| CIA: Donovan - Shalom Jerusalem By LMVT |
| Part II “Why so quiet, honey?” asked Frank finally after they got back in to the honeymoon suite having left his parent’s home at two in the morning. “Nothing” Marisca answered as she slipped out of her black faux mink coat letting it fall to the floor of the small foyer. “I’m going to get ready for bed.” “No, you’re not” he answered grabbing her arm, bringing her in to his for a kiss. “I don’t feel like it tonight” she said softly blushing which was so out of character for her he dropped his arms knowing something was wrong. “That’s ok. No one said we had to make love every night” he replied watching her take off for the bedroom and shutting the door. “Shit, what happened now?” he mumbled to himself as he went over to the bar for some bottled water out of the small refrigerator. Marisca got quickly out of her black cocktail dress, stocking, garters, bra and thong letting them fall like her coat on the floor. She was not as particular about hanging her clothes up immediately like Frank in his precise ways did. And now she was too upset by what his Mother had mentioned to her before they left. Her son had told her everything about why they were in Israel and about the Moustaf being responsible for killing her only grandchild and the basis that led him to believe that. Frank however did not tell his Mother about Marisca being anything more than an analyst as her past was not something that should be disclosed. But Salome was savvy, more than her husband had thought about Bill and Frank’s involvement in espionage. She always played along with Bill and his need to feel he was protecting her. She was not as afraid of violence as the two men in her life had assumed. She had been born in that region and was old enough to remember the fighting between the Palestinians and Jews when Israel was just forming. And the years as they passed were always filled more with violence than peace so she was used to it. But the fact was her only granddaughter had been killed before she even got to meet her. And it was normal for her to ask Marisca when they were briefly in Frank’s old room when they were going to have children. Marisca did not know how to answer that question but she knew it was something Frank’s Mother was going to eventually ask. It was what every Mother would ask. “God, Marisca! Don’t you dare start crying about this! You cried enough before and after you had your hysterectomy,” she said to herself looking in the mirror over the sink of the bathroom. Frank was outside the closed bathroom door when he overheard her talking to herself. He knew instantly his Mother had said something about children to her. He knew his Mother better than his Father did in many ways. Frank paced out of the master room as not to be detected and back in to the living room. He sat on one of the sofas to wait for her. Should he press Marisca to tell him what was wrong, he asked himself. Or should he let her tell him in her, own time he questioned then shook his head. That was not what their relationship was based on. It had always been total honesty in all matters after they fell in love and committed to one another. Finally half an hour later she came out wearing the pair of white silk pajamas he had bought her for the first time. She looked lovely in the pure white with her face all washed and void of the little makeup she wore and her breath smelled like the Ultra Bright toothpaste she used when she bent over and kissed him. “Change your mind about sex?” he asked smiling as he grabbed her waist when she stood between his legs. “No, I’m upset about something” she answered truthfully breaking away to sit by him, taking his water bottle for a sip. “Water taste great after all those martinis.” “I’ve never met a woman that can handle their liquor like you. Is that something you learned in Russia?” he inquired and she laughed. “I suppose so. I don’t think I set out to be an expert in drinking but when you’re over there. Well, you know everyone over there, drinks vodka like water” Marisca responded. “I can honestly say I’ve never been drunk. I’ve acted drunk in situations but I’ve never been drunk. Anyway, I know you’re going to ask me why I’m upset. I might as well tell you, you’ll get it out of me. Mr. Director Man.” “So why are you upset?” he asked as he touched the clean skin of her face. “You’re Mother asked me when we were going to have children. She mentioned we were getting older. I think she really wanted to say I was getting older,” she stated as she leaned her arm on the back of the sofa poised to look at him better. “I expected to her to ask sometime but she caught me off guard when we were in your room. Which I must say is like a shrine.” “Their typical parents and I’m their only child. I remember them saying they’d keep my room as it was when I left for college. You know just in case I’d move back,” he said shrugging his shoulders. “So what did you tell her? About children?” “I didn’t know what to say. Having a hysterectomy is personal. Only you and my doctor and his staff know I’ve had one, baby” Marisca answered feeling hot all of a sudden. “Jesus! It’s hot in here! I need some cold water,” she said jumping up and going over to the bar for a glass of water with ice. “You always get hot when you’re excited or nervous about something” he said having studied her very carefully from the day they met and she chuckled. “You notice everything don’t you? I think you’re a better spy than I am” she retorted coming back with her drink and sitting down again. “I didn’t realize. Do I always say I’m hot?” she asked and he nodded. “Whatever! I also didn’t want to burst your Mom’s bubble about grandkids. And I got upset thinking about having to have a hysterectomy. I was really upset five years ago when I had to have it. But I learned to deal with the fact I couldn’t have children. It wasn’t that I ever thought I’d have them but knowing you can’t is hard to take for any woman. I had an idea once about how to have one though.” “I wish I could say I empathize with you, honey. I don’t know how you feel