Chosen People

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Chosen People Page 39

by Robert Whitlow

They turned onto a major highway that connected the north with the rest of the country.

  “What was going on at our first meeting at the steak restaurant that you didn’t tell me?” Hana asked.

  “Everything I said was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. I remembered you because of Ibrahim, and the first time I saw your picture on the law firm website, I knew I wanted to get to know you.” Daud stopped talking for a moment. “And I would have been crushed if you’d turned me down and hired another investigator.”

  “You knew how you felt toward me from the beginning?”

  “Before we sat down that first evening at the restaurant in West Jerusalem.”

  They rode in silence for several minutes. Hana thought about Daud, Jakob, and herself. “I believe the Lord brought you, me, and Jakob together,” she said.

  Daud glanced sideways at her. “I guess I’m okay including Jakob in that sentence, but I’m glad he’s not with us right now.”

  Hana reached over and touched Daud on the arm.

  “Me too.”

  They spent the rest of the drive talking about their dreams for the future.

  The following morning, Jakob was having a final breakfast in the courtyard when Hana came out of her room. While she was fixing a plate at the buffet, Daud arrived. The investigator poured a cup of coffee and sat down with Jakob.

  “How was the trip to Reineh?” Jakob asked.

  Daud glanced in Hana’s direction and smiled. Jakob held up his hand and said, “I think that answers my question.”

  Hana joined them. The look she gave Daud eliminated any lingering doubts in Jakob’s mind.

  “Good morning,” Hana said to him. “How’s the leg?”

  “Stiff but functional.”

  “What did you do yesterday?”

  It was Jakob’s turn to look each of them in the eyes. Hana immediately raised her eyebrows. “I think it was something good,” she said.

  “Yes,” Jakob answered. “More than good.”

  Hana began to cry as Jakob told them about his encounter with God at the Western Wall. He saw her whispering under her breath.

  “What are you saying?” he asked.

  “I’m so grateful to God that I can’t express it silently in my mind,” she said. “It has to come out.” She took a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes.

  Jakob turned to Daud. “Why aren’t you crying?” he asked.

  “Do you remember what I told you at dinner your first night in Jerusalem?” Daud responded.

  Jakobhesitated for amoment. They’d talked about a lot. “Oh, yeah,” he said, nodding. “That God is bringing the Jews to Israel because he keeps his promises.”

  “Right. And another of his promises in the book of Zechariah is that someday the whole nation will recognize Jesus as their Messiah. You’re blessed to be at the front of the line. This is a time of rejoicing, not mourning.”

  Jakob turned to Hana. “I’ve never felt so thankful in all my life.”

  “God put the thankfulness there,” she answered with a sniffle. “Don’t ever lose it.”

  Hana and Daud offered to let Jakob tag along for the day, but he refused.

  “The two of you need time together without me,” he said. “And I want to be by myself and process what’s been happening to me.”

  After breakfast, Hana and Daud left. Jakob texted Wahid, who replied that it would be an hour and a half before he could pick him up. While he waited, Jakob used his phone to read the entire book of Zechariah. A lot of the language and images seemed obscure and metaphorical, but other phrases about God’s loving intentions toward the Jewish people gripped Jakob’s heart. He immediately recognized in chapter 12 the passage Daud was referring to during breakfast in the courtyard: “I will pour out on the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and supplication. They will look on me, the one they have pierced, and they will mourn for him as one mourns for an only child.”

  When Wahid arrived, he apologized as Jakob got in the rear seat: “I had a quick trip to Bethlehem for a Chinese couple. They wanted to cram everything in before their tour group left for the Dead Sea.”

  “No problem. I’d like to go to the Jewish Quarter and Hurva Square.”

  “But not the Kotel? It’s close by.”

  “No.” Jakob shook his head. “And I won’t stay too long. I have unfinished business.”

  Wahid gave him a puzzled look before pulling away from the curb. It was a short drive to the drop-off point for the Jewish Quarter.

  “I’ll stay around the Old City,” Wahid said. “There are plenty of fares in this area.”

