CHAPTER 7
Whirling around, Barak saw a sandy brown-haired man standing on the other side of the desk. An unearthly glow poured off him. With a trembling hand, Jacob set his coffee cup in its saucer; it landed with a clink. Rising to his feet, he pointed his finger, gaping. “What—who—?”
“I am an angel. My name is Andrew. Sent by God.” The angel stepped toward him.
Hastily, Jacob wiped his chin with his napkin, then whirled to face the angel. He stood rooted to the spot. He couldn’t believe his ears—or his eyes! An angel was in the office with him? It couldn’t be!
“Sent by Jehovah?” he finally whispered.
“Yes. Sent by the great I Am, Himself,” Andrew said. “God has sent me with a message for you.”
Jacob nodded. “What kind of message?”
Andrew took another step toward Jacob. He inserted his hands into his pants pockets. “Jacob, God wants you to forgive David, and to ask his forgiveness. David and Ben are right—extremely dangerous times are coming for your nation, and you need to be united in love, not divided by hatred. You’re hurting yourself by harboring your grudge against him. And you're being hindered from taking the necessary actions to save the lives of your people.”
Barak didn’t want to listen to Andrew; he wanted to shut his ears and shout at the angel to get out. But he knew he couldn’t. If this angel really was from Jehovah, then he had no choice but to listen.
“I can’t,” he admitted, his voice hard. “I—I hate David! I’ve hated him ever since we had that terrible fight years ago.”
“I know, Jacob. And God knows.” Andrew touched Jacob’s shoulder. “He will heal you of your hatred if you will ask Him. Just ask God do so.”
For a long moment, Barak just stared at the carpeted floor. He twisted his toe around, flattening carpet tufts underneath. For a moment, he thought of asking what Andrew meant about taking necessary actions, then decided against it. He didn't want to believe that any action would be necessary; surely Puccini would live up to the treaty they had signed! He just had to.
Finally, without responding or saying good-bye, Jacob marched out of the room. He was in no hurry to act on Andrew’s urging; he didn’t even want to think about it at that moment. Andrew sighed. "Plan D, Father?" he prayed. He gazed at the ceiling, then nodded.
A few hours later, back at the hotel, Ben kneeled at the side of his bed, praying. It was past ten o’ clock. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes, his prayer shawl draped around his shoulders. “God,” he prayed, “I ask you to open my cousins’ hearts. Both of them. Please make Jacob aware of the seriousness of the situation.” He paused, rubbing his fingers against the silky-soft bedspread. “And please send us warm temperatures.”
“He will, Benjamin.”
Ben rose to his feet and turned around. Andrew and Monica stood near the door, glowing. Monica repeated what she had just said. “He will, Ben. He will make things right between your cousins, and He will send you the weather conditions you need in order to flee. But He wants to use you some more.”
Ben frowned. “In what way, Monica?”
Andrew spoke up. “He wants you to accept Jacob’s invitation to go to Rome with him. Richard and Ryan will be the pilots, and I will go along as well. Also, another will be accompanying us, to serve as a bodyguard for Jacob.”
“Who?” Ben looked straight into Andrew’s eyes.
“You will find out tomorrow.” Andrew smiled. “God wants you to spy on Puccini. The only way Jacob will listen is if you can present him with proof that Antonio is indeed going to break the treaty and desecrate your temple.” He raised his arm above his head to lean it against the doorway. “It’s a dangerous job He’s giving you, so He’s sending another angel and myself as backup.”
Ben snorted. “You’re certainly right it’s dangerous! If I’m discovered there—in the city where I tried to kill Puccini—I’m history.”
Andrew dropped his hands to his sides and straightened his back. “That’s why He’s sending two angels to protect you.” The angel of death laid his hand on Ben’s shoulder, a smile crossing his face. “I’m not ready to take you Home just yet, and God isn’t sending me to. He wants you to live so you can report what you learn to Jacob.”
Ben sighed. “Very well. I’ll do it.”
