No answer. He looked through the peephole. No one.
Unless the bell ringer was two feet tall.
“Anyone there?” he called again.
Silence answered.
Slowly, gun at the ready, he opened the door. There was no one, nothing. Not even a package.
He couldn’t be sure the someone who’d hit the doorbell wasn’t hiding around the corner or behind the car. The someone who might be trying to frighten them. Or more.
And then he heard giggling, followed by scuffling feet hitting the ground.
Kids. It had just been kids. Had they seen his gun? He hoped not. He could picture it now, them rushing home to tell their parents, make him out to be the neighborhood pariah.
He tucked his weapon in his waistband before returning to the kitchen. “I’d forgotten it’s Saturday. Kids playing their games.”
“That’ll be Jay’s boys from next door. Always trying to get attention.”
“What they need is a little discipline.” He lifted a forkful of cold omelet. “They may have seen my gun.”
“I hope not. Jay’s rabidly anti-everything.”
“Including discipline.”
Meira grinned. “Including.”
“I’m not sure we ought to stay here, not as jumpy as we are—as I am.” He sipped his coffee and topped it off with some from the pot to warm it up.
“Where do you plan on us going? You’ve still got to go to work on Monday.”
“A motel. I’ll make a few calls.”
16
Meira
1983
The baby went down for a nap, and she began packing. Pulling things from drawers and fitting them into suitcases kept her hands busy, involving the automatic part of her brain. With the rest, she could cogitate about the something that had been bothering her during the night.
“David,” she called quietly.
Toothbrush in hand, David poked his head out the bathroom door.
“I’ve been thinking.”
He held up the brush. “Just a sec.”
When he’d finished, he came in and sat next to the open suitcase. “Thinking about what?”
“How many people could actually be interested in me enough to come here? It’s not like I’m actively working against them.” She folded underwear and stuck it in between her shirts. “I can’t see it. If the only motive is revenge, I can’t imagine more than one person, that cousin, wanting it—unless the bomber had a huge family with a lot of money and nothing else to do. What would their motivation be to come all this way just for me when there’s all of Israel to be attacked? Boredom?”
“Good question.”
“Let’s say the cousin and maybe a few others are furious that their brave fellow is dead. But he was killed years ago, so why now? And if my name were merely one of many on a list, why wouldn’t they wait until I returned to Israel? How would they/he know my married name? How would he get into the States, much less come up with the resources to pay for a trip here?”
“I don’t have an answer to that, but Eli seems to be worried about it enough to have warned us. He also thinks he was followed.”
She stopped folding and stared at her husband. “David.”
He must have heard something in the tone of her voice. He reached for her free hand. “Hmm?”
“What if Eli told us this only to frighten us so we’d go along with his plan?”
“You mean there may not be anyone after you? There may not have been a note with your name on it?”
It made sense. “I’m not worth the money or the time.”
“Devil’s advocate here. What if you represent something to this cousin and his cohorts? You got in their way. If they take you out, they make a statement. ‘Look at us, we’re mighty enough to finagle a visa and pluck the enemy right out of her safe little home in America.’ You know Hezbollah and the Iranians calls us the Great Satan and Israel the Little Satan.”
“But these guys aren’t Hezbollah.” And she wasn’t any kind of satan.
“We don’t know how they see the U.S. We know they hate Israel, and America has stood on the side of Israel, which makes us their enemy. Eli said Fatah and PFLP have moved into Lebanon, making it a base for attacks over the border. I’d hate to imagine Eli, and by extension my uncle and your father, making up something just to get us involved in some scheme.”
He was right. Of course, he was right. She sat down on his other side. “They wouldn’t.” She sighed. “But I’d much rather think about a wily Eli than about terrorists sneaking around Virginia trying to grab us.”
“They may not be. You could be absolutely right, especially when you suggest that the resources needed to come after you would be substantial.”
She smiled at him. “You think so?”
“I do. But, just in case we’re wrong, we need to go to a motel and wait this out. It shouldn’t take long once Eli’s people get involved. I’ll give him a call and let him know our plans.”
Maybe Eli would come through right away and maybe he wouldn’t. She dreaded the idea of spending her days in a cramped room with a baby while David went to work. “You’d better find a place near a restaurant. I don’t want to be stuck alone without a kitchen or a way to feed us.”
He looked surprised by that thought. “What a fool I am. I never considered what this would be like for you with a baby. Forget my job. I won’t be going to work until we can move back into our house safely.”
If they’d ever be able to.
17
Meira
She was running out of emotional space as they told their story. It was time to cull out the junk crammed into her brain and get down to the bits worth keeping. But how was she supposed to determine which those were?
There was no how-to manual for spies who came out of the cold and spilled all to their son. No automatic pass that says tell the story and everyone will be happy in the end. She felt wrung out. Stretched to breaking. Tony’s sulks as they talked about the episode in Virginia had just about worn her out. Instead of sending him to bed for a three-day nap, she’d like to crawl into her own and have David come get her when it was all over.
