the left, parallel to the sheer face of the mountainside.
Collapsing at the edge, Abu Faddah kept shouting his son’s name over and over, while far below a puff of dust mushroomed over Faddah, hiding him and the dead Israeli boy.
Something entered his vision from the left and he turned his head, too stunned to react.
The attacker swung back like an avenging pendulum, legs perpendicular to the wall, racing at Abu Faddah in an upward arc like a two-legged spider. He tried to fall back, away, but the attacker grabbed the front of his khaki shirt and pulled him down like an anchor. Dropping forward, Abu Faddah hit the low wall with both hands, blocking his fall.
The attacker was in uniform. Long hair. A woman?
A dagger appeared in her right hand. She stabbed upward through the mask into his left eye.
Fire exploded inside his head. He screamed and vaulted backward, tearing himself from her grasp. He rolled on the dirt floor, pressing his fist to the wound, liquid oozing from his punctured eye.
The woman landed on top of him.
He pushed her off, struggling to his feet. He forced himself to remove his hands from his face. His right eye worked, though blurred with tears.
The soldier came at him with the dagger raised for a downward stab.
He stepped backward, hitting the wall, and grabbed her wrist with both hands. She stabbed at him with inhuman force. The sharp point of the dagger, pink in the faint light, approached his face. She was taller than he, thin as a wire, stronger than any woman could be. Her mouth was open, moaning.
An avalanche of rocks cascaded off the barricaded entrance, and the Israeli commander uttered a staccato of Hebrew words.
She pushed harder, and Abu Faddah resisted, but the tip of the dagger inched closer and closer. In a second it would penetrate his good eye, then his brain.
The commander’s words were followed by the sound of a weapon being cocked. Another burst of Hebrew words from the commander had no effect on the Israeli soldier—she leaned downward with all her might, pushing the dagger at his eye.
A gunshot exploded and she screamed in pain and dropped, hugging her knee to her chest. The hostages wailed in fear.
Abu Faddah knew he had only a sliver of time before the Israeli commander corrected his aim. But there was no place to hide, no door to escape. He staggered to the cliff’s edge, preferring to join Faddah at the bottom rather than be shot in the leg and captured by the cursed Jews.
The Israeli commander shouted, “Stop!”
The hostages struggled to free themselves.
More rocks tumbled from the barricade. “Stop!”
Abu Faddah put his foot on the low wall, ready to jump. He noticed the steel cable slithering over the ledge into the room. He turned and pulled hard, freeing the cable from under the soldier. She looked up and began to crawl toward him.
He pulled the grenade from his pocket.
She groaned, dragging one leg on the ground, leaving a dark trail behind her as she clawed her way closer. Two of the hostages were on their feet, kicking loose the strings that bound them. On the opposite end of the room, the Israeli commander pushed more rocks off the barricade and squeezed in through the gap.
Abu Faddah found the fuse ring and pulled.
The woman soldier grasped for his leg, missing it.
He tossed the grenade to the center of the room.
She grabbed his shoe.
Abu Faddah kicked free, leaving his shoe in her hand. He gripped the cable and leaped into the empty air just as a terrible blast pounded his ears.
Almost three decades later…
Arizona, Sunday, August 3
----
A horse whinnied outside the banquet hall, barely audible over the murmur of the guests. Rabbi Josh Frank glanced over his shoulder toward the tall doors in the rear, wondering whether the Phoenician Resort allowed horses on its grounds. The darkened hall was packed with round tables and smiling faces.
On the stage, Dick Drexel of Jab Magazine declared, “Welcome to the third annual award
Collapsing at the edge, Abu Faddah kept shouting his son’s name over and over, while far below a puff of dust mushroomed over Faddah, hiding him and the dead Israeli boy.
Something entered his vision from the left and he turned his head, too stunned to react.
The attacker swung back like an avenging pendulum, legs perpendicular to the wall, racing at Abu Faddah in an upward arc like a two-legged spider. He tried to fall back, away, but the attacker grabbed the front of his khaki shirt and pulled him down like an anchor. Dropping forward, Abu Faddah hit the low wall with both hands, blocking his fall.
The attacker was in uniform. Long hair. A woman?
A dagger appeared in her right hand. She stabbed upward through the mask into his left eye.
Fire exploded inside his head. He screamed and vaulted backward, tearing himself from her grasp. He rolled on the dirt floor, pressing his fist to the wound, liquid oozing from his punctured eye.
The woman landed on top of him.
He pushed her off, struggling to his feet. He forced himself to remove his hands from his face. His right eye worked, though blurred with tears.
The soldier came at him with the dagger raised for a downward stab.
He stepped backward, hitting the wall, and grabbed her wrist with both hands. She stabbed at him with inhuman force. The sharp point of the dagger, pink in the faint light, approached his face. She was taller than he, thin as a wire, stronger than any woman could be. Her mouth was open, moaning.
An avalanche of rocks cascaded off the barricaded entrance, and the Israeli commander uttered a staccato of Hebrew words.
She pushed harder, and Abu Faddah resisted, but the tip of the dagger inched closer and closer. In a second it would penetrate his good eye, then his brain.
The commander’s words were followed by the sound of a weapon being cocked. Another burst of Hebrew words from the commander had no effect on the Israeli soldier—she leaned downward with all her might, pushing the dagger at his eye.
A gunshot exploded and she screamed in pain and dropped, hugging her knee to her chest. The hostages wailed in fear.
Abu Faddah knew he had only a sliver of time before the Israeli commander corrected his aim. But there was no place to hide, no door to escape. He staggered to the cliff’s edge, preferring to join Faddah at the bottom rather than be shot in the leg and captured by the cursed Jews.
The Israeli commander shouted, “Stop!”
The hostages struggled to free themselves.
More rocks tumbled from the barricade. “Stop!”
Abu Faddah put his foot on the low wall, ready to jump. He noticed the steel cable slithering over the ledge into the room. He turned and pulled hard, freeing the cable from under the soldier. She looked up and began to crawl toward him.
He pulled the grenade from his pocket.
She groaned, dragging one leg on the ground, leaving a dark trail behind her as she clawed her way closer. Two of the hostages were on their feet, kicking loose the strings that bound them. On the opposite end of the room, the Israeli commander pushed more rocks off the barricade and squeezed in through the gap.
Abu Faddah found the fuse ring and pulled.
The woman soldier grasped for his leg, missing it.
He tossed the grenade to the center of the room.
She grabbed his shoe.
Abu Faddah kicked free, leaving his shoe in her hand. He gripped the cable and leaped into the empty air just as a terrible blast pounded his ears.
Almost three decades later…
Arizona, Sunday, August 3
----
A horse whinnied outside the banquet hall, barely audible over the murmur of the guests. Rabbi Josh Frank glanced over his shoulder toward the tall doors in the rear, wondering whether the Phoenician Resort allowed horses on its grounds. The darkened hall was packed with round tables and smiling faces.
On the stage, Dick Drexel of Jab Magazine declared, “Welcome to the third annual award
Similar Books
Dragon Fate: Book Six of The Age of Fire
E.E. Knight
The Sybian Club
Selena Kitt
The Guardian (The Gifted Book 1)
C. L. McCourt
Children of Dust
Ali Eteraz
Valley of Decision
Lynne Gentry
Christmas at the Hummingbird House
Donna Ball
Just One Taste
Maggie Robinson
Barbara Metzger
A Debt to Delia
An Incidental Reckoning
Greg Walker