Forever, My Homeland: The Final Book in the All My Love, Detrick Series

by Roberta Kagan

  “There they are,” one of the Mossad agents said.

  Marilyn was shaking so hard that Bari felt her body trembling in response.

  Two female Mossad agents went over and untied and removed the blindfolds off of Bari and Marilyn. Both girls were crying, their knees were wobbling so hard they could barely stand. Elan walked over and helped them to their feet.

  In the light that filtered through the darkness, Elan could see a hint of red in Bari’s hair and immediately knew that she was his daughter. She got her red hair from her mother. Elan had a quick flashback to the first time he saw Janice. He was working at his father’s fruit stand in the market, and the first thing he noticed was that fiery hair.

  “I am Elan Amsel. I am your father,” he said to Bari.

  Bari was so overcome with a wild mixture of emotions that all she could do was break down in deep sobs.

  When Bari put her hands over her eyes, Elan saw a little bit of Noa in the gesture. It was ever so slight, but just the way in which Bari moved made Elan think of his other daughter. He, too, was suddenly overcome with emotion and he took Bari in his strong, capable arms. She buried her dirty face in his muscular chest and wept.

  One of the female Mossad agents was holding Marilyn, for she, too, was crying. “Come, everyone. Let’s get out of this place,” Elan said.

  CHAPTER 42

  Noa spent over an hour getting ready for her sister’s arrival. She set her hair on electric rollers then tried on three different dresses, but none of them was to her liking. Finally, she settled on her favorite pair of jeans and a silky white blouse. She came out of her room to show her father how she looked. Elan nodded his approval.

  “You are beautiful no matter what you wear, just like your mama was,” Elan said, smiling, but his heart was breaking as he watched his daughter and thought about Nina. Nina, God how he missed her.

  Bari Lynn and Noa greeted each other clumsily at first, but within a half hour, it seemed as if they had been friends forever. Janice and Elan spoke. It was mostly small talk, very little reminiscing, but at least they had found peace with each other. Elan did not understand how Lucas could sit so quietly and say nothing.

  Lucas hardly spoke, and it seemed to Elan that no matter what Janice said, Lucas never argued with his wife over anything. Yet somehow, Elan did not see this man as weak. There was an inner strength in Lucas that Elan could not figure out. And even though they were very different, Elan liked Lucas. It was hard not to like him.

  By the end of the day, Elan was glad that he’d brought them all together. It was good for Noa and Bari. But it was also good for him and Janice to have finally settled their problems from so long ago. Bari was his child, and when he looked at her, he could sometimes see himself. But she seemed so much more like Lucas, the man who had raised her.

  Elan thought that he should still be angry because she kept him in the dark all of these years about Bari’s existence. However, he wasn’t. He was, in fact, grateful to Lucas for having been a good father to Bari. If Elan had known about Bari when she was born, he wondered if he would have been as good a father. He was young at the time, still restless and wild. Perhaps it had all worked out for the best.

  CHAPTER 43

  Kazim had never had the opportunity to recite the shahada with a holy person when he was dying. Athir prayed that his brother had said it alone in his mind as he left the world. It was hard for Athir not to blame himself for everything that had happened. His mother cried constantly. Two of her sons had now gone away from her, one forever, the other for a long time. Kazim was dead, and Fadi was in prison.

  Only Athir was left to her, and he had just received a letter saying that he had been accepted to the University of Wisconsin, in America. Now his dream of going to America was crushed. Being the brother of a terrorist in prison and one who was just killed in a political kidnapping put him on the terrorist watchlist. He had no hope of being allowed into America.

  That night, Athir tenderly wrapped Kazim’s body in the traditional three pieces of white fabric. The first he lovingly pulled over his brother’s head like a shirt. The second he used to cover the bottom of Kazim’s body.

  As he wrapped the third completely over the entire corpse, he began to weep. Long, heartfelt sobs came bubbling up like a volcano from the artery in Athir’s heart. He loved Kazim, and in many ways, he could not help regretting what he had done. If he had never told Wahib, would Kazim still be alive? Or would Kazim and Athir both be dead, and the girls, too?

