Promised Land

by Robert Whitlow

  Rahal thought for a moment. “The Egyptians would manufacture a story about a kidnapping as a ruse to throw off anyone who is after Kolisnyk. Remember, I thought the Egyptians were going to take him to Cairo so he could work for them.”

  “Maybe, but the lawyer believes Kolisnyk was kidnapped. He claims the high-level official he spoke with at the police department would tell him otherwise.”

  Rahal twirled the fringe of the white robe that covered his arms. “Sayyid may be the man Mustafa saw approach Kolisnyk at the restaurant earlier that evening,” he said.

  “Yes. Our solicitor is going to send me a link to a video posted on social media involving an argument between Kolisnyk and the man at the restaurant. He says a security guard also got involved. The Egyptian police used the video to somehow link Sayyid to the Kolisnyks and Mustafa. The lawyer says it’s going to take more money to find out why.”

  Rahal set his jaw. “The lawyer in Sharm el-Sheikh is robbing us. He already knows the answer.”

  “Should I pay him?”

  The rapidly moving sandstorm was now receding across the horizon. Doha would be spared a messy cleanup. Rahal stood up. “Yes, but tell him this time we want everything.”

  * * *

  Exhausted, Daud slept during the flight from Amman to New York. It was early in the evening when he arrived in Atlanta and called Hana to let her know he was on the ground.

  “I’m inside the airport,” she said in Arabic and told him the location of the coffee shop where she was waiting.

  “That wasn’t necessary. I could have met you at the curb.”

  “Trust me,” Hana said.

  “Habibi, ya nour el ein,” Daud replied, which meant, “My love, you are the light of my eye.”

  “I wish I’d said it first.”

  “It’s better coming from the man.”

  Even though he was tired, there was anticipation in Daud’s step as he made his way through the crowded airport. He saw Hana before she saw him. She was wearing a casual blue dress that he liked. Without a doubt, Hana was the most beautiful woman on earth. She saw him, and a joyous welcome radiated from her smile. Daud jogged toward her and wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could without hurting her. It was several seconds before he lessened his grip and kissed her on the lips.

  “I missed you,” they both said simultaneously and then repeated it together again.

  Hana laughed and kissed Daud. They walked arm in arm. Hana chatted away about some of the things that had happened while he’d been away. He didn’t care what she said as long as he could listen to her voice. Suddenly, she stopped as they approached a row of exit doors.

  “Were you ever in danger?” she asked, turning toward him. “I tried not to worry too much, but you know it was impossible not to.”

  “There were some moments—” Daud began, thinking about the cut on his arm that he would have to explain to her later. “But I’m here with you.”

  They continued out of the airport.

  “Did you receive any extra attention from airport security?” Hana asked.

  “No, I breezed through passport control, even though—” Daud stopped.

  “What?” Hana asked, glancing sideways. “Can you tell me?”

  “I was traveling with false documents given to me as part of the mission.”

  Hana nodded. “Did they show that you were married?”

  Daud realized that his wedding ring was still in his pocket. He pulled it out and quickly slipped it on his finger. “No, I’m listed as single to avoid more questions that would require backup data. I’ll turn the documents in when I travel to Washington in a few days for a debriefing.”

  One of the things Daud had worked on in his mind during the ninety-minute flight from New York to Atlanta was a bluntly honest report for Charlie.

  “How long will that last?” Hana asked.

  “Only a day. As a contractor, I’m more on the periphery than when I worked for the Shin Bet in Israel.”

  Hana stopped. “Close your eyes and take me by the hand,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  Daud shut his eyes and let Hana guide him a few steps forward and then around a corner.

  “You can let go now,” she said.

  He smiled. “But I don’t want to.”

  “Open your eyes.”

  Daud opened his eyes. There was a row of vehicles in front of him. To the right was a blue minivan and to the left a brown pickup truck. Directly in front of him was a white Land Rover. Except for the color, it could have been a twin to the vehicle he drove when he lived in Jerusalem. Daud shook his head and blinked his eyes.

  “What?”

  “I bought it for you,” Hana announced, speaking rapidly. “Do you like it? We’ve been talking about you needing a car, and I know how much you loved the Land Rover you drove when we first met.”

  Daud looked it over and thought about the tense moments he’d spent in the rented vehicle as he tried to escape from Egypt.

  “What do you think?” Hana continued anxiously as Daud remained silent. “Is the color okay? I know it’s not green like your other one, but the dealer who helped me find it said that wouldn’t be important to a man.”

  “I, uh, it’s great,” Daud managed.

  “Oh.” Hana’s face fell.

  “No, no, no!” Daud gathered himself. “It looks like it’s in great shape. The color is fine. And I’m really glad you didn’t buy me a BMW.”

  “A BMW?”

  Daud laughed. He felt the tension and stress lurking in his soul draining out. Hana looked totally confused. Daud put his arm around her.

  “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

  * * *

  Hana awoke in the night and a split second later realized that Daud was sleeping soundly beside her. She sank back with relief into her pillow. Daud’s right arm was hidden beneath the covers. All he’d told her when he showed her the angry gash was that he’d had to unexpectedly defend himself, which caused panic to rise up inside Hana like an ocean wave. Daud promised to make an appointment with a doctor if it showed any signs of infection.

