Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again (40 page)

“Yes, of course, they left the car
behind the stable and I have no difficulty driving it.”

“Wow, that’s unbelievable!” Abigail
exclaimed as she immediately thought that this was the car that had been left
for them and decided to check that the vehicle was in order.

“Wonderful, good for you!  Can you take
me for a ride?”

The young woman was thrilled and started
out of the kitchen, twirling the keys of the car on her finger like an expert
and proudly invited Abigail to join her outside. 

Before they left, Fatima hissed in the
young woman’s direction:

“Salima, does Abu Bachar know?”

Instead of answering, Salima called out
loud:

“Join us, Fatima, come let’s take a ride
around the area.”

Fatima laughed joylessly, straightened
her hijab on her head and joined them.  It was clear that she was under
duress.  The three of them went down the wooden steps to the sand.

Square bales of straw were arranged in
piles like the squares on a chessboard and the bedraggled dog came along and
joined them. He wagged his tail, as he accompanied them to the car that was
parked in the field.
  It’s “Land-Rover” logo sparkled and reflected
the sunlight. Abigail was not surprised that the car was clean and polished. 
She wondered if it had only just arrived.

Salima clicked the key to open the door
and got into the driver’s seat, waving her hand to invite the two women to get
in, too.  Abigail motioned to Fatima to get into the passenger seat beside
Salima and she got into the back seat.

When Salima, inserted the key in the
ignition, Abigail decided to challenge her to extricate more information from
her.

“I understand this is your first time
driving such a car.”

“Of course not, who do you think brought
it here?” she replied proudly.

“Is that so?  Where did you bring it
from?”

“From Oman, near the Persian Gulf, and,
believe me, they trust me.  I drove it all the way here.”

She turned around to Abigail in the
back,

“Say, are you frightened?!”

“Yes, a little,” Abigail said, “Salima,
take Fatima for a run and then come back for me.  I’ll feel calmer about riding
with you, what do you think, eh?”!

“No problem, you can get out here, but stay
right here.”

Abigail got out of the car and stepped
back and waved to say she was fine.

The car accelerated with an exaggerated roar,
the wheels burrowed into the dry sand and sprayed clumps of dust behind as it
jerked forward.  Salima waved out of the window and yelled loudly:

“We’ll be right back!”  With a mighty
roar of the engine, the car drove into the open field, raising white smoke
behind it.

Salima took control of the vehicle and
drove well.  Abigail watched them raptly.  After a hundred meters or more, the
car swerved to the left to turn back. Before it completed the turn, it rose up
in the air, overturned and rolled in the sand, its metal parts flying around. 
A thunderous explosion tore the air and Abigail covered her ears and screamed.

She ran back to the house at once,
entered through the back to the kitchen and leaned over the bucket of water. 
She wet her hands and washed her face, shaking all over.  Just then, Abu Bachar
burst into the kitchen followed by his son and Karma.

“What happened?! Where’s Fatima, where’s
Salima?!” He roared, and Abigail pointed to the entrance to the kitchen and
screamed that they went out there.

“Went out? Where did they go?”

Abigail shrugged.  “They came out to the
car, that’s what they said.”

“Why?!” he snarled and Abigail recoiled,
frightened by his anger and shrugged her shoulders again. Abu Bachar struck the
back of his son’s neck and bellowed uncontrollably:

Y’allah, go there instead of standing
here like an idiot?!”

The youngster ran out, followed by his
father and Karma stared at Abigail.  She nodded and explained quietly:

“That’s life.  I had to decide, the two
of them or both of us.  I was just checking.”

She saw how the muscles in his jaw
quivered nervously and added softly:

“Nothing here is real.”

“I’ve already caught on, come let’s get
away.” She heard him say:  “As we agreed – don’t ever shut up. Carry on being
yourself.”

“Karma, we’re in danger.  We have to get
out of here really quickly.” She insisted. “Is someone pursuing you, perhaps?”

He pulled her by the hand and led her
outside and Abigail slowed down.

“Karma, I am leaving this country.  If
you wish – come with me.” Karma frowned.  “We’ve been lucky so far but, in the
end, there’s a chance they’ll succeed.  How long can we outwit them all?”

He sighed and she could barely hear his
response: 

“Yes, I’ll leave the country with you,
but where will we go?”

She paused momentarily, then continued
as they walked.

“I’m going to my house.”

Karma grabbed her arm,

“Your house? Where do you have a house?”

“In Azerbaijan.  In Shemakha, I don’t
remember the exact address.”

“Oh. How many more surprises have you
got in store for me?” He wondered and gestured to her to take the lead.

“After you, my translucent Lucy.”

At almost five in the morning,  after a
long and exhausting walk, followed by a bus ride, the light rail and a taxi, they
reached the northern district of Iran, which was the border that separated it
from Azerbaijan.

Even at this early hour, the heat was
already unbearable and Abigail wiped her sweaty brow with her sleeve.  For the
past two hours, she had been able to doze on the back seat of the taxi they
were traveling in.  Now her eyes burned and her whole body was begging for
sleep.

Are your documents in order?” Karma
whispered.  He sounded tense and Abigail touched his arm.

“Of course, what about yours?”

“Yes, hush, be quiet.  We’ve reached the
border check post.”

A line of people that stretched for dozens
of yards stood below a giant asbestos canopy, in silence and waited patiently
for their papers to be inspected.  Abigail adjusted the hijab on her head,
pulling the veil across her face. She stayed close to Karma’s back and moved
ahead slowly behind him.

