The Samson Effect: A Novel, page 14
Arnold’s son thrust Thomas against the rail as he tried to squeeze by and get to his father. Thomas watched Tobin pull the dagger from the old man and look up at them. He snapped from his shock and grabbed the man’s forearm as he rushed past him.
“Come on!”
Thomas felt like he was pulling dead weight. He was about to release his grip on the man when he felt the resistance ease. He hurdled the top step and flew through the door. The moment the young pastor cleared the door, Thomas slammed it shut and leaned his weight against it.
“Find something to secure the door.”
The young pastor didn’t make a move. His eyes fixed upon the door. Thomas feared the pastor had heard nothing as he struggled to take in what he had just witnessed. Thomas couldn’t reach out and shake the man without the assassins bursting through the door.
He could feel the door rattle behind him. The doorknob turned and the door drew open, pushing his feet across the tile floor. Thomas leaned back and dug the heels of his hiking boots into the floor. The door stopped opening, but the men on the other side matched Thomas’s resistance.
Thomas felt fire burn through his thighs and calves. He had no more strength to give, and what he was giving began to slip away. It was nearly imperceptible, but he felt the door slightly nudge open more. His clenched teeth began to throb.
He held the door until his strength was spent. He bowed his head and let up. As soon as he did, the door swung freely. Thomas staggered backward until the closed door stopped him. He opened his eyes to see Arnold’s son digging his shoulders into the door.
“The hammer and spike!”
Thomas followed the man’s gaze to a simple wooden mallet and a thick iron nail set in a crucifixion display. His mind immediately connected with the pastor’s as he reached for the items and turned to the door. Almost miraculously, he felt his strength return. He placed the nail point on the tiled floor and brought the hammer down full force. The first swing cracked the tile and the second embedded the spike an inch into the floor. After three more swings, the spike’s head extended just high enough to prevent the door from opening further.
The pastor stepped away, and they both stared at the door. It rattled open an inch, but the spike held firm. Thomas grabbed the pastor’s arm and pulled him away. “The door won’t hold long. We need to call the police.”
“My office is this way.”
Thomas followed, casting glances behind at the violently rattling door. When they reached the other end of the sanctuary, the pastor ran into his office and picked up the phone. Thomas stopped at the office door and turned toward the back of the sanctuary. To his horror, he watched the top and middle hinges break from the door jamb. The door folded forward, and the two men climbed out of the stairwell. He turned to the pastor. “We’ve got to go now!”
The pastor placed a hand on the mouthpiece. “I’m being connected now.” “They’re out!”
The pastor dropped the phone and ran to Thomas. The two assassins stared at them and then charged.
“This way.”
Before he could turn to follow, Thomas felt as though Samson himself had slugged his left shoulder. The force knocked him against the wall. One of the assassins was charging toward him with the dagger drawn. The other had stopped and was pointing a gun at him.
“Come on!”
Thomas turned to see the pastor standing at a side exit with the door wide open. He began running as another shot rang out. When he reached the door, he jumped the three steps to the parking lot and the pastor slammed the door closed. They turned toward the busy street out front and ran.
The door behind them burst open, and the two assassins ran full speed at them. Thomas and the pastor ran into the crowd and quickly caught the attention of three armed patrolmen. The soldiers pointed their guns at them and barked out a command Thomas didn’t understand. By instinct, however, he held his hands behind his head and dropped to his knees.
The pastor, also on his knees, was speaking furiously to the soldiers, who glanced past Thomas. One soldier nodded, and the other two took off toward the assassins. Out of nowhere, countless soldiers poured into the parking lot. A soldier approached Thomas and demanded, in English, for him to produce his papers. Thomas pulled out the papers Ambassador Ben Hur had given him the night before. The soldier took the papers and ran a check on them. He returned and ordered the soldiers to stand down.