  Jakob’s route took him down streets that were now familiar. Even though he was slightly dragging his right leg, he felt a lightness in his step that he knew was connected to his heart. He stopped when he reached the edge of the square. Just as before, most people were passing through on their way to another destination, but some were staying to shop, eat a snack, or sit and talk. He walked slowly around the edge of the small plaza. He paused in front of a shop window and saw a plaque with the phrase “Pray for the Peace of Jerusalem.”

  He stopped at the ice cream shop where Gloria Neumann was murdered. There was a vacant chair by itself, and he sat down. Today, the place of violence was a place of peace. But Jakob knew that could change in an instant. A single person filled with hate and revenge could be a messenger of death and destruction. With his eyes open Jakob took in the scene of the entire square and then in his imagination expanded his vision to include the whole city—and prayed for the peace of Jerusalem.

  CHAPTER 45

  As they neared Ben Gurion Airport, Hana’s heart began to ache with loneliness even though Daud was sitting two feet away. She knew it was a feeling she would have to get used to, at least for a while.

  “I will move quickly on locating a position in the United States,” Daud said as if reading her thoughts.

  “You won’t have a problem finding work,” Jakob offered from the rear seat. “I predict you’ll have offers from several agencies.”

  “But not a job that is going to send you away for months on assignments so that you won’t be able to come home,” Hana interjected.

  “Do you think I would do that?” Daud asked.

  “No,” both Hana and Jakob replied.

  Daud laughed.

  They were cleared through by the security guards at the entrance to the terminal, and Daud parked alongside the curb. Jakob took his suitcase from the trunk and, after shaking Daud’s hand, stepped away from them. Daud lifted Hana’s heavy bag and placed it on the walkway. They embraced and kissed. When they parted, Hana reached up with her right hand and placed it on Daud’s left cheek and held it there for several seconds. He moved his face so that he could kiss her hand. She then placed her hand against her lips.

  “Remember that,” she whispered.

  Daud nodded and touched his heart. “And remember that I always carry you in here.”

  Hana and Jakob entered the terminal. Two hours later they were sitting on the plane waiting for takeoff. Hana’s heart was full and heavy.

  Jakob took out his headphones. “Before I’m unconscious and while we’re technically on the ground in Israel, I want to thank you for what you’ve done for me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And don’t worry about how Mr. Lowenstein treats me when we’re back in the States. If I can survive an encounter with Anzor Varayev, I can handle what your boss throws at me.”

  Eleven hours later they landed in Newark. After a two-hour layover they boarded a plane for the flight to Atlanta. By that point, Hana was exhausted enough to sleep. It was 10:35 p.m. when they stood in front of the baggage claim area at the Atlanta airport. Jakob was much more alert than she was.

  “There’s your bag,” he said as a fresh group of luggage made its way around the conveyor belt. “I’ll get it for you.”

  “I need to get home and go to bed,” Hana said. “Have you heard from Emily?�


  “Not since I confirmed the time for our arrival. She’s never late.”

  “Jakob!” a female voice called out.

  Hana and Jakob turned around as Emily Johnson ran up to them out of breath. She threw her arms around Jakob’s neck and held on to him. He glanced over her shoulder at Hana and slowly put his arms around Emily.

  “Are you okay?” Jakob asked after a few seconds passed.

  Emily stepped away and smiled at him. “Yes, just relieved that you’re home safe and sound and glad you didn’t have any serious drama on your trip.”

  Hana and Jakob exchanged a glance. “There were a few bumps and bruises,” Jakob admitted.

  They moved away with their luggage. After a few steps Emily looked at Jakob. “What’s wrong with your leg?” she asked. “Did you twist your knee?”

  “No. It’s going to be fine.”

  Hana retrieved her car from long-term parking. Once home, she collapsed in bed after taking a quick shower to wash away travel grime. She didn’t expect to wake up in the night; however, at 3:33 a.m., she rolled over in bed and her eyes popped open. She closed them for a few seconds but knew heaven had knocked on the door of her heart. She slipped out of bed. Without Leon in the house, Hana didn’t have to worry about waking up the puppy, and she spent several minutes walking through the house thanking the Lord for deliverance from death and the hope of love and joy in the future.

