“You worked Mrs. Zarkawi like a violin virtuoso,” Avi observed after they said good-bye to Daniella Rubin and were inside his car.
“I wasn’t trying to be manipulative.”
“You didn’t have to try. When you mentioned righteousness and justice, I thought I was listening to a message from a rabbi on Yom Kippur.”
Avi started the engine and pulled away from the curb. Hana called Jakob. It was early morning in the US, and he was at home. Hana could hear the sounds of a soccer match on TV in the background. Jakob followed the premier Russian soccer league.
“Turn down the volume on the football match and listen,” she said in English.
“I like it when an American calls it football,” he replied.
“I’m not American.”
“And the football part of me is still Russian.”
The soccer match faded into the background.
“I just left Mrs. Zarkawi’s house,” Hana said. “Should I start with the beginning or the end?”
“The end. I hate suspense except when it’s Spartak playing CSKA Moscow.”
She told him about Mrs. Zarkawi’s proposal.
“My next call will be to Vladimir. What are the chances Mrs. Zarkawi will be able to deliver?” Jakob asked.
Hana relayed the question to Avi and put the phone on speaker. The art dealer slowed to a stop at a red light.
“Fifty-fifty,” he said.
“If Vladimir gives me the okay, I’ll want to nail this down before you leave Jerusalem. Does she know about the other items on the inventory list?”
“I can give her a copy.”
“What does Daud think about her?”
“He had a business meeting in the West Bank and wasn’t able to join us. Mrs. Zarkawi said she can be available tomorrow if you get back to me soon.”
“Will do.”
A minute later Avi’s phone beeped. He passed it to Hana. “It’s Daud,” he said.
“Why is he calling you, not me?” she asked with a puzzled expression on her face.
* * *
The minivan contained an Arab family of six. They didn’t pay attention to Daud as they piled out of the vehicle and hurried across the parking lot toward a convenience store. Daud turned the ignition key of the bullet-riddled car. The motor sputtered a couple of times and then went dead. Daud patted the dashboard. When he did, he noticed another hole, most likely from a bullet fired when he was leaning over and driving blind away from the ambush.
A couple minutes later the Arab family emerged from the store. This time the mother, who was wearing a dark-blue head covering, noticed Daud’s vehicle and eyed it and him suspiciously. She motioned to her husband, who was preoccupied with a little girl protesting about something. Daud didn’t want to answer any questions from anyone, but there was no way to roll up a window that was no longer there. The man glanced in Daud’s direction and called out to his wife.
“It’s none of our business. Get in the van.”
The family left the parking lot. Thirty minutes later a dark-gray sedan with Israeli license plates entered and parked beside him. A young Jewish man wearing a small brown kippah got out and showed Daud his Shin Bet identification card. His name was Gad Kopeck.
“You’re not hurt or wounded?” he asked with a look of amazement in his eyes.
“No.”
“A tow truck is on the way to get your car.”
“It’s a rental.”
“Grab the paperwork so I can give it to Aaron. He’ll take care of it.”
Daud retrieved the rental agreement from the glove box. The paperwork was as pristine as when the agent handed it to him at the airport.
“Where do you want me to take you?” the man asked.
Daud gave him the name of the hotel in the German Colony but then wondered if it was safe. He tried to remember if he’d mentioned where he and Hana were staying to Hosni Chatti but couldn’t.
“I just want to pick up my suitcase,” he said. “The hotel location may be compromised.”
They sailed through the Qalandiya checkpoint without being questioned when the driver showed the border patrol guard his identification.
“Call this number and give a recorded statement about what happened,” Gad said, handing Daud a slip of paper with a phone number on it.
After he finished, Daud called a small hotel in the Rehavya neighborhood not far from Talbiya to see if he and Hana could stay there. There were no vacancies. Two more calls were unfruitful. They reached the German Colony hotel. Daud quickly packed his and Hana’s suitcases while Gad waited outside the room. The room seemed undisturbed.
