“Good morning,” he said. “Thought you might like something before I head out.”
“Out? Oh, right. To the police station.” She sat up carefully and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Oops. She’d forgotten she wore only one of his shirts. She glanced up and caught his grin.
“Nice legs.”
The heat of a blush suffused her cheeks as she reached for the sheet. His grin turned to a laugh. “Okay. I’ll go get Adam. Five minutes?”
Tony took a taxi to the police station, while she and Adam returned the airport rental, a little the worse for wear. Her uncle would drive them back to Jerusalem in his car.
Two hours later, Tony phoned Adam’s cell to ask that they meet him downstairs in fifteen minutes. She gathered her toothbrush, stuck it in the side of Tony’s small bag, and zipped the bag closed. As they headed down the hall toward the stairs, memories of last night’s dash to the cellar prompted her to ask how people here coped with never knowing when a rocket might have their name on it.
“Same way everyone in Israel copes,” Adam said. “By living our lives in this land HaShem—the Lord—gave us.” He took the small bag from her. “Remember what that young woman, Rachel, said last night as we came up from the shelter? I like the way she put it. ‘If we quit living, they win.’ Even without killing us, they win if we live hidden away, in terror. That’s what they want.”
“Like bullies wanting to hurt others to make themselves feel bigger.”
“Small minds, small lives, always jealous. Those are the kind who resort to violence to get their way.”
She clutched the balustrade to steady herself on the stairs. “I wish we could let the world know what’s happening here. What’s really happening. It’s not right, the way the other side does such awful things and pretends martyrdom for the cameras.”
“But that has always been the enemy’s way,” Adam said, “trying to stamp us out.”
“Why? Why do they hate Israel so?”
“Because of the promises to Israel and their ultimate fulfillment in the Messiah.”
Rachel greeted them in the lobby. “Good morning again. Tony has already checked you out. Please, though, come again?”
“Shalom, my dear,” Adam said. “May the peace of the Lord be upon you.”
“And with you both.”
“Thank you for everything,” Rina said as she followed Adam to the door.
Tony was paying off his taxi when they exited the hotel. “Good timing, my boy,” Adam called.
“Yes, sir.” He leaned in to kiss her. “How are you, love?”
“Ready to get out of here.”
“This way,” Adam said. “We’re all set. You take the front, Tony. Only way you’ll fit.” He looked over at her. “You okay in the back?”
“I’m fine.” And she was, mostly.
As they headed east toward Jerusalem, Adam glanced quickly at Tony. “Been meaning to ask. Did you happen to notice that fellow’s feet? The one you shot?”
“His cowboy boots?”
“Must fancy himself John Wayne.”
“I know him,” Tony said.
“You do, eh? Don’t think you mentioned that.”
“I saw him first in Perugia, then in Jordan.” Tony reached between the seats to touch her knee. “He gets around, this boy does. I wonder what headquarters will have on him.”
Aha, so he and his gun might have visited her that night at the convent. She mentioned that possibility and then said, “Acie and I met him in Galilee, and he gave us a lift back to Jerusalem the next day. He called himself Shimon.”
Tony’s fingers flexed around her leg. “I should have hit his body mass. Killed him.” And then, “But you two actually rode in a car with him? Willingly? Couldn’t you tell he was a creep?”
“He was quite good at being Jewish. And no one could fix our rental, so we were really grateful for the lift.” She paused a moment to let that sink in and then recounted all of their adventures in the north. “Yesterday, he said his last name is al Faisal.”
“The sword. Wonderful.” Tony hiked his brow, his grip relaxing. “As sick as it makes me to think about you any place near him, I suppose you were safe enough until I showed up. He was obviously trying to find me through you.”
“He succeeded. He told me he could travel so freely because he is a businessman with an Israeli passport. And that Jamal was only one of his names.”
“Oh, great,” Tony said.
Adam grunted. “Must have several passports, and from different places.”
