He turned his phone toward Uzi. “Look at the photo, Uzi. A kindergarten classroom destroyed by a Grad rocket.” He swiped his finger and another image appeared. “A school bus, struck by a missile. They target our children and families.” Aksel’s face was blood red, engorged veins pushing from his temples. “Look at it. Don’t turn away!”
Uzi, gazing at his feet, said, “The problem is with the terrorists, Gideon, not the Palestinian people.”
“Of course. But Hamas was an elected government, by the people.” Aksel sat back. “Even if you’re right, do you honestly think giving them land and calling them a country will make the terrorists go away? It won’t, for one simple reason: they refuse to recognize Israel’s right to exist. They refuse to recognize it as the Jewish state. Their goal isn’t just to have their own country. It’s to have all of Israel for themselves.”
Uzi looked out the black window, at his own reflection.
“With all due respect,” DeSantos said, “that’s not their official position.”
“Of course not,” Aksel said. “Their PR people and negotiators say one thing to the world, but their leaders tell a different story to their people. Uzi, you’ve seen the secretly recorded videos in Arabic. You know this is true.”
Yes, I’ve seen them. But… Uzi turned back to Aksel. “Something should’ve been done. I don’t know what. But something. All these years… all the killings… all the terrorist attacks. If I had to pick up flesh and body parts off the street one more time—”
“Israel has made concessions all her life to get peace,” Aksel said. “We gave away the Sinai to Egypt. I was part of that negotiation team. And it was the right thing to do because Sadat was an honest broker. We had lasting peace for forty years. It takes a viable partner to make peace. Real peace. We didn’t have that in Arafat. And we certainly don’t have that in Hamas.” He faced DeSantos. “Do you know the Golda Meier quote, Mr. DeSantos?”
DeSantos shifted uncomfortably. “Which one are you referring to?”
“She said, ‘We will have peace with the Arabs when they love their children more than they hate us.’ They strapped bombs to their children and called them martyrs.” He swung his gaze back to Uzi. “They blew up their children, Uzi. Where do you think that leaves us?”
Uzi closed his eyes. I can’t deal with this now.
“Living in America has made you soft,” Aksel said. “Poisoned your thinking.”
“It’s given me distance. Sometimes we get caught in a never-ending cycle and we can’t break it.”
“Have you forgotten what the terrorists did to your family?”
Uzi ground his molars. “I’ll never forget. It’s with me every waking moment. I can’t go anywhere without seeing my daughter’s face, smelling my wife’s perfume. You think the terror ended that day six years ago? That was just the beginning, Gideon. The pain is forever. My life’s been a torture all its own. So don’t you dare lecture me on getting soft.”
“Then I’ve got some more pain for you,” Aksel said, his eyes dark and penetrating. “You’ve put your government at risk. Again.”
“Director General,” DeSantos said, holding up a hand. “Please. Let me.” DeSantos received a stiff upper lip and a slight dip of the chin in response.
DeSantos turned to Uzi, his eyes searching his partner’s face. “I’ve got some bad news, and I really wish I didn’t have to be the one to tell you. But I’d rather it be me than him.” DeSantos nodded in Aksel’s direction.
“Tell me what?”
“Man…” He looked to his right, out the limo’s window. “It’s about Leila.”
“C’mon, Santa. Just tell me. What about her?”
“Part of it is my fault. I didn’t do my job, I just saw what I saw and accepted it. And for that, I’m really sorry.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mr. DeSantos.” Aksel leaned forward. “Your girlfriend is a terrorist with al-Humat. She’s Palestinian.”
Uzi’s mouth was agape as he looked from Aksel to DeSantos. Then he began to laugh. “Who put you up to this, Santa? Did he convince you this would be funny? We’ll it’s not, man, it’s not. I finally find some happiness…. It’s goddamn disgusting is what it is. I almost get fucking blown up tonight, and you lay this shit on me? Fucking joke, that’s all it is.”
Uzi grabbed his temples with both hands. His greatest fears seemed to be materializing right before him. Was DeSantos working against me all this time? “This is retaliation for going after Knox, isn’t it?” He began to rock back and forth on the leather car seat. “Some kind of payback, that’s what it is. Are you playing me? Who are you working for?”
“Uzi, I know it’s a lot to absorb, and I really am sorry. If I’d done my homework on Leila that first day, I might’ve realized something wasn’t right. But I just didn’t see it. My buddy told me she’s with the Agency. And he was right. She is with the CIA.”
“It’s all a lie,” Uzi said, his face still down, his head clamped between his hands. “She’s Jewish, her brother was in the IDF, he was killed by Hamas.” And she’s got Havdalah candles in her apartment… “Gideon, why are you doing this to me? Haven’t I suffered enough?”
“She runs a sleeper cell for al-Humat,” DeSantos said softly.
Uzi cringed. Al-Humat. The irony was not lost on him. The group whose name means “The Protectors” murdered his wife and daughter, the people he failed to protect.
“They get funding through a complex series of innocuous trusts,” Aksel said, “that much we know. We’ve been watching al-Humat for a decade, and we know they’re affiliated with al-Qaeda. But it wasn’t until a few days ago that we discovered they had active cells in the US.”
“Nuri was tracking them, too,” Uzi said, his voice weak.
“Nuri?” Aksel looked from Uzi to DeSantos and back. “Nuri Peled?”
Uzi set both elbows on his knees and bent over, palms massaging his forehead. “He was found dead, a little over twelve hours ago. Staged to look like suicide. He was looking into a rumor that a new sleeper had set down roots here. It got him killed.”
Aksel sat back, affected by this news, but absorbing it. “He wasn’t working for us.”
“I know.”
There was a moment of silence before Aksel continued. “Your girlfriend might have been the one who killed him.”
“No,” Uzi said, his head still down, like a child who doesn’t want to hear what his parent is telling him. Cover your eyes and ears and it won’t be so. “She’s a CIA counterterrorism expert. She’s on my task force. Shepard assigned her, she’s on my task force,” he said, as if stubborn insistence made it true. “She works for the CIA, Gideon. They would’ve vetted her. They couldn’t have missed that, not something like that, not after 9/11.” He lifted his head. His face was hot and his eyes felt swollen with tears.
“There’s a lot we still don’t know,” DeSantos said. “But we’re telling you the truth, Uzi. I can’t speak for the director general, but I’ve got no agenda. I’m not trying to hurt you. But your feelings aren’t what’s at issue here. It’s Leila—”
“Batula Hakim,” Aksel said. “Her name is Batula Hakim.”
Uzi’s head snapped to Aksel. “What? I know what Batula Hakim looks like, Gideon. I memorized every angle of her evil face. Leila Harel is not Batula Hakim.” He turned to DeSantos. “Have you confirmed any of this with the Agency? I mean, how sure are you of this?”