Chosen People

by Robert Whitlow

  “How’s Sadie?” Hana asked.

  “Filled with endless questions about your trip. Is there any way you can send a few pictures? She wants to know where you are and what you’re doing. She’s especially interested in photos of your nieces and your cousin Fabia.”

  “If that happens, it will be later in the trip,” Hana replied. “Let us tell you about today.”

  As she talked, Hana could see shifting emotions move across Ben’s face. The most dramatic came when she told him they’d seen Tawfik Zadan.

  “You’re sure it was him?” Ben asked.

  “Yes. Daud talked to him.”

  Ben pressed his lips tightly together as he listened.

  “Daud wants to move forward on a fake business deal with Tawfik as a way to find out more about the group he’s working with,” Hana said. “It may be the same organization connected to the attack on your family.”

  Ben took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m not sure how I would handle being in the same room with any of these people,” he said.

  “We’re a long way from that day,” Hana replied. “Right now, it’s still a lone-wolf attack by Abdul.”

  “That’s not all,” Jakob spoke up. He told Ben about their dinner conversation with Daud the previous evening.

  “The computer data sounds promising,” Ben said.

  “Yes,” Jakob said, glancing at Hana. “But if there was something incriminating, I wonder why nothing has been done before now by the Israeli authorities.”

  “They often take a long-term view,” Hana answered. “They’re less interested in prosecuting a terrorist attack that’s occurred than trying to prevent more in the future. That’s especially true when the immediate perpetrator is dead.”

  “I can see their point,” Ben said, rubbing his eyes. “Jakob, I received a call this afternoon from a woman named Emily Johnson who says she’s been driving you around for the past few weeks. I let it go to voice mail and haven’t answered her because I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to talk to her.”

  “I have no idea why she would call you,” Jakob said.

  “Have you talked to her about the case?” Hana asked.

  “She’s aware that there may be a connection between the mugging and my work, and she knows about the explosive device, but I haven’t violated attorney-client confidentiality.”

  Troubled, Hana decided not to challenge Jakob in front of the client.

  “She’s a former cop and has direct access to information whether I tell her or not,” Jakob continued. “I trust her, but it’s up to you whether you want to talk to her.”

  “All right,” Ben said. “It helps to know that much. I’ll mull it over.”

  “I vote against it,” Hana said. “Let Jakob find out first why she called.”

  “Good idea,” Jakob jumped in. “I’ll text her.”

  “When will I hear from you again?” Ben asked.

  “Hopefully tomorrow night,” Jakob answered. “Is this a good time to call?”

  “Considering the number of nights I suffer from insomnia, the answer is yes.”

  The call ended. Hana turned to Jakob. “It’s my turn to ask if your personal connection with someone has affected your judgment,” she said.

  “Emily? Not at all.”

  They returned from dinner at a restaurant in East Jerusalem. Jakob had sampled some of the best that the local Arab cuisine had to offer. Most food in the Middle East grows from the same culinary tree, but the individual flair of a skilled chef allows room for unique expression. Hana enjoyed Jakob’s enthusiasm, which made her pay more attention than usual to the familiar flavors.

  “That was great,” Jakob said as Daud pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. “I never knew eggplant could taste like that, and the baked kibbe was delicious.”

  “And the fish shakshuka was the best I’ve ever eaten,” Hana added.

  “That’s the way they prepare it in Alexandria,” Daud said. “Shakshuka is a way of cooking, not just an egg dish.”

  “When were you in Egypt?” Jakob asked. “Can Israeli citizens travel there?”

  “Yes, with a visa,” Daud answered. “And I’ve been there more times than I can count. My grandfather lived in Port Said before coming to the Negev.”

  “What time will you be here in the morning?” Hana asked.

  “Nine o’clock,” Daud replied. “First stop is the rendezvous with my friend who has access to the computers seized at the Zadan residence.”

  “Where will we meet with him?” Hana asked.

  “I have to put the blindfold over your eyes to take you there,” Daud replied with a grin.

