by Brad Taylor
In short order, the place was blanketed with border police, locking down the entire Temple Mount complex. One came to her, and she said, “I don’t know what this guy does here, but I’m not sure he isn’t involved. He came running out, toward the gunfire. Anybody innocent would have run away.”
The Arab said, “I was trying to warn you! I was trying to stop it!”
Still in a bloodlust, she kicked him away and said, “Sure you were, shithead.”
Two border police grabbed him, forcing his hands behind his back. He looked at her and said, “I was trying to help.”
She caught his eyes and his aura radiated out. As it always did, whether she asked for it or not. She wanted to hate him, but she couldn’t. He was hiding something, but he wasn’t evil. She banished the thought, letting the police solve the problem.
Aaron came to her, ignoring the ring of guns aimed his way. He asked if she was hurt, the concern evident. She shook her head, looking at the blood on his knuckles. She said, “I guess I was right.”
He smiled and said, “As always.”
Pike went to Jennifer, also ignoring the policemen surrounding the group, and Shoshana watched closely, wanting to learn. He embraced her, then whispered in her ear. She saw Jennifer wipe the blood from her hands onto her thigh, nodding. And then he kissed her gently, saying something that brought a smile to her face. The softness and caring Pike displayed surprised Shoshana. He had never shown her anything but hard edges and a bluster that he held in front of him as a shield. He looked her way, saw her staring, and scowled.
So he hides it.
She glanced back at Aaron, wondering if he did the same thing, but knew instinctively he was transparent. He’d lived with the abuses heaped on his team for taking her, and had disregarded what anyone said about her patriotism and skill, standing up for her when others would not. He’d brought her into his fold when nobody else would, and now had no need to hide anything.
Pike and Jennifer walked over to them, and Pike leaned in close, searching her for wounds. She saw the worry and said, “I’m okay. Thank you. I thought I was on my own.”
He said, “Well, you’re lucky that Aaron went batshit like you did, because I was headed back down the walkway.”
She smiled, and he cupped her chin. He flicked his head to Jennifer and said, “Thank you.”
She nodded.
Jennifer said, “What now?”
The police response was getting out of control, the plaza blanketed by uniformed members, with at least five holding them in place with their weapons, not letting them move more than five feet. A lieutenant barreled forward shouting in Hebrew, saying they needed to close on the cell that’d done the attack before they fled the city.
Shoshana glanced his way, then did a double take. She saw red. A threat.
In English, the Arab Waqf member she’d captured said, “Ezra . . .”
In Hebrew, the border police lieutenant said, “Take that Waqf member into isolation. Get him out of here and don’t let him talk to anyone.”
He turned to another man and said, “How many injured? How many dead?”
“None, sir. Well, none innocent. The terrorists are all dead.”
The lieutenant appeared shocked at the answer. “What?”
“Yes, sir. Those people stopped them all.”
Shoshana saw him point their way. Pike asked, “What’s being said?”
Aaron said, “Just getting a casualty count. Which is zero.”
The lieutenant approached, and the heat he held followed him. Shoshana read him as a threat, and had no idea why.
He said, “Who are you?”
Shoshana saw his name tag, Ezra Kravitz, and her eyes narrowed. Aaron handed him their passes to the Temple Mount, and like everyone else, the lieutenant was impressed.
He said, “Thank you for what you’ve done. We can always count on the average Israeli to defend ourselves from this scum. It’s why they’ll never win.”
In English, Aaron said, “These two are American. And they aren’t average.”
Ezra nodded politely, then turned to the police and said, “Let them go.”
The group of police surrounding them clapped them on the back and moved away, their guns no longer a threat. Shoshana watched Ezra lean over the leader of the attack, the one from the antiquities shop, searching his body. He found something, then shouted to the commander of the police force securing the area.
“I need four men. This terrorist has a shop on Via Dolorosa, and it’s one I know. The owner was arrested for antiquities fraud, probably financing this attack. We need to search his place before his support system escapes. Make no mistake, they didn’t do this on their own.”