as a woman but as a man I never thought I’d have kids. When I had one, even for a few years it was life changing. But I’m not that interested in having any more. Unless you want to adopt or something, what idea?” he questioned out of the blue not having thought of any alternatives. “What did you have fibroid tumors?” “Did you look it up?” she quipped sipping her drink and feeling cooler and he nodded. “That’s exactly what I had. It seemed to creep up on me. I never went to the gynecologist every year, which was stupid on my part. I only went after my periods started to get really heavy and that was still after a year. Then bam! Ms. Vanius you have fibroid tumors and you need to have a partial hysterectomy. That mean only the uterus” she stated and he nodded again. “So at thirty-five I have one. That’s that! As for my idea I need to think about it more before I tell you.” “At least you don’t have to have periods every month” he said and she looked at him and smiled. “God! You really know me! That’s exactly what I said to myself. It’s the up side to having one. Do you want to explore alternatives, Frank?” she asked. “I think we need to be a couple for a while before we make any decisions. I’d like us to do things together first” he responded. “Like go to Maui for a honeymoon. You know I never realized my Mom’s a real Jewish princess. I’m sorry she cornered you like that.” “Your Mom’s no different than anyone else’s. If we ever become parents and our child gets married I’ll be asking about grand kids too” she responded putting her hand on his right knee and squeezing it. “Anyway, so do you really think this lead of your friend’s is ok?” Frank had called Teva Sheiva right after they left his parents in the taxi they hired to get back to the Hyatt. The man had said call at two in the morning and Donovan did. Moustaf’s only surviving brother had arrived in Bethlehem the week before. He was ironically a holy man that was working out of the local mosque trying to keep some modicum of peace within that small network of Muslim’s. There were many like him that viewed the violence as counterproductive even though they all wanted Palestine to be a country of its own like Israel. “I’ll call Barry before we go look for him in the morning. He’ll be able to confirm it with his contact” Frank replied. “Let’s hit the hay,” he said gently taking her hand from his knee and bringing her up with him from the sofa. “Are you sure you’re not in the mood?” “Jesus! With you pestering me we might as well just do it!” she said laughing as she led him in to their bedroom. “I knew you’d change your mind,” he answered coyly and she clicked her tongue loudly as he began to undress quickly. “You can never keep your hands off me.” “Macho man Jew” she said under her breath and he chuckled erotically as he had before admitted he was just that. They made love only once but it was slow and very satisfying to both. Then the sun seemed to pop up just as they fell asleep and the phone rang twice. The first call was Donovan’s Father, telling him there was another suicide bombing that morning and Moustaf was being blamed for that. He also confirmed that they would meet at his shop at nine, as Frank still wanted to buy some things for his wife. The second was his team checking in with news that the secretary was planning a trip to Tel Aviv that afternoon for a hairdresser’s appointment. Cody had listened to her make the appointment on the phone and Donovan gave him orders for Jake and Alex to follow her. And to also do a background check on this hairdresser the girl felt she needed to drive an hour to see. Monica was still working at Israel Intelligence Headquarters and Cody informed Donovan that the Israeli agency asked that their surveillance be moved there. Frank had no problems with that so Cody after they ended the conversation began to pack up his equipment. Frank was getting again wrapped up in the plight in Israel, his native land. Marisca could see it in his stern face, which was growing sterner with every passing day. They rented a new car, a four-door sedan then took off from the hotel to the mall at the center of Jerusalem. It was only the morning but the streets were filled with people out for breakfast, shopping and work even though it was the Sabbath. Everyone seemed to have the same face on that her husband had, concern and anger because of more innocent lives being snuffed out. When they finally arrived at Bill Donovan’s main shop of Inral Jewelry and walked through the door his Father noticed the same look on his son face that his wife saw. “Frank, you’re not involved with this anymore, this is not your fight” he said as he brought out cups of coffee. “You find Moustaf then you hand him over to the Israeli’s. Is that understood? Then you go home. To the states.” “I don’t know, Dad. I don’t think I can walk away from all this that’s happening over here” Frank replied as he took a long sip of strong black coffee. “I did that once before but I’m in a different place in life now.” Marisca had not realized Frank had such feelings about the situation in Israel until they had gotten there. He was a man of passion even though he did not show it often except more and more to her. He was also a man of great conviction, a man who fought for what he believed in. “Well, son you know you have more power now. A Director at the CIA” Bill stated and shook his head smiling. “I knew you’d be more like your Great Grandfather. Wild Bill. You can do more behind your desk than you can here. Plus I don’t think Bush is going to support us retaliating like we are for very much longer. You have to follow his directives not Ariel Sharon’s.” “Your Dad’s right, baby” Marisca interjected now. “We’ll find Moustaf but that’s where it ends here for us.” “Yeah, your both right. So let’s look at some jewelry” he stated then got up. “Did you get that silver collection in, Dad?” “A few days ago. But maybe Marisca would prefer something less ethnic looking” Bill stated as he walked them over to the glass display in his large shop. “I like all kinds of jewelry” Marisca reported. “You