Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again (18 page)

One of them whistled softly to the man
watching out on the opposite side to signal that they had completed laying the
charges and the four of them climbed back up to join the other members of the
cells.  They all took up their positions on the hill and observed the highway
from there.  They waited like this, quiet and withdrawn as they hid behind the
rocks.  A few minutes later, approaching vehicles were heard below them and
they lined up and horizontally and cocked their rifles.

The shadows they cast showed that three
vehicles were traveling one after the other.  At that moment the charges
exploded and, although Karma was expecting it, he got a fright, his heart
skipped a beat and his throat was so constricted that he could not swallow.

An enormous flash of
light appeared at the same moment as a ball of fire rose up in the air and – POUF
disappeared into the thick darkness.  After a second, someone yelled:

“Fire!” Ten rifles fired rounds of lead
bullets at the three cars that had stalled on the road below.

            Karma
noticed that the last car in the convoy was less damaged than the first two and
he aimed his rifle at it and repeatedly fired.  He saw the phosphorescent lines
of light making their way to the car till he heard the click that told him the
cartridge was empty.  The blood coursed crazily through his arteries and he
felt his soul fluttering insanely.

            He
remained on top of the hill and did not join the rest of the members of the
group, who went down to the exploded cars to check what remained of them.  He heard
solitary shots and understood they were making sure no one was left alive.

            Ten
minutes later, they gathered together and Talabani addressed them.

            “We
have already received orders to get out of here.  We have been informed that
the Iranians are working fast to find the assassins of the senior government
officials.”

            “Where
will we go?” whispered one.

            “What
do you think?  We’ll go back to where we were,” someone said with a sigh. 
Karma could not tell whether it was a sigh of relief or disappointment.

They split up and did not
fly together but returned in dribs and drabs to the training camp in the
American desert.  Within three days, the ten fighters were sent out on other
assignments in the USA.

Karma was sent to continue his studies
and a new period in his life began.

They asked him to lecture and instruct
in the technical subjects in which he had specialized. So, the ‘man in the
field’ that he had been, now became a lecturer, wore a suit and stood before an
audience of students.
  All, who met him in his new image,
would never have imagined in their wildest dreams who he was and what he had
done in his former incarnation.

One day, he noticed a young woman with
her brother, Mustapha, a student of his.  Karma glanced briefly at her dark
eyes and was enchanted by her.  But, when he heard Mustapha reprimand her, he
realized that the feeling was mutual.  At the end of the lesson, Mustapha
approached him and apologized.

“Karma, Sir,” he said, “I wish to inform
you that I cannot continue with this course.” Karma looked at him and then at
his sister, who stood quietly beside the door.

“If it isn’t offensive to you, I would
like your permission to meet with your sister because Allah brought her here
and it seems you were his emissary.”

Mustapha did not leave the course and
Karma received permission to meet with Salima, his sister, together with her
eldest brother.  But first, he was invited to their home, where he met her
brother, Effendi Khaidar, the person who made all the decisions in the family.

The weeks went by, but it was difficult
for Karma to strengthen his relationship with her.  Every day, he thought that
they may soon recall him to combat duty.  He also did not find the courage to
share this with Salima or propose marriage to her.  One day, at the end of the
evening, Effendi asked her to go home and he stayed to speak to Karma.

“What is happening, brother?” he tried
to broach the subject of his sister.  Karma smiled awkwardly and instead of answering
shook hands with him in silence.

That same day, he decided that the next
time they met, he would tell her what he had in mind.  He would let her decide
if she wanted to continue with him and whether a husband like him suited her.

At the next meeting, before Mustapha
arrived, Karma took advantage of his absence to talk to Salima.

“Salima, my dearest, you know I like
being with you.”  She laughed shyly and tenderly touched his arm.

“You know that now, I am working as a
lecturer but, the truth is that I don’t know what will happen to me later.” 
She looked up at him in surprise.

“I mean to say that they could send me
to another country one day.”

“I don’t understand.  Why?”

He examined her expression, fearing to
endanger their relationship but, she spoke again.

“Do you mean that they will send you to
work in their branches in other countries?”

Karma still hesitated to mention the
nature of his activities.

“Listen, Salima, I might have to flee to
Iran, Syria or Saudi Arabia and there…”

“Ya'anu (meaning) an Arab-speaking
country.”

“Aiwa” (Right).

“And what will you have to do there?”

“I don’t know.  Whatever they tell me to
do.”

“Fine, I will come with you, there’s no
problem at all.”

Her cheerful laughter proved that he had
not managed to convey the message he wanted to get through to her, that one day
he would have to go, abandon everything and leave.  He also could not find the
courage to explain it right then, because Mustapha appeared before them, out of
breath, and got into the car.

The matter did not arise again and Karma
almost forgot about it.  After an acquaintanceship of seven months, he decided
to propose to her.  Before the meeting, he hesitated again whether to tell her
about the dangers or on his future assignments but flinched from doing so.  He
thought that it would be the right thing to do before marrying her.  On the
other hand, he understood that even if he told her after their marriage, she
would never be able to divorce him because they would be married under Sharia
Law.

Karma wanted to have this conversation
in a pleasant light-hearted atmosphere and Salima was surprised when Karma
pulled her to a different pub, far from the café where they usually
met.  The bar was located on the corner of Kennedy and Kissinger Avenues and Salima
chose a table close to the glass wall that looked out onto the street. Here, he
surprised her again and ordered a meal instead the usual coffee and cake, she
expected.