  There was no way to tell what would have happened. The situation had gotten so out of control. Still, for the rest of his life, Athir knew that he would carry the guilt of the death of his brother on his shoulders and it would always remain buried deep within his heart.

  Only the family was present as Kazim’s wrapped body was laid in the ground. The heart-wrenching cries of his mother could be heard echoing across the burial ground. How could the sun shine so brightly and the leaves of the trees glisten in such stunning shades of green even while Athir felt such pain. These thoughts ran like a ticker tape inside of his head.

  Late that afternoon when the funeral was over, Athir went to Wahib’s house to see Wahib.

  They sat outside on the concrete stoop. Neither of them spoke. Athir moved some stones that were lying on the ground with a stick he found that had fallen from the nearby tree.

  “I can’t believe that my brother is dead. He is gone forever from this life. I will never see him again.” Athir bit his lower lip. He knew that it was Wahib, and he should be angry with Wahib, but he wasn’t. He knew that Wahib only did what must be done.

  “I know. I am sorry for you and your mother.”

  “After all of this, I will not be permitted to go to America,” Athir said, with downcast eyes and heart.

  Wahib withdrew an envelope from his robe. “Inside of this are your passports, and two airplane tickets to America, one-way of course.”

  “The Americans will never let me onto their soil. I am brother to two known terrorists.”

  “It is arranged. You are not regarded as a threat to anyone. You will able to stay in America as long as you want, even to become a citizen if you wish.”

  “How?”

  “It is the will of Allah. You will be a man of peace and make me and your mother proud.”

  “I don’t think I can go to America and leave my mother.”

  “Perhaps you should take her with you? I can get another passport and ticket.”

  “She would never go. This is her home. Her sisters are here. She is too attached to this place. But I can’t help it. I want to get away from here, Wahib. As long as I stay, the Fatah will want me to be a part of them. I can’t do that.”

  “Yes…you’re right. Then you must go to America. Take the woman you love, marry her and leave this place. Try to convince your mother to go with you. But if she refuses, you must go anyway.”

  Athir felt his throat tighten. He knew that what Wahib advised was the right path for him to take, but he had never been further than fifty miles from the place where he was born. It would take courage to build a new life in a new land. But he would go forward and take the leap of faith. He would put his trust in Allah.

  “You told them, didn’t you? You went to Mossad and told them everything,” Athir said. He was looking down at the ground watching a group of ants walking in a line on their way to an unknown destination.

  “Yes.” Wahib took a long breath. “It was me. I told them.”

  Athir nodded.

  “I’m sorry. I never wanted to do this to you and to your family. Believe me. It was not something that I would have chosen to do if I could have had any other choice.”

  Athir nodded again. “I know that…You loved Kazim, too.” There were tears in his eyes.

  “I did love him. I loved all three of you boys like you were my own sons. But fighting against Israel is futile, and it will only result in endless cycles of death and loss. You were made by Allah for something
better. Fulfill your destiny.”

  “I will…” Athir said.

  Wahib put his arm around Athir and Athir wept as the old man held him like a son. At some point in time, the day had turned to night, but still they sat together in silence.

  When Abdul and two other close friends and members of the FPN arrived, Wahib and Athir were still outside.

  Athir looked at Wahib in fear. Wahib nodded.

  “I have been expecting you,” Wahib said to the young men who looked like hoodlums.

  “You betrayed your own brother?” Abdul said to Athir, ignoring Wahib. “We know it was you. We know because you were the only one who knew where the girls were being held and it was more than obvious to us that you were against the mission from the start. You should be ashamed of yourself. Kazim was your blood. He loved you, Athir…all your brother ever wanted was to see Palestine free for your children and for mine, and to free your brother Fadi. Was that such a terrible thing? Was it, Athir?”

