She’d studied the martial arts with him for all those years, and now, when she needed to fight, she was weak and terrified. Then Bari remembered Marilyn. Was she here, too?
“Mar, are you here?” she called out in her darkness.
“I’m here,” she whimpered. “My head feels like I’ve been hit by a truck, and I gotta pee!”
“Same here. You otherwise all right?”
“Nothing that an extra-strength Excedrin, a hot shower, and a massage couldn’t cure.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Thank God, Bari thought. At least, she is still alive and unhurt.
What had happened? Where was she? It was dank and filthy, and it seemed as if she must be somewhere underground. A moist, musty odor penetrated her nostrils. The floor on which she sat was not a floor at all, but dirt and rocks. Think, Bari, she said to herself, try to remember what took place the previous night, and how did I ever end up here?
She and Marilyn had dinner with that older guy, the one with the German accent. He seemed nice. He’d bought them drinks even though they were underage. Was he responsible for their situation now? But how? If she remembered correctly, he’d said goodnight to them.
Then they walked him to the elevator, and he went up to his room. After that, she and Marilyn had gone off to a night club. Bari had not had a lot of exposure to alcohol, so she’d been affected more strongly than she realized.
Bari could remember that she and Marilyn had gone to several different clubs. They’d danced with lots of older guys. At the time, she’d loved the numbing effect of drinking and the excitement of the music. It helped her to forget how lousy she felt about the rejection she’d gotten from Ido earlier that afternoon.
“Move closer to me and I will do the same,” Bari said, wiggled her body closer to Marilyn.
“Okay.”
It was hard to move. Bari’s entire body ached, and it felt as if she were bruised all over. In the darkness, she could hear that Marilyn was inching her way toward her, and Bari realized that her friend was crying.
She wanted to cry, too. But all she could do was wiggle her body slowly closer toward Marilyn. It took a long time, but finally, Bari was close enough to lean against her friend. The comfort of the warmth of a familiar body helped ease some of the panic. The two girls were lying on the dirt floor side-by-side, both of them crying softly, Bari wishing Lucas was there to help her.
Marilyn was drifting in and out of sleep, but Bari could not rest. She was alert when the sounds of male voices came from somewhere above them. The voices spoke in Arabic, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. Their tone was angry. She knew there were several different voices, and they were quite agitated.
***
Kazim Nasir loved his older brother, Fadi. They’d built this group of dedicated people who worked together to reclaim the land that was stolen from Palestine by Israel. Now his brother Fadi was in prison along with several other members of their FPN cell. Yes, they could be called violent, but how else does one deal with a people like the Jews, that demand everything, and the American infidels who support them? Secretly he couldn’t help but admire the Israelis. They were relentless, fearless, and nothing stopped them. But he hated them too, for everything they’d taken from him. Along with their American allies, they’d destroyed his family, killed his dear father, imprisoned his brother and best friend, stolen his dignity, and his country.
And of course, there was always that lesson from what had happened with the athletes in Munich. They’d learned the hard way that Israel didn’t negotiate with terrorists. The Israelis would rather see the death of their people, rather than to give in to the demands placed upon them. They had learned from Operation Wrath of God that the accursed Mossad would hunt them down in any country, even if it took twenty years.
They didn’t forget, and they didn’t forgive. If his group slipped up, it would be certain death for them all. But they would not slip up. His cell has strict orders not to discuss the girls with anyone, and they would keep the hostages blindfolded.
However, America was another story. They wanted to appear humane in the eyes of the world. He had two Jewish– American girls in the cellar, and he was pretty sure that they were worth a fortune in Palestinian lives. If he threatened to kill them, America would intervene, and there was a damned good chance they would exchange his brother and the rest of their members for these two kafirs, these detestable scum.
Elected American presidents could not stand the media heat of kidnappings. Wasn’t it true that Jimmy Carter was defeated in the election by Ronald Reagan because of the hostages at the American Embassy in Iran? They were fools to show that they could yield to kidnapping.
True, this President Reagan was more decisive in his stance against terrorism, but he did not always agree with Israel, either. Perhaps this would be the wedge that they could drive between the Americans and the Israelis. Kazim smiled—soon they could renew the fight to reclaim their land and force the filthy Jews out.
Now his younger brother Athir was a different person altogether. He was always challenging Kazim to rethink his ideas, and as far as Kazim was concerned that was dangerous.
Athir was his brother and Kazim trusted him with his life, but Athir was not a firm believer in the methods of the FPN. He was constantly warning Kazim that following the FPN was sure to get them both killed. Kazim knew that Athir wanted to go to America to study medicine, and it tortured Kazim to know that his own brother was being swayed by the kafirs.
Kazim considered the Holy Qur’an. 1:194—“If any one transgresses against you, you also may retaliate against them to an equal extent. Have fear of God and know that He supports the pious.” Kazim was not a religious man, nor were most of the other members of his group, but he used the scriptures wherever possible to keep the troops motivated.
The real reason for his hate was the loss of their land, and for that, he would use any means necessary—the scriptures, bombs, guns—whatever it took and to fight the accursed Jews for the rest of his life.
