Mor and Anise agreed that this was a good idea. They divided the map into three areas: Anise studied the route to Herod’s Gate, while Mor and Yam concentrated on the branches veering off the central junction. They numbered all the branches and memorized the exits.
When they were done, they were exhausted and decided to risk staying put to grab a few hours of sleep. Yam put out the fire to make sure they wouldn’t be discovered by anyone else down there, and then the three bunched up together to stay warm.
Anise was unable to fall asleep. Her proximity to Yam, lying to her right, made her uncomfortable; the memory of his lips on hers made her body shiver. To her left lay Mor with his reassuring warmth and familiar smell. Both of them next to her was too much. Much more than she could bear.
At the hospital, Theo, Sual, and Amalia were sitting with Superintendent Moshe Azoulai of the Jerusalem police in the doctors’ lounge, which was serving as a temporary headquarters. Moshe was unshaven. Since the start of the attacks two days ago, he hadn’t slept at all. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to sit with three worried parents, but one of them was the Italian consul, and the foreign minister had made it amply clear that the senior officer was to attend to this matter in person.
Superintendent Azoulai had tried to argue with the minister, explaining that, at the moment, there was a shortage of manpower and that it was impossible to dedicate officers to look for the consul’s missing son. But it was useless, so here he was. He did his best to keep the meeting short.
“It’s dangerous to enter the city,” he told the anxious parents. “This is what we call a rolling event. The security forces and the army are doing all they can, but hundreds of thousands of residents are trapped and being used as human shields. We’re limited in terms of the actions we can take because we don’t want to harm innocent bystanders. The terrorists seem to be leaving through a network of tunnels that are, at this very moment, being identified and located by our forces. This attack was carefully planned over a long time. Now, elite units have managed to evacuate most of the injured from the embassy building, but there were further attacks in the neighborhood, and at this time there is no way of knowing what happened to your children.”
Theo, Sual, and Amalia watched him in stunned silence. Moshe gave them a tired look. “I promise you that the moment it becomes possible we will send a search party. But right now there’s nobody to send. The city is in flames.”
Theo thought about all the years he had already wasted mourning for Claudia instead of loving his son. Well, he wasn’t about to wait anymore for anyone.
He took Sual’s uninjured hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll manage somehow,” he whispered.
Sual looked at the seeping bandage running the length of his torso. She worried his stitches had popped. “You must get back into bed,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument. Walking him back, she had to support him every step of the long corridor.
The hospital was overflowing. Dozens of injured lay in the hallways for lack of space in the rooms and new victims, both soldiers and civilians, kept pouring in. Sual tried but failed to catch the attention of a nurse. She finally gave up, helped Theo lie down, and went in search of a doctor. Amalia used the opportunity to sit down next to Theo.
“Yoav is coming around too,” she told him. “In a few days, I think we may be able to quarrel again.” She was trying to sound cynical and in control, but by looking at her face it was clear to Theo how relieved she was.
“So, are we going out to look for them?” she finally asked.
“Just let them try to stop us,” Theo answered.
Chapter 11
In the tunnel underneath the Old City, Mor, realizing they were no longer alone, prodded Yam awake, motioning him to stay silent. Yam, in turn, woke up Anise, who lay asleep between them, and the three quietly packed up their little camp, hid the leftover food, and erased all signs of the fire.
Sounds were now coming frightfully close by. “They’re speaking Arabic,” said Yam.
“I can’t tell what they’re saying,” Anise murmured. “It sounds as if it’s coming through a wall. Let’s try to get a little closer,” she said.
“It’s too risky,” Yam replied, but Anise ignored him. He doesn’t get to decide, certainly not for me, she thought. In any case, what did they have to lose? Chances of getting out of here alive were slim, no matter what.
“Hey, wait up, you nutcase,” Mor hissed at her. Yam had no choice now but to follow the other two.
All three inched forward in the dark as quietly as possible until they reached the point where the tunnel branched. “Follow me. This is the part of the map I memorized,” whispered Mor, pulling them to the right. The tunnel quickly turned into nothing more than a crawl space, the ceiling so low they now had to proceed on all fours. “This way bypasses the tunnel from above,” Mor explained. Indeed, the sounds were now coming from directly beneath them, almost touching distance away. There was a narrow opening at the end of the crawl space where it was possible to observe what was happening below with relative safety.
The large chamber beneath them was well equipped. Two large spotlights mounted on a wall filled it with a harsh, bright light. One corner contained a stockpile of weapons. Yam could see hand grenades and rifles, and even a few rocket-propelled grenades. Some of the men were wearing stocking caps and others
