Awakened by the alarm next to his bed, Howard Wells opened his eyes to see the clock flashing 7:00 in large red numbers. Turning off the alarm, he recalled his journey to Jerusalem and thought, 'Thank God! Twenty hours in a plane with only four hours of sleep, and I feel pretty damn rested.' He dragged his six-foot-two-inch 200-pound frame out of bed to shower and dress. Hobbling towards the shower, 43 year-old Howard Wells was reminded every morning of the damage college football had done to his knees.

As President Tom Bartlett's Senior Middle East Peace Negotiator, Howard was used to little sleep. As usual, he got the call an hour before his scheduled flight to Tel Aviv. A U.S. negotiating strategy memo and Middle Eastern policy briefing lay on the table in his hotel room. After dressing, he put the memo and policy document in his briefcase. Holding the briefcase in one hand, he left the room, trying simultaneously to button the collars on his shirt with his free hand while closing the door with his elbow.

Downstairs in the lobby of the Hotel Joshua near the center of Jerusalem, Howard sat sipping coffee and scanning the headlines of the London Times. Looking up, he recognized the older well-dressed gentleman in a white suit, who had just entered the lobby. Howard stood, extending his hand towards the Israeli Foreign Policy Minister. "Mr. Perlman, I presume."
"Why, yes. You must be Howard Wells. Thank you, Mr. Wells, for aiding us in our darkest hour." Yosi Perlman ignored Howard's hand and extended both arms, embracing him as one would a close family member. "We will be meeting at the offices of my compatriot Benjamin Stein. You will like Benjamin. He was educated at your University of Pennsylvania. Come quickly, we must go."

Stepping through the hotel's revolving door, Howard felt the sudden shock of the desert heat hit him in the face-in stark contrast to the air-conditioned lobby. As his body adjusted, he was struck by the bustle of activity outside. People pushed past him on the sidewalk as a man in a dark silk shirt with sunglasses and a microphone in his ear held open the door of a black Mercedes sedan parked in front of the hotel. A similarly attired man approached from the side, herding them towards the car. Feeling somewhat like a character from a spy thriller, Howard obligingly stepped into the sedan.
As soon as they were seated, the car accelerated into the crowded street, barely missing an old man crossing the street on his bike. Speeding down the narrow street, Howard noticed a small beat up Toyota in an alleyway that started as the Mercedes passed.

Exhilarated by the clandestine operation, Howard eagerly absorbed the bustling of street vendors wooing patrons as they passed. He saw gun-toting soldiers on nearly every corner, prompting a look of concern. "Tell me, Yosi, why are the streets so crowded? After the bombings, I expected to see fewer people on the streets."
"It is a testament to the strength of our people. We refuse to cower in fear from the cowardly acts of murder arranged by the Palestinian authorities. These murderers will not keep us from living." The defiant tone in Yosi's voice softened as he added, "It is not easy. Every Israeli carries a responsibility to go on with life. That is how we defeat the evil purpose that drives these murderers."

With a pained expression, he added, "My family is out there too, Howard." Yosi closed his eyes and touched his heart, as if in silent prayer. Opening his eyes, he continued, "My wife was a block away when a bus was bombed last week. Today, she is getting her hair done nearby. I would have it no other way." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dog-eared picture of a middle-aged woman with raven hair and piercing blue eyes flanked by a college-aged boy and a young girl in her early teens. "As you can see, my family is with me every moment. I pray for their protection every day, my friend."

The car came to a stop in front of a small office building near the busy central district of the city. A soldier with a submachine gun slung over his shoulder appeared from the shadows of the building and stepped towards the car. He opened the door as two other soldiers appeared and took up positions with their backs to the car, scanning the crowded streets for suspicious activity-their guns in ready position. Howard stepped from the car, suddenly aware of how exposed he felt. Yosi got out on the other side of the car and called to Howard, urging him to walk towards the building. Looking over Yosi's shoulder, Howard noticed two men in a small Toyota across the street, engines idling. Although the men were staring straight ahead, Howard got the unmistakable feeling they were keenly aware of his arrival.

