Irrefutable Proof: Mars Origin "I" Series Book II (11 page)

After the Major left, Kevron put down the rabbit so he could
clean up a bit. He wiped the wet blood off his hands on the towel he had on the
step next to him and walked around the side of the house. Turning on the water
spigot, he rinsed away the dried blood.

Heading into the house, he threw the rabbit into the kitchen
sink and took the stairs two at a time up to his bedroom. At the top of his
closet, in a corner underneath two shoeboxes, he found the case that housed his
Glock 30 .45 and pulled it down off the shelf. Down on the floor he found the
old cigar box where he kept ammunition, brushes and Rem Oil.

They hadn’t filled his position over there at the Pentagon, he
thought, because now they had formed a more elite group of special ops to deal
with people who may have information that they shouldn’t have. And although it
might be a different, more specialized group of agents, the end result was the
same. Neutralize the threat.

Jack Hughes had never known the lengths that he’d gone through
to keep the government’s secrets secret.

Placing a white towel over his mint green chenille bedspread,
he took the Glock out of the box, and grasped the rough
plastic finger grooves of the handle. He needed to fieldstrip it, clean it
and make sure it was ready to go. He dropped the single stacked magazine,
catching it as it bounced onto the bed. Laying it flat, he then checked to see
if there was a round in the chamber. Making sure the gun wasn’t cocked. He
pushed the tabs on either side of the gun down, pulled the slide off the frame,
popped out the recoil spring and pushed the barrel out, spreading the pieces on
the towel.

Going through the motions to ready his weapon, he went over
his next steps.

He’d drive where he needed to go, he decided, then there’d be
no records of him flying anywhere, no records of renting a car. He’d fill up
his dark blue Ford Taurus with cash. He’d had just got a tune up for it, and
new tires. It would take him wherever he needed to go. He kept a stash of money
just in case someone ever came after him. No ATM or credit cards. He still had
one contact in the Pentagon that he could trust if he needed more information,
or something more.

“Major Hughes seemed clueless,” he said out loud, taking out a
small wire brush from the other box. “Hmpf. He may not know what to do, but I
know what needs to be done. And, I’m thinking I might just have to take care of
it myself.”

Chapter Eighteen

Jerusalem
, Israel

October, 1949

She
was young, pretty, outspoken. Too outspoken for her father’s taste. Hannah
Abelson. Sixteen years old. Full of life, and curiosity.

Her
father was very protective of her, which she couldn’t understand. Since her
mother had died, she had become quite independent. Growing up without a mother,
she had learned to cook and clean, even taking care of her father, helping out
at his practice. Yet, her father still wanted to rule her. Treat her like she
was a child.

“I’m
not a child,” she had told him.

And
announced she was going to get married. But he told her no, he would not have
it. She was too young and, he said, she would go to the Hebrew University in
the fall. To become a teacher. There was more to life than marriage.

But
she didn’t care for school, and told him so. She wanted to get married. Ah,
there is enough time for that, he told her. She could wait. And no matter how
much she pleaded, he refused to see things her way. By all that is Holy, he had
said between clenched teeth and with finality, he would see to it that she
would do just as he said.

Fine,
she told him, she could wait, stomping out of the room she thought,
Wait
until he was dead
. Grinning she mumbled under her breath which, just might
not turn out to be too long of a wait. He wouldn’t be able to tell her what to
do then. For now, she would do as her father said. And then in short order, she
would marry.

She
already knew who it would be. Benjamin.

He
worked at a nearby market on Khabad. And she had fallen in love with him. And
he with her, she was sure. They were meant to be together. She knew it from the
first time she saw him. And she could see in his brown - no gray eyes - that he
felt the same way about her. Soon, she would be a happily married woman. She’d
have a house to take care of, and children.
Yes, of course
, she thought.
I’ll have lots of children.
And no father to tell her what she could or
could not do.

Benjamin.
She smiled when she let the name quietly tumble from her lips. She wasn’t sure
of his last name. She would have to find out. Letting out a sigh, she thought
about what she did know. He was quite good looking. He looked like the American
actor James Stewart, tall and slim, with a boyish charm, especially when he
smiled. And, the way he laughed when he met with his friends at the market
where he worked. He was the perfect boy for her. Any girl’s dream. They would
be so happy together. She closed her eyes and hugged herself. Yes, she would go
to the University and then she would marry Benjamin.

Every
day she would go by the market where he worked. One Thursday when she stopped
at the market to see Ben, as she had decided to call him – so much more mature
sounding – he wasn’t there. Where could he be? It was their usual time. She
walked around the store and then stood out in front of it, looking up and down
the street.

“May
I help you, Miss?” The owner asked, stepping out on the sidewalk, where he had
crates of produce lined up for sale.

“Oh,
no. I mean, yes. I was just looking at the oranges.” She picked one up. “How
much?”