  Sitting on the couch, she thought about the blessing she’d received from Anwar and read the passages in the Old Testament about Hannah, the mother of Samuel, and in the New Testament about Anna, the aged prophetess who, upon seeing the baby Jesus, proclaimed the redemption of Israel. Their testimony encouraged Hana’s soul and stirred her spirit. She laid her hand on the pages and prayed for an impartation of the faith and vision and determination that rested on the two women. Feeling nothing, but confident she’d been obedient, Hana was about to lift her hand when an inner prompting stopped her. She stayed still before the Lord.

  And in the silence of waiting, something began to build inside her like water slowly rising. It was a strength, an awareness, a reality. It crept higher and higher, filling her without creating an uncomfortable pressure. It was a resource, a reservoir, a fountain that she knew would, in the timing of the Lord, overflow from her life in moments of divine choosing.

  In a split second, Hana saw scores of situations in which this would occur. The images vanished as quickly as they appeared, leaving her with expectation but no remembered details. It was enough. She bowed her head and, with joy and renewed commitment, dedicated herself to God’s purposes accomplished through his grace.

  In the morning, Hana drove to the doggie day care center to pick up Leon. She was shocked at how much he’d grown. When he wiggled all over in greeting, there seemed to be a lot more body in motion.

  “What has he been eating?” she asked the young man who brought him out to her.

  “Everything we put in front of him. He’s having quite a growth spurt.”

  Running her fingers through the dog’s fur was surprisingly therapeutic. Hana rested her hand on his head and stroked him during the drive home. Contact with a living creature filled with love was a comfort to her own soul. Shortly after she arrived home and filled Leon’s dish with fresh water, her phone vibrated. It was Daud.

  “I talked to Yosef,” Daud said. “There have been more arrests, and the Chechen terrorist cell in the West Bank has been neutralized. It is okay for you and Jakob to talk about what happened in Beit Hanina so long as you avoid mentioning Colonel Tarif or the names of any other soldiers you may remember.”

  “I’ll let Jakob know. How are you?”

  “Missing you but glad it won’t be long before I see you again.”

  They talked for an hour. Each conversation brought another layer of healing to Hana’s soul. She considered telling him about her nighttime encounter with the Lord but sensed it was for another time.

  “It’s wonderful to hear your voice,” she said as the call drew to a close.

  Daud responded with a few lines from a famous Arabic love poem.

  “That’s enough,” she replied with a smile. “You need to save something for the future.”

  “There is much more where that came from. I’m even writing a poem of my own.”

  Jakob and Ben sat in the reception area of Collins, Lowenstein, and Capella.

  “How’s Sadie doing?” Jakob asked.

  “Every time I think I’ve answered all her questions, she comes up with another batch.”

  “Maybe she should become a lawyer,” Jakob said.

  “I’ll leave that up to her.”

  “Has she talked to Hana since we got back?”

  “No, but Hana is coming over for a visit tomorrow night.”

  The door opened, and Janet Dean entered. “Come with me, please,” she said. “Ms. Abboud and Mr. Lowenstein are waiting for you.”

  Janet escorted them to the conference room where Jakob had first presented the Neumann case. Jakob’s limp had lessened, and there was no sign of infection. His initial head injuries seemed far in the past.

  Mr. Lowenstein shook Jakob’s hand with genuine feeling. There was a tray with coffee and pastries in the middle of the table. The senior partner directed Hana and Jakob to the head of the table and positioned himself across from Ben.

  “Hana, why don’t you begin, and Jakob can jump in at any point,” Mr. Lowenstein said. “Ben, we don’t have anything in writing to give you today except a brief memo for the file. Once you hear their story, I think you’ll understand why this is going to take time to sort out.”

