Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again (32 page)

The telephone rang early in the morning
and Abigail heard Michael’s voice:

“One
o’clock, in the green building on Karon Lane.  I will be waiting in the lobby.”

Karon Lane was a long way from where she
was and, as hard as she tried, she could not recall a green building.  She
decided that if he said he would wait for her in a lobby that was a sign he was
referring to a hotel.

At six o’clock in the morning, she had
already set out to wait at the light rail station. She traveled in the car to
the last station and at noon she disembarked and quickly made her way to Karon
Lane, a street she was familiar with.  She searched for a ‘green building’ but,
all she could see was a structure with green corners and presumed it got its
name from them.

Abigail pushed open the big antiquated
wooden door and heard a bell ringing at the entrance.  She sensed the coolness
and blessed chill of the building and stared at it.  Everything seemed old and shabby,
but the weighty and splendid chandeliers that hung down from the high ceiling
brightly illuminated the lobby.  It reminded her of the saying, “a gold ring in
a pig’s nose”, that really suited the place.  The curved reception desk was
reminiscent of the one at the ‘Chai Huneh’ pension and she wondered if there
was any connection between the two.

She saw Michael right away.  He was
sitting in the middle of the lobby and two empty glasses and a bottle filled
with a yellow liquid stood on his table.  She was so thirsty that she was
unable to restrain herself and reached the table with three strides.  She
immediately pointed to bottle and spoke:

“A’halan, is that lemonade?”

Even before receiving a response, she
poured a glass full, gulped the liquid down thirstily and immediately coughed. 
Her face contorted and she wiped her lips in disgust.  The taste was shocking
and it tasted as though she had just drunk vinegar or the juice of thousands of
lemons.

Michael roared with laughter when he
said:

“Hey, what was the rush?  That bottle
contains concentrated syrup you’re supposed to add water to.”

When he saw she was still choking, he
signaled his order for water and Abigail apologized, explaining that it
happened because it was a fiery hot day.

“Only today?”  Michael exclaimed, “Well,
soon you will get even hotter when you hear of the honor that has befallen
you.”

She stared at him without curiosity,
refilled the glass of water and poured it down her throat.

“They are sending the ship
“El Cabo”
with someone from the Iranian reactor.”  

Initially,
she inquired
without showing particular interest.

“What cargo is it carrying?”

“Thirty hot pieces intended for the
Middle East and that includes twenty-five launchers.”

“What’s the route and what type are
they?”   She spoke, again poured a glass of water and drank it.

“It’s not on a direct route and the type
should make no difference to you, Ma’am,” he said.

“Well it does, and how
!
”
she replied.  “What about the sense of satisfaction?  Have you forgotten about
that?”

“Good, so if I tell you that they are
the latest “Shihab 3” and are bound for the Syrian port of Latakia, will that
help and satisfy you?” he inquired.  “The route is fascinating.  They are
planning a detour round the Cape of Good Hope and through the Suez Canal in
Egypt.”

“You don’t say! That’s a really long way
round and quite illogical.”

“Correct,
and it’s just to avoid meeting up with the American warships regularly
patrolling the Persian Gulf.  They behave like a Turkish Maharajah (Landlord)
and they never leave the area.”

“I get it.  Is this a solo assignment? 
Will I be on my own?”

“Not this time, you’re getting someone
unique, a person who is part of the scenery here and will provide you with a natural
cover on this assignment.”  He ignored her stare.

“Don’t look now in the direction I will
tell you because the man sitting behind the desk will join you soon.  Our name
for him is “Hodgkin” but he is known everywhere as “Abu-Zaken” (Beard-face).

Abigail glanced briefly at the man and
understood why he had his nickname.  His face was covered with gingery red
curls.  When she looked at him again, she noticed that the all the hair on his
head was black.  She raised her brows and made a sign of a question and was
answered in two words:

“It’s natural.”

“When will it take place ?”

Michael sat with his back to the
entrance so that he could speak freely.

“You will take care of the ship that is
anchored in the nearby harbor and the assignment will be executed long before
it reaches that port.”

“Why here, of all places?”

“Because, here the equipment is being
sorted and divided for shipment.”

“Tell me a little about that “Abu-Zaken.”

“Ah, first of all, he’s a professional.

“And what is more, he is also a talented
swimmer and an expert diver.”

While Michael was speaking, Abigail
peeked at the bearded man and a minute after she turned to Michael she saw him
standing beside them and jumped in fright.  Hodgkin bowed formally and placed a
menu on their table.  He put on a professional smile and ran his fingers
through his interesting beard.  Abigail opened the menu and discovered a note
inside, written in blue letters as if it had been carbon copied:

“The chicken will be
cooked at five today.”

Without moving her hand from the menu,
Abigail grasped the note and crumpled it into a ball with her fingers.  When
she almost decided to put it into her mouth to chew it and make it disappear.
Michael rested his hand on her arm.  He made a sign that everything was in
order.  What Abigail did not know was that the words, which were written ink
diluted with alcohol, would disappear in a few minutes once it evaporated and
leave the page blank.

She glanced at the clock on the wall
facing her.  It was 3:45 and she thought there was more than an hour till the
meeting and Hodgkin kept them occupied for the interim.  He sent platters full
of excellent cuisine to their table with a waiter in a tuxedo, who very
theatrically offered them a bottle of wine.  Abigail pouted her lips in
appreciation and gave him a thumbs-up to express her admiration.  When the
waiter left, she whispered to Michael:

Hey, isn’t it strange that they serve
wine here?”

