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  “Do I look dead?” Elizabeth slapped her on the cheek. “Did you feel that?”

  Leah pulled away. Elizabeth slapped her on the other cheek. “Did you feel that?” Leah nodded. “Can a dead person do that?” Leah didn’t answer.

  “Let us just say I took a momentary rest from this hellhole.”

  They stayed silent for a few moments. “You spoke of Yochanan,” Leah said.

  “Yes. I spoke to him. He told me that you were in danger and I needed to help you.”

  “How did you speak to him?”

  Elizabeth leaned back against the wall and turned sideways to face Leah. “I spoke to him when I was not here anymore. Or I think I did. I do not know. I am not sure of anything right now. Since I have been back, I think I am seeing and hearing people. People from the past. People who are not with us anymore. I can feel their worries and experience their loves.”

  “You see him?” Leah asked.

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “Can you see him now?”

  “Not right now. But I saw him after the Romans took us.”

  “What did he say?”

  Elizabeth hesitated and pulled on the chains again. “These clamps just will not budge. We have to get these off of us.”

  Leah edged closer to her. “Tell me. What did Yochanan say?”

  She took a deep breath and looked away. “He said he loved you.”

  “Look at me,” Leah said.

  Elizabeth turned to face her.

  “I know he loved me. Did he say anything about what will happen before the next sunset?”

  “Only God knows.”

  “Then how did he know I was in trouble?”

  “God shared it with him. He shared it with me. Every thought, every feeling, every emotion goes through God.”

  “What does God look like?”

  Elizabeth paused and looked away for a brief moment. She turned back to face Leah. “There’s no face on God. It’s a feeling. A feeling of joy and peace. A feeling when someone is kind to you. A feeling when someone tells you they love you. It sweeps over you like an ocean wave and fills you in a way I do not know how to describe.”

  Leah touched her hand and took a deep breath. “What about Michael? Does your father know you left to see me?”

  “He knows or I hope he knows.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I did not tell him when I left.”

  Leah tried to stand. “Why?”

  “He did not want me going back to you.”

  “You should have obeyed him.”

  Elizabeth gave her a look. “Did you think I could stay in that grungy cave with him while your life was in danger? I could not walk away knowing you were in trouble.”

  “Your father will be worried.”

  “He is used to it. He should have been here by now. I am tired of this awful place. I was happy, you know. I was happy. I saw my mom.”

  She stopped talking and glared as a guard walked by. “Hey, moron,” she said.

  The guard turned toward her and gave a puzzled look. “What?”

  “Moron. Do you know what it means?”

  “No.”

  “Let me tell you then. It means someone like you is given this job because you do not have the ability to think like your commanders. So they give men like you this job because all you can do is beat up defenseless women and children. That’s you – a moron. I bet you are the biggest moron in this prison.”

  The guard opened the door and smacked Elizabeth. Her head bounced into the wall. She laughed and spit at the guard. Some of her blood splattered his face. “Wow, moron, you are so tough. Picking on a woman whose hands are chained to a wall.”

  “Elizabeth, stop,” Leah pleaded.

  “Go ahead, moron. Hit me again.” She spit again at him.

  The guard raised his spear.

  “Stop,” shouted a man behind him. “Titus, what are you doing?”

  “This woman was being disrespectful, sir.”

  “Now is not the time to administer punishment. She will have her time to answer for the crimes committed against the Roman Empire.”

  Titus turned and walked away.

  “Moron,” Elizabeth shouted.

  A commotion distracted Titus and the other soldier. A group of soldiers bellowed and raised their weapons. They ran in different directions. “I wonder what is going on.” Elizabeth said, getting to her feet.

  Leah pulled on her arm and shook her head. “Sit, we cannot do anything now.”

  Elizabeth could see a group of Romans surrounding a man. His brown hair was streaked with gray, and through his torn clothing, she could see bruises covering his legs and arms. The soldiers opened the cell next to them and placed him in there. One soldier stood guard as the man got to his knees and closed his eyes. He started whispering.

  After a few moments, the man groaned, obviously in pain, and sat back against the wall, keeping his eyes closed. Elizabeth struggled and settled down on the other side, near the man’s cell. “Sir, are you all right?”

  The man shook his head and reached through the bars to touch her hand. He gestured to the ceiling and put his hands together. “My time is short here. Please pray for me.”

  Chapter 18

  Michael gazed at the Antonia Fortress, its tall and magnificent structure casting shadows of doom all around it. He rubbed his eyes and let them circle the vicinity. How am I going to get her out of this forsaken place? I can’t walk in just to see if she’s even there. I need to formulate a plan, but how? There have to be several hundred guards, all with armor and weapons. He cringed, as the adrenaline faded from his body and the reality of the situation became all too clear – it made him feel ill. I can’t do this alone. I need help. I’m not going to have much time to do this. I wish I had more money. I guess what I have had better be good enough. If not, I’ll have to find a weapon and take my chances.

  Michael took out some silver and showed it to the two men standing several yards within the shadows of the Antonia Fortress. “I need help to get inside. Do you know a way past the guards?”