  Hana forced a smile but wasn’t satisfied with his answer. “Will it be near Tel Aviv?” she pressed.

  “Uri is supposed to let me know the details later tonight. This falls into what you would call the gray area. He is doing me a favor, and someday I will do him a favor. After talking to him, we will meet with some people who work in Israeli internal security regarding their investigation of Gloria Neumann’s murder.”

  “Will we have to sign any confidentiality paperwork?” Jakob asked.

  Daud looked at Hana. “Please explain.”

  Hana quickly did so in Arabic.

  “No,” Daud said to Jakob. “But they are not under the control of the American courts.”

  “Which means their cooperation will be voluntary at every level,” Hana said. “That’s where Sylvia Armstrong and the US Attorney’s Office could help with exchange of evidence by official sources.”

  “That is all true,” Daud said, looking at his watch.

  “Time for me to say good night,” Jakob said. “Hana, that doesn’t apply to you. Enjoy the journey.”

  “What did he mean by ‘enjoy the journey’?” Daud asked with a puzzled expression on his face after the door closed. “Do you want to go someplace?”

  “Only the places God wants to take us,” Hana answered.

  Daud switched to Arabic. “On that we agree one hundred percent, but I had trouble understanding your mood this evening. Part of the time you seemed to be happy and having a good time. Then at other times, you seemed wrapped up in your own thoughts.”

  “It’s hard to jump back and forth so quickly between the personal and the professional,” Hana said. “When I was here before, we settled our business first and then focused on getting to know each other better. It makes me uneasy when we switch back and forth.”

  “This investigation is an excuse to spend time with you and be paid for it. It’s the best of both worlds,” Daud said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Look, lawyers like Jakob Brodsky and the US attorney in New York think a lawsuit is going to make a difference in eliminating Islamic terrorism. It may help in an isolated way, but you and I know the problems in this part of the world can’t be litigated in a courtroom. Only the power of the gospel can make a lasting difference, because it changes the hearts and minds of men and women who believe it.”

  “You’re right,” Hana agreed. “I need to remember that.”

  “And don’t make me guess what you’re thinking and feeling. Whatever my skill is as an investigator, I’m still a man trying to understand a woman.”

  “You’re doing great,” Hana said and smiled. “Talking helps a lot.”

  “Does that mean you’re enjoying the journey?”

  “Yes, very much.”

  Jakob left his room for the hotel lobby to pick up a bottle of complimentary shampoo. At the bottom of the stairs outside, he saw Daud still standing beside his car with his phone to his ear. Hana was nowhere in sight.

  “No, not yet,” the investigator said in Russian.

  Jakob froze in place and then moved back into the shadows.

  “My way is the only way this is going to work,” the investigator continued in the same language. “Everything will be good in the end. Don’t worry.”

  Daud lowered the phone from his ear, opened the door of his vehicle, and drove away. Jakob continued to the lobby.


  “I have shampoo options,” the young woman behind the counter said. “Your hair is thick and wavy, so I recommend this one.”

  Shampoo bottle in hand, Jakob returned upstairs. The investigator had spoken Russian with a pure accent that was more Ukrainian than Muscovite. Clearly, he was a man of many talents.

  Hana emerged from her room. She’d woken up early and sent a detailed memo to Mr. Lowenstein outlining what had happened so far in Israel. In her first draft, she emphasized that she and Daud had left Jakob behind when they traveled to Ramallah and Deir Dibwan, but the sentence didn’t sit right with her, and she changed it to simply report what they did. Jakob was sitting at a small table in the courtyard and drinking coffee when Hana joined him.

  “Is your body clock adjusting to the time change?” she asked when she sat down.

  “Not very well. I’ve been up for hours.”

  “Me, too, but I’ve been working. I sent a memo to Mr. Lowenstein about the trip.”

  “Did he respond?”

  “Not yet.”