“Good.” Monica smiled. “God is watching over you; don’t forget that. Wear your new disguise, so you won’t be recognized. You won’t need your winter coat in Rome—it’s warmer there than it is here—but you will need it when you go to the airport.” The two angels vanished.
The next morning, as Ben, bundled up and wearing his Orthodox Jew disguise, boarded the plane, Richard greeted him. He had on his immaculate white pilot’s uniform and his dark jacket. “I see you decided to come.”
“Yes.” Ben smiled. In a low voice, he added, “God is sending me on a dangerous mission in Rome. He sent Andrew and Monica to tell me, last night.”
Richard bit his lower lip, then glanced out the window at the still-golden sun rising above the buildings. “You’d better do it, then. Ryan and I are going to stay on the plane until our return to Israel, so we can avoid detection. Rest assured that we’ll be praying for you.”
“Thank you.” Ben smiled gratefully. Just then, Miki stepped into the cabin, wearing his khaki outfit.
A surprised expression etched Richard’s face. “Miki! What are you doing here?”
Miki chuckled. “Believe it or not, I’ve been assigned as Barak’s bodyguard. It seems that the prime minister asked my commanding officer to recommend someone, and he recommended me. So here I am.” He folded his arms across his chest as he spoke.
Richard turned to Ben. “Uh, this is Miki—he’s a new recruit for the Israeli Defense Forces. A recruit with impressive credentials and abilities, it appears, judging from the use his captain is putting him to,” he added, chuckling. Miki nodded, an amused smile on his face. Grinning, Richard added, "I should add that he knows his way around Jerusalem well. If any of you should ever get lost, just ask for Miki. He'll help you!" The others laughed. Miki made a face, then laughed as well.
Ben nodded toward Richard. “If you gentlemen’ll excuse me, I’ve got some praying to do.”
“Of course.” Richard returned to the cockpit. Miki left the cabin to go to the one Barak was staying in. Ben slumped into the nearest chair and closed his eyes.
Andrew, where are you? he wondered silently. I haven’t seen you since last night. He adjusted his hat.
He scanned the cabin and shrugged. He could only trust that God would send Andrew back when he was needed. Apparently, the angel wouldn’t be needed on the plane.
The flight to Rome went smoothly. Ben removed his coat and gloves while the plane was en route. When it landed, he knelt on the carpeted floor to pray next to his seat.
God, he prayed, let me know when you want me to carry out my mission. And as You promised me through Andrew, please send him to keep me from being detected by Puccini or anyone else. Give me a way to accomplish this spy mission. He paused. And please don’t let the abomination happen on Saturday, or we will only be able to take a short Sabbath-day journey. Please change the frigid temperatures we’ve been enduring and grant us warm, sunny weather on that day.
He felt a check in his spirit when he pondered whether to leave for his spy mission immediately. He wants me to wait, I guess.
A minute later, Barak left for his meeting, accompanied by Miki. Two hours passed while Ben sat hunched in a soft, cushioned armchair, head bowed, praying constantly. When Jacob finally returned, he nodded toward his cousin. Ben raised his hand in greeting.
At that moment, he felt an inner prompting. It's time!
Biting his lower lip, he rose to his feet and made sure the wig and beard were securely in place. He set the hat back on his head. I can only hope that my Orthodox Jew appearance will not attract unwanted attention! I want to blend in, not stand out. I wish I'd brought my other disguise! He sighed. Oh, well. I can only entrust myself to God's protection anyway. At least, I won’t need my coat here.
He left the plane and entered the terminal. A few minutes later, he arrived at the parking lot; he felt his heart palpitate. He took a deep breath to calm himself. I can only trust God now.
Ben exhaled deeply and squeezed his eyes shut. The nervousness he had felt, entering the Knesset where Barak worked, was nothing compared to the fear welling in his gut now. He was walking into the den of lions, he knew; if they caught him, he was as good as dead.
Please, God, he silently prayed, make a way for me and protect me! Please send the angels.
END OF CHAPTER 7