CHAPTER 4
At the Knesset, the receptionist’s phone jangled. The newly-hired temporary receptionist, Gloria, picked it up. “Prime Minister Barak’s office,” she said.
A pause. “Gloria? Is that you?”
Gloria beamed. Leaning forward, she spoke into the receiver. “Yes! Hello, David. I’m working as your cousin’s receptionist at this time. Do you wish to speak with him?” She fingered her glasses as she spoke, then rested her left arm on the smooth surface of the desk. An overhead light illuminated every object that lay on its glossy surface.
A sigh on the other end. “I don’t wish to, Gloria, but Monica has convinced me that God wants me to. If you could call Jacob to the phone, I’d be most grateful.” He paused. “I—I need to come to his office and see him. It’s an emergency, I’m afraid. The fate of our people is at stake.”
Gloria nodded. “Yes, I know it is. I’ll speak with him. Hold on.” She put David on hold, then switched to Barak’s line.
“What is it, Gloria?” Barak’s heavy Israeli accent reached Gloria’s ears.
Gloria cradled the receiver between her ear and her shoulder. “Your cousin David is on the other line, waiting to speak to you. Shall I transfer him?”
A long pause. “I’ll come in there.” The line clicked.
The door behind her slammed open; Jacob Barak rushed into the room, his face beet-red, his shoes softly thudding on the thick carpet. He looked immaculate in a polyester suit, as he always did, but rage contorted his face. “Why did you even take his call?” he roared.
Swiveling her leather-upholstered armchair, Gloria leaned back to gaze up at the irate prime minister. “I don’t understand, sir. He is your cousin.”
“I don’t want to talk to him, though!” Jacob shouted. “I want nothing to do with the man!”
Gloria rose to her feet. “You have had a quarrel with him?” she asked, gently.
Jacob sighed. For a long moment, he rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, then fingered the diamond pendant pinned to his collar. It sparkled in the light emanating from the overhead bulb. “Years ago. We haven’t spoken since.” He shook his head.
Gloria touched his shoulder. “He wishes to come here and speak with you. He says it’s an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?” Barak glared at her.
“An emergency that could affect the fate of your people.” She dropped her hand to her side.
As Gloria stood silently, her employer stared at the phone. He seethed inside. The nerve of David, to ask for a meeting with him! With all his heart, he yearned to refuse to even speak to his cousin, just to hurt him. However, what if it really was an emergency? What if David had been ordered by his employer to call the prime minister? Barak had no desire to alienate Puccini’s right-hand man, Elijah Dayan!
At last, he sighed. “I’ll talk to him,” he muttered, “but I’ll take the call in my office.” He rubbed his forehead again, then shook his head.
Back in his office, Barak gripped the receiver so tightly his knuckles turned white. “What is it, David?!” he asked, his voice harsh.
“It is just what I told your receptionist, Jacob. I need to meet with you.” David’s voice sounded carefully neutral.
“David, I’m a busy man. Don’t bother me!” Jacob snapped.
As he started to hang up on his cousin, he reconsidered, the same thought occurring to him now that had persuaded him to take the call, to begin with. Elijah Dayan, he knew, had employed David for some years. As far as he knew, David still worked for him. Suppose Dayan had ordered his cousin to set up this meeting with him? He could ill afford to risk the hostility of his ex-foreign minister, now assistant to Antonio Puccini. He glanced out the window at the late-afternoon sunlight pouring into the room.
With a sigh, he held the receiver back against his ear. “Very well. I don’t want to even see you, David—I will not pretend otherwise. But I will meet with you, this once. Come on by; I will wait for you.”
“Thank you, Jacob. I’ll be there.” A dial tone replaced David’s voice.
Jacob stepped back into the receptionist area. “Send David to my office when he arrives,” he ordered Gloria. The angel nodded acquiescence. Shaking his head, Jacob returned to his office and poured himself a glass of red wine, clutching it. The crystal glass sparkled in the sunlight as he took sips of the ruby-colored liquid inside. He looked at the thermometer. I’ll have to wear my coat going home, he thought, as I had to, coming here.
Minutes later, David entered the Knesset, wrapped in his brown coat. For a long moment, he stood in the front lobby, taking deep breaths, feeling the heater’s warmth flow through his body. Please, God, he silently prayed, surely there is someone else You could have chosen for this!
