by Niv Kaplan
They caught a flight to New York as soon as their suspicions were confirmed. Lisa had affirmed the San Clemente house to be as deserted as the rest of them, leaving the Long Island houses, one in Glen Cove and the other in Huntington, the final two opportunities on the Cascade trail.
-------
Kumar knew they were on his trail as soon as Devon called in with a report.
At least three of the houses had been visited. Devon's people had reported talking to neighbors who all gave more or less the same account of being approached by strangers of foreign origin and asked about the house and whether a girl had been seen in it. All the neighbors had been handed photographs of a pretty blonde girl who, in two of the cases the fable being, had been an old acquaintance who was being set up for a surprise reunion. In the third case, an old farmer who had been approached not three days ago said the female who had approached him had a male partner and was asking not only about the girl but also about a man.
Kumar interrogated Devon a good fifteen minutes before letting him loose, instructing him to remain accessible but do nothing for the moment. It was time to approach the inner circle.
He was quite troubled by the news but was especially concerned about the reference made to the man expected to be seen with the girl. It sounded almost as if they had a description in mind. Of course the old farmer could have sparked accidental interest reporting seeing one of the bodyguards, but Kumar suspected otherwise. The apparent interest was not a fluke but rather quite intentional and yes, they had someone in mind.
The Cascade trail had been uncovered, that was a foregone conclusion. The information from Johnson had managed to filter through and the setup was apparently cracked. It was an unfortunate impediment but not something impossible to deal with. Much more troubling and complicated, resolution wise, was the suspicion that the one person who could link the entire scheme together may have been singled out.
Kumar made a mental log of significant events he kept in his mind to try and piece together what led them to that person. The German operative in Denmark had been tracked and made to talk. That gave away Glass, but not much else. The elimination of Johnson and Eckert came too little too late but he was not aware they had any information about the man. The sister and boyfriend were well within his sights and did not seem to be causing harm, and the feds were not even close.
He wondered about the Israeli security arms and whether they had decided to covertly return into action. After all, the threat to their country had never really gone away. He could not rule out that option completely but he had made various inquiries that proved nothing of the kind.
He was in the dark about who else was involved, but sensed that whoever it was, had to be collaborating with the sister and boyfriend, who were probably much more resourceful and careful than he figured them to be. If they had managed to find out about the project and the chain of events that led to the kidnapping, then they had to know about Dan Hasson.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized how vulnerable his setup had been against people who were not affected by political considerations. His entire premise was shot to hell once the scheme simply became criminal. Anyone who treated the affair as a straightforward kidnapping case could easily trace their movements once he held one end of the string.
In a tiny country like Israel where everyone knew everyone, tracing the chain of events would have been a cinch if you knew what you were after. Someone can gain access to the particular confidential file and inform an interested friend who they happen to owe a favor. After that it would only be a matter of putting two and two together to come up with a connection and follow the footprints to where they lay now.
There were gaps in this rationale and some items still unresolved, but - bottom line - he was already in trouble. They were knocking on his door and threatening the entire project and it would be his skin if anything went wrong.
He disconcertedly lifted the receiver and dialed the house.
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They spotted signs of occupation during their first run of the house.
Verifying the address, they drove by fairly slowly and immediately noticed the activity at the end of a long driveway. The house was partially obscured from the street, surrounded by a wide, circular lawn with several bare rose patches, a few trees, and a set of neatly trimmed, shoulder high bushes, surrounding most of the bottom floor. The front of the house and the adjacent garage could be seen directly in front via the driveway or from the sides through narrow gaps in the natural wall of bushes. It was actually possible to see through the winter bare bushes, but the view became blurred from afar. The entire second floor was quite visible except for a side window where a neighboring tree thickly spread its limbs.
They spotted a dark minivan parked by the front entrance to the house where the driveway widened and disappeared under a partially open garage door. Two of the minivan doors were open and two men were walking from it to the house.
They drove past the house, turned right on the first cross street and circled it from aback. Careful to avoid being conspicuous, they did not drive past its front again. Instead, they drove away from it a few blocks, turned and approached it from a different direction aiming to reach a vantage point they thought was concealed enough and offered a reasonable view.
The vantage point turned out better than anticipated. They parked just beyond an intersection facing the house from a slightly elevated position, partially obscured by a large Cadillac, some bushes, and whatever traffic happened to go by. The driveway and front entrance were clearly visible and so were most of the front windows on both floors. The dark minivan was still parked in front but the people were gone and the garage door was shut.
They had barely managed to settle into a surveillance routine, when the inexplicable happened. Eitan, making a first pass at adjusting the binoculars, saw her exit the house.
He had been focusing on the front door when it abruptly opened and three figures appeared, closely shielding a fourth. Her face simply popped into his line of sight, jolting him. He had but a few seconds before she disappeared into the mini-van, but it was enough. It was Karen, he was certain of that - her hair cut short and dyed black, her image scrawnier and coarser than she had appeared in her photos, but he could recognize the face anywhere.
