Forever, My Homeland: The Final Book in the All My Love, Detrick Series

by Roberta Kagan

  Tova could not speak.

  “I hope I didn’t scare you by saying that I think I am falling in love with you…” he said.

  “No…no…”

  “I didn’t mean to scare you away.”

  “You didn’t. I care for you, too, Gerhard. Very much. Very much…” The words hurt her throat because they were so filled with real emotion.

  “Marry me. Come to live with me in Germany. I have a nice home. You will like it. In fact, I have a rose garden. It’s my hobby…roses of all colors…”

  “Germany?”

  “Yes, it’s been a long time since the war. Jews are not in any danger in Germany anymore.”

  “Gerhard.” She took a deep breath. She might be falling in love with him but… “Gerhard, I am an Israeli. I was born here, and this is my home. Israel is my land, and this is my way of life.”

  “You don’t think you could love me?”

  “I think that maybe, I already do love you.” She felt the pain of loss in the pit of her stomach, but she knew that what she was about to tell him was the only truth she could live with. “Gerhard, I’m sorry…I cannot leave here. I can never leave here. Israel is forever my homeland.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Bari Lynn hadn’t realized that she was holding her breath until the door to the underground room closed, leaving Bari and Marilyn alone again. She wasn’t afraid of the boy who brought the food and water. She was certain that he was not as cruel as the others were in his group. But whenever the door creaked open, Bari’s heart began to race. It could be the boy again, or it might be the last breath she and Marilyn would take.

  Her skin itched, and she wondered if it was from nerves or insects. When Athir had removed her bonds to go pee, she felt her arm breaking a spider’s web. She didn’t tell Marilyn. She would become hysterical if she knew there was a spider in this cellar.

  She’d heard some buzzing in her ear a few times and wished that her hands were free to swat away the insects. At least, she and Marilyn could talk to each other. That was a blessing, something to be thankful for in the middle of this trip to hell.

  Bari heard several harsh voices upstairs raised in anger. She thought that the language they were speaking was Arabic. All Bari could understand was the tone, but that was enough to tell her that there was dissension amongst their captors.

  But it seemed that the heated discussions were only between two of them, Athir and the one he called Kazim. The voice of Kazim also spoke to the others with authority. He must be the leader, Bari thought, and Athir is not afraid to argue with him when they are alone. He said one of them was his brother. That’s it, Athir must not be afraid of him because he is his brother.

  Was this a good or bad thing for her and Marilyn? Bari had no idea. It was unnerving to listen to arguments that might determine her life or death and not to understand a word that was spoken.

  “Are you hurt at all?” Bari asked Marilyn as she leaned against her.

  “No. I mean, my hands hurt where they are tied together, my legs are asleep, and I can hardly sit anymore because my tailbone is aching. But otherwise, I think I’m okay. Bari, do you think we’ll get out of this alive?”

  “I don’t know. I heard Israel doesn’t negotiate with terrorists, but I’m unsure about America.”

  “I’m so scared, Bari. I wish I’d never come here.”

  “Me, too. My mom was right. She hated Israel. She knew something bad was going to happen to me if I came here. And it did…” Bari couldn’t hold back anymore. She began crying. “I wish I could just go home…”

  “Me, too. I keep thinking about that guy in the wheelchair that the terrorists threw off of the cruise ship a year ago. Do you remember? It was all over the news. My dad talked about it all the time.”

  “I remember something about that, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I think I can remember my parents talking about it a little. It happened somewhere in the Mediterranean. I’m not sure, but I think it was the PLO. They took control of a cruise ship, and they threw this old guy in a wheelchair off the deck and into the water, and he died. He was Jewish. It was terrible.”

  “Is that the same group who has us right now, the PLO?” Bari asked.

  “No, he said the FPN. I am really scared. I can’t believe that this is happening to us.”

