Operation Bethany goes back in time, five days before the crucifixion where a woman had approached Jesus at a feast organised in the hillside village of Bethany and anointed him with spikenards oil in the presence of guests and his disciples.
More than two thousand years later Sergio, a scientist stumbles on ancient Egyptian myth that tells of a rare ability and power in this oil used on Jesus. Then he hears that a time machine has been built by a physicist and commits murder. He retrieves the machine and in six days, plans to time travel to the past with a killer, to this night in Bethany and hunt down this woman before she gets the chance to waste the oil on Jesus.
Then, he will murder everyone at the feast.
Only a news journalist and an escaped catholic nun race against time to avert the unthinkable eventuality. Who lives and who dies? It's both a Thriller novel and a Suspense novel
Tuesday, March 9,
4:50pm
Seat of Wisdom Priory, Sonoma
Fernando Trent packed his red 1980 model sedan
car in front of the gates of the Priory and stepped out. He was still wearing
the same cloths he wore in the morning but was now dangling a massive silver
chain that Luke called a fake.
Twenty six years ago, his father; a Spanish
man aged thirty had spent a night in bed with an American college student.
Seven months six weeks later, Fernando had been born. Although Abelardo never
married Lucy, he still found ways to become involved in his son’s life. He had
been the one who called him Fernando but Lucy had registered him with her last
name Trent New Jersey
The mass was scheduled to start at five and it
was now almost five thirty. Luke wasn’t here yet. Had he changed his mind? Luke
has been late on previous engagements and so Fernando didn’t want to give up
just yet. He looked down the dirt hill road and saw nothing. He’ll just have to
wait it out and hope they don’t miss anything important inside for this story.
The detectives surely would wait until mass was said before spilling the beans.
Something quickly caught his eye down the road. A vehicle was coming. It took
Fernando a few more minutes to realise it was a taxi cab. If that was Luke what
had happened to his car?
It was Luke alright. He jumped out and paid
the cabbie. The old man did a quick U turn and tore back down the road. Luke
and Fernando disappeared briefly into a cloud of dust “What the fuck!” Fernando
yelled then coughed raucously.
Luke emerged from the dust coughing but
laughing instead.
“You’re a sick old man!” Fernando shouted
after the fast disappearing cab.
Luke dusted down his jacket which he had been
slung over an arm before putting it on.
“Where is your car?” Fernando asked
“Engine fault. I was lucky it got back Sonoma
Fernando opened the trunk and began putting
battery and tape in a small cam coder.
“Is that going to be allowed inside the
Priory?”
“This is a Christian place. I don’t think
there will be armed security personnel at the door.”
“You may be surprised”
Fernando ignored the blasphemy “Besides I’m
the professional here. I know how to sneak into places with stuffs like this”.
Luke felt like doing a counter but decided to
move on. “Eartha took her time in tearing up the report”
“What!” Fernando paused briefly in what he was
doing.
“Yeah” Luke said resignedly.
“All of it?” Fernando asked; genuinely
surprised.
“No. Not really”
“What part wasn’t right?”
Luke hated to admit this “My part”
“Good”
“What?”
“I said ‘good’ At least I’m getting my part
right”
“And what would you mean by that?” Luke didn’t
like this joke if it was a joke.
“You’re not getting yours right atleast that’s
what she said”
“So you’re gonna make fun of me, then?” a
slight irritation had crept into his tone
Fernando backed off “No one is making fun of you
Luke, and why is your temper so frail these days? Where is your damn sense of
humour?
Luke wasn’t fooled “You weren’t kicking up any
humour back there”
“Ok sorry she tore up the report, we’ll do a
better one next time, does that make you feel better?”
“Yes”
Fernando began walking up into the compound
“Aren’t we driving up to the chapel?” Luke
asked
“I’m not sure we can”
“We are already late, Fernando. If they made
today open to the public then cars should be allowed up”
“Oh, Luke let’s just walk.” Fernando pleaded.
“I like to see the gardens”
***
The priory was home to Carmelite nuns. The
monastery sat on the shoulder of a massive hill east of the county. It was an
eerily quiet place, shut away from the bustle of the main county. Luke stared
down at low cut immaculate lawn that stretched like an endless sea of green,
dipping over the curved landscape and disappearing from sight. The walls of the
monastery were made of beautifully cut brown stones with high tile roofs that
had windows in them.
The brown monotony of the wall was broken with white
washed window sills that stretched in a persistent line. There were also the
creamy white doors. It was a very large compound with high imposing walls made
of the same brown cut stone materials held together by concrete. Luke stared
about him with sudden trepidation as images came flashing back hard; the years
in the orphanage; the flames that gutted it; the dark rain drenched night that
Angela had died; the thunderstorm; Angela’s wasted face. She had been burning
under the fever and was so weak she could barely say a word, shivering weakly
as death closed in. She had lost so much weight, her body wasted on the bed.
Her skin was pale grey with lips bloodied with dark cracks. Her neck was swollen
following her enlarged lymph nodes. The doctor said her liver and spleen too
were enlarged. Her hair had thinned; lost like she had cancer. She hadn’t even
been able to cry as the mere act of just breathing brought immeasurable pain.