“Where now?” Gad asked once Daud checked out.
“I have a friend in Yemin Moshe. Maybe we can stay with him.”
Not sure of Hana and Avi’s status, Daud phoned the art dealer. “Where are you?” he asked Avi.
“Driving Hana back to your hotel. We had a good meeting with Mrs. Zarkawi—”
“Don’t take her to the hotel,” Daud interrupted. “Would it be all right if we meet at your house?”
“My house?”
“Yes.”
Daud heard Avi relate the request to Hana.
“She wants to talk to you,” Avi said to Daud.
“Not until I see her.”
During the short drive to Yemin Moshe, Daud’s apprehension skyrocketed as imaginary conversations with Hana ricocheted through his mind. Thankfully, they arrived before Hana and the art dealer.
“Park there,” Daud said and pointed. “Once they arrive, I’ll get the luggage and you can leave. Thanks for your help.”
“It’s my job.”
As soon as he saw Avi’s car, Daud walked around to the trunk that Gad had popped open. He placed the suitcases on the curb. Once he lowered the lid, Gad quickly drove away. Hana hurried over to Daud and began to pepper him with questions.
“What happened to the rental car?” she asked. “Who was that, and why did you pick up our luggage from the hotel? Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” Daud reassured her, glancing up and down the street. “But there’s been a change in plans. I’ll explain inside the house.”
Daud picked up the two large suitcases, and Hana followed with her small carry-on. Avi unlocked the front door. After Hana entered, Daud leaned over and whispered to Avi, “I need to talk to Hana alone for a few minutes.”
“Of course. You can use the bedroom where you stayed the last time you visited. If you need a place to spend the night, it’s available.”
Daud dropped off the luggage in the salon to the left of the front door and took Hana’s hand. She pulled it away.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“Please, I’ll explain once we’re upstairs.”
Daud led the way to the small bedroom with the window that overlooked the courtyard of the adjacent residence. He pushed back the curtain and peered out the window for a moment before turning toward Hana, who was still standing by the door.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked anxiously. “Are you injured?”
“Please, sit.” Daud motioned to a single chair near the foot of the bed.
“I’d rather stand,” she replied.
Daud stepped closer to her and did his best to give her a reassuring look. “There was an attack on the road near Al-Bireh,” he said. “I’m okay, but the car was damaged. I called Aaron Levy, and he sent an agent to pick me up. The Shin Bet will take care of the car and deal with the rental agency. They’ve already opened an investigation.”
Hana hid her face in her hands and began to sob. Daud waited for a moment and then sat on the edge of the bed. When Hana sniffled a couple of times, he prepared to continue his explanation, but more sobs followed. He felt tears sting the corners of his own eyes. Hana lifted her head and faced him. Her eyes were red.
“I need a tissue,” she managed.
Daud found a box in the bathroom and handed it to her. She grab
bed several. Her breathing continued to be interrupted by crying. Finally, she seemed to settle down.
“What happened? And don’t leave anything out. I want the truth.”
Daud’s plan to insulate Hana from how close he’d come to death evaporated. She positioned herself in the chair. Beginning with the industrial park near Ramallah, Daud spoke in a matter-of-fact manner, as he had when he recorded the summary for Aaron Levy. When he reached the point of the first bullet that shattered the driver’s-side mirror, Hana put her hands over her face again, and he stopped. Daud could see her taking big breaths in and out. She lowered her hands and put them on her belly. Daud immediately knelt in front of her.
“I’m here with you,” he said. “I’m not hurt.”
“But you could have been killed!”
“Yes. There’s no doubt God sent his angels to protect me.”
Hana blew her nose. “Go ahead.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, and remember, the truth.”
Describing what happened brought the attack vividly back to Daud. He paced back and forth as he talked. Hana stared straight ahead with her hands by her sides as she listened. He reached the detail of entering the parking lot near the old Atarot Airfield.
