by J C Ryan
The hospital staff proved both kind and helpful. Steven, Mary, Ray, and James were all allowed to see Carter and were directed to his Unit. Although he was still in a coma, he was not in the critical care unit anymore. He had been moved to a private room earlier in the day where he was still under close observation.
The Nursing Unit Manager led them to Carter’s room while giving them an update on his condition. He was making steady progress, and they expected him to come out of the coma within the next 10 to 15 hours. Although they tried to steel themselves for what they were about to see, they were again traumatized when they looked down on his pale form under the white sheet on the hospital bed. There seemed to be tubes and wires everywhere, and he was so still that the beeping monitors and barely noticeable breaths were the only signs of life. The mask on his bruised and lacerated face, the cast on his arm, and a leg in traction were just too much for all of them. They looked at him in horror; none of them had expected things to look as bad as they did. They all struggled to contain their emotions.
The Charge Sister told them that the doctor who operated on Carter was busy in surgery, but would come to see them as soon as he was finished.
They pulled up chairs and sat down, facing Carter’s bed. What else could they do but watch and wait, and hope, and pray?
James was quiet and pensive. How am I going to tell Carter?
When James got to the hotel earlier, he contacted Director Patrick on the secure satellite phone to let him know they had arrived and to get the latest news. Hunter told him that the death and injury toll had been completed. It was established that several of the victims would never be found because their bodies instantly disintegrated in the explosion. Mackenzie and Liam’s bodies were not among those that had been retrieved from the rubble. Therefore, the dread was that they were among those that had vanished with the impact of the explosion.
Carter won’t even have his family to bury. There is nothing left. Jim grieved silently for his friend.
He decided to wait until he had official confirmation before telling the Andersons. For now, it would be better not to add to their sorrow.
A soft groaning sound escaped from Carter’s lips. They jumped up and approached his bed. Could it have been their imagination? The monitors kept their regular rhythms; nothing appeared to have changed.
The Charge Sister told them it was clear he'd been blown backward and apparently his head had smashed against a wall, or door, or some other solid object. The impact cracked his skull and caused severe bruising of his brain as it hit the bone. The force of impact was not just to the back of the brain, but also to the front as it bounced forward. James still wondered if somehow Carter already knew Mackenzie and Liam were dead and wasn't prepared to come out of the coma to face it. He couldn’t blame him if that were the case.
There were questions that had to be asked and answered, and James had no idea where to start. His thoughts raced, but he had no answers. The reality was, this was Israel, it was the Middle East, the breeding ground for the worlds’ most vicious and barbaric terrorists, and most of them had only one aim – to destroy the state of Israel.
He’d gone over everything he and Carter had been working on. They were both aware it could prove dangerous, but there had been no indication of any threat.
The same was true for Mackenzie. Yes, she too could be in some danger, but again there had been no sign of danger.
While James and Ray slowly paced the room, Mary got up and washed Carter’s face and hands with a cold cloth.
***
A strange but vaguely familiar smell registered in Carter’s brain. What is it? Where have I smelled this scent before? The hospital! Mackenzie was in the hospital. It was when Liam was born.
He tried to open his eyes. I’ve been dreaming. His eyes were open. People were standing by talking quietly. There was something over his mouth and nose, his throat was dry, and no sound came out of his mouth when he tried to talk. He struggled to sit up, but couldn’t.
I have to wake up. He moved his arm and blinding pain shot through his head and body. He couldn’t move. A wheezing sound escaping his lungs brought the four people in the room close to the side of his bed. They all looked shocked, pale, and shaky. What’s wrong?
“Mary, Steven, Ray … Jim?” His voice was hoarse and muffled. His head was spinning, and confusion was distorting his thoughts. They couldn’t hear him. He tried to look around the room, but couldn’t move his head.
Mary pushed the call button for the nurse. Seconds later a doctor and two nurses arrived. Carter was struggling to sit up, to wake up out of his dream, but every time he tried, agony forced him back. His arms and legs wouldn’t move. His right arm was held in a cast and his left leg anchored by traction. A neck brace prevented him from moving his head. Panic and claustrophobia were rapidly taking over as full consciousness drew near.
Mary saw the anguish in his eyes when he realized that he was awake, and this was real. He closed his eyes again.
“Professor Devereux! Can you hear me?” He didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to answer. The nurse had a hand on his shoulder. “Professor Devereux! Can you hear me?” If you can hear me, move your fingers, please.”
The doctor took over. He opened Carter’s eyelids, and shone a bright light into his eyes to check for pupil reaction; it hurt. “He’s awake.” He removed the oxygen mask.
Carter opened his eyes again and managed to turn his head slightly to the right to look at Mary, Steven, Ray and James. His lips formed words, and a faint whisper followed, “Where am I? What happened?”
“You’re in the hospital Carter. You’ll be alright.” Mary said.
He frowned "Alright? What happened?” He whispered.
Mary’s face was drawn with grief as she looked at him. “There was a bomb, an explosion …” Her whole body started shaking; she buried her face in her hands and turned away.
