Chapter 2
14 January 1991
Micah turned the gas mask over in his hands and could smell its rubbery scent without trying. He looked up at the Resident Assistant and cringed. "You expect us to wear these things?"
The RA shrugged as he passed out another mask to the next one in the line that formed in the dorm's second story lobby. "If you want to take that gamble, be my guest." He handed out the last mask and stood in front of the 40 students with hands on hips. "Iraq was crazy enough to use chemical agents on their own people, so don't think they would hesitate to use the same methods on us." The RA nodded and raised his hands to send them off.
Micah rolled his eyes and turned to a stern-faced Ehud. "What?"
"You should be taking this more seriously, Micah." He shook his head and they both started for their room. "This isn't some Palestinian terror threat; Iraq is an entire country wanting us dead."
"So why don't we just bomb the crap out of them and be done with it?" Micah blew a sigh and suddenly felt tired.
"It's politics," Ehud began. "Iraq is trying to provoke Israel into fighting back, and if we do then the Arab Coalition forces teamed up with the U.N. will cease backing the war." Ehud's face scrunched up. "Cowardly tactics."
Micah frowned as they turned into their room. "You ever get the feeling that the world is against us? Against Israel?" He plopped down on his bed and picked up the pile of newspapers he had purchased from the vendor across the street.
Ehud snorted. "The world is against us, Micah. It's the Americans that say they have our back. Though for how long . . ." He trailed off when he saw Micah leafing through one of the old newspapers. "You've been collecting those things for the past five days. What are you looking for?"
"A police report." Micah set the Hebrew Gazette down and picked up an Arabic paper. He could barely make sense of the language but knew the key symbols to spot. After a moment of silence Micah raised his eyes above the top of the newspaper and found Ehud's glare demanding to know more. "Okay," he sighed, knowing a full interrogation by Mossad, Israeli Intelligence, would probably be easier to undergo than his roommate's condemning stare. "You know when I told you that Aaron and I got jumped the other night? Well, we did run away, but it was because someone had stepped in and started fighting the thugs for us."
Ehud folded his arms across his chest. "Who?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," he said, poking the symbols with an index finger and flexing the Arabic newspaper noisily. "He had to have been Israeli Special Forces or an undercover police officer or something. Normal people don't silence two armed men that smoothly and quickly."
Ehud took a seat at his desk and whirled around to return to his coursework. "Well, you won't be able to get any more newspapers now," he said in a tone bordering on smugness.
"And why's that?" Micah entertained.
"The entire campus is going to be under strict curfew from here on out." Ehud glanced over his shoulder. "Didn't you hear the RA talk about the upcoming announcement?"
"What announcement?"
As if on cue, the monotone voice of the University's VP broke over the audio speakers lining the hallways. "Attention students, faculty, and staff of Tel Aviv University. Effective immediately, there will be no unauthorized departures beyond campus grounds. Students are to remain in their dorms and will only be allowed to their classrooms and the cafeteria at the given times. All extracurricular activities have been temporarily suspended. Thank you for your cooperation."
Micah shoulders slumped. "There goes my life."
Ehud shook his head. "You're a TAU student. You have no life."
Tossing the newspaper on his bed, Micah walked to the opened window where the morning breeze drifted into the room. He looked down at the main gate and saw a pair of University security guards stationed near the now-closed entrance. Micah held back a curse and returned to his bed. He fell right on top of the random collection of newspapers and lay back down. His head missed his pillow and this time he did swear out loud when his skull struck the metal bed frame.
To Micah, it seemed the whole world was out to ruin his life one event after another. He knew he couldn't stand being cooped up in his dorm with Ehud for long, and he wondered how his fortune might change for the better. I'll find a way to get out of here . . . somehow.
By Wednesday, Micah had figured out how he could escape. Every Thursday night a supply truck would enter the rear gate, drop off foodstuffs and various kitchen needs, and depart early that Friday morning. If he could hide out in the bushes that lined the Cafeteria building's rear and wait till the workers had finished unloading, he could hop in the truck's bed and ride to freedom. It wasn't the most exciting plan, but it would allow him to sneak out without shots being fired. Hopefully. While there were many variables- and likely flaws, Micah was determined to fulfill his longing for the outside world.
As he sat in the cafeteria, mapping out his route, Micah realized the situation wasn't really that bad. He'd been under strict curfew all the time growing up under his parents, and the University lockdown had only been instigated for two days. Is it really worth it? He knew the academic consequences would be minimal and nothing too severe, but there was an underlying uncertainty that he couldn't place. He knew there was a risk of war, but Micah wondered if that was anything truly new. Every time Palestinian protesters sparked the yearly Nakba riot there were rumors of war, but a madman in Iraq was now targeting Israel.
