Seeing Double: An Elisabeth Reinhardt Novel

by Nancy Alexander

  “Sounds like Hezbollah might be involved in this,” Gil commented, “They are a political party in Lebanon. If there’s a hidden high level government official involved in funding nuclear arms, maybe they are part of the kidnapping as well.”

  “Hadara didn’t seem to think so,” Sammy answered.

  Simon picking up from his twin added, “She is convinced that this Sword of Justice did the kidnapping.”

  “Well Hezbollah is rooted in Lebanese society, do we know if there is a connection between the two groups? It seems they are competing for the same followers,” Gil answered.

  “Hadara seemed cautious about something,” Sammy continued, “there was something odd about what she said, I thought,” turning to Simon he added, “did you pick up on that too?”

  “Yep,” Simon nodded, “I didn’t think it was about Saroyah, but there was some other personal reaction to that group, something she didn’t want to talk about.”

  “Yes! Exactly!” Sammy exclaimed, “I was about to ask her about it but the bomb went off and all hell broke loose!”

  Elisabeth nodded, “There’s more going on here than we know. This is not a random or even a usual kidnapping, there are several possible terrorist groups that could be involved or contributing to the confusion and there are issues with the family we're in the dark about. I’d think there would have to be some insiders involved. The Olive Grove is a walled compound people can’t just stroll in and out of there.”

  Gil, silent up to that point, said, “Let’s concentrate on what we can do to get the mother and kids out of the country after Saroyah is out of wherever she is. That’s what we’re doing here after all, right?” Gil wanted to get organized. “Let’s get clear about what we’ll need. 1. We’ll need passports and airline tickets, 2. We’ll need cover and cover stories that make sense. 3. We need to get Jamila and her children out of Lebanon and into Israel so we all can leave together. 4. We’ll need a plan to get them through the country and the airport if they are being chased. 5. Startnet will have to be onboard with all this and we’ll need the paperwork to back it up.” Turning to Elisabeth he asked, “Does Jamila know you or has Hadara told her about you?”

  “I’m not sure,” Elisabeth said turning to her brothers, “do either of you know if Jamila is aware of us being here to help?”

  “Yes,” Simon said, “I had a brief phone conversation with her when we first met Hadara. She was too distraught to talk much, but I think she’ll know who I am if I call her.”

  “Good,” Gil said, “let’s make a list of what she’ll need to do and give her a call. We are at a bit of a disadvantage, strangers in a strange land with two kidnap victims to worry about, one of whom is our main contact…”

  “Right,” Elisabeth interrupted, “I’ll get with the family and get the facts we’ll need for forged passports and the Chicago team can take it from there.”

  “Okay, back to Middle East facts” Simon said reading from his screen, “The Sword of Justice shares some views with the other groups, but is more extreme. They don’t concern themselves with Palestine or specifics about property lines or land allocation, their focus is global and it involves the annihilation of every country that is not specifically populated by Arabs. World destruction is their goal.

  “Their ‘final solution’ is nuclear! Because they are Allah’s chosen people, they believe this nuclear war will not affect them, their people or their land. They believe that Allah will create an invisible shield like an enormous tent and will hold it over his chosen people and they will be protected from the nuclear fallout that will blacken the earth obliterating all life, plant and animal. They proclaim thirty days after their nuclear holocaust, Allah will produce a great wind which will cause the earth to spin on its axis faster than the speed of light; as the earth spins all nuclear debris will fly off the surface of the planet into outer space where it will dissolve into millions of tiny harmless particles.

  “They believe that everything will disappear: buildings, highways, all remains of human, plant and animal life. All evidence of Western civilization will be obliterated, all technology eliminated, every aspect of present life and culture will evaporate and disappear spinning off into the infinite blackness. Only oceans, rivers, streams, mountains, forests and flatlands will remain. The earth will be cleared and as fresh as the day it was first created. They believe then Allah’s people will migrate across the earth, grow and multiply and create a whole new world in Allah’s name devoted to his teachings.”

  The group was silent absorbing the sobering sentiments. “So, you see” Simon continued “it’s not just the promise of a blissful afterlife that impels the followers of The Sword of Justice it’s annihilation of the world as we know it and the creation of a whole new world.”

  Sammy ashen-faced added, “All human races and religions will be destroyed. Every aspect of global culture will be destroyed. Arabs alone will survive the nuclear holocaust! Allah will be the only G-d! Islam the only religion! All enemies destroyed. Nothing left to fight about! Middle East problem solved!”

  - 21 -

  WHAT HANGS IN THE BALANCE?

  Rafi smiled and nodded at the men around him. When he spoke, words glided off his tongue. He spoke with conviction and intensity. He spoke of the destruction of Israel, world destruction and world peace. Of the Arab people being supreme and finding themselves free with a whole new world to build and explore. He spoke of Allah and his supreme power protecting his chosen ones and of the beauty to come when Islam rules the world. As he spoke, his voice took on a hypnotic quality mesmerizing those around him. The Leader was transfixed; all the more convinced that Rafi Tahan was sent to him by Allah. His youth and religious fervor would bring more converts into his organization than any other single effort. Rafi Tahan would become the voice of The Sword of Justice. He would become the face of The Sword of Justice! Even he, The Great One, was not so eloquent; with all his ideas he could not turn heads the way this young man did. Yes, he smiled to himself as he put the hookah to his lips and inhaled the filtered smoke deeply, this young man is Allah’s gift to me, he leaned back with satisfaction and closed his eyes.

