Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again (59 page)

            “Tell
me, do you know Salamas?”

            “No,”
she replied innocently, “Who is he? Is he someone I should meet?”

            “Oh,
I just wondered, because he told me that he drove with you, but I can imagine
that…”

            “With
me?!”

            “Yes,
He remembers you, tall with light-colored eyes,” and almost added ‘and kills
people with her bare hands.'

            Abigail
felt a burning sensation running down her ring finger and recoiled because she
understood that the stone had identified considerable force.  Also, without the
ring, it was clear to her that she was walking a tightrope now. It was possible
that the man already understood who she was and had received information about
her.

            “Wait,
aren’t there other women with light-colored eyes?”  She posed.  “By the way,
you have a beautiful tattoo on your hand.”

            “Do
you mean this tattoo on my forearm?” The snake?”

            “No,
actually, I was referring to the star, here on your hand.”

            She
drew closer to him, on purpose, and watched his hand.  She noticed how it entered
his pocket, but now she was even closer to him.

            “If
you get out your hand I’ll show you what I mean,” she told him.

            She
pulled his hand and it came out of his pocket, with his fingers wrapped around
a revolver aimed at her.  Abigail didn’t hesitate for a second, and exactly as
Khalil, her Krav Maga coach had taught her, she grabbed the gun with both hands
and pulled it to her, in the direction of the floor.  Ian fell flat on the
deck, the gun dropped out of his fingers and Abigail kicked the dark weapon up
in the air and watched it go overboard and fall far away in the sea.

            A
member of the crew came from behind them to take docking orders from his
captain.  He saw Ian stretched out on the deck and caught on to what was going
on.  He yelled, pulled out a knife and ran towards her.  Abigail remained
standing beside Ian and only at the very second the crew member reached her,
she veered to the side and he tripped up on Ian, fell on him and the unsheathed
knife penetrated his back.

            A
deep groan burst out of Ian and the crew member screamed on top of his voice,
calling out the names of his mates.  Three of them came up on deck, stood for a
second and then ran in her direction.  Abigail realized that there was no point
in taking them all on, especially when even more people appeared.  It was time
to give up.  Without much thought, she got up on the railing and jumped into
the water, supporting the knapsack that was always on her shoulder with her
right hand.

            She
heard two shots from behind her then took a breath and plunged into the water,
twisting between the rocks and thankful to God that they were there.  When she
was compelled by pressure in her lungs, she clung to one of the rocks and rose
to the surface.  She was hidden from the boat, breathed out the rest of the air
with a groan and took another breath.

            Dry
land was very close now and Abigail went below the surface again, swam
underwater to the beach and noticed that the rocks were disappearing and the
shadow of the seabed was drawing closer.  She completed the last ten meters on
foot and crouching low as she hurried to the beach.  The moment she felt dry
land under her feet she ran for shelter in a ruined building and sank down on
the sand, panting loudly.

            Here,
behind the protection of the ruined wall, Abigail began to get organized.  She
took off her wet clothes, put on a dry galabiya and folded away her wet clothes
into her bag.  She always took care to remove and hide traces of her presence. 
When she curled up in a corner and listened to the roar of the waves, she felt
the quickening of the child in her womb and smiled.

            Abigail
was already in the middle of her fourth month of pregnancy, and according to
her calculation, she was due to give birth to Karma’s child in the summer, in
less than five months.  She snuggled up, wrapped herself in both arms and
wondered out loud as if she were talking to Karma.

            “Where
are you?  When will you come?” She avoided considering any other possibility
and laughed to herself,

            “Who
will come first, the father or his child?”

            She
heard a great noise above her and when she looked up through the broken down
roof, she saw a helicopter spinning in the air.  It quickly lost altitude but
succeeded in landing on the sand, dragged along the beach in which it plowed
deep furrows.  The propellers on its rotor spun wildly, churned up the water
and created currents that rose up for a considerable distance.  The helicopter
continued surfing another twenty or thirty yards into the water and then went
silent.  The waves beat up against it, went around it and it rocked gently.

            A
door opened and a figure of a man dropped down slowly, waded in the seawater
and sank onto the sand, his face bathing in the seawater.  The waves washed his
body and began to retreat.  Two soldiers jumped out of the helicopter, raised
their Kalashnikov rifles up high and ran towards the man, lying on the sand.

