Upon hearing Rina speak his language fluently, the soldier launched into a tirade. What was she doing out here alone? Was she crazy? Hadn’t she read a newspaper for the last year? Didn’t she know she was inviting herself to her own funeral? Of course, she was American and that explained everything. What the hell was wrong with these crazy American fanatics? Didn’t they know what they were doing to Israel, how they put every soldier—every Jewish soldier—in danger with their rhetoric and their stubbornness? Who needed them anyway?

Then the soldier noticed her shot-out window.

Rina listened patiently as the man went ballistic.

Did she expect sympathy for her ordeal? Well, she wasn’t going to get anything from him. Nosirree. Not when she not only endangered herself but every single man and woman in the Israeli army. And now that she had arrived here in Hebron, how the hell did she plan to get back? Of course, God would take care. The stock answer to everything. God would take care. Except God wasn’t out here, shvitzing like a behaima—sweating like a beast—watching his rear end every second of his duty, fending off hate-driven terrorists, doing frightening, dangerous work just to guard a bunch of crazies who believed that mass suicide was a virtue.

He stopped abruptly, blew out air, then gingerly traced the bullet hole with his finger. “It is so incredibly stupid, you coming out here. No one comes out here, let alone a woman. Who are you? A terrorist in disguise?”

Rina told him she was not a terrorist.

The man didn’t seem comforted, asking now what was he going to do with her.

Rina spoke softly and meaningfully. “I’ll wait until one of the jeeps goes back to Jerusalem. I’m very sorry to cause you grief. I showed very bad judgment. I do know what’s going on, but I guess old habits are hard to break. I lived here twelve years ago. I remember a much different Israel.”

“A much, much different Israel.” The soldier cocked his hip and made eye contact. She smiled at him. It seemed to soften his anger. He said, “You speak Hebrew very well. How long did you live here?”

“About three years. Back then you could travel the main roads without too much concern. Of course, if you went into the remote areas and passed through the small villages, you always carried a gun. I wish I had a gun now.”

The soldier eyed her suspiciously. “You should have thought of that before you came out here like an American cowboy.”

“Yes, I should have.” Rina looked at the sky. “Is the Ma’arah open?”

The soldier shifted the Uzi in his arms. “For the moment, until another incident closes it up.”