can pick out anything you want for me,” she said softly to her husband. Frank picked out a silver ring and a band bracelet, necklace and earrings all in a style that looked like something a woman in King David’s court would wear. It was traditional, very intricate and very expensive for silver with no gems. Marisca thought it too fussy looking for her simpler taste but she had told him to pick whatever he liked so she accepted it graciously. If anything she could lie well which she did in telling Frank she loved each piece as he tried it on her. After they left and got situated back in the car Frank left her to return to the shop and minutes later came back and presented her with a diamond drop on a platinum chain. “What a bunch of bull when you said you loved the jewelry” he said laughing as he showed her the new necklace and the look of genuine delight when she looked at it. “You can’t pull anything over on me anymore, honey. And if you want to start wearing real fur again, that’s ok, too.” “Why the turn around?” she asked as he took the necklace from the box and began to put it around her neck to fasten. “Because you lied about a stupid thing like jewelry to make me feel better. You’ve been bending backwards a lot for me. More than I have for you” he answered securing the chain then sitting back to adjust it dead center at the front of her purple sweater. “That’ll change. Looks good,” he said looking at the diamond that almost touched the top of her breasts. “It looks great” she replied now looking at herself in the small vanity mirror on the passenger side as Frank’s cell went off and he answered it. Marisca listened to the one sided, very short conversation and it was obvious it was Barry. He had confirmed that Moustaf’s brother Abdul was in Bethlehem. They started out for the area but at Marisca’s suggestion stopped at Abu’s for some hummus take out knowing Frank would enjoy that. Then they ate it rather sloppily as he drove with Marisca hand feeding him the chickpea paste with the large French fries on a torn open brown bag. Somehow it never tasted as good he thought as he consumed his favorite food while licking his wife’s fingers as an added bonus. When they arrived at Bethlehem it was just as it appeared on the news on TV, a war zone. But it did not frighten either Frank or Marisca as they had been in the thick of things before. Frank drove up to the checkpoint where Israel soldiers were looking at ID’s and he showed them his and Marisca’s from CIA. Donovan told the man to call Israeli Intelligence Headquarters for clearance and after ten minutes they were waved through the barrier. “Can you believe this was the little town of Bethlehem? Remember the song?” she stated with some sadness looking at the rubble and all the soldiers posted. “Yeah, a far cry from when Jesus was born” he remarked with equal sadness as he drove carefully down the cobble stone streets. “Unbelievable, Jerusalem the most holy of cities for three religions and Bethlehem. I don’t think this is ever going to end. And don’t give me that crap about not getting involved” he finally said to her. “Remember your plan to steal a Stealth Bomber and find Osma? You’re just as involved with all this as I am! Damn Arabs!” “Come on Frank. You know there are lots of good Arabs. I don’t want you talking like that!” she said then smiled a bit. “I mean look at all the trouble in Eastern Europe and Africa. There’s never going to be worldwide peace like in Star Trek. Even then the Federation may have achieved peace on this planet but when they began to visit other planets there was violence up there.” “God! You’re a closet Trekie aren’t you?” he asked smiling and she nodded trying to lighten the conversation. “You’re quirky!” “Quirky? Let me tell you Star Trek and all the other shows were commentaries on current issues,” she answered and he began laughing. “Well, if you’d have watched any of them you’d agree!” “Please don’t tell me you’ve gone to any of those freaky conventions?” he inquired still laughing, the tension of there current circumstances broken. “My God! You did!” he replied seeing the look on her face. “Just once, just out of curiosity. I even met William Shatner” she responded laughing now. “I’d like to know when you found the time to do that in your busy spy life” he stated chuckling. “There’s the mosque the guy preaches out of. We’ll park here and see if he’s there first.” “Ok, but to answer you inquiry. It was at Madison Square Garden a couple years ago. And there were like thirty thousand people there,” she stated as he parked near a building that had been destroyed as it was safer having been bombed already. “Just don’t expect me to go to one. Come one let’s get going!” he stated getting out of the car with her doing the same. “You’d go if I said pretty please with sugar on top,” she exclaimed erotically as he grabbed her hand and started walking fast on the side of the building towards the mosque. “Has anyone other than a fellow spy ever taken a swing at you?” he quipped as they poised themselves with their heads low just in case then heard shots in the near distance. “Yeah, plenty of times. But don’t you try it, Francis!” she replied laughing now and he laughed too as they both knew she was very provoking. “Of course you usually just shoot first.” “True” he answered laughing as they made it through the door of the old mosque. It was Friday the Jewish Sabbath but also the holy day of prayers for the Muslim’s so there were many worshippers there. Frank and Marisca strolled around the main courtyard trying to find an office or anyone that would lead them to Moustaf’s brother. Finally as they neared the entrance of the small minaret on the eastern side of the complex there was a man standing and smiling at them. “You’re Donovan, aren’t you?” he asked still smiling. “Let’s find a quieter place.” Obviously this man was the brother and had been expecting them. Marisca and Frank looked at each other in the briefest of glances as they followed the extremely tall Palestinian in to a small office. He sat behind a desk and motioned for