The Fiat had slowed to accommodate the heavy traffic of cars, carts, and camels. Rina’s Subaru was nudging against the Fiat’s back bumper. She was directly behind the car and that wasn’t good at all. But where was she to go? She was trapped in congestion.

A louder clunk against the trunk of her car, this one heavier, more meaningful. She wanted to turn around but didn’t dare. A glance to her right showed she was hemmed in by another donkey cart. Her eyes panned her surroundings, assessing her options. In the distance, a flash of army green.

Another hard clunk against her car.

Rina slid down into her seat, amazed by how calm she was. All those safety drills she had done when she had lived out here years ago. It had all come back.

The Fiat slowed, then hooked over to a small unpaved lane, not much more than a rut in the ground. Rina was not about to follow an Arab car into the isolated hillside. She had eavesdropped on Milligan’s conversation, had gotten the Fiat’s license plates, had tailed it into Hebron until it headed for the mountains. She had done enough. It was time to go home.

Heart hammering in her chest, Rina did an abrupt U-turn and headed back to Derech Hebron, once again into town. Sweat poured off her forehead as she carefully drove the car back through the marketplace. Everything seemed under control.

Then the deafening blast inside her car! Light flying, stinging her face! Instinctively, Rina ducked, but managed to keep control of the car. A donkey brayed, someone kicking at her car door, the sound of curses hurled in her direction. Through tear-stung eyes, Rina saw a streak of olive pass by.

An army jeep!

With finesse worthy of a race-car driver, she twisted and turned the Subaru, nearly knocking down a fruit stand, until she was tailing the jeep, until a platoon of army green came into view. A half dozen jeeps and dozens of soldiers—men and women in Israeli uniforms armed with Uzis!

Pools clouding her eyes, Rina realized where she was! Directly in front of her vision was a limestone building with a dark, cavernous archway for its entry. She had reached Ma’arat HaMachpelah—the Tomb of the Patriarchs. The ancient burial place of the holy ancestors. She brought the choking Subaru up a steep gravel hill, then pulled over and parked. Laying her forehead onto the steering wheel, she wiped glass off her hands and buried her face in the crook of her sweat-soaked arms.

She wept aloud.

Decker was trying to remain calm, but wasn’t succeeding. Having given up on Rina’s return to the Bursa, he went back to the hotel, deciding to wait for her there. But another hour had passed since she had left, two in all, and Decker was downright frantic.