As Howard turned to go through the doors, he heard three sounds nearly simultaneously. Yosi screamed, "Look out!" He heard the screech of tires on pavement as a car accelerated, and then, the guard nearest him opened fire on the speeding car. Instinctively, Howard dove to the ground. Looking up, he noticed a small object on the pavement in front of him. Someone yelled "Grenade!" Howard stared uncomprehendingly at the small metal object no more than two feet in front of him. He felt his feet lifted by one of the guards, who started to drag his body over the pavement away from the object, even as he continued to stare at the curiously oblong object. He was no more than five feet from the grenade, when it went off, instantly killing Howard and the guard trying to drag him away.

The alarm went off and Howard reached over to turn it off. Glancing at the clock, he noticed the time of 7:00 flashing at him. "That was weird, what a dream," he mumbled, "I guess nightmares go with the territory around here." He looked at the clock again, thinking, 'I've got fifteen minutes.' He rolled over and sat up, rubbing his eyes, before getting up to shower and dress.
Later in the hotel lobby, he picked up a copy of the London Times, suddenly struck by an old familiar déjà vu feeling as he scanned the headlines. Looking up, he saw a well-dressed man in a white suit enter the lobby from the street. Scanning the lobby, the well-dressed man smiled when he saw Howard sitting in the chair. Howard stood, extending his hand. "Yosi Perlman, I presume."

"Why, yes. You must be Howard Wells. Thank you, Mr. Wells, for aiding us in our darkest hour." Ignoring Howard's extended hand, Yosi embraced him instead, sending shivers up and down Howard's spine.

With a puzzled expression, Howard said distantly, "I hope I can help."

"I am confident you will. We are due to be at my Comrade Benjamin Stein's offices in 20 minutes. We must hurry." Turning towards the door, he pulled Howard's arm. "You will like Benjamin. He was educated at your University of Pennsylvania."

Passing through the doors, Howard felt the intense desert heat envelope him. Then with a startled look on his face, he saw the guard standing next to the open Mercedes, just like his dream. Getting into the car, he sat back as it accelerated into the crowded street, barely missing an old man on a bike.

Howard glanced furtively at the streets out his window, noticing a small Toyota in an alleyway startup as he sped by. 'That's funny,' he thought. Turning for a better look, he saw the car turn into the street and follow them.

"Yosi, stop the car!"

"Why, my friend, we are going to be late."

Nervously, Howard responded, "I...I left my passport in the hotel room."

With an assuring tone, Yosi responded, "Do not worry, my friend, I will vouch for you."

Turning, Howard looked out the back window to see the small Toyota with two men inside following behind. "Yosi, I had a premonition about today. You must believe me when I say..." pausing for added emphasis, "My life depends on your actions right now."

"Do not worry. I have taken every precaution as you can see from the guards on the streets. This car is armored like a tank. Have no fears, until we meet with the Palestinian negotiator. Then, you should pray for salvation." Yosi smiled reassuringly.
Howard nervously fidgeted and glanced back again. "Yosi, I know that you may find this hard to believe, but there are two men in the car behind us who will try to kill me when we stop. Please do something."

Laughing, Yosi responded, "You worry too much my friend. We cannot be touched here with our elite forces guarding our passage."

Howard shifted nervously like a caged animal. "Please, Yosi. Trust me. Just check them out."

"We will be late. Must I remind you of the sensitive nature of your mission here? Let us speak no more of this." Yosi said this with a note of finality in his voice.

In desperation, Howard screamed at Yosi, "If you do nothing to check out the car behind us, I will refuse to leave this car."
Angrily, Yosi responded, "You are paranoid, like all Americans. We have more respect for civil liberties than you give us credit for in your press." Disgusted, he added, "I will see what we can do." Yosi leaned forward, whispering into the ear of the guard, who spoke softly into the air. Howard turned to look back, seeing two soldiers walk into the path of the car behind them, their guns pointed at the driver. Turning the corner, he just caught the driver getting out with his hands in the air before they were lost to view.

Howard heard the muffled ring of a cell phone. Reaching into his coat, Yosi answered, "Yes…I see. Thank you." Turning to face Howard with a look of amazement, he said, "You are clairvoyant, my friend. Two infidels armed with guns and grenades were following us. Forgive my reluctance to act. On behalf of the Jewish state and my family, I thank you." Pausing for emphasis, he added, "I just have one question. How did you know?"

With a look of relief, Howard wiped his brow and observed, "Some things are better left unanswered."

Copyright ©2002 David Frazier.  All Rights Reserved