Micah took another sip of his warm tea and perked up. Wouldn't a Hebrew university be a greater target to the enemy than some club or bar? As his mind sobered to the thought, a shadow appeared on the wooden table and he quickly turned around.
Aaron stood there with his typical, goofy grin. He circled around to the opposite chair and pointed to Micah's hand-drawn map. "You must be more bored that I am if you're drawing the cafeteria to stay busy."
Micah quickly folded his notebook and slid it under a pair of books. "Yeah, something like that." He lifted his chin questioningly. "Don't you have an exam to study for?"
Aaron waved away the concern. "I'm going to fail that class anyway." He leaned in and looked around at the sparsely populated cafeteria. "You up for an adventure?" he whispered.
Rolling his eyes, Micah sighed. "Like what?" Whenever Aaron had ideas they usually revolved around breaking into this office or that and playing a prank on an unsuspecting professor.
Aaron licked his lips. "Okay, a group of girls from the female dorms is going to meet a couple of us outside the gymnasium tomorrow night." He raised his eyebrows. "You want to come along?"
Micah frowned and leaned back in his chair. "You're crazy, you know that?" There was a strict policy against guys and girls "hooking up" on campus, which was why everyone went out to fulfill their desires. And with this lockdown, everyone's getting antsy. He eyed Aaron more closely. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"Of course." Aaron leaned in. "Esther will be there."
Micah shook his head and snorted. Esther was an exotic beauty on campus. She had transferred from a US college last fall and was fluent in several languages. Esther and Micah even had a brief fling a while back but they both had left if open just in case and departed as quasi-friends. Maybe this whole thing could work to my advantage . . .
"So? You in?"
If his trip out the back gate didn't pan out, he could always meet Esther later. And if nothing else, their little gathering could be used as a cover or even a distraction. "Sure."
"Great," Aaron said, while slamming his hands down on the table. "I'll see you at what, midnight tomorrow?"
Micah winced. "Better make it at least an hour later than that."
Aaron stood excitedly and his chair nearly fell backward. "1:30?"
He nodded.
As Aaron left, Micah pulled out his map and began going over the cafeteria building's layout.
Ehud was snoring as usual from the top bunk when Micah kicked off his own sheets and hurried out of bed. He was already dressed in dark, non-reflective clothing, but he made sure it was still stylish. Micah stepped over to his dresser and grabbed a flashlight, his billfold, and his keys. Giving Ehud one last look, Micah slipped out of the room and into the darkened hallway.
His first thought was to head down to the first floor and go out through a side exit, but the chances of being spotted by patrolling security were greater that way. Micah looked both ways down the hall and headed for the darkest window where the outside lights were less revealing. At the hall's end was a pair of windows, one lined with plants and the other partially opened to allow the cool breeze to drift in, and Micah squeezed through the latter. Stepping onto the wooden trellis elicited some creaks and moans, but it held his weight till he reached the ground. Micah had used this very route before when sneaking out, but since it was so close to the RA's room, he only used it sparingly.
He walked along the building's outer wall, keeping an ear and an eye out for signs of discovery, and managed to stay in the shadows till he reached the large cedar tree at the corner of the lot. There was a rustling overhead as a bird flapped its wings and flew off an outstretched branch. Micah settled into a crouch and looked out at the opened area between his dorm building and the cafeteria. A handful of pathways leading from various other buildings to the cafeteria were flanked by ankle-high lights, but instead, Micah hurried across the grass in a hunched over trot. Once he reached the adjacent corner of the cafeteria he hugged the cool stone surface and listened for any alert to ring out. But the only sound he heard was the short, panted breath coming from his mouth.
He gave a longing look at the gymnasium building across the campus and wondered if Esther was expecting him. The collection of trees surrounding the far off building rustled in the breeze, inviting Micah forth. Maybe later, Esther. Though he couldn't see anyone near the gym, he knew Aaron would soon be sneaking his way to the meeting place along with the others, but it was just past one in the morning and Micah's window of opportunity was shrinking.
Staying between the wall and the double row of bushes that lined the building, Micah worked his way around the back of the cafeteria. He heard the buzzing orange light before he saw it, but coupled with the rumbling of an idling truck made for quite a disonance of sound as he poked his head around the corner. At least they won't hear me. From his viewing angle, he could see the delivery was almost complete by the empty wooden crates stacked on the back of the bed, waiting for someone to latch the door shut. I cut this a little too close.