Coward.
Yes. She’d raise her hand and admit it.
Tony drew his right foot to his knee and retied his well-tied laces before repeating the process with his left. Next, he wiggled back into a couch pillow, never looking up at them.
“You okay?” His father asked. She wished he’d ask her.
Tony’s shrug, which used his shoulders and his face, stole even more of her emotional space. “Why do you guys keep quitting the story?” he asked.
“It’s hard to tell all at once,” she admitted. “It was a very emotional time.”
“Yeah, but it was so long ago. And you lived, so what’s the big deal?”
Teenage indifference coupled with anger? Where was her sign-out-of-school sheet?
“Fine,” she said and began talking.
1983
Main Street boasted a post office, a hardware store, a small grocery, two B&Bs, and a fish market with a pier where all the local fishermen unloaded their catch. Behind Main Street were smaller roads where most of the locals lived and one that meandered out of town along the river.
David and Meira’s house was about a mile out of town along the river road, not prime real estate, but quaint. Their nearest neighbor, Jay, lived with his wife, Cherry, and four boys in a house that had been added onto through the years by people who forgot to consult an architect. A hedge, through which Jay’s children liked to wiggle on a regular basis, separated the driveways and back yards. Meira found it interesting that those children were never referred to as his wife’s, as if Cherry didn’t have anything to do with raising or disciplining them. Which may have been the absolute truth.
On the other side of their property, a row of weeping willows gave a visual separation to a lot with only the charred foundation of a house and a barn crammed with various fishing boats.
/> Meira checked the rooms to see if she’d forgotten anything. While David loaded their car, she collected supplies for the baby, along with some food she could keep in a motel room.
“Jay must have taken the boys somewhere,” David said as he picked up Tony and his diaper bag, “or set them in front of the television. Either way, I’m grateful I didn’t see anyone. If no one knows we’ve gone, no one can talk.”
He settled them in the backseat, climbed behind the wheel, and started the car. As he backed out of the driveway and headed toward the village, he said, “I’m going to stop at the market to pick up some ice for the cooler.”
Meira waited with Tony on her lap in the back seat. He was fascinated by the sights outside the window and pressed his nose up close to watch the comings and goings while his daddy went in search of ice.
Exhausted, she closed her eyes, only opening them when Tony patted her cheeks to draw her attention back to him. She laughed and kissed the tip of his nose. That seemed to satisfy him, because he turned again to look out. She followed his gaze.
And saw Abreeq, the bomber’s cousin, whose name meant glittering sword. He seemed to be asking directions from, of all people, Cherry. Her next-door neighbor. Cherry pointed down the road and waved, as if to indicate that the road continued on out of town. On toward Cherry’s house. On toward Meira’s.
Cherry didn’t look toward the street or at their car or seem to pay attention to anything that wasn’t right in front of her. Like the attractive Arab.
Who’d come all this way, all this very long way, to take out her and hers.
Meira titled sideways so her head wasn’t visible through the window. Abreeq wouldn’t recognize her baby, and she’d be surprised if Cherry knew what Tony looked like.
But Abreeq would recognize David. Meira willed her husband to stay in the store a little longer and even whispered a prayer that he and they would remain hidden.
When David opened the car door next to the cooler to fill it with ice, she sat up and stuttered, “He’s here.” She glanced around. Both Abreeq and Cherry were gone.
“What?” David asked.
“Abreeq. I saw him.”
David dropped the ice into the cooler and climbed in the front. “Where?” he asked as he turned the ignition key.
“He was talking to Jay’s wife. I imagine he’s on his way to our house now.”
“Where can I leave you and Tony?”
“David, no. Call Eli. Call the police. You can’t go there. We’ll just leave.”
He turned around in his seat. “If we leave, there's no guarantee he’ll be caught and locked up. Say a deputy goes to the house, confronts him, and he runs. Or he shoots the deputy, who probably won’t be expecting a mad Arab with nothing to lose, even if we could warn the sheriff. It’s not like they have any experience with crazies of this magnitude in rural Virginia. And if Abreeq gets away, we’ll have to keep running and looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. I can’t let that happen.”
“Then drive us to Miss Emma’s house. If she’s home, she’ll take Tony. I’ll go with you. Two guns are better than one. And you know I shoot as well as you do.”
“And probably better than the locals.”
Miss Emma lived on a back street in a small clapboard house, supplementing her Social Security payments by helping out where she could, including babysitting and housecleaning. Meira liked and trusted her.
When they pulled up to her house and saw her car in the driveway, Meira realized just how tightly she’d been clenching her teeth. Without Miss Emma, she’d have no one she could call on. “She’s here.”
“Come on. We’ll ask to use her phone, too.”
The older lady seemed happy to see them. “You leave that sweet lamb right here with me. The phone’s in there, Mr. David,” she said, pointing to the kitchen.
When they were ready to leave, David said, “We’ll be back as soon as we can.” He handed her a scribbled note with Eli’s name. “Here’s an emergency contact.”