“He must,” she said. “Why did no one ever suspect? How many others are roaming around with that kind of cover? Khasim, too.”
“It’s too easy for them to do it with all the government appeasement programs.” Tony sounded disgusted. “But as soon as we can, we’ll get as far away as possible.”
“You need to.” Adam accelerated as he pulled onto the main highway. “Nobody’s play-acting here.”
“Right now,” Tony said, “Achmed has other concerns. I know for a fact he’s been trying to play some particularly interesting political games that make me a small fish. Yes, when he gets word his boys have blown it and are rotting in an Israeli prison, he may try again. But Rina and I will be far from here by then.”
“But there are Palestinians in America.”
“They won’t find us.”
She wasn’t so sure about that. They seemed mighty determined to her. “How can—”
“You tell her about Anthony Walker?” Adam asked.
“Yes, but she wants me to sell hardware.”
“Hardware?”
“Or plumbing. I can be a plumber, she said.”
“Tony!” She wanted to slug him and only refrained because she didn’t want to jar a wounded man. “You know what I meant.”
“Yes, darling, I know. And spying’s finished. Not that I ever meant to do it in the first place.”
“Thank you.” She sighed. “I just hope that’s enough—and you’re doing it soon enough.”
“And Sami?” Adam asked.
“He needs to understand.” She hurt for both Tony and his young friend. “You must make him understand what happened. Someone lied. To him and to his brother.”
“I wonder what it will take for him to believe me.”
“Perhaps,” Adam said, “if I also saw him, told him where you’ve been all this time and the condition you’ve been in?”
“I doubt he could hear right now.” Tony’s voice caught slightly on the last words.
“We can pray,” Adam said. “Pray for a softened heart before you see him.”
“It will take a miracle.”
“We know who’s good at those.”
When they arrived in Jerusalem, Tony directed Adam to a specific street corner she’d never heard of before. “Here’s good,” he said. “Don’t want you getting too close to the building.”
“You’ll grab a cab to my place after?” Adam asked.
“As soon as I can.”
She shifted into the front seat. “Be careful, please. I mean, really careful.”
Tony brought her fingers to his lips, brushing them lightly. Fingers. Lips. Shivers, oh yes. He must have felt the tremor, because he grinned back at her. “I will. I promise. And I’ll see you as soon as I can.”
She’d have to learn to accept things like that, a man’s declaration that he’d be fine when he could give her absolutely no guarantees. Yes, three of those madmen were in jail, but what about all the rest?
She didn’t pay much attention as Adam drove to his home. And he didn’t try playing tour guide, for which she was grateful. Her heart was so full of conflicting emotions.
Located on the outskirts of the city with a view toward the temple mount, his house was quaint and welcoming because it looked exactly as she’d imagined: his living room lined with bookcases, with books that didn’t fit stacked near or behind a huge leather lounge chair.
He made them each a cup of tea in his sm
all kitchen, and they sat in the living room to drink it, he in his big chair, she on the matching couch. She felt talked out. Her head pounded again, and all she could think about was grabbing Tony and running far and fast.
When Adam’s phone rang, he reached over to pick it up. She didn’t understand his words, so she sipped her tea and waited.
He disconnected his cell and set the phone back on the table. “That was Ben Cohen, wanting to check on Tony. They knew about Tony’s search for you, you see.” When she didn’t respond, he said, “Of course. You don’t know who they are.” He told her about the couple who’d taken Tony in. It really was bizarre.
“One of the coincidences Tony mentioned, I suppose.” But she didn’t believe in coincidences, did she? She couldn’t after all that had happened.
“Divine engineering, my dear. He’s rather good at pushing and prodding us in a certain direction, don’t you think?” Adam reached over to collect her empty cup and set it next to his.
She smiled her thanks. “Until this started, I’d never given God much thought, except when I remembered the stories you once told me.” And now? “You know my father wasn’t much of a believer, and my aunt stopped attending her church because of some ugliness with another parishioner.”
