"That's a good example of what I mean. Look at what you've just done. You have racially profiled terrorists. I think that you're phobic against Arabs and Russians!"

  "Whoa! Just a minute, Archer. Because I have strong opinions and convictions that differ from what you believe, that makes me phobic? Is that the game? When I have a different viewpoint, you begin to call me names?"

  By now both Murphy and Fallworth were standing.

  "You're fanatically phobic on certain issues!" Fallworth exclaimed.

  Murphy quashed his desire to suggest that they go outside to settle the issue. Get control, Murphy. Don't escalate it 114 any more. A soft answer turns away wrath. He took a deep breath.

  "I used Arab and Russian terrorists as an illustration. It was not a put-down of particular groups of people. Those examples are current on television and in the newspapers. You don't read about Eskimo or Polynesian terrorists, do you? I think that tolerance and political correctness have become twisted. Disagreement with someone's beliefs and behaviors is not intolerance, it is discernment and conviction. If we didn't have that, we would have everyone thinking the same way."

  "That would be nice for a change rather than your bigoted opinions."

  "And who determines which way to think or believe, Archer? Is it you? If anyone disagrees with you, do we then call out the thought police and put them in jail? If we are to hold everyone's beliefs and behaviors on the same level and become tolerant and accepting of them, why don't you hold my opinions on the same level as yours? Why aren't you tolerant of them? Why must I give up what I believe and only approve what you believe in? Don't you see a double standard here? Isn't Preston University a place where ideas are shared and free speech is allowed?"

  "Of course free speech is allowed, but not hate speech. Not fanaticism."

  "I think you've lost it, Archer. Having convictions, values, and moral standards does not equal fanaticism."

  "That's the point. You think you have a corner on truth. You're not sensitive to other people's feelings, nor are you being inclusive of their beliefs."

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  Murphy could see that they were just going in a circle so he reverted to his usual tactic when frustrated and under verbal attack. He asked a question. "So, what's the bottom line, Archer? What do you want from me?"

  "I want your hate speech to end. Your conservative, right-wing, phobic fundamentalist beliefs are disruptive to this university. Christianity should be saved for church; it has no place in the classroom."

  "Let me follow your logic. You're equating hate speech with Christianity. And it's okay to use hate speech in the church, but not in the classroom. Am I to assume that you don't see your views as hate speech toward the ideas and beliefs of Christians?"

  Fallworth ignored the question. "Murphy, I'd like to see your idiotic archaeology class removed from the school curriculum entirely."

  "Well, Archer, I have about a hundred and fifty students who are excited about the class. I don't hear any of them complaining about it. The only complaints come from you, and you haven't attended any of my lectures recently. So much for intellectual honesty."

  "Do you know who you're talking to?"

  "Yes, I think so. I think I'm talking to a person who had a bad religious experience at some time in his life and is hurt and angry about it. Or maybe you have some moral issues that you are struggling with. It's been my experience that when emotions are out of control for the event going on... something else is going on."

  "We're through talking, Murphy. Just remember what I said; your job may depend upon it."

  "Is that a threat, Archer?"

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  TWENTY-TWO

  MURPHY AND ISIS WERE SEATED at a window table in the Pierre, overlooking Central Park, awaiting Levi Abrams.

  Murphy could not take his eyes off Isis. She was stunning. Her long red hair seemed to shimmer like spun gold. Being with such a beautiful woman almost took his breath away.

  His heart raced as Isis looked across the table at him and smiled. Murphy glanced out the window, trying to rein in his emotions. He could see the pond, the Wollman Memorial Rink, magnificent trees, and the lights of the city twinkling on the other side of the park.

  Isis spoke softly. "There's something lovely about New York in the evening, isn't there?"

  "You're right. I think that since 9/11, when the World Trade Center was destroyed, everyone looks a little differently at the city now. It sort of brought everyone together."

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  Isis focused on Murphy for a moment, watching him gaze out the window. He had a handsome rugged quality about him. He was decisive and straightforward. No pretense at all. He was positive, full of life, and always seeking adventure. He was short on patience and strong on opinions, but she had grown to appreciate his candor and openness. It was infinitely better than some of the other men she had dated, who had no opinions or convictions about anything.

  Murphy glanced up and caught Isis looking at him. Something in her eyes, in her whole being, unnerved him. He was trying to think of something to say when he heard a voice.

  "So, what are you lovebirds up to?"

  Murphy felt a twinge of embarrassment at Levi Abrams's words. He hadn't shared his growing feelings for Isis openly with her yet.

  Murphy stood, and the men hugged and clapped each other on the back. Then Abrams bent down and kissed Isis on the cheek. "My, my, but you do look lovely tonight. Michael, I'm glad we could get together. This is a fine spot. It has been a couple of years since I have eaten here."

  Fadil stood in the shadows shaking nervously as he watched the street. Nothing seemed strange or out of place. He looked over at the window of Aladdin's Magic Carpet and could see a few people sitting at tables eating dinner. He glanced at his watch, then cautiously crossed the street and entered.

