Yet with his stomach grumbling more loudly now, he decided it was a bad idea to even consider such a major decision on so little food and even less sleep. So he sent one more tweet, then picked the car keys off the counter, settled behind the wheel of the black Honda Accord parked in the driveway, and carefully backed onto Beach Avenue before heading toward the grocery store he’d seen about a half kilometer away on Ocean Street.
Marseille was startled by the unexpected ring of her iPhone. She had just finished saying good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Walsh. She had given them both long hugs and had gotten into her rental car to head to the airport for her flight back to Portland. The identification of the caller was blocked, but Marseille answered it anyway, and every muscle in her body seemed to tense.
“Hello?” she asked, desperate for any scrap of news about Lexi and Chris, and even more desperate for news about David, yet fearful what any of that news might be.
“This is the operations center at Langley looking for a Marseille Harper.”
“Yes, this is she.”
“Very well, please hold for Deputy Director Murray.”
Marseille held her breath. A moment later, Murray came on the line.
“Miss Harper?”
“Yes?”
“This is Tom Murray.”
“Oh yes, hi, Mr. Murray,” Marseille replied. “Thank you so much for calling. Honestly, I didn’t really expect a call back from you personally. I know you have a lot on your plate right now.”
“Well, that’s true, and normally I don’t return calls made at 3 a.m. to my office by people I barely know,” Murray said. “But you seem to be proving an exception to that rule. As I mentioned when we met the other day, your father was a dear friend, as was your mom. So that’s why I wanted to return your call myself once I had some news.”
Marseille looked at Mrs. Walsh, who clung to her husband while whispering to Marseille, “What’s he saying?” But Marseille motioned for her to wait.
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Murray,” she said. “I’m actually here with Lexi’s parents. We’ve been up all night watching the TV coverage, but they haven’t really been talking about what’s happening in Tiberias. It all seems to be about the missile attack on Dimona.”
“Yes, the situation in Dimona is dominating everything right now, and I’m sorry about that,” Murray said. “But I’m calling because I have some good news for you.”
“Good news, really?” Marseille asked, surprised but encouraged.
She turned off the engine and got out of the car to be closer to the Walshes.
“A little,” Murray said. “It’s regarding our mutual friend, the one you came in here the other day to talk about.”
“David?” she asked.
“Well, yes,” Murray said, “but I was trying to avoid using his name over an open line.”
“Oh, right, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay. But between the two of us, I wanted you to know that our people just talked with him. He’s still in harm’s way, but for the moment, at least, he’s alive and well and… Let’s just say, I think you’d be proud of him. He’s serving his country and his family with great distinction.”
“Really, he’s okay? He’s safe?” Marseille replied, her eyes filling with tears.
“Well, he is okay,” Murray corrected. “I can’t say for certain that he’s safe. But he’s doing what he was trained to do, and he’s doing it very well. I really can’t say more than that, but I thought you’d like an update, however brief.”
“Oh yes, Mr. Murray, thank you so much—thank you. I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you say that,” she replied, burying her face in her free hand and trying not to dissolve into tears of joy or risk not being able to hear the rest of the call.
“You’re very welcome, Miss Harper,” Murray said.
Then Marseille looked up and saw Mr. and Mrs. Walsh waiting eagerly for the news.
Najjar was just about to pull into the Acme supermarket on Ocean Street, only a few blocks from the shore, when he spotted a Cape May Police Department squad car. His pulse began to quicken as thoughts of being captured flooded his mind. But just as quickly he chastised himself for becoming paranoid. There was no scenario in which anyone was looking for him in New Jersey, much less in this quaint, seaside, tourist community in the off-season. He was about as far off the grid as he could get. He didn’t know anyone in Cape May. He hadn’t talked to anyone in the area. He wasn’t making mobile phone calls. He wasn’t driving a stolen car. He was being as careful as possible, and he had no reason to worry, he told himself.
Forcing himself to take several deep breaths, Najjar double-checked his rear and side mirrors, made sure his right turn signal was on, then cautiously steered the Honda into the parking lot. The last thing he wanted to do was make a wrong turn or stumble into a moving violation, however minor, that could draw the attention of the local police and require him to produce an American driver’s license, which he didn’t have, or the car’s registration or insurance, which he didn’t have either, though he hoped paperwork for both were in the glove compartment.
Najjar breathed easier when the squad car drove past him without stopping, but he still felt the urge to move quickly. He didn’t like being out of the house. He was uncomfortable being away from what he knew, exposed to the prospect, however remote, of even getting noticed by the local authorities, much less caught. So he proceeded to find a parking space not far from the grocery store’s front doors, turned off the engine, locked the doors of the sedan behind him, and headed into the store to get some basics and get back as rapidly as he could.
The Walshes could see Marseille’s obvious sense of relief, and their faces brightened as they began to relax a bit, especially Lexi’s mom, who came over and gave her a hug. Wiping her own eyes, Marseille asked Murray directly about Chris and Lexi Vandermark. But to her shock, there was a long, awkward silence on the other end of the line.
“Miss Harper, there’s really no easy way to say this,” Murray finally began.
“Oh no,” Marseille said, her hands beginning to shake. “Please, no, no…”
“I’m so sorry to have to be the one to inform you, Miss Harper.”
“No, no, no…”
“I’m afraid both of your friends were pulled from the wreckage of the hotel collapse about an hour ago. They were taken to a nearby hospital in Tiberias, but both were pronounced dead on arrival. An official from our embassy in Tel Aviv is on scene. He made a positive identification based on the passport photos we have on file for them. I’m truly sorry for your loss. Indeed, I wish there was something else I could say. Anyway, I am very sorry.”