Authors: Niv Kaplan
"Anything?" Mikki asked dryly, happy to see him safely back, but not expecting much.
"No," Eitan remarked, freeing himself from the hunting belt and climbing into the passenger seat, "same ol' shit Mikki, barking dogs and stink.”
"What do we do?" Mikki asked gloomily, firing up the Jeep. Eitan looked at him but did not speak. He had expressed his doubts about their ability to pull off such a complicated task but had agreed to give it a try. Now that he had, he simply wanted to return home, crawl into bed with Naomi, and forget he was ever involved in such a futile affair.
He felt for Mikki but thought he would be better off concentrating on his future than flirting with his past. He understood his grief and wished he had never found the film and rekindled such desperate hope.
CHAPTER 17
They had no real plan of action for when "the ox" surfaced, just as they had no plan beyond Jalabia. Mikki greatly appreciated his partners' concern and goodwill but he also knew that in comparison to him, they had far less emotional investment in the affair and that it would be up to him to sustain a level of interest that would keep them going. They each had their own set of priorities and after the initial failure the excitement began to diminish.
He agonized greatly over what to do next, but could not come up with a sensible strategy. The bits and pieces of information gathered by Sarah and Nadav led back to the same dead end avenues of three years ago.
Finding "the ox" remained the only opening in what appeared to be a tightly closed and sealed case.
He considered spending a few more weeks watching villages in the vicinity. He considered ambushing and interrogating the inhabitants of house eleven. He considered watching Zabda, the village of the other two terrorists killed with Raul. He considered roaming the entire northern country flashing her photo around. He even considered turning back to the authorities.
Nothing seemed sensible.
He found himself cruising his dad's new Fiat UNO toward Kiryat Shmona. It was Thursday. A full week had passed since they abandoned Jalabia and he was becoming more and more restless. He had talked to Sarah and Eitan on the phone on a daily basis but found no comfort. Nadav promised to pay him a visit on the weekend if he got his leave. He said he may have stumbled upon some interesting information but Mikki wasn't holding his breath.
The highway twisted and turned as Mikki stepped on the gas whipping obliviously through the dangerous curves. He eased up as the urban signs began to appear limiting his speed. He entered the town and made an abrupt right hand turn into a small street. Tires screeching, he flew through a web of narrow streets coming to a halt in front of Salim's Bakery. He hadn't seen the kind old baker in a while and figured a taste of fresh pita bread with goat cheese and some black coffee would do him some good.
Salim greeted him cheerfully as he stepped through the powdered door, and immediately mobilized his wife and kids in honor of his guest. Fresh pita bread with Labaneh, coffee and sweet baklava was served in no time as the two friends chatted.
"How's the civilian life treating you, Mikki?" Salim inquired.
"Oh, I've known better days," Mikki sighed.
"The shift isn't easy," the baker stated knowingly. Mikki nodded. "Any short term plans Mikki?"
"Yeah, find Karen.”
It was said matter-of-factly as if it was common conversation but Salim was taken by surprise. He religiously made a point of not meddling in anyone's private affairs and had followed the case from afar making sure not to influence Mikki with useless advice. Mikki had confided in him way back when, but they had not discussed the matter in years.
"We found some new information," Mikki explained, seeing the confusion in the baker's eyes.
Salim raised a heavy eyebrow but waited patiently, not wanting to pressure Mikki. Pure instinct made Mikki pull the photo from his shirt pocket and flash it at the baker, who took the photo from the outstretched hand and studied it closely.
Mikki noticed him wince, as if in sudden pain. He took a few short breaths, sprung surprisingly light on his feet and disappeared into the oven room. He was back in a flash, shouting orders at the people inside. He sat down, gulped the rest of his coffee and handed the photo back to Mikki, avoiding his look.
"Are you alright?" Mikki asked, genuinely concerned. He had never seen him act that way.
"Yeah, Mikki.
I just thought I smelled something burning. Isam, my wife's brother, has started working for me and has already cost me a few good loaves of bread. But don't you worry about it my friend," he said, still fidgeting and avoiding Mikki's gaze.
"Did you recognize Karen in the photo?" Mikki asked, returning to the original topic.
Salim nodded. His eyes fixed on the ground. "It's OK, Salim, we can talk about her.”
The baker looked up. "I don't know Mikki; you know I don't like to mess in your business.”
"See here, Salim, I appreciate your courtesy but if I'm ever going to get over this, I need to talk about it and I'd rather talk about it with my friends.”
"But it's been so long Mikki..," the baker continued to protest.
"Yeah, but this photo is the first real evidence of her alive since the day we were here.”
Salim looked down again and shook his head. They sat in silence for a while. Salim's wife collected the coffee tray. The atmosphere became uncomfortable. Mikki got up to leave.
Salim stopped him at the door.
"I know the two fellows," he said quietly, sending shock waves through Mikki's body.
Mikki turned as if bitten by a snake.
"They've been regular customers for the last three years," Salim continued.
Mikki was stunned. "Didn't you suspect anything…?"
Salim looked hurt. "No, Mikki, I realized it when you showed me the photo.”
That explained his curious reaction.
He went on. "A few weeks after Karen disappeared these two started appearing here regularly. They were acting somewhat strange, a bit intimidating, but I never imagined the reason. I simply thought they were a couple of bullies. I've handled these types before and since they didn't hurt the business, I never much cared.”
"When I saw the photo, it all clicked into place. Only now do I understand their reason for coming here and trying to intimidate me. They probably figured I had seen something and wanted to make sure I kept quiet.”
"What could you have seen?" Mikki asked carefully.