  Athir stood. His eyes met Abdul’s. “I did what had to be done. You know that what you are doing is wrong. You were going to kill two young, innocent girls.”

  “He was your brother, Athir! Your own blood, Athir! You care more for two strange girls than for your brother? What kind of a man are you?”

  Abdul pulled a gun out of his pants pocket. “I should let you live so that you can live with the guilt of what you did for the rest of your life. But I can’t, because I can’t trust you. You are the enemy now.”

  Wahib got to his feet. He was slight of build and a little hunched, but he stood tall to meet Abdul’s eyes. “It was not Athir who betrayed you. It was me…”

  “You, old man? You? How could you know where we were holding the girls if Athir didn’t tell you?” Abdul’s hand that held the gun was trembling.

  “Kazim told me. You forget, I was like a father to him, too. He trusted me.”

  “Kazim? Kazim told you, and you betrayed him? How could you? Why would you?”

  “Because, as you should know, I am a man of peace. I am a religious man, and terrorism is against everything I believe in. If you must kill someone, kill me, not Athir. He is not responsible.”

  “But…” Athir said. “It was not Wahib…”

  “It was me…” Wahib said convincingly. “Don’t try to protect me, Athir. I will take responsibility for what I have done. I have done what I have done because it is not right to kidnap innocent young girls. I betrayed you. I am not a terrorist; I am a man of peace.”

  “Who is protecting who?” Abdul said aloud.

  “Please, don’t hurt him. I promise you I am the one who told the authorities where you were keeping the girls,” Athir pleaded.

  “It is now the first time I have opposed the FPN. I told the Mossad about Fadi and his partners that did the bombing of the medical clinic,” the old man confessed.

  “No, it’s not true!” Athir said.

  “Stop trying to protect the old man, Athir. He betrayed you and your brothers—both of your brothers,” Abdul said, and then he shot Wahib. “Stupid old man,” Abdul said. “Come on, let’s go. Let’s get out of here.” Abdul nodded his head to the other members of the FPN, and they took off into the night.

  Wahib fell so softly to the ground that it was as if his soul had already begun transcending. Athir bent down beside his old friend, and with his voice filled with pain, he began to recite the words of the shahada. Wahib’s eyes were closed. Had he heard?

  Athir held his breath as he waited for a sign. Then, as was customary for a devout Muslim when he was dying, Wahib raised his index finger to let Athir know that he’d heard the words of the shahada, and he’d spoken them into his heart as he left the earth on his way to meet his beloved Allah.

  “I know you did what you had to do. I forgive you, Wahib,” Athir whispered softly, and wept as one weeps for his father.

  CHAPTER 41

  Athir never told his mother that Wahib was responsible for Kazim’s death and Fadi’s imprisonment. She understood that he loved Wahib like a father. Athir performed the service of preparing his body for burial as he had done for Kazim.

  The pain was deeper than it was for Kazim. He had drawn the old man into this mess, and he died because of it. Athir spent the time of mourning that was customary for a father though technically he and Wahib were not related.

  When the days of mourning were over, Athir approached Raeda’s father for permission to marry her. Wahib had left Athir his house, and Raeda’s father accepted it as a dowry. He was especially pleased to see the plane ticket, passports and acceptance letter to the medical school in America.

  ***

  The El Al flight from Tel Aviv to Chicago O’Hare landed on the tarmac and rolled to a stop. Athir and Raeda would catch their connecting flight to Milwaukee, and then take a bus to Madison, Wisconsin where they would get settled in before registering at the University Of Wisconsin School Of Medicine.

  Mossad had convinced Washington that they would pay for the plane tickets, but Washington had to foot the bill for a full-ride scholarship and a stipend to support the young couple through medical school. The U.S. considered it a bargain. Good intel was worth its weight in gold, and the young man had proven his loyalty.