The commander of the guard snapped some orders, and Ezra left at a trot, followed by four men armed to the teeth.
Aaron watched them go and said, “It doesn’t look like we’re getting married today. At least not here. They’re going to lock this whole place down.”
Pike nodded and said, “Good trade-off if you ask me.”
Shoshana watched the scrum of police disappear and said, “No. We’re not getting married today, because we’re not through. I want to talk to that Waqf guy.”
Aaron said, “Why?”
“That shop wasn’t on the list of implicated antiquities dealers. We wouldn’t have been targeted against it yesterday if it were. Yet that lieutenant said it was.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow, saying, “And?”
“And that lieutenant is a threat. I don’t know why, but he’s shining as hot as a thermite grenade. The guy from the Waqf is the key.”
Aaron said, “You sure? You want to push this? Now?”
Shoshana understood what he was asking, knowing she was giving up what she’d dreamed about her entire tormented life. She locked eyes with him and said, “Yes. We can wait. We will wait. That man from the Islamic Waqf is hiding something. I can see it. And whatever it is, it’s dangerous.”
Pike said, “So let the police sort it out. Why does it have to be you?”
She said, “They won’t be able to. What he’s hiding only I can find.”
14
I tapped Aaron on the shoulder and leaned in to his ear. “This isn’t going to end well. You need to pull her back.”
He said, “She believes there is a threat. And if she believes it, then there is one.”
I said, “It doesn’t matter one bit what she believes here. That pass from the Ramsad held no sway, and she’s going to get arrested.”
We’d found out the Waqf official had been hustled to an isolation cell in a border police station on the western side of the plaza. Shoshana had rushed over, not waiting on any sort of discussion, and had been immediately stonewalled. The papers Aaron held and our actions on the Temple Mount were duly noted, but the Waqf guy was ordered to be in isolation, and the minions who were running the show at the station were not going to break their orders. Which was aggravating the hell out of Shoshana.
She was talking to the third flunky since we’d arrived, and getting the same answers. She demanded yet again to at least see the Waqf official, and was rebuffed. They hadn’t gotten rude yet, but Shoshana had an incredible skill at turning goodwill into aggravation.
I heard her say, “Let me talk to your boss.”
The current official she was arguing with said, “I am the boss, and I’m telling you no. If you want to talk to him, you can wait until Ezra returns.”
That triggered Shoshana. I saw the menace at the same time Aaron did, and we both started forward. Jennifer held up a hand and said, “I got it.”
She ran to the desk and pulled Shoshana back, whispering in her ear. Shoshana calmed down. I turned to Aaron and said, “I know you trust her instincts, but this is a waste of time. Let the police sort it out. What does she think she’s doing?”
A door opened, and we saw the Waqf official being led in by four men, his head down and his hands cuffed behind his back. He turned and looked at us, and Shoshana stiffened. He disappeared behind a steel door, and she ran back to us.
She said, “We need to go. We’re not going to get anything else done here.”
I saw that Aaron was willing to continue the insanity. I said, “Shoshana, what are you trying to do? We stopped a terrorist attack today. What else is there?”
She ignored me. Aaron said, “What did you see?”
“That man is innocent. They’re going to kill him because they believe he’s bad. They’re wrong, and Lieutenant Ezra knows it.”
I said, “Shoshana, come on. You can’t possibly believe that. We just stopped a Palestinian terrorist attack. You yourself said that guy was running to the sound of the guns instead of running away. Let the security forces handle this.”
She turned to me and said, “I watched a man die once. One I knew was innocent. I will never do that again.”
I was taken aback at her expression. It was raw, like road rash from a motorcycle wreck. I said, “Mikhail?”
She nodded.
