Mac shook his head as if he had no choice. "Jinnah?"

"No! Please! Wait! Elena! Elena, are you there? Come in now, please. I am not joking! Answer me! Aristotle! Aristotle, they will kill me! I know I was not supposed to call you, but I don't care! Please, please come in or He shook his head, sobbing.

"They're close by, aren't they?"

He nodded. "You might as well kill me, because I die either way."

"What are you saying?"

"They said not to contact them, no matter what. Don't tell, no matter what."

"But they didn't mean not to tell me, did they? Surely not. They meant if they were right about the sounds. If the wrong people showed up. They're not afraid of GC, are they?"

The man shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I do not understand. But I am a dead man."

"Then what difference does it make if you tell me?"

Socrates seemed to think about it. He scooted back against the wall and wiped his eyes. He put his walkietalkie back into his pocket. When he reached for his weapon, Mac said, "Just let that lie."

Socrates seemed to be trying to catch his breath.

"Were they close enough to hear the shot?" Mac said.

"No. Maybe."

"How close?"

"Five hundred meters east. There is a lean to garage."

Mac sat in an ancient stuffed chair. "Then they heard you calling for them."

Socrates nodded.

"And they left you to die."

Chapter.

THE CELEBRATING, singing, and dancing at Petra continued into the dark of night. People by the thousands filed into the new pool to submerge themselves and to drink directly from the wide spring in the middle. Manna covered the ground, and Rayford was nearly woozy from its refreshing taste.

"Eating directly from G.o.d's table," he told Abdullah, "was something I never expected in this lifetime."

Abdullah looked overwhelmed with joy. "How can this be, Captain?

How dare we be so blessed?" The wording was lost on Rayford, but he knew what his friend meant.

A young woman, probably not yet twenty, approached. "Rayf ord Steele?" she said shyly.

Rayford stood. "Yes, dear."

"Two things, if I may," she said, speaking very slowly and holding up two fingers. "You understand?" "Yes, what is it?"

"Is it true you speak only English?"

"To my shame, yes. Well, a smattering of Spanish. Not enough to converse."

"Do not feel bad, sir. I speak only Hebrew."

"Well, your English is lovely too, young lady."

"You do not understand."

"I understand you perfectly. You speak English beautifully."

She laughed. "You do not understand."

Abdullah leaned in, chuckling. "And you are funny, young one.

Speaking Arabic and yet talking about knowing only Hebrew. And Rayford, how is it you know Arabic?"

The girl threw back her head and laughed again. "We all speak in our own languages and understand each other perfectly. "

"What?" Rayford said. "Wait!"

"Sir! I speak only Hebrew."

"And Arabic," Abdullah corrected.

"But no. I was forbidden to learn Arabic."

"I need to lie down," Abdullah said.

"You said there were two things," Rayford said.

"Yes," she said, holding up two fingers again.

"Two "

Rayford put a hand over her fingers. No need. I understand you."

She laughed. "The second thing," and now she spoke more quickly, "is that Drs. Rosenzweig and Ben Judah request an audience with you." "With me? I should request an audience with them! I'm sure they are very busy."

"They asked me to fetch you, sir."

Rayford followed her over piles of rock that had been blown to pieces by the bombs. Just inside a cave, by light from a torch lodged in the wall, Chaim and Tsion sat with several older men.

Tsion introduced Rayford all around and said, "The one we have been telling you about."

The men nodded and smiled. "Praise the Lord, Rayford," Tsion said.

"Continually," Rayford said. "But forgive me if I am preoccupied.

Tsion nodded again. "I too await word from our compatriots in Greece, and yet even now, the Lord quiets me with his peace and confidence."