by Tom Haase
“What can I do for you? I know that you are a special agent for the FBI. You see, I have kept up with your career moves,” the general said as he sat behind his desk.
“I certainly didn't expect the treatment you arranged when I arrived. It's far more than I deserved,” Matt said as he fashioned a warm smile.
“You deserve every bit of it. Besides those people at the airport owe me a few favors, and I just wanted to make sure you were expeditiously handled. Now what is of such grave urgency that brings you to Jerusalem?” the general asked.
Matt looked around the office, the epitome of military efficiency, before he answered. Everything rested in a place that looked like it belonged there. Only a picture of the Israeli Prime Minister hung on the wall and the Israeli flag with a Star of David hung behind his desk. A conference table with about six chairs stood over to one side of the room and on the other comprised of a computer console with a television tuned to CNN with the sound off.
“I'm chasing a terrorist. The one who detonated a bomb in the Washington, D.C. Metro a few days ago. We have him on video when he placed the bomb after he exited from the train. Using our facial recognition software we were able to determine the man’s identity and have traced him to an arrival in Tel Aviv yesterday. I provided his name to your aide on the journey over. He said he would find out where the man might be staying. When that happens I would like your assistance in apprehending him without going through the normal police channels. Is that possible?” Matt relaxed back into the chair and waited for an answer
“For you, anything is possible. The state of Israel owes you a great debt of thanks for what you did in preventing a major war here in the Middle East. One day I would like for you to sit with me and tell me what happened since your government released, shall we say, only the salient points. Coffee?” The general asked.
“Would love some,” Matt responded. Magically, an orderly appeared offering coffee. Before Matt could take the first sip, a knock on the door. The aide-de-camp entered.
“General, we have located where Scott Donavan is staying in Jerusalem. Do you want me to have the police apprehend the man?”
“Is it possible for you to provide me with transportation so that I can do this myself?” Matt asked. “I'll be on the next flight out when I have him in custody. I don't want any talk of extradition or that the FBI doesn't have jurisdiction here. Is that agreeable?”
“You are to render any assistance this man requires,” the general directed. “He does not want anyone outside of this office to know about this.”
The aide nodded.
“If we leave now, we should be at his hotel in an hour, around 10:00 p.m.,” the aide said, opening the door, waiting for Matt to accompany him.
“Thank you, General, for all your help,” Matt said as he stood. “I know that neither you nor any of your people assisted me in any way. As a matter of fact, I'm not even here.”
The general smiled and said, “Funny, I can't remember ever seeing you. I have no recollection of ever meeting an FBI agent in Israel. But if he is the terrorist, make sure you take care of him.”
Matt followed the aide out to a waiting car and gave himself a self-satisfying grin. He would have the bastard within the hour. He would “take care of him” to satisfy the general and to placate his internal feeling of hatred toward all terrorists. It somehow made him feel better when he thought of what he would do, in a small way, to avenge the murder of his wife by fanatic jihadists when they drove that plane into the pentagon.
Scott Donavan was as good as his.
34
Jerusalem Hotel
Jonathan McGregor assisted in lowering Gerti to the floor.
“Take care of your sister,” Jonathan said. “She needs you now.”
Scott ran over to the bed and flipped the sheet to cover his sister's naked body. He grabbed the cloth from her mouth and jerked it out.
“Am I glad to see you,” Bridget shouted. “What took you so long?”
Scott looked at her in amazement. He noticed a small grin appearing on her face, and he felt immediate relief.
“Get me out of this,” she pleaded. She couldn't move her head, which was tied by the rope to the bedpost.
“Just a second,” Scott said as he pulled out his pocketknife and sliced through the rope. “You're lucky somebody came up to see you, or we would still be in the bar drinking.” He rolled her on her side and sliced open the binds holding her wrists.
“Who is it? Is he the one that shot him?” Bridget blurted out.
“Yes, it's our guardian angel, the monsignor.”
Bridget sat up holding the sheet around her. She rolled her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She reached down to grab her clothes from where her attacker had thrown them. She threw them on to a chair with a disgusting facial expression and turned back.
“Thank you, Jonathan. Let me get into the bathroom and get new clothes before I appear in front of a priest, a monsignor no less,” Bridget said, walking toward the bathroom door, holding the sheet close.
“Please hurry, Bridget,” Jonathan said.
“Will somebody please help me?” Gerti said in a weak voice.
“If I pull the knife, she's going to bleed. Maybe even die,” Jonathan said. The knife looked buried between her shoulder and her armpit. “I don't think it went through any vital organs.”
Scott cradled Gerti while getting her to sit up.
“Let's get her to her room. It's just down the hall,” Scott said.
“Why move her? Let's call for the EMT's,” Bridget said, reemerging fully dressed. She gave Jonathan a hug and a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for saving me. What happened to her?”
“She didn't stay put outside like we told her,” Scott said in a pissed off tone.
“What's your plan?” Jonathan addressed Scott.
“We need to move fast to get her some help, but we don't want anyone to come to this room with that bastard's corpse in view. Let's get her out of here, and we'll call for help in less than a minute from her room. Understand?” Scott got a nod from both of them. He reached down and gingerly picked Gerti up under the arms and waited for Jonathan to grab the legs. When they heaved her up, the cell phone on her belt fell to the floor.