“Tony’s teething,” Meira said, “but I think he’ll be okay.”
“If he gets fussy, I know what to do,” Miss Emma said. “Don’t you worry.”
Meira hugged her baby as close to her as she could without scaring him. “Be a good boy for Miss Emma. We’ll see you soon.”
Adonai, please, make it so. Help us. Protect us.
Back in the car, David took her hand. “Eli told me just to keep an eye on the man and his car, but on no account to play the hero. He’s calling for help.”
“Is that what we’re going to do?”
“If possible, yes.” He opened the glove compartment and removed his weapon. “Yours?”
“In my bag in the back.”
“Get it now. We need to be ready.”
A car she didn’t recognize sat in front of the boat barn on their neighbor’s property. David drove slowly past their house.
“No one,” she said. “Do you think he got inside?”
“Probably. I’m going to park. We’ll head back on foot.”
“Do you think that’s wise? He’s probably armed, too.”
“If we go in the back way and hide behind the boat barn, we should have a decent view of our place.” He turned around and headed back in the direction of town. “You get down out of sight. I’m going to pull off in that picnic area in the woods.”
“I guess anywhere else would be too conspicuous.” She scooted low in the seat and folded herself toward David. “Good thing I’m tiny enough to do this.”
He rested one hand on her head. “Tiny is perfect.”
Tires crunched on gravel, and she knew they’d turned into the picnic area. She sat up. There were only two tables, a portable toilet, and a water fountain, but it was shaded by trees on three sides. A nice breeze usually blew off the water, making it a popular place for picnickers who didn’t have their own waterfront property.
“I need to put on another shirt to hide my gun,” she said.
David opened the trunk, moved Tony’s case to get to hers, and opened it for her. She dug around until she found a long-sleeved work shirt.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’m fine, but get a hat. Mine’s in the back seat.”
“I’m not sure I packed one.”
“You always have a hat of some sort.”
“I was in a hurry.”
He unloaded bags until he could get to his toolbox from which he pulled out his oldest ball cap. He put it on and then retrieved the broad-brimmed crushable hat she’d bought him for fishing. It dwarfed her head, but at least she’d be harder to recognize.
David led them along the edge of the woods until they came to a curve in the road and the open field of their neighbor’s half-acre. There was no sign of any activity as they sauntered across it, camouflaged, they hoped, by their hats and the unexpectedness of their route.
The car was still parked in front of the barn. “Quiet now,” David said as he crept toward the row of weeping willows.
They crouched low under the ground-sweeping branches and waited, listening. They couldn’t see into the house. The only windows at the end of the house were the high bathroom window and one in their bedroom.
“I wonder if Eli managed to get through to anyone.” Meira kept her voice just above a whisper.
Would the sheriff or FBI believe him? How long would it take the communications to go from him to Israel and back?
A back door slammed in the distance and boys’ voices called to each other. She prayed they’d stay in their own yard. A ball thumped on the neighbor’s driveway and then slammed against their garage. Maybe basketball would keep them occupied, and they wouldn’t try to play any more pranks. She didn’t want them anywhere near Abreeq.
“I’m going to try to get behind the shed,” David said. “I need a better view of the back yard.”
“I’ll cover you,” she said. “Just be careful.”
He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.
“Keep alert. If he comes out the front and heads toward his car, you’ll be exposed here.”
18
David
1983
He’d never thought of himself as a warrior, mostly because he’d never had to be, not even in the Navy. Yes, he’d been trained, but that had been all. And although he’d been called on to protect Meira back in the day, he’d never had to wield a loaded gun in the direction of real people. Real villains.
Good thing they’d practiced shooting at paper people and cardboard targets. Maybe his steady hand from the practice range wouldn’t translate to a perfectly steady aim when he confronted a breathing human, but all that practice had been for just-in-case. And their just-in-case had come. They were in a battle against a murderous terrorist gunning for David’s family.
He kept low as he crossed the yard. Low and, he hoped, invisible. The closer he got to the shed, the louder those kids’ voices sounded.
Boredom got kids like that into mischief, and they loved using his house as one of their mischief-making playgrounds along with another neighbor’s trailered runabout, which they’d festooned with toilet paper streamers one night. The owner had been livid, his language not something those boys should have had to hear.
And yet, hadn’t David wanted to see their hides tanned a few times? Meira said they needed their parents’ attention. Maybe. And maybe they needed a good spanking along with lessons in manners and a few rules.
David bent low at the side of the shed and then eased to its corner, scanning the back porch and as much of the driveway and hedge as he could see. He checked his gun and watched the house. Surely, if someone were in there, David would eventually see movement.
He thought of his namesake, the David of the Psalms, who’d written in the twenty-seventh psalm, “Adonai is my light and my salvation—whom do I need to fear? Adonai is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?”
He’d try to hang on to that, the words of an imperfect king who had gone against giants when he was just a boy. Perhaps he, a present-day and just-as-imperfect David, could go against this enemy and win.
From Fire Into Fire Page 9