Authors: Niv Kaplan
Leaping up he followed the two figures through the smoke, eyes half blinded and burning. Feeling his way up the stairs he heard more shots from above and suddenly a body was rolling on top of him, toppling him over and back. Rolling with the limp body he managed to get under it and heave it the rest of the way down the stairs, freeing himself and pressing back up.
Reaching the top of the stairs he glanced around seeing two figures engaged in hand to hand combat, a knife flashing in one's hand, and a third figure standing behind them glued to the wall.
"Karen!" he shouted, his voice a hoarse shrill, but the figure remained fixed. The two entangled figures froze for a fraction of a second as Eitan aimed his gun and fired, managing a bullet each before his gun emptied. Leaping over the fallen bodies, he reached for the figure extending out his arms.
As the figure detached itself from the wall, Eitan knew he had Karen.
Taking her by the hand he pulled her after him toward the stairs, set on getting them out of the house. Racing down the stairs holding her arm, he abruptly stopped and turned as a single shot jarred his body. Embracing her he leaped down the last two steps and flung her toward the kitchen as two more shots exploded near her head.
-------
Janey Moorehouse had awoken with a start, dreaming of explosions, realizing her distress was no dream when, reaching for her gun, she heard shots erupting and found both her gun and the Israeli gone.
Frantically scrambling after her purse, fumbling for the spare gun she religiously kept there, she raced out of the car and slowly made her way across the snowy expanse, gun at the ready, alertly watching the house for incoming threats.
Barely across the main road, she heard a loud explosion then another burst of gunfire, compelling her to dart for cover among the line of trees. Kneeling in the snow, her body pressed against a stem, heart pounding vigorously from the effort, she desperately tried to search for a fix on the source inside the house but could only see swift flashes of light through the only window on the first floor not obscured by the bushes.
Taking a deep breath she leapt forward and ran along the bushes towards the garage wall. Rounding it, she leapt toward the window ramming into its adjacent wall. Panting, but keeping the gun aimed, she slithered toward the window, her back against the wall and tried a quick peek, finding most of her view obscured with only the very top of the window revealing any sort of view into the house.
Looking in both directions she slid under the window aiming for the nearest corner and peeked around it to be faced with the front entrance.
Then she heard several more shots from within and at the same time saw Sheridan's car come rushing toward the house with two other cars in pursuit, sliding across the lawn to a slippery halt.
She watched Sheridan and four other agents scramble out of their cars and use them for cover. In back of them a light appeared in the house across the alley.
Suddenly all was quiet. Sheridan and the agents, aiming their weapons at the house, were motionless behind their cars trying to determine what they were seeing.
Exposed against the white wall, Janey knew they would soon spot her, so she called out, afraid they'll mistake her for the enemy.
"Bill, over here! It's me, Janey...”
She saw Sheridan cock his head and look in her direction, pointing her position to the others.
"I see you Janey," he called out, "just stay put."
But she disregarded his plea, scooted low and ran toward them.
"I think Eitan's in there," she blurted, out of breath, as she joined Sheridan and the agents behind the cars.
"That crazy son-of-a-bitch…" Sheridan murmured concentrating on the house. "Were you able to see anything?"
"Not a goddamn thing," Janey complained. "The place is a war zone!"
Sheridan took his eyes off the house for a moment and looked at his partner. Janey looked back at him knowing exactly what he was thinking. They were the ones supposed to be in there but had screwed up. Their eyes met but not a word was spoken before they both turned their attention back to the house.
Just then, a figure appeared, walking gingerly toward the garage.
All eyes focused on the ghostly figure that seemed to be aimlessly lost. As if on cue, agents Moorehouse and Sheridan sprang from behind the cars. Reaching the garage, they disappeared from view, circling it from aback then reappeared next to the figure.
She was walking barefoot in the snow, her striped pajamas stained with blood. She looked at the agents groggily then dropped to her knees in the wet snow.
The two agents knelt beside her.
"Are you Karen?" Janey asked softly, supporting the teetering frame.
The woman nodded staring at them numbly.
Janey shot Sheridan an abrupt look and the two agents lifted her and rushed her to their cars.
EPILOGUE
Three figures appeared faintly in the haze, slowly inching up the steep incline on a hot summer day among marble gravestones in a cemetery on Mount Carmel. On the fourth anniversary of Captain Gabi Gadot's death, Mikki looked around at the assembled crowd.
Yossi Gadot was speaking over his brother's grave, combining his own words with phrases from the Bible. Yossi's wife Gila stood by him to one side with their daughter Ronit, now a slender seven, and their four-year-old son Gabriel, named after the Captain. On his other flank stood Rachel, Gabi's widow with Jonathan, now nine, and redhead Assaf, a spitting image of his late father, now twelve. Rachel Gadot had never remarried.
Yossi's parents stood a little to the side holding hands, his mother blowing into a handkerchief. Next to them stood Ruthi, Gabi's former secretary, holding a wreath of red flowers.