his guests to take seats in front of him then he rang for a servant to bring them coffee. They waited for him to start speaking. “Moustaf told me to expect you. You’re going after my brother. I hope you get him and quickly” he stated looking at Frank and thinking him of good character, a first impression he always went with. “Why do you say that? I’ve heard you’re a peaceful man” Frank responded and he smiled again. “Yes, I am. I am devoted of Islam, a religion that preaches peace and tolerance. I have tried all my life to teach other Muslim’s this in this land of violence” he stated. “My brother is a sinner. He’s a cold-blooded murderer and he says he does it because it’s Allah’s will. And he’s going to kill more innocents. He also told me he was going to kill you and your wife.” “Tell me something I don’t know” Donovan said using a line he often repeated. “Where is Moustaf?” “I only have a phone number for him. I’ll give it to you if you can get me enough food and water for a month. For the people of my mosque” the middle aged man said and Frank glanced over to Marisca then back at the man. “Done. I’ll have the food and water here by sunset,” Donovan stated as he extended his hand in friendship, which the man took. “Enough for one hundred families.” “Shukran that will be enough. Here’s the number,” he said writing it on a piece of paper and passing it across the desk. Donovan picked up the notepaper and saw a number with a prefix in Jerusalem then put it in his jacket pocket and got up. Marisca got up also just as the servant came in with coffee and set it down on a side table. The couple did not stay for refreshments but left with expedience having gotten what they came for, hopefully. Frank was a man of good character and even if the number did not pan out he would still send the food and water that evening. They got back to the rental car and in silence made it out of the city limits. “You don’t think it’s a trick?” Marisca inquired breaking the silence. “No, from what Barry said the man’s been working for years to keep the violence down with his people” Frank replied as he drove the highway towards Jerusalem. “I just think he didn’t want any of the zealots going after his brother for the bounty. They’d kill him and he knows I’ll turn him over to the authorities.” “Is that what you’re going to do, baby? I thought you wanted the man dead?” Marisca asked and he smirked a bit as he caught her eye. “I do but I have to do the right thing, like Dad said. I have to give him over to the Israeli’s. But I’m still going to catch him” he stated succinctly. “Call Monica and have her run the number” he ordered and at that she took out her cell to make the call. “Have her also make arrangement for the food and water.” Marisca phoned Monica and did just as her husband requested. At that point she got an update on the hairdresser in Tel Aviv whose name was Pinky aka Shmuel Hershkovitv and very left wing. He had been arrested for demonstrating several times in the past fives years but just for inciting riots. But he also had a reputation for being one of the best hairdressers in Tel Aviv or Israel for that matter so it would not be out of the ordinary for Susan Levine to go to him. Women, as Marisca informed her husband traveled long distances to have their hair done by the right person. What was not usual was the fact it was Friday, a workday and it was just the first week the girl had been at her new job. Cody had heard no call to her office that morning to make excuses for being absent but it could have been prearranged. And Friday being the Sabbath was the reason for shorter hours for many Jews. Then just as they made it to the Hyatt, Jake and Alex reported in that Susan was at that moment, three in the afternoon, having her long blond hair done. They were listening in as Cody was to her talking rather intimately to a man who she had supposedly met to have her hair done that day. Another thing Marisca informed Frank that women did with hairdressers. As they approached their suite Frank’s cell went off again. “Donovan” he answered in his low accented voice, which was more accented since their arrival. “It’s Monica, Sir. The number is located in the Ramat-Zotim district. The address is Hashipudia 5 Ha’armonium. I destroyed the pronunciation of that. Sorry” Monica reported. “Do you want me to spell it?” “No, your pronunciation was fine. Is it a home?” Donovan questioned as he slid the keycard through the security panel to open the door. “Yes, it’s owned by Salman Ben-Zion. He’s a Palestinian and he’s a very wealthy one. Runs an import/export business” Monica reported chuckling, as did Donovan. “You know those always end up being fronts for something illegal. It’s amazing why crooks aren’t cleverer. Anyway, he’s been out of town for a week and so has his house staff so there shouldn’t be anyone making calls from there. Cody traced the calls made all last week and there were two made, one last night and this morning to the mosque you just went to in Bethlehem. It’s Moustaf. But this is too easy, I think it’s a trick or else he never expected his brother to turn him in.” “What do you suggest, Monica?” asked Donovan as they walked in to the living room and sat down while Marisca went to the bar to make drinks. “I’d avoid going there. There’s another scenario. Moustaf might have baited his brother to lure you there. If that’s true and he’s waiting and you don’t show up he’ll get pissed off. I think we should bait him to come to the theatre you’re going to tonight,” Monica said. “All these acts of violence of late are being staged on the Sabbath. He wants his revenge and he wants it today.” “Yeah, I agree. Marisca and I are having Seder at my parents after I attend Synagogue with my Mother. Then the play starts at eight. We’ll be leaving in half an hour” Donovan spoke thinking out loud. “Call Barry and get Alex and Jake back here fast. But I have another idea I’ll call you back on. In the meantime, have everyone come to my parents in an hour.” “Yes, Sir” Monica replied. “Wait a minute. I just overheard the girl agree to go for