  Jakob glanced over Hana’s left shoulder as a couple staying at the hotel passed close by. He lowered his voice. “I heard from Emily. She’s concerned about Ben and Sadie’s safety. That’s why she called him.”

  Hana’s heart sank, and her morning appetite left. “What’s going on?”

  Jakob continued in a soft voice. “It’s true that she wasn’t followed when she left the airport after dropping me off for my flight. What she didn’t say at the time was that she turned the tables on the car tailing me and followed it. The driver led her to a run-down apartment complex in East Point. She stayed for a few hours to see who came and went. It was an active place, and she took a bunch of photos.”

  Jakob handed his phone to Hana, who scrolled through the pictures. There were multiple shots of four Middle Eastern males in their twenties or thirties. Two men had uncut beards in a manner preferred by fundamentalists.

  “Where’s the connection with Ben and Sadie?” Hana asked. “East Point is across town from where they live.”

  “The following day, Emily took a break from driving customers and returned to the apartment. The car that followed us to the airport was gone, but a couple of guys left in a different vehicle. Emily tailed them all the way to the community where Ben and Sadie live. As you know, it’s gated, so the men parked nearby. They were still there when Emily left an hour later.”

  “Has she reported any of this to the police?”

  “Not yet. She has a call in to Detective Freeman to request increased police presence in the area.”

  “Ben wants to keep things normal for Sadie,” Hana said as much to herself as to Jakob.

  “Nothing has been normal for either one of them since they were in Hurva Square nearly four years ago,” Jakob noted.

  Anger rose up inside Hana at the cowardice of anyone who posed a threat to innocent little girls. She closed her eyes for several moments. “We have to let the police deal with it,” she said, keeping her voice steady.

  “That’s what I said in the voice mail I left Ben this morning,” Jakob replied. “I encouraged him to return Emily’s phone call and to contact Detective Freeman directly.”

  “Okay,” Hana sighed.

  “Should we tell Daud about this?” Jakob asked.

  “Yes,” Hana answered. “You can tell him on the way to our meeting.”

  CHAPTER 36

  After Daud picked them up, Jakob summarized his conversation with Emily.

  “If this is some kind of terror cell operating out of the apartment, the American authorities should know about it,” Daud said when Jakob finished. “Maybe they already do.”

  “Emily is going to talk to the police detective working on my case. He has contacts within Homeland Security.”

  “Leave it there,” Daud said. “There is nothing more we can do from here except pray.”

  “Pray a lot,” Hana said. “That’s what I’ve been doing since Jakob told me.”

  “Ensanullah says he was the only one following you yesterday,” Daud said, looking in the rearview mirror at Jakob. “That is good news.”

  “Where is he today?” Jakob asked.

  “Not working for me any longer. I was upset with him for abandoning his post.”

  Jakob thought Daud’s reaction was harsh but kept quiet because he didn’t know the protocol in the investigator’s world. They rode in silence for several minutes. Daud took an exit and turned off the main highway.

  “Are we going to Ra’anana?” Hana asked.

  “Yes,” Daud replied.

  They entered the outskirts of the modern city that was home to around seventy-five thousand people. They turned onto Ahuza Street, the main boulevard.

  “This is nice,” Jakob commented from the back seat.

  “Which is why a lot of Jews from America and Europe settle here,” Hana said. “It’s the national headquarters in Israel for Microsoft and a bunch of other high-tech companies.”

  Daud turned onto a side street and parked in front of a shiny five-story apartment building. “Uri does not live here, but it is where we are going to meet him,” he said. “Bring your laptop, Hana.”

  They took an elevator to the fourth floor. Instead of ringing the bell, Daud sent a text message. A few seconds later the door opened. Standing before them was a young Israeli man in his midtwenties wearing shorts, sandals, and a black T-shirt with a comic-book figure emblazoned on the front.

  “Good to see you again,” Daud said in greeting and then introduced Hana and Jakob in Hebrew.

  Uri invited them into an open-concept apartment that was furnished in steel, black leather, and glass. He spoke several sentences in Hebrew until Hana interrupted.