  The men took several steps away from him and had a quick conference. They returned a few moments later.

  “Why do you need to do this?”

  “My daughter. She may be in there.”

  The tall man shook his head. “Your daughter will not live for long.”

  Michael glared. “My daughter is not going to die in there.” He clenched his fists and moved closer.

  “Do not lose your temper,” the tall man said. “They will give you the sword.”

  “Please help me. I can get more silver.”

  The tall man turned to his friend. “Shalim, what to do?”

  “Heber, it is too dangerous.”

  “His daughter, Shalim. It is not a place for a woman. No woman should be held here.”

  They again took a few steps away from Michael and whispered to each other.

  “I do not have much time,” Michael said, glancing back at the prison. “I need help now.”

  “We can help but we cannot join you. It is dangerous for us to even help you at all being who we are.”

  “Fine,” Michael said, holding out the silver.

  “We do not require silver to help a father find his daughter,” Shalim said. “Come with us, brother.”

  Michael suddenly stopped. “Aharon is gone,” he mumbled, taking several paces in each direction looking for him. He squinted. Where did he go? I have a plan now. A good one, and I think it might actually work, but I need him.

  “Why are you waiting?” asked Heber. “Come with us.”

  Michael followed as they led him past several stands of food and approached the big temple. They washed themselves and went through a back entrance. The men led the way down a flight of stairs and into a long corridor.

  “You will now need the silver,” said Heber, pointi
ng to a lone guard standing by a gold-plated door.

  Michael showed them five coins. “Is this enough?”

  The men nodded.

  “Wish me luck.”

  “What is that?” Heber asked.

  “Wish me good fortune.”

  “We shall. We will wait here to be sure you are safe,” Shalim said. “Show the guard your silver. Hold it out in your hand and let him see it.”

  Michael walked toward the guard, making sure the soldier could see the silver from a distance.

  “Halt,” the guard shouted. He raised his spear chest high. “Do not take another step.” The guard jabbed his spear forward three times as he approached. “What is your business here?”

  “My business is this,” Michael said, extending his hand full of silver.

  “This interests me. Why do you need to take this path?”

  “To see if my daughter is in the prison.”

  “Why is she being held?”

  Michael shook his head. “She was mistaken for another woman. We were just passing through town and got lost. She was arrested by the Romans but was with me at the time the incident took place. I need to get her home. She hit her head and is sick.”

  The guard took the silver. “Do you know your way around the prison?”

  “I do not.”

  The guard opened a small door and pointed inside. “Put the armor and helmet on and act like a Roman soldier.”

  “I shall,” said Michael, as he reached down and put the armor over his chest and helmet on his head.

  “Be careful,” the guard said. “Do what the commanders say you must do, or you risk your life and the life of your daughter.”

  The guard opened the gold-plated door and Michael stepped inside. As the door closed behind him, he saw a tall stairwell. Act like a soldier. Don’t flinch or hesitate. Be decisive. Kill if necessary. He took his helmet off for a brief moment to wipe some perspiration as he reached the top step. He composed himself to stop his heart from racing. Now where?

  Several voices echoed down the chamber as he saw a line of cells. He walked past the first. A bearded, dirty man reached through the bars and grabbed his neck. “You dirty, filthy Roman,” he hissed. “Where did you take my wife? Tell me or I will kill you.”

  Michael jabbed the man with the back of his spear. “I do not know. Let me try to find out.”

  The man fell to the back of the wall and spit at him. “I will track you down.”

  A young man lay in the second cell. He had bruises on his back and a gash on the side of his face. “Are you okay?” Michael asked.

  The young man didn’t move or answer. He was leaning sideways against the wall. Michael reached in and poked him with the back of his spear. “Sir, sir, are you hurt?” He pushed the man again with his weapon, surprised when he tipped over. His arms and legs were motionless. Oh, Lord, he’s dead. Take a deep breath. Stay focused. Find Elizabeth and Leah.

  He turned a corner and a group of Romans were chatting. “Well, what do we have here, someone from Pilate’s renegade?”

  Michael tried to walk past them, but two soldiers blocked his path. “Are you a spy from Pilate? Checking up on us? The last one to be loyal to Pilate never made it back. Speak.”

  “I am not Pilate’s soldier. I am here to make sure these rebels face their deaths for their crimes against the Roman Empire.”

  “Let him go,” called out a man decked in brightly colored garbs.

  “Yes sir,” the soldiers shouted.

  “I need a few of you to help me move the prisoner. You,” he pointed to Michael. “And you.”

  “Yes sir,” Michael said.

  “Come with me, both of you. We have an important mission for you.”

  The commander led them down a darkened hallway. Candles were melted down to their holdings. The resistance from the prisoners in the cells was silent. They lay beaten, listless. “This is an important prisoner for us. He must be protected until his trial. Many in the city are calling for his death. We had to hide him down here. His name is Paul. He is one of the followers of the rabbi.”

  “The rabbi? Which one?” Michael asked.

  “The one hung on the cross.”

