you that Von Werner is trying to heal himself?”
“I’m certain of it.”
He flicked through one last time and then snapped the journal shut. Natalie and Dennis still had their faces shoved into the lap top screen. Hutchinson suddenly jumped to his feet.
“Give me your tickets.”
They did as they were told. The American dashed off to find an official.
“What’s going on?” Natalie asked.
“ I Don’t know.”
Hutchinson was taken to a desk and a customs official came out to speak to him.
“I need to cancel these tickets.” he said, “I need three tickets for the next flight to Tel Aviv.”
The customs man picked up his telephone.
“Peter?” Natalie said.
“I think we’re still in the game,” he replied.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CITY OF RAFAH, SOUTHERN GAZA.
Natalie looked across at the Mediterranean sea just four miles away and twinkling in the sunshine. It was a warm late October afternoon. The sky overhead clear. The sound of Israeli fighter jets never far away.
For the first time the team of Natalie, Dennis and Hutchinson had entered a war zone. From Rome Hutchinson had intended for the three of them to enter Israel directly but Dennis had persuaded them the easiest and best way to enter the Palestinian territories, currently closed to tourism, was through Egypt and the Rafah border crossing.
They had needed special permission to enter Gaza, as all visitors do, and during a three day stay over in Alexandria, Egypt, Hutchinson had managed to go to his office and make a phone call to a contact from the international solidarity movement for human welfare, otherwise known as the ISM, to invite them in as guests. Dennis’ status as a freelance journalist helping to speed up the normally three week waiting period process for the invite. Hutchinson had managed to arrange important archaeological permits to accompany them.
Dennis had acquired the 1994 Land Rover defender they were travelling in from someone he knew in Alexandria and the vehicle was perfect for what they needed. He had paid a fair price for it and had removed the black UN lettering from the white paint.
“Wouldn’t it be better to leave those on?” Hutchinson had asked.
“No,” Dennis had replied, pulling the last of the black stickers off. Their outline could still be made out as the paint around them had discoloured over the years, “Trust me they’ll only draw the wrong sort of attention to us and as westerners we are targets for kidnapping as it is,” he glanced at Natalie in the rear view mirror, “It might be a good idea to get rid of your ‘I love NY’ hat,”
He threw her a black and white Keffiyeh, the traditional head scarf worn by Arabs, “Put that on instead.”
“I thought only men wore them,” she said, tying it in place.
“Some women wear them. In some countries they’ve become a fashionable item.”
She concealed her blonde ponytail in it and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window.
“I quite like it,” she said.
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just flown into Gaza this morning,” Hutchinson said as they passed a sign for the Yasser Arafat airport.
“I told you,” Dennis said, “The airport was destroyed in 2001 by Israel and the other airport simply known as Gaza, two miles from the city of Khan Yunis is currently blockaded by a no fly zone controlled by Israel. Nothing can land or take off.”
“So everything has to come in and go out this way?”
“Pretty much. Though of course there are other border crossings. One is at the other end of the strip known as Ezra and the others are Karni, Kerem Shalom and Sufi, and these are cargo terminals.”
“Are they all as painfully slow as Rafah was?”
“Pretty much. Though of course a lot of it depends on the mood of the border guard on the day. It probably doesn’t help that certain governments have declared the Hamas government as a terrorist organisation.”
“Which governments?” Hutchinson asked, expecting the UK and US to probably be spearheading it. He wasn’t surprised at the answer.
“The US and the UK,” Dennis replied, “The EU, Canada, Japan and of course Israel.”
“Are there any friendly nations?”
“The Arab nations, Iran, Russia and Turkey.”
“And what do you think?”
“I don’t get involved in politics. But I will say I’ve always been treated fairly by Hamas. Remember I lived and worked out here before the coup.”
Hutchinson let his mind drift back to their morning’s events. Crossing from Rafah in Egypt to Rafah in Palestine had been painfully slow. The city was split between the two countries with a