"I don't want to believe it, but we received information saying that you were the one who murdered your wife." Detective Baker sat opposite him on the edge of the table and spoke. Jakub wanted to laugh because it seemed too much like a movie scene for him to take it seriously.
"Is something funny?"
"No..." He must have let a smile slip. "Wait, yes. I think it's fucking hilarious that you're here interrogating me about killing my wife when you're supposed to be out there, finding the bastards who did." Jakub hated losing his temper. He hardly ever did, but he was too pissed off to think straight. "You received information? From who? They're the ones you should be looking at. I was at home! With my children. They took my wife, and they...they...and you're here. Find them. You better find them."
He was on his feet at this point, staring menacingly at the detective who just looked at him without any emotions.
Jakub blushed, embarrassed, and sat back down. "I'm sorry...I—"
"It's okay, Mr. Stilinski. I'd be pretty pissed, too, if I were you." There was a pause, and Jakub could feel eyes on him. "I'll tell you something. I don't think you killed your wife, and if you did, you deserve an Oscar. But you should know, some people do, and they are taking this to court."
"What?" Jakub exclaimed and was on his feet.
"Yeah. The case will be in court while our investigations are ongoing."
"Is that even allowed?"
"Apparently. I was asked to take the lead in the investigation for the state, and I will be watching you closely until the case is over and we discover the truth."
Jakub spaced out again. Everything else Detective Baker said sounded like a murmur. His whole world was falling apart, and it was falling apart way too quickly. She was supposed to be buried the Muslim way, but they refused to release her body, and that was something frustrating on its own. He was thinking about what he would tell her parents and what he would do with their children.
The detective was sympathetic and helped him leave the station, instructing an officer to follow him in a cop car in case he tried anything. In his experience, this was the time most people decided to kill themselves, and he couldn't afford to have that on his hands.
Jakub had snapped out of his momentary lapse and was irritated that Detective Baker had put a tail on him. But that seemed like nothing in light of how his life was going at that moment.
_____
Two weeks later, the case started. He was to appear in court and have fingers pointed at him, accusing him of cold-blooded rape and the murder of his wife. Jakub was no fool; he knew he was being set up, and no one was offering any explanations about who it was exactly that instigated the case. His lawyer was competent enough, but he seemed to be lost as well.
He decided that trusting the law or following due protocol would not help in any way.
Sofia's parents decided to stay longer and finally moved into their house. Sofia's mom kept complaining that Gaza was too hot, and her husband agreed, also adding that the justice system was too corrupt. They had warmed up to him later, sure that he couldn't have killed their daughter.
His first court appearance was harsh. Some people outside the courthouse shouted all sorts of slurs at him; most of them were women. His lawyer warned him not to check for articles, but he couldn't help himself. The stories he found were twisted and insane. One blog said that he made his children watch and then told them to lie about what happened. Another said he hired men to do that to his wife because he had a mistress. Why did there always have to be something about a mistress?
The court session took four hours with breaks, and it was the most exhausting and heart-wrenching experience that he had ever had, and as soon as it was over, he dashed out of the courthouse.
Jakub had decided that it was best for his family if he stayed in a motel until the whole thing was over. He did not want anyone spying on his children. He already hired two bodyguards to watch the house while he was away.
As he walked to his car, he was hounded by journalists shoving microphones at his face and asking different kinds of intrusive questions. He ignored all of them and entered his car, driving off immediately. It was almost dark, and he was starving.
He had become something of a celebrity in the city, so he changed into a hoodie in his car and used sunglasses before getting down to enter a restaurant and order food. He would have ordered food at the motel, but it was overpriced and underwhelming. Luckily, no one seemed to pay him any mind, and he was able to get his food and drive to the motel.
The night was muggy and warm, it was uncomfortable, and something did not feel quite right with him as he reached the motel. He got down from his car and walked to his room, looking around himself constantly. Some cars weren't there in the morning, but he assumed that it was just more visitors.
Jakub reached the door and found it slightly open. He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out the switchblade he had purchased after Sofia died. He thought to himself that he should have hired another bodyguard for himself.
"Come in, Jakub. We have a lot to discuss," a voice called out to him from inside the room. He pushed the door open and saw three men in the small room. One was seated on the bed, and the other two stood behind him, looking incredibly dangerous.
"My name is Ahmed. Sit down, please."
Something told Jakub not to try anything stupid, so he grabbed the only chair in the room and sat slowly.
Chapter Three
Gaza Strip
April 2014
"I'll bet you're wondering why we're here," Ahmed said in a thick accent, stating the obvious. Jakub looked at the two huge men standing on either side of Ahmed.
"I..."
"It's alright, Mr. Stilinski. What we want is not a big deal. You see, we are representatives of a very important organization. This organization found out that you have acquired some...documents that are incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands, and it is imperative that you give them to me."