The back door of the cafeteria swung open and two men walked out carrying a crate each. "Did you see how low their storeroom was? We're going to be making another delivery in a couple days if they keep this up," the taller man said.
"You afraid of a little overtime?" the shorter one asked.
"I'm afraid we won't get paid time and a half for it."
Their collective chuckle turned into grumbling as they tossed the last two crates in the truck. The taller man pulled down the hatch and went along the driver's side while the shorter man jumped into the passenger seat. As soon as their doors closed, Micah was in motion, sprinting across the concrete towards the back of the supply truck. Once within arm's reach, the truck stuttered and Micah leaped the remaining meter to land on the bumper. He cringed when the axles let out a moan, but he held on to the latch and grabbed a handle on the side so he wouldn't fall off. Using his thumb, he flicked the latch open and ducked inside, but the door retracted and slammed upward when the truck hit a bump.
The supply truck came to a halt and Micah worked his way to the front of the bed, hiding behind the empty crates and making himself as small as possible. He held his breath.
"You forget something?" the muffled, agitated voice of the shorter man came through the thin metal barrier.
The taller man grunted and the truck dipped when he got out and circled around to the back. "This latch is busted. It doesn't even lock anymore." Through the slits in the crates, Micah watched him shake his head and pull down the door. When darkness was upon Micah once again, the taller man grumbled some more before sealing the door as best he could, and they were soon off to the back gate.
Micah forced himself to let out his breath.
The guard at the gate let them depart without incident and the supply truck rumbled down the street. Turing on his flashlight, Micah quickly pried off a wooden slat from one of the crates. He crawled to the back of the bed and swept the slat in the gap between the bed and the latch. The door popped open but Micah snagged the bottom lip before it retracted all the way up.
Outside, the dim lights of an alley illuminated the dirty side street the supply truck was bouncing down. He figured the truck was on its way back to the delivery company's garage and hoped it would reach a stopping point soon before he would be taken too far away from TAU that a walk back would take more than an hour.
Keeping the door open just high enough to see out of, Micah waited for his chance to hop out. It finally came when the truck stopped at an intersection and Micah jumped out, still keeping a grip on the door. As soon as his feet hit the pavement he eased the door down and latched it closed. He remained out of view of the mirrors till the truck sputtered away and Micah casually walked to the curb. Nearby, a lone man sweeping the steps of his shop looked up briefly but returned to his work with a shake of his head.
Micah smiled and wiped sweat from his brow and dust from his sleeves. Now for some fun.
Micah didn't bother to hide the disgust from his face as the waitress took his order. He handed her the menu and slumped in the booth at the rearmost part of the diner. For some nationwide security reason the clubs Micah had frequented in weeks past were "temporarily closed" past midnight. The only diner open within a klick of walking distance of the University was fairly packed at this late hour and yet Micah didn't feel greedy for taking a booth all to himself. It also gave him a view of the front door to see if his "shadow" was following him.
Ever since the incident at Chadashot, Micah had picked up on the habit of watching his back in case someone was following him. His suspicions were proven correct once before, when he and Aaron had went out for a late-night snack, and he now had the same tingle in the back of his mind that he was being followed. The mix of emotions was enough to make his stomach growl. Being denied a night of pleasure coalesced with the sense of dread that a possible Palestinian hit-man could bring.
The diner door swung open and a conservatively-dressed woman with a scarf around her neck walked in and took a seat at the bar. Her long black hair was tied in a bun and she wore little makeup. Micah would have classified her as average in every physical category but he did catch a glimpse of her striking dark eyes as she swept a casual glance over the diner's patrons. He started to wonder why a Jewish woman would be out this late at night unattended when the waitress brought back his tea and obscured his view.
"So just the tea?" the waitress asked.
He looked up at the apron-clad woman and shrugged. "And a cup of soup," he said distractedly.
"What kind?"
"Whatever, it doesn't matter," Micah muttered, but her eyebrows only rose impatiently. "The Special, then."
"Tomato it is," she murmured and walked away.
Micah breathed a quiet sigh of frustration but knew having time away from TAU was worth the risk. Even if his expectations of the high-life were cut down to having soup and tea in a dingy diner.
