Chosen People

by Robert Whitlow

  Getting dressed, she cautiously opened the door of her room to a pleasant day with a clear sky. She made her way to the courtyard and sat alone with a cup of coffee and only a few pieces of fruit on a plate. She had no appetite. An Israeli man about her own age approached and spoke to her in Hebrew.

  “Good morning,” he said. “My name is Yosef. Aaron Levy sent me to see you. I’d like to talk to you if you feel up to it.”

  “Do you have any official identification?”

  The man produced a card that looked genuine. He spoke with a Moroccan accent, possibly indicating a Sephardic heritage.

  “Okay,” Hana answered, returning the card. “Are you going to record our conversation?”

  “With your permission.”

  “I guess so,” she sighed. “You’re polite for someone who’s going to interrogate me.”

  “Not so much interrogate as discuss,” he replied, leaning closer. “You are aware of sensitive information, and we want to manage it wisely. Have you spoken to anyone about what happened last night in Beit Hanina?”

  “Only Colonel Tarif and Jakob Brodsky,” she said, then paused. “And Daud Hasan, whom I don’t trust.”

  “Would you be willing to keep what happened yesterday and last night confidential for the time being?”

  “Is there a news blackout? The report on channel 2 didn’t tell much at all.”

  “Our request isn’t limited to media.”

  “There are people who need to know,” Hana replied slowly. “I have family in Reineh, and I’m here working on a lawsuit for the husband of a woman who was murdered in Hurva Square.”

  “I know.”

  “How much do you know?”

  “We know the salient facts, from either Mr. Hasan or our own intelligence gathering.”

  Hana remembered Daud’s earlier comment that you could never assume privacy in Israel. She’d not known the scope of Daud’s loyalties or where the lines fell. For all she knew, he could have bugged her room or her computer, synced with her phone, or done any number of other things to spy on her.

  “Does Daud Hasan work for you?”

  “Before I respond, you need to answer my question.”

  Hana hesitated, then asked, “How long is ‘for the time being’? A week, a month, a year, forever?”

  “Only until some immediate matters are resolved.”

  “About Latif Al-Fasi?”

  “And other persons of interest to us,” Yosef said, glancing behind him at some nearby hotel guests who were eating breakfast. “Please keep your voice down.”

  “I’m Israeli,” Hana said. “And I’m loyal to my country.”

  “We have no doubt about that.”

  “What about Jakob Brodsky? He knows what I know, perhaps more since he understands Russian and could follow the conversation between Daud and the man called Anzor.”

  “I met with Mr. Brodsky before I came here. He’s willing to work with us, so long as we provide information to assist with the lawsuit as soon as we can.”

  To Hana that sounded like Jakob—negotiating a deal she wasn’t sure he would keep.

  “Then I will give you a tentative yes,” she said. “But only if you talk to me about Daud.”

  Yosef glanced over his shoulder again. There was no one within earshot. “Daud Hasan had a working relationship with our agency. I can’t provide specific details. He managed the crisis last night in Beit Hanina according to a protocol that had been prearranged for any case in which he was in imminent danger. The threat was larger in scope than anticipated, so there had to be improvisation.”

  “How can you be sure he’s not a double agent for the terrorists? Everything I saw and heard convinced me his allegiance lay with the men who held me captive.”

  “Ms. Abboud, he was good at his job,” Yosef replied with a clear effort at sincerity. “When you and Mr. Brodsky were taken hostage, Daud sent a numbered text to a secure line that revealed what was going on and triggered the rescue operation. Otherwise, you’d be on your way out of the country and Mr. Brodsky would be dead.”

  “I wish I could believe you.”

  “That is your choice.”

  Hana stared at her untouched plate of fruit. “Did Daud’s relationship with your agency end because of what happened last night?”

  “I can’t confirm or deny anything, but terrorists survived the assault and saw how he was treated by the soldiers who rescued you. Currently, the captured terrorists aren’t allowed to speak to anyone on the outside, but that will end soon and the story will come out.”

  “What about Tawfik Zadan?”

  “He was captured.”

  “And the man Anzor, the one who questioned me? I saw the soldiers subdue him.”

  “Also captured and placed in isolation for interrogation.”

  Hana thought about Daud. If Yosef was telling her the truth, circumstances existed that she would have to consider even if she severed their personal relationship.

  “I would like to report that your tentative yes is no longer tentative,” Yosef continued.

  “Agreed,” Hana replied after a moment had passed. “But you already knew that’s where I would end up.”

  “I hoped so,” Yosef said with a smile. “Thank you. For the time being, I will be your contact person.”

  He stood and handed Hana a card with only his first name and a phone number. “Put the number in your phone.”

  “My phone was destroyed last night.”

  Yosef took a cell phone from his shirt pocket. “Here is a replacement. The internal card in your phone was intact. Daud damaged the case without destroying the internal memory. All your contacts, photos, and so on have been uploaded.”

  It was identical to her previous phone.

  “You work fast,” she said. “Will you be listening to all my conversations?”

  Yosef didn’t respond. “Thanks for your cooperation,” he said, standing up.

  The agent left. After her first bite of fruit, Hana’s appetite began to return. She returned to the buffet and added some cheese and yogurt to her plate.