He escorted Thomas to an ambulance, where a medic removed the bullet from his shoulder and dressed his wound. Another police car skidded to a stop in front of the church. A man in a suit stepped out and, without introduction, demanded to know what was going on.
“My father was killed just now in the church.” The pastor nodded at the church.
Other cars arrived, and the police were already in the process of securing the area. The man in the suit looked down at the papers handed to him and then looked at Thomas. “Mr. Derrick White, I see you’re visiting from Canada. If you’ll please come with me, I have some questions for you.” The man turned to the pastor. “You, go with this man.”
Thomas wracked his brain for some way to avoid the interrogation, but everything he thought of would only cast suspicion upon him. With resignation, he nodded, knowing he could always invoke the ambassador’s name if he found himself in serious trouble.
The man gestured to the backseat door of his car, and Thomas began walking toward it. An officer approached, handed the man a sheet of paper, and whispered something into his ear. They both looked at Thomas, and then down to the paper.
The man in the suit barked out something. Before Thomas could react, two men pinned him to the ground, closed cuffs around his wrists, and then yanked him to his feet.
Thomas shook his head. “What’s going on? Why are you doing this?”
The man in the suit stepped up to Thomas with a smirk on his face. “It seems you’re a very popular man in the United States, Dr. Hamilton.”
Chapter 16
THOMAS GREW NUMB from sitting on the iron bench he was shackled to. For an hour he watched policemen pass by, none even glancing his way. His fervent requests to speak with someone, anyone, were ignored.
A door opened down the hall, and the detective, the man in the suit who had brought him in, stepped out of an office, followed by Arnold’s son. The young pastor’s eyes met his, and his stomach tightened as he felt the pain hidden behind those young eyes.
Two small children, a boy and a girl, rushed past Thomas and threw their arms around the pastor, who knelt to receive them into his arms. The children’s wails echoed through the hall. A woman rushed past and joined the grieving trio.
“Dr. Hamilton.”
Thomas roused from his thoughts and looked over his shoulder. “Pastor Willingham has convinced me you’re not the one who killed his father.”
Thomas sighed. “No, I—”
“Silence! You may not have done it, but we both believe you are involved. I’ve agreed to let him sit in while I ask you a couple of questions. If I don’t like what I hear, well, let’s just say you’ll be able to witness Israeli justice. If your words satisfy me, I’ll arrange to turn you over to the American consulate.”
“Please, if you’ll call Ambassador Ben Hur—”
“Dr. Hamilton, I will not ask you again to remain silent.” The detective nodded to a man who knelt and unlocked the shackles from the bench. “Bring him to me.”
The policeman escorted Thomas down the hall to the interrogation room. He stopped before entering and looked at each member of the Willingham family, who stared back silently, except for a sniffle from the girl. When Thomas’s eyes met the pastor’s, he saw the moisture dammed behind the lids, ready to burst forth. His escort pushed him forward and led him to a chair in the room. A few clicks later, his shackles were firmly secured to an iron ring protruding from the wall. The detective and pastor followed and sat at the table across from him. The policeman left and shut the door behind him.
“Now’s your chance to speak, Dr. Hamilton. Help me understand who you are, and what you’re doing in my country illegally, while evading U.S. authorities for murder.” He arched his eyebrows and turned to the pastor. “That’s about it for me. Anything you want to add?”
The pastor’s gentle spirit tugged at Thomas’s heart. “I just want to know why my father died.”
Thomas could not look at the pastor. Instead, he looked at the detective. “Please, just contact the ambassador. One call to him will clear everything up.”
“What kind of fool do you take me for, Dr. Hamilton? Do you really expect me to go to my supervisors and say, ‘a wanted murderer from the U.S., with a false passport and traveling under an assumed name, is asking me to contact the ambassador to the U.S. to clear up everything for him?’” The detective leaned back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest. The smirk returned to his face. “Let’s stop this charade. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Thomas snapped. He lunged forward, but the shackles held him firmly in place. Every muscle fought against the chains, fueled by the detective’s calm smile. “You’re making a mistake!” Thomas snapped. He lunged forward, but the shackles held him firmly in place. Every muscle fought against the chains, fueled by the detective’s calm smile. “You’re making a mistake!”