Mikhail was her control at Mossad before she’d found Aaron. He’d been killing Palestinians to protect a black market racket he was running, and he’d made the mistake of using Shoshana to do so through sexual means, telling her they were terrorist targets. She’d done it once, and then refused a second time, based solely on her conviction from what she’d seen in her mark. The fallout had caused him to be released from the Mossad, and her to be regarded as a traitor by many in the organization. Only Aaron had been willing to give her a chance.
She said, “This is the same thing. Lieutenant Ezra is bad, and he needs to be stopped.” She floated her weird glow over me, testing the bounds of my loyalty.
She said, “You don’t believe me. I see it. But we need you. You and Jennifer. The police will do nothing, because Ezra outranks them, just like the others in the Mossad looked away in the past. Follow me now. Please.”
She knew what she was asking was beyond what anyone should, but she believed she could convince me, because once upon a time she had with Mikhail. A year ago, after Mikhail had attempted to murder both my team and Shoshana, Jennifer and I had set him up for her to kill, a cathartic release of the pain she had experienced at his hands.
Before I could say anything, Jennifer nodded. “Okay. We’ll do it. But what is ‘it’?”
I whipped my head to her, and then went to Shoshana. She stared at me, begging for my concurrence. She knew, at the end of the day, my decision was what would matter, regardless of what Jennifer said. Her face was as serious as if she was searching for cancer, then it broke into a smile, aggravating me. I’d made my decision, and she didn’t have the decency to let me utter it.
I started to say something, and she said, “Let’s go. We need to interdict them at the antiquities shop. That’s where Ezra was heading.”
Jennifer and Shoshana began walking to the exit, and Aaron pulled me back, not letting me follow. “Pike, this is not without risk.”
I said, “Yeah, yeah, I get it, but it’s not as bad as the risk you’re taking. I don’t have to live with her for the rest of my life. Good luck with that.”
I started to turn away, and he held my sleeve. He said, “She’s right. I believe it, but this is dangerous. There might be some killing that happens. Killing of uniformed Israelis. I am committed because of Shoshana, but you need to realize what might happen if you do the same. There could be serious repercussions that Shoshana’s instincts won’t protect against.”
Jennifer reached the door, then turned back, wondering where we were. She looked at me, and I saw she was all in. Wanting to right the wrongs of the world regardless of the repercussions. And Aaron was correct: They could be heavy.
She locked eyes with me, seeing the hesitation in my face, and she opened the door, telling me she was going with or without me.
I said, “Fuck it. We’re going. By the time we’re done, Shoshana will probably have killed anyone who can testify against me.”
Aaron smiled and said, “You may be right.”
I started walking to the door and said, “If I don’t do it, I’ll never get to see the shit show of your wedding. That alone is worth the price.”
15
We exited the station at a run, Shoshana and Jennifer in the lead because Aaron and I had no idea where we were going. Darting down alleys and cobblestone streets, the stone walls echoing our footsteps like they had for a millennia of people before, we left the Jewish Quarter and entered the Muslim one, dodging through throngs of people shopping at the various stalls.
We went through a tunnel full of tourists, then hit an intersection of roads. Shoshana pulled up underneath a round metal placard with the Roman numeral II etched in it. She said, “The shop is fifty meters to the west. I say we enter hard, demanding to see Ezra.”
I said, “What about the police with him?”
“We deal with them, if we have to.”
Aaron said, “But nothing lethal except to save your own life. He took the first four men who were standing around, so I doubt they’re in on a grand conspiracy.”
I nodded, and Shoshana pointed up to the placard, saying, “Your messiah picked up the cross here, before carrying it to his death. It’s a good omen.”
Jennifer was transfixed by the juxtaposition of history.
I said, “How is that good? They crucified him.”
“And in so doing, made him more powerful. It transformed the world.”
I snorted, saying, “I’ll carry the cross, but no damn way am I dying.”
Shoshana smiled like a wolf. “I know. You’re going to prevent death. Just like he did.”