  Rafi’s stomach churned with anxiety, but he smiled and charmed the listeners with his velvet voice and his youthful fervor. He knew his cover was good for now, but worried that any minute something would come unraveled. He raised his hands to his eyes, worried as always that his contact lenses would slip and his smoky grey eyes would be revealed. What a nightmare that would be! He pushed the thought away as the group talked on. Bowing his head, he drifted into a meditative state and as his mind cleared found Ari’s spirit. The twins always knew when the other was in trouble. Now Rafi felt Ari’s support. Ari realized his twin’s situation was precarious. Rafi and Ari were like two sides of the same coin, linked inexplicably to one another mentally and emotionally. He remembered how as small boys they could beat anyone at any game. Their telepathy was extraordinary. Without words or gestures they knew what the other knew, thought what the other thought and felt what the other felt. The twins were an unbeatable team. Card games were a snap, ball games went undefeated and in chess it was checkmate after 4 moves.

  He wished more than anything that this mission was over and short of that wished that Ari was here with him, helping him. These people were truly frightening. They were ruthless and absolutely convinced they were right.

  He wished that his little cousin Saroyah had not been brought into this. That complicated things for him. He wanted her out of this camp not just because of her own safety but also because she compromised his safety. What if she somehow came in contact with him and recognized him? How could he expect a frightened child to remain silent? To act as if they were strangers?! Wouldn’t it be more likely that she’d run to him? Call out to him? And what if he saw her? Could he remain unemotional? What if they harmed her in his presence? He could never remain silent and expressionless, that would be impossible and would certainly mean instant death to them both. Moshe
had gotten a message to him during the night that his protection team was being redeployed to get Saroyah out of camp. That left Rafi without back up. Rafi didn’t like it but his little cousin needed to be rescued. The only thing that helped him now was Ari’s psychic presence.

  More relaxed, he thought about what he needed to do next. He wanted to look around the camp, get more familiar with the layout. He didn’t know the protocol for these Sword meetings. They had prayed, they had eaten, they had talked, they had listened and they had partaken of the hookah and now The Leader appeared to be asleep and the others seemed to want Rafi to talk more with them. It seemed risky to continue talking, it seemed respectful and safer to be a listener so he returned to the role of junior member and inquired as to the ideas and opinions of his elders, hoping it would buy him time to figure out what to do next. He listened politely as the men droned on and wondered if it would be rude or impertinent to leave. Perhaps a bathroom break would be permissible. As the noon hour approached and the sun grew hotter, Rafi grew tired, restless and uncomfortable. Quietly, he excused himself and went in search of whatever passed for a rest room in this encampment. He hoped he could learn something of strategic importance about the layout of the camp like where his cousin was being held and what happened to the poor man he had seen being dragged off earlier. He hated to think of what had happened to that man during these past hours. As anxiety flooded his body, he fervently wished this mission were over, but he knew he couldn’t leave yet. He had a mission to fulfill and could not leave until he learned precisely what The Sword of Justice was planning.

  They stood looking down at her talking to each other. She was awake and she thought they knew it, but they had not touched her or spoken to her. They had made no effort to interrogate her, if indeed that was what they planned to do. Their purpose was unclear. Who they represented was unclear. Why they were holding her was unclear. They moved away speaking in hushed tones. She was pondering possibilities when she heard it again, faintly from across the other room, ‘the voice’ speaking in low tones. It was him, she knew it was. The man was urging something, asking for something. His tone stopped just short of pleading. She knew what they were pushing him to do had something to do with her.

  Gamil Ajram knelt down next to her and touched her shoulder. “Hadara?” he asked “Can you hear me? Are you alright?”

  Slowly she roused, turned toward him, blinked and answered drowsily, “Yes, husband of my husband’s sister, I am alright. What happened? Why have you brought me here? Who are all these people?”

  “I have not brought you here,” he said, “these men say they found you. I came to help identify you. They tell me they are going to help us get Saroyah back. Can you sit up now?” he asked, helping Hadara sit up. He handed her a cup of water and asked again, “Are you alright? Were you hurt in the explosion?”

  Hadara shook her head, but was puzzled by his words. If indeed they meant to help her from the explosion why had they not laid her on a cot or covered her with a blanket? They hadn’t examined her, given her medical care, tended to her wounds, offered her water or food. So no! thought Hadara, Something is not right here; his explanation did not make sense. Why bring him here to identify her when others could do that? And how did he know that they could help with Saroyah?

  “Who are all these people Gamil?” She said again, “Please, help me up and introduce me to your friends,” she said. What she didn’t say, but what she was thinking was, What exactly are YOU doing here Gamil? You work for the Lebanese Department of Agriculture not some underground espionage organization. How did you get connected with these people?