  The dim lights made it hard to see who was in the

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  restaurant. The scent of curry filled the air. Fadil made his way to the back and saw familiar faces. He nodded slightly to them and sat down.

  Asim was the first to speak. "I'm glad you all could make it tonight. I have received a coded e-mail from Abdul Rachid Makar. He has instructed us to ready ourselves."

  "You mean that we no longer have to be sleeping warriors?" Ibrahim asked, excited. "When does our leader want us to strike?"

  "Soon, very soon! The infidel dogs will again face the terror of Allah! They thought 9/11 was bad. Won't they be surprised?"

  Fadil's voice trembled when he spoke. "Will it be in the morning or in the night?"

  Asim looked around and lowered his voice. "It will be in the morning, when the infidels are going to work. Will you be able to disrupt the power grid?"

  Fadil nodded.

  "Good. I have been informed that the devices are on the way," Asim said. "Most of their security is in the airports, train stations, and government buildings. We will catch them off guard and hurt them greatly."

  Everyone lifted his glass. "To the death!"

  "That was a wonderful meal, Michael. And to be in the company of such a beautiful lady too. I'm doubly blessed," Abrams said.

  They all laughed.

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  "Michael, tell me about your crazy idea to go back to Babylon." Abrams turned serious now.

  "I told you about my encounter with Methuselah and the ancient plaster."

  "It was at least twenty-five hundred years old," Isis explained. "I ran a carbon dating test on it in the Parchments of Freedom laboratories."

  "I think that Methuselah has found Nebuchadnezzar's Handwriting on the Wall and has given us clues to find it. Could you make arrangements to get us into Iraq?"

  "I might be able to. Do you remember Colonel Davis of the U.S. Marines?"

  "You mean the one with the bone-crushing handshake?"

  "Yes, he's the one. I was told he's still overseeing the guarding of Babylon. I think I can pull some strings. But don't you want to take someone else with you besides just the two of
you?"

  "Who were you thinking of?"

  "Your friend Jassim Amram. The professor of archaeology at the American University in Cairo. He is an expert on Arab culture and identifying ancient artifacts. I think he'd be of great help to you."

  "That's a good idea, Levi. And he's the sonar sled expert. Using it can speed up the search process. I think I know about where the spot should be, but sonar would help pinpoint it. I'll call him tomorrow, check his availability, and have him find out about the sonar sled."

  "I'll e-mail Colonel Davis and get permission. Do you have funding yet?"

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  "We're still working on that," Isis replied. "The foundation is excited about the possibility of such a find."

  There was a slight pause. "Levi, how about your business? Have you gotten the information you came to New York for?" Murphy knew that he wouldn't be able to discuss details.

  "Well, let's just say that we are following up on rumors that an important transaction is about to take place."

  "In New York?"

  "We're not sure, but there is a strong possibility. I'll be following up on some details here for the next couple of days and then I'm off to Texas," Abrams said.

  "Texas? What are you men talking about?" Isis asked, a questioning look on her face.

  "Just men talk," Abrams said as he looked at his watch. "I'm sorry but I must run. I need to catch a cab. I have a late appointment this evening."

  "No need for that," Murphy told him. "I have a rental car; I'll give you a lift."

  "That would be great, Michael. Let me go make a phone call and then we can leave."

  "What was that all about?" Isis asked when Abrams had left.

  "Terrorists. It sounds like Levi's group"--Murphy raised his eyebrows--"is getting information that there may be another bomb attack in New York."

  "Why then is he going to fly to Texas?"

  "My guess is that something is going to be smuggled across the Mexican border. It's almost impossible to guard without the National Guard. Rumors are that Mexico is the favorite route for terrorists to enter the

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  United States these days. After they arrive, some go into what's called sleeper cells awaiting orders to strike predetermined targets in the United States."

  "You got all that from his conversation?"

  "No, not tonight's. I know quite a bit about Levi." Murphy lowered his voice. "I think he's an undercover agent for Mossad here in the States. That's how he's so well connected."

  "Are we talking about spy activities?"

  "You might say that. I'm just glad he's on the side of the good guys. I'll drop you off at the hotel first, then I'll take Levi to meet his friends."

  Isis looked worried. "Michael, I want you to be careful," she said softly.

  Murphy hesitated for a moment, then reached across the table and took her hand in his. He was about to make a joking comment but could tell from her look that it would be inappropriate.

  He smiled and spoke gently. "I'll be fine. I'll be very careful. I want us to have many more conversations together."

  Isis smiled, yet she felt a twinge of fear deep inside.

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  TWENTY-THREE

  MURPHY DROVE NORTH and then turned east on 62nd Street to the FDR Drive.

  "Michael, take the toll bridge over to Randalls Island Park and then highway 278 into the Bronx. I need to meet my contact near Hunts Point Market."

  Murphy had been to Hunts Point on one other occasion, on the way to the Bronx Zoo with some friends. They wanted him to see one of the largest food distribution centers in the United States. He remembered them saying that it provided produce and meat for more than 15 million people. Tons of food were loaded and unloaded in the teeming market each day It was a rough-and-tumble place. Many of the men who worked in the market were not the type you'd want to meet in a dark alley Murphy remembered seeing just about every nationality possible working side by side. It would be easy for a terrorist to disappear into that crowd , he recognized.

