CHAPTER 32
Ariel sighed as he walked in the door of his apartment. It was well past dawn outside. Time for all good vampires to be home with the drapes and doors closed. The last seventy-two hours had been very intense, and he was exhausted.
He unloaded his pockets onto his desk and draped his jacket on the chair before heading for the refrigerator. He came back with a bottle of water, but before he could sit down, his mobile rang. He looked at it, and saw that it was Mordechai calling. He answered in speaker mode.
“Hallo.”
“Where are you?” Even through the mobile’s tinny-sounding speaker Mordechai sounded serious.
“Just got home.”
“Good. Stay there.”
While he waited, Ariel took a pair of metal tweezers from his desk, picked up the burner mobile SIM card, and carried it to the kitchen. He rooted around in his kitchen junk drawer until he found the butane lighter he was pretty certain he had, then pulled a pottery saucer out of the cabinet.
When the knock came at the door, Ariel was holding the SIM card over the flame of the lighter. “Come on in,” he called out. “It’s not locked.”
Mordechai entered, shut the door behind him, and looked at Ariel. “What are you doing?”
“Just flambéing a SIM card.” Ariel looked up with a grin.
“The prophets tell us that fire purifies,” Mordechai said with a small smile. “Let me not interfere with your righteous work.”
Ariel snorted at that, but continued to hold the card in the tweezers over the flame for another minute or so until all the cardboard and volatile components were burned away and all that was left was the tiny soot-blackened piece of silicon that was the core of the card. “Just to make sure,” he muttered. Afterward, he released the lever of the lighter, and the flame died. “There. That’s done.” He set the silicon on the saucer and laid the tweezers and lighter on the counter beside it. “Sorry, I don’t have any scotch. Want some water?”
Mordechai nodded, so Ariel pulled a bottle out of the refrigerator and handed it to him, then waved him toward the small living area his apartment boasted. “Sit, sit.” He picked up his own bottle and plopped down at one end of his sofa, while Mordechai sat in the only chair available and set his bag on the floor.
Mordechai stared at him for a long moment. “You did well. The investigators have all three men in custody, and have absolutely no evidence that will point to you. Outside of that”—he pointed toward the saucer in the kitchen—“do you have anything here that could implicate you?”
“The only things that had major contact with them were my gloves.
“I’ll take them with me. Get your clothes laundered today, get that jacket and your boots professionally cleaned. After that, you should be clean.”
Ariel nodded.
“Are you done with him?” Mordechai’s gaze was direct, his voice was level. There was no doubt in Ariel’s mind what he meant.
Ariel sighed. “Yes, unless he comes back.”
“Oh, I doubt that he will,” Mordechai said. “In addition to the physical damage, you may have broken his mind. From the reports, when they can get Davidoff to talk at all, he just raves about being attacked by a monster—by Baba Yaga’s brother, in fact.”
Ariel snorted. “That’s his own doing. He called me Baba Yaga’s son to one of his friends. I simply corrected his perception.”
Mordechai’s razor grin flitted across his face. A moment later it sobered again. “You trod very close to the line, but I judge you didn’t go over. You got your revenge. How does it feel?”
“Revenge? I was striving for balance, for equity, for justice.”
Mordechai shook his head. “When that which is taken or destroyed cannot be restored, there is no balance or equity possible. There is merely causing equal pain to try and prevent more. And justice? Justice is the right and privilege of haShem, of the Most High. What we call justice is only a crude imitation, and is all too often misapplied, miscarried, or misbegotten.” He shrugged. “It seems that all we can do is do what is right where possible, and endure the wrong where it’s not. That is the history of the Jews in a nutshell, I’m afraid.”
They sat in silence for a while. Ariel took a swig from his bottle, and turned it around and around in his hands.
“How does it feel?” Ariel finally repeated the question. “With both the gang in California and with Davidoff here, it feels…empty. There is no sense of right being restored. There is only a grim satisfaction that they were hurt as much as they caused hurt, and they will not cause that hurt again. You say I almost crossed a line. I wanted to. I wanted to make him and his friends hurt more than Yael was hurt. That I could have enjoyed. That”—he swallowed—“that I would have enjoyed.”
“And that is why the Lex Talionis tells us that vengeance is the Lord’s, not ours. What you did was righteous. If you had enjoyed it, it would have been unrighteous.”
“I don’t feel righteous,” Ariel muttered.
“Hah,” Mordechai said. “If you felt righteous, I’d be worried about you. It’s my experience that all too often those who most feel righteous are in actuality the least righteous.”
“Heh.” Ariel thought about that. “I can see that.”
They sat in companionable silence for some time, then Mordechai chuckled.
“What?” Ariel asked.
“Your restraint with the other two was good. They have been most cooperative with the investigators, including giving very detailed descriptions of you.”