  Seated on the sofa, Hana took out her journal and began to record not her fears about Daud’s arm being infected but her thanks that Daud was alive. She quickly filled several lines with words of gratitude. Daud’s work had always been dangerous, yet necessary to save the lives of others. But now she was ready for the perilous times to end. Wanting to focus on something positive, she made an entry in her journal expressing appreciation to the Lord for bringing them together and followed this with a list of dreams for their future.

  Hana had wondered if marriage would diminish her sense of intimacy with the Lord because she now shared her love so deeply with another human being. The opposite had occurred. Daud’s love for her and hers for him had expanded her capacity to receive divine love. More love opened the door for more love that opened the door for more love in a beautiful paradox. Hana closed her eyes as a wave of deep peace washed over her. Even anxiety with a reason evaporated in the presence of all-encompassing grace and shalom.

  When she returned to bed Daud hadn’t moved an inch, and he remained asleep when Hana woke in the morning. She tiptoed into the kitchen to prepare the shakshuka she’d offered Sadie. Thirty minutes later a sleepy-eyed Daud appeared. He had a serious case of bed head, and his black hair stuck up at odd angles.

  “Do you want me to take out Leon?” he asked between yawns.

  “No, I’ll do it in a minute. Take a shower and comb your hair so I can recognize you.”

  Daud disappeared. He took long showers and loved standing motionless beneath hot water. By the time he returned wearing a blue cotton shirt and white shorts, breakfast was almost ready.

  “That’s much better,” Hana said, pointing to Daud’s head.

  He came over and kissed her. “You look beautiful no matter the time of day or night,” he said. “How do you do that?”

&
nbsp; Hana pointed to the coffeepot. “Fix a cup of coffee the way I like it while I decide whether to answer that question.”

  They ate at the small round table where Hana and Sadie had enjoyed pizza. She’d positioned the table in front of a large window so they could see the backyard.

  “Tell me every detail about buying the Land Rover,” Daud said. “I was in shock last night and didn’t react as I should have. I can’t remember seeing a true off-road vehicle like that since I came to America.”

  Hana told him about meeting Abdul Erakat at the Lebanese deli and how quickly the car dealer was able to put together a deal.

  “How did you pay for it?” Daud asked.

  “With my own money that I saved before we were married,” Hana answered with an edge in her voice.

  “I would have been glad to help pay for it too.”

  “But then it wouldn’t have been a present.”

  Daud reached across and touched Hana’s hand. “And like I said last night at the airport, it’s the best present I’ve ever received. I’m going to find a mountain road where a regular vehicle can’t go and take you all the way to the top.”

  Hana didn’t relish the thought of bouncing up and down on a rough road but generated a halfhearted smile. “We can have a picnic,” she said.

  They ate in silence for a few moments.

  “I’ve been thinking about another way to spend money,” Hana said. “What do you think about looking at houses?”

  “Now?” Daud asked, raising his eyebrows.

  Hana told him about her conversation with Sadie.

  “Where would you want to look?” Daud asked.

  Daud’s question was completely practical, but it touched a place of deep sadness in Hana’s heart. In Arab culture, family bonds were greater than all other allegiances, and clustering together communally was common. Hana’s large family believed strongly in this principle. However, because of Daud’s previous work for the Shin Bet, a place for the young couple in Israel was out of the question. The threats related to his undercover activities, particularly caused by his work in the Neumann case, were too great.

  “I don’t know,” she sighed.

  “Would it have to be in Atlanta?”

  “What do you mean? This is our home now.”

  Daud didn’t immediately respond. “You’re right,” he said. “This is the place to begin, but we need to save more money toward a down payment. I’m not comfortable with the America way of borrowing all the money for a home and then paying so much interest on the debt. I’m glad you didn’t borrow any money to buy the Land Rover and should have made that clear. But can we buy a vacant lot and build a house over an eight- or nine-year period like your father did?”

  “Most places wouldn’t allow that kind of delay,” Hana said doubtfully. “American construction laws are different. I’m just so glad you’re home that I don’t want to think about anything else.”

  She took her plate into the kitchen. Daud followed with his.

  “Do you want to leave Leon with me?” he asked. “I don’t have any plans except to go for a run.”

  “No, he’s already on the schedule for the kennel, and you need a day to relax. How does your arm feel?”

  Daud glanced down at the cut. It was red and somewhat inflamed, perhaps because of the time he’d spent in the water searching for Artem Kolisnyk. “I think it will be fine.”

  “Remember your promise to call the doctor if it gets infected.”

  Chapter 12

  After Hana left for work, Daud logged in to his business email account. There were inquiries from two US companies interested in his services. One was from a company in South Carolina marketing solar energy technology to Israel and Jordan. He sent a reply requesting more details. He then sent Charlie a secure email notifying him of his return to Atlanta. Thirty minutes later the CIA officer responded with the time and place for a meeting two days later in Washington to debrief about the Sharm el-Sheikh mission. Daud looked up the address for the building and pulled it up on Google Earth. It was in a nondescript office park several miles from the center of the city. Not surprising. Covert operations weren’t always based at the CIA’s headquarters in Langley, Virginia. Daud booked a flight.

