The Caliphate by André Gallo (books to read for 13 year olds .TXT) 📕

left and they were in a small parking area on the south side near the ancient citadel close to the beach. There, they met two more of their comrades whose cover was that of vacationers at the Club Mediterranée next door to the park.

     “Izem,” Hussein asked, “are all ten of you at the club?”

     “Yes, Alhamdu’llah. We are ready. We had no trouble when we arrived at the airport. And the Club Mediterranée bus was there to meet us. Taqiyyah is good.”

     He smiled suggesting that wine and women were sacrifices he was willing to make for Islam. Hussein was not amused. He motioned toward the Club Med to the north.

     “Your men should all be here. We brought another van to bring them with us. Tariq wants us all together tonight so we don’t waste time assembling in the morning. Go get them while we put the weapons in the van.”

     Mahmoud, the Hamas military chief, and several of his foot soldiers had been waiting for them in the parking lot.

     “The weapons cache is nearby,” Mahmoud told Hussein. “We have to walk toward the jetty, on the beach.”

***

When Steve didn’t show up at 5:00, Marshall waited a half-hour then started walking east toward the old city. He was soon in front of the Histadrut House, where he found the rental car, parked and empty. Unfortunately, Steve had the key.

     He walked the old city for an hour before returning to the car. It was still there and still locked. He had seen no sign of Steve. He had tried to call him and left several messages, but Steve had not returned them. Knowing Steve was eager to get up to Tel Aviv to check on Kella, Marshall was surprised at his son’s disappearance. Could he have been arrested? Hurt in an accident? He tried to find out about hospitals but not enough people spoke English, and getting telephone information was impossible. He found a hotel and rented a room. It was clear they were there for the night.

     After dinner, Marshall went out walking again. The car was still there. After about thirty minutes, he knew from the sound of the waves and the salt air that he was close to the sea. It was now dark but he kept walking and looking. He made a left on Hatayasim and saw signs for the Club Mediterranée on the right. He continued past the CLOSED sign at the Jaffa Gate entrance to the national park. He turned right into the main parking lot and went toward the beach.

     Not knowing exactly what instinct was leading him, he turned left at the old rampart wall. As he walked he heard men talking in muted voices somewhere in front of him. The language sounded Arabic. He continued to walk toward the sound but he moved more carefully.

     The voices came from a small parking lot. There were several vehicles but none had its lights on. The sound of Arabic told him these were not tourists camping in the park, and he was puzzled that they were there at night. He stopped and then retraced his steps to take the stone stairs down to the beach. Now he could see the outlines of several men going down the steps toward what he remembered to be the southern limit of the park, where the ruins of the Hospitaller Tower were located. After the last man in the group had reached the beach and turned left, Marshall advanced, wary of being caught between the men and the steps from the parking lot, in case there were more people coming.

     It sounded to Marshall as if the group had stopped and that the men were digging. He started to get closer but he could see no possible hiding places in case they turned around and came back. He stopped and listened. The men were still working. Then he heard them coming back toward him and he backed up. As he passed the steps, another group of men came down and they called out to him in Arabic in low voice. He hurried away past the steps along the beach. The man who had called out to him from the steps stopped once he reached the beach and looked in Marshall’s direction, hesitated, then walked away from Marshall toward the digging.

     Now Marshall was trying to put some distance between him and the voices. But before he reached the steps to the main parking lot, he heard running steps behind him. He ran up the steps and heard the steps getting closer. He decided that the legs chasing him were younger and faster than his, and he jumped off the stairway, listened, and went back down toward the beach along the rampart.

     Supporting beams were jutting out of the old wall and he lowered himself onto one, then another, and then dropped to the beach. He hoped his pursuers would continue into the parking lot and assume he had driven out. However, he realized that another person had stopped and was looking down in his direction. He froze at the base of the wall. He stayed there a minute without hearing any sounds above to indicate his pursuer’s intention or direction. He moved to the right, away from the suspicious group and heard one man calling the other above him. They were coming down to look for him.

     He first ran farther to the right but knew they would catch him in a footrace, so he headed for the water’s edge and entered the shockingly cold Mediterranean. He submerged himself completely and pulled himself along the bottom toward deeper water.

     He was about thirty yards out when he heard the popping sound of a small-caliber weapon outfitted with a silencer. He submerged completely and swam for his life toward deeper water. He hadn’t heard the bullet’s splash and