The detective eased from his chair and shook his head. “It’s not me who’s making the mistake.” Thomas collapsed into his chair. “We’ll talk again when you’re more in the mood to cooperate.”
The detective and pastor filed out of the room, leaving Thomas shackled and alone. Thomas tugged on the chain and quickly realized there was no way in the world he’d be able to break free. He slumped in the chair and did the only thing he could do: wait.
It seemed an hour had passed before the door opened again. The detective stood in the doorway and shook his head. “You have a visitor.”
The words brought Thomas to full attention. “Who?”
Ambassador Ben Hur slipped into the room and thanked the detective, who nodded and left. He then turned to Thomas and said, “Before you say anything, remember our relationship affects Israel’s national security. This room is being monitored, so be judicious with what you say. Understand?”
Thomas nodded.
“Good.” The ambassador took off his gloves and sat at the table. “Dr. Hamilton, I’m sorry to get you involved in this. If it’s any consolation, you’ll be leaving with me.”
“You don’t know how glad I am to hear that.” He tugged at the shackles. “Can you get me out of these?”
“I’m working on that as we speak. It should only be a few more minutes.” The ambassador looked at the mirror and then to Thomas. “Have you told them about the nature of our relationship, or about the reason you’re in Israel?”
“No, but I was about to spill everything. They threatened to either deport me or convict me.”
“I’m glad you hung on.” The ambassador picked up one of his gloves and slapped it a couple of times in his palm. “So, did you get a chance to read the file I had delivered to you?”
“File? Oh, the one on Delia. Not yet.”
“Why not? You’ve no idea how dangerous she is. She’s a Jezebel who’s somehow managed to entice an otherwise brilliant man.”
“Ambassador, isn’t it conceivable she’s been looking for an opportunity to escape her brother? I really think she loves your nephew.”
The ambassador leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “She’s good. She has even managed to beguile you. I’ll tell you this, Dr. Hamilton, it’ll be over my dead body before she has a chance to betray Michael. Just promise me you’ll be vigilant and keep an open mind.”
Thomas nodded, realizing it would be futile to ask the ambassador to do the same. He turned toward the door as a man dressed in full military uniform stepped into the room.
The ambassador stood to shake his hand. “Colonel Yarconi, thank you for coming.”
Thomas strained his arm against the shackles as he attempted to extend his hand in greeting. Colonel Yarconi beckoned with his hand before the mirror and, in a few seconds, the detective appeared. “Please remove his restraints.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Detective, you’ll find all papers signed and in order for me to take this man into my custody. Now, please remove his restraints.”
The detective peered at Thomas through squinted eyes, but followed the colonel’s orders. Thomas rose to his feet and rubbed his wrists, relieved for his newfound freedom.
“May I ask, Colonel, why this man is so important to our military?”
The colonel’s face remained void of emotion. “No you may not, Detective.”
After a few moments of thoughtful silence, the detective stepped up to Thomas until Thomas could smell the lunch on his breath. His eyes coldly bore into Thomas’s eyes. “If you so much as spit on my streets, I’ll pick you up and hand you over to the American consulate before you can blink.” He turned his icy contempt to the colonel. “I’m sure you’ll want to know I plan on turning in a complete report to the Americans about their fugitive.”
The ambassador rose to his feet and in an even tone admonished, “Do not forget who you’re talking to, Detective.”
“I assure you, he won’t forget.” All eyes turned to the white-haired man who entered the room. “You’ll have no problems from my unit, Ambassador. We’re happy to assist the military in whatever way we can, aren’t we, Detective Hazan?”
Hazan’s face reddened. “Yes, Lieutenant.”