“What?” Ariel sat bolt upright in shock.
“Oh, yes. Did you know that you are at least a hundred and ninety-five centimeters tall, weigh at least a hundred and ten kilograms, and you’re some kind of super-ninja?”
Ariel slumped in relief. “Oh, really? That’s good to know. I guess I need to buy a new wardrobe, huh?” He took another swig from his bottle. “Is that all they’re saying?”
“No. Hopefully they’re being a little more accurate with what they say about Davidoff, though.”
“Ah”—Ariel snapped his fingers—“they were talking about being connected with some guy named Arkadi Levchin. I don’t know the name, but I thought you might.”
Mordechai nodded. “Oh, yes, I do. If they are connected with him in any way, that explains some things. Levchin apparently left St. Petersburg in the early nineties just ahead of what promised to be some uncomfortable conversations with both the police and the local mafia bosses. Here, he’s reputedly connected with black markets, smuggling, and occasional flirting with outside forces, but he’s kept a low profile and hasn’t done anything big enough or splashy enough to warrant serious attention from Shin Bet or Yamam.”
“What my dad would have called a two-bit hood, then?”
“If I understand the idiom, yes. But it’s still useful information, and I’ll see to it that it makes its way to the investigators—suitably anonymized, of course.” After a moment, Mordechai asked, “And how is the young woman?”
Ariel took a deep breath, then released it. “Considering what she’s been through, she seems to be doing rather well. Physically she’s pretty much recovered from the Rohypnol, and the worst of the bruising is starting to heal. The broken bones will take time, but should heal fine. Losing the sight in one eye, though…that’s going to be rough, for sure. She’ll need some therapy to adjust to the new limits to her field of vision and compensate for the changes in depth perception. But she’s tough. She’s been in the IDF. She’ll adapt. I’m more concerned about the psychological impacts.”
“That will be hard, but don’t short-change her,” Mordechai warned. “As you say, she’s tough. Let her lead her life—support her, but don’t patronize her. First, be the friend she needs. If something grows from that”—he spread his hands—“then that will be as haShem wills it.”
“From your mouth to His ear,” Ariel murmured.
“Indeed.”
Mordechai chuckled again. “She wouldn’t be the first IDF soldier with an eyepatch, you know, if she wears one. May she become as famous as Dayan, and a better officer.”
Ariel lifted his bottle in a toast to that thought, then finished his water and got up to put the empty bottle in the recycling bin. He leaned back against the kitchen counter. “She’s supposed to be transferred to a regular room this morning. They want to keep her for a couple more days to run some more tests. At least one more MRI, I think. She’ll get to go home after that.”
“Is she the one?”
“The one for me?” Ariel crossed his arms and stared at the wall above Mordechai’s head. “I…maybe. But whether she is or she isn’t, she’s important to me.”
“Then be there for her.”
* * *
Later that day, Ariel returned to The Lucky Star store. It was late evening. The sun had set and twilight was progressing. Mr. Li looked up from the book he was reading as Ariel entered.
Mr. Li nodded. “So, was your hunt successful?”
Ariel sobered. “Yeah. It was.”
Mr. Li showed a very slight smile. “So I heard.”
Ariel’s eyes widened. “How?”
The smile grew a bit. “My brother-in-law’s son is in the police. What you did has them all buzzing.”
“Wait a minute…your son works for the bank, your niece runs your businesses, and your nephew works for the police?” Ariel shook his head. “Is there some kind of Chinese tong running things here in Israel?”
The old man laughed, then shook his head. “Not hardly. Just a family doing well while doing good.”
They both shared a laugh over that.
“So, you going to bring this girl by to let me meet her?” Mr. Li asked.
Ariel nodded. “Once she’s out of the hospital, sure.”
The old man’s smile turned gentle. “I’d like that.
* * *
Ariel paused in the doorway, and watched Yael talking to Abigail. She looked good, looked almost normal—well, that is except for the fading bruises, the large Band-Aid on her left cheek, and the cast on her left arm. He sighed, and a smile curved his lips.
Abigail must have heard something, because she looked up and smiled and waved. “Ariel! Come in!”
Yael turned toward him, and the smile on her face seemed to light the entire room up for Ariel. He felt almost like he was standing in direct sunlight, he was so jazzed by it.
She held her hand out to him, and he crossed the room to take it. Neither of them said anything for a moment. They just smiled at each other, and Ariel drank from her gaze.
Abigail coughed, and Ariel came to himself. “I see, uh, I see they took your IV out,” he said lamely.
“Oh, yes, and I’m so glad they did,” Yael said. “I hate those things.”
“Nobody likes them.” Ariel nodded. “So, how do you feel today?”
“Like I was in a big fight, and lost.” Yael’s smile turned crooked.