Aaron said, “I’ll lead. Pike, get right behind me. Shoshana and Jennifer, flow in after us.”
I said, “Let’s go.”
We sprinted down the alley until we reached a shop with a sign reading, HOLY LAND ARTIFACTS. Aaron held up for a split second, surveying through a window. He said, “Four in the lobby, which means there’s one more somewhere else.” He didn’t wait for acknowledgment, reaching for the handle of the door and swinging it open.
The men whirled at our entrance, weapons raised. We held up our hands, and Aaron began rattling off in Hebrew. The men lowered their weapons, looking hesitant about what to do. Ezra wasn’t in the room. Shoshana demanded something in Hebrew, and the men grew agitated.
I heard a shout through the back office, the door wide open. Then someone said in English, “Pick up the pistol.”
Another voice said, “No. I won’t.”
“Pick it up! Or I’ll just put it in your dead hand. Your choice.”
Shoshana had heard enough. She began running to the back room, the action startling the nearest policeman. He dove on her, bringing her to the ground. She started to fight, and another one drew his pistol, pointing it at her head, shouting something in Hebrew.
The others snapped into a security posture, aiming their weapons at us. One of them began talking, and I saw Aaron raise his hands. Jennifer and I did the same.
I thought, Well, this just turned into a shit sandwich.
The voice in the office screamed, “Pick up the pistol!”
The other voice said, “What has happened? Was it my brother? Did you catch the man with the bomb?”
Nobody we’d fought had a bomb, and that was enough for Shoshana. She shot to her feet and the policeman jammed the pistol into her temple, his face a mask of rage. I thought he was going to pull the trigger.
The voice in the office said, “Don’t shoot! Okay, okay! I’ll pick up the pistol.”
With a gun to her temple, the entire mission over, Shoshana locked eyes with her touchstone and said, “Aaron. Stop this. Now.”
It was hard to describe what happene
d next. Aaron heard the words, and his aura changed in front of my eyes, like watching the transformation of Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. He turned into something else entirely, just like Shoshana did, but it was worse than anything I’d ever seen her become.
Then he attacked, a whirlwind of violence ripping through the police around him.
He turned to the first man, trapped his pistol with his left hand, the barrel pointing to the roof, and destroyed him in a flurry of blows with his right, his hand and elbow moving too fast to see, but the sound of a blunt object hitting meat told the tale.
Before his target had hit the ground, I lashed out backward with a boot, catching the second policeman in the gut with a mule kick, causing an explosion of air from his lungs and forcing him to bend in half. Aaron was on him in a second, wrapping his arms around the back of the man’s skull and driving his knee into his face like a piston, until the policeman simply fell.
The man with Shoshana pulled the pistol away from her temple, turning the barrel to our fight and giving Shoshana space. She snarled, locked the hand holding the pistol, and rotated the wrist in a large circle, against the direction it was intended to go. The man leapt off his feet to avoid the pain, flipping in the air before slamming into the ground.
The policeman who had tackled Shoshana turned to attack her, and Jennifer bounded to him, grabbing two fistfuls of hair at the back of his head and yanking toward the ground. The target’s body flew backward, instinctively trying to prevent his neck from breaking, helping Jennifer in her task. His feet went out from under him, and Jennifer bounced his skull against the floor.
All of it happened in the span of two seconds, but it may not have been quick enough. Aaron and I both raced to the back office, Aaron reaching it just as Ezra came to the door, leading with a pistol. Aaron grabbed his forearm and slammed it into the frame of the door, a bone breaking with an audible crack. The pistol flew across the room, and Aaron ran to it, snatching it up. Ezra retreated back into the office, holding his arm and running to something on the floor.
I followed right behind him, seeing a Palestinian boy on his knees, his eyes wide at the battle. In front of him was an old revolver. Ezra reached for it, and the boy slapped it away, the pistol skidding across the floor under a desk. Ezra screamed in frustration, and I was on him.