Her lips were all that moved inaudibly in prayer.
The visions flooded Luke’s senses;
overwhelming him...
Fernando paused in mid stride. Luke didn’t
seem to be following. He turned and what he saw flung fear into him. Luke had
collapsed on his hands and knees in the field and seemed to be struggling to
breathe; his mouth was open and gasping, his face contorted in pain. He raised
a hand and felt about blindly for support. Fernando raced back to him all the
while shouting his name. They were still a long way off from the chapel; help
could come from no where now. Luke felt Fernando’s hand and gripped it tight.
“Luke!” Fernando yelled “Luke, what’s wrong?”
Luke took in huge gulps of air while Fernando
helped him out of his coat and sat him on the lawn. There was still no one in
sight. Luke looked like he may need to be carried back to the car. It was this
place, Fernando could tell. Luke had tried to warn him but he didn’t know it
was this serious. This has gone beyond just hating; Luke was being affected
psychologically.
Luke sat panting weakly on the lawn. The
images had begun to recede. Like a bitter irony, he found himself drawing
strength from the tranquility of this place; the very place that had triggered
this attack. It calmed the tortuous roar in his head. After a few minutes, the
terrible waves stirred within began to abate. Fernando let Luke take his time.
Luke retrieved a handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from his face and then
very unsteadily lifted himself on his feet with the help of Fernando.
“We should go home” Fernando said.
“No”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Luke shook his head again “No”
But for the first time, Luke had seemed like
he would crack. Fernando could see genuine fear in his friend’s eyes; Luke was
scared. What was it? He kept staring away and Fernando knew that for a fraction
of a second back there, he had wanted to tell. But like the dark shadow of a
rain cloud that blotted away sunlight, a cold look of renewed determination had
settled over his features and erased the fear and pain. Luke turned back to
Fernando looking like nothing had happened.
Fernando would not be fooled “Luke, you have
to let this out. You can’t go on hiding this... whatever it is anymore. It’s
killing you, Luke. Talk to somebody, anybody. Talk to me.”
Luke moved away
“Luke please-”
He was searching for something. Fernando
realised it must be his jacket which was still lying on the grass. He reached
down and picked it up for him. Luke took the coat and put it on. He looked at
the Priory buildings in the distance and his eyes narrowed as he seemed to take
a decision. Then he moved on in the direction of the Priory. Fernando raced
ahead and blocked his path.
“Luke, I get your point but we don’t have to
do this. We could skip this part of the story and move on to other angles. You
obviously don’t like this place. It’s having some sort of psychological
backfire on you”
Luke ignored him; sidestepped and continued up
the slope.
Fernando caught up with him again. “Can we
atleast talk about this?”
“No, we don’t”
“Luke, you’re not fine and you know it. You
were under some attack back there. You almost gave me a fucking heart attack.”
Luke stopped suddenly and smiled “I’m fine
Fernando and please stop fretting like a nanny”
“You’ve merely buried it. It would resurface
again”
“You’re talking nonsense, Fernando”
Fernando will not give up easily “Someday,
you’ll have to let it out Luke. Someday you will”
“Oh, shut up Fernando”
***
The Priory was founded by Cardinal Josse
Lorengo in the late eighteenth century. Several major constructions have been
carried over the years to keep the ancient walls standing. It was surrounded by
an Oakwood forest. Luke could envision what an Ariel shot would look like: civilisation
in the middle of no where; the Priory’s deep brown coloured roof striking
weakly against the setting sun. As Luke and Fernando approached, they could see
oval shaped pillars running the entire length of the front of the monastery
painted soft brown and a small disc shaped fountain; decked with blue and white
tiles sprouted water from what looked like a large communion cup. Right now
they were walking on baked clay interlocking stones that covered the immediate
grounds around the priory buildings. It stretched out for about two metres; the
floor clean and smooth and bare.
Luke fought persistently to keep his mind
under control. He knew he had to be able to detach his pain and other feelings
from his work. He had work to do here. He would not leave until he’d done just
that.
Luke and Fernando knew that to do any filming
here, they would need to get express permission first; one that would most
defiantly not be given. This was a cloister and wielding a camera about here
was like invasion of privacy. Fernando therefore planned to secretly use the
camcorder but Luke would not be able to do a standupper which would have been
so perfect.
At the chapel door, Fernando observed that
Luke had hesitated for a heart beat before walking in cautiously. As expected,
they were coming in very late; the homily had just been rounded up. They both
took back seats and watched quietly as the mass steadily progressed. Luke
couldn’t see the Nuns but guessed they were the ones singing from somewhere
behind the large grills that marked the west walls of the Alter. The alter area
was squeaky clean and made of deep brown mahogany wood. The oil polishes on it
shone under the soft alter lights. Luke also noticed something was wrong with
the singing from the choir; like several notes striking off in discord. Back
then at the orphanage, Luke had been in the choir; a solid soprano then tenor
before it broke with puberty. Luke’s voice never remained the same. He had
practically croaked for months before emerging with the deep baritone. But just
like the rest of his other childhood memories, Luke had wiped clean that plate
in his life. Without Angela, it was too painful to remember
