Newton’s Fire

II

Avram packed the jar of ashes safely into the passenger footwell of his truck then bade farewell to Shlomo and his men and drove southwest towards the coast. His back and ankle began to ache from the accumulated driving, yet it was lack of sleep, engine fumes and the heat of the day that really got to him. He kept having to pinch the skin on the back of his hand to keep himself awake.

He reached Netanya in good time, however. He stopped for something to eat then continued to the warehouse. He entered the passcode into the keypad and the steel shutter clanked slowly upwards. He parked inside, lowered the shutter again, and turned on the lights. The warehouse was packed with the detritus of a hundred house clearances: old washing machines and refrigerators, boxes of books, rolled up carpets, beds and sofas. The only items that looked out of place were three dust carts he’d had stolen several months before from the streets of Jerusalem.

He checked his watch: still half an hour until Danel arrived. Plenty of time to check in with Croke. He set up the satellite phone outside and hurried through the security protocols.

‘Finally,’ grunted Croke. ‘I was beginning to think you’d bolted.’

‘I’ve been busy.’

‘We’ve all been busy.’

‘You’ve found it, then?’

A grunt of laughter. ‘How the hell are we supposed to find it when you and your idiot nephew keep sending us to the wrong damned places?’ And he ran Avram through recent events, including the switch back to London.

‘You’ll find it,’ said Avram, unperturbed. ‘What’s destined is destined.’

‘Maybe. But we’re cutting it fine. Incidentally, we’ll be filming it live for our friends in the States. Will you want to watch too?’

‘Of course,’ said Avram. ‘And my nephew is to be there as well.’

‘I’ll see what I can arrange.’

‘No,’ said Avram. ‘He is to be there. And then he is to accompany it on every step of its journey.’

‘Like I said, I’ll see what-’

‘You’re not listening to me,’ said Avram. ‘I know what can be done with technology these days. I know about special effects and computer-generated imagery. I know about switches and decoys. So let me make it clear: this won’t happen unless my nephew verifies it to my complete satisfaction then stays with it all the way. Do you understand?’

‘Fine,’ sighed Croke. ‘I’ll see to it.’

There was still no sign of Danel, so Avram now took care of another piece of business. He set up a new Hotmail account on his laptop and filled its contacts list with email addresses for as many journalists, media companies, embassies and pressure groups as he could find. Then he opened a new Word document and drafted his two sets of demands, searching the net for the names of suitable prisoners for the first, double-checking the registration number of Croke’s jet for the second.

He was just about finished when Danel finally arrived at the wheel of a white minibus. Avram waved in welcome. They’d first met some four years ago while he’d been on a tour of the settlements, lecturing on the Third Temple. Danel had stood up during the Q amp;A and asked bluntly why so many Jews talked about bringing down the Dome, yet never did anything. A common enough question, but while everyone else had laughed, Danel himself had remained stonefaced. Avram had intercepted him at the door, had asked him whether he was prepared to do something about it. Not only he, it had turned out, but his fellow settlers also, enraged by the recent demolition of their Havat Gilad homes.

They climbed down from the minibus, stretched and joked. Ten of them in all. In their T-shirts, shorts, trainers and sunglasses, they could scarcely have drawn a starker contrast with Shlomo and his Haredim. They even had two women with them. Yet, though young and seemingly casual, they were in truth tough, disciplined and incredibly angry.

Avram nodded greeting to them all. ‘Let’s get busy,’ he said. ‘We’ve got work to do.’