  The ground crew rolled out the stairs to the aircraft. After the stewardess thanked them for flying El Al Air, the passengers got up and started getting out their suitcases from the overhead bin. The Mossad agent on the proof of life call has personally bought the couple a set of suitcases for their trip. The couple dressed in American-style clothing. He wore a black pair of slacks, white shirt, and a black pair of shoes. She wore a very conservative green dress, a gold scarf, and a pair of black-leather pumps. Athir insisted that if they were to live in America, they would dress like Americans, albeit like the conservative ones. Raeda already liked America and decided that when they could afford it, she would go shoe-shopping.

  The couple rolled their new, wheeled suitcases to customs and got in line. The busyness of the place was almost dizzying to the couple. Finally, it was Athir’s turn at the custom window. He handed his passport to the blonde custom agent, who smiled at him.

  “Sir, do you have anything to declare?’

  Athir considered the question thoughtfully for a moment. “Yes. I am so grateful that you invited me to America!” he said, with a broad grin.

  The agent smiled and stamped his passport.

  CHAPTER 45

  Ben Gurion Airport; Tel Aviv, Israel

  Tova looked in the small mirror in the compact that she kept in her purse. She fluffed up her hair for the one-hundredth time today. Gerhard’s flight would be arriving in less than fifteen minutes. It had been a year since she’d seen him, but he’d called her consistently every week, and they’d talked long distance for an hour. She hated to think of his phone bill.

  But over the year, she’d realized how much she missed him, and although they’d only spent one week together, it was the happiest week of her life. He told her he loved her every time they spoke, and although her heart melted like butter at the sound of those words, it was hard for her to say them back to him. She finally told him she loved him, but she could not say it as often as he said it to her.

  She’d spent quite a bit of money preparing her apartment for Gerhard’s arrival. Aya had already gotten fur on the new bed sheets and the new sofa that Tova had purchased. But all in all, Tova was satisfied with the way everything looked.

  This visit would be the first time that Gerhard would speak at Yad Vashem. They were going to Jerusalem for three days. Aya was staying with Tova’s neighbor. It was all arranged. During their phone conversations, Gerhard had told Tova how nervous he was about public speaking, but how honored he felt to be allowed to make this small gesture of apology for his father’s behavior.

  Tova fidgeted as she looked up on the screen above her. Gerhard’s plane had just landed. In less than ten minutes, he would be here beside her. She leaned against the post and waited: short of breath,
and nervous.

  Gerhard’s heart was thumping. His stomach was alive with excitement. He and Tova, what an unlikely pair they made. How perfect it was, all in God’s plan. Gerhard followed the crowd out of the airplane. Then when he saw Tova standing across the aisle in the airport, it was all he could do not to run to her. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.

  “Gerhard…” Tova called out.

  Now Gerhard could not help but run. It seemed like miles until he reached her. When he got there, Gerhard took Tova into his arms. She let out a small laugh, and then they kissed.

  In his eyes, she was a beautiful young girl. In her eyes, he was a handsome prince. In reality, they were two lonely middle-aged people. She was a little overweight with a plain face, and he was slender, but without any muscle and balding. It was strange how they had met, how with their bloodlines they should have been enemies. But instead, God had made them twin souls.

  “Tova, I am thinking that maybe I can get a job here.”

  “In Israel?”

  “They need engineers in Israel, don’t they? I have a good resume…”

  “Really?” she asked. “You mean it? Of course, they need engineers in Israel.”

  “I want to marry you. You will never leave this country. I know how you feel about Israel. So… I decided that I will come to you. Besides if I live here, I will be available more than once a year to go to speak at Yad Vashem if they will have me.”

  She cocked her head and looked at him in disbelief. “You would give up your job? Your home?”

  “Yes, for you I would. I want to be happy, Tova. I am no longer young. I want to spend the years I have left with you. What is life without happiness?”

  Her eyes were shining as he looked up at him. “You are serious?”

  “Very. So, what’s your answer?”

  “My answer? What’s your question?”

  He set his suitcase down on the ground. Then, Gerhard got down on one knee. People at the airport stopped to watch, as Gerhard took a small box out of his pocket.