Hatolla slumped in his chair in the basement room of Hadara’s Menara home. He felt like a tired old man. Exhausted and ready to end it all. He expected the worst and was prepared to face what he expected. He hoped only that his family would be spared and that his beloved wife, Neima, would live out her years with as little pain as possible. He felt he had done all he had done, risked all he had risked for her. Just for her. He hoped that she would never find out what he had done and that she would never feel anger at or disappointment in him.
He had been here for many hours now. How many he didn’t know. He had been fed and treated humanely so he waited patiently for whatever would happen next. He was not looking forward to his captor’s next visit. The longer they stayed away the better, he reasoned. He was dozing off when he heard the door knob turning and a young man walked in. He held up a video camera and proceeded to film Hatolla from many angles. Then he asked him some questions and recorded both the questions and the answers. Then he asked Hatolla to hold up two newspapers one in Hebrew and the other in Arabic and photographed him with the newspapers. Then he left the room and Abdullah entered.
Sitting opposite him he said. “Husain Hatolla you are free to go. You are free to return to your life just as it was before on one condition. You will now work for us. You will be our source about the Russian mob and anyone else who asks you to spy for them. You will be in constant contact with us.” He handed Hatolla a small compact cell phone and said “You are to keep this with you at all times. It has all the numbers and information you will need to keep in touch with us. It automatically encodes all messages and deletes everything you send us within 2 minutes of the time that it is sent. You are to send us detailed reports three times every week. We are also interested in anything related to the weapons trade and terrorist activities. Is all of that clear to you?”
Hatolla examined the phone closely, then nodded and said, “Yes all of this is clear to me.”
Abdullah then left the room saying, “Memorize your instructions. Take all the time you need to do that. We will quiz you before you leave to make sure you have everything straight. You will not be harmed. You do not need to be afraid as long as you work with us. Now familiarize yourself with the phone and memorize the instructions and you will be home with your family before dawn.”
- 51 -
respect the process
He arrived the following day pallid and downcast. Sitting down he began immediately. “I am not feeling well about all this. There are many things I do not understand. I did an act, perhaps a sinful act for my brother. I did what I did to help him because he is my twin and that’s what brothers do for each other. I saved him from having to complete an abhorrent task that would have marred his soul but instead I find that Rafi’s soul had been marred anyway.”
As always Ari knew Rafi’s feelings. He felt them. Now he felt he had harmed his twin when he was trying to help him. He could not understand how helping his twin ended up causing such a wedge to come between them.
“There is something I am not seeing,” he said to her.
“Right, there is something missing. You are not taking Rafi’s feelings about al Sierawan into consideration,” she agreed. “Objectively you did a good thing and it had turned out to make you and your brother feel bad and be alienated from each other. You worry that the damage to your twin-ship is irreparable.”
“I must agree with your word usage, we are alienated and it feels like it can not be repaired. I cannot imagine living the rest of my life this way. I cannot imagine feeling this conflict with Rafi. So much of our lives are wrapped around each other it just can not continue this way. What must I do to change his mind? To make him love me again?” Ari asked.
“I went to help him, to fulfill his mission. He called out to me. In our way he told me. I knew. I understood. And now he is upset, angry. I … I don’t know what I did wrong. I must have harmed him somehow. I mean … it doesn’t make sense it’s not logical. Give me a formula, an equation and I can understand that. This is just crazy. It makes no sense,” Ari said.
“It may not be logical,” Elisabeth said softly, “but it does make sense. You are seeing only part of the picture. Look at all of it. Open your eyes Ari see what your brother sees.”
“He…no, that is not right. He does not see me as the villain. He feels he himself is the villain. He feels he betrayed a trust, the trust of that man Shukri al-Sierawan. That man cared for Rafi, cared deeply for him. I think Rafi cared also for him. It was somehow mutual. Rafi was seduced into that relationship. It went beyond an undercover assignment. It is like Rafi was brainwashed. He developed an attachment; felt sympathy toward his captor, like those kidnapped in Stockholm so many years ago. But it is not logical. He knew he’d be able to leave there. He knew we would rescue him.” Ari said.
Elisabeth shook her head, “Logic is not the answer here. This is not a math problem. This is about feelings, feelings that grew in a potentially lethal situation. There are many variables to be considered and they are abstract, not quantifiable variables. We are dealing with things like fear and trust and seeing your reflection in someone else’s eyes.
“Al Sierawan idolized your brother. He saw Rafi’s wonderful qualities and saw his future and the future of The Sword of Justice wrapped up in Rafi. Rafi became the answer to many of his needs. And Rafi responded to those views or reflections. He responded to al Sierawan’s idealization of him.”
Ari was silent for a long time then looked up and met her eyes. “Are you saying Rafi was in love with that man? That they were in love with each other?”