“That’s when I called Aaron, and he sent a field agent to pick me up. I thought we should leave the hotel in the German Colony. Avi has offered for us to stay here. Would you like to do that?”
Hana looked up at him. “Couldn’t that put him and his wife in danger?” she asked in a trembling voice.
Daud hesitated. “Possibly, but not likely. Since the men behind the attack failed, they’ll try to disappear. That’s why someone phoned in a phony report about a dispute between shepherds as an explanation for the gunshots. Aaron’s men will conduct their own investigation.”
“It was the Chechens,” Hana said flatly.
“Maybe.”
Fire flashed in her eyes. “Are there other people wanting to kill you that I don’t know about?”
“No,” Daud responded quickly, then paused. “Or at least I don’t think so.”
“Whoever did this knew you were coming and had time to plan.”
“I’m almost one hundred percent sure the man who identified himself as Hosni Chatti was involved,” Daud said. “He was always very insistent on knowing my specific plans. I chalked it up to his personality.”
Hana rubbed her temples with her fingers. “I can’t think anymore,” she said. “All I want to do is go home.”
“Would it help if you rested?”
“I’ll shut my eyes, but I’m not going to be able to rest until I’m in my own bed in Atlanta.”
“I’ll be downstairs with Avi.”
Chapter 34
After Daud left, Hana’s body began to shake. It started with her shoulders and quickly spread throughout her body. She managed to climb onto the bed and lie on top of the covers until the shaking subsided. She took several deep breaths and offered up a silent, desperate prayer that seemed to travel no farther than the ceiling.
Closing her eyes, she felt the trembling start to return. “Help!” she called out, the sound louder to her ears than it actually was.
To her surprise, the sound of her voice had a slight soothing effect.
“Yes, please help,” she said in a softer tone. “I need help. We need help.”
The threat of trembling retreated. Hana was able to bring to mind words and phrases that had sustained and strengthened her in the past: Never will I leave you nor forsake you; the Lord your God is your strength and shield; the name of the Lord is a strong tower; no weapon formed against you shall prosper, and others. The flow of divine words washed over her until she drifted off to sleep.
Hana woke suddenly and checked her watch. She’d been asleep for almost an hour. She decided she would splash some water on her face and freshen up a bit, then go downstairs to find Daud.
* * *
Daud sat at the kitchen table while Avi ground coffee beans and pressed them into the brewing basket of an old espresso machine that whistled and sputtered as it brewed the coffee. Daud’s thoughts weren’t in the kitchen but upstairs in the room where he’d left Hana.
“Would you like an espresso?” Avi asked. “I buy the beans from a supplier who gets them directly from Colombia and roasts them himself. I think it’s the best coffee in Jerusalem.”
“Uh, sure,” Daud said absentmindedly.
Avi set a cup of frothy brown liquid in front of him. He’d created a tree design with the cream. Daud usually drank coffee black and unadorned but took a sip. The espresso was better than he’d expected, most likely due to the quality of the beans. Avi joined him at the table.
“Should we sit in silence, or do you want me to tell you everything that happened with Mrs. Zarkawi?” the art dealer asked. “It’s your call.”
“Go ahead.” He listened as Avi relayed the events at the house in Talbiya. Daud tried hard to engage, but his mind wandered, and he had to ask Avi several times to repeat what he’d said.
“Are you in shock?” Avi asked after the third time Daud asked him to repeat himself.
“Everything’s different when you’re married,” Daud replied.
“That’s true.”
Daud drank the final drops of his coffee. “Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll make myself focus.”
Avi reached the part about the Bar Kokhba coins and Daniella Rubin’s assessment that the lyre coin was part of the Ivanov collection.
“You would have been proud of Hana. She didn’t let Mrs. Zarkawi intimidate her and somehow got behind the old woman’s defenses. By that point Mrs. Zarkawi was beginning to genuinely like Hana. I mean, what’s not to like? Hana called Jakob on the way over here, and he’s going to check with his client before giving the go-ahead for a contract agreeing to Mrs. Zarkawi’s terms. If she can deliver the queen’s head, the Bar Kokhba coin will be a small price to pay.”