  “Yeah, I know. I can’t, either. I feel like it’s a horrible nightmare and I’m going to wake up. Except it’s real, and I’m here, and you’re here…”

  “What are we going to do?” Marilyn asked.

  “The only thing we can do. We have to try to make that boy feel sorry for us. Maybe he’ll be able to talk his friends into letting us live.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Who knows? It’s not like we have any other options. I keep telling myself that Israel, America, my dad, or even my Israeli dad will somehow step in, but nobody seems to be doing anything at all. The guys upstairs sound so angry all the time. I wish I could understand what the hell they were saying,” Bari said.

  “I wish your dad would come and save us. Everyone knows that he is a master martial artist.”

  “Yeah, me too. But how would he ever find us? They have us buried in this underground cavern. I don’t think anybody can find us.”

  “Didn’t your father teach you karate?”

  “Yeah, he’s a sixth degree black belt. He’s been teaching me since I was really young. I know what to do, but I’m afraid to try to fight. This isn’t a movie. There are a lot of them. They have guns and weapons, and I’m worried that if I try to fight back and I don’t win, they will go crazy, and they could really hurt us.”

  The door creaked open. Bari said a silent prayer that it was Athir. She leaned against Marilyn, who leaned back against her. If it was Athir, she would try to make light talk, and maybe find some way to get him to empathize with them. If she could just reach him, somehow convince him that she and Marilyn were human beings just like him, that they deserved to live. He was the only one of their captors who seemed to know right from wrong.

  Being in the darkness for so long without sight, her ears had become extremely sensitive. The footsteps on the wooden stairs were much heavier than Athir’s. The first set of steps was followed by two more. It sounded like more than one person was coming down. Bari shuddered.

  A heavier, stronger man than Athir pulled Bari to her feet. Roughly he threw her over to the other man, and then did the same to Marilyn.

  Bari felt the breath catch in her throat. She wanted to fight back, but she trembled with fear. The consequences could be grave. She couldn’t take the risk, not now, not yet.

  “Athir,” the voice of Kazim yelled. Then he spoke angry words in Arabic to the others.

  “Please…” Marilyn said, whimpering.

  The man hit her across the face, and her lip began bleeding. Marilyn screamed. Athir came running down the stairs.

  “Do you think they are taking us to kill us?” Marilyn asked Bari, sobbing.

  “Shhhh…” Bari whispered.

  “Shut up,” Kazim said harshly, in English. “Don’t say another word, or I’ll kill you both.”

  Kazim was pointing to Bari’s mouth. He picked up some duct tape and threw it at Athir. “We’re taking them, now. Tape their mouths shut.”

  “I’m sorry,” Athir said in English, so Bari knew that he was speaking to Marilyn and herself. Then he taped Bari and Marilyn’s mouth. One of the men nudged Athir, and then shook his head in disgust.

  The tape across her lips made Bari feel like she was suffocating. It was hard to calm down enough to remember how to breathe through her nose. She was hyperventilating, drawing air quickly and violently as if she might be denied the privilege of breathing at any moment.

  “Let’s go,” Kazim said, in Arabic. “You two, move quickly.”

  Bari and Marilyn were surrounded on both sides by the terrorists. She perceived that they had gone through the front door to the street and heard motor noises and the sounds of chil
dren playing at a distance. As she was forced into the street, Bari felt the terror shoot through her entire body. She began to tremble uncontrollably. Someone hit her with the butt of a gun. She could not see who it was that delivered the blow. Then she heard Athir arguing with the others in Arabic.

  Please, she thought, please, Athir, don’t leave, you are the only small chance Marilyn, and I have of surviving this ordeal.

  One of the terrorists pushed the girls forward. Bari almost lost her balance, but she recovered and the two girls were herded into a vehicle. She thought it was a small bus of some kind because she tripped on a stair entering and felt the metal pierce her shin. The pain only reinforced the fear she felt as the vehicle began to move. Where were the terrorists taking them, Bari wondered. And Why? The feeling of total vulnerability was devastating.