  It was the middle of the afternoon when Jakob was brought back to the hotel in a military car with heavily tinted windows. He, too, had a new cell phone, but his own clothes were gone, and he wore loose-fitting pants and a garish yellow shirt that looked like it had come from a charity closet. The military doctor who had authorized his release from the hospital loaded him up with antibiotics and potent pain medication.

  “I’d rather have a clear head and endure some discomfort,” Jakob said to the doctor. “I just got off pain meds a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Then take one before you go to sleep. It will wear off by morning.”

  The soldier driving the car stopped in front of the hotel. Jakob no longer had the key to enter his room and went to the front desk to request another one. Rafi, the concierge, saw him dragging his right leg behind him.

  “Are you injured?” Rafi asked with concern. “I can call a doctor. They come to the hotel.”

  “I’ve already seen a doctor,” Jakob answered, realizing how challenging it would be to maintain secrecy. “I’m on the mend now. I’ll be running a marathon before you know it.”

  Rafi eyed him skeptically.

  “Tell Wahid I won’t be going out today,” Jakob continued. “But I may text him tomorrow.”

  After getting the key, Jakob wanted to check on Hana before navigating his way up the stairs to his room. He knocked on her door and stood so she could clearly see him through the peephole. She opened it.

  “Don’t criticize the shirt,” Jakob said before she said anything. “They had limited fashion options.”

  Hana stepped forward and hugged him tightly. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Jakob had to fight back tears.

  “Enough,” Jakob said when they parted. “Now I know what the bond feels like between those who endure and survive a harrowing experience.”

  “Thank God we survived,” Hana answered. �
�Come in. Where is the best place for you to sit?”

  “With my leg propped up on the bed.”

  Hana arranged a chair for him, and he sat down and elevated his leg to the level of the mattress.

  “I talked to a guy named Yosef who works for the secret police or whatever they call them,” Jakob began. “He came by at the crack of dawn—”

  “And then he came to see me,” Hana said. “He told me you’d agreed to keep what really happened secret for a while.”

  “That’s right. Did you ask him about Daud?”

  “Yes. I’m slowly coming around to what you told me at the hospital.”

  Jakob listened as Hana summarized what she’d learned. “We’ve been minnows swimming with sharks,” Jakob said, shaking his head. “But I think we got what we came for.”

  “The company in California?”

  “Yes. If Simi Valley Productions is laundering money for the group connected to Abdul and Tawfik, they would be a target defendant.” Jakob stopped talking for a moment before continuing. “I wonder if Daud already knew about that. Have you heard from him?”

  “No.”

  “What else did Yosef say to you?”

  “Not much. He gave me a cell phone with all my information transferred to it. They were able to retrieve the storage card.”

  “Me too.” Jakob raised his eyebrows. “Which was much better than this ugly shirt and pair of baggy pants.”

  There was a knock on the door. They looked at each other.

  “The IDF told me I was under protective custody,” Hana said, getting up from her chair.

  “I hope they do a better job than Daud did.”

  Hana looked through the spy hole. “It’s Daud,” she said, turning to Jakob. “What should I do?”

  “I’m not going to make you do anything. If you want me to go outside and tell him to leave, I’ll do it.”

  Jakob watched as Hana bowed her head for a moment before opening the door. She didn’t say anything as the investigator entered. Daud remained standing. He was wearing a blue shirt and casual pants. Jakob could see a few cuts on the investigator’s muscular forearms. Daud sat in a chair so that he faced both Jakob and Hana, who positioned herself at the end of the bed. Jakob could see that Hana was visibly trembling.

  “I want to speak to both of you so you can understand,” Daud began. “There is much—”

  “It may be too soon for us to have that conversation,” Jakob cut in, his eyes on Hana.

  “No, I want to hear,” Hana replied shakily. “Even if I can’t control my body.”

  Daud looked at Hana and buried his head in his hands. The simple, unspoken act dispelled some of the tension in the room. Jakob started to speak but decided not to. They sat in silence until Daud raised his head.

  “Maybe it would be better if you ask me questions,” he said. “I am prepared to answer anything.”

  Jakob looked at Hana.

  “You first,” she said. “I’m still having trouble being in the same room with him.”

  Jakob winced at the third-person reference to Daud. “Why did Anzor and his men come to your apartment?” Jakob asked.

  “Because he did not like the way I was handling the Neumann investigation. You heard what he said in Russian. He did not want to wait. He wanted to kill you and Hana.”

  “What was your plan?”

  Daud rubbed his hands together and sat up straighter in the chair. “This was the big moment for a mission I had worked on for over a year,” he said. “My job was to learn all I could about Anzor and his associates. I was picked because I speak Russian. My superiors saw the Neumann case as a way to make deeper inroads into the Chechen network. They suspected there was a relationship between them and the Zadan brothers, but they were not sure how everything fit together. Anzor knew about Jakob representing the Neumann family, so when I mentioned his name, it gave me credibility.”

  “My name?” Jakob asked.

  “Yes, and they knew you were looking for other lawyers to assist you. When I told them that you had associated Collins, Lowenstein, and Capella in America, it greatly increased their concern.”