Even worse than Athir, was his mother. Kazim’s mother was constantly begging him to stay out of trouble, to go to school and try to live side-by-side with the kafirs. He knew it was because she had already suffered the death of her husband and lost one of her sons to a life of imprisonment. But she was a woman, and women had no place in making decisions. It grieved him that it made her heartsick to see her sons in trouble.
It had taken great convincing for Kazim to persuade Athir to be a part of this kidnapping. Athir had wanted nothing to do with all of this, but Kazim knew how badly Athir longed for his brother Fadi to be released from prison. Even so, Athir had not agreed until the members of the FPN had promised Athir that they would not hurt the girls. Even so, the greater FPN organization would kill them if they let the girls go free without the release of the prisoners. They would have to kill them if they didn’t get what they wanted. The FPN would lose face and be unable to do successful kidnappings in the future.
The ransom letters had been delivered early that morning by a group of local children who were under ten years old. They were grooming these children as new recruits for the FPN. The FPN was reasonably confident that because of their age, these kids could walk around without attracting much attention. A copy of the letter was sent to Mossad, one to the offices of the Prime Minister of Israel, and another to the American Embassy.
“How long has it been since you’ve given the two girls any food or water?” Athir asked.
“We haven’t given them anything. They’ve only been here for a short time,” one of the members said.
“That’s not right. I’ll bring them something to eat and drink.”
Athir took a bottle of water and loaf of pita and climbed down into the cellar. The odor of damp earth greeted him. In one hand, he carried the food and water, in the other, he held a high-powered flashlight.
“I’ve brought you something to eat and drink,” Athir said. He had studied English for several year
s in school, so he spoke it fairly well. He hoped his fluent English would help him as he tried to find a way to go to college in America.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Bari said.
There was a hole in the corner of the room that had been dug for the purpose of a makeshift bathroom.
Athir unbound Bari’s feet and helped her up off the ground. Even blindfolded, she grabbed his wrist and tried to kick him, but she was dizzy and fell over. How could her martial arts training fail her now?
“Don’t do that again,” he said. “I’m warning you. Or I will leave you without food or water, and to rot in your own filth.”
She could hear anger it in his voice, and she was suddenly frightened.
Athir stood over Bari Lynn as she urinated. It was an embarrassing moment for him. He had not wanted to be involved in this mission at all, and now here he was acting like a terrorist. Once she finished, he rebound her legs.
She was afraid to try to fight him again. It was obvious to her that she had been given drugs to ensure she would lose consciousness. That was how they must have taken her. Her drinks had probably been tampered with. Now the drugs had left her weak and unfocused. If she tried to fight again and failed, he might hurt her or Marilyn.
Once her legs were bound, Athir took Marilyn to the makeshift latrine for her to pee. Once she returned, Marilyn sat beside Bari, and Athir bound her legs again.
“Listen to me,” Athir said. “I know you want to try to fight and get away, but it is no use. Your captors are right upstairs, and they have guns. Never attempt to take the blindfolds off. The day that you see our faces, you will die. Do not scream. No one but my partners upstairs will hear you, and it will make them angry.
I have been assigned to take care of you. I will not hurt you as long as you cooperate. The others are very angry with Americans and Jews, and some of them would like to kill you. They probably won’t shoot you because they need you, but if you cause any trouble, they could hurt you badly. Don’t make me sorry that I tried to be kind to you.”
Bari Lynn nodded.
“I have a gun,” he said, his voice cracking with nervousness. “Please just eat and drink. Don’t cause any trouble. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You speak good English,” Marilyn said.
“Almost everyone in our group speaks, at least, some English.”
Both girls ate the bread and drank the water. Bari had never been this hungry before. Her captor was young, perhaps twenty, or twenty-two at the most, by the sound of his voice. There was something else in his voice. Was that a sense of regret that she detected?
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry that we have to do this to you,” he said. “I know you’re scared…”
It was regret, Bari thought. She could hear the apology in his voice and she felt a glimmer of hope.
“Why did they kidnap us?”
“You are hostages for the release of some of our members from prison.”
“What happens if you don’t get what you want?”
“May Allah be merciful,” he said, with a quivering voice.
Just then, a male voice came from upstairs like a roar of thunder.
“Athir, tie them back up and come up here. I need your help…now!”
“Your name is Athir?” Bari Lynn asked boldly. She’d once heard that if someone was attacking you that it was best to find his or her human side: ask them their name, tell them yours, and ask about their families.
“Now, Athir!”
“I’m coming, Kazim.”
“Yes. My name is Athir.”
“I’m Bari Lynn, this is my best friend Marilyn,” she said.
“Athir…” His brother was calling him.
“I don’t need to know your name…” Athir looked away from her and stared at the door leading upstairs. A trickle of sweat tickled his brow and dripped into his eye. “I’m sorry,” Athir said to Bari and Marilyn, and she heard the sound of the door closing and the falling of his footsteps as he climbed the stairs.
CHAPTER 30
When Janice and Lucas arrived at the Ben Gurion Airport in Israel, they didn’t even stop to drop their luggage off at the hotel. Instead, they took a taxi right to the offices of Mossad. Elan was at his desk and on the phone with the prime minister when his secretary informed him that he had visitors.