Why
is he so late?
she
wondered, peeling the orange she had been forced to buy. She looked at her
watch. She’d be late for school if he took much longer. Thinking better of lingering
in front of the market – that fool owner would just keep bothering her, Hannah
walked across the street to the dress shop. She could look in the windows at
the displays, and no one would notice her. There were more people out now, thank
goodness. She wouldn’t look so obvious standing around. She brushed hair back
off her face, and leaned her back up against the wall of the shop.

Then
she saw him. Butterflies fluttered around in her stomach. Her face brightened
and she pushed herself off the wall, making herself busy, looking in the store
window, nodding at people walking by. Glancing over at him, she watched him
walk down the street. She’d stay until he went in the store, she decided, and
then she’d hurry off to school.

And
then he waved, a big smile spreading across his face. Did he see her looking at
him? Oh no, she thought, trying to hide her face with her hand.

But
then she saw it wasn’t her he was waving at, but another girl, walking down the
street from the opposite direction. Who was she? She wore her hair in a short
bob and had on red lipstick. She looked more like a
woman
than a girl.
Hannah’s heart quickened, she bit down on her trembling lip. Why was he waving
at her? Benjamin trotted past the store, toward the girl. Hannah ran across the
street, back in front of the store, and stood in the middle of the sidewalk.
Frozen, several people had to walk around her as she watched Benjamin put his
arm around that woman and kiss her on her cheek.

That
floozy! What was
she
doing with
her
Benjamin? Hannah felt her
knees buckle, and she grabbed the side of the building to steady herself.

It
was too much. Too much. How could he have done this to her? Hannah let out a
cry, a wail that startled those passing her. She stomped about, screamed and
shook her head violently from side to side. Then she turned over the crates of
oranges and potatoes that were stacked in front of the store. People ran to
her. Even Benjamin, bringing that woman with him, came to see what had happened.

“Dear,
what is it?” someone asked.

“We
were to be married,” Hanna screamed, pointing at Benjamin as he walked up. “But
now he’s with this . . . this
woman
.” The crowd that had formed, all
turned and looked toward where she pointed And there stood Benjamin -
dumfounded.

“I
don’t . . . I don’t even know her,” he stumbled over his words. He looked at
the woman he had just embraced, holding his hand out to her, but she backed away.

“You
do know me!” She spat at him. “How could you say such a thing?” She turned
around and grabbed onto a woman’s arm. “We were supposed to be married.” Tears
were streaming down her face. “I thought he loved me.” She turned to him and
pointed her finger at him. “You told me you loved me.” She hissed at him
between sobs.

His
eyes grew wide, and he shrunk back away from her. “I never said that to her. I
don’t even know her . . .”

“We
meet every day. Most every day.” She could barely speak, she swallowed hard. “At
the market. Ask him. Ask him.” All eyes were on Benjamin. He seemed not to be
able to do anything but shake his head.

“Every
day,” she screamed. “We meet at the market.” She was sobbing uncontrollably,
her eyes red and her chin trembling. “Every day,” she said between sobs. “Every
day.”

 “I
work at the market.” He pointed at the store. “I don’t know what she’s talking
about. She must have me mixed up with someone else,” he said. His hands were shaking
and his face drained of color.

“He’s
lying. He’s terrible to do this to me,” Hannah cried.

“Yes,
dear. He is,” the woman who had been holding Hannah said. “I know. But let’s
get you somewhere you can calm down. Come with me. Shh. Shh. Don’t cry now.”

Chapter
Nineteen

October 30,
1949

“She
followed him around for months.” Levi laid his Borsalino fedora on his lap and,
holding his head down, he rubbed his hand through the crease in the top of the
hat, smoothing down the black felt.

“I
don’t know what to do.” Levi looked up at his friend. “She pretended that they
knew one another. That they were engaged to be married.”

Samuel
grunted. He didn’t know quite what to say.

Levi Abelson and Samuel Yeoman had met when they were
children. And that friendship had held fast over the years. Samuel had been a good
friend and comforter when Levi’s wife had died, and he, raising Hannah on his
own, had made Samuel her godfather.

Levi was a good doctor, a good father, and a good man. He had
a small practice, kept to himself, always offering a smile and working tirelessly.
He never let anyone go without his services, even if they couldn’t afford to
pay. But today he appeared solemn. Dressed in a plaid shirt and a gray suit, he
wore wire-rimmed, round glasses mid-way up his nose. His ever present bushy
mustache was all white as was his hair. Receding from his forehead, it was
prickly and short. The front of his neck, right under his chin, sagged and
jiggled slightly when he spoke.

 Samuel was the first Editor-in-Chief of the Dead Sea Scrolls
Translation Committee. Not giving his complete attention to his friend, he
thought of how this situation might help him. He reveled in the spotlight his
position had given him. It was a big undertaking he had been put in charge of,
and a very prominent appointment. He would surely go down in history. It was
probably why Levi sat in front of him today, he told himself. Everyone would
soon realize how important he was.