“Good. And that report you are going to file, have it on my desk tonight. I’ll make the decision if it should be forwarded to anyone.” Detective Hazan nodded curtly and stormed out of the room.
“Well, gentlemen, if you’ll kindly vacate my station, I’m sure things will settle down soon.”
The ambassador smiled and extended his hand. “Thanks, Jonas.”
“No problem, my friend.” The lieutenant turned to leave, but stopped and turned back to Thomas. Keeping his eyes on Thomas, he directed his comment to the ambassador. “Try to keep this man away from dead people. If another murder victim turns up around him, I doubt even our friendship can prevent a more thorough inquiry.”
“Of course.”
The lieutenant’s eyes warned Thomas not to press his luck. He left, and the ambassador motioned for the colonel and Thomas to follow. A few moments later, they were outside and heading down the steps toward the limo parked out front.
“Dr. Hamilton, there’s someone who’s anxious to speak with you.”
The chauffeur opened the door for the men and Thomas entered, but froze when he saw Hanna seated facing him. Her smile paralyzed him with joy, and the colonel had to tap his shoulder to urge him into the car. He slid to the other side of the limo, followed by the other two men.
“Hello, Thomas.”
Thomas’s eyes traveled over Hanna; his words lodged in his throat. He wanted to reach out to touch her and pull her into his arms. Her smile melted his heart. Words finally escaped his lips. “You look wonderful.”
She blushed and turned her smiling face away. Thomas snapped from his trance and looked at the ambassador and the colonel. They returned his look with raised eyebrows, both fidgeting in mild discomfort.
Thomas turned back to Hanna and smiled. “I mean, you look like you’ve made it through your ordeal unscathed.”
“Well, maybe physically unscathed. Actually, I was treated better than I expected. I hear Michael wasn’t as lucky.” She tenderly reached a finger to the scars on Thomas’s face left from his tumble down the cave. “These look new.”
“Don’t ask,” Thomas said. “The war story on these is rather embarrassing.”
The limo began pulling away from the curb when Thomas tensed and yelled for the driver to stop. The driver’s eyes peered back at him from the rearview mirror, and then shifted toward the ambassador. Thomas turned, wide-eyed, to the ambassador. “For heaven’s sake, stop now!”
The ambassador nodded. “Driver, stop.” He turned to Thomas. “What is it?”
“The notebook. I didn’t get the notebook back.”
The ambassador slid to the edge of his seat. “What notebook, Thomas?”
Thomas described the notebook Arnold had given him. Before he finished, the ambassador was on the phone to his lieutenant friend. A few seconds later, he set the phone down. “Since it belonged to Arnold, they released it to his son.”
Thomas felt the knot tighten in his stomach. “If the assassins return to find that family with it, they’ll massacre them all to protect the secret.”
The ambassador instructed the driver to attach the diplomatic flags to the limo and race toward the parsonage next to the church. As they pulled into the parking lot, Thomas’s dread deepened when he saw smoke billowing from the parsonage. He frantically scanned the property for help, but he found only a vacated crime scene. The ambassador was on the phone, reporting the fire, when Thomas opened the door and dashed toward the burning house.
“Thomas,” Hanna cried. “No!”
Thomas quickened his pace. When he arrived at the front door, he pounded on it and immediately reached for the doorknob. It was locked, yet cool to the touch.
“Thomas!”
Thomas turned to the limo, seeing the ambassador jogging toward him, followed by the colonel and Hanna. He leaned down and took off one of his hiking boots. Then, standing and facing the window next to the door, he reared back and threw the boot through the window.
Thomas heard sirens in the background growing louder. He paid little attention to the jagged glass teeth around the window and found a place to put his hands so he could hoist himself through the window. As he was about to jump, a hand on his shoulders restrained him.
The colonel pushed him aside and used the heel of his dress shoes to chip away the jagged glass. He then took off his jacket and flung it over the windowsill. Thomas nodded his appreciation, and then pulled himself into the burning house.