            At
first Abigail also wanted to run to the person, who had fallen. She froze when
she saw the uniforms and the rifles and decided not to intervene for the
present, a decision which left her alive.

            Apparently,
after the event on the Azari ship ‘Urmia’ and the death of Ian, its Captain,
the crew of the ship called in the Coast Guard to report the incident.

            The
crew of the vessel excitedly described the woman who jumped off the boat and
swam ashore and the guards crosschecked this information with the message sent
by Ian an hour earlier about a female of similar description. The matter was
referred to the political and military echelons, which set up a team within an
hour that included a military investigator and a doctor.  They went by helicopter
to the ‘Naka’ beach to collect first-hand evidence, interrogate the crew of the
ship and examine the circumstances surrounding the death of its captain.

            Radio
signals and communication beeps emanated from the helicopter and someone
responded to them in a loud voice.  Abigail decided to get away now because she
feared the arrival of backup that would arrive to support the helicopter that
had made a forced landing on the shore.  She stealthily left the ruin and
climbed the little sand dunes to the coastal road.

            Just
then a bus full of passengers left the bus station and Abigail stepped out onto
the road and stood in its path and signaled to stop it. The driver noticed her
at the last moment and swerved to avoid her and blew his horn.  He stared at
her in amazement in his rear view mirror because he had never seen a woman
trying to catch a bus this way and he almost drove on without her.  But,
because it was such a rare sight, he decided to stop.  The woman hurried up to
him and he opened the door. When she climbed the three steps, panting and
smiling, and handed him a banknote, he saw her face and was impressed with her
rare beauty.

            “Where
to, Madam?” and he almost added that it had been worth stopping for her.

            “Can
I go as far as the railway station at Bushehr?” she inquired. When he put out
his hand to take the money from her, he squeezed her fingers, noticed her blush
and lower her gaze. She mumbled softly:

            “Thank
you” and pulled her arm away angrily.  Abigail wondered whether to react or
keep silent, but she didn’t want to attract attention and melded with the
passengers, feeling safe among the people around her.

            The
bus arrived at the railway station and it was also its last stop.  Abigail got
off the bus ignored the driver’s eyes and hurried away from the place.

*
* *

            The
rays of the setting sun had not yet disappeared entirely, but the streetlights
had already turned on and the muezzin called the faithful to prayer, as he
warbled verses from the Quran.

            At
this hour, the motorcar traffic was busy on the roads and she thought about
stopping one of them.  She had to reach the north-eastern section of Bushehr,
to the sea, sand and unpopulated bare hills.  She hesitated because she knew
there was no chance someone would agree to drive to the distant reactors.

            A
cart hooked up to a pair of horses passed her, moving painfully slowly.  Its
wheels trudged through puddles of sewage and splashed sludge around making her
jump back to avoid it.  The cart driver sang on top of his voice and Abigail
followed the pair of horses and thought that they could offer her
transportation to that area which apparently was not accessible by road.  Right
away, she yelled in the cart driver’s direction:

            “Hi
ho!”

            To
her surprise, he pulled the reins and turned around to her.

            “Sir,
would it be possible to get a lift with you to that sandy region, over there?” She
pointed in an easterly direction, avoiding mentioning the name of the
destination she sought, and he shouted back to her:

            “To
the region of the reactors?”

            Abigail
nodded and heard him say:

            “Come,
climb on!”

            She
hopped up and sat on the seat beside him, took hold of the wooden bar that
protruded from it and straightened the ragged carpet on the bench.  Right away,
she pulled a bill out of her sleeve and passed it to the man.  He nodded in
gratitude and urged the horses to go faster, as he smiled broadly with
satisfaction.  Abigail noticed his expression but interpreted it as
satisfaction with the payment.

            It
didn’t occur to her at all that he was another one of the shadow people, who
had been sent as part of the assistance the organization had decided to give
her.

            It
was almost nightfall.  The cart driver stretched out to the back, picked up a
cloth bag and placed it on his knees.  He pulled a brown loaf of bread and
circles of hard cheese out of it and invited her to share his meal.

