Galia felt her head slam into the passenger side window, which shattered. Instinctively, she had put her hands over her face, and she felt the glass cut into them, the sharp pain causing her entire body to shake.
Doron managed, a few miles down the road, to bring the battered car to a screeching halt. He could see the other car speeding away as he turned the engine off.
He opened his door and stumbled out, as heavy raindrops hit him, obscuring his vision. He tried to catch a glimpse of the license plate before the car vanished into the gloom and memorize the number.
Galia, in the meantime, had not opened her eyes. Her eyelashes clung together as blood ran down from her forehead. When she tried to wipe it away, a cry of anguish escaped her lips. With great difficulty, she called out Doron’s name.
Doron suddenly realized that Galia was still inside the damaged car, that she was in fact trapped inside.
“Galia?” he called. He ran over to the passenger side and tried to open her door. “Galia, Galia, answer me. Can you hear me?” he asked as he saw the blood running down here face.
He opened her door and bent down towards her. Her hair was disheveled, and her breathing was labored. “Are you all right?” He shook her gently. Galia groaned in pain. He opened up the glove compartment and removed a box of tissues. He tried to clean the blood off her face very gingerly. “Galia? Talk to me. How do you feel? Can you move? Does anything else hurt?”
The tissue hurt her a great deal, and she tried to push his hand away. He delicately asked, “Did that hurt you?”
“No,” she lied.
“I know it did, I’m so sorry. I have to wipe away the blood so I can see how deep the cut is.” Though it was soft, his voice was deliberate and decisive, as Doron tried to hide how alarmed he was at her injuries. “Okay, it’s a serious laceration. You’re gonna need some stitches, I’m afraid.” He stopped for a second. “We’re close to Meir Hospital. Let me take you there, to the ER. I’ll make sure they take care of you, then I’ll go on to Ben-Gurion.”
Galia tried to rouse herself. She breathed deeply, and looked at him a bit foggily. “No way are you going on without me. I’m coming with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve lost a lot of blood already, and you’ll just lose more if you don’t get immediate medical attention. We’re going to the hospital, period.”
Doron fastened her seatbelt and covered her with her coat. He removed the shards of glass from the door and gently shut it. Then he sat back in the driver’s seat and turned the key, hoping he could get the car to start again.
“I’ll turn the heat up, since we can’t close that window anymore.” He arranged her coat over her body as best he could, then turned the car back onto the highway.
Galia’s right hand hurt abominably. She tried to move it to adjust her coat, but to no avail. She groaned in pain again. Doron looked back at her. “Hold on. Are you all right?”
Galia was determined not to complain, as she knew that would just make Doron more determined to deliver her to the emergency room.
She bit her lip and swallowed. “Did you… did you see who was driving that car?” Perhaps some conversation could help her forget the pain which threatened to paralyze her.
“I know the make and model, but that was all I could catch. I’ll let Udi know. But for now, just relax and rest. We’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes.” He was trying to calm her down.
“Doron, no.” The pain was immense, but she didn’t want him to take her to the hospital. I have to be there when they find Shir, she thought. “Everything can wait. I’ll get treatment once I’m sure Shir is safe,” she continued.
Who knew better than she that Doron hated when people disagreed with him and didn’t do what he wanted? But she had no intention of missing the moment when he would find Shir. She had to be there, even if it was the last thing she did in her life.
Doron did not reply.
At Segula Junction, he suddenly turned in at the gas station. Galia looked at the gas gauge and saw that it was far from empty. He parked next to the Mint convenience store at the gas station, then got out without saying a word.
A few minutes later, he came back. He sat down and handed her a disposable cup. “Drink, warm up.”
After a few sips, Doron took the cup and put it by his feet. “Show me the cut,” he demanded impatiently.
Galia turned her head and looked at him. He opened the bag balanced on his knees. He had gotten a first aid kit from the shift manager in the store. With great skill, he put a bandage on her forehead and wrapped up the wound.
“Look, I can’t have you pass out from blood loss. If it’s tight, that’s good. Now lean back and close your eyes. I’ll wake you up when we make it to Ben-Gurion.”
Galia closed her eyes. Even the pain and the concern for Shir could not hold back the feelings aroused by his touch. He was sitting so close to her, but he was so far away. The radio he had turned on played relaxing nighttime music, and Galia wondered if Doron as well was reminded of forgotten things.
Chapter Fifteen
It was almost three in the morning when they arrived at the airport. There were just a few cars around, and traffic was very light. He touched her shoulder to wake her up. At the gate, Doron identified himself to a detective who had joined the regular guard. He did not wait longer than necessary, out of concern that he might arouse the suspicions of unseen observers. He knew that the policeman at the gate was there to warn the forces deployed in the field.
“Are you sure you have enough people here?” Galia asked in fear. “I don’t see even one police car.”
“It’s a good thing that you cannot see them. I hope your sister can’t see them either.”
They went on slowly, finally parking the car near Rimmon Gate, which was adjacent to Terminal Three.
