Juan Gómez-Jurado - Contract with God aka The Moses Expedition

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"A true masterpiece. A brilliant thriller – sharp, suspenseful, and engrossing." – Brad Thor
A lost treasure, a Nazi war criminal, and a lifelong quest to find a missing heirloom are the starting points for this new novel from the author of God's Spy. Father Anthony Fowler, CIA operative and member of the Vatican's secret service, the Holy Alliance, pays a visit to a war criminal living under a pseudonym because of the terrible experiments he performed on Jewish children. Fowler offers him a deal – he will not reveal the man's true identity in exchange for a huge candle covered in fine filigree gold. But it isn't the gold Fowler is after – it is the metallic object preserved within the wax, a missing fragment of an ancient map. Soon Fowler is involved in an expedition to Jordan set up by the enigmatic head of Kayn industries, a reclusive billionaire who has links to the highest levels of the Catholic Church. But there is a traitor in the group who has links to terrorist organisations back in the US, and who is patiently awaiting the moment to strike. From wartime Vienna to terrorist cells in New York and a lost valley in Jordan, Contract with God is a thrilling read about a quest for power and the secrets of an ancient world.

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The twins carefully laid the body on the ground, then slid the stretcher from under it and went back to the tunnel.

An hour later, the bodies of the three archaeologists and the operator were lying near the edge of the platform. The last one out was Levine. It had taken twenty minutes longer to get him out of the tunnel. Although he was the only one who had survived the initial fall, Dr Harel could do nothing for him.

‘He suffered too much internal damage,’ she whispered to Andrea once she’d emerged. The doctor’s face and arms were covered with dirt. ‘I would have preferred…’

‘Don’t say any more,’ Andrea said, squeezing her hand furtively. She let go of it to cover her head with her cap, as did the rest of the group. The only ones who didn’t follow the Jewish custom were the soldiers, perhaps out of ignorance.

The silence was absolute. A warm breeze drifted over from the cliffs. Suddenly the silence was broken by a voice that sounded deeply perturbed. Andrea turned her head and couldn’t believe her eyes.

The voice belonged to Russell. He was walking behind Raymond Kayn, and they were no more than a hundred feet from the platform.

The billionaire was advancing towards them barefoot, his shoulders stooped and his arms crossed. His assistant followed, his face like thunder. He quietened down when he realised that the others could hear him. It was obvious that seeing Kayn there, outside his tent, made Russell extremely nervous.

Slowly everybody turned to watch the two figures approaching. Aside from Andrea and Dekker, Forrester was the only other spectator to have seen Raymond Kayn in person. And that had happened only once, during a long tense meeting at Kayn Tower, when Forrester had agreed to the strange demands of his new boss without thinking twice. Of course, the reward for accepting had been huge.

As was the cost. It was lying there on the ground, covered by blankets.

Kayn stopped a dozen feet from them, a shaking, hesitant old man, his head bearing a yarmulke as white as the rest of his clothing. Out in the open his thinness and slight stature made him look even frailer, but, despite this, Andrea found herself fighting the urge to kneel. She perceived how the attitude of the people around him changed, as though they were affected by some invisible magnetic field. Brian Hanley, who was less than three feet from her, began to shift his weight from one foot to the other. David Pappas bowed his head, and even Fowler’s eyes seemed oddly bright. The priest stood off to one side of the group, slightly apart from the others.

‘My dear friends, I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. My name is Raymond Kayn,’ the old man said, his clear voice belying his fragile appearance.

Some of those present nodded, but the old man didn’t notice and continued speaking.

‘I regret that we had to meet for the first time under such terrible circumstances, and I’d like to ask that we join in prayer.’ He lowered his eyes, bowed his head, and recited, ‘ El maley rachamim shochen bam’romim hamtzey menuchah nechonah al kanfey haschechinah bema’alot kedoshim ute’horim kezohar harakia me’irim umazhirim lenishmat. [8] Amen.’

Everyone repeated the Amen.

