Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again (22 page)

A small glare sprayed sparks in the
blackness of the night that looked like rudimentary fireworks while the
monotonous pounding of the huge drill continued thudding as before.  Nothing
happened.  Abigail twisted her lips in disappointment, got down on all fours
again and crawled away.  Suddenly a circle of yellow fire rose up behind her as
if it was being exhaled with a ‘pouf’, illuminated the night sky for a few
seconds and dissolved.  It was followed by the thunder of a massive explosion
that emitted great shockwaves and Abigail fell on her face on the wet earth.

Orange fire burst upwards in surprise as
if set off by a lighter and spread with lightning speed.  The tongues of flame
illuminated dark figures running around the island and a high-pitched siren
wailed.  In these few seconds, cars emerged from all directions, where their
existence was not even noticeable earlier.  The truth was that they had stood
in readiness all night in preparation for the possibility that a fire could break
out in a place that was redolent with the fumes of the inflammable fuel.

Abigail rose to her feet and ran like
crazy. She passed rocks that had earlier provided her with cover and hurried to
get away along the route she had prepared, between the trees of the forest as
she illuminated its paths.  She stopped beside a large shrub and pushed her way
into it, peeping out from there as she hid in it.  She gazed at the great fire that
had overtaken the whole island and whose light penetrated the forest,
illuminating its paths.

An enormous wall of vegetation blocked
her way and Abigail had to cut through it, tearing an opening through the
climbing stalks of giant vines.  She pushed her way through them, struggled
with the thorny bushes that wound round the branches of the trees,
and moved on, puffing and panting.

The rain stopped, but everything was
wet.  Abigail straightened her headscarf and used it to wipe her face.  In the
distance, she saw beams of light from cars driving along the distant roadway,
which gave her direction but was still too far away.

She marched for more than two hours
while the flames rose up behind her and tinted the sky orange.  She stopped and
faced a wheat field that spread out in all directions.  She looked up at the
stars for orientation and crossed the field diagonally, in an easterly
direction.  The vegetation reached her chest and she forged a way through it.  At
times, she could not see anything beyond the high stalks and the orange sky
above her. But, she listened to the sounds of the cars until she found herself at
the end of the field, close to the tarred highway.

Headlights drew close to her from behind
and she heard a car slowing down. Her heart pounded, but she continued walking,
ignoring her curiosity to turn and look back. The vehicle kept following her
and suddenly overtook her and she heard the voice of a woman call out to her.

“Hello, where are you going?”

Two women looked
at
her, one from behind the steering wheel.  Abigail knew that it was not
customary for women to drive and was surprised.  The light from the fire raging
behind her illuminated their faces moving from one to the other and the woman
got out. She opened the rear door, inviting her in but Abigail raised her hand
in refusal.  When she turned away to continue walking, she heard the woman say:

“We are both from your group, but we did
not get on the bus.  We stayed here with you.”

Abigail turned to her considering
whether to defend herself or play dumb and when the woman continued talking she
caught on and understood who the two of them were.

“We come from the waterfall that fills
the trapped lake. Do you remember?  Aisha told us about you.”  She got into the
car without further hesitation. 

They did not speak during the first few
minutes and Abigail remembered the story of Aisha’s exceptional village of
injured and disabled inhabitants.  She wanted to ask how they had reached her
and then heard one of them speak.

“I am Nadia and this is Kahida.  We know
that your name is Naima and we want you to join us.”  The driver, Kahida,
continued speaking.

“We have been following you for many
days, actually, ever since you reached the region.”

Abigail kept silent and wondered what
they actually knew about her and decided to remain silent and not identify
herself but then thought that she ought to say something.

“The truth is that I am also from your
group and I remained there,” she said. “But, I changed my mind because it was
cold and rainy and also because of the fire that broke out there.”

“Congratulations, Naima,” Kahida said,
ignoring Abigail’s remarks.

“If you like, you can join us now and,
if not, let us know before you come to us.”

Abigail
did not know that the people of the village were suspicious. They were
considered outlaws and therefore zealously protected their closed society.

 They continued driving and, after a few
minutes, Abigail asked to be dropped off at a nearby town.

“I promise to come and
let you know I’m coming,” she said, waved goodbye to them and stared after the
car until it disappeared from sight.