  For the next hour and a half, Hana and Jakob took turns revealing what they’d not yet told the client. The cup of coffee in front of Ben grew cold because he forgot to drink it. Sitting in the comfortable conference room chairs in the middle of an American city, Jakob felt detached from the man who’d been bound, gagged, and threatened with imminent death in Daud Hasan’s apartment. When Jakob summarized Daud’s initial conversation in Russian with Anzor, Ben interrupted.

  “The investigator was working for the terrorists?!” he asked in shock.

  “Ultimately, no, but it looked that way until we were rescued.”

  Hana became emotional when she spoke, and Jakob filled in the blanks when he could. Eventually, Hana was able to describe her ordeal. Jakob moved on to the revelation about John Caldwell aka Latif Al-Fasi and Simi Valley Productions. Mr. Lowenstein pushed a stack of papers that lay in front of him across the table to Ben.

  “This is the complaint for the lawsuit we’re going to file against the production company. Our litigation staff worked late into the night putting it together. The first step will be to ask a federal judge in California to issue a temporary restraining order blocking the company from emptying its bank accounts and destroying records.” Mr. Lowenstein paused. “Which may not be necessary because the FBI is raiding their corporate offices while we’re having this conversation. They will lock down everything.”

  This was the first Jakob had heard about the latest development. “Will the feds shut us out, too?” he asked.

  “Hana’s number one priority at this point is to work with Sylvia Armstrong to keep that from happening,” Mr. Lowenstein replied.

  “I’m flying to New York in the morning to meet with her,” Hana said and turned to Ben. “So I’ll need to push back my time to see Sadie.”

  “She’ll be okay,” Ben said.

  Jakob then described the rescue and subsequent conversations with Daud and Yosef.

  “I’m glad you cooperated with the Israelis,” Ben said. “It was the right thing to do.”

  “Two men living in Atlanta have been brought in for questioning,” Jakob said. “Detective Freeman isn’t sure if charges will be filed against them, but at least they’re on the government’s radar.”

  “The Chechen terrorist group in Israel has been decimated,” Hana said. “Tawfik Zadan, Anzor Varayev, and the other men wh
o broke into Daud’s apartment and held us hostage will be prosecuted and sent to prison for a long time. Personally, I feel safer than I have since the attack on Jakob at the apartment. But not just because of those arrests.”

  “What do you mean?” Jakob asked.

  Hana looked at him with a steely gaze that Jakob couldn’t immediately interpret.

  “Daud called me right before I stepped into this meeting,” she said. “The FBI arrested Latif Al-Fasi this morning near Phoenix.”

  “Yes!” Jakob shouted.

  “That’s something else I’ll discuss with Sylvia Armstrong,” Hana said. “I’m confident Al-Fasi’s next stop will be a jail cell in New York City.”

  “Hopefully, information obtained from Simi Valley Productions will lead to other defendants,” Mr. Lowenstein said. “We’ll be diligent and aggressive. You can count on it.”

  “Thanks for everything you’re doing,” Ben answered. “It’s hard for me to take it all in.”

  “Did I forget anything?” Hana asked Jakob. “I don’t want to leave out something important that happened in Israel.”

  “One thing,” Jakob said. “You neglected to mention the date of your future marriage to Daud Hasan.”

  “Is that true?” Mr. Lowenstein asked in surprise. “You didn’t mention it to me.”

  Hana gave Jakob a threatening look. “I didn’t consider my personal life relevant to my report. Daud and I haven’t set a date, but when we do, I’m not sure Jakob will be invited to the wedding.”

  “I’ll still send a gift,” he replied with a smile.

  Jakob and Ben rode down together in the elevator. “What are you going to do next?” Ben asked when they reached the level for the parking deck. “Will you go to California when the lawsuit is filed and a hearing is scheduled in front of a judge?”

  “I’m not sure. I know Hana will keep me in the loop, and I’ll find the right spot to jump back in.”

  Ben dropped Jakob off at his office. After working a few hours, Jakob texted Emily and asked if she could pick him up after class so he could then take her out for a late dinner at a place of her choosing. He was ready to tell her what happened to his soul in Israel. Emily quickly responded and sent him a link to a restaurant with a note:

 

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