  Putting on his running shorts, shirt, and shoes, Daud drove the Land Rover to the access point for a series of trails that paralleled the Chattahoochee River, a broad waterway that flowed through the metropolitan area. Daud was a strong, muscular man, and his running style was thunderous, not light-footed. He could wear out a pair of running shoes in three months or less. One thing he’d enjoyed since moving to Atlanta was running through deciduous forests that didn’t exist in the Middle East. The canopy of leaves overhead created a kaleidoscope of sunny patterns on the ground. The physical exertion quieted competing thoughts and enabled him to focus. He returned to his brief conversation with Hana about buying a house.

  The possibility of living in Israel was taboo to Hana because Daud couldn’t guarantee her that the people who wanted him dead were out of the picture. But America still felt like a temporary way station, not a long-term destination. Jerusalem was the place on earth that owned his heart. Financially, it would be difficult for them to have a place of their own in Jerusalem. The Holy City’s popularity with diaspora Jews from all over the world made it a very expensive place to live. A house was out of the question, but an apartment in a large building could be an option. They would need to avoid Beit Hanina, the Arab neighborhood where Daud lived when he worked as a private investigator and undercover agent for the Shin Bet. Not many Jerusalem neighborhoods had a significant mix of Jews and Arabs, but there were a few exceptions, including the French Hill area where Hana had lived when she attended Hebrew University. A modest apartment for two in French Hill, while extremely pricey by Atlanta standards, would be reasonable in Israel.

  Five miles into the run, Daud reached a turnaround spot at the edge of the river. It was a place where weekend rafters would take out boats and inner tubes after floating in the slow-moving current. Today there were a couple of pickup trucks in the parking lot but no sign of people. Daud paused to look across the broad expanse of the river. He felt his cell phone vibrate. It was the number for Hana’s law firm. Usually she called him directly from her cell phone.

  “Did you lose your phone?” he asked in Arabic.

  “Excuse me,” a man replied in English. “This is Leon Lowenstein.”

  “Hello,” Daud said in English. “I thought it was Hana calling.”

  “Sure. I understand you’ve been out of town for a couple of weeks. Welcome back.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did Hana mention the interfaith forum we’re sponsoring about Israel?”

  “No.”

  Daud listened as Mr. Lowenstein described the purpose of the gathering and Hana’s role in it. Even though he’d just been thinking about living in Israel, Daud was immediately concerned about her safety.

  “With her unique perspective, the attendees will hear vital insights,” Mr. Lowenstein continued. “And I was wondering if you’d be interested in organizing security. Hana told me that’s what you’ve been doing for the past few months. We’d pay you market rate.”

  Event security wasn’t really Daud’s area of expertise.

  “I mostly work with companies setting up offices in the Middle East,” he replied and then pulled out an English phrase he’d recently added to his professional lexicon. “I create long-term protocols for businesses.”

  “This would be easy compared to that. Everything would be local. Talk it over with Hana and let me know. I’d like to give you the business.”

  The call ended. During the rest of the run, Daud didn’t think about apartments in Jerusalem. He thought about the significant security needs for a crowd of two to three thousand people. In Israel such a large gathering would mandate sophisticated metal detectors and screening stations for everyone wanting to enter the venue. Suspicious persons would be profiled and subjected
to closer scrutiny. Even with the changes implemented since 9/11, America remained an open and vulnerable society. And for Hana to speak publicly about Israel and the relationship between Arabs and Jews was inviting serious trouble.

  * * *

  “How does it feel to have your man back in the nest?” Janet asked.

  “It’s a small nest, and he’s a big bird,” Hana answered with a smile. “But because it’s Daud, I don’t mind being crowded.”

  “You should seriously think about finding a larger home. That tiny place is barely bigger than a backyard playhouse.”

  “It’s fine for now.”

  “Not if Leon gets any bigger or you do too.” Janet patted her stomach.

  Hana’s eyes widened.

  “I know it’s none of my business,” Janet quickly continued. “But I’ve told you before what a great mother you’ll be when you decide it’s time to take that step.”

  Hana laughed. “How do you expect me to work after this conversation? All I’ll be able to think about is a bigger house and how to decorate the nursery.”

  Inside her office, Hana hummed a melody from her childhood. It was a song her mother sang to her. The simple lyrics focused on familial love and joy. Having a baby and buying a new house were much bigger decisions than purchasing a used Land Rover.

  Shortly before noon, Hana received a phone call from Jakob Brodsky. The first thing he did was ask about Daud.

  “It’s great that he’s home safe and sound,” Jakob said. “I know you’re relieved.”

  “Yes.”

  “I wanted to give you a quick update on our case for Vladimir Ivanov.”

  “When did it become our case?”

  “Anytime two people share lamb seasoned with curry sauce, there’s an instant bond.”