Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again (48 page)

He decided not to pick up the call, but
then, he heard beeps from his communications device from the backpack beside
him.  He was surprised because he knew the rule was never to send messages to
someone on his way to an assignment.

The signals continued obstinately.  He
decided to look for another telephone to call Abigail and not answer the radio
device, so as not to reveal his location.

A quarter of an hour later, the
buildings of the first town came into view and when it was almost entirely
dark, he stopped in front of one of them.

Seven steps led to the first floor and
Karma knocked on one of the doors and waited.

An
elderly woman, clad in a wide dark gown, opened the door and stared at him
blearily. Karma doubted whether she understood what she was seeing, but a
younger woman peeked at him from behind her.

“Hello, please forgive me.  I have to
make a call to save someone and receive a message.”  He said the first thing
that came into his head and afterward also thought that the sentence that he
had blurted out was accurate.

“Mother, why not invite him in,” the
young woman asked and pointed to the wall.  Karma hurried to the telephone,
hopping over toys and going around a baby crawling on the floor.  He dialed
Abigail’s number and the moment he heard her voice, the level of his anxiety
dropped and his breathing eased.

“My dear Noodle, Timmy is here with a
message.  Listen,”  she said.

A male voice said:

“Delay ‘the Noodle.'  He received a
false assignment. Give him the cipher code to receive the cancelation.”

Karma tried to understand:  “A false
assignment?”

“The job you received did not come from
our people.  You have been sent by God knows who, probably to kill someone else,
who it seems was sent on an identical mission to kill you.”

"What, what?"

Pulse pounding in his temples as he
absorb he is probably in the task of a hostile organization. It was also clear
to him that if that so, they will not leave him alive after the execution.

“So, what do you suggest?”

“Continue, don’t change anything for the
present but tell us the plan in brief.”

Karma hesitated.  He wondered how he
could tell if the person he was conversing with was genuine, but then he heard
the three words: “Sun-Moon-Sky” and his magnificent smile spread across his
face.  He forgot or ignored that he was actually in the situation he found
himself in only because he hadn’t heard this code in the message he received
yesterday.

“I am on my way to Georgia to receive a
“Bentley” identical to the one I am driving right now, to plant a bomb in it.”

“Are you in possession of the explosive
device?”

“It seems that I am.  My job is supposed
to be executed on the ship, not on land.”

A moment of silence was followed by a
question,

“Where are you calling from?”

Karma turned to the woman,

“Where are we?”

And she answered right away:

“In Shakallah town,” and Timmy heard her
answer.

“Okay, you will continue westwards to
the Caspian Sea, progressing as planned, but delay your departure till half
past seven and when you leave – ring once and hang up.”

He almost hung up when he heard Timmy
say:

“By the way, I suggest you check the
time the device is set to explode and don’t rely on what they told you.”

When he replaced the receiver, he almost
collided with the woman, who brought him a glass of water on a tray.  He raised
the glass to his lips.  While he drank, he put his hand in his pocket, pulled
out a banknote and placed it on the tray under the glass, without even checking
its denomination.  Only later did her realize that he had left her ten thousand
Rials, which he didn’t regret for one second.

Timmy heard Abigail murmur.

“I’m dying for a good omelet, what about
you?”

"Well, how can one refuse you, only
please, not too much,” he said.  “I’m not a big eater.

When the aromatic omelet was served on
the plate, he heard the beeps of an incoming message and Timmy hurried to
decipher it.

“’The Noodle’ needs
surveillance and cover.  The meeting is in the Adriatic on board the “Ankara”. 
Leave now.”

            Abigail also looked at the
deciphered message.

            “I have to get going,” Timmy
said.

            “Why?” she asked and glanced
at her watch.

            “Okay, take care of yourself
and of my ‘Noodle’.”

            The fragrant aroma of the
omelet on the plate aroused his appetite. He went to the table, where he folded
and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth. He mumbled something unintelligible
that sounded like a complaint about the lack of consideration that didn’t allow
a hungry man to eat his dinner properly.  He set off on his way, chewing and
laughing.

As soon as he got into his car, he
called Karma, who answered immediately.

“Listen, the ship sails at twelve,
midnight and…”

“What?  They told me that it departs precisely
at ten.”

“Good, so you’re getting an update.”

“Yes, I’m listening,”  Karma said anxiously,
knowing that an error of one hour could be fatal.