Settling into the thick fabric of the booth's seat, he started to look around and assess the people. One table held four policemen, which made Micah feel equal parts comfortable and uncomfortable, but they looked as if they were ready for the check. There were numerous couples plainly dressed, filling the smaller booths along the wall, while older men took up half the bar. It was then that Micah realized he and the female newcomer were the only patrons that looked out of place. Micah was dressed for a night out, while the wandering woman was an oddity.
The waitress returned and slid the soup and the check onto the table. "Here you go." She looked up at the departing officers and leaned forward towards Micah. "I'd hurry back to school, if I were you," she said quietly.
Micah snorted out of reaction. "I'm not a student."
She gave him a look that only a condescending mother could give. "Just hurry it up, okay?"
As Micah frowned, he noticed one of the departing policemen give him a glance full of suspicion. Micah gulped three spoonfuls of the lukewarm soup and kept his head down. Surprisingly, the soup was very tasty and he lapped the bowl clean in between sips from his tea. As the minutes turned into chunks of an hour, more and more people left without others coming in to replace them. The cook behind the window to the kitchen snuffed at Micah when their eyes met and he got the hint.
Leaving an adequate tip, Micah Brook slid out of the booth and started for the door. It was then that he noticed the peculiar young woman wasn't at the bar anymore, but he continued his winding path through the empty chairs to meet the cool evening wind outside the glass door. Feeling defeated, he shoved his hands into his pockets, and started north, back to the University. So much for a fun night out.
He had made it almost two blocks down the street when a faint wailing began to crescendo. Micah looked over his shoulder but the sound seemed to be coming from all around him. Then it hit him: warning sirens. Harah, he swore. Suddenly, every light in the city winked out, leaving him standing in total darkness and without bearing. He looked up into the sky and stood with mouth agape. Countless tracer rounds began to rise up from military installations strategically placed all over town as they fired at unseen ballistic missiles. The distant thump of the anti-air guns sounded like a cacophony of drums.
"Hey!" a voice snapped, temporarily jolting him out of his stupor. Micah turned around and found the long-haired woman from the diner reaching for his arm. She grabbed on and pulled him after her. "There's a shelter over here. C'mon!"
Without protest, Micah followed her, though her death grip on his forearm allowed no other choice. Bomb shelters were placed throughout the city, with many buildings being labeled as such, and most were within a few seconds walk from anywhere. The light show in the sky illuminated their path, but the woman led him down an alley and past a sturdy looking building. "Hey, you just past one!"
Either she didn't hear him or chose not to respond. They flew down a set of stairs and into what looked like an underground sewer tunnel that had been converted into a vendor's marketplace. Micah pulled out his flashlight and offered it to the woman to guide them through the darkness. But again, she ignored him and broke right through an unmarked door. It nearly shattered as she bulldozed through.
"Where are we going?" Micah demanded, beginning to feel more frustrated with her than worried about his safety.
"Quiet." She hauled him left then right down a hallway, and after traveling down another flight of stairs they came to a solid metal door with a flickering light above it. She slid a key into the padlock and pulled the heavy door open.
Micah stepped inside and the woman shut the door behind him. She brushed past him and turned on a desk lamp to illuminate the room. It wasn't what he had expected. Lining the wall to his left was a drafting desk and an army cot; while on the opposite wall was a collection of old and new radio transmitters on a large wooden table. Two chairs gathered under the table, both looked ancient and worn. "How do you have power down here?"
"This place isn't connected to regular electric lines." She pulled her scarf off and placed on the desk. "We're safe down here." The woman folded her arms across her chest and turned to face Micah.
Finally getting a better look at her, Micah noticed that she possessed a natural beauty that cosmetics would only cover up. Her stance appeared to be casual, but Micah could see a hidden tension in her jaw that said she could put him out cold if she wanted to. "Who are you?"
"My name is Daniela," she offered without as much as a smile, "and you have something I need."
Micah instinctively held up his hands and took a step back. "Whoa, lady. If it's money you want, I don't have any on me," he lied.
Daniela rolled her eyes. "I don't want your money, though I know you are wealthy." She took a step forward and tapped a finger to his temple. "What I need is something that's been passed down to you. Something in here."
Confusion rippled his brow. "What are you talking about?"
"I need the memories implanted in you."
Micah shook his head in complete confusion. "What? Why my memories?"
Daniela finally let a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. "Not yours, but those of your ancestors." She smiled fully and Micah couldn't help but feel intimidated by her predatory look. "With your lineage, I'll be able to find what I'm looking for."
"And that is?"
"Something that can grant both of us freedom."