The damage to the drilling rig was massive
and disproportionate. 

The enormous explosion and the gigantic
fire created a vast crater and the massive drilling platform sank in the waters
of the Gulf together with the whole island. Large quantities of fuel escaped
from the well that was destroyed and poured into the sea and fish and dead
animals floated on the black oil and everything around was contaminated.  The
fire remained out of control for two days and the awful fire that broke out on
the platform on the island in the Persian Gulf could not be extinguished. Not
one word about it appeared in the Iranian press.

Experts came to examine the explosion on
the drilling platform. They speculated that the fire may have been triggered by
a spark that ignited the oil fumes.  No one conjectured or raised suspicions of
an attack or a deliberate explosion.  Nevertheless, security was heightened on
all oil fields and when the place was reopened to the public, anyone with a
sharp eye could notice the increased safety measures being taken.

Two days after the attack, when the
flames had not yet been doused, five people met in the office of Jalal, the CIA
agent.

Dark tea, almost black, was poured from
the small samovar that stood in the middle of the table and their mood was
excellent.  They were pleased with the results attained in their principal
sabotage of the Iranian nuclear reactors.

The British “
Daily Mirror”
was
spread open on an armchair in the corner of the room.  Its headline dealt with
the attack on the reactor at Isfahan, the large nuclear center.

“Mysterious explosion disrupts activity at
Isfahan Nuclear

Technology Center.”

The article expanded on the story of the
damaged Technology Center.  It reported that the center served as a nuclear
facility for research purposes only and operated four small reactors and
mentioned that the reactors had been supplied to Iran by China.

Liam
paged through the Iranian newspaper,
“Inshallah”
, looking for a report
on the reactors at Isfahan, but there was not a word to be found on the
subject.  He continued browsing and found a tiny notice without a frame to make
it prominent, which mentioned something about an oil well and a drilling
platform. It was entitled:

“Persian Gulf: fire on oil well drilling platform.”

“Look how the Iranians avoid
acknowledging the sabotage of their reactors but grudgingly admit the damage to
their drilling platform,” Bill exclaimed.

“Sure, they would never publicize their
failures or our successes,” Karma replied.

“That’s inaccurate,” Jalal commented,
“it’s true that their policy is to remain silent, but they keep strict silence about
everything related to their nuclear reactors.”

“I think they understood that the fire
on the island was an evasive tactic and that is why they reported only that,”
Karma claimed.  He whistled in admiration and called out:

“Pshaw, Bravo and Mabruk on your
success, Ma’am!”

Bill raised his cup of tea to toast
Abigail and nodded his appreciation.  Smiling broadly, he said:

“Hey, next time you’re asked to create a
diversion, don’t be so enthusiastic about it,” and when she smiled, he added:

“You don’t know how to use a light
touch, eh?  You were sent to pull off a small job and you turned it into the
star attraction.”

“Just a second, what’s wrong with that?”
Karma inquired.

“Did you ask what’s wrong with that?  What
would have happened if she had been given an easy assignment at one of the
reactors?  Just try and imagine the damage she could have done.”  Liam
responded to the laughter of the others and immediately added:

“I plan to suggest that Naima should
deal with the reactors instead of sending her to sabotage all sorts of oil rigs.”

*
* *

            “Come
and meet me in the lobby.” She heard Karma say to her in a rare conversation,
on the phone.

“Just the two of us?”

“Yes, at seven.”

When she tried to ask about the purpose
of the meeting, he was evasive and hung up.

It was a week after the attack on the
drilling platform and this was one of their rare meetings.  The meeting was
short but vital to her destiny.

Abigail arrived at six thirty and Karma
also came a little early.  He nodded to Emir and she noticed that his mood was
somber.  He sat and fidgeted with his phone.

“What is happening, Karma?  Why did you
call me?” she asked and didn’t know whether he heard what she said because when
he spoke, he did not answer her question.

“From tomorrow, you should keep your
eyes and ears open and record details in your memory.  It is important that you
continue being cautious all the time.”

            Abigail
looked into his eyes, trying to understand what he was saying now.  She asked
quietly:

            “Is
this why you asked me to meet you?”