"They could have been following you that morning and were worried I had seen them when you stopped by.”
"Was a car following me after we stopped here?" Mikki asked
, needing to make sure Salim was being honest.
The baker looked hurt again but answered all the same. "If there was Mikki, I did not see it, and this is the last time I'm going to justify my actions from three years ago. You know damn well if I could have helped the investigation then, I would have.”
Mikki was speechless and excited at the same time. He needed to think. "Have they been here lately?"
"Only the big guy, in fact he was here just last week.”
Mikki thought he'd bypass disclosing the rest of the story for the time being.
"Will he be back?" he asked.
Salim nodded. "They've long stopped trying to intimidate me but he still comes at least once a week mostly on Fridays, early, very early. I guess he learned to appreciate my bread.”
Mikki was not amused by Salim's attempt at humor. His mind
raced.
Salim was serious again. "Mikki, keep me out of this. I can lose everything," he said.
Mikki put his arm around the heavy baker's dusty broad shoulders. "Sorry for doubting you there for a moment, old friend," he apologized, feeling elated at the turn of events.
Salim nodded and looked down accepting the apology.
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There was only one route for anyone driving a car to leave the bakery. It was a narrow one-way street that ran for about two kilometers ending at an intersection that led back to town in one direction, and toward the heart of the Hula valley in the other. The narrow street ran between warehouse structures and small factories of
Kiryat Shmona's industrial zone, clearing the buildings a few hundred meters from the intersection.
They set up the trap past the last warehouse.
Sarah insisted on performing solo, legitimately arguing that a man was more likely to stop if she was in the car on her own.
It was dangerous, but the three men had to accept her reasoning. "The ox" was presumably an extremely suspicious character, having been able to avoid the competent Shabac for so long. A woman, alone in a Volkswagen Beetle, seemed an appropriate trap.
The three sat crouched in the hunting Jeep, hidden from view behind an empty shed overlooking the street. Sarah was in her Beetle, around a slight bend, approximately two hundred meters away. It was five thirty Friday morning. A trickle of vehicles passed drowsily by, on their way to an early shift. If all went according to plan, "the ox" was due to pass within the hour. Salim gave an accurate description of his Peugeot station wagon but could not pledge an exact time. He did say that he cannot recall him ever getting in later than six thirty.
They had taken their positions at four thirty with thermoses filled with coffee, sandwiches and chocolate bars to keep the adrenaline flowing. It was an unseasonably cool morning. Sarah was able to keep warm in the sealed interior of her Beetle but the men in the uncovered hunting Jeep shivered as the morning mist penetrated their unprotected bodies. At five thirty-two, as the first rays of sun cleared the Golan ridge, the white Peugeot station wagon pulled from around the curb with surprising speed. All three clearly identified the car and Eitan clicked the hand held radio twice as Nadav put the Jeep in gear.
As she heard the radio come to life, Sarah put the Beetle in gear and pulled onto the road. The white Peugeot appeared from around the bend. They had picked their spot with care choosing the narrowest part of the street where it became a constricted bridge over a dry creek. Bypassing a vehicle was next to impossible.
It was there that Sarah slammed on the brakes, bracing herself for impact. The white Peugeot slammed into her rear bumper sending her reeling forward. Her head flew backward hitting the seat cushion with surprising force. She gripped the steering wheel tightly and held on practically standing on her brakes.
When it was over she closed her eyes and remained still, attentive to the surrounding sounds, heart beating rapidly. A few trying seconds of total agony went by before she heard a car door open and the sound of exasperated middle-eastern mumbling thrown in her direction. Both cars were still running.
The hunting Jeep was on him like a falcon on prey.
Eitan leaped off the vehicle before it came to a full halt behind the Peugeot. Silencer in hand he covered the distance in a fraction of a second aiming his gun at “the o
x’
s” temple. Mikki, shotgun in hand, jumped off the back of the Jeep and darted for the Peugeot's passenger side.
"The ox" was trapped. The few initial seconds of surprise and hesitation lost him his edge and made him a prisoner. He sagged back in the driver's seat as Eitan aimed the pistol at his head. Mikki shattered the glass of the passenger seat with the butt of his shotgun and aimed from the opposite side. He stuck his hand inside the car, pulled the lock and slipped in besides the hostage, opening the back door for Eitan.
Eitan leaped in, putting the barrel of the handgun to the back of Mustafa's head. From behind, he frisked his body, checking for concealed weapons. There were none. Then he instructed the terrorist to follow the Beetle.
Sarah came back to life gunning her car forward. Nadav in the hunting Jeep followed the Peugeot close behind. The mini convoy cleared the bridge less than a minute after the premeditated collision. No one witnessed a thing.
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The Beetle came to an abrupt stop at the edge of a promenade of locust trees on the bank of an agricultural fish pond. They were surrounded by a series of fish ponds from all sides except for the narrow dirt road that had routed them to the isolated location. It was not a predetermined location. Sarah had simply veered off to the first dirt road she found. The miniature peninsula with its rows of thick trees provided an excellent hideaway.
"The ox" was instructed to step out of his car. He had nowhere to run.
The Jeep was parked perpendicular to the road blocking most of it. Nadav sat in the driver's seat, M-16 firmly held, leveled at the prisoner. Eitan took a few steps back keeping his weapon aimed as Mustafa awkwardly dragged his enormous figure out of his car. Mikki sprang out of the passenger seat, circled the front of the car and stood in front of Karen's kidnapper, shotgun raised threateningly.
The terrorist smiled arrogantly, flashing a set of crooked black teeth. He towered over the younger man. "Playing with fire, lads?" He commented condescendingly in fluent Hebrew.