  Abrams broke into his thoughts. "Did you know that a number of famous people came from the Bronx?"

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  "I know that Yankee Stadium is there. I've been to a number of games."

  "Oh, yes, but people who came from the Bronx: Regis Philbin, Carl Reiner, and even Colin Powell. I met him in Israel."

  "When was that?" asked Murphy.

  "When he was head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. I also heard that the movie actors James Caan and Tony Curtis, along with Bobby Darin, the singer, and Ralph Lauren, the designer and perfume guy, lived there. I think Al Pacino and Neil Simon came from the Bronx too."

  "You're a walking trivia book, Levi. Do you have any trivia on the business acquaintances you're looking for?"

  Abrams hesitated for a moment. "Michael, turn there at the next corner."

  Murphy could tell that his friend wanted to change the subject.

  "Michael, slow down now. Turn off your lights and pull over to the curb."

  Murphy followed Abrams's request without question.

  "See the old car in the next block?"

  "The one in front of the old tenement house?"

  "Yes, that's Jacob. Quickly turn the dome light on and off."

  Murphy did as requested and then waited. After thirty seconds, the brake lights of the old car flashed on and off.

  "We can approach," Abrams explained. "After I find out what's happening, you can go back to the hotel, Michael."

  Together they walked the block to the old car and got in the backseat.

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  "Who is that, Levi?" Jacob asked.

  "This is my friend Michael Murphy. You can speak freely in front of him. He can be trusted. What have you learned?"

  "There are about seven of them," Jacob said. "We have the first names of three, and we're working on the other four. There is a short stocky man with a dark mustache. His name is Asim. He looks like a short Saddam. We think he's their leader. There is a tall thin man named Fadil. He seems to be a very nervous type. The other one is Ibrahim. I think he has a short fuse. He is a very intense person, a true zealot."

  "Have you discovered anything about their plans?" asked Abrams.

  "We intercepted an e-mail to Asim. It was from Abdul Rachid Makar."

  "Makar!"

  "Yes, the number-two man in the movement. He's very powerful and demands absolute loyalty. He rules with a strong hand. One of our informants told us that he held a party for his wife and invited his friends. One of those in attendance had stolen a small amount of money from him sometime before."

  "Let me guess. He cut off the man's hand."

  "No. He cut off the man's head right in front of everyone. He is a very evil man."

  "What did the e-mail say?"

  "We're still trying to decode it. But we're pretty sure that it is telling them to get ready for a significant attack. We don't know where or when, but it sounds as if it will be soon. It seems to indicate New York."

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  "That makes sense. It would be a great boost for their movement if they could get through the security defenses a second time. Where's Matthew?"

  "Around the corner in a car watching the back entrance."

  "Let's get him."

  As Abrams, Jacob, and Murphy approached, they could see a man who seemed to be focused on something in front of the car. When Abrams tapped on the driver's window, the man didn't move.

  "Something's wrong!" Abrams exclaimed, pulling the door wide. Matthew's eyes were open, but Abrams knew instantly that he was dead. But why was he sitting straight up?

  Jacob opened the back door. "Levi. He's been stabbed."

  Murphy looked over Jacob's shoulder. Someone must have been in the backseat and run a long knife through the seat and into the man's back. The knife held him in an upright position.

  Abrams and Jacob closed the doors and wiped their fingerprints off the door handles.

  "Are you just going to leave him there?" M
urphy asked.

  "Michael, this is the sad part of our business," Abrams explained somberly. "We must leave our friend there. He is undercover and has no identification on him. We cannot remain here for the police or any other agency to find us. We all know the price when we join."

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  "We've got to move quickly!" Jacob exclaimed. "We can't wait for them to launch an attack. We must stop them before they do something."

  "Do you know where they are?"

  "They live on the fifth floor on the end, where the light is."

  Abrams turned to Murphy "You must leave. You cannot be found with us. It's too dangerous."

  "There're two of you and seven of them, and you're asking me to leave? No way I'm going with you."

  "You're not armed."

  "I'll take my chances." Even as he said that, Murphy could recall Isis's worried look. He had promised her he would be careful.

  It only took them a couple of minutes to get to the fifth floor. They approached the door quietly, then paused and listened. They could hear a television playing. Jacob opened his jacket and took out a set of lock picks. Slowly he inserted them. Within a few seconds there was a click and the men froze.

  Abrams drew his gun and whispered, "I don't think they heard it. Let's wait a moment and then go in."

  Jacob nodded, put away the picks, and drew his automatic. Both of them screwed on silencers. Murphy could tell that this was not the first time they had worked together. They were like a well-oiled machine.

  Abrams nodded and Jacob slowly turned the knob and opened the door. They entered a small hallway that had two doors opposite each other. One door was open, the other closed. A flickering blue light came from the open door along with the sound of the television. They inched