“I'll get it” Bridget said.
They hurried to her room, and Scott took the room key from her pocket. They placed her on the bed and handed her the bedside phone.
“Tell the operator you've been stabbed and need an ambulance. Nothing else,” Jonathan said.
She said that when the operator came on line and then hung up. Scott still held her hand.
“You bitch,” Bridget hurled at her when she came running into the room. “I'm going to finish you off.”
“Whoa!” Scott stepped in front of her. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Bridget held up the cell phone and read the text message that appeared on the phone.
“Get away from Bridget ASAP and return home. The Bible is with Jake and he is bringing it to me through Cairo. Come quick.”
“She knew about the attack,” Bridget stressed.
“I was coming to warn you when I read the message outside your room, but I was too late,” Gerti mumbled. “That's why I didn't stay put like Scott ordered.”
“Liar. You were in cahoots with Jake all along. You two were going to cut us out and keep the Bible. Leave her and let's get out of here before the EMTs arrive. You had better keep your mouth shut about what we are doing here. You understand?” Bridget looked at Gerti.
“Say that you opened your door and a man whom you never saw before stabbed you. You slammed the door on his arm and he ran off. You don't know anything else,” Jonathan said.
“Yes, I won't tell anyone. Now get out of here,” Gerti said in a weak voice and she lost consciousness.
“I still want to kill her,” Bridget said as they rushed out.
35
Bridget's Room
Scott slammed the door s
hut after they were all back in Bridget's room. Bridget started stuffing her possessions into a backpack. She stopped and spat on the corpse of her attempted rapist when she reached over the body to pick up her laptop.
“Scott, you better go to your room.” Jonathan opened the door for Scott to leave. “Get your stuff. We'll meet you in the lobby. I suggest we get out of here before anyone starts searching the room after she tells them that she was stabbed by someone she didn't know.”
“Are we going to run away?” Scott said, looking at Bridget.
Bridget didn't answer. She thought about what happened to her this night. She felt like she bordered on losing it, maybe even crying. The thought of that big rapist made her tremble. She wanted to let it out, but that would not do. She was tougher. She had to be. In her mind, she forced the fear out and overcame the desire to let it out. This nightmare would be with her for many years, but right now wasn’t the time to dwell on it, but a time for action.
“Hell, no,” Bridget said. “We're going after that bastard Jake. Don't you see it? Schultz and his daughter played us, and they are all connected. Jake duped us. I bet you he found the Bible in the dead bishop's house while he diverted us to the other cleric's home. He must have been the man you saw leaving that house.”
“It's 9:45. We need to be out of here in ten minutes or the police will be here,” Jonathan said. “ I left my bag in the bar. We'll pick it up on the way out. By the way, where are we going?”
“We need to find Jake,” Scott said as he headed for his room. “We'll fill you in as we go.”
Bridget remained behind. She put her hands to her face. Tears ran down her cheeks. What a hell of a night. She caught herself and shook it off. Not the time to cry, but the time to move.
Five minutes later, Scott and Bridget were in the hotel lobby.
“We need to catch a flight to Cairo,” Scott said as he rushed up to Bridget.
“I don't know,” Bridget chimed in. “Where is Jonathan? He left my room right after you did. Oh, here he comes,” she said when she saw Jonathan's approach.
“We're thinking of going to the airport to catch the next flight to Cairo,” Scott said.
“That might not be the best route,” Jonathan said. “Cairo is a big place.”
“Why not? What do you think?” Bridget asked.
“I think Jake knows he would never get out of Israel with such an artifact. I know from my friend at the Vatican Museum that it is large and weights about fifteen pounds. The Israelis inspect all baggage on aircraft and I don't believe he would try to go by air. Now out of Cairo, maybe, as their security may not question an old book.”
“He would have to fly out of there and I think we should fly there to head him off at the airport,” Scott said.
“Wait a minute,” Bridget said. “I see what Jonathan is getting at. He could hide for days in Cairo, and we would never find him. We don't know where he is or where he is going,” Bridget said.
The conversation stopped as emergency vehicles arrived in front of the hotel. Flashing blue lights, sirens, and then EMT personnel entering the hotel. Police officers came behind the paramedics.
“Let's get outside now before the police decide to close off the hotel,” Bridget urged.
They moved as a group to the entrance, and Jonathan pointed at a taxi with its lights on a short distance down the street. The group headed for the vehicle.
“I did a little questioning of the hotel porter when I came down before you,” Jonathan said. “If Jake has the Bible and he is going to Cairo as the text message said, then he is already on his way. It didn't say anything about flying.”
“Good idea.” Scott went over to the hotel's main door porter. He handed the porter a tip and then he returned. “The porter told me Mr. Jake took a taxi to the bus terminal a half hour ago.”
When they approached the taxi, the driver got out and opened the trunk. They threw their gear in and then got into the car.
“Let's go get him,” Bridget urged. She pushed the horror of her attempted rape experience to the back of her mind. She now had a new mission that required all her faculties.