drinks with the hairdresser after he finished. Her voice sounded stilted, I think they’re up to something.” “Have your contact at Headquarters get someone over to watch her. I want Jake and Alex back here. I have to focus on getting Moustaf. Once he’s gone all his other terrorist plots will never come to fruition. At least until another madman takes his place. God! And he’s not even a major player in all this!” stated Donovan sadly but it was true Moustaf was a terrorist but he was still working for more power men. “We can only help the Israeli’s right now in apprehending him. We can win this fight but not the war for them.” “Yes, sir. I’ll order everyone in” Monica stated then hung up. “I don’t think you should go to synagogue,” Marisca stated as soon as he put his cell away. “Your Mother’s stronger than everyone gives her credit for but it’s an unnecessary risk to her.” “What about me?” he asked laughing as she handed him a glass of Irish whiskey straight. “Yeah, you too” she said leaning over to give him a kiss then bit his full lower lip. “I always take my Mother to temple when I’m home. I’m not here that often so it’s important to her” he replied sipping his drink. “I’ll take Jake and Alex as protection and leave Barry with you at the house. What’s on your busy little mind?” he asked as she had that look on her face. “You need to draw him out, Francis” Marisca retorted and he grimaced. “My Mother calls me Francis. You’re not my Mother. It’s a turn off coming from you,” he said honestly and she nodded. “God, forbid I’d ever want to turn you off” she stated cheerfully getting up. “I’d better get dressed. Would you mind if I attended synagogue with you?” “No, I’d love for you to come. My Mother would feel the same. She’d think you were interested in converting. That would make her day” he replied taking his wife’s hand. “Wear something understated. I’ll be in to change in a minute.” Frank watched as Marisca went in to the bedroom then he got his cell phone out and at that moment a knock came at the door. He got up quickly and went over and shouted through it. “Ma?” (What?), he asked. “Its Yossi,” the man from outside the Jerusalem theatre answered and Frank opened the door. “Shalom, Donovan” he greeted him coming in to the foyer. “Shalom. Ma kore? (Hello. What’s up?) Frank questioned. “Words out a rogue agent’s following you. From Russia, couldn’t get his name though” Yossi reported. “He’s after the bounty. I guess he thinks you’ll lead him to Moustaf. Anyway, be careful.” “Has anyone seen this rogue agent?” Donovan inquired. “Ken” (Yes) answered Yossi. “The man’s average height and build with brown hair” he reported and Frank knew exactly from that description who it was. “Toda” (Thanks) replied Donovan. Yossi left after that and Donovan reached for his cell again and called Monica back for a private conversation. Then he got the piece of paper with the number in Jerusalem on it. He dialed and it rang three times, finally an answering machine picked up. When the message in Hebrew and Arabic finished he began his own message. “Moustaf. Do you think I’d fall for your trap? You’re insane enough to think that aren’t you?” Frank asked rhetorically. “I know you’re listening to me now, waiting for me you fucking bastard! You’re going to have to come and get me, you piece of Arab shit!” Frank hung up, he instantly knew Moustaf was at that house and he was right. Moustaf had heard Donovan shouting over the machine and he was more enraged having waited for over an hour. And when he heard “Arab shit” again as he replayed the message he took his gun out and shot a round in to a nearby wall. He was insane and Donovan had played his cards right. Moustaf was beyond control now listening to Frank’s voice over and over on the tape. He was drawn out, as Donovan wanted. Frank went in and put his black Calvin Klein suit on sans underwear again as he had not the time to buy any that day. Marisca found it pleasurable seeing him put his slacks on again au natural and the thought of him that way made her decide to stall him from buying any. They were both pictures in black with his fine wool suit and overcoat and her black and white knit with the faux mink coat again. It was sunset by the time the car pulled up with the valet, only four-thirty that afternoon. Service was at five so they had just enough time to reach his parents home, meet briefly with his team and get to the synagogue. “You know I’m not apposed to converting. When we have a child he should be raised Jewish” Marisca said out of the blue as Frank drove towards the district of Kiryat H-Yovel where the house was. “When we have a child? You’ve decided we are?” he retorted still looking straight ahead as traffic was bad for Friday night. “Yeah, I have. I’ve also decided how we’re going to do it. Interested? It’s the idea I had” Marisca asked coyly. “I’m listening” he answered and she at that turned in her seat to look at him better. “You’ve got semen and sperm,” she stated and he chuckled. “That’s for sure, plenty of it you keep telling me” he chuckled erotically now. “Are you going to let me finish? I’m serious about this, Frank” she retorted. “Anyway, I still have my tubes and I still produce eggs. I just don’t have a uterus to carry a baby. So we’re going to hire one of those surrogate mothers and have our own baby. That’s what we’re going to do. I’m not going to argue about it.” “Lama? Sorry, why?” he asked having momentarily been excited at what she suggested but not knowing why she wanted this. “Because I see the way you are with your Mother. And I see how she loves you and how your Father loves you. I want that for us. Couples are doing this all the time. That guy who plays Frasier and his wife did it. We’re going to do it” Marisca stated. “I think it sounds like a great plan,” he said seriously with emotion then turned to her. “We’ll look in to it when we get home. I’m sure there’re lots of reliable agencies that handle finding the women and everything else that needs to be done. I love you.” “I know, me too,” she replied as they continued the journey in silence