With a sigh, he trudged toward the elevator, shaking his head, shoes softly thudding on the thick carpet. There was no getting out if it; he would just have to go through with this order from Jehovah and take the consequences. A few minutes later, the elevator stopped on the floor his cousin worked on. The door slid open.
Inching down the hallway, he entered the elegant suite where he saw Gloria perched at the receptionist’s desk. “Hello, Gloria.” He raised his hand in greeting. “I must say, I’m not really surprised to see you here.”
Gloria laughed. “No, you shouldn’t be, not by now. The Father has assigned me to work under Barak.” She half-turned her body to lean toward the mahogany door behind her. “Your cousin is waiting for you.” She smiled encouragingly.
With a nod of thanks, David set his jaw and marched toward that door. He knocked softly. “Come in,” a familiar voice called.
Pushing the door open, David entered the luxuriously furnished room. In front of the window, Jacob Barak remained seated at his desk, eyes cold. He didn’t take them off David, as the nervous man shut the door. A half-empty wine glass stood on a round coaster on his desk; David could see the wine glass’s reflection in the desk’s glossy, polished surface.
“Did Elijah Dayan send you here?” Jacob asked, bluntly.
David shook his head, suppressing an amused smile. “No, Jacob, but I was sent, nevertheless. I’m sure you can guess that nothing trivial would have brought me here after all these years.”
Jacob rose to his feet. His shoes made shallow dents in the carpet tufts as he circled his desk to face David. “Will, since it is important, why don’t you tell me? As I told you on the phone, I’m a busy man, and I have no time to chat.”
“And neither do I.” David’s voice turned cold. “Rest assured I am not here to waste your time or my own. I’m here because the lives of Jerusalem residents are at stake.”
He approached the desk to face his cousin, in turn; both men stood sideways to its front edge. The two cousins looked each other squarely in the eye.
“What do you mean, at stake?” Jacob’s voice dripped scorn.
David flinched. You’re not making this easy, Jacob! Out loud, he said, “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but Antonio Puccini is going to break the treaty he made with you, three-and-a-half years ago.”
“What do you mean?!” Jacob clenched his hands while pressing his right fist against his desk.
“I mean, he’s going to withdraw his offer of protection to our people. And he’s going to desecrate the new temple. When he does, our lives are going to be in mortal danger if we stay in Jerusalem, Jacob. We will have to flee, all residents of this city.”
“Flee?” Jacob spat into his ash tray. “To where?”
“To Petra.” David paused. “In Jordan.”
Jacob snorted. “Now, what does this have to do with me?”
“What does…” David’s voice trailed off, as he stared at his cousin. “You’re the prime minister, Jacob! Think about it! When Puccini desecrates the temple, the whole city will have to be evacuated, immediately; furthermore, it will have to be done in a safe, orderly fashion.” He took a step toward his cousin. “Someone needs to order the Israeli Defense Forces to conduct the evacuation, so that chaos and confusion will not break out. That someone is you, Jacob. You will need to issue the orders.”
Jacob put his hands on his hips, a steely glint in his eyes. “You really believe that the man who promised our protection is going to go back on his word? Well, I do not!” Fists still clenched, he glared at David. “I take no orders or suggestions from you, and if you know what’s good for you, you will leave—now!”
Rage and frustration seethed in David’s heart. This meeting was turning out just as he had feared. Not only was Barak convinced that Puccini was no real threat, he was using the meeting as a chance to hurt and humiliate his cousin. David banged his fist on the desk, causing the ash tray and the wine glass to jolt.
“Are you so blind?” he shouted. “Or are you just so determined to hurt me in revenge that you’re willing to harm our people as well? The lives of the people of Jerusalem are in real danger! Puccini is going to turn his back on us, and the Arab nations are going to try to destroy us! Russia, too!” He swallowed. “I am not making this up—I have it on the highest authority!”
“Get out!” Jacob grabbed David by the coat collar. “I mean it—get out, and never come back!”
He shoved David toward the door; reaching around his cousin, he jerked it open with his left hand. He practically hurled David into the reception room; David banged his legs against Gloria’s desk.
“Gloria, I never want this man to come here again!” Jacob ordered. “Do not take any more of his calls! If he ever calls again or comes by, refuse him!” He slammed the door.
END OF CHAPTER 4