He glanced out his office door and saw Janice sitting on the old sofa in the waiting room. She’d aged. Her once flaming-red mane was now short and styled. Her slender shape had filled out, but her face was red, and deep lines had formed between her eyes from the after-effects of weeping.
A man with long hair sat beside her, holding her hand. That must be her husband, Elan thought. That must be the man who raised my child. Elan had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Just seeing Janice again transported Elan back to the time when she was his wife… It was hard to believe that once, so long ago, they’d been married and divorced. But it was even harder for Elan to comprehend that she had borne him a child, a girl who he’d never even known about until only a few days ago.
A part of him was angry with Janice for all of the years she’d lied to him. He wanted to give her a piece of his mind, to tell her just what he thought of her deceitful behavior. But, seeing Janice sitting beside her husband with her head on his shoulder, and so much pain in her eyes, Elan couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She’d stolen his child from him, but she was a mother that was terrified and desperate. How would he feel if Noa was missing?
“Yes, sir, Mr. Prime Minister,” Elan said, as he hung up the telephone.
He sat, taking deep breaths for a few minutes, and then he picked up the receiver and dialed 0.
His secretary answered.
“Send the two people who are waiting for me, to my office,” Elan said.
“Yes, Mr. Amsel.”
Janice walked in with her husband beside her. She could not meet Elan’s eyes. The years of lying and denying her past were now meeting her face-to-face. Here was Elan, the man she’d once thought she loved, and the same man who she had once thought she hated. He was the father of her child, and he was an arrogant, inconsiderate Israeli. However, Elan Amsel was the only thing that stood between her precious daughter and disaster.
Janice realized that at that moment, she was glad Elan was the strongest man she’d ever known. If there were a wall, he would break through it head-first. Yes, it was true. Elan had been a terrible husband, but there was no doubt that he was a magnificent soldier.
“It’s been a long time,” Elan said. “Come on in, both of you, and sit down.”
Janice and Lucas sat in two chairs facing Elan, who sat behind his desk.
There was a long silence.
“I’m Lucas, Janice’s husband,” Lucas said, stretching his hand out to shake Elan’s hand.
Elan did not return the gesture, and awkwardly Lucas withdrew his hand.
“You are the man who raised my daughter?” Elan asked.
“Yes, I did. I love her as if she were my own child. She is a wonderful girl.”
“Hmmm,” Elan said, rubbing his chin and nodding as if he were going over everything again in his mind. “And the two of you, together, decided to keep my own flesh and blood child from me for all of these years?”
“Elan, I’m sorry. It was a mistake.” Janice turned away from Elan and gazed out the window at Tel Aviv. The memories of her last morning in that city came flooding back to her. “I was so angry at you for leaving me and going off to war. Elan, I’m sorry. But the mistake is on me, blame me. But please don’t let anything happen to Bari because of what I did.”
“When we got married I told you that if Israel ever needed me, I was going to put Israel first. You should have understood that. I made it clear. That is what it means to be an Israeli.”
“I didn’t understand then, Elan. I was young. Please, I need your help. Bari needs your help. She’s your child, Elan. She’s your blood…” Janice was crying.
>
Elan leaned back in his chair and shook his head. Bari. Who the hell was Bari? He wished he had known her all these years. To him, she was a stranger. And now, this girl, this child of his own blood was being held hostage by enemies of his beloved country.
“Have you met with the parents of the other girl who is missing?” Elan asked, trying to break the tension in the room.
“Not yet. We left our suitcases at the front desk. We haven’t even been to the hotel yet. But we are going to see them as soon as we leave here.”
Elan got up from behind his desk and walked to the window. He looked out for several minutes, then turned back to look at Janice and Lucas and sighed. “What’s done is done. I can’t change the past. But I am not going to allow a terrorist group to take the life of two Jewish kids. So you can count on me to do my best.”
“She wanted to meet you,” Lucas said. “She wanted a relationship with you. She’s good and kind. I know it must be hard for you to take all of this in right now, but we appreciate everything…”
Elan raised his hand to stop Lucas from talking. “Enough.” Elan’s voice was firm. “I said I will do what I can.”
“Thank you, thank you so much, Elan,” Janice said.
“Go now.” Elan waved his hand at Lucas and Janice. “I’ll have my secretary keep you posted on any new developments,” Elan answered, and then sat down again at his desk, indicating that the meeting was over.
After they had left, Elan got up and closed the door to his office. He needed time alone. He had been slighted, but he’d decided to do his best to rescue the daughter that had been kept a secret from him all of these years. His gut was churning, his feelings were so conflicted. It was a good time for a drink, something to calm his nerves, something to ease his anger.
CHAPTER 31
Tova had finished her coffee before she went back into the interrogation room. She knew she was right about Gerhard, and the message that had been delivered from the FPN confirmed her suspicion. Gerhard was innocent. A group of terrorists had kidnapped the girls.
Forever, My Homeland: The Final Book in the All My Love, Detrick Series Page 14