Jakub's head started spinning. He had no idea what they were talking about. He thought they were here to kill him because they suspected him of killing his wife or something. They called themselves an important organization. Suddenly, he gasped under his breath, remembering that Sofia had mentioned Hamas right before she died.
"I don't...I don't—"
"We know you did not kill your lovely wife, Jakub. At first, we thought she had those documents, and well...we were wrong, and things got out of hand." Ahmed chuckled a little, and realization dawned on Jakub.
"You...killed her..." he muttered under his breath and looked up, his eyes brimming with tears. "You killed her!"
He launched himself toward them but got punched immediately by the huge man on Ahmed's right. Jakub felt his nose break as he stumbled back into his seat.
"That was a poor choice of action, Jakub," Ahmed said and stood up.
Jakub held his bloody nose, looking up at them.
"Five years ago, you received some documents. We have searched profusely for these documents to no avail. We know you have them. Give them to us, and the only thing you'll have to worry about is your dead wife's funeral arrangements. Otherwise, you might be joining her soon."
"Screw you," Jakub said and spat at his feet.
Ahmed chuckled and leaned closer to him. "Don't be stubborn. Think about your kids, Hassan and little Reina. Do you want them to end up like their mommy?"
Jakub glared at him hard, but Ahmed just laughed again, then tapped his shoulder and stood up straight.
"I know you will make the right decision, Mr. Stilinski, and we'll be watching you. So, when you make your decision, whatever it is, we will contact you."
Jakub watched helplessly as they left his tiny motel room. He sat perfectly still, barely thinking as he heard a car start and drive off. When they were gone, he started to sob.
_____
The next day, Jakub did not hesitate to start his search. He was not one to be easily intimidated, and he knew there was a lot at ri
sk, but he wanted to know exactly who and what he was dealing with. So, he started doing some research.
The first thing he did was go to his shop for the first time since the whole incident, and he was devastated at the sight. It was not just his shop that was hit, but it was obvious that his took the most damage, and he had a vague idea why that was.
"Mr. Stilinski! Good morning," a loud woman's voice called out to him.
He groaned under his breath and turned to face Mrs. Awad, the owner of the pastry store next to his. "Salam, Mrs. Awad."
"Oh my, you look awful. How have you been? All of us on this block have been trying to get across to you. It's horrible what happened, and to come back to this...you must feel awful."
Jakub forced himself not to roll his eyes. Her “trying to get across” was leaving one phone call and never calling again. He was never one for chitchat with the other store owners, and he was aware that he was not very well-liked, but he was a businessman, and that's all he really cared about apart from his family.
"Thank you, Mrs. Awad. Do you know what happened?"
"No...we locked up yesterday, and everything was fine..." She paused and eyed him. "Some are saying they came to attack you because of the...murder. They said we were just collateral damage, although it's obvious you were more hit than us...but I told them to stop. It was awful of them to say that."
"How sweet of you," Jakub muttered and stepped into his shop through the now-broken-down glass door. The inside was even worse. Whoever attacked was definitely looking for something, and he had an idea what it was.
"What happened to your nose? Oh my, it's awful in here."
Jakub heard the nosy woman step into his shop, and he was sick of hearing her say the word awful. He sighed heavily and stepped carefully around all the broken glass and shattered wood.
"I ran into a door. Can you please give me some privacy, Mrs. Awad?"
"Oh! Of course, I'm sorry. I'll leave."
Jakub sighed again and reached into his pocket, and pulled out a key. He nearly laughed because he thought about how stupid whoever came to raid his shop was. When he got those documents five years ago, he immediately put them in a safety deposit box. It was clear that they only came to meet him after they had raised his shop and couldn't find it, or maybe they did it simultaneously.
He put the key back in his pocket and headed back out of the shop, where he heard Mrs. Awad muttering with the other shop owners. He knew they were talking about him.
"Jakub! It's nice to see you again." Kamal, the only one of the people that he could actually tolerate, said to him. The man sold electronics. He had his hands in the pockets of his pants and was staring right at him.
"Kamal, yeah...terrible thing to meet again too, though..."
"Yeah. The others and I were discussing next steps."
Jakub looked at the others, who were all standing awkwardly. Mrs. Awad was grinning at him as if she had a secret she would not tell him.
"That's great. Can you please let me know what you all agree on? So we can do it together? I really have to get going."
"Oh, where are you going?" Mrs. Awad asked.
"It's...uh, court stuff." They all went silent, and the awkwardness increased until Kamal spoke.
"Oh...good luck with that. I'll definitely keep you in the loop."
"Thank you, I really appreciate it. Salam."
"Salam." They chorused in response, and Jakub walked briskly away.
_____
He knew that the longer he waited, the more dangerous it would get for him. He was currently on the no-flight list, but he could pull a couple of strings and get a private jet. It was not hard to bend the laws in Gaza. The main problem was his children; he couldn't risk them getting hurt. He would have to take them with him, which would cost extra, but he really didn't care.
