Free Rabbi Gabrielle Ignites a Tempest by Roger Herst Page B

before sending it to market. For all we know,
your SUV is now in Jordan, Syria, or Iraq. And that's exactly where
we want it to be."
    "I don't believe this," Tim said. "I just
don't believe you'd do a thing like that."
    "Your insurance company will pay. You do
carry theft insurance, don't you?"
    While fighting to control his anger. Tim
refused to give Benoit the satisfaction of an answer. Silently, he
lifted the fragment from the table, noting Benoit's eyes trained on
him. The latch on the green cooler stuck. Tim jiggled it free to
expose numerous other vacuum-sealed bags. He carefully replaced the
fragment to the exact location where it had been before.
    Father Benoit returned to the conversation,
sounding conciliatory, "Let's bury our disagreements until we have
everything in the computer. We can quarrel about the ownership
later. I'll be back in a few days. Timothy, just finish the
marvelous job you're doing here."
    Tim waited until he heard Benoit's retreating
footsteps on the stone passageway, then immediately removed the
last fragment from the cooler and, with masking tape, attached the
transparent envelope to the small of his back. As soon as he was
satisfied this treasure was snug against his skin, he slipped back
into the scrub suit top. Now, if the priest returned to steal this
treasure after nightfall, he'd be in for a big surprise.
    Father Benoit buttonholed the first monk he could
find to show him a note he had written, saying that he wanted to
see Abbot Nicholas Afanasieff. During his previous retreats in the
monastery, Benoit had delivered silent presentations on biblical
themes by showing his illustrative slides and writing commentary on
a chalkboard. However challenging this method of communication, the
brothers seemed to enjoy it. Once in Afanasieff's office, Benoit
did not expect the abbot to respond. As head of the monastery, he
preserved the right to speak when he deemed it appropriate, but to
fulfill Benoit's request, no verbal response was necessary. A nod
of understanding was sufficient.
    "The Presbyterian minister is doing work for
my École," Benoit wrote on a tablet in French. "But for reasons you
can probably imagine, he must not leave the monastery. Please
instruct your brothers not to lower him over the wall on the
lift."
    The abbot's lips fell open as he contemplated
a request that was inconsistent with St. George's reputation for
hospitality. At the same time, he didn't wish trouble with the
Roman Church and its influential friends in Istanbul. On his own
notepad, Father Nicholas Afanasieff wrote, "For how long?"
    "A few short days," came the answer.
    Abbot Nicholas granted his consent.
    "I'm going to remain here with him," Benoit
scribbled. "We must conclude our business together."
    Only after Benoit had withdrawn did Nicholas
consider a more perplexing question: what would his brethren do if
Dr. Matternly used force to leave? While his monks kept themselves
in reasonable physical condition, they were men of peace,
unaccustomed to violence. To see that such a situation did not
occur, he ordered his brethren to place a padlock on the lift. In
addition, he instructed them to remove the chrome crank handles
from the pulleys. Now, not only was impossible for Dr. Matternly to
leave, but anyone else—including Father Benoit.
    ***
    Outside an impoundment yard for stolen
vehicles, two kilometers northeast of the Allenby Bridge linking
the Occupied Territory of the West Bank with the Kingdom of Jordan,
Major Zvi Zabronski eased behind the wheel of his forest-green
armored police cruiser and reached for a briefcase containing
enlarged photos provided by Colonel Bar Jehoshua. He shuffled
through four pictures quickly before stopping to study a fifth.
Flanking a dried desert wadi, a thin stand of gum trees provided
cover for a vehicle swathed with netting, the kind used by the
military to camouflage tanks and planes from aerial surveillance.
In the picture, it was impossible to discern the precise make