  “English, please,” she said. “So Jakob can understand.”

  “No problem,” Uri replied. “I spent two years in Chicago taking classes at Northwestern.”

  They sat in a living area adjacent to the small kitchen. A glass-topped table in front of them was bare except for a purple flash drive. Uri pointed to it.

  “Everything on the three computers seized by the police at the Zadan residence in Deir Dibwan is on there,” he said.

  “Have you looked at it?” Daud asked.

  “No, and I don’t want to. I’m going to step out for a cup of coffee and pastry while you check it out. Text me when you’re done.”

  Daud accompanied Uri to the door, where they spoke in low voices for a minute. Hana couldn’t hear what was said. Daud returned. “We can open it on your computer,” he said.

  Once Hana’s laptop was up and running, she inserted the flash drive. “I hope there’s no virus lurking in this data,” she said.

  The three of them sat together on a leather sofa. A long list of files popped into view. Some were identified in Arabic.

  “It’s gibberish to me,” Jakob said, sitting back.

  “These are Abdul’s financial records,” Hana said as she clicked open one of the files.

  It was a simple budget that included meticulous detail about the young man’s income and spending habits.

  “He worked at a coffee shop in Ramallah,” Hana said, pointing. “These are his tips.”

  Abdul lived frugally and earmarked a percentage of his earnings each month for deposit into a separate bank account marked “Retirement.”

  “Not what you’d expect from a terrorist knowing he was about to go on what would likely be a suicide mission,” Hana said to Daud and then translated the information for Jakob.

  They followed the financial trail to the final entry for “Tips” recorded two days before Abdul’s death. Importantly, there were no significant deposits from an outside source.

  “It was life as normal until he and Tawfik went to Jerusalem,” Hana said. “If this is true, he acted based on belief, not payment.”

  The files were segregated on the flash drive based on the computer they came from. Nothing from “Computer 101” revealed anything out of the ordinary. In fact, it
couldn’t have been more mundane. After thirty minutes, Hana moved to “Computer 201.” It contained video files, mostly sermons by an Imam or religious leader. Hana turned on the sound and quickly heard the phrases “death to the Jews” and “jihad against the infidels” a couple of times.

  “Do you recognize any of the speakers?” Hana asked Daud.

  He nodded. “A few. They are mostly Egyptian or Saudi. The two at the bottom are from Gaza.”

  Hana clicked open one from Gaza. The video quality was inferior to the others and the audio scratchy. Another set of videos included home movies from the lives of the Zadan family. They sampled a few, which showed large gatherings of men, women, and children outside and inside for meals.

  “Stop,” Daud said. “That’s Abdul and Tawfik as boys.”

  In the frozen frame the brothers looked to be around ten and six. They were each holding a soccer ball. Tawfik had a gap-toothed smile. Except for the Islamic garb of the adults, the picture could have been from a holiday gathering of Hana’s family in Reineh.

  “How many boys that age now will end up like them?” Jakob asked.

  “It will not stop until—” Daud began but stopped.

  Hana knew what Daud was thinking and suspected he’d not continued because Jakob wouldn’t understand. She closed the video. They watched portions of another one, but it was more of the same. Jakob stood and stretched.

  “I need a break,” he said.

  While he was out of the room, Hana leaned against the sofa and rubbed her eyes.

  “You may not want to tell me, but what did you say to Uri at the door?” she asked.

  “Uri isn’t his name,” Daud replied in Arabic. “And I was telling him that I think you are the most beautiful woman in Israel.”

  Hana rolled her eyes. “Neither one of those statements is true,” she said.

  “No, both of them are true.” Daud glanced in the direction where Jakob had gone toward a bathroom. “I asked him if he was aware of any other information about the Neumann murder that might help us. He told me there was nothing in his department. The information taken from the computers was in an investigative file marked ‘Inactive.’ That’s one reason he didn’t mind sharing it with us.”