Adam leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “People are human. They make mistakes, and faith doesn’t automatically cure our nature. But the wonderful thing about HaShem is that he’s there in our wrecks and for our wreckage. Remember David. The Bible’s heroes are also its human disasters.”
She smiled at that. It was so typical of Uncle Adam to put things in perspective and to do it so colorfully. “Tell me more about the Cohens. You said that Ben is also an archaeologist.”
“Indeed. He heads up the program at Tel Arad.”
“I was there, you know.”
His brows rose in surprise. “Tel Arad?”
“Yes. Your secretary said you’d gone south to one of the sites, and I was taking a driving tour while I waited to hear from you. I ended up there, but then…” She paused, trying to grab the fleeting memory. At the Tel Arad site hadn’t that woman mentioned the director? And hadn’t his name been… “I remember when I got there, I spoke to a woman who said the director, Dr. Cohen, was taking a visitor around the site.”
His brows lifted. “That may have been me.”
“Oh, Unc. What if I hadn’t been so unhappy and tired and had stayed long enough to meet him? And what if you’d been there? Or even if I’d just asked about you, if I’d told him about my search, he’d have said he knew you. And maybe all this would have ended so much sooner.”
His laugh started in his belly. She loved the way it rumbled like that, up and out so that his middle actually shook. No, she wouldn’t laugh, because that would hurt, but she couldn’t help grinning. It was really so absurd.
“Your celestial engineer may have tried to draw me into the design, but I was stubborn,” she said.
“And distracted.”
“Yes, and distracted. I was also coming down with a nasty something or other virus. I was pretty ill for a while.” She stretched a hand toward him. “I’m so glad that part’s over.”
“I know, sweetkins. I know.”
She stood slowly. “I think I’d like to take a nap now.”
“Come, I’ll show you the guest room.”
Maybe if she slept, she’d wake to news that they were fleeing Dodge.
But, of course, that would be too easy.
She awoke to the scent of something delicious. And Tony had returned.
He seated her at the dining table. Uncle Adam said a blessing, and they dug into a wonderful, spicy casserole her uncle had prepared.
“My goodness, but this is delicious,” she said.
“Thank you. I enjoy cooking.”
She took another bite and turned to Tony. “In your meeting today…” she began.
Tony wiped his lips, waiting.
“I was just wondering if they gave you any clue about when you can actually assume the role of Anthony Walker.”
“I have to try to help Sami.” He stretched out his hand to take hers. “I feel responsible for him.”
She heard the sadness in his voice and hated that she could understand it. “But what does that mean. For us?”
“I’ve been thinking that you might like to go back to North Carolina for a few weeks. Maybe see your aunt and wait there until I can finish things.”
She locked gazes with him. His eyes held no humor, only a waiting. She also sensed a frustration.
“Will you still marry me?” she asked.
That shocked a hoot out of him. “In a heartbeat.”
“Then I’d like to marry you and stay here until this is finished.”
Tony turned to her uncle. “What will that require?”
Adam set his glass back on the table and wiped his lips. “We’ll have to make application to the Chief Rabbi. You’re both Jews.”
“Am I really?” she asked.
He laughed and pointed a finger at her as if she were a recalcitrant pupil. “Do you want me to be the one who marries the two of you?”
She nodded, grinning at the finger.
“Then accept your heritage. You can learn what it means later.” His raised brows seemed to wait for her to agree.
“Yes, sir.” Because of course she wanted to get married and for him to do it. And she had felt tied to this place, hadn’t she? “Your stories.” At his puzzled expression, she explained. “You told me stories of my ancestors, and I’ve remembered them since I arrived in Israel. Tying me to the land and the people.”
“I’m glad,” he said. “Then I will submit the application. We will need affidavits stating that neither of you has been married before, but that won’t be a problem. I can testify for you, and Tony has enough cousins who can do the same for him.”
“More than enough. The country teems with my relatives.”
