John Lyman - The Secret Chapel

Lev soon spotted Leo and John by the pool and grinned while raising his glass of wine in a gesture of welcome. Leo and John responded by lifting their bottles of water in a return salute, their mouths too full to grin. Squinting in the late afternoon sun, Leo continued to study the group around Lev. Could this be the Bible Code Team Morelli had talked about? His question was about to be answered, because the men, led by Lev, were now walking in their direction.

Several hundred yards away, behind a sand dune to the north, two men with binoculars and cameras packed up their equipment. They walked back to their car parked along the road and sat inside, staring at the villa. The men exchanged glances before looking around to make sure no one was watching as the driver started the engine and pulled out onto the roadway. Slowly, they drove past the villa as the passenger reached for his cell phone and punched in a preprogrammed number.

Leo and John sat happily munching away by the pool while Lev and the three fit-looking men approached them. Two of the men appeared to be in their late twenties or early thirties, while the third appeared to be at least in his fifties. Setting their plates aside, Leo and John stood to meet the group.

“Are you feeling rested, my friends?” Lev asked. “Is the food to your liking?”

“The food is excellent, Lev. I’ve never seen such a spectacular feast put together in a private home. I feel like a guest at an exclusive resort. We can’t thank you enough for your generous hospitality.”

“How about you, John? Did you get enough to eat?”

Red as a lobster from too much sun, John stood next to Leo holding a skewer of meat in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “This is probably one of the best meals I’ve ever had. My folks back on our ranch in New Mexico used to put on some real parties with lots of Mexican food and barbecue, but nothing like this.”

“Well, this is a special occasion,” Lev said, winking at the men around him. Let’s go inside, and I’ll start the introductions.” Lev studied John’s deepening red color. “You two need to get out of the sun.”

The group filed into the villa and entered a cavernous room with a red-tiled floor and a man-sized iron chandelier hanging from the center of a thirty-foot high ceiling. The walls were painted the color of desert sand and lined with artwork, while Persian carpets and white fabric sofas took up the center of the room, giving the space a modern Mid-Eastern flavor. Floor-to-ceiling windows at one end opened up the space to a panoramic view of the sea, while on opposite sides of the room, two wide hallways led away from the great room into separate parts of the villa.

As the men gathered around on sofas, the holiday mood took on a distinctly more business-like tone when Lev stood and faced Leo and John for a moment before speaking. “I want to start off by saying that everyone here is very grateful that you two made it to Israel safely. Those of us involved with the Bible code have been extremely impressed with both of you, especially your involvement in the discovery of the ancient chapel and your ability to shake off your pursuers and make it to Israel without being stopped. I’m sure we’ll all get to know one another much better in the days ahead, but before we get to the matter of why we’ve all been called together at this exact time and place, I want to introduce you to the team Father Morelli was working with for the past year.”

The stoic-looking men sitting across from Leo and John smiled in their direction. “Shalom,” they all said in unison.

“Don’t let their casual looks give you a false impression,” Lev said. “Most are experts in their chosen fields, and all of them have devoted the past year of their lives to the study of the code in the Bible.”

The man seated next to Lev stood and seized Leo’s hand in a vice-like grip. Leo returned the squeeze, causing the man to smile. “I heard you were once a boxer, Father. You still have a good grip.”

“This is Moshe Ze?ev,” Lev said. “Our chief of security.”

“Pleased to meet you, Moshe.” Leo watched as John winced in the clutches of the man’s iron handshake. At fifty-five years of age, Moshe was the oldest and most colorful member of the three. He was wearing a bright blue fly-fishing shirt, lime-green shorts, and flip-flops. The long, thin muscles of a runner made it obvious that he still kept himself in shape, and his tanned head was completely shaved. His only facial hair was a thick handlebar moustache that he twirled at the ends. Leo knew Moshe’s name was, of course, synonymous with the man who delivered the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt-Moses.

“Moshe was a general in the Israeli Defense Force before joining the Mosad, our version of the CIA,” Lev continued. “Let’s just say he knows more than your average citizen about what goes on in this country and other parts of the world.”

A large man dressed in khaki pants with a tight-fitting brown T-shirt stood up. He was six feet five inches tall and looked like a linebacker in the NFL. At the age of thirty-five, he had black hair worn short on top and shaved on the sides and was the only one of the group who did not have any facial hair.

“This is Alon Lavi,” Lev said. “Alon was a captain in the Israeli Special Forces and is Moshe’s second in command here at the villa.”

“I’m happy to meet you, Father. And you too, John.”

Leo reached out to shake his hand. “Alon is a Hebrew name, isn’t it?”

“It means oak tree,” Lev said, cutting in. “Very fitting, don’t you think?”

Alon blushed slightly as the Israeli men began to laugh. John stood to shake hands with the big man while making a mental note to be standing close to this guy if a fight ever broke out.

The third man extended his hand toward Leo and John. In his late twenties, with short, dark hair, horn-rimmed glasses, and a beard, he had a decidedly more intellectual look about him than the others. He was dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt that was one size too large and wearing the ever-present khaki shorts that seemed so popular among the staff at the villa.

“Hi. I’m Daniel … Daniel Meir.”

“The Book of Daniel calls you the interpreter of dreams,” Leo said,

Lev seemed impressed. “Very good, Father.” The Israeli men nodded their approval and obvious respect for Leo.

“It also means one who is pious and wise in the Book of Ezekiel,” John added, also earning a few nods of respect from the others.

Quiet by nature, Daniel was embarrassed by the attention. “Well, since you’ve given me the challenge of having to live up to my name, I hope I don’t disappoint you. Of course, one can’t help but remember that Daniel was also thrown into the lion’s den. I have a feeling history is repeating itself.” The room erupted in laughter at the obvious reference to all those present whose names meant lion.

Lev put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder and smiled. “Daniel was a cryptographer or ‘code breaker’ in the ministry of defense and, like me, has a PhD in mathematics.”

John was just sitting back down when he noticed the girl he had seen earlier on the beach enter the room from one of the side hallways. She walked right up to Lev and kissed him lightly on the cheek. John suddenly felt self-conscious and began brushing his hair back from his forehead with his fingers.

“Let me introduce you to the final member of the team, running late as usual,” Lev said, smiling at the girl. “This is my daughter, Ariella.”

Leo took her small but strong hand in his. “It seems we have yet another lion. Ariella is Hebrew for lioness of God. Daniel truly is in the lion’s den.”