“In this situation, I would suggest that you stay in the car, but I know there’s no point. You’re going to go in no matter what.” he said, frowning as they walked inside.
“That’s true, I wouldn’t be able to stand it in the car. You see, you do know me.” She was trying to make a joke, but it fell flat. Doron stared at her for a fraction of a second but said nothing.
He brought her to the second floor of the airport’s administrative building, where the security offices were located. It was a hubbub of activity, some personnel uniformed and others not, tension visible on their faces.
They entered one of the rooms, where they met the commander of the force and many other officers.
Galia looked around herself. She was surrounded by screens, and she realized that they were in the airport control room, from which they could observe what was happening in every corner.
Doron approached one of the officers. She noticed that he put some device up to his ear. She looked from one screen to another. There were not that many people in the terminal. A doubt began to gnaw at her heart: was Naama even at the airport? At such an early hour, with the place nearly deserted, how could her sister take the risk of being observed?
She glanced at the screens, considering all the passersby. No one looked like her. Looked like her? Galia’s heart leaped at the thought. She wondered how she would respond when she finally met her sister. She was still preoccupied with many questions, many mysteries. How could she look at her mirror image and know that the doppelgänger looking back at her was identical but so alien to her?
Doron came over to her and tested his device, which allowed him to hear and speak with the control room. “I’m going downstairs with everyone else. You stay here. You can watch and listen to everything that happens.”
“No, I want to be—”
“Gali, don’t argue with me. Just sit here quietly, and let us do our job. I asked them to watch over you. If you don’t feel well, just tell them.”
Galia agreed with Doron. She didn’t feel well, and now she realized
her dizziness was a result of the deep laceration as well as her exhaustion, which she could not shake off.
She sat by one of the screens. A young woman was in the seat next to her, focused on her computer. She wore a police uniform.
“Are you part of the team that just came here?” Galia asked.
“Yes, I’m in charge of communications for the team,” she replied.
“Doron said I could listen in. How does this work?”
“Hold on, I’m setting it up for you right now.”
The policewoman placed a device on Galia’s ear, allowing her to hear the conversations among the cops who were deployed throughout the airport.
The policewoman got up to get a coffee, beckoning Galia to join. “I’ve been ordered to look after you too. I understand you were injured on your way here.”
“Yeah, but I think I got off easy. If it had been any more serious, Doron would have insisted on taking me to the hospital. I barely managed to convince him to let me come here instead of the ER…” Galia smiled lightly.
“Yes, your husband is very stubborn, and that’s a good thing. Otherwise, he never would have found out all those things which the other investigators failed to.”
Galia wasn’t sure whether she should smile in agreement or not. Yes, Doron was stubborn. She prayed that his stick-to-itiveness and professionalism would allow him to catch her sister, wherever she was, and bring Shir back. However, Galia knew that once she got Shir back in her arms, it would be the moment of reckoning in which she would lose Doron. He would not forget, and he certainly would not forgive.
They filled their coffee cups and went back to sit down by the computers. Galia’s hand was still aching. She moved the sleeve of her blouse a little in order massage the painful area.
“Wow, it’s all blue. Is that from the accident? It’s swelling up.”
“Yeah, I think I must have twisted it when I raised my arm to protect my face.” As excruciating as the pain was, Galia tried to keep her voice even, not to give anyone a reason to decide she needed to be carted off to the hospital.
The policewoman grimaced. “Honey, I don’t think that’s a sprain. I think you broke your arm.” She looked around to see if there was anyone around to confirm her suspicion. “Does Doron know about your arm?”
Galia squirmed. “No, and don’t tell him now. He’s got enough to worry about now. I can deal with it until this is all over — happily, I hope.”
The policewoman seemed to disagree, but she was busy enough that she left Galia alone in the meantime. Galia dug through her bag and took out the pack of cigarettes she had thrown in before leaving the house some hours earlier.
The policewoman glanced at her. “Smoking is probably not a great idea in your condition.”
“It’s fine,” Galia dismissed her, lighting her cigarette.
The minutes ticked by. They listened to the cops’ conversations, updating their location periodically. Time passed at a crawl. Some of the officers in the room received updates from headquarters, about interrogating the dean of the yeshiva and the arrest of additional suspects, including a number of young men who had attacked law-enforcement personnel on the hilltop outpost adjacent to Ein Regev, as well a number of young women who had apparently cooperated with or known about and protected Naama. The telephones kept ringing the whole time. Galia caught snippets of conversation, but she spent most of her time trying to find Doron on the screen. Her exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, as her thinking grew foggy. By strength of will, she kept her eyes open. She could not rest whenever she thought about the possibility of finding Naama and Shir somewhere in the airport. Her head ached from the injury, her arm throbbed with unbearable pain. She tried to stand up; maybe walking around the room would make it easier, perhaps wake her up.
The policewoman next to her noticed her situation. “Mrs. Yellin, you don’t look good. Don’t get up, I’ll call Doron.”