Carter saw tears on Steven’s cheeks, hollowness in Ray’s eyes, and Jim looked ghastly as well. Then he remembered. He tried to see past them. “Mackie! Liam! Where are they? Oh God please!”
Steven stepped close to the bed and took Carter's hands in his; he looked deep into Carter's eyes and quietly shook his head.
Carter’s whole body convulsed and his scream echoed through the hospital, “Nooooo!” The excruciating pain that exploded through his body and soul sent him back into a coma. He didn’t feel the stab of the needle that entered his arm sending him back into blessed oblivion.
“We'll keep him sedated for a few days.” The doctor said, “Right now his body is too fragile to handle the emotional stress of the loss. We need to give his body a chance to get stronger before he will be able to face and deal with the horror of it all.”
“Will he get through this?” James asked. “Will he recover?”
The doctor took off his glasses and polished them. James decided it was what the doctor did whenever he was faced with a difficult question. “It’s too early to say, Mr. Rhodes. “He will survive the injuries, yes. The scans showed internal bleeding, and that has been stopped. His arm and leg are fractured, but they will heal with time. He has a severe concussion, which will slowly reduce over time, and the hairline fracture at the back of his skull will also eventually heal. He is young and fit, and I’m confident his body will recover completely. What I can’t give you is any prognosis for his psychological and emotional wellbeing. That might take years, and even then he could be left with invisible scars.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Steven murmured.
“Mr. and Mrs. Anderson,” The doctor said as he walked around the bed to them, “you have my heartfelt sympathy for your daughter and grandson. I wish there were more I could do.” He held on to their hands for a moment and then left the room. The two nurses remained at Carter’s bedside adjusting and recording readings from the beeping equipment.
Mary, Steven, Ray, and James said nothing; they just nodded slowly while they stared at Carter’s broken body.
Chapter 4 -
Until I see their dead bodies
Three days after the bomb explosion
The next morning, shortly after breakfast, they were picked up by Joseph Carry and transported to the offices of the Consulate General of the United States where they would meet with Mathew Thompson, one of the senior staff members.
The U.S. Consulate in Jerusalem, an independent diplomatic mission, functioned similarly to an embassy in that it reported directly to the United States Department of State rather than an ambassador. The Jerusalem office was located in the Arnona neighborhood of Jerusalem and served Jerusalem, the West Bank, and the Gaza Strip.
On the way to the office, Steven, Mary, and Ray half-heartedly listened as Joseph gave them a brief history of the Consulate.
“It first opened in 1844. Back then it was in the Old City of Jerusalem, inside Jaffa Gate, but now that is the Swedish Christian Study Center,” he informed them. “The office has moved several times over the years, but in 2010, it was finally established in the Arnona neighborhood of Jerusalem. During the First World War, this area was a ‘no man's land,’ an area neither of the warring sides wanted to enter for fear of causing a retaliating attack. It’s also very close to the ‘Green Line.’”
“Green Line?” Mary responded absently.
“Yeah. After the 1948 Arab-Israeli War, when they were drawing demarcation lines on the map during the talks for the Armistice agreements between Israel, Egypt, Jordan, Syria, and Lebanon, they used a pen with green ink.”
“Mmmh,” Mary responded.
On arrival at the consulate, they were immediately escorted to Thompson’s office. He was a tall man, in his early sixties, with salt and pepper hair, wearing gold frame glasses. He met them at the door and extended his condolences, assuring them of the full cooperation and support of the consulate.
Thompson guided them to a corner of his large office and encouraged them to sit in the comfortable chairs. He offered them something to drink before he sat down with them.
Looking at them he asked; “I trust it will be in order if I start by giving you all the information we have gathered thus far?”
They all nodded their heads in agreement.
“If you have any questions, please feel free to ask them.”
“Thank you,” James responded on behalf of them all.
Thomson continued and gave them the details. The rescue teams had completed their searches of the site and had retrieved 25 bodies. The injured amounted to 60. Mackenzie and Liam were not among the dead or wounded.
Steven and Mary stared at each other and then at Thompson. “Is there any chance they weren’t at the site when the bomb went off?” Steven inquired.
“It’s impossible to rule that out at this stage Mr. Anderson. I am sorry; I wish I could be more precise. The investigation team is still busy. They are in the process of attempting to identify eyewitnesses and gather information from them. It will take days, maybe weeks before they complete their work.”
Steven nodded. Until I see their dead bodies, they are alive.
Thompson looked uneasy when he cleared his throat to continue. “The next bit is hard to tell you.” He hesitated for a moment and then continued. “A team of forensic experts is now fine-combing the site for DNA evidence.” He paused to see if they understood the implications of what he just said.
“Why?” Mary asked. She was way past tears now and needed answers. Her daughter and grandson were dead, and she had to know why. She felt anger growing deep down inside her.
“A few reasons Mrs. Anderson,” Thompson replied. “They have to find out what type of explosives and triggering devices were used. That’s information that could lead them to the perpetrators. The next reason is that the bodies of the victims closest to the explosion have disintegrated due to the severity of the blast. DNA tests are the only way to …”
He was unable to continue as Steven let out a deep groan, “Oh my God! No!”
