Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again (54 page)

When she opened the driver’s door, she
suddenly remembered the last image she had seen, which remained engraved in her
memory – the sight of Karma, sitting in the luxurious car at the port.

Now she was confused and worried.

Why had they neutralized her and removed
her from the area?  What happened to the bomb that had been placed in the glove
compartment of the car, the one that was supposed to explode at a quarter past
eleven?

*
* *

      
Karim
received a call last night from Barak.

                        “Hello,
my man.  Lucy will land at the Baku airport at six-thirty on Saturday.”

                        “Okay. 
What’s the flight number?  By the way, how are you?”

                        “Everything
is fine, dear fellow.  She will arrive on ‘Pan Mussolini’, Flight 26621. 
Instruct her in preparation for the assignment.”

            “No
problem, it’ll be my pleasure,” he countered. “It will be an unusually enjoyable
task for me.” He could not see Barak frowning when he heard this.

            They
had prepared him for a long time to train her for the reactor assignment.  He
was delighted to have been chosen for the job because it was a golden
opportunity to get closer to Abigail.  He had been suppressing his feelings for
years, ever since he first saw her.  Karim knew that it is possible to marry
more than one wife but, he also knew that Alice, his wife, would not be able to
bear it.  He recalled how jealous he was that Karma had won her heart and
shelved his dream.  That was what he thought the moment he heard the message
but, then, he heard Barak say something.

            “I
asked that you be the person to tell her that Karma is missing.”

            “Missing?!”
he cried out.

            “Yes,
he fell off the ferry into the sea and apparently drowned in his car.”

            “What?!
When?! What does ‘apparently drowned’ mean?”

            “When
they pulled the car out of the water, he wasn’t inside.”

            “Oh,
so it’s possible that the man swam away, disappeared and may one day come to…”

            “I
wish.”         

            They
were silent and Karim could not push away the thoughts that crept into his
mind.  He suppressed the voice in his head that said it was all in Allah’s
hands and thanked him for allowing him the opportunity that had slipped from
his grasp.  Barak continued speaking to him and Karim shook off his thoughts.

            “Karim
Habibi (my friend), she regards you and your wife as close friends.  Please convey
this sad message to her.”

            Karim
mumbled in embarrassment:

            “Yes,
yes of course.
”

            At
six in the morning, Abigail got off the plane at the Baku airport and joined
the long line at the exit. A man, wearing a dark suit stood beside her and
spoke in a familiar voice.

            “At
your service, Madam,” he said and raised his elbow, inviting her to take his
arm. When she recognized Karim, the Ambassador, she smiled with pleasure.

            “A’halan,
(Hello), what are you doing here?”  She asked with a smile and when he said:

            “Welcome
home, Madam Lucy,” she stiffened, really surprised.

            “Where
is Alice?” she asked as she looked around.

            “Remind
me, how long have you been away from home?” he asked with a reticent smile and
his voice was restrained.

            “What
about you?!  I’ve only been away for two weeks.  I haven’t seen the two of you
for ages.”

            Behind
the crowd, she saw Alice waving.  But, she wasn’t smiling. She hadn’t been
aware of the ring on her finger for a long time and it streamed heat into her
hand, indicating her suppressed emotions.

            “Is
everything alright?” she asked and he tried to evade her question.

            “There’s
a café about fifty meters to the right,” he mentioned, signaling to
Alice, and Abigail sensed something was going on.

            A
red cloth was spread on the table and an illuminated sign on the wall spread a
red glow with the name of the place, “Café Urmia.”

            Karim
did not look directly into her eyes as he spoke.

            “I
am not a bearer of good tidings,” and Abigail regarded him calmly but inside
she was seething.

            “Sorry,
my sweet, I received some information about Karma.”

            “Karma,
my husband?”

            “Yes,”
He paused for a second,  “He has disappeared.”

            “Disappeared?”

            “His
car slipped off the ferry,” he continued, but she did not react and Karim
looked at her with concern and then peeked at Alice, his wife.

            “Did
they find his body?” she inquired and Karim shook his head.

            He
blew his nose into a tissue and beckoned to a waitress standing near them to
come.  She took the order and returned in a few minutes bearing a tray with
three empty glasses, a steaming kettle of boiling water and small covered
teapot.  Karim poured the dark concentrate of tea into the glasses and filled
them with boiling water and Abigail asked again:

            “Did
they find him?”

            “No,”
he replied and heard Abigail mutter:

            “Then,
he’s not dead yet,” and she stirred her tea absent-mindedly.

            She raised the hot glass to
her lips and screamed suddenly and dropped it. It shattered and the boiling
liquid splashed all over.  Karim and Alice jumped up in fright, pushed their
chairs back and looked at the steam arising from the broken shards around them.

            Abigail
returned with them but stubbornly refused their invitation to stay with them. 
She wanted to go home, sit down and think things through.

            How
could Karma have dived into the sea in his car and not been able to extricate
himself?

            She
felt quickening in her belly and laid her hand on it, and remembered that Karma
still did not know that he was to become a father at long last.  A bitter smile
crossed her lips.

            At
home, Karim pondered.  He still had hopes of romantic interest developing
between them and wondered whether to go about it indirectly.  He called to
inform her that he would come to her home at ten o’clock and added that a
devastating earthquake had struck Iran.  Possibly, there would be changes in
the date the operation would begin.