“Yes.” Daud nodded. “When I left Hana upstairs, all she wanted to do was return to America.”
“But she mentioned the two of you driving up to surprise her family in Reineh.”
“She doesn’t want or need any more surprises in her life. And I don’t have a car to drive anywhere.”
“What happened to your rental? Did you have a wreck? I’ve totaled two cars, and Rachel is always telling me how to drive.”
“No, it wasn’t a wreck.”
Avi opened his mouth to speak but shut it.
Daud looked directly into the art dealer’s eyes. “When I told you my visits to Jerusalem had to be confidential, it was a serious request.”
Avi nodded slowly. “Does it have to do with the complicating factors you mentioned when you were still in America?”
“Yes, which have become more complicated. Now my carelessness has created a very dangerous situation for everyone who gets close to me.”
Avi sighed. “I’m sorry for your troubles. But my invitation for you and Hana to stay here remains open.”
“I appreciate that, but you don’t know the risk it could bring to you and Rachel.”
* * *
Rahal stood seventy meters from the target. He took a deep breath and pulled the bow string until the arrow rested against his right ear. He exhaled and released the arrow. It arced through the air and completely missed the target. Rahal cursed under his breath. It was his third miss in a row. He’d not been able to push aside the news delivered minutes earlier by Khalil that Daud Hasan had escaped the ambush in the West Bank. Yanis, the chauffeur’s son, prepared to run across the field.
“Go,” Rahal said to the boy. “But only bring back the arrow that pierced the outer ring of the target.”
Yanis sprinted off. Rahal turned to Khalil.
“The Chechens didn’t send any of their own men,” Khalil said. “They recruited locals. The Palestinian media reported it as an incident involving a dispute between shepherds.”
“Once the Jews talk to Hasan they will know
better.”
“Certainly, but the men will blend back into their village. Unless someone talks, they should be safe.”
“Who cares about them?” Rahal barked. “They failed!”
The boy reached the target and pulled out the arrow. He turned and started running back toward them.
“Where is Hasan now?”
“We don’t know,” Khalil answered. “He never responded to my texts after the attack.”
“Of course not.”
“But our communication was untraceable. Even if he enlists the help of his Jewish or American friends, the phone will lead them to the UAE and nowhere else.”
Rahal flipped the string of the bow with his finger. Yanis returned with the arrow.
“Go to the car and bring me a cold drink,” Rahal said to the boy. “Your father will know what I want.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rahal started walking forward to the fifty-meter mark.
“Eventually Hasan will show up in America,” Khalil said. “I am ready to go and die there in jihad to eliminate him.”
“I honor your desire,” Rahal replied. “What do we know of Kolisnyk’s whereabouts?”
“Nothing yet. The Americans have hidden him away and likely given him a new identity.”
Rahal swore again. His anger was growing.
“Hasan is a professional and is going to be hard to target,” Khalil continued. “But there are other options.”
“What are you saying?”
“Strike where there is weakness. I’ve been doing some research. Hasan’s wife is going to speak at a public event in Atlanta. I’ve read the promotional materials. There will be hundreds of Jews and their friends present. That would be the time and place for us to act. It’s likely Hasan will be there as well. Even if he’s not, it would be worth it to kill his wife along with many other infidels.”
“There will be security at the venue.”
“Yes, but the Americans are sloppy. It’s going to take place in a hotel with many entrances.” Khalil paused. “Its purpose is to bring faiths together. There will be Sunnis, Jews, and Christians there to speak about religious issues in Palestine.”
Rahal grunted. “If the Sunnis and Christians want to be with the Jews in this life, they can join them in the next one. But I don’t want you to go. Talk to the Yemenites and develop a plan around them.”
Promised Land Page 28