“I’m so sorry …” Thompson whispered. He waited in silence for a minute before continuing, “What I need to ask you both is if you are willing to give us a DNA sample? It could help a lot and possibly eliminate them both from the primary explosion site.”
James remained quiet. He had been listening carefully to Thompson and studying his body language to see if the man was hiding anything from them. When the meeting ended, James was sure that Thompson was hiding nothing.
Just before they stood to leave, Thompson told them that consulate staff had collected the Devereux family’s belongings from the hotel where they stayed and placed in it all in safe storage in the consulate’s vaults. “Would you like us to make arrangements for it to be shipped back to the States?”
The Anderson’s thanked him for that but suggested it be kept at the consulate until Carter could make a decision.
James had already arranged, the night before, with Director Patrick to ensure that Carter’s laptop and the contents of the hotel safe were separated from the rest of the belongings and delivered to him. He had to make sure that all classified information was removed and secured after which he would return it to the consulate.
Joseph drove them back to their hotel where he dropped the Andersons off. Later they would return to the hospital to be with Carter. James remained with Joseph, who would take him to a meeting he needed to attend in Tel Aviv.
***
James had two hours before his meeting in Tel Aviv and asked Joseph to take him to the site of the explosion. Although he knew that he wouldn’t be allowed to set foot on the site itself, he might still be able to get an idea of the location and damage.
As expected, police had cordoned off the site, and it was heavily guarded. A team of forensic experts was meticulously sifting through the rubble and collecting information. He was able to get right up to the secured perimeter, about 20 yards from the site where he was able to view it from different angles while moving along the barricades.
The Downtown Triangle, also known as ‘The Triangle,’ was the central commercial and entertainment district of Jerusalem. It was Jerusalem’s most famous area and covered more than three hundred thousand square feet with an open-air pedestrian mall, many outdoor cafes, souvenir shops, and the Zion Square.
The explosion happened at a corner café on the ground floor of a four-story building.
The last bomb explosion was fifteen years ago in 2001. Before that, various terror groups had targeted the area on numerous occasions, due to its central location and the high number of visitors it received.
In 1948, three British Army trucks driven by British deserters, led by an armored car driven by Arab irregulars exploded on Ben Yehuda Street killing 58 Jewish civilians and injuring 140 others. Since then, many more had been killed and maimed in subsequent attacks in the Triangle.
However, since the last attack in 2001 when the Israeli government placed security measures in the area, it was believed to be one of the safest places in Jerusalem to visit – until three days ago.
James shook his head as he took pictures with his cell phone from different angles. The place resembled a mini version of the Twin Towers’ ground zero after the 9/11 terrorist attacks in New York.
Seeing the devastation and trying to reconstruct the explosion in his mind as best he could, he concluded that the death and injury toll was surprisingly low. The only reason he could think of was that it was still early in the evening when the bomb exploded, and there were not many people around the restaurant at the time. He had no doubt in his mind that no one inside the establishment at the time of the explosion would have escaped alive. Where was Carter when the bomb went off? And where were Mackenzie and Liam?
Maybe his meeting in Tel Aviv would provide the answers.
Half an hour later, he returned to the car where Joseph was patiently waiting for him.
Chapter 5 -
A very unusual request
James watched the main entrance of the coffee shop. Seated with his back to the wall, he had
a view of the entire place, and he studied everyone inside as well as everyone coming and going.
He was five minutes early for his meeting with the man from The Institute. ‘The Institute’ was the short and the literal English translation for the Hebrew word Mossad. The full Hebrew name HaMossad leModiʿin uleTafkidim Meyuḥadim translated to mean ‘The Israeli Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations’ – the most feared secret service agency in the world. Along with Aman, military intelligence, and Shin Bet, internal security, Mossad was one of the three key units of the Israeli Intelligence Community. Mossad was tasked with intelligence collection, covert operations, and counterterrorism.
Ben Friedman, the man who had just walked through the door, was an old acquaintance from James’ days as a CIA operative. He owed James a huge favor that James was about to call in.
Ben, five ten and a bit overweight, was in his mid-fifties - about the same age as James. He was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, with a baseball cap on his bald head. There was nothing in his demeanor or clothing that would give away the fact that he was one of the Mossad’s senior secret agents. In the past five years, he had been promoted out of the field to lead a team of field agents out of an office in Mossad’s headquarters in Tel Aviv.
“Jim, my friend, it has been too long!” Ben smiled as he approached and extended his hand. After shaking hands with James, he took a step back and looked at his old friend who saved his life many years ago during a covert operation in South America. “Jim, I see the years have been kind to you. It must be that lovely wife of yours that you always told me about that is keeping you in such good shape.”
“Yeah Ben,” James laughed, “there is that, and I can see you haven’t lost your touch for flattery; either that or your eyesight must have taken a turn for the worse.” Laughing, Ben took a seat next to James; he also wanted to keep watch on everything. They ordered coffee and food and got all the niceties about family and health out of the way before they got to the main reason for their rendezvous.