We headed north as fast as we could travel without giving the appearance of undue haste to passers-by. Everyone wanted to put as much distance as we could between ourselves and the site of our skirmish, just in case, though otherwise we were in no hurry.
I calculated that if Bryson had made his departure just after Lavon and I had fallen asleep, he had about a three hour head start on his journey to the tomb. We’d catch up to him soon enough, unless …
“Do you think he’ll get lost?” I asked Lavon.
The archaeologist laughed. Over the past few years, both of us had watched otherwise brilliant and capable technologists become hopelessly disoriented whenever their GPS gadgets had failed. Old-fashioned orienteering remained a useful skill, despite the ridicule of the “dead tree” crowd.
However, as we considered the matter, neither of us believed this would be a problem today. To reach the quarry complex, all the Professor had to do was trace a circle around the city’s main walls. He knew generally where it was, and as long as he avoided conflict with other travelers, he’d stumble onto it eventually.
***
As we came closer to the Antonia, I felt brief pangs of worry that we might encounter Roman pursuers as well, but the more I thought about it, the more my concerns diminished.
In the broad scheme of things, we were small fry — at least today. Given everything that had happened over the past week, Pilate and the senior officials were undoubtedly breathing deep sighs of relief that they had made it to the Passover without an explosive cataclysm of violence.
As for the ordinary soldiers, I had been in their shoes long enough to know that they were probably just beginning to knock back their first goblets of wine, thankful to be alive, like their counterparts throughout the ages.
The others, though, didn’t completely share my assessment. Sharon, in particular, grew more worried the closer we came to the western side of the city, so we finally decided to conceal ourselves behind a small ridge and take a brief rest.
“I’m not wild on the idea of going anywhere near the palace again,” she said. “Do you think Herod will send more men after us?”
I was certain he would — though not of the timing.
“It depends on when their commanders realize the first batch has gone AWOL,” I said.
Lavon put the question to Naomi, who explained that the city’s gates would be sealed tight at sunset for the Sabbath and the Passover. If the soldiers couldn’t make it back by then, they’d just camp out for the night.
“They’d probably prefer that, anyway,” she added.
“Wouldn’t it be difficult to guard five prisoners?” asked Sharon.
Lavon couldn’t help but laugh. He knew, as I did, that no guarding would be necessary. If we got caught, the soldiers would pass the time taking turns with the two women, while the remainder of our heads greeted the dawn from the bottom of a sack.
But these thoughts, ironically, made me feel better about our chances.
Lavon agreed. “In all likelihood,” he said, “no one will begin asking questions about the guards until mid-morning, at least.”
Sharon glanced over to me. “If that’s the case, why don’t we do what you suggested earlier and put as much distance between ourselves and the city as we can. We can travel through the night if we have to; the moon is full.”
This was eminently sensible. I felt sure that we could find water somewhere. Moreover, according to Lavon, the most fanatical Zealots refused to fight on the Sabbath, so our odds were at least reasonable that we could avoid any conflicts with the crew who had ambushed us coming in.
The others rose up and started off to the west, but as they did, a darker thought entered my mind.
I reached up to touch the comforting Kevlar thread around my neck, which suddenly felt much less reassuring.
“We may have another problem,” I said. “Do you all still have your chips?”
They did not. Sharon had lost hers when Herod had taken her transmitter, and Markowitz’s had disappeared in the dungeon. Only Lavon and I had managed to hang on to our precious composites.
“As long as we stay together, we don’t all need one,” the archaeologist said.
“OK,” I replied. “But …”
Sharon interrupted. “Then we don’t have to risk it. Let the Professor take his chances, if he’s so inclined.”
“Quite frankly, I’d like nothing more than to do just that,” I said. “But I’m not certain we can any longer; not now.”
I held out my chip and displayed it to the others.
“Do you remember when we first got to the fortress, when Bryson showed us his, with the LED warning light?”
“We didn’t have them,” said Markowitz. “He said ours were earlier prototypes.”
“That’s right.”
The others weren’t slow to catch on.
“Are you saying they might not work?” asked Sharon.
“We have to consider the possibility,” I replied.
“But that doesn’t make sense,” said Sharon. “When we departed the lab, our whole objective was to conduct a rescue operation and bring Dr. Bryson back home. Juliet had no incentive to block our return.”
“That’s also correct,” I said. “She had no incentive then. But what if they can communicate — for instance, with light signals, like Morse Code?”
“Why?” gasped Sharon. “Why would he strand us here now?”
“It would eliminate an inconvenient obstacle to his plans,” said Lavon.
The archaeologist explained to Sharon the nature of the arguments we had undertaken while she endured her captivity in Herod’s palace. To her credit, she found Bryson’s schemes as barmy as we had.
“Recall also that Juliet had us sneak in the back door at five in the morning,” Lavon added. “Our cars are still at the hotel. Sure, someone will eventually ask questions when we never come back, but what’s that phrase the politicians use?”
“Plausible deniability,” I said. “When the police show up, as they will at some point, she can give them the run of the place. Sure, we were there, but …”
“This is still completely illogical,” said Sharon. “Jesus’s tomb isn’t the only one in the area. It’s not obvious which one is correct.”
“I wonder if he knows that?” I asked.
That was a question we couldn’t answer. We wrestled with our options a little longer, but ultimately we made the practical choice. None of us had the confidence to do otherwise.
***
By this point, we observed only scattered clusters of travelers making haste to enter Jerusalem before the gates closed at sundown. This proved to be a reassuring spectacle.
“We have a perfect window of opportunity,” said Lavon. “By now, the burial party has returned to the city. We’ll have nearly an hour to see the tomb before it gets completely pitch-dark.”
“What about the guards?” I asked.
“There shouldn’t be any tonight. According to Matthew’s account, the Jewish authorities didn’t go to Pilate and request a guard until the following day.”
That was comforting, though we’d still have to face them on Sunday.
“Do you think the legionnaires took their assignment seriously?” I asked.
Despite their rigorous discipline, I felt sure that the Romans would consider their mission a pointless waste of time.
Lavon considered my question but didn’t immediately reply.
“It could lessen their vigilance,” I added.
“Maybe,” he finally answered. “Most people assume the sentries were Romans, but Matthew’s wording is enigmatic. Pilate said ‘you have a guard’ or something to that effect. Did that mean, ‘I’m giving you a Roman guard,’ or ‘you have your own Temple police, use them.’ I’ve heard good arguments both ways.”
“What do you think?”
“Temple police,” he said without hesitation. “Do you really believe that the legionnaires we’ve encountered would take a bribe to confess to what amounted to a capital offense?”
“Not a chance,” I replied. “I’m sure they’d take bribes, but not for that. The risk versus reward wouldn’t stack up.”
“That’s how I see it,” Lavon added. “Besides, the Gospels say that the guards gave their initial statements to the high priests. Roman soldiers would have reported through their own command structure. In that case, Pilate, or at least Volusus, would have heard about it before the Jewish authorities did.”
“Then why ask for Pilate’s permission at all? Since they had the Temple police at their disposal, why not just send them out?”
“I’m sure that was forbidden. I’d imagine the Romans were pretty touchy about letting any sort of organized armed force roam about outside. That may have been why only one of the goons chasing us today wore a uniform.”
This made perfect sense, although one thing still bothered me: “Don’t the Gospels also say that the priests promised to take care of soldiers in case they got into trouble with the governor?”
“Yes, they do.”
“In that case, if they were just Temple police, why would Pilate care?”
He smiled. “Now you know why we have so many arguments about it.”