neither, thinking of Moustaf or the fact Ivan was following them just of having a baby. Ivan was there in Israel out of his self-imposed retirement. He was going after the large bounty on Moustaf, which to him was an easy mark thanks to Donovan and Marisca. It was just dumb luck when they showed up in Jerusalem making inquiries about the Palestinian. Ivan needed money as he had already gone through the nest egg he had saved over the years for his retirement from his love of gambling and the pretty boy lover he had taken who was expensive to keep. Marisca was not surprised when her husband told her, her former partner was in Israel and she spotted him right away as they drove. She knew Ivan like the back of her hand and she knew where he would be. Ivan was on a motorcycle dressed as a local in jeans and jeans jacket, no helmet just a yamika attached to his longer hair. No one would know him save Marisca and Frank and his team nor would they know he was Russian as he was a master in languages and accents. Marsica watched him at times in the side mirror but she was not concerned with her friend, he was not going to hurt them just Moustaf. And Marisca did not really care if Ivan killed Moustaf and got the bounty as Frank did. “I’d suggest us not mentioning these baby plans to my Mother, honey,” Donovan said to his wife, as they were half a mile from his parent’s home. “She’s very conservative. And I don’t think it’s necessary for you to convert. You’re technically only Jewish through your Mother.” “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. He can still be Jewish though, can’t he?” she asked as he pulled up the driveway and saw Jake and Alex. “He? We can certainly have a baby your way but there’s no way I know to make it a boy” he replied in a chuckle kissing her on the cheek. “But yes, your right we can still raise him or her Jewish. But we can do that without you converting. Beseder?” (all right?) “Beseder!” she answered as he stopped the car in the front of the house and got out as Jake opened the door for his wife. “You got someone on the girl?” “Yes, sir” Jake replied of the Israeli agent that took over watching Susan Levine. “There’s something major going down I can feel it.” “I agree,” responded Donovan as they headed inside where his Father was talking to Barry very quietly which he picked up on. “Hi, Dad. Change of plans, Marisca’s coming to temple with Mom and me, Barry’s going to stay here with you. Is Uncle Myron coming over?” “He’s upstairs” Bill replied of his wife’s brother whom was a retired policeman helping to watch the home. “If you don’t get this Moustaf tonight he’s hiring some security for this place. I should have done it before all this came to a head. I still can’t believe that filthy pig was in my home.” “Hi, Mom” greeted Frank now as his Mother came from the kitchen looking domestic in her crisp white chef’s apron over an expensive Chanel suit from Paris in black. “What’s for dinner? Hi, Rexy” he said to the puppy who finally came from his sleeping in the other room. “Turkey and dressing. You missed Thanksgiving so I thought I’d make your favorite” Salome replied. “Francis, we should leave for temple. It’s late. Go upstairs and use your Father’s shaver. You have five o’clock shadow.” “It’s suppose to look like that all the time” he answered her cringing at the remark in front of his wife and subordinates. “Of course, dear. I forgot that’s the new style,” Salome stated patting him gently on his face. “Like George Clooney.” “Marisca’s going with us. She’s never been in a synagogue before” Frank mentioned now as his Father helped his wife out of the apron to avoid mussing her black hair then on with her mink coat. “Oh, really? That’s very nice. You’ll enjoy it, Marisca,” she said now to her daughter-in-law cheerfully thinking exactly what her son had thought that she would convert eventually. “Let’s go! Chop! Chop!” Salome said using a term she picked up from Bill. “We’ll take the Mercedes, Francis. Bill, the keys please.” Bill grabbed his keys from the table in the foyer and threw them to his son and winked. His wife was a real Jewish Princess after all the years he had spoiled her and he loved ever inch of her. Salome was a far cry from the poor farm girl he had met on the Kibbutz. She maintained a beautiful home for him, gave him a wonderful son, worked by his side and helped build his business and wealth, got him more connected in Israel society yet Salome remained the same warm and loving woman he had fallen in love with. Marisca could see the love they had for each other and she wanted that for her and Frank. And the fact they had a son they both cherished and made part of their lives was what she based her decision to have a child on. Frank was not a constant physical presence in his parent’s daily lives but he was always present in their thoughts. Beth El Synagogue was just a few miles away and it was filed to the brim with the wealthier Jews that lived in that neighborhood. Marisca was not surprised that Salome wanted to make her weekly entrance in a Mercedes and not a Ford sedan. The two women were very much alike, they had both realized that quickly when Marsica started to tell her about her fur coats on the trip over. That her son had conceded to allow her to wear them and not the faux versions. Salome whispered to her that, that was a major coup for the young wife because her son had once taken all her coats and hid them when he was twelve. Frank kept watching his woman and his Mother talking intimately in the back seat as he drove them like a chauffer. He was unnerved when the two began to giggle. His Mother was predisposed to giggling but Marisca was not, so they were talking about him, he knew it. Something he had done when he was a kid and he strained his ears to hear them until Salome cleared her throat loudly. “Francis, we’re not talking about you” Salome lied as she winked like Bill did to Marisca. “Pull up to the front and let us out, then go park the car. I’ll take Marisca to our usual seats.” Frank did as his Mother asked then got out to open the doors for them. Jake