  Without being able to see or understand the language, Bari had no inkling of what to expect. She could not see or hear Marilyn, so she wasn’t even sure that her friend was still beside her.

  Bari estimated the driving time at over an hour. Then, if things couldn’t possibly get more terrifying, they did when the vehicle stopped. Bari still had no idea if Marilyn was with her. She only knew that she was pushed headfirst out of the bus landing on her face in what seemed like dirt or sand. She felt the grit against the skin of her cheek.

  There was a stirring around her. She heard something that sounded like a blow, but she could not be sure who had been hit or even if someone had been struck. She hoped that Marilyn was all right.

  A rough hand pulled her to her feet, and then pushed her forward. She wished that she could speak, that she could ask Athir what was going to happen. But the tape covering her lips forbid her from making any sound. She wasn’t even aware that her tears were soaking the blindfold and couldn’t help but wonder if this was where the terrorists were bringing them to kill them.

  They walked only a few feet then entered an enclosure of some kind. The street noises stopped, the sun no longer on her cheek, and Bari could smell strange spices. Her heart pounded so hard that she felt like she might have a heart attack. Again the rough hands were upon her shoulder, forcing her down hard into a chair. She felt the hard base of the chair against her tailbone.

  A conversation in Arabic took place between Athir and Kazim. Marilyn and Bari could not see anything and were terrified with what might happen next.

  “In a few minutes, I am going to remove the tape from your mouths. Please, I am begging you not to scream. I don’t want these men to hurt you.” It was Athir.

  “I’m sorry. Please just do as you are told. Please don’t ask any questions. You are in terrible danger…” Athir said. “Listen to me. We are here at this place because you must make a phone call. We are going to make this call to let the Israeli government know that you are still alive. You must not say anything except that you are alive and that you are both unharmed. Do you understand me?” Athir said, to both Bari, and Marilyn. “If you don’t do as I tell you, they will kill you on the spot. Don’t say anything other than what I am telling you to say. Please, it is for your own safety.”

  The girls both nodded their heads.

  “If you say anything else—if you tell the Israelis anything else, the men here will hurt you. Please just do as they ask…”

  Again the girls nodded their heads.

  “Athir…You stay here! We will be right back. And you two girls...don’t try anything stupid, because if you do, I have no problem killing you. Do you understand? I will personally cut off your heads and hang them in front of the American Embassy.” It was Kazim speaking.

  The other terrorists left. Athir was alone with Marilyn and Bari. Bari knew this may be her last chance.

  She could hear him pacing the room, and Bari feel that he was quite distraught. She hoped he was feeling guilty, a bit frightened and perhaps worried enough about the consequences, to let her and Marilyn go.

  “Athir, have you ever had dreams for your life?” Bari asked.

  Athir was taken off-guard with the question. “I was accepted to go to medical school to be a doctor, he said, shaking his head.”

  “Where?”

  “In America.”

  “You know if you don’t let us go you will either be killed or go to prison. Even if you don’t get arrested, because of your associations, you will never get past the Terrorist Watch List to go to America, and you will never be a doctor.”

  “I know.”

  “The violence is wrong, but you can do your part to end it here, and now,” said Bari.

  “The Israelis do something to us, then we do something to them, and then they do something to us,” Athir said, seeming as if he was talking to himself. “We kill some Israeli teenagers, and they kidnap and kill one of ours. So, then we bomb a police station. They capture several of our members, and we threaten to kill two innocent girls. Where does this end? How will this ever end?”

  Because Athir was not convinced that what the terrorists were doing was right, the girls were hoping against all hope. Perhaps his conscience would force him to help them. The fact that Athir was so conflicted inside was a good thing.

  Bari believed that deep down he was a good person who had become too deeply involved with the wrong group. What words could she say to convince him to let them go? And, if by the grace of God he did free them, where were they? Bari could not be sure. They might be in the middle of the desert. If they were, how would they ever find their way out with no vehicle, and no water? How far was civilization and in which direction should they walk?