Both men were short in stature. Levi’s thin frame contrasted
with Samuel Yeoman’s stout physique. And that made Samuel feel like much more
of a man. But no matter, Levi was a dear and good friend and he needed his
help.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t speak with you before now,” Samuel said.
“But as you know, one of our interpreters was killed last Saturday. It was a terrible,
tragic accident.”

“Oh no, my good friend, it’s fine. I quite understand. It’s
just that it was quite embarrassing. Honestly. I didn’t know what to do. I
thought perhaps you could help me.” He found a handkerchief in his pants pocket
and wiped the sweat off his forehead, blew his nose on it, and placed it back
in his pocket.

“He
doesn’t know a thing about her,” Levi said. “He doesn’t know her. He’s so much
older than Hannah. And he’s been engaged to another girl almost a year.” He pushed
his glasses up on his nose, sat back in his seat and, speaking with closed
eyes, he said, “They are to be married this spring. The boy, Benjamin and this
girl. Such a nice girl, too. But Hannah sees him with her and she sets off in a
rage. She knocks over crates of food and makes a scene the likes of which I’m
sure no one has ever witnessed before.”

He
rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and put his forehead in the palm of
his hands. “And then of course this girl, the girl to marry Benjamin, her heart
broken, she’s wondering if perhaps she has fallen in love with a Lothario. Her
father came to me to find out how long Benjamin and Hannah had been engaged.
And I . . .” he said leaning forward in his chair and looking directly at
Samuel. “I had to explain. To tell him that she didn’t even know the boy. I had
to apologize to him. To the girl. To everyone on the street who saw it.” He
lowered his head. “I had thought of sending her away. But I fear if she goes
somewhere that is unfamiliar to her she may not do well. I have spoken to her teachers
and they will let her finish the work for this semester when she feeling up to
it. I always wanted her to be self-sufficient. I don’t think she has what it
takes to be a wife or mother. She does have enough work finished that she can
graduate. I’d planned that she would attend the University in the fall, but . .
.”

“Don’t
worry, Levi. Women are prone to such outbursts.” Samuel tried to ease Levi’s
mood. “I will help you. What are friends for?” Samuel said, getting up and
walking around the desk. He patted Levi on his back. “Come now.” Levi rose from
the chair. “Let me take care of this for you. Bring her in tomorrow. Bright and
early. I will find something here for her to do. I’ll keep her busy enough and
in no time she’ll have forgotten about the boy. All this will blow over. She
can start her education next fall. Let me take care of it.”

Dr. Samuel Yeoman sat back down at his desk after seeing Levi
Abelson to the door and thought how fortuitous his meeting had been. Although
he had written in his journal that he would check the other manuscripts to make
sure there were no more like what Dr. Sabir had found, he hadn’t yet. And he
needed to put those that Dr. Sabir had given him back into the cave at Qumran.
But the task, and the cave, was just too much for him to tackle alone.

Samuel Yeoman thought about that fateful night. October 22. It
seemed like more than just eight days ago when he had come in to check on
things and found Amos Sabir waiting outside his office door. His initial
thoughts when he saw him were that there had been a revelation. A breakthrough.
Dr. Sabir, perhaps had found something. Found something that he could take
credit for and use to exalt himself even higher up the ladder, and perhaps make
him famous. But he soon learned that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

The thought of him, of that man, even though he was dead and
gone, made him sick to his stomach. Maybe if he hadn’t stopped to speak with
one of the other translators, he would have missed Dr. Sabir and never have known
about the manuscripts he had with him that night. But it was not to be.

And even though God took action against Amos Sabir, sending
that single lightning bolt that took Sabir’s life, it still left him to deal
with what that man had found in those manuscripts.

Those manuscripts that claimed man was from Mars. That he was
responsible for mankind’s continuation by moving him to this planet when he had
destroyed his home. It was all poppycock, and he would have no part of it.

He had wrestled with himself whether to destroy the
manuscripts. He had taken an oath to preserve history, and the thought of
obliterating a part of it didn’t sit well with him. Instead, he decided he
would put them back. Back in the cave. He hadn’t quite figured out how he would
do it until now. Yes, he thought, rubbing his large, round belly, God again had
intervened, and he would have help. He wouldn’t have to go it alone. Hannah
Abelson would be his redemption.

He would hire her. It wouldn’t be unusual for him to hire his
friend’s daughter. After all, she was fragile, people would sympathize with her
plight. He would look philanthropic for taking her in. It was decided, he gave
a nod, she would help him go through the remaining manuscripts to see if there
were any other ones like the ones that Dr. Sabir had found, and then he would
have her put them back in the cave. If anything bad came from it he could blame
it on her. He would do whatever it took, and he knew that God would help him to
do it.