“Who. Am. I?”
Her face looked so sad. It made him angry.
“Your name is Lieutenant Calder Farris.”
He tried to read her face, to see if she was lying. She had said that name before, but it meant nothing to him. He shook his head.
She nodded, as if acknowledging that it wasn’t enough. “You work for the United States government in the Department of Defense in Washington, D.C. You investigate new weapons technology.”
He braced his hands on the steps, the words bouncing around his brain like a rubber ball. Farris. Department of Defense. Weapons.
He turned and fled down the stairs.
Jill paced for a few minutes in the hallway, her shirt torn, her face still darkened from the pressure Farris had exerted on her neck. She faced the silent group.
“I have to go after him.”
“No,” Nate said. He raked a hand through his hair. “No way. Huh-uh.”
She almost smiled. It was so unlike Nate to try to tell her what to do. “I know it’s not logical. But… I don’t know. My intuition says we can convince Farris.”
“Is this the same Farris who almost choked you to death a few minutes ago?” Nate asked sarcastically. He huffed out a breath. “Jesus, Jill, if that’s your intuition, I’d say it’s a bit rusty.”
Jill looked at the others for support. “Farris was in charge of the investigation in Seattle. He’s the only one who knows what the DoD has or doesn’t have. Obviously he’s been traumatized, but I think he can be reached.”
“Traumatized?” Nate huffed. “He’s bonkers, Jill. That man is dangerous.”
“I don’t think he meant to hurt me,” she said doubtfully.
She looked at the others, waiting for a response. Like it or not, they were all in this together.
“Nate’s right,” Aharon said with something of his old hubris. “The man is dangerous. What if something should happen to you?”
Denton shrugged. “Personally, I think you should follow your gut.”
Jill looked at Hannah.
Aharon’s wife appeared shocked that she would be asked for her opinion. She hesitated. “I think… I think he’s more lost than dangerous. He needs help.”
Nate groaned.
“I’ll need my coat,” Jill said, knowing she had no time.
Hannah ran to grab it as Nate came up to her and took her hands. “Jill.” His dark eyes were anguished.
“Trust me,” she said, touching his cheek. “I’ll be back. I love you.”
He rolled his eyes and took out his wallet. The thing had traveled to another universe and back again in the pocket of his jeans. He took out a credit card and handed it to her.
“Thanks, sweetie.”
Aharon handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “Here. Take it.”
“I’ve got zip,” Denton said regretfully, turning out his pockets.
“I’m counting on all of you,” she said. She gave Nate one brief kiss and left before she could change her mind.
22
“The intrinsic, extramundane process of Tikkun, symbolically described as the birth of God’s personality, corresponds to the process of mundane history. The historical process and its innermost soul, the religious act of the Jew, prepare the way for the final restitution of all the scattered and exiled lights and sparks… Every act of man is related to this final task which God has set for his creatures.”
By morning, Hannah’s rented car was parked across from a hotel in Auschwitz. Denton’s and Nate’s knees were crushed in the backseat and Nate felt like hell. He still had the semidazed wonderment of someone contemplating the pain of a knife in the back.
“She’ll be all right,” Denton said, patting Nate’s knee.
“Um, she took off in the middle of the night. On foot. In rural Poland. With a hundred dollars, no ID, and my credit card.”
“She can handle it. She’s a brain.”
“I used to think so,” Nate said with disgust.
Hannah and Aharon were in the front seat, talking softly together. Nate looked at them to make sure they weren’t listening before turning to Denton with a flush.
“We haven’t been apart in nine months. I’m acting totally pussy-whipped, aren’t I?”
Denton grinned. “Maybe a little.”
“It’s just that when Jill wants something she can be so… oblivious. I’m worried about her.”
“If it’s any help, I think she’s right about Farris. I don’t think he’ll hurt her.”
“Gee, I must have imagined that he almost killed her yesterday,” Nate said dryly, but he sounded like he wanted to believe it.
“There!” Hannah whispered loudly.
A man and a woman were coming out of the hotel. Nate watched them, wishing he had a closer view. The woman wore a wool hat, navy pea coat, and scarf in the cold, the rest of her clothes ordinary. She was slim and attractive. The man’s head was bare. He was speaking to the woman, looked around the street casually, turning to face them.
Denton let out a groan. He sank down in the seat, pulling Nate with him. “I know that guy! He calls himself ‘Mr. Smith.’ ”
“See!” Hannah exclaimed, triumphant. “I told you! Aharon—didn’t I say he was Mossad? I told you the Mossad was here.”
“Yes, Hannah, and I’m so happy you’ve been spending your time following such people.”
Nate was being crunched in Denton’s grip.
“You guys need to look like you’re doing something,” Denton whispered urgently to Aharon and Hannah. “Look natural.”
“It’s fine. They’re going the other way; he’s not even looking,” Aharon said dismissively.
Nate sat up cautiously, taking a look for himself. “He’s right. They went around the corner.”
Denton sat up, looking a bit chagrined. “Sorry. I’m trying not to be a wimp these days; it’s just that my body has a very real memory of being pummeled by that guy.”
“So he is Mossad?” Nate asked.
“Well, he never actually introduced himself as such, but I think so.”
“What about the woman?” Aharon asked Denton. “Did you recognize her?”
“No.”
“She’s here to make them look like a couple,” Hannah explained. “She’s a katsa.”
“Yes, thank you, Mata Hari,” Aharon said with mock enthusiasm. “So now what?”
“Someone should check into the hotel,” Hannah suggested, “pretend to be vacationing. We might be able to overhear them or even get into their room.”
Nate nodded. “That’s smart. There are four of us. We should spread out. Two can cover these guys and two can take the guys at Anatoli’s house.”
Aharon shrugged as if to say he couldn’t argue. “Fine, someone will check in here. But not you, Hannah.”
“Who then?” she asked.
“It can’t be me,” Denton said regretfully. “Smith would recognize me in a heartbeat.”
“I’ll do it,” Nate volunteered.
“Do you speak Hebrew?” Hannah asked.
“Um… not last time I checked.”
She gave her husband an “I told you so” look.
“Hannah, you’re not going in there.”
“Not alone…” she said leadingly. “It would be more convincing if a husband and wife checked in.”
Aharon grunted. “Then that settles it. Look at me!” He ran an open hand to indicate his countenance. “You think they wouldn’t be a little suspicious? You think they don’t have my picture?”
Hannah studied his face. “You know, I’m looking forward to seeing what you look like under that beard after all these years.”
“Hannah, are you crazy?” Aharon was aghast.