“No, no, that’s not necessary. Don’t bother him. He has to find Shir,” she insisted.
Despite Galia’s request, the policewoman summoned Doron back to the control room. In less than a minute, Doron made it back. He came over to Galia and bent over her. “What happened? Are you feeling bad? Should I send someone to take you to the hospital? Or are you ready to take a deep breath and be as brave as you were earlier?” Galia detected some impatience in his tone.
Galia looked at him. More tears choked her. His words could give her the power to contend with anything, if she could just find some pity in them. He didn’t touch her, didn’t reach out a hand to her, nothing. She knew that he was very busy and tense. Was that why there was no softness left in his eyes?
“Yeah, a deep breath, that’s all I need.”
“Good girl,” he said, then left the room. Everyone around was busy with their own task.
Brave? She was brave? She had been shivering in terror from the moment it all started. If she really was brave, she would have told him from the start about Naama, not at the beginning of this affair but when they had first met. True, she had needed courage to do everything she had done tonight on the hilltop, but she had acted like anyone concerned for their life and the life of their family. She continued to watch the screens as she lit another cigarette, unaware of how pale she had become.
Now it was almost five o’clock in the morning. The screens were getting blurry, and Galia’s head almost slumped back out of weariness. No, she knew she couldn’t allow herself to fall asleep. She needed another cup of coffee. Her head and hand ached incessantly, while the nausea had only increased. One of the officers standing next to her, who was also making a cup of coffee, noted her distress.
“You need something?”
“Do you have anything for a headache? That would be a big help.”
He smiled with understanding and went to look for pain relievers. A few minutes later, he came back with two Tylenol. “That’s what I could find. I hope it helps. You look very pale.”
Galia swallowed the capsules with a cup of water he handed her. “It’s just the stress. I’ll be fine,” she tried to reassure him. Dragging her feet, she went back to her seat. The truth was that she was glad to move her legs a bit, but the overwhelming dizziness and the pain in her hand just got worse and worse, preventing her from moving around the room. Sitting in front of the screen and watching it tensely was killing her. The conversations over the comm, which she was quite interested in, gave her no rest.
“Gil, do you copy? This is Dov, I’m at the gate. A car just entered the airport. I’m not sure about it. The driver was a woman in her thirties; she seemed tense, but I don’t know why. She was alone, and she didn’t look like the picture. She was a blonde wearing glasses.”
“Yeah, we copy. It doesn’t sound like our suspect, but we’ll check it out. Thanks.”
Her eyes almost closed, Galia heard endless conversations of this sort. In her imagination, or maybe it was in a dream, she saw Shir running to her, in a great hall, surrounded by hundreds of people. She was crying, “Mommy, Mommy!”
She awoke suddenly. Sweat covered her entire body.
The policewoman next to her grinned. “You fell asleep for a bit, it’s not a big deal. You need your rest. Nothing interesting has happened yet. I don’t think your sister has made it to the airport yet.”
Galia shook her head. She was sure the policewoman was wrong. She had to clear out the cobwebs of sleep from her head, had to wake up. She lit another cigarette, and this time the policewoman joined her. Her eyes were burning from staring at the screens. The whole room was full of them, and Galia started to walk around them, despite her pain, just to stretch her legs.
For a moment, she was drawn to a small figure on one of the screens which showed what was happening at the departure gates… It was a little girl, with long, black hair, holding a little teddy bear. With her was a young man. Galia walked up to the screen and
suddenly yelled, “That’s Shir! That’s Shir! Someone’s got her hand, he’s taking her away.” Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “Call Doron! Call Doron!”
The room erupted, as orders were given over the comm. Doron’s voice overpowered everyone else’s voice. She heard him giving orders, and she heard his panting; she realized that he was on his way to where the officers from the control room had directed him.
Galia’s eyes never wavered from the screen. Her little girl was there, with some stranger. Who was he? He was leading her, dragging her — Galia had to go there! The pain in her head threatened to silence her. Cold sweat covered her body, and her legs started to shake. She went over to the policewoman and whispered in her ear, “I have to be there right now.”
The policewoman stood up and signaled one of the officers, while she told her, “Galia, I’m sorry. You need to stay put. We have no way of knowing what will happen next. You have to remain here.”
“No, I have to be there! What if they can’t find her?!” Her entire body shook.
The officer put his hand on her shoulder. He too urged her not to leave the room. She protested, tears running down her face. “I have to, I have to!” However, the hands holding her were stronger. She looked at the officer in a mute appeal. His face blurred in front of her, and then… silence.
“Hey, we need some help here. Mrs. Yellin fainted!” the policewoman called out.
Two policemen ran over, helping her to a chair, while they put her legs on another one. Within minutes, the medic team stationed at the airport arrived. It was clear that the loss of blood from her head and the pain from her arm, combined with the stress of the situation, had caused her to lose consciousness. The medics treated her quickly and professionally, rebandaging her head and putting her arm in a brace. One of the ambulances stationed there for emergencies got the call to wait for her at the closest gate.
Forced Silence Page 22