He dropped the binoculars on his lap and started the car. Wildly putting it into gear, tires screeching, he maneuvered around the parked Cadillac and shot across the intersection, nearly hitting a passing garbage truck.
Sarah looked at him in astonishment but said nothing.
The minivan was slowly pulling out of the driveway heading away. Eitan slammed on the breaks and waited to give it some room. Then, as he was about to proceed, a second car pulled out of the driveway and followed the minivan. Eitan swore and halted a fraction longer.
"It's her! In the minivan!" he said deliriously, maneuvering the Corsica at a distance from the second car. "It's Karen."
Sarah did not reply and Eitan kept focused on the road, in pursuit, barely able to squeeze by several traffic lights. When he managed a peek at her, he noticed her cheeks wet with tears. She sat upright, her hands holding on to the dashboard, her gaze alertly following the chase, her expression a mixture of relief and concern. At a stop light he held out his hand to her and she squeezed it tightly turning to him with a silent glance of acknowledgement. They held each other's gaze for a brief moment treasuring their accomplishment before abruptly resuming the chase.
They drove through a maze of quiet side streets before reaching a more active boulevard. Eitan had managed to stay with the back-up car, losing sight of the minivan from time to time. To their relief, the backup car overtook the minivan as they veered onto the busy boulevard, accelerating out of sight.
They were on Route 25A, the North Hempstead Turnpike, heading east. After several miles they turned north on Mill River Road toward Oyster Bay. The minivan drove carefully, obeying traffic rules and was rather easy prey for Eitan
, whose experience chasing wild hogs through meadows and creeks proved quite handy. Once they reached the town of Oyster Bay, traffic became a little denser allowing them keep an even lower profile.
At the center of town, the minivan turned left to West Main heading north along the Oyster Bay Harbor to West Shore Road which flanked the enclosed harbor from the west. They drove along the water for about five miles before the minivan abruptly entered a small side alley and stopped in front of a secluded house.
Eitan slowed the car's progress but remained on West Shore Road, driving past the alley, catching the minivan doors fly open and its entourage racing to the house in a huddle; the backup car was parked in front as well.
They drove on until they reached the next alley and doubled back, slowing down across from the house again, in time to see the back-up car pull away. It was coming after them. Eitan increased his speed to the permitted limit restraining an urge to race away, carefully monitoring his rear view mirror. The backup car turned in their direction and quickly closed the gap, remaining aft of them for several trying seconds before accelerating around them and pulling away.
With a sigh of relief Eitan turned off the main road to a side street and stopped at the curb.
"We must find a place where we can watch the house," he said, shifting the car into park and turning to Sarah.
"I saw a small dock with some people by the water," Sarah said, uttering her first words since they sighted Karen. "We may be able to watch it from there."
There was an awkward pause as each searched for words to describe their bizarre state of mind.
"Are you OK?" Eitan inquired, looking concerned.
"I am now," Sarah said. "What a shock…"
"I still can't believe it happened…” Eitan confessed.
"Is it really her?" Sarah marveled.
"It's her," Eitan affirmed, "a little different but definitely her."
"We're lucky to have you around," Sarah conceded, smiling weakly at him.
"Does this make up for what happened before…?"
"Nice try," Sarah giggled, nudging his shoulder. "You'll be getting your pardon when we get her to Lisa; now let's get on with it."
"Let's do that," Eitan said and swung the car around returning to West Shore Road. He drove north until they spotted the dock opposite the alley. An outline of a path, marked by snow-filled tire treads, led them off the elevated highway ramp to a deserted, snow-covered lot, adjacent to the dock. At that point they were obscured from the house and could see it only after ascending several slippery steps up the dock.
The small dock turned out to be a mini fisherman's wharf with a pier for renting out small fishing boats and a wooden cabin displaying a sign for a fish restaurant at its far end.
The place looked deserted. The boats for rent were stacked and covered with canvas inside a locked screen pen, the crooked sign barely readable due to the accumulation of ice, and the wooden dock in between the rental place and restaurant completely bare and covered with a thick layer of fresh snow.
"I thought you saw some people here," Eitan remarked as the two of them cautiously walked along the dock leaving deep shoe imprints in the powdery snow, trying to duck the wind and an occasional icy sprinkle from the jagged waters of the Oyster Bay harbor.
"I could've sworn..." Sarah started to say, when a man wearing an apron and rubber gloves emerged from the opening underneath the restaurant sign, carrying two nylon garbage bags, hurrying to a dumpster by the main road. As they approached closer they noticed the main entrance to the restaurant was on the opposite side of the cabin, obscured from the dock. The small opening underneath the sign was actually the back entrance to the kitchen.
They walked around the snow covered wooden cabin, realizing it was bigger and more active than had seemed from the dock. There was a second, larger parking lot for diners, sporadically occupied at that hour of the morning. It was linked to the main road via a narrow asphalt path, nestled among piles of removed snow, which ran along the water a good half mile before turning to meet the main road.