“I’m sorry,” Ariel muttered. “I’m such an…”
“Shut up,” Yael said as she squeezed his hand. “If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be alive. You found me, when no one else was even looking. You can say anything you want to me, okay? I reserve the right to call you an idiot if I need to, but you can say anything to me. You’ve earned that.”
Her smile brightened up again, and Ariel had to smile in return.
“Well,” Abigail stood and picked up her bag, “I need some better coffee than the instant sludge they serve in the waiting room, so I’m going to go find some while you keep her company, Ariel.”
“Bring me a large cup of Turkish when you come back,” Yael called out as Abigail headed for the door. She got a hand wave in response.
Yael took her hand back and used it to hit the control to make the head of the bed rise more so that she was sitting up straighter. “Come closer and bend down so I can kiss you.” Ariel swallowed, but did as he was commanded, and she kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Ariel. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m so very glad that you did.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you any faster.” He ducked his head, feeling flushed.
She put her hand under his chin and lifted his face up. “Bullshit,” she said, reminding him that she’d spent time with the soldiers of the IDF. “I knew you were out of the country when I left you that voicemail, and I really didn’t think I was in trouble. Boy, was I wrong.”
“But what you went through…”
Yael shook her head. “Ariel, you couldn’t have stopped it. Yes, I got raped. I’m not the only woman that’s happened to, even in Israel. But I was given such a large dose of the drug that I really don’t remember it. And I refuse to let this one event shape my life. Not your fault, got it? And don’t you dare pity me.”
The glower she fixed on Ariel reminded him of his maternal grandmother. Remembering Mordechai’s comments, he mustered a smile, and said, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Besides,” she carried on, “you found me within three to four hours of when you started looking. That’s crazy fast. You’re a freaking miracle worker, Ariel. If it wasn’t for you, the police would still be looking for me.”
“Okay, okay,” Ariel said with a laugh. “Stop already. You’re going to blow my hat size up if you don’t quit that.”
Yael reached out and took his hand, and they just smiled at each other for a while.
“So, do you know yet when you’ll get to go home?”
“Unless something ugly shows up on today’s MRI, they say I can go home tomorrow,” Yael said. “I am so ready. I miss my bed, and I especially miss my pillows.” She pulled a flat specimen of pillow out from behind her and held it up before him. “This thing is pathetic.”
They traded quips and insults about the pillow for a few minutes, then he helped her put it back. “After all,” he intoned as he helped her slide it behind her head, “even a pathetic pillow is better than no pillow.”
“Barely,” she muttered as she laid back and sighed.
“I’ll try to come check on you tomorrow,” he said, “but I may be in Jerusalem. I’m supposed to go to the Western Wall with a friend soon, and it may be tomorrow.”
Yael’s eyebrows rose. “Would it be possible for me to tag along? I need to go visit. It’s been quite a while since I last went. Not tomorrow, of course,” she hastened to say, “but maybe the day after?”
A warmness formed in Ariel’s heart.
“I think so. Let me talk to him tomorrow.”
Her smile increased, if that was even possible, and Ariel felt like a tree drinking in the light of the sun.
* * *
The door to Yael’s apartment opened, revealing Yael standing there wearing slacks and a hoodie, with Abigail standing behind her, both wearing big smiles.
“You ready?” Ariel asked, then immediately chastised himself for saying something so inane.
“Of course,” Yael replied. “Let’s go.” She pushed past him, then looked back at Abigail. “Don’t wait up this time. I think I’ll be safe.”
Abigail laughed, and shut the door.
“Elevator or stairs?” Ariel asked as they started down the hall.
“Elevator,” Yael said. “I’m supposed to do as much walking as I can stand, but stairs are kind of difficult right now. And it’s not the going up part that hurts as much as the going down part, for some reason I don’t understand. You’d think it would be the other way around. Maybe we’ll cover that in one of our physiology classes.”
“Could be,” Ariel said. “That reminds me. The next session starts in a week and a half.”
“Don’t remind me,” Yael groaned. “I need another break to get over this break.”
Ariel laughed.
“So tell me again, why are we going so late in the evening?” Yael asked.
Ariel shrugged. “The rest of us tend to have evening schedules, so it was easier for us to go now than during the day.” Not the first time the vampire aversion to sunlight had caused awkward explanations. This time, thankfully, Yael seemed to accept the explanation.
He opened the door for Yael to carefully seat her stiff and bruised body in the back seat, then hurried around to get in on the other side.
“Gentlemen,” he said, leaning forward a little, “this is Yael Malka, one of my fellow students at uni. Yael, these are my mentors Mordechai Zalman, who is driving, and Rabbi Avram Mendel. They are the reason why I am in Israel today.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Yael said.
“The honor is ours,” Mendel said, tipping his hat as he turned to look at her. “Any friend of Ariel’s is a friend of ours.”