“Delay your arrival till eleven
fifteen,  and let them blow their fuse.” And he laughed at his double entendre.

“I get it.”

“You will board the ship at exactly
eleven o’clock with a different “Bentley.” Listen carefully.  Its number-plate AS-102
is almost exactly the same as the car you’re sitting in now.”

“Register at “The King’s Hotel” in the
Maestri working class neighborhood for the next two nights, under the name
“Barzani.”  Karma guffawed.

“Once a Kurd, always a Kurd,” he said,
“and where will I change cars?”

“I will make the exchange.  Remember,
there will be a different explosive device in the car I will bring you. It will
exactly like the original plan you received and you will attach it to the underbelly
of the other car, exactly as they told you.”

He reached the hotel at almost noon and
parked the luxury vehicle on the slope of the parking lot.  He got the key to
his room and before going to the room he remembered to check that the
registration number of the vehicle he arrived with was MS-102, a difference of
only the first letter.  Only now, did he understand that he had traveled all
the way there with a bomb, set to explode and kill him at exactly ten o’clock,
the time they had instructed him to board the ship.

He locked the door when he entered his
room and to make breaking in difficult he went to considerable effort to drag
an armchair on a rug and pushed it up against the door. He dashed into the
shower and left the door open then stood under the flowing water for a long
time.

Four hours later another “Bentley”,
driven by Timmy, arrived at the hotel.  He wore a hat, pulled low over his
forehead and he entered the red, terracotta paved yard and stopped close to the
guard.  Timmy presented the pre-agreed identity card and the barrier was
raised. The car slid smoothly down to the parking garage under the building. 
The headlights illuminated long rows of vehicles till they fell on an identical
car.  Tim parked his car that bore the license plate number, AS-102, checked
again that the bomb in the glove compartment was set for a quarter past eleven,
locked it and heard two short beeps.  He hung the keys on the arm of the left
mirror and walked to the other car, with the registration number, MS-102.

Timmy drove it out of the parking garage
and parked close to the opposite sidewalk interleaved among other vehicles
parked under a conifer that was shedding pine needles all over them.  He
lowered the back of the seat and fell asleep within minutes on a the comfortable
upholstery.

And
so it was that at one and the same moment, two drivers were fast asleep in two
separate and identical “Bentleys”, thousands of miles apart in two different
countries.

*
* *

            A
few minutes ago, Abigail decided that she was late enough to confirm she was
pregnant and couldn’t decide whether it ruined her life or made her happy.

            Just
then, Alice called and Abigail answered her distractedly.

            “Hi,
my dear, where are you right now?” she heard.

            “I’m
at home, just waiting for your call,”  Abigail replied and heard Alice giggle
with pleasure.

            “You
see, that’s what I love about you and that’s why I miss you so much,” and she
added in the same breath:

            “And
so, we’re coming to fetch the Öcalan couple in another two days.”

            “Wait,
right now I’m only half the Öcalan couple, because the other half is
touring around the country."

            “Work
or play?”

            “He
told me it was for play.”

            “And
do you accept and agree to that?”

            Abigail
wondered if this wasn’t the right moment to share the news of her pregnancy
with her friend, when she heard Alice saying:

            “I
called you because we are planning to go shopping and sightseeing in Baku and I
thought that…”

“Oh, how wonderful!”  Abigail enthused,
remembering her trip with Ilia to that beautiful city’s markets a few weeks
earlier.

“Have you ever been there, Naima?”

“Yes, but that’s no reason to give up on
another trip there.  On the contrary, it left me with an appetite for more.”

So, it’s a date, Wednesday morning, at
eight, so that we can manage as much as possible.”

“Should I come to you at eight in the
morning?”

“No, of course not!  Stay at home and
wait for our driver to blow his horn.”  She said and as Abigail was about to
hang up she heard:  "Karim is shouting to remind me to send our beauty his
warm regards.”

Just then beeps from the radio
communications device were heard and she went to decipher the coded message.

“Suleiman Lane at 11:00. Explanation of Savior Assignment
procedure to be delivered close to appointed time.”

She glanced at the clock facing her.  It
was almost nine in the morning which meant that she would have to leave in an
hour.

She assumed she would receive
instructions for carrying out the assignment.

Now, she completely forgot her
conversation with Alice and their planned meeting had been pushed to the corner
of her mind.  Even the recent awareness of her of pregnancy was completely ignored
and her thoughts were focused now on checking the whereabouts of Suleiman
Lane.  She recalled a central street called ‘Lane’ that had stores and
commercial buildings.