            When
he arrived, he looked into her eyes, expecting to see sorrow and pain in them,
but that was not what he found there.

            “I
didn’t have a chance to tell Karma that I am pregnant,” she said and Karim was
silent.

            If
he had hesitated to speak to her before, now he was sure that there was no
point in even hinting at the possibility of deepening their relationship.

            “Does
the operation have a date yet?” she asked.

            “I
have no idea.  I told you that the earthquake would probably change things,” he
reminded her.

            “Do
you know that this is the first time I have no clear idea of what I am going to
do?”

            “In
three words,” he announced. “You’re going to ‘save the world'.”

            She
looked at him and frowned, checking whether he was mocking her but his
expression was serious.

            “Why
did you say that?  Be more specific.”

            “Okay. 
I know you only got back today, but I was asked to begin now, so we have no
choice,” and he was still staring into her eyes, seeking something else.

            “Yes,
I hear.  Why are you staring like that?

            Karim
shook his head. 

            “Okay. 
Let’s go back to the beginning, to something I am sure you know about and I
mean the cooling system of the reactors.”

            Abigail
nodded.

            ‘Yes,
its function is to prevent the heating of the core, so that it doesn’t melt in
the tremendous heat.”

            “I
suppose you are also familiar with the whole process and the nuclear fuel,” and
he stopped talking because he wasn’t sure she was listening to him.

            “Yes,
the nuclear fuel in the reactor is arranged in the form of rods,” she recited
and suddenly began to hum the melody and the words that sounded like the
chanted verses of a prayer.

            Now,
he feared that her tragedy had unbalanced her mind.  It did not occur to him
that what he was telling her reminded her of the ceremony in the street of the
large market in ‘Suleiman Alley.'  She could hear the singing in her head of
the woman, who had held the doll-babies and threw them on the fire.  Abigail
sang:

“Our Lord lays them out like rods,

And
the fire – pishpeshash – splits us.”

“Interesting,” he said and raised his
brow.  “May I continue?”

Her expression proved that she still
wasn’t focused but, he continued speaking.

“Listen, Naima. The fission process is
extremely lengthy and maintains its strength with the help of material in other
rods,” he said and laughed.  “Is there a song for that too?”

“Yes,”
she said, “listen to this.”

“Our Savior receives our little
friends –

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

“I have a suggestion,” he offered, “sing
all the words you know because that chant is phrased a lot better than my
explanations.”

“Really?”

“You just sang that the neutrons control
and regulate the speed.”

“Oh, then wait a minute.”  She sang to
herself and tried to recall all the words.

“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 –

Then – Pouf!“

Karim laughed and tried to join in the
refrain, noticed he was singing out of tune, but wanted to hear the words
again, from the beginning.

“Let me comment on the last part you sang. 
You got a little carried away, because the further the control rods, which
contain the neutrons, penetrate the spaces between the fuel rods – so the
capacity of the reactor will be determined.”

“Ah, and let us suppose that all these
rods are inserted into the spaces?”

“Well, then there will be a stoppage or
the reactor will be extinguished.”

“I understand.  It’s also important to
know what substances are able to absorb the neutrons.”

“Boron and graphite,” he replied, “but,
hey, just a minute, my dear lady, don’t even think of such an idea.  There is
no chance of entering and inserting the neutron rods to extinguish the
reactor.  Each reactor has special protection for its core.”

“What protection?”

“It is surrounded by a layer of lead and
a thick layer of concrete.”

“Well, yes, I didn’t think you could
enter through a door that can be unlocked with a key,” she laughed. Her smile
revealed her snow white teeth, and Karim stared at her, mesmerized.
 
She noticed it and stopped laughing at once.

“What’s the matter?  What are you
staring at like that and what are you thinking about now?”

Karim took a deep breath to cool his
thoughts, conscious of the importance of his current job.

“Naima, their extensive protection is
actually intended to secure the core from natural disasters, attacks or
explosions, not from intrusions by people.  I’m sure you realize that if such
an attack to impermeability of the core occurs, it may release fuel substances
and disperse radioactive material in the environment.”

“Hmm, now that makes the name of this
operation entirely clear,” she stated. “Did you know that it is called “Water?”

“Yes, of course, and that’s logical
because the cooling liquid here is the hero that participates in the process. 
The whole story depends on water.”

When he left, he reminded her to come in
the evening to the “Sondor” Hotel, to continue their meeting on the subject. 
He was pleased that he had succeeded in restraining himself and didn’t get
drawn into a conversation on his heart matters.

At home, Abigail listened to the radio
and heard stories of survivors and reports of the earthquake damage.  The
newscaster named the bridges that had been made inaccessible and she listed
them on a piece of paper.  The epicenter of the quake was reported to be along
the border with Iraq, in the narrow strips along the coast of the Persian Gulf
and the Gulf of Oman, and this caused her concern.  She knew that she had to
reach the shores of the Caspian Sea, which she heard, had shifting sands and unyielding
waves that beat down on them.

She slept for two hours till evening and
went into the town as the sun began to set.  She hailed a cab and asked to be
taken to the “Sondor” Hotel.  When the taxi drew up opposite the dismal
building, she looked out of the window at the building again and thought that
she would never have imagined it was a hotel.