The location offered a decent view of the house.
They could see it at an angle, through a row of trees that ran parallel to the main road. It was a two-storey, New England style house, with a white frame and blue painted windows, enclosed by a column of trees, surrounding a spacious, snow-covered lawn. The trees were bare and at a distance from one another and were only partially obstructing the view.
Snow was piled all around the house perimeter, covering the driveway to the standalone garage and pathway to the front entrance. Contrasted with a neighboring house and two other houses across the alley, it was apparent the house had not been inhabited for quite a while, or at least during the present winter.
The minivan was still parked outside.
They entered the restaurant through a heavy oak door that led to a small waiting area which featured padded benches cut into the wooden walls and some shelves for hanging coats and umbrellas. Following the hostess into the dining area, they noted the two pay phones positioned by a small alcove that led to the restrooms. Inside, the cabin was dimly lit but warm and cozy with a crackling fireplace, tables and chairs built of heavy oak wood, and windows situated on opposite sides; two facing the harbor and two facing the main road. They asked to be seated by the side facing the main road but quickly realized neither window offered a reasonable view of the house. Apologizing to the scrawny waitress who came by to take their order, they left with two coffees to go.
Back outside, Eitan went to fetch the car and Sarah inspected the parking lot for a suitable surveillance site. The snow had been cleared away, unevenly piled around the lot's perimeter, shielding some of the view. She crossed the ditch separating the lot from the main road, looking for a spot that offered a clear line of sight to the house, pausing at a spot she thought served that purpose. While she waited, she noticed two men come out of the house and begin shoveling snow, clearing off the accumulation around the front entrance and both the driveway and pathway to the street.
When Eitan arrived she joined him in the car and they both watched as the men finished removing the snow then backed the minivan into the garage. When the backup car appeared once again they turned to talk to whoever was driving the car. Eitan had the binoculars out and was studying the two men, noting any outstanding identification marks. They were both wearing heavy parkas with dark sunglasses, though the sun was securely tucked away behind a thick mass of clouds. He did manage to distinguish one with a beard and another with dark curly hair.
Curly had been the one clearing the driveway and backing the minivan into the garage while Beard Man had cleared the pathway and front entrance. Both had stooped to the driver side to talk to whoever was driving but Eitan could not discern a face due to a reflection off the car's front windshield.
The backup car quickly pulled away after the short exchange with the men, this time turning north on West Shore Road and driving past the turnoff to the restaurant.
As the two men approached the front entrance, they were met by another man whose features stunned Eitan for the second time that day.
He had made a conscious effort to memorize Nadav's description and amateurish portrait of Noga's dad and he was reasonably certain he was looking right at him. Dan Hasson/Arbel had finally surfaced.
He quickly gave the binoculars to Sarah instructing her to focus on the entrance, but by the time she had managed to locate the spot, the three men had disappeared into the house.
"That was Hasson with the other two," he blurted out.
Sarah shifted her gaze from behind the binoculars and looked at him inquisitively.
"Are you sure?"
"Pretty much," Eitan replied. "I saw his face and build. If Nadav's description is anything close, that's our man."
Sarah looked through the binoculars once again hoping to get a glimpse but the perimeter of the house was empty. She surveyed the windows for a bit then gave up.
"You realize this is
n't the house we were supposed to inspect," she remarked.
"How's that?" Eitan asked, his turn to be surprised. "I thought there were two houses around here."
"Two that we knew of, this one is a third."
She reached for the map in the back seat, folding it to the appropriate section and showed him the markings she had made.
"We followed the minivan from the Glen Cove house to where we are now, which is just north of Oyster Bay."
She gave him a moment to catch his bearing then went on. "But the second house we were supposed to have checked is right here in Huntington," she explained, pointing to the spot on the map. "Had we been ten minutes late getting to the house in Glen Cove, we never would have found her."
There was a moment of silence as her statement sank in. Eitan had a sudden flash of a documentary he had seen on the first manned flight to round the moon. The success or failure of the mission, depended on a split second ignition of an engine to get the spacecraft orbiting the moon at just the right trajectory. The slightest delay in the firing of the engine would have flung Apollo 8 into space, condemning them to be circling aimlessly until they ran out of oxygen. That brought on another association - the infamous Ground Control to Major Tom line, from David Bowie’s Space Oddity, depicting an astronaut who had been flung into space and was drifting away. A ten-minute delay and they would have gone to Huntington only to find that house as deserted as the rest of them.
A thought struck him.
"Why, then, did they all of a sudden decide to move her here and not to the other house?"
"I've been thinking about that myself," Sarah said, "and I think it's because they're on to us. Somebody found out we were sniffing around and gave the order to sneak her away. I guess this house served as a backup for just this kind of circumstance. We just happened to be in the right place, at the right time."