by Ronie Kendig
“I own it. It’s okay.” Azzan walked to a cabinet that sat under a curtained window on the opposite wall, opened it, and drew something out. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll be back with a vehicle big enough for all of us.”
“And where are you going to get that?” Legend seemed to suck up every extra inch not occupied by the ten people filling the one-room abode.
“I can’t tell you.” Azzan stopped and shifted to the other men. “Listen, I have more invested in seeing this thing finished than any of you, save my uncle.” His eyes, a mirror of her own, seemed to implore the team to trust him.
At least he was smart enough not to ask them for trust.
“I’m going with him,” Legend said.
“Agreed.”
“No!” Max and Azzan stared at one another after they’d spoken in unison.
Her cousin combed his fingers through his closely shorn hair. “I can move quicker and with less notice than I could if a large, black man were with me. He stands out. I don’t. The people know me.”
“He’s right.” Piper blinked, realizing those words were hers. When the others looked over at her, squatting next to her father, she straightened. “Legend will be too noticeable here.”
But she had to admit she didn’t entirely trust her cousin right now. “And accents,” Piper said. “Surely Azzan’s will be noticed. Anyone can tell he’s not from here.”
Her cousin puffed his chest. “The people know me, know I travel for business.”
“What kind of business?” Legend asked.
“My own.” Azzan’s confidence hadn’t wavered. He pointed to Max. “I’ll take you, but keep your mouth shut.”
“Fool—you don’t give orders.” Legend folded his thick arms over his barrel-sized chest.
Azzan’s eyes glittered under the low lights. “Here, I do. You don’t know where you are or where you’re going.”
The Kid stepped up next to Legend but looked a midget beside the oversized man. “We didn’t get to be the best by being stupid.”
“No, just ignorant and narrow minded.”
Piper covered her mouth, disbelieving her cousin. He’d always been forthright, but his boldness bordered on belligerence—and stupidity with the men in this room. Without thinking, she hurried to Azzan and touched his arm.
But it was too late.
Legend tensed. Unfolded his arms. “You want to try that—”
“I’ll go.” Max nodded. “Legend, one hour.”
Features taut, Legend glowered.
When he yielded, Piper felt the kinks in her stomach lessen—but only a little.
Creaking, the open door afforded a somber wash of moonlight into the home for a second before darkness once again descended as it shut.
“Okay, people. Lights low, voices even lower.” Legend moved through the house and propped himself against the front door.
Colton stalked out of the shadows, cradling that weapon. “Eyes out. Windows and doors.” He walked through the house and out of view, past the curtained-off room that no doubt held a lone bed.
The others situated themselves at the remaining windows and back door. Joining her father at the table, Piper felt the weariness seep into her muscles, the cold night aching her bones. She should be happy to see Baba—and she was—but there were so many secrets, so many things he’d never shared. Yet it all seemed so silly to harbor resentment over that when, according to what he’d said at the hotel, they were fighting for the survival of their nation.
“You are angry.”
His wizened voice drew her gaze from the knots of the small table. “Hurt.”
“Don’t you understand?” he whispered. “I could not tell you, or you would have been in danger.”
Piper jerked forward. “I was in danger, Baba! It was unfair to send me away, not knowing what I was fighting or running from. They came after me, hunted me down. They killed Colton’s father!” she kept her voice tight and controlled.
“Colton?” He shrugged. “Who is this?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Oh but it did, so very much! She quickly tucked away the deep feelings and hurt to focus on the issue at hand. “The point is you sent me away, did not tell me anything, and they still found me.”
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I do not know how they found you. We did everything we could to stay out of their sight and control.” His cold hand settled on hers. “Who is this Colton? Why did his father get killed?”
She swallowed, her ears burning as she wondered if Colton had overheard them. Yet no sound came from behind her at the rear of the house. She braved a glance but could not see him through the curtain.
“The tall man, he is Colton?”
Bringing her attention back to her father, she gave a slow bob of her head. “I … I think if it were not for him, we would not have come.”
“These men … they came because of him—and his father was killed?”
Though she did not want to relive that night, she had to tell her father about the great sacrifice. “They came to my apartment, tried to get the transmitter.”
“Ah.”
“But Colton stopped them. Killed one of the men. Soon, they brought more to his home and attacked.” Burning started at the back of her eyes. “I heard his mother scream. We ran through the house … and found his dad there, dying.” A tear slipped down, remembering Colton’s grief and the brokenness she’d seen. The way his heart had hardened toward her, sealing off the hope of any future with him.
“He all but quit, right in front of me, but the other men, they must have convinced him to join the mission to save you.” Piper sighed. “His sister died here, years earlier in a café bombing.”
Her father’s eyes rose behind her, focused so intently on some point that she turned to see if Colton had appeared. When she looked back at her father, his lips parted. Then he slowly shook his head. “He came to help me when our enemies killed his father?” The disbelief hung thick in her father’s words. A twinkle shone in his eyes. “This is why you love him, nachon?”
Piper straightened, her pulse racing.
He chuckled. “So, I was not delirious from deprivation.” He stroked the unkempt beard. A few minutes later, he pushed from his chair. Started for the curtained room.