and Alex were already parked and making their way up to the front to keep post after they toured the grounds to secure the premises. Marisca could see Ivan sitting on his bike at the end of the block, fidgeting with it as if having mechanical trouble. She decided she needed to talk to him before they got to the theatre. Frank was too important for her to lose him because of an insane Arab so she made up her mind to get Ivan in closer to the situation. Of course, Frank would not know this but as she said to herself again, it did not matter to her if Moustaf was just done away with. She did not have the conscience Donovan had that made him change his mind to wanting to take the man alive to the Israeli authorities. Donovan joined his two ladies who sat in the third row off the main aisle to the left. Marisca was to his left and his Mother as always on the aisle seat so she could say hello to her friends. They usually got there early for her to do that but this time they were just on time as the service began when Frank got seated. Marisca nodded to the woman to her left and her husband who she found out quickly were former New Yorker’s. That particular neighborhood was mostly transplanted Americans and the reason Salome chose that area so her husband would feel more at home. The service was still done in Hebrew, as the synagogue was conservative and there was no music played like they did in the more progressive temples. It was a large place of worship with four sections of at least forty rows each. Big enough to accommodate seven hundred with only the entrance at the front, exits on each side and what Marisca supposed was a behind the scenes past where the rabbi preached. The service lasted one hour exactly and Marisca had followed her husband’s every movement save for praying. At the end Frank’s Mother got up to say hello to her best friend, Mimi from Fort Lauderdale and to introduce Marisca. “Marisca’s converting to Judaism” Salome said to Mimi and Frank stood silent, glancing to his wife and smiling. “Give her that, please, honey” he whispered in to Marisca’s ear then took her hand. “It’s all right, baby” she replied back in a whisper. “She has to keep up appearances. Just like I do.” Frank nodded because she was right. Both the women in his life spent a lot of time keeping up appearances. His Mother was a devote Jew and she did not just go to synagogue to socialize as many women did, it was just something she enjoyed as a sideline. Marisca was like his Mother in that respect and he knew when they had to start going to social function in D.C. that it would be his wife that would be the one schmoosing and not him. He hated all that even though he was comfortable around people, Frank was just not interested in inconsequential small talk. They left after Salome introduced her daughter-in-law to Rabbi Toevil and a few of her more prominent friends. The ride back to the house was uneventful but welcomed by Bill’s martini’s waiting. Ivan was following at a distance and knew in his gut that something was going to happen and soon. He noticed Marisca look casually in his direction as she turned before entering the home. Despite the fact it was dark, the streets lights were illuminated enough for him to see that she knew he was there. That she was telling him she was there. Moustaf was nearby in a van with two men and a young recruit that was going to make the strike on the Donovan family in their home. His informant told him security at the Jerusalem Theatre had been increased and they were expecting an attack instigated by him. In fact it was a leak that Frank had arranged to get Moustaf away from the crowded theatre to somewhere smaller, somewhere he could better control. And that somewhere was his parent’s home. A more attractive venue for the Palestinian’s revenge as the entire Donovan family would be there. “So you never did answer my question, Marisca” Salome said as the two women were busy in the kitchen with dinner preparation. “When are you and Frank going to give me a grandchild?” “We’re working on it, Mom,” replied Frank as he walked in. “We’re working on it really hard” he stated kissing his wife on the neck from behind. “You don’t have to be crude, Francis” she stated smiling though. “You’re not telling me something,” he whispered to his wife as she stood whipping potatoes. “You’re not telling something, too. So there” she whispered back turning her head slightly. And Marisca was right, as Frank had not told her about his plot to divert Moustaf to the house. At least until she inquired when they had to leave for the theatre and his tongue slipped and he said there was no hurry. Donovan was a man possessed with keeping time and now she knew he was luring the enemy there and not the theatre. “Baby, could you finish these potatoes? I’ve got to visit the powder room” Marisca asked but handed him the whip she was using, anyway. “Sure, needs more milk” he said as he continued whipping and Marisca left quickly. Marisca went past the guest bathroom and in to the library next to it and out the window she opened that led in to the garden at the back of the house. It was lit by elegant brass lamps on poles around the grounds but muted enough for her to pass Jake and Alex that were outside. Obviously Donovan had let them in on his plan but why he did not tell her she did not know. Marisca made her way down the driveway on the side and Ivan saw her and smiled as she approached. “You look beautiful, but you should have a coat on with this snow” he said to her quietly. “I’m glad Donovan found you. I heard you ended up in Jakarta?” “You’re the chatty one tonight. Yeah, Jakarta” she replied seriously. “And I heard you’re here to collect the bounty on Moustaf?” “Da, I need the money to live,” he answered chuckling. “I’ve got expensive habits like you have now. Why are we talking, Marisca?” “We’re old friends. I’m just out here to say hi” she chuckled back to him. “And to tell you we’re expecting an unwanted visitor for dinner. You should join us. I’d really love you to come and break things up.” “I’d be delighted to, my