“Roast lamb with rice and curry,” he
told the waitress, “what about you, Salimi?”

Salima knew that when he called her
that, he was revealing his love for her and so, when he began to speak about
something that would happen in the future, she felt at ease.  This time, too,
she did not relate to his words with the seriousness he wished to convey.

“My wife,” he said and Salima melted
with delight.  “You know that your husband will get up one day and go to…”

“Yes, to Iran or Jordan.  I haven’t
forgotten,” she announced and continued watching what was happening in the
street outside the glass wall.

“That’s right and I am likely to be
absent for a very long time.”

“Yes, I’ve already understood that and I
remember you told me I could join you and we wouldn’t have to be apart.”

“No, Salimi.  No one will be permitted
to accompany me.”

“Do you mean to say that you will be
alone, and no one will see what you’re doing?”   She declared.  “Top secret,
right?”

“More or less.  It’s all top secret.”

Now, she moved her eyes away from the
glass and fixed her gaze on him.  Her demeanor grew solemn.

“And what will happen when, by the Grace
of Allah, we are blessed with children?” She whispered and he remained silent. 
He wanted to touch her, to hold her hand, but he knew that was forbidden in
public and heard her speak again.

“Are you saying that you will simply get
up and go as if you don’t have a family and as if we mean nothing to you?”

There was tension in her voice, but
then, she laughed and spoke again:

“I don’t believe you, it isn’t
possible.”

He cracked the joints of his fingers and
kept staring at her in silence, hoping she understood that he was confirming
what she had just put into words.  So, when she asked if his work was
dangerous, he immediately replied:

“Yes.”

“Hmmm,” she muttered.

Just then, the waiter came and began
placing the plates of food on the table.  Their attention was absorbed in
eating the meal and they did not speak again until it was over.  After they
left the restaurant, they never discussed the subject again until it became a
reality.

They were married according to all the Muslim
religious precepts by a Qadi and Salima moved into Karma’s apartment, which he had
received a few years earlier from the ‘Mossad’.

A year later his eldest daughter, named
Kahit after his beloved grandmother, was born.  Three years later his second
daughter arrived and she was named Naziah after his real mother, the mother who
had held him so tightly, even after her death.

They continued living their routine
lives, almost forgetting he would be called to the flag one day.

*
* *

Almost six years after the ambush, a
discussion was held at the ‘Mossad’ to deal with the issue of finding a partner
for Abigail, the agent in the field, and San spoke.

“Lucy needs an operator and I believe
there is someone suitable. You know who he is.”

“Are you referring to our ‘dormant agent,'
the college lecturer?”  Foxy expressed in a surprise.

“Forget about him,” Barak interrupted.  “It
seems to me that he has been idle for too long.  I would describe him as an old
horse, put out to stud now.  In his time, he was like a champion race horse,
but now, he has passed his prime.”

“Oh no,” San objected, “The guy must be
about twenty-eight years old or even less.  He certainly isn’t a young foal,
but he can’t be considered an old cart horse.”  San recalled the bright
youngster, who came to his home four or five years earlier.

“He’s too good to retire yet.”

“Since you believe in him, I suggest
that you be the one to meet with him in the USA.  If he is still fit for
service, get him back to work.”

None of the people sitting there could
have known that they were now also sending San to meet his fate.

San prepared for the long flight and,
five days after the meeting, he was shaking hands with Karma. 

San found himself looking at a man, full
of energy, but quite different from the youngster he remembered.  His appearance
was that of a typical American and he had to admit to himself that the spark
had disappeared from his amber eyes.  At that second, it flashed through his
mind that, perhaps, it had been a mistake to delay activating him for so long. 
Perhaps, he had even missed being able to use this exceptional man from the
desert.

They met in a café at the
intersection of Kennedy and Kissinger Avenues, exactly where Karma and Salima
had sat before their marriage, only this time, they were seated outside, on the
sidewalk.  The tables were surrounded by squares of artificial shrubs but were
completely exposed to the noise of the bustling street and the public on the
sidewalk.

“What’s up, my man?” San asked and
almost expected the answer he got.

“I’ve been waiting for you.  What took
you so long?” Karma inquired.

He smiled his conquering smile that melted
whoever looked at him and added:

“I hope the rust in my joints hasn’t yet
spread to my brain.”

When he laughed, San looked at Karma’s
face and eyes that radiated happiness and in a split second, he knew he hadn’t
missed the opportunity.

“I believe we can dissolve that rust,”
San remarked.

“The truth is that I don’t remember very
much of what I knew,” Karma admitted.  “But, if you do decide to recall me, I only
ask that you give me time to prepare her and the girls.”

A shudder ran down San’s back.  He
wondered how to tell the man sitting before him that he didn’t have even five
days.  At the same time, Karma wondered how to tell Salima, his wife, who had
probably forgotten she had married a man, who would get up and disappear from
her life for indeterminate periods.

“How many children do you have?”

 A smile lit up Karma’s eyes when he
told him that his second daughter, Naziah, was three months old and his first
born, Kahit, was almost four years old.

“Hmm…” muttered San and pulled a
passport out of his pocket.