            “I’m
going away tomorrow.”

            Abigail
did not understand what was unusual about this and why he was informing her of
it.

            “Okay.”

            “I’m
going away for a month, perhaps a month and a half, or even longer.”

            She
wanted to ask where he was going to and whether she could keep in touch with
him, but his tone did not invite a continuation of the conversation, so she
kept silent.  She almost blurted out that she would miss him.  She wanted to
tell him how he gave meaning to her life here and made her feel safe.  She even
believed that she would not be able to manage without him, but she could not
get the words out of her mouth.

            When
he stood up, tall and solemn, she looked into his wondrous eyes and smiled.  It
seemed to her that he was about to say something, but he simply turned around
and left.  Only now, as the beads in the curtain moved behind him at the
entrance, did she understand that she was hopelessly in love with him.  She
remained sitting like this and when she felt that Emir was staring at her from
behind the counter, she hurried to her room.  Immediately, she took the rolled canvas
out of her bag and spread it out on the bed so that the figures in the painting
looked at her.  She ran her fingers over them, touching the images of her
mother and sister and kissed her little daughter, Arlene.

            That
night, she left them lying beside her in bed, rested her arm on them and gently
caressed the rough surface of the canvas, back and forth and that was how she
fell asleep.  She did not weep but felt she had almost come to terms with the
fact that she had been abandoned by everyone she loved and that was apparently
the story of her life.

            Karma
boarded a plane the following day.

            He
flew to his family in the USA, to his wife, Salima, and his two small daughters.
 Kahit was five years old and Naziah, according to his estimate, must be a year
old, or a little more.  He presumed that the little one would not recognize
him, at all.

            But,
his longing for them, did not prevent him from spending the whole flight
thinking of the woman he had taken leave of the day before.

            For
many days, Karma had done everything possible to ignore Abigail’s tantalizing
beauty and unique character.  The truth was that he never thought he would meet
someone like her. He tried with all his might to prevent a relationship from developing
between them.  He kept their conversations short, was not pleasant to her in
his manner and took care to keep his distance from her as much as he possibly
could.  But, he was unable to prevent himself from falling in love with her.

            Now,
he recalled how he would like awake at night for hours. He fantasized making
love to her, imagining that she was his wife and the mother of his children and
that she only gave birth to sons.  He smiled as he recalled how he used the
pillow, folding it hard and kissing and hugging it as if it were Abigail.

           
Every
time he saw her his heart swelled.
  He remembered how
amazed he was when he heard about the attack she carried out in the Persian
Gulf.  He also remembered how he had questioned her ability to carry it out
alone.

            Now,
he thought of her question.

            “Karma,
can I talk to you and reach you on your telephone?”

            He
had answered her unkindly:

            “Absolutely
not!  Never call me.  Remember, they can trace us and discover everything
through the phones.”

            “Yes,
I know,” she replied in her throaty voice and then smiled.  Dimples deepened in
her cheeks and he clenched his fists at his sides.

He remembered resisting and not reaching
out to pull her close to his chest and gaze into her strangely beautiful eyes. 
He just stared at the little green tendrils that surrounded her irises and
thought how much he wanted to cover her face with kisses.  It never occurred to
him that she might desire that, too.

            Karma
was careful to hide from her the fact that he was married and had two little
daughters because he feared that it would put her off and turn her away from
him.

            Abigail
went to her room and tossed and turned in her bed all night.  Now she recalled
the feelings of jealousy that tore at her when she overheard him on the phone:

            ‘My
sweetheart’ or ‘Yes, I love you very much.’

            She
didn’t know that he was talking to his little daughter Kahit, and she could not
have known that she, Abigail, had already replaced Salima, his wife, in his
heart. On another occasion, she heard him blowing a whistling kiss in the air
and it was clear that there was someone he loved very much on the phone with
him.

She got up in the morning with a firm
decision to accept that this was her life and that there was no point in
bemoaning her fate.

            The
weeks that followed went by uneventfully.  She hardened her heart and refused
to pay attention to the pain that always accompanied her.  As the days passed,
she began to wonder what would happen if she tried to call him and, perhaps,
tried to find out where he had gone and why he had left.  Each time, she
resisted and in the end, she gave up.

*
* *