  Gamil helped her to her feet and together they moved to a rough wooden table. She sat stiffly on a bench, drank the water they offered and looked at the odd collection of men gathered around her. “Let me introduce myself Ma’am,” said a tall blond man in his 40’s wearing a starched tan uniform. Extending his hand, he said “I am Lt. Walter Ross, US Navy.” Accepting his hand, she introduced herself.

  The next man to speak was young, with a few days growth on his cheeks; he wore wrinkled desert khakis and badly needed a bath. He extended his hand, “Mikhail Gendel, ma’am, I’m a freelancer working undercover for Interpol,” he said, but his twinkling eyes conveyed a different message. As Hadara took his hand she spotted a tiny Hebrew letter inked on the loose skin between his thumb and forefinger. It was Yosef’s sign. Calmer now, her eyes indicated ‘message received.’

  The third man was older, an Arab possibly Moroccan. He spoke softly, kept his hands folded in his dark green Djellaba. He did not offer his hand, (a devout Muslim would never shake hands with an unrelated woman) but his voice was cultured and very polite. “How do you do, ma’am, I am called Husain Hatolla,” he said with a small bow “I am here to represent a certain committee of the United Nations. It is called the ‘Middle East Resolutions Committee.’ The committee is working to stop incidents which could spark a series of events ending in global destruction.

  My nation does not wish to have great segments of the earth destroyed, so we wish to stop this particular organization which is called by the name The Sword of Justice. For that reason,” he paused and gestured to those around the room, “we have come together. We are as you see an uncommon group but we believe that we share a common goal and you, Ma’am are part of that goal, I believe.”

  Uncommon group indeed, Hadara thought, and wondered for the hundredth time what was going on.

  - 22 -

  CONNECTING THE DOTS

  The beige HP LaserJet shot out page after page, reports from the Mass Spectrometer that had finally completed its analysis of the samples Ari Ben Aviv processed most of the night. It was as he feared. Every sample tested proved positive for weapons grade Uranium 233, Uranium 235 or Plutonium 239. Deuterium and Tritium also present. Standing at the printer, Ari read through the reports, face ashen. Samira rose and walked over to him, putting an arm around his shoulder she read along with him. Together they uttered a brief prayer in Hebrew “Dear G-d please keep us safe and guide our footsteps through the dark days ahead.”

  “Come, let us sit for a moment and gather our thoughts,” Samira said ushering her brother to the makeshift seating arrangement across the room.

  T-Max and Pablo entered the room as they were consolidating their information; seeing their expressions T-Max said, “Okay, so it’s bad, right? What’s the plan?”

  “Communication is first on our list.” Samira said, “We need to contact Mossad and the other four agent groups in the US who are also exploring this angle and let them know what we found. They have not progressed as far as we have, so we’ll take the lead on pipeline tracing.”

  “Do we need to have some personal conversations with our dear friend Herr Friedrich Müeller?” T-Max asked, with a devilish grin.

  “I believe that is wise to do, yes” Ari answered, “and let us be doing that as soon as it is possible.” He glanced at his sister who nodded her assent.

  “Shall I bring him back here or take him to our country home?” Pablo asked.

  “Oh, I think some fresh country air might do our German friend some good, he’s been looking a bit haggard.” Samira drawled in her imitation Southern accent, “We’ll finish up here and meet you there this afternoon.”

  “You want me to do the catch and escort by myself?” T-Max grinned “or should I take this slacker along with me for company?” He bumped Pablo playfully.

  “Can’t do a little grab and drag by yourself?” Pablo shot back as they walked out of the room together, “Need me to show you how it’s done, is that it?”

  Samira grinned at Ari, “quite a pair those two,” she commented.

  Ari nodded checking his cell phone. “The brother called Mr. Manny has done some analysis of the information that was removed from Herr Müeller’s museum office. He says that the flash drive has much information on it. That is most good to hear, do you not agree Samira?” Ari asked. “He also told to me that sisters Stella and Reina are
working on the extraction plan. Processing passports and making arrangements for the Jamila and the children once they get here. That information will be soon forwarded to Jerusalem by courier. Tomorrow it will be taken to the US Embassy. Mr. Gil McCray and the good doctor Elisabeth are making arrangements for the pick-up and delivery.

  “Alright let us complete our list first and then we’ll divide up our tasks,” Samira suggested. They spent the next 40 minutes writing down all the things that needed to be done that morning then divided up the tasks. Aside from contacting the other 4 museum teams, there were other pressing issues: rescuing their mother and little cousin. Samira had gotten word earlier that Mossad had agents in place at both locations, but so far it was presumed they were both still captive. Rafi’s situation was unverified, but Ari assured her he was alright and gave her a little run-down of his impressions. And then there was the issue of their missing father! It seems no one had received a message from or about their father for days. His job, working as a Lebanese attaché representing the Prime Minister, seemed to take him everywhere and no one was quite sure what he did, but Hakim Faysal made it a daily habit to contact each of them. They sighed and exchanged a few worried comments, both of them feeling conflicted. Too many things were happening with too many members of their family all of them of critical, life-threatening importance and they felt powerless to help. They were continents away…. worlds apart.