“Not in love in the usual sense but there are many kinds of love; The Leader saw Rafi as a miracle, his miracle! In his mind, Rafi was his answer to the problems of the world. Rafi was the answer to his personal problems. His problem of guilt over the loss of his childhood friend, of emotional isolation, perhaps even to the problem of being childless. It’s more than not having someone to carry on his name, his mission or his message, Rafi became the answer to his existential aloneness. Through Rafi he would have life after death. He would carry his torch throughout eternity. Their relationship became a role reversal of sorts for as Rafi worshipped al Sierawan, he in turn worshipped Rafi.”
Ari sat stricken, processing these words and their implications. When his eyes met hers he said nothing. They sat in this way for a few minutes when Elisabeth added, “Everyone has vulnerabilities, Ari. This was a powerfully traumatic time for Rafi. Unable to leave, living an alternate identity, constantly exposed to hashish and al Sierawan’s doctrine, having to repeat those doctrines and extemporize about them while living in constant fear of death would have had a powerful impact on his mind and identity. He would have been particularly vulnerable to this type of connection with an older man who idealized him, praised him, valued him and protected him.
Ari silently absorbed her words. “It was a wrong assignment for him. It should have been me instead. I would have been less vulnerable to those pressures. I am less people-oriented than my brother. I would not have connected to that man. It should have been me undercover in that camp!”
“You seem determined to make this fiasco your fault. The assignment was not your choice and while I understand your characterizations regarding interpersonal vulnerabilities, you actually have no way of predicting how exactly you would have behaved under the same circumstances. You just don’t know. You may not have done what Rafi did but you would have done something, reacted some way that you cannot honestly know. It is entirely possible that if you had been chosen and had played things out differently the plan would not have worked at all. It is entirely possible that the only reason this mission was successful is because Rafi connected with that terrorist and that allowed al Sierawan to connect with him.”
Ari nodded. “I see your point,” he said. “I just feel so helpless. I wish to make it different if only in my mind.”
“I understand,” Elisabeth said.
Elizabeth Reinhardt, PhD
> Great Lakes Bank Building
Suite 315
Chicago, Ill 60601
CLINICAL PROGRESS REPORT
Patient’s name: Ari E Date of Contact: 7/2/2013
Nature of contact: Office Visit __X__ Phone Call ______Email ______Other _______
Reason For Contact: Scheduled __X___ Practical _____Update _____Emergency _____ Other _______
Presentation: Normal _____Depressed/Low Energy _____ Upset/Agitated _____ Frustrated/Angry ______ Dissociated/Detached ______ Anxious/Panicky _____ Obsessive/Worried __X_____ Overwhelmed ______ Desperate/Dependent ______ Confused ______ Guarded/Defended ___X___ Aloof/Distant _____
Urgency: Suicidal _______ Self-Destructive ______ Homicidal ______Other _______
Requires hospitalization: a) Yes_____ specify plan b) No __X_____ if no specify reason___________________
Appearance: Neat ___X____ Disheveled _______ Inappropriate ______________________________________
Substance Use/Abuse: Yes ______ No __X_____ Specify ____________________________________________
Orientation: Oriented: _X_________ Disoriented: Time ________ Place ________Person _________
Areas of Concern: Self/Symptoms _____ Personal Relationships __X______ Work __X____ Finances _____
Health _______ Safety _______ Functioning __________ Moral/Spiritual __X__
Session Narrative: Distressed about relationship with twin, feels guilty about role in the episode. Feels should have done something differently though knows that he did what had to be done. Twin bond has not returned to normal both are distant from each other. Sorting out the nuances of their situation having difficulty with the lack of logic in R’s responses and his relationship with the party in question.
Diagnosis: Axis I: Generalized Anxiety Disorder with Obsessive features
Axis II: None
Recommendations: help him to understand twin’s dilemma from the twin’s point of view – role reverse without judgment of twin or self.
Referrals if necessary: _______________________________________________________________
Clinical Impression: Patient is a capable, intelligent young man in treatment to work on concerns about twin, anxiety about their relationship and help twin heal from work-related trauma, deal with larger life dilemmas
Treatment Plan: Meet 2x week; b. Begin full diagnostic assessment.
Appointment Scheduled: Yes ___X___ No ________
Elisabeth Reinhardt, PhD Elisabeth Reinhardt, PhD
Date: 7/2/2013
- 52 -
HOME STRETCH
They hurried down the back stairs single file. Having tossed the laptop in a safe behind the headboard, they changed into nondescript clothing and fled. They did not see the small group of men whispering and gesturing, glaring fixedly at their building. The couple made their way through the war-torn streets as quickly as possible, he striding several feet ahead, as was the custom, she following head down hands wrapped around a small basket. It took them ten minutes to get there. Walking to the back of a bombed out building they ducked behind a ragged wall and waited to see if they had been followed. Then they climbed up a few wooden steps and slipped inside through a broken window.