Heart stalled, Piper gripped the back of her chair. She hissed,
“Baba, no.”
Shoulder propped against the wall, Colton peered through the narrow slit into the darkness. He lifted the handheld scope and scanned the distance. Unsettled at being here, knowing they were sitting ducks had kept the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
He’d seen the way Piper had sided with her cousin when Max had called the shots. And that hurt. Made him wonder if she’d ever felt anything for him, or if she was just trying to bide her time while her father sorted out the affairs of a nation.
Nah. He didn’t believe that, but his heart and mind needed ammo to keep going, to make sense of this twisted mess. Bouncing the scope in his hand, he peeked down the darkened street. Homes lined the sliver of a dirt road. Most decent people were asleep, unaware of the team of Americans huddled in their midst. And he’d like to keep it that way. Get out of here. Get home to Mickey and his mother.
And bury my father.
Squeezing the thought out of his mind, Colton lifted the scope and once again scanned the surrounding areas. He flipped it to thermal, hoping to give himself some reassurance.
A noise rustled near him. He pulled the scope away from his eyes—and flinched.
The old man stood right in front of him, watching.
A swirl of adrenaline and warmth washed through Colton’s gut. “You should be resting.” He put the scope to his eye again, glad he didn’t have to stare into those eyes any more than necessary.
“The village is quiet, nachon?”
Colton lowered the device but maintained his vigil watching the perimeter. “Reckon so.” Come to think of it, there was an unnatural quiet here … not just in this villa
ge, but this entire country. And it had him on edge.
“My apologies for the loss of your father.”
Colton darted the old man a look. “This isn’t the time or place for—”
“For as long as the nation of Israel has existed, there have been those who have sought to destroy it.” Yitshak Rosenblum bore a vehemence, despite the deep bruises and heavy beard. “Long has the Kingdom of Darkness waged a war to wipe God’s people from the face of the earth. Nation after nation killed or attacked Jews, slaughtered the firstborn males time and again. Never against any other race has there been such deep-seated hatred.” He drew in a breath, his thick bushy eyebrows knotting together. “Germans died protecting Jews. And British. Even Americans.”
What was his point? That they were all going to die here, waiting for the man’s nephew to return? Or was the assassin bringing death upon them while they just sat here waiting for it?
“Your father’s life was taken to protect our country as well.”
No, no don’t react. Keep it tight. Controlled.
Colton pushed his head down, battling to strangle the first reaction—to lash out at the man. They had to keep it quiet, not draw attention. Forget it. He couldn’t do it. Colton narrowed his eyes at Rosenblum, unwilling to let the justification stand. “My father was on my property, heading to bed. He wasn’t here; he wasn’t fighting a war. And he didn’t have a choice.”
Yitshak smiled. “You are here to help Israel, nachon?”
Colton clamped his mouth shut. He wasn’t going to play into this man’s hands.
“Even though your father was killed?”
Each breath came harder, faster.
“I do not think the apple falls far from the tree. You are like your father, yes?”
Colton nodded—didn’t mean to, but he did. Wished he hadn’t because he didn’t want to give this man any ammo to pelt him with.
“Why are you here?”
Swallowing, Colton pushed off the wall. Turned to the window. To the curtain where the others stood guard on the other side. “We don’t have time for this.”
“What you do not have time for, Colton, is to allow an enemy in your camp.”
His heart caught. Enemy? Was he referring to Azzan?
Holding up a hand, Yitshak stayed him. “No, I do not refer to a man. There are already many enemies out there, coming for us, but the one to which I refer, the one you do not need is in here,” he said, tapping Colton’s vest-protected chest. “Bitterness is a defeat you cannot afford.”
“Bitter—” Colton chomped down on the word. His chest hammered. He tried hard to breathe, saw his nostrils flare.
A somber expression stole into Yitshak’s face. “I ask your forgiveness for the pain that all this has brought upon you. No doubt you feel my daughter has betrayed you.”
Colton looked away. Hating the way this man read his soul like an open manual. Yes … yes, Piper had betrayed him. Cut the heart right out of him, not trusting him, hiding secrets, keeping him at arm’s length and a lifetime from the truth.
“Deep betrayal can cause us to close our hearts to our own experiences of forgiveness.” Yitshak came a step closer.
Colton nudged him back. “Stay out from in front of the window.” But really, it was the proximity of the man’s soul-probing gaze that upended his frayed nerves.
“I see in you, Colton, the light of Yeshua Himself.”
Wiping a hand over his face, Colton tried to fix his attention on the street. The desert. Anything but this old man.
“You are a believer in Yeshua, nachon?”
“Yes,” Colton said between ground teeth. Not because he wanted to deny Christ, but because he felt like he’d just handed this guy an RPG to take down the defenses that had barricaded Colton’s heart.
“Do we not all have the guilt and blood of Yeshua on our hands? There is no greater betrayal, yet we have his unconditional love.” Yitshak let out a breathy laugh.
“Quiet,” Colton said, knowing full well the man wasn’t loud—yet the words screamed through his thick skull.