“I'm here to help and I'm coming with you. No arguments,” Jonathan said.
Bridget and Scott both nodded. In for a penny, in for a dollar Bridget thought. She had sworn to herself that she would get the Bible of Constantine no matter what, no matter the cost.
36
Washington, D.C.
FBI Headquarters
“Hello,” Liz said as she opened the phone on the first ring. “Where the hell are you?”
“I left the hotel where I thought I was going to capture the bastard. But his room and the room of his sister were both empty. There was a young lady, a Gertrude Schultz, who was stabbed in her room on the same floor. There was also a dead black man in Bridget Donavan's room. He'd been shot twice. My guess is he attempted to rape her based on the fact he was shot near the bed and his privates were exposed.”
“Sounds like you have been busy. What do I do now?” Liz asked.
“I'm going to see that woman who got stabbed as soon as they get her out of surgery,” Matt said. “See what you can find out about a Gertrude Schultz from New York City. The hotel says that's the address she gave which she signed in. There may be a connection with the Donavans.”
“What makes you think that?” Liz asked.
“Too many coincidences on the same floor at the same time. You know what I believe about coincidence. They should happen once every time a dinosaur is born,” Matt said in a lighthearted voice. “What have you got for me?”
“I ran down his parents and all of his school friends, and there is nothing to indicate that this man has any connection to any type of terrorist organization,” Liz stated.
“I don't give a damn. We saw him exit the train with a bomb and it went off. There has to be something in his background.”
Liz waited a few seconds before responding. “I've not been able to find anything. I'll keep trying, but my gut is starting to tell me we’re barking up the wrong tree. I'm going to explore more with the forensic guidance on where the material for the bomb and its detonator were purchased. That may lead us directly to him or to someone else,” Liz concluded.
“Any pressure from the boss?”
“Not yet, he thinks you're out doing interviews. I told you I would cover,” Liz said.
Matt disconnected after thanking her. In his mind there had to be some way of connecting Scott Donavan to the terrorist act in DC. Right now he needed to go to the hospital and interview the girl.
On arrival, he waited an hour before he could see her. The Israeli police were interviewing her, and his military friend told him to sit tight and they would get him in after the police left. The girl looked ashen when he entered but appeared alert and aware of his presence.
“I know you are in pain, Ms. Schultz, but I have been granted permission by the Israeli authorities to ask you a few question. I'm Special Agent Matt Higgins of the FBI.”
“Why are you here?” Gerti asked.
She did not seem to be over drugged and her speech sounded strong and clear. Her complexion remained pale. Matt noticed that even lying on the bed covered with the white sheet, her beauty manifested itself.
If this woman knew anything about the Donavans, he needed to find out as much as he could. He did not know if she did but decided on a course of action.
“Ms. Schultz, I know that you and the Donavans were friends. You may have heard that a man was found dead in Bridget Donavan's room shortly after you were brought to this hospital. I believe you know more details about that than you have revealed up to now,” Matt said.
“I don't have anything to say to you. We're not in America, and you have no jurisdiction here in Israel,” Gerti said and then closed her eyes to indicate she didn’t intend to talk any more.
“I want to impress something on you. I'm after a terrorist. A terrorist who detonated the bomb on the Metro in Washington three days
ago. That terrorist is Scott Donavan.” He stopped talking and waited.
The noises of a hospital filled the air. Trolleys being rolled down the hall, the movement of nurses and orderlies moving about and the low sounds emanating from multiple televisions in various rooms to help pass the hours for the patients. The distinctive odor of the disinfectants used to sterilize the halls and other rooms subtly filled his nostrils. Hospitals were not his favorite place.
Gerti opened her eyes. “I don't believe you. Scott would never do that.”
He had been right. She knew him.
“I'm afraid he did. We have the video from the Metro platform where he is placing the bomb and then he ran off before it exploded. There is no doubt that he is the man who did that,” Matt emphasized the last words. “Now I need you to tell me where he has gone.” Matt decided to push. “You know where he is, and I know you know. So tell me. Or when you come back to the US, I'll have you for aiding and abetting a known terrorist.”
“You can try, but you would never prove it, and my father would have your ass in court for years.”
Thinking he needed to soften up to get her cooperation without threats, Matt took a new tactic. “Okay, I'm not here to badger you. You've been through enough with the knife attack. But you must realize that I have to capture Scott Donavan for his actions in Washington. Do you want other people to die because you believe him innocent? If he is, a court should determine that, not you or me. I want to prevent another attack on Americans. Please help me to do that by telling me why he came to Israel and where he is now?”
Gerti scrunched he eyes shut and let out a long exhalation. “I don't want anyone to die in a terrorist attack. I still don't think Scott is involved, but I'll tell you what I know.”
It took her a half hour to relate all the events of her acquaintance with Scott. Toward the end, she drifted off a few minutes at a time as some of the sedatives started to take effect. The last piece of information she provided pointed him in the direction of where the Donavans would chase Cornelius Jake. She told him that she thought Jake would go by land as it would be impossible to get the Bible out of Israel by commercial air, and the ports were just as strict on taking boats.