She parked two streets away and slowly
made her way to it walking among people, as she surveyed the goods displayed in
boxes, whose contents spread out on the sidewalks.

Two men in suits walked along the
street, but then she observed that they were a man and a woman.  The woman was
dressed in a tailored suit and wore a black tie, just like her male partner. They
were followed by a short Chinese woman carrying a straw basket with an infant
inside it. Another couple, behind them, was also accompanied by a Chinese woman
holding a straw basket containing a baby. 

Someone touched her shoulder and she
jumped in fright.  It was a tall man, who signaled her to follow him.  He
blurted out the word “Savior” and followed close on the couples as if bringing
up the rear.

They entered a building and a wooden
door closed behind them.  The place was dimly lit, crowded and looked like a house
of worship.  The tall man stood beside her, his palms pressed together as if he
in prayer.

“Why here?” she hissed and also clasped
her hands like him.

“Because we won’t be bothered here,” he
whispered and added:

“I’m Kamil and you are about to hear
about a radioactive process."

The Chinese women laid down the straw
baskets on the floor and she observed that the babies inside them were actually
dolls.  The two baskets were raised to the rhythm of a song, and Kamil
whispered to her:

            “Listen
to the words because their content explains the process.  They are recorded, so
you will be able to listen to them again.”

Each
time the words, “Our Lord and Savior” were said, she saw how they raised the
baskets with the dolls inside them as if they were a sacrificial offering. The metallic
sounds of a harpsichord emanated from a radio and Abigail presumed that the
device was also recording.

“When our Lord and Savior descends this
Sabbath between the rods –

                                                                            
             Between the rods,

In the area of the fuel and the receptor
material –

                                                    The
receptor material.”

Kamil pointed to the show in front of
her and she closed and opened her eyes to show she understood that this
Saturday she would go to a reactor where a nuclear procedure would occur.

A flame was lit in the center of the
yard and a cart, in which rods were stuck, rolled in and stopped to the rear of
the fire.  Abigail recalled that nuclear fuel was usually arranged in reactors
in the shape of rods and you can control their power and monitor the fission
process that is generated in them and lasts a long time.  She realized she was
receiving a clear illustration of the process.

One of the couples dressed in men’s
tailored suits drew another cart of rods and brought it very close to the
fire.  The woman began singing in a pleasant throaty voice:

“Our Lord lays them out like rods,

                 And the fire – pishpeshash – splits us,”

And immediately after her, the man’s
deep, strong voice responded:

“Our Savior receives our little friends –

                
And he – pssst – will stop and
soothe us.”

Abigail smiled, understanding that “our
little friends” that are received in the additional rods are a name for the
neutrons that slow down the chain reaction of the process and calm it.

She wondered who had written the lyrics
about the phenomena of the reactor that were being sung to a religious song like
this.

“Ho, our Lord, the further we infiltrate
the lines of fire –

         So is our strength determined.

             The more our Lord pushes us, the closer to –“

The song ended and a scream was suddenly
heard:

“Pouff!!”

The fire went out and the melody ended,
as a strong smell of plastic floated in the air.  At that very moment, someone
threw the doll babies on the spot where a moment earlier, the fire had burned
and Abigail screamed and covered her eyes.

Silence fell so suddenly that her ears
hurt and she peeped through her fingers.  The dolls, which had been thrown on
the source of the extinguished fire, twisted and turned into a foul-smelling colored
liquid.  All at once, Abigail felt pity of the doll-babies, perceived by her to
be innocents that were being destroyed and tears welled up in her eyes.

Kamil pressed a small instrument into
her hand and nodded to signify that the event had ended.

Abigail left the building, closed the
large wooden door behind her and heard the jarring sound of its hinges.  The
daylight blinded her.  The lips of a woman facing her moved, as she apparently
spoke to her.  Abigail heard her ask whether she needed help and what had
happened to her.

“Thank you, I suddenly felt unwell but
now, everything is fine.”

She felt so nauseous and dizzy that she
did not object to the woman slipping her arm under her armpit and supporting
her. She led her to an old wooden bench under one of the trees.
When
the woman left, she got up from the bench, leaned her head against the tree and
vomited into the earth around it.

She found herself wondering what purpose
had been served by watching such a ceremony and show.  She didn’t notice the
woman, who had accompanied her, was watching her from a distance.

*
* *