Strangely, Andrea felt better, even though she did not understand what she had heard, nor was it part of her childhood faith. An empty, lonely silence hung over the group for a few moments until Dr Harel spoke up.

‘Should we return home, sir?’ She extended her arms in a gesture of silent supplication.

‘We shall now comply with the halak á [9]and bury our brothers,’ Kayn replied. His tone was calm and reasonable, in contrast to Doc’s hoarse exhaustion. ‘Afterwards, we’ll rest for a few hours and then continue our work. We cannot allow the sacrifice of these heroes to be in vain.’

Having said this, Kayn returned to his tent, followed by Russell.

Andrea looked around and saw nothing but agreement on the faces of the others.

‘I can’t believe these people are buying this shit,’ she whispered to Harel. ‘He didn’t even come near us. He stood several yards away, as if we were suffering from the plague or were going to do something to him.’

‘We aren’t the ones he was afraid of.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

Harel didn’t answer.

But the direction of her gaze did not escape Andrea, nor the look of complicity that passed between the doctor and Fowler. The priest nodded.

If it wasn’t us, then who was it?

64

Document Recovered from the e-mail Account of Kharouf Waadi, used as a Letter Box for Communications Between Terrorists Belonging to the Syrian Cell

Brothers, the chosen moment has arrived. Huqan has asked that you prepare yourselves for tomorrow. A local source will provide you with the necessary equipment. Your trip will take you by car from Syria to Amman, where Ahmed will give you more instructions. K.

Salaam Aleikum . I only wanted to remind you before departure of the words of Al Tabrizi, which have always served as an inspiration to me. I hope that you will draw similar comfort in them prior to setting out on your mission. W

‘God’s messenger said: a martyr has six privileges before God. He pardons your sins on shedding the first drop of your blood; He delivers you to a place in paradise, redeeming you from the torments of the grave; He offers you salvation from the terror of hell and sets upon your head a crown of glory, each ruby of which is worth more than the entire world and all that exists within it; He will wed you to seventy-two houris with the blackest eyes; and He will accept your intercession on behalf of seventy-two of your kin.’

Thank you, W. Today my wife blessed me and bid me goodbye with a smile on her lips. She said to me: ‘From the day I met you I knew that you were made for martyrdom. Today is the happiest day of my life.’ Blessed be Allah for having bequeathed me someone like her. D

Blessings upon you, D. O

Isn’t your soul filled to bursting? Would that we could share it with someone, shout it to the four winds. D

I too would like to share it, but I do not feel your euphoria. I find myself strangely at peace. This is my final message, since I leave in a few hours with my two brothers for our appointment in Amman. W

I share W’s sense of peace. Euphoria is understandable but dangerous. In a moral sense, because it is the daughter of pride. In a tactical sense, because it can cause you to commit mistakes. You should purify your thoughts, D. When you find yourself in the desert you’ll have to wait many hours in the hot sun for Huqan’s signal. Your euphoria could quickly turn to desperation. Search for the things that will fill you with serenity. O

What would you recommend? D

Think of the martyrs who have gone before us. Our struggle, the struggle of the umma , is composed of small steps. The brothers who slaughtered the infidels in Madrid achieved one small step. The brothers who destroyed the Twin Towers achieved ten such steps. Our mission signifies a thousand steps. It aims to bring the invaders to their knees forever. Do you realise? Your life, your blood, will bring about an end that no other brother can even aspire to. Imagine an ancient king who has led a virtuous life multiplying his seed in an enormous harem, defeating his enemies, expanding his kingdom in the name of God. He can look around himself with the satisfaction of someone who has fulfilled his duty. That is how you should feel. Take refuge in that thought and transmit it to the warriors you will take with you to Jordan. P

I’ve meditated for many hours on what you told me, O, and I am thankful. My spirit is different, my state of mind closer to God. The only thing that still causes me distress is that these will be our last messages to each other, and that, although we will triumph, our next meeting will be in another life. I’ve learned so much from you and have passed on that knowledge to the others.

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