When he arrived at the bank, he was delayed for a minute because of one particular attendant who obviously felt like he had killed his family. Jakub remained unperturbed and was finally allowed to access his safety deposit box. There were some rare jewels, two bars of gold, and some documents in there. He decided to take the jewels because he might not have access to his account if he ran, and he pulled out the documents.
The names of the men who sold those documents to him were written down on a piece of paper that he tucked in the sleeve of the file folder. He plucked it out and locked the safety deposit box back, then left the bank.
Jakub had already checked out of the motel because that was the obvious thing to do. As he drove, he planned to go and meet his Israeli friend, Cyrus, who was a lithographer. Although they had looked at it together before and did not gather much, he wanted to gather more information about it, find out what made it so valuable. He glanced at the paper that had the name of the men who sold the documents to him and decided to pull over.
"Alright..." he whispered as he pressed the numbers into his phone, then dialed it. It rang three times before someone picked up.
"Hello?" a woman's voice answered.
Jakub frowned, a little taken aback. "Sorry, am I speaking to Khaled?"
He heard a sharp intake of breath and a shaky sigh. There was a sudden bad feeling in his chest that he could not shake.
"Who is this?"
"I'm...Fred. I had some business with Khaled. Can I speak with him, please?" Jakub said, annoyed at the name he picked, but he could not risk saying his real name.
"Khaled...died. He and his friend got into a horrible accident early yesterday, and they didn't make it..."
Somehow, Jakub knew. It did not come as a surprise to him, but it really began to dawn on him that he was dealing with some incredibly dangerous people. He realized he had paused excessively and quickly spoke.
"I-I don't know what to say...I'm so sorry for your loss," he offered, but the lady just scoffed.
"Thanks."
"I'm sorry, but by any chance...is his friend's name Jibril?"
There was another pause, and Jakub guessed that he was right even before she answered, so he quickly added, "I've been trying to get in contact with them both. The three of us did business together and—"
"It's alright. Yes, he and Jibril were in the accident and they...died."
"I'm sorry again."
"Okay."
The lady hung up before Jakub could say anything else, so he just sat, slumped over in his car, thinking of what he could do. It was only a matter of time before they came to meet him and killed him as well. He grabbed the documents again and eyed them, wondering what was so important about them that the Hamas would kill for. Sofia had been Palestinian, and they killed her anyway. Normally, the court would not have batted an eye in their direction, but they had made the case gain worldwide recognition all because of the documents. It fascinated him and scared him at the same time.
His escape from Gaza was pressing on his mind now. He knew only one person that could get him out of there as soon as the next day, and he had a favor to call in with that person.
"God..." he whispered under his breath. He could feel his hands shaking, so he grabbed the steering wheel to calm himself. The stakes were so high, and that wasn't what scared him the most. What scared him the most was the fact that he was thinking about saving himself only at that point. Sofia would have probably sacrificed herself for the rest of them. She even hid her scars from the kids as she was dying.
Jakub decided that going to see Cyrus was too dangerous at that point. He grabbed his phone again and searched for Howard Grant's number in it. Howard was an American billionaire that he had helped acquire some rare items a while ago. It had cost him a lot, personally, so Howard owed him. He dialed the number.
The phone had a sort of weird ring, but he knew that was because of the distance. He did some quick calculations in his head, trying to guess what the time would be. Gaza was seven hours ahead, and it was 11 AM, so he would be waking the man. He could only hope that he could actually get help.
"It's four in the morning. This bett
er be important," a hoarse and grumpy voice came over the phone.
Jakub swallowed and opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"Hello? Is this a crank call? It better not be! I'm not—"
"It's Jakub," he interrupted. "Jakub Stilinski. I don't know if you remember me. I—"
"No, I remember you," Howard replied, and there was an awkward pause. "I saw the news on television. Did you kill your own wife?"
"No! Of course I did not! They're framing me and—"
"It's okay, it's okay. I believe you. Honestly, I've been trying to get hold of you."
Jakub rolled his eyes. He was tired of hearing people tell him that. To avoid any more of that line of discussion, he quickly explained what happened to him—about the documents he got five years ago, the translations that Cyrus had gotten, the deaths of the men who gave him the documents, the threats from the Hamas and how they were the ones who murdered his wife. Saying everything like that felt unreal. It was something straight out of a movie scene.
"Wow," Howard said, sounding fully awake. "Where are these documents now?"
"They are with me."
"Okay. I want to see them. We need to get you out of the city and here in America. You'll be safe here. I'll deal with the courts for you."
"My children—"
"They'll come too, of course. I'll make the arrangements now. Will you be ready by this evening?"
"Yes, I'll go get them now."
"Okay, good. I'll be in touch."
Howard hung up, and Jakub sat in his car, his heart palpitating. He tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and started his car, driving back onto the road.
_____
Jakub arrived at his own place in the evening because he went to get some supplies he felt his children might need on their trip. His in-laws were still around, so he called them to let them know he was on his way. They sounded odd but he wrote it off as grief.
Hunt for the Lost Sanctum Page 3