Michael looked around and saw that wine was
also being poured into glasses at other tables.

At precisely five o’clock, Hodgkin stood
at the door and nodded his head in the direction of the street.  Michael
whispered to Abigail:

“You’re going out on a recce (preliminary
investigation) to prepare for the attack.’

The way to the port was shorter than she
estimated and after walking at an average pace for approximately twenty
minutes, they reached the docks.

Hodgkin was familiar to the people, who
milled around in the harbor.  They approached them and chatted with him,
leaving Abigail free to survey the area.  She looked at the freighters anchored
in the polluted sea and tied to the quay with long ropes, immersed in the
water.

“Look at the amazing
ships!”  He exclaimed and Abigail turned her gaze to the vessel he pointed to. 
She understood that he was referring to it and she looked it over carefully and
read its name, which was painted in bold letters.

EL  CABO

           
Abigail
memorized the ship so that she would be able to recognize it in the dark, when
the time came for the assignment.

            “What
is our cover?” she asked quietly.

            “If
we bump into strangers, we’ll imbibe some of this,” the bearded man said raising
an almost empty bottle of wine, he pulled out of a pocket in the lining of his
jacket.

            “I
made a note of the wine you prefer,” he joked.  “Take one like this with you
and if necessary, we can pretend to be drunk.”

            “We
can also arrange a dress rehearsal before the premiere,” she laughed, “I mean,
even if the show does not open.”

            Dry
leaves fluttered in the sea breeze, cracking under their feet as they wandered
around and peered at different corners.  Hodgkin signaled to her that they
should return and ten minutes later, darkness descended on everything. 

When they entered the lobby, Abigail
noticed that Michael had left. Hodgkin waved to Abigail and entered the room
behind the reception desk, and Abigail followed him.

            “The
lady is prepared for action,” he declared and Abigail understood that this
referred to their explosive device.  She wanted to know about the freight on the
ship they were preparing to destroy, but decided to keep quiet if Hodgkin didn’t
volunteer the information.

            The
bell rang, indicating that someone had entered the lobby and Hodgkin went out
to greet him.

            Abigail
came out into the foyer and sat at a table.

            For
no apparent reason, she recalled a particular argument with Karma.

            It
happened when he returned after three days absence, without taking leave of her
or saying a word.  When he returned, she was so angry, she didn’t even get up
to welcome him.  He looked at her and said:

            “Hello
to you, too.”

            But
she just carried on with what she was doing, with no expression on her face, as
if she hadn’t heard him.

            “Is
this the way to welcome home a loving husband?  Hey, what happened?”

            “Nothing. 
You took off, disappeared without a word.  How do you expect me to welcome
you?”

            “I
don’t believe this! Such words from you, of all people?  You also went away and
disappeared like that, didn’t you?!”

            “Ah,
so you’re taking revenge.  Lovely, I hope you’re satisfied now.”

            She
had expected him to embrace her, perhaps even apologize and soothe her, but
that wasn’t at all what happened.  Instead, he growled:

            “I
don’t think you apologized when you did the same thing.”

            He
wondered how strange she was that day.  He was convinced she was different from
other women, knowing that her work was similar to his, and this filled his
heart with heart with pride.

            Afterward,
they didn’t exchange a word between them for hours and when she had calmed down
somewhat, she stole a few glances at him but saw the angry expression on his
face.  She entered his room in the evening, tried to make amends with him and
would not leave off until she saw a shadow of a smile light on his lips.  She attempted
to appease him because she knew she would be going out on an extraordinary
mission that night and, this time she took leave of him with just two words.

“I’m leaving,” she
announced.

Hodgkin whistled and beckoned to her to
return to the room behind the reception desk.  She saw two small backpacks on
the bed and nearby, lay two piles of dark clothes.  He picked up one set of
clothes and left the room. Abigail opened one of the bags and peeped inside.  She
found it contained a change of clothes, diving goggles, a dark-colored roll of
rope attached to a catching hook and a striped towel, which was also dark. She
fidgeted in the bottom of the bag for the bomb they were to plant on the “El Cabo”,
and when Hodgkin returned, she asked him:

“Where is ‘the Lady’?”

“Check it out, she’s in your kitbag.”

            She
rummaged around in her bag again and her fingers touched a sealed plastic jar. 
Hodgkin explained how ‘the Lady’ had a powerful adhesive to stick it to the
underside of the Queen and Abigail understood that the ‘Queen’ referred to the
ship, of course.

            “When
is the ‘Queen’ due to set sail.”

            “Today
at 1:30 am.”

            “Okay,
that leaves us more than four hours,” and she went out into the lobby.

            Through
the large windows, they saw people strolling down the street and when the bell rang
at the entrance, a couple, a man, and a woman came inside.  Abigail was reading
a newspaper meanwhile and glanced in the direction of the three of them from
time to time.  She wondered about the couple that had just arrived and was sure
that they had some particular role to play in the system. Her guess was that
they would be filling in for Hodgkin in the restaurant and the reception desk
in his absence.

A while later, her glance and Hodgkin’s
met.  He nodded to her, signaling that it was time to leave.

This time, he led her along a different,
less illuminated, route and after a few minutes’ walk in silence, she smelled
the salt water and saw the twinkling lights on board the ships.