“I’m guessing the process will take about two weeks,” Adam said.
She still had one other worry. “What about bad guys coming after you? That scares me.”
“I won’t wander the streets.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. And you’ll be able to spend time with your uncle.”
“You, my boy,” Adam said, “will have the pleasure of sleeping on my couch.”
“Good thing it’s extra long.”
Adam gathered his plate and took it to the sink. “Have you phoned your aunt yet?” he asked over his shoulder.
She hadn’t. Luze would be frantic if the only word had come from an angry Jason. “I must.”
Tony extended his cell phone. “Here, use this. I’ll help your uncle clean up.”
“Thank you.”
She dialed the house number on her way to the living room, and when her aunt’s dear voice answered, she said, “Auntie Luze, it’s me.”
50
TONY
Sami sat in a straight-backed chair, his chained legs extended under a metal table, his cuffed hands on the surface in front of him. He looked as if he’d like to pounce when Tony approached.
“He doesn’t really need those, does he?” Tony asked the guard.
The guard, looking from Sami, who stood a mere five-foot-nine, to Tony’s large frame, shrugged and unlocked the handcuffs before stepping back into the hall. The lock clicked as the heavy door shut.
Sami’s eyes, so like Bahir’s, were filled with loathing and his bottom lip jutted. Gone was the hurt young man Tony’d left in Jordan. In his place sat a man coiled and vicious. Good thing a table stood between them and that guard was at the door.
He pulled out a chair. Sami drew his fists to his lap, while Tony placed his own hands, palm down, on the table. For a moment, he remained silent, watching the play of shadow on Sami’s face as the younger man glanced from Tony’s hands to his face.
“Bidduk-shai? Tea?” Tony asked. “I think they have some. I could ask.”
“Yo
u think you’ve w…won.” Sami’s voice cracked, turning the words into a sad boy’s snarl. His Adam’s apple slid along his neck as he swallowed. “You have not. The final victory will be ours. You will see.”
Still, Tony waited. He’d prayed for guidance before coming, and he planned to wait until he had it. Silently, he prayed again, bringing to his mind’s eye the boy he’d known and loved, the boy who’d been so corrupted by lies. Surely, someplace in there, that boy still lurked.
“I never thought I could hate someone as much as I hate you.”
Tony nodded. “I know.”
Sami spat the words with all the bravado he could muster. “You can’t know.”
“I know the lies you’ve been told—or at least some of them.”
“The lies come from you. They always have.”
The boy. He must remember the little boy and the beach in Lebanon. Backyard fun when he and Bahir were grown and vacationing with the elder Rahmahs. “When you and Bahir left me in the desert, I was bleeding and near death.”
Sami spat at the floor, but there didn’t seem to be much liquid in the spittle. It sounded like a loud pfft.
Tony kept his hands extended, but turned them palm up. “I’m not quite sure how I survived. When I woke in the hospital, they told me a Bedouin had hauled me to a highway and flagged someone with a car. It took a few days for me to become conscious enough to request a phone call to get me out of Jordan. I understand from later reports that two men came looking for me just after I was put in an ambulance. One of those men fit Achmed’s description. The other, your brother’s.”
“You lie. You walked out of the desert, found my brother and killed him.”
Tony slid his arm out of the sling he’d replaced after Jaffa, unbuttoned his shirt, and exposed his shoulder. He’d left off the bandage so Sami could see the reality of the wound. It was an ugly sight, the skin mottled and scarred. “Look at it.” When Sami refused, he waited. And then, gently, he repeated the request.
Finally, Sami looked. And flinched.
“Not a pretty sight, is it? And it’s my right shoulder. The doctors in Amman had to operate to dig out the bullet and put some metal in to repair my collarbone. I’m only alive because I had plenty of flesh and the bullet didn’t hit an artery. Do you think that days or even a week or two after I’d taken such a hit I’d be out hunting anyone, much less my best friend?”
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