“Fasten your seat belts,” Mordechai said. “This may be an interesting ride.”
“He’s not kidding,” Ariel murmured to Yael as he fastened his own belt.
Officially it was only fifty-four kilometers from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, but what with getting out of Tel Aviv and getting into Jerusalem and finding parking, the trip took a bit over an hour. Most of the conversation during the trip was carried on between Yael and the rabbi. He questioned her about her training so far and about what her plans were, and she was delighted to find that not only was he medically knowledgeable, he also had a fine sense of humor. By the time Mordechai parked the car, they had managed to reduce Ariel to tears of laughter more than once.
Ariel exited the car and hurried around to the other side. Sure enough, Yael had stiffened up while sitting in the same position for an hour, and needed a hand to get herself extricated from the back seat and straightened up to walk. She took his arm to steady herself, and they started moving slowly, following the two older men who had gone ahead.
“I see what you mean about ‘interesting,’” she murmured to him. “Does he always drive like that?”
“Oh, no,” Ariel said matter-of-factly. “Usually he drives faster.”
She looked over at him. “You’re not kidding,” she said after a moment of examination.
“Not even,” Ariel said. “Honest truth.”
“The intercity buses don’t run at night, do they?” she muttered. “Too bad.”
Ariel laughed.
By the time they reached the plaza facing the Western Wall, Yael had loosened up enough that she was walking normally. She still held onto Ariel’s arm. He didn’t mind.
It was after 2100 hours, and was full night outside, but there was a great deal of artificial lighting in the plaza. It wasn’t quite equivalent to daylight, but Ariel had no trouble seeing.
Mordechai and Mendel had stopped outside the security checkpoint to wait on them. “Ariel,” Mendel said with a pat on his shoulder, “this is your first visit. Go, find a place, and pray. Take as long as you need.”
Yael dropped her hand. “Go on,” she whispered.
Although it was night, once they were through security, there were quite a few people in the plaza, maybe a hundred or more, men separated from women by a light partition. But there were clear spaces along the wall. Ariel pulled his bar mitzvah kippah from his pocket and put it on, then began walking toward the wall, aiming for one of the sections currently free of people. As he walked, as the stones in the wall grew in size and in proportion as he drew closer, the scale of the structure and the sheer antiquity of it impressed itself on him. This had been here for over two thousand years. It had been built by Jews, for Jews, as part of the complex devoted to worshipping the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Emotion began to well up inside him.
Arriving at the wall, Ariel hesitated, then raised both hands and placed his palms at shoulder height on a single stone. He felt the rough texture of the limestone against his skin. There was almost a sense of electric shock at touching it. He closed his eyes, and murmured, “Sh’ma, Israel, Adonai elohenu, Adonai echod.”
Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.
Ariel’s throat closed. His mind filled with keening. He knew the prayers he should be praying, the ones from the siddur, but he couldn’t call them up. His mind was filled with grief.
He leaned his head forward until his forehead rested against the stone. His heart ached. His soul ached. His throat was so closed he almost couldn’t breathe.
A single tear trickled from his left eye. As if a dam had broken, Ariel began to weep, silently, motionlessly.
He wept as he grieved for his parents, taken before their time. He wept as he grieved for poor Tiffy, taken from the only home she had ever known and now having to learn to live without her family. He wept as he grieved for Yael, for what she had been through and for the road ahead of her. He wept for as he grieved for Mordechai, for Menachem, for Eleazar. He wept as he grieved for himself, for Chaim, whose life had been so drastically changed and whose memories seemed to be fading in the light of the life he now lived. And he wept for Israel, that she needed such as him to be her defender.
Ariel had no idea how long he stood there, how long he wept, but eventually the tears ceased to flow. He took a deep breath, straightened, and brought the Gibborim medallion out from under his shirt to kiss it.
“Lord God of Hosts,” he whispered in Hebrew, using the ancient name that a warrior would have sworn by and sworn to, “I am your man. I am your warrior, unworthy as I am. Sustain me as I fight Your fights. Help me to do that which is right. Help me to endure that which must be endured. Let me stand in the gate for as long as I am needed. Omayn.” The thought that he was now capable of standing in the gate for a very long time indeed lingered in his mind.
Ariel kissed the medallion one more time, then tucked it back under his shirt. He straightened, throwing his shoulders back, and wiped his hands across his face. He touched the stone one last time, promising himself and the wall that he would be back.
He could see his three friends standing together. It was only a matter of a few steps to join them. No one said anything. Mordechai nodded, a solemn expression on his face. Rabbi Mendel patted his shoulder a couple of times. Yael moved to stand beside him and put her good arm around his waist. He put his arm around hers, careful to avoid the wraps around her ribs, smiled at everyone, and said, “Let’s go home.”