An infant cried in the arms of a woman
beside her and a toddler shuffled at her feet, grabbed at her clothes and
looked around with frightened eyes.  Abigail bent down and picked him up in her
arms. After glancing at the mother, she received confirmation from her that appeared
to be a soundless “Thank you”.  She gestured with her hands and it turned out
later that the woman was dumb.  In the minutes that followed, she helped with
the small children and won the appreciation of the woman’s husband, Bassam. He
stared at her askance and the short beard that covered his face made him appear
threatening.

“Where are you from?” he asked, “and
where are you going?”

“We’re both tour guides and we are
returning to Azerbaijan,” Karma replied and threw Abigail a quick glance.

“Really?  How nice, we’re also from
there. Where, exactly, do you live?” Abigail rushed to reply immediately.  She
suddenly remembered that they had forgotten to coordinate the small details
like the region and the address where they were going to live.

“We got married two days ago in Gachin
in Iran and we’re on our way home, to our town – Shemakha, in the Caucuses, of
course.”

“Is that so?  So you’re newlyweds?”  The
man exclaimed and Karma groaned and looked at Abigail, hinting in the direction
of a young man, who stood a short distance from them in the line and stared at
them curiously. The man was particularly well-built, wore civilian clothes and
the butt of a rifle was pointed upward. He scanned the people with a deadly
serious expression and Abigail’s heart skipped a beat.  She drew Karma’s
attention to two more people, who stood a little distance from them, who
weren’t armed, but Abigail had no doubt that their weapons were within easy
reach.

The infant had fallen asleep in her arms
and the sight of him aroused buried feelings in Abigail.  Arlene, her daughter,
whom she had left in the Ka’abiah encampment in the Israeli Negev and who was
now already six or seven years old.  Tears welled up in her eyes and she
quickly wiped them away.

“What’s the matter?” asked Karma when he
saw her sniffing and dabbing her eyes.

“Nothing, everything is fine.” She
hurriedly answered and forced herself to spread her lips in a smile.

“Are you certain?”

“Aha,” she replied.

The line in front of her split into
separate lines of men and women and she remembered that Karma did not know the
details of the address of her house.  She signaled him and waved her papers,
containing the address they were going to and saw him frown as he attempted to
understand her message.  When it was her turn, she faced a woman, sitting
behind a thick glass partition whose voice was made audible by a loudspeaker.

“Your visa, please.” The woman demanded
and Abigail pushed her papers through a gap under the partition and heard the
clerk ask:

“Is that your child?”

“Oh, no, he belongs to her,” she pointed
to the woman standing behind the line marked on the floor, waiting her turn.

“He fell asleep in my arms while she…”

“Your address,” she heard the question.

“22 Azar Street, Shemakha,” she replied.

“Where have you been?”

Here, Abigail stretched her ability to
think quickly because it was important to consider the possibility of Karma
giving the same answer and she replied at once:

“Stary Smokovec in Iran.”

The woman behind the glass looked at the
tiny photograph and then at Abigail.  In spite of knowing that this was the way
everyone was treated, she felt pressured.  When she heard the sound of the
stamping of her visa, she almost burst out laughing with relief but her hand
trembled as she grasped the stamped visa.

An hour later they were sitting in the
coach of the train to Shemakha.  They knew they had at least another four and a
half hours travel ahead of them and as the rocking of the carriage began,
Abigail eyes closed and her head dropped forward.  Karma eased her seat back
and she smiled in appreciation as she settled back.  He also closed his eyes,
to take advantage of the long journey and rest.  When the train stopped with a drawn-out
screech of brakes, Abigail woke up and looked at the doors opening and the
rowdy throngs of passengers alighting and disembarking.

A mother and daughter entered their
coach and sat on a seat facing them that had been vacated and Abigail dozed off
again.  She closed her eyes peacefully and didn’t notice them staring at her.

“Mother, see her ring,” the girl
whispered and her mother nodded and put a finger to her lips to hush her.

She had also noticed the sparkling pale
green transparent stone and planned to remove it from the sleeping woman’s
finger.  But she would wait until the last moment before the two were to
disembark and disappear with the booty.

Abigail sensed them staring and opened
her eyes, but the two sat across from her with their eyes closed and she
straightened up and peered through the murky window. A giant pipe ran parallel
to the train and made them feel they were traveling backward and she followed
it for a distance of many kilometers until she closed her eyes and fell asleep
again.

They reached the station where the woman
was supposed to get off the train. She pressed the elbow of her daughter, who
got up quietly and, trying not to wake the sleeping woman, she touched
Abigail’s hand.
  She opened eyes without changing her
position and saw that the girl was standing close to her and touched her hand. 
Abigail laughed, understanding that the child was excited by the sparkling
jewel on her finger and dozed off again.  A few minutes later, the woman
pressed against her legs and brushed up against her dress.  Abigail understood
their intention and folded her hands and stared at them.

The woman sat down again and decided to
try a different tactic.  She clicked her tongue in admiration and spoke to
Abigail.

“What a beautiful ring.  How much do you
want for it?” 

Abigail smiled without answering, but
the woman added:

“I’m not joking, how much money do you
want for it?”

Abigail shook her head in refusal. She
went back to looking through the dirty window, signaling that as far as she was
concerned the matter was closed and she went back to studying the pipeline
running parallel to the train.
  She knew it was the main oil
pipeline that was many kilometers long and that earned this country a handsome
profit.

“Next stop, Shemakha,” was announced.

The carriages stopped and the doors
opened wide and right then, the woman bent down and pulled the ring off
Abigail’s finger and ran out into the crowded mass of people pouring onto the
platform. Apparently the girl had gotten off ahead of her as part of their plan.
Abigail quickly rose from her seat, pushed people as she pressed through the
vast crowds, searching around but the woman had disappeared.