love” he answered now in his thick Russian accent. “What about your husband? Won’t he want to do it himself?” “Sure, but I’d prefer you handle him permanently” she replied coyly standing in front of him as he still sat on his motorcycle. Frank knew his wife took off to talk to Ivan but said nothing when she returned ten minutes later. So much for being honest with each other he quipped to himself. His cell went off as he rejoined his Father and Uncle in the living room leaving the ladies to set the Seder table. Cody called after overhearing Susan Levine make mention of a suicide bombing that would take place that night. It was an off the cuff remark that she had not meant to say and tried to cover up quickly. Monica advised Donovan it was more than likely going to be a hit on his family and probably by some underling of Moustaf. That Moustaf even though he was insane with revenge and hatred still had enough of an ego to think himself invaluable to the movement. That he had been initially willing to take Donovan’s daughter’s life with his own hands but now he was just too important. And that was exactly how Moustaf was going to play that evening out as he watched his recruit video tape his prayers to Allah and the reason he was taking his life along with the infidel Donovan family. “I need to talk to everyone together,” Frank said after hanging up with Cody and Monica. “Dad, please get Mom and Marisca in here,” he said as he got up and headed outside to get Alex, Jake and Barry who had joined them. “What’s wrong, Francis?” inquired his Mother as the two women came from the dining room. “I just got off the phone with my Cody and Monica. They both have assessed that Moustaf is going to hit us tonight with a suicide bomber” Frank answered and everyone was struck silent. “We need to deal with this madman but not tonight. I want him but he’ll probably send a recruit to do the job. Dad, I want you and Uncle Myron to get Marisca and Mom out of here right now. The rest of us will wait and deal with the kid he sends. We’ll get him away from the house.” Frank had never expected Moustaf to send a suicide bomber. Even though the Arab had been arranging them in the city Donovan had thought the man would deal with him differently. “I spoke to Ivan” Marisca stated now. “He’s waiting outside for Moustaf to show up. You gave yourself away with that comment about no hurry getting to the theatre, baby. Sorry I didn’t tell you.” It all took place like a flash of light going on as Moustaf was standing in the foyer calling out for strength from Allah. His young recruit got scared off and Moustaf was so bent out of shape because of the boy’s cowardice and the fact his plans for a Sabbath killing were being squelched he strapped on the bomb himself. Moustaf’s right hand man drove the van they were in fast down the driveway hitting Ivan’s bike, as the Russian fortunately stood to the side relieving, himself. The next events happened fast but Ivan’s reflexes were as keen as Donovan’s were and he ran towards the house with his gun out and cocked. Everyone in the room stood still as Moustaf approached and both Frank, his Father and Uncle made a fast assessment of the type of bomb he was carrying around his waist. It was enough to blow up the whole house. “You killed my family Donovan and now I’m taking yours with me” Moustaf finally said as Ivan came in the front door quietly behind him. No one dared look at Ivan for fear Moustaf would see the eye movements. And then Rexy came bounding in from the other room and began to bark as he ran towards Moustaf. Marisca cried out which surprised the Palestinian and the puppy jumped on his leg, which had been injured causing him to lose balance. “Shoot” Frank said coldly to Ivan who was poised waiting for an opportunity to do so. Ivan shot Moustoff in the back of the head and the man fell dead not having the chance to activate his bomb. “Dad, get Mother and my wife outside, please” Frank said and his Father did with Marisca going willingly holding Salome’s shaking hand in comfort. “Jake take Rexy out with the others, please. Alex, call Cody and Monica and report what happened. Have them get the bomb squad out here. Do it outside and have the others move to the end of the driveway,” he ordered and both did, as he wanted. “We’re lucky your entrance is carpeted” Ivan said as he and Donovan knelt by the body to examine. “This has a triggering device to go off in this type of situation. We need to clear out, Donovan.” “Yeah, let’s get out of here” Frank replied and they got up fast and out the door to join the others. “I just don’t understand why these people are willing to sacrifice themselves like this, Bill?” Salome asked sadly to her husband as he held her watching her son and a stranger come closer. “It’s something they’re possessed to do, darling. I’m just glad this attack on my family is over” Bill replied. “You ok, son?” “Yeah. I really wanted to bring him in alive, Dad” Frank stated. “I finally felt the hatred leave me and just now I just fell pity for him. What’s the answer to all this?” “There isn’t any” his Father replied. “It’s all a vicious circle of violence. Get your beautiful wife out of here now. Go to Maui and have your real honeymoon and make that grandchild you promised your Mother.” “You are looking a little pale, Francis. Some sun would do you both good” Salome said to her son with all the love in her heart and she could see the love his wife had for him, too. “Beseder”(Ok) Frank answered as Marisca came in to his arms for a hug. “We’ll call you when we get there. Ready, honey?” he asked Marisca softly looking in to her blue eyes and brushing her long bangs away from them. Marisca looked deeply in to his brown eyes and she could see he loved her. And she felt the tension had disappeared from his body as he had his arms around her. Her husband had finally resolved his daughter’s murder and Marisca knew he was now truly ready to start life over again. Start a new life with her and whatever came their way. She finally smiled at Frank and replied. “Ready, baby.” THE END (on, to Maui?) |