Sarah stood apart on an elevated patch of ground in her usual jeans and baseball cap, hands in her back pockets, eyes camouflaged with dark sunglasses. Mikki felt Naomi stirring by his side. They had been spending quite a bit of time together since Eitan was buried, six months ago, after he and eight others were found dead in the aftermath of the well-publicized Oyster Bay massacre, as the tabloids had extravagantly proclaimed the affair that shocked the Long Island community and America.
None of them would ever forget, Mikki thought, still wavering every time he was reminded of the dreadful funeral, him walking in the rain among Eitan's family, friends, and members of the kibbutz, following the wooden casket to his final resting place. He had felt responsible then and from time to time he still pondered it.
Facing Eitan's parents was worst of all but he had prevailed, sitting through the customary mourning period of seven days, spending time with the family telling of the affair and of Eitan's heroic effort to save Karen.
No one knew exactly what had gone on during those decisive moments inside the house, and Mikki could only piece together the events from bits and pieces of testimony coming from forensic reports he was allowed to see, a few of the neighbors talking to the media, and the FBI agents who first appeared on the scene.
It was during that period that he became close to Naomi who had been just as devastated but managed to keep him acceptable company. Together they would visit Eitan's fresh grave each day of the seven-day period and would sit and talk about him helping one another ease the pain. Nadav would sometimes join them, keeping in touch throughout, whenever the military allowed him time off.
Sarah, too, had been there. Partial details of the affair leaked to the Israeli media and the evening papers were willing to pay handsomely for her personal side of their story. But they were gagged by a pact Resnik and his lot had drawn up as a condition to giving Dan Arbel the assurances he had requested and Sarah had missed out on what could have been the biggest story of her career and even more disheartening, letting Gabi's assassins off the hook.
The figures were quite close now, slowing their pace down so as not to disturb the eulogy. Karen, her hair blonde again and quite grown, was pressed between Lisa and Nadav who was now a civilian.
Mikki watched her gingerly nod her head in the direction of the few people who had turned to stare, then as the trio stopped next to Sarah, her gaze landed on him and she seemed to relax a bit, flashing him a tender smile, reminiscent of the one he could still recall, the day he first saw her.
She looked recovered, tastefully dressed and properly made up, but he knew the mental wounds were quite deep and still open. She had escaped the shootout with minor injuries, and hers was the only true testimony of what had happened inside, though she had admitted most of it was a blur.
He had seen her in the Long Island hospital immediately after getting word that she had been released, but upon the discovery of Eitan's fate, he had gotten extremely busy with the arrangements, notifying the family and flying the body to Israel, so they ended up with little time together.
In the hospital she had looked frail but surprisingly animated, holding on to both Lisa and him for dear life, crying and laughing at the same time. They had sat with her until morning when the FBI agents came back to check on her and with them came the confirmation of Eitan's death, as they asked Mikki to help identify the body. Accompanying the federal agents to the morgue he had learned of the bloody battle and its horrifying consequences. Most of the bodies had not been identified by then, but when they eventually were, the name Dan Hasson, alias Dan Arbel, was not
among them.
Three months later he was invited to visit her in Los Angeles and they spent several days together. Her father had left the house and was renting somewhere, spending most of his time preparing for the Langone trial in which he was the star witness for the prosecution. Lisa was back at her old job, working for Ed Lambert.
Of all her wounds, none had cut deeper than her father's betrayal; that was beyond comprehension and though she managed to articulate the pain she found it difficult to talk about. The rest, she could talk about, though Mikki suspected she did not reveal all, particularly shying away from issues having to do with her relations with her captors. But just seeing her able to communicate and smile after three and a half years in captivity, telling him most of what had happened to her since that terrible instant at the Kiryat Shmona gas station, was all he had hoped for and more, finally allowing him to slam the door shut on that gaping abyss in his life.
In the four days they had rediscovered each other and had parted with a friendship of a different nature. Now, as he looked across at the beautiful woman he had helped give a second chance at life, watching her shake the hands offered to her as people began dispersing after the last of the eulogies had been given, and as he felt Naomi's hand clutch his own, he knew he had at last found some peace.
THE END
A
BOUT THE AUTHOR
Niv Kaplan was born on Kibbutz Ayelet Hashahar in Northern Israel in 1959. At age 11 he moved with his parents to NYC for three years. After completing high school, Niv served three years in a special-forces reconnaissance outfit and had taken an active part in forming the ID
F’
s Alpine unit which he served in reserve duty.
Niv received his BSc degree in Business Development (Marketing) from the Cal State University Northridge in 1992, spending close to ten years in New York and Los Angeles. He started writing
Disappearance
right after receiving his university degree, completing it in 1997. The book was written in English, translated and published in Hebrew in Israel in June, 2012. It has been well accepted in Isreal, received praise for its suspenseful plot, precise structure, and identifiable characters, and is considered a surprise success for a first time author in Israel.
Niv's second book "Tracks" has been completed in English this year, translated to Hebrew and published in Amazon/Kindle in November. It will be in bookstores in Israel in February 2014.
Niv has been working in the Aerospace industry for the last 19 years, marketing electro-optical sensors to fighter aircraft.