“There.” Yitshak pointed toward the east. “Not far from that turn in the road is Abraham’s Well.” His eyes glittered. “You know it, nachon?”
The change in subject startled Colton. But at least Rosenblum had left off the lecture. “No.”
“When Jacob, son of Isaac, came to the well, he saw his kinswoman, Rachel.” He smiled. “You know the story, nachon? He worked for seven years only to be tricked—”
“Look, we should be—”
“Jacob’s firstborn son by his beloved Rachel was Joseph. The treasured and favored son.”
“His brothers sold him.”
“Yes, sold.” Yitshak nodded as his gaze rested on something out in the window, his eyes seemingly lost. “To Bedouins. A slave in Egypt. Countless years he spent not as the son of the promised one—Israel—but as a slave to pharaoh.”
“Sometimes life sucks.”
“Isn’t fair.” Yitshak all but glowed. “When presented with a moment of reconciliation, what did Joseph say to the very brothers who preferred cold silver to the loving warmth of their own brother?”
Dawg, he’d stepped right into it, hadn’t he?
“ ‘And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you.’ “ Yitshak tilted his head. “Did not Joseph, of all men who have been wronged, have the greatest reason to hate and become embittered?”
“Look,” Colton said, his voice and heart tangled amid Rosenblum’s words … the truth of those words. “I know you—”
“Yeshua seeks to use you for His purposes. Are you a man that you would dictate to God how He would accomplish His purposes?”
How dare this man! “I’ve prayed night and day for God to lead me, guide me, to make me stronger and prepare me. Yet, I am tormented with memories, suffer debilitating flashbacks, and now—now my father is killed. And you’re going to stand there and tell me it’s God’s will? Why should I pray? It hasn’t done me much good.”
Yitshak drew back, his brow again knotted. “What? You think praying is supposed to make life easier? If the great I Am answers your prayers, it is not to make life easier, but to prepare you to handle more!
The words silenced him.
“My Lily loves you.” Rosenblum’s chest puffed out. Though Colton wasn’t sure, he thought a healthy rosiness filled the old man’s cheeks. “You love her as well. I see it, rooted deep, which is why the secrets she kept from you hurt all the more.” He clamped a hand on Colton’s shoulder and squeezed. “Forgiveness is for our own good.”
“Heads up.” Legend’s voice came from the front of the house. “We got movement.”
CHAPTER 25
So far, the man had followed his lead without question. If he could just get him in the building … “Almost there.” He let them in and guided the man they called Frogman to the lower level. Hustling down stairs, he said, “Frogman—so, you were a Navy SEAL once.”
Their feet thudded against the steel steps.
“I wonder at your team. An interesting arrangement of men and experience.” Just one more floor. So close … Frogman hadn’t spoken yet. No doubt this diversion had the man sweating his decision to come with Azzan.
“Your silence tells me everything.” They reached the lower level, the basement, and he walked swiftly toward a steel door. He reached for the knob.
“Don’t move.” Frogman’s terse order slammed Azzan’s hopes to the ground.
Azzan turned around. Found a gun trained on him. His hopes plummeted. Even with the weapon holstered at his ankle, he wouldn’t have time to grab it before Frogman fired. He did not want to have to kill this man, but they could not play these games much longer.
“I’m not seeing a vehicle,” Max said, as he held his stance.
“Just beyond the door will explain everything.”
“You got me alone.” Max tilted his head. S
trong shoulder muscles. Arms. Biceps. Pectorals. The finger resting on the trigger. All these told Azzan the man was prepared to cut him down. “They won’t stick around if I don’t show up.”
“Exactly.”
A layer of confidence sheared off the man’s posture.
Azzan pointed to a small vent in the ceiling. “On my command, that vent will release a deadly toxin.” There could be no other way. “All I ask is that you let me enter this room. It will explain everything.”
As Colton shoved Baba into the corner, he took a rigid defensive posture, peering out the window into the night.
Piper hurried to her father and huddled with him. Not only for the comfort of her father’s touch, but also for the strength she drew from being near Colton. Even when he wasn’t speaking to her. She’d overheard little of what Baba had said to him, their voices whispered and low out of necessity because of their situation.
“Two in my sights,” Colton hissed to the other men, who also relayed information. In total, they’d tallied close to a dozen.
Colton glanced at her. His gaze sharpened. “Get back!” He thrust a hand back toward the middle of the house. “Go. Now!”
Scrambling to draw her father with her, Piper hurried around the curtain. She’d no sooner rounded the soft corner than the first crack of gunfire rang out.
“Taking fire!” Legend groused.
“Down, down, down!” the Kid rushed them and shoved them to the dirty floor. “Stay down or you’ll get hit.” On his belly, he crawled to the far corner, where he slid up against the wall and brought his weapon back up.
Crack! Thwat!
Her father wrapped his hands around hers. “We should pray, nachon?”
With a furtive glance back to the curtained area, she nodded. Wet her lips. “Yes.” For Colton. For all of them. “How did they find us?”
“Yeshua, we seek Your protection over these men, over our bodies and minds. Guide their bullets to the targets of those who oppose us and seek to wipe out Your people.”