            “My
name is Akhbar, Ali Akhbar.  Will you eat with me?” He asked and without
waiting for an answer, he tore a chunk of bread from the loaf.  Its aroma made
Abigail swallow her saliva noisily.  She took the food from him and chewed with
obvious hunger and Ali Akhbar laughed with pleasure.

            “You’re
hungry, ha?” he said, stretched his arm back again and caught a piece of fruit
that rolled in the cart behind him and offered it to Abigail.  She grasped it
in her other hand and bit alternately into the bread and the fruit.  She wiped
the juice off her lips with her sleeve.  Only now, did she notice the driver
staring at her intently.

            “Ah,
I’m on my way back to work,” she said, with her mouth full.

            “My
husband works there and he got me a cleaning job.”

            “I
see,” he said, and slowly chewed on the piece of bread in his mouth.

            The
sun had not completely disappeared and the cart rolled along a deep ravine. Looking
down from her high seat, she saw that the riverbed was dry.

            “Perhaps
next winter, with the help of Allah, the water will flow there again,” Akhbar
voiced his wish, and she laughed.

            “What
a pity, I was planning to go down there to drink.”

            “Are
you thirsty?” he asked, passing the reins to her, he jumped off and climbed on
the cart.  He bent over to rummage among the packages and possessions, while
the horses continued their easy canter, rocking the seat she sat on.  He
brought a bottle of murky liquid that made her recoil and laughed as he said.

            “It’s
good.  This water contains juice squeezed from lemons I picked off the tree in
our yard.”

            One
of the horses whinnied and they continued their smooth canter.  Abigail took
the bottle from Akhbar and she drank its contents thirstily.  When she returned
the bottle to him, she shivered:

            “Brrr…,
it’s sour” and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

            Darkness
was all around and, with it, the chill increased.  Ali Akhbar pulled a thin
woolen blanket from the cart and laid it on Abigail’s shoulders.  Then he lit a
lantern hanging on a wooden post beside his seat, and it projected a circle of
light that swung over the sandy road.  Tiny mosquitos were drawn to the light
and chased them, humming softly.

            She
didn’t know how long they had been riding when in the distance the shadows of
domed buildings appeared and lights twinkled between them.

            He
announced:  “We have arrived.”

When
they stopped, she proffered him another bill but he shook his head and refused
to take it.  When she said:

            “It’s
to thank you for the food and the water,” he took the money from her.

            Right
after that he raised his hand and touched his head to take leave of her,
shouted,

“Bye” and clicked his tongue to his
horses.

Abigail stared after the cart as it
moved away and suddenly wanted him to fetch her.  She yelled to him in a loud
voice and Ali Akhbar pulled the reins to stop the pair of horses, then stood up
in the cart.

“I asked if you could come here tomorrow
morning!” she called out to him.

“What did you say?” he yelled.  “Do you
want me to come back here again tomorrow morning?!

She nodded and waved to him. Then he
turned his back on her and went on his way.

            She stood like that in the
dark, listening to the pounding of the horses’ hooves on the hard ground and did
not move until they faded in the distance.  Only then, did she turn her face to
the shadows of the enormous structures that darkened in the distance.

It was much colder, so much so that
Abigail stamped her feet with every stride she took when suddenly, the earth
shook beneath her feet and she got a fright.  At first she thought that the
movement of the tremor in her muscles was caused by her stamping, but then the
earth shook once more and she fell.  Sand filled her mouth and she spat and
wiped her lips with her sleeve. The earth moved yet again and her head began to
spin.

            Far
away, the lights illuminated the distant reactor buildings but their strength
surged and fell all the time, as they went out and came back on.        
Abigail surmised that they were having power stoppages and watched, expecting
the electricity to return and stabilize.  She knew that in such circumstances,
emergency generators would be activated.

            Abigail
got up and continued walking and when she estimated she was about two hundred
yards from the wall surrounding the buildings, she stood still for a moment to
sense if the earth was steady.  When she could almost touch the wall, she heard
a thud and realized that sections of the wall were falling down.

            A
threatening creak was heard overhead and she noticed a tall gate begin to move
and she stopped. She tried to guess which way it would fall when the ground
rocked beneath her again and she kneeled down on it. Abigail looked up and felt
as if the stars were changing their distance and threatened to fall, and she
was overcome with helplessness.  The lights flickered incessantly and, evidently,
the power supply to the buildings was completely disrupted.