  Michael stood before the cell. Paul sat against the wall, his eyes closed and hands folded. The commander unlocked the gate and picked him up. “Here, take him,” the Roman said. “Bring him to the top of the fortress for his trial.”

  Michael grabbed an arm, looked sideways and saw Elizabeth and Leah. There they are!

  Chapter 19

  Modern-day Long Island

  The moonlight made an uninvited entrance into Hewitt’s bedroom. He shielded his eyes with two pillows. He sat and let the reality of the situation hit him first in the stomach and then in his head. He tried Veronica’s cell number three more times, but the calls went to her answering machine. Finding her old goodbye note, he crumbled it up without reading it and tossed it into the wastepaper basket.

  He staggered to his feet and let his shirt hang out as he went into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he grabbed his toothbrush, held it up and dropped it into the sink. He smashed the neatly pushed up toothpaste tube with his hand, squirting its contents all over the sink and then tossed a bottle of hand soap against the wall.

  The level of anger rose inch by inch in his body. He shook his head as he continued to build his case mentally against Pastor Dennis. With each thought, his anger was redirected. Enough of this nonsense about people taking trips to Jerusalem. They’re all a bunch of wackos. No time for a shower.

  He made a quick call to his office. “Is that his name? Robert Cantone. Yes. Thanks. I’ll be waiting.”

  Hewitt tied his shoes and went downstairs. Sitting in front of his computer, he battered the keyboard in a furious fashion. “Whoa,” he said, sitting back. Which one to choose? He clicked on the first few links but came up with nothing. How about this one? “Well, there’s Robert Cantone’s picture. No wonder he’s in the hospital.” Hewitt read the local newspaper article entitled “Woman Dies After Giving Birth.”

  “What?” he said as he stood up and stared at the screen. He printed a copy of the article and paced around the kitchen, confused thoughts swirling in his mind. Why is the pastor visiting someone who killed his best friend’s wife? This is an odd way of showing loyalty to a friend. Yeah, he’s a pastor. I know. I know. But, this goes beyond being a pastor. Especially if they were close friends. Something is not adding up here.

  Hewitt made another call to the office. “I have the info on Mr. Cantone. Let’s do some more background work on the pastor. You have his four-one-one. I have some visits I need to make in Northport. Some questions need to be asked. Call me on my cell. Thanks.”

  Finally getting somewhere. Looks like it’s going through the pastor after all. Hewitt looked at his cell phone and frowned. “Come on honey, at least return my calls.”

  Chapter 20

  First-century Jerusalem

  Elizabeth grabbed her head and groaned. She shook the chains back and forth. “Oh God, not again,” she said between short breaths.

  “What is wrong?” asked Leah.

  “My head. It feels like it is exploding again.” She wiped away the sweat running down her face.

  “You look ill,” Leah said. “Your face. I can see through it. Oh my. Am I going crazy? My eyes are deceiving me. My mind is failing me.”

  Elizabeth gazed at her. She got to her feet, waved her hands sideways and tried to walk. “Who are you?”

  Leah shook her head. “Sit down. You are not well.”

  “I do not understand. Who are you?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Can you not see?” asked Leah.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No. Who are you? Who do you know?”

  Leah stood and reached for Elizabeth. “Sit. Rest. I will call a guard. Do you need water?”
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  “Beth?” Elizabeth asked.

  “What?” Leah moved closer to her.

  “Bethia?”

  Leah stepped back and fell to the ground.

  “Bethia. What do you want?”

  “Who are you talking to, Elizabeth?”

  She didn’t answer. “I understand, Bethia.”

  Leah watched Elizabeth gather her breath. “You said, Bethia,” she said.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said. She coughed several times, gasping for air.

  “Bethia was my daughter.”

  Elizabeth calmed down, taking short breaths and nodded.

  “My Bethia was just a baby when she died. How could she talk to you?”

  “Her soul spoke,” Elizabeth said.

  “What did she say? What did she look like? Does she look like me? Like Yochanan?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “It is not like that.” She touched Leah’s hand. “I can feel the emotions.”

  “What did you feel?” Leah asked, leaning over her.

  “Joy. Bethia said joy will come to you.”

  Chapter 21

  A rock struck Michael in the head, ricocheting off his metal helmet. Stunned, he fell to his knees.

  “Fight the Romans,” yelled a man in the crowd. “Free the man of peace.”

  The commander pointed to the rebel. “You will pay the price for striking a Roman soldier. Take him away.”

  Michael watched several Romans surround and beat the man. His blood left a trail as they dragged him down the stairs.

  “Bring the preacher here,” said the commander to Michael.

  He got up and helped guide Paul out to the courtyard at the top of the Antonia Fortress. The crowd screamed and shouted opposing messages at him. “Death to the preacher,” some in the crowd yelled.

  “Save him,” shouted others.

  More rocks came hurtling toward them. Michael stood and faced Paul, taking a couple of rocks in his back. His armor shook from each strike. The mob became unruly, and more Roman soldiers pushed them farther away from the podium.