Highlander - Donna Lettow [87]
Beside him, Avram was pale. His eyes were shadowed, and he could see all the way to the heights of Masada with those bottomless eyes. He looked almost lost, distracted by the voices of a thousand ghosts in his head. Then he stepped forward as if to challenge Jurek. “No! You don’t know what you’re saying. That’s not the answer. That’s never the answer.”
“Tzaddik, don’t you understand?” Jurek said. “What we do here will be remembered forever—our deeds will be immortal, and no matter what the Germans do, they can’t take that away.”
Avram turned to Anielewicz, pleading with him. “Mordechai, please, there has to be another way.”
His young leader was as torn up inside as Avram, but he understood the wisdom of Jurek’s words. “What other answer is there, Tzaddik?” he said softly. “The ovens? The Gestapo? The gas? Don’t you see, this way we are the masters of our own destiny, not the slaves of the Germans. Surely you can understand that.”
“Only too well.” Avram knew it was the answer. He knew their backs were to the wall, that there was no hope remaining for an outcome that didn’t end in the death of everyone. But knowing it was logical couldn’t make it any easier to face. Especially not again. There was so much Avram wanted to say, couldn’t say, but he saw the look of determination in Anielewicz’s eyes and knew their destiny was sealed. “If this is what you want.”
“But no one should be forced to do this against their will,” Anielewicz continued. “Anyone who wants to take their chances with the Germans is free to go. Tzaddik?”
Avram shook his head. “I live and die with you, Mordechai. You know that.”
Jurek spoke again. “But who pulls the trigger?” There was silence in the room.
“I say we draw lots among the commanders.” Avram couldn’t believe the words were coming out of his mouth, but it had worked all those centuries ago. It would work now. He cast about the game room, looking for anything that could be used, and spied a deck of cards on a poker table. “Aces high,” he said, shuffling the deck. “Low card does the deed.”
One by one, the unit commanders came forward to draw their card. Jurek drew the five of diamonds, Arieh Linder the seven. Anielewicz himself drew the queen of hearts. Then the others. Finally, only Avram remained. He took a deep breath and drew.
The two of spades. He looked stricken, as if the foundation of the world had been kicked from under him.
Mira touched his arm, “God will be with you, Tzaddik, I know He will.” She kissed him softly on the cheek, then took her place at Anielewicz’s side.
Jurek moved painfully to Avram and embraced him. “This is a holy thing you do, Tzaddik, remember that. And in days to come, the world will know: we rose up for a helpless people and saved as much honor as we could. What more can we ask for?”
Avram stood unmoving, eyes closed, gathering his thoughts and his courage. Then, coming to peace with himself, pulled his pistol from his belt. “I’m ready.”
“Who will be the first?” Anielewicz asked the assembled. “Who will be the first to say damn the Nazis, we’re taking back our lives? We’re taking back the honor of the People of God?” There was a deadly stillness in the room, everyone afraid of the inevitable, no one rushing to be the first.
After a long silence, MacLeod stepped forward. “I will.” If this was truly their wish, he would try to make it easier for them.
Anielewicz looked at him with gratitude and a new respect. “Tzaddik was right. You are a hero, MacLeod. My apologies.”
MacLeod wished he was truly making a sacrifice. He knew the guilt of this moment, of not being able to give his life for these people, would stay with him forever. “You’re the real hero, Mordechai. Me, I was just along for the ride.”
“Go with God,” Anielewicz pronounced his benediction.
MacLeod moved to Avram. He embraced Avram to him and whispered in his ear with great