  “Athir,” Bari said, in a small voice. “Please, Athir, you are our only hope, please let us go. Please help us to get home to our families. We aren’t political. We are just two American girls who came to Israel, to visit. Please, Athir.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. The Israelis have my brother… I have to help free my brother from jail.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

  “Marilyn and I are only eighteen years old, Athir—just eighteen. How old are you?”

  He shook his head, but didn’t answer. Instead, he kept pacing the room like a caged panther.

  “We haven’t had a chance to live yet, Athir. We have never been married nor had children of our own. Marilyn and I didn’t do anything to you or your brother. We didn’t do anything to anyone. Please, Athir…please. You are a good person; I can tell. Let us go. Just untie us and let us go. Do the right thing, Athir.”

  “Shut up. Shut up, right now,” Athir cried out, covering his ears with his hands. He looked at Bari and then at Marilyn. It seemed as if he was going to untie them. Bari felt a glimmer of hope. If he freed them they would find a way back, she wasn’t sure how, but they would have a better chance than they did right now.

  Her heart was thundering in her chest. Untie us, Athir, she thought. Please, Athir. By his silence, she felt that he was considering releasing them. But then the rest of the group came bursting through the door and the moment was gone, lost forever.

  Bari felt sadness like she’d never known before.

  Five Arabic men were scattered around the room. One of the men plugged a thick, black desk phone into an outlet in the wall. They spoke to each other in Arabic as Marilyn and Bari were filled with panic. Anything could happen, Bari thought, anything at all.

  The man in charge dialed the phone. He put it on speaker while the rest of the group gathered around him. He motioned to Athir with his hand, indicating that Athir bring the girls closer.

  Athir took Marilyn and Bari by the shoulders and brought them closer to the telephone.

  Both girls were seated on the floor beside the phone. They heard the ringing.

  “This is the FPN. We are calling you to give you what you asked for, proof of life,” the man in charge said. “I’ve been told to speak to Elan Amsel. Put him on the phone immediately. I will not hold on the line long enough for you to trace the call. So hurry or I will hang up.”

  Mossad had been awaiting this telephone call.
The most modern tracing equipment was already in place and activated.

  Elan Amsel? Bari felt her throat close as she gasped. Her father? Did they know that he was her father? Is that why she was kidnapped?

  “This is Amsel,” the heavy baritone voice came through the telephone receiver. Bari heard her father’s voice for the first time. She felt as if she might cry. The entire scene was surreal to her.

  “You know who we are and why we are calling. Speak…” The thick man said to Marilyn, “Speak…state your name and tell the other party on the phone that you are alive.”

  In a small voice, Marilyn did as she was told.

  “Now, you.” He pointed to Bari.

  “My name is Bari Lynn Allen. I am alive, and I am unharmed.”

  ***

  In the offices of Mossad, Elan Amsel’s hand went to his heart. This was his child, his daughter, his blood. The terrorists didn’t know. He was sure of that. But just hearing her voice made all of it real for him. He felt dizzy and sick with worry.

  “You see. They are fine. So! Now you have three days to release the prisoners, or they will no longer be fine. They will be dead,” the leader said, smashing the phone down on its cradle.

  Then he turned to the other terrorists. “Hurry, we have to get them back into the van and get out of here, quickly, in case the call was traced. If it was and the Israelis have our location, they’ll be here in minutes. Hurry up,” Kazim tersely repeated.

  ***

  “Did you get a location on them?” Elan shouted to the men working with the tracing equipment.

  “Hold on, sir, we’re trying…”

  Elan felt as if his heart had stopped beating as he waited for what seemed like forever, but it was only seconds. He bit his lower lip, trying not to lose patience. He wanted to yell at his coworkers to tell them, to move faster. But he knew they were experts, doing the best job that was possible.

  “We lost them...”