            Abigail
took her backpack off and laid it on the ground.  She pulled out two tiny
boxes, removed earphones from one of them and pushed them into her ears.  She
dipped her finger into the second box and smeared its contents on her neck,
face and hands, taking care not to leave any part of her skin unprotected. She
felt her skin go cold wherever she had applied the cream.  When she finished,
she looked up at the massive structures before her.

            This
nuclear power plant was divided into six reactors and they produced power using
a steam turbine.  Now, with power stoppages, she expected they would transfer
to generators. Since the stoppages continued, she imagined that they would have
to completely stop the reactors to ensure they would not overheat and boil
over.

            All
at once, sparks flew, explosions were heard and the place went completely dark.
She heard the noise of walls collapsing around her, people yelling and she
panicked. She could not absorb what was happening and she didn’t know where to
turn or where the trouble was coming from so she lay down where she stood and didn’t
get up.

            She
lay like that for a time and when her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she
got up and moved out of the shadows of the ruined wall.  She hopped over bricks
that became white in the dark.

            Inside
the reactors, a desperate attempt was being made to connect the generators and
pump the cooling water to chill the blazing core.  Abigail also understood how
urgent it was to do this, so she moved under cover of the dark as she groped
and searched for the pipe system through which the radioactive coolant flows.

            She
expected to see steam rising from there.  She knew clean water flowed over the
pipes and turned into steam because of the intense heat.  As she did not find
anything, she understood that, at present, nothing was flowing in them, and she
hoped she would succeed in getting to them as soon as possible, even before the
workers.

Abigail passed between various figures
and then found herself standing beside a system of thin tubes.  Evidently, they
contained coolant and without waiting, she pulled the clamping device out of
her tools and grasped a pipe.  She felt its heat, which was certainly tolerable
and clamped it, knowing that water would no longer flow through it.

She
continued doing this and clamped many pipes, disregarding the screams that demanded
someone turn off the reactors, which were getting hotter with every passing
minute.  Abigail prayed that no one would come and check what was happening to
the system of tubes that she was busy destroying.

Abigail
worked for longer than an hour in the cooling chamber, aware that the
temperature of the reactors was climbing so high that they would reach the melting
point.  Just then, there was an explosion.  It wasn’t a large one but sounded
close enough to make her decide to leave the pipes and make her escape.

The
figures around her began running and rushing about, but she knew that none of
those people had the faintest idea that one of them had destroyed the cooling
system. Abigail knew that even if they managed to connect the generators –
water would not pass through the clamped pipes she had ruined.

She was feeling her way out when someone
pulled her dress and asked her something.  She pulled her arm away and got away
through the wall that had collapsed and left the area quickly.

            Her
eyes had become accustomed to the dark and she jumped over the bricks of the
fallen wall, as she hurried to distance herself from the overheating reactors
in time.

            Initially,
she ran and then changed to a fast paced walk till the muscles in her legs
cramped with fatigue and a she felt a sharp pain in her hip.  She found it
difficult to breathe, sank to the ground and rested her head.  A minute later,
she turned on her back and peered up at the stars scattered in the sky above her
and spoke toward them.

"Arlene, my child, your mother is exhausted,”
she whispered to the wind, “Please, live my life for me because it seems that
mine will end today.”

A misshapen moon hovered on high and its
meager light partly illuminated clouds that would never bring rain in this
expansive wilderness.  Wearily, Abigail pressed on the center of her
communications device and knew that right now, signals were lighting up a long
way away.  She straightened the thin cord that moved near her cheek and spoke
two words to the small dot before her lips:

“Mission
Accomplished”

            In
an undisclosed location in Israel, the two words were heard and San stared at
Barak with his one and only eye and asked in a whisper as if he did not know
the answer:

            “Who
is prepared to tell her about her next mission?”

            Barak
ignored his remarks and responded quietly:

            ”I
knew you could do it.”

            Abigail
swabbed her face and was about to disconnect, but then she heard Barak continue
speaking.

            “Right
beside you, in the region of the reactors, there is an arsenal of rockets with
nuclear warheads.  We don’t know its precise location and are unable to get it
in our sights.  Find it and send us its coordinates.”

            “Received,”
she replied and Barak bowed his head and pursed his lips with worry.