John Lyman - The Secret Chapel

“We were just discussing leaving for the desert as soon as possible,” Leo said. “We have the coordinates provided by the Bible code now, and I think today would be a good time to head out there.”

“You’re probably right. I was going to talk to you about how you wanted to proceed. Might as well just jump in and go for it. If you don’t mind, I’d like some of my people to go with you. This is still a dangerous country, and running around out in the desert without backup is a recipe for disaster.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Leo said. The realization that he had no idea about how to proceed was slowly dawning on him. “What do you have in mind?”

“We talked among ourselves last night after you went to bed. What we’re actually doing here is attempting to mount a major archaeological project in a matter of days. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Whatever is out there in the desert won’t reveal itself easily. I’m sending Alon and Ariella with you, along with some staff members from the villa as support personnel. That should get you started while I finish getting the rest of the expedition together here and join up with you in a few days.”

Leo finished his juice and set his glass down on the bar. “That’s more than generous, Lev. Father Morelli knew what he was doing when he sent us to you. Is there anything John and I can do to get things rolling?”

“You can grab some of those pastries over there. The vehicles are already out front waiting for you.”

John threw a look of surprise in Lev’s direction. “Wow, you don’t waste any time, Professor.”

Leo climbed off the bar stool and smiled at Lev. “Why do you always seem to be one step ahead of us?”

“My motives are not entirely selfless, Father. I’m just as interested as you are to see what’s out there. It’s going to take all of us working together to see this through. Go get ready, and I’ll meet you out front.”

After dressing and grabbing their backpacks, Leo and John stepped through the large front doors of the villa to the sight of several sand-colored vehicles of various shapes and sizes. A new Land Rover was at the head of the convoy, followed by two large four-wheel-drive military-looking trucks and a large out-of-place-looking vehicle that resembled a motor home. Lev was busy consulting with Alon and Ariella next to the strange looking vehicle, while staff members from the villa loaded boxes of equipment into the trucks.

Leo walked over to the motor home and admired the polished silver exterior before peering up the stairwell inside. The diesel engine was idling, and he could feel the cool air created by the air-conditioning blowing from within. The interior of the front section of the vehicle was sheathed in stainless steel and resembled a commercial kitchen, while the entire rear portion held refrigerated walk-ins for perishable foods and living accommodations for the chefs.

“What in the world is this, Lev?”

“I bought it from a rich Texas oil man. It’s a combination mobile kitchen and living quarters. His company was doing some exploration out in the desert, and he sold it to me after they were through. Those oil men like their comforts out in the field. You can prepare enough food for an army with this thing.”

“Wow!”

Leo turned to see John standing behind him staring at the motor home. “You really love that word.”

John laughed. “Well, it gets my point across.”

Lev walked over to one of the trucks and looked inside. After conferring with one of his staff, he returned to join Leo and John. “Everything is loaded in the trucks. You have everything you’ll need until the rest of the expedition arrives. Better get going so you can set up camp before dark.”

Alon was sitting in the driver’s seat of the Land Rover and watched as Leo approached and climbed into the passenger seat beside him. Ariella and John glanced at each other shyly before climbing into the backseat next to each other. Behind them, the engines of the trucks roared to life, and the convoy began to slowly pull away from the villa under a cloudless sky onto the palm-lined highway.

Ariella seemed distracted as she watched the scenery passing by outside her window. “Have you ever been to Jerusalem?”

John felt his heart skip a beat. “Uh, no, I haven’t.”

She turned and stared at him with her large brown eyes. “It would be a shame to come to Israel and not see Jerusalem. When we get back from the desert, we’ll make some time, and I’ll show you around the city, especially the old parts.”

John couldn’t believe his ears. Was he dreaming? She wanted to show him the city. “Yeah, I mean, great. I’d love to spend some time there.” Especially with you.

Ariella gave him a coy smile and glanced back out the window while they drove on in awkward silence. The highway departed the sandy coastal grassland, and soon they began to see fields of crops on the fertile Mediterranean plain. Alon’s eyes studied every car that passed as the others looked silently out their windows and thought about what they might find in the desert.

The vehicles turned east onto the new six-lane Highway 1 and headed for Jerusalem, drawing curious stares from people in other vehicles. In the subtropical climate, fruit and vegetables grew in abundance, including citrus, avocados, kiwis, guavas, bananas, and mangos. All this bounty came from the region they were passing through. They saw fields of wheat, sorghum, corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers, along with acres of flowers and vineyards lined with rows of grapevines stretching for miles.

“I never imagined it was so beautiful in Israel,” John said, watching the parade of color pass by their windows. “Have there always been farms like this here?”

Ariella waved her hand in the direction of the fields. “They’ve been doing this since 1909. This country is dotted with two kinds of unique cooperative agricultural settlements. One is called a kibbutz . It’s a collective community similar to the one surrounding our villa, where the equipment and housing are communally owned and each member’s labor benefits the whole group. The other, called a moshav , is a farming community or village, where each family maintains its own individual land and any buying and selling are done cooperatively. Both communities are based on social equality and mutual assistance. There is also a security benefit to these communities from the terror groups outside their borders.”

John turned his attention from the scenery back to Ariella. “I didn’t realize the villa was a kibbutz.”

“It’s not one in the traditional sense. My father owns the villa and the houses and land surrounding it. He lets people, mostly students, live there free of charge in exchange for providing security, growing the community’s food, and taking care of the villa. Because we raise almost everything we eat, the food is free. We also own several vehicles that are available for everyone in the community. They use them mostly for going to school or shopping or just a night out on the town. Some of my father’s students are now professors and still choose to live there. We’re like a big family that watches out for one another.”

“Sounds pretty idyllic to me,” John said.

Ariella tossed her long brown hair back over her shoulders. “It is to me. I never want to leave.”

“I’ve lived there for the past five years and feel the same way,” Alon said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Lev’s promised me a house of my own when I get married.”

Ariella giggled. “And when will that be?”

They could see the back of Alon’s neck turning red. “As soon as Nava decides she’s had enough of flying.”

“Who’s Nava?” John asked.