They found themselves in a dark open space. The concrete floor was covered with bits of glass and debris. Two bare electric light bulbs pale and bleak cast drab shadows. Guns clasped at their sides, they moved swiftly toward the back edge where a steel door hung on rusty hinges. After a coded knock, the door creaked opened. A grubby man greeted Samira and Zuhair muttering “we’ve got action.” He moved toward a bank of computer screens displaying the outside of their building from every angle plus all rooms inside. On the screen three men crossed the street. One walked to the front of their building, entered a small, crowded restaurant filled with jabbering locals. The man wound his way through the jam-packed tables, laden with food and jabbering customers and exited through the kitchen. In the hallway behind the kitchen, he disappeared into an old freight elevator and pushed a button. Another man walked in the lobby door, he meandered past the reception desk, past the sofas and potted plants and stopped to examine a newspaper on a side table before approaching the bank of mirrored elevators at the side of the lobby. The third man strolled behind the building to a fire escape and clambered up the side of the building.
Feeling a chill, they watched as three assassins breached the reinforced door and entered the living room. They moved with deliberation, guns drawn, knives at the ready. Puzzled to finding it empty, they began to search the place. Systematically they rummaged through drawers and closets, searched behind hanging artwork and under counters. The assassins were relaxing, having been undisturbed for several minutes when black-clothed figures emerged from under the beds. The intruders were captured, bound, gagged, stuffed into large grey waste-bins which were wheeled down the hallway toward the freight elevators.
The man sat alone and nearly naked in the beautiful room staring at the blue Aegean through a curtained window. He sensed his life had changed the minute he laid eyes on her. The woman had a powerful presence that went beyond her conspicuous good looks. She handed him a stack of fresh clothing, said “get dressed” and left the room. Minutes later he sat across from her in a small empty room with only two straight backed chairs separated by a square wooden table. He was wary and tense as he watched her.
“Where is my friend Mr. Sol Aaronson?” he asked.
“Gone,” she said “I’m here now. You can call me Mother.”
“Oh, such a homey name,” he crooned, “it is so warm and loving.”
The woman glared at him
“So, Mother, to what do I owe the honor…”
“Cut the crap, Boulos,” she snapped, “this isn’t a social call. I’m here to offer you a deal and if you take it, good for us and if not bad for you.”
“I see you prefer a blunt conversation so I will respond as you prefer,” Boulos said flatly. “What do you want?”
The woman nodded, acknowledging his attitude change. “You might say I want the opposite of what your friend Mr. Sol wanted. I want you to remain our informant, however instead of avoiding criminal activity, I want you to immerse yourself in it. I want you up to your neck in every mess you can find and I want to know everything you know. I want reports on everything you see or hear or smell. I want details. It will be like I’m riding on your back. You will be my donkey, my mule, my … well I shall avoid using impolite terms but you get my point I am sure.”
“I get your point lady,” Boulos said coldly “and in exchange for being your … um mule what exactly do I get in return?”
“Besides your freedom and your money?” she snapped.
“Yes, I was already getting that from my friend Mr. Sol Aaronson.” Boulos spat. “What will I get from you?”
The woman’s cold grey-green eyes glared, “Your life. If you do not cooperate you will spend the remainder of your sorry life at Gitmo.”
Boulos his jaw set tightly muttered, “I prefer Mr. Sol’s deal. How do I get in touch with you?”
“You don’t. I’ll get in touch with you,” she said rising to leave. “You’ll be freed this afternoon and taken to the location of your choice. We’ll give you a pocket full of cash to last you until your next installment. Whatever monies you obtain via illegal activities are yours to keep, tax free. You will have enough money to live well and will not need to do your usual work. You do your usual work, maintain your contacts and develop new ones. That is what we are interested in. We want to know about your contacts and we want to know what each of them are up to.”
“I understand what you want Mother” he said with a sneer drawing the word out slowly. “I do not like you. I do not like the way that you treat me. I resent it very much. However I will cooperate because you, as they say, are holding all the cards.”
“I am indeed,” Hadara sneered derisively, “And Boulos,” she said turning at the threshold, “you can hate me all you like, I don’t care about that but do not mak
e the mistake of thinking you can escape me or outsmart me. That will never happen.”
- 53 -
CUTS AND SCARS
Ari had just returned from a 4 month assignment in Turkey where he was investigating weapons trafficking by the Armenian mob. Rafi was to have joined him but there had been a last minute change and his handler told him Rafi had been reassigned. Ari had not been able to contact him. Their psychic connection, requiring neither wires or WIFI had been severed. Ari was devastated and confused. Hadara too had been shut down every time she inquired about her son. Standing side by side on the balcony, she and Ari stared toward Damacus wondering where Rafi was. They were silent standing there locked in their own worlds. A long time had passed without a word, so many questions flooded their minds. Finally Ari said, “I should go look for him.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” his mother answered. “Either he doesn’t want to be found or he’s deep undercover and finding him could put him in danger.”
Seeing Double: An Elisabeth Reinhardt Novel Page 31