  “Because the firm could finance litigation?” Jakob asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Were they behind the attack on me in Atlanta?” Jakob asked. “And planting a bomb in my car?”

  “I thought so, but I was not sure until I talked to Anzor at my apartment.”

  “And mentioned the botched attempts on my life,” Jakob said.

  “Correct.”

  “But they didn’t know about me?” Hana asked.

  “Not at first,” Daud said. “But I could not keep you hidden. I believed I could protect you and Jakob because I would know in advance what the terrorists might try to do to you.”

  “You were wrong,” Hana said.

  “Yes. I was wrong.”

  No one spoke for a few seconds.

  “Go on,” Hana said.

  Daud took a deep breath. “The Chechens brought me into meetings that enabled me to identify more of their leaders. My instructions were to move forward with one more meeting before the three of us were removed from the situation and the terrorist cell neutralized.”

  “Who was your boss?” Jakob asked.

  “I cannot tell you, but it was not Aaron Levy. When I left Deir Dibwan, Anzor and his men prepared for the attack.” Daud paused. “I told him and the other leaders we were going to have dinner at my apartment.”

  “Why?” Jakob and Hana both exclaimed.

  “To make him believe that I was in control. But they decided it would be easy to capture you at my apartment with my cooperation. They saw me as a mercenary collecting money, and I had to act as if I did not care what happened to either one of you.” Daud looked at Hana. “When the terrorist held the knife to your throat, I had my hand on a gun I kept hidden beneath the counter in the kitchen. The man with the knife was one second away from death, but if I had shot him, I do not believe I could have neutralized all of them. We had to wait for Colonel Tarif’s unit to arrive.”

  Jakob saw a tear run down Hana’s cheek. “Do we need to stop?” he asked.

  “No,” Hana replied and shook her head.

  Jakob looked at Daud, who seemed to be waiting for him to ask another question.

  “Why didn’t you want Anzor to know that we had identified Latif Al-Fasi? That’s when I realized you might not be working with the terrorists.”

  “That was new information to us,” Daud answered. “Anzor’s group always called him ‘the American.’ I knew he played a role in propaganda and finances, but your friends in the US identified him from the video. That was another reason I was ordered to press forward with the mission—to find out as much as I could about Al-Fasi and his contacts. When you mentioned him by both his birth name and Islamic name, it shocked Anzor.”

  “Now, both the Israelis and the Americans are after Al-Fasi,” Jakob said.

  “Yes,” Daud agreed.

  “And that’s one of the main reasons for Yosef’s visit to both of us,” Hana added.

  “Maybe,” Daud said. “I am no longer assigned to the mission.”

  Jakob looked at Hana. “I know we agreed to wait, but if we don’t act fast, Simi Valley Productions won’t have any assets. We have to figure out a way to convince a federal judge to issue a pre-lawsuit freeze—”

  “Or you can let our two governments cooperate in a way that saves other lives,” Daud said.

  “Leaving our client with nothing?” Jakob replied sharply. “And me beat up and shot and Hana suffering from PTSD? Something is not right with this picture.”

  “Jakob, this is bigger than us,” Hana said in a soft voice. “And I believe Ben will understand.”

  CHAPTER 43

  Should I go?” Daud asked Hana after Jakob left the room in obvious frustration.

  Hana had listened to the revelation about Daud’s role with the terrorist cell on two levels—the factual information, and the way the informat
ion touched her emotions.

  “No, stay,” she replied.

  Daud resumed his seat across from her and waited. Hana was silent as she debated what to say next. “Let’s not talk about the past for a few minutes,” she said in Arabic. “What are your future plans?”

  “Professionally?”

  “For a man like you, doesn’t that determine everything else?”

  “Maybe in the past, but not now.” Daud leaned forward. “My ability to work undercover is finished. Terrorist groups and their state sponsors will put a bounty on my head. I always knew the risk when I agreed to do what I did for our country.”

  For the first time since the assault at the apartment, Hana felt a hint of sympathy for Daud. But that response was followed by the stark reality that if she maintained any contact with him, her life would be placed in greater danger as well.

  “What does the government do for agents like you once you’ve been compromised?” she asked.

  “A desk job in Tel Aviv with an apartment in a secured area is one approach.”

  Hana had a hard time imagining Daud chained to a desk all day.

  “But that’s for Jewish agents,” he continued. “For an Arab it’s more complicated. I don’t want to pretend that I’m Jewish when I’m not; and my faith is as real as you believed it was twenty-four hours ago, maybe more so.”

  Hana eyed him suspiciously. “What else was a lie?” she asked.

  “My extravagant lifestyle,” Daud responded. “I enjoyed my Land Rover, but I didn’t care about the BMW or the fancy apartment. That was all for show because of the money I received from the terrorist groups. I knew it bothered you.”

  “How? I didn’t say anything.”

  “Hana, you could never do my job. Your eyes reveal what’s in your heart, and I can read your face better than a child’s book of stories.”

  Everything about Daud that had attracted Hana to him in the first place clamored for her attention.

  “Maybe that’s true, but you didn’t answer my question. What will the government do with you or for you?”