Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again (28 page)

She jumped to her feet in a second,
swept up a chair that was beside her but stopped the moment she recognized
Jalal.  He covered his face with both hands to protect himself from the
expected blow.  Abigail put the chair down and stood ready, her legs spread
slightly apart with her hands on her hips. In spite of knowing the man lying on
the floor, she remained alert, prepared for anything.

“Why didn’t you pull my leg like I did yours?”
she asked, panting.  “Why didn’t you try to evade the blow?”  She asked as she
sat down on the chair that had served her as a weapon, a moment earlier.  Jalal
jumped to his feet and cursed under his breath.

“The hell with it, you almost killed
me!  Where did you learn to respond like that?”

“Survival instinct,” she said.  “I want
to live.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as
he panted hard.

She heard him say:

“If you come back in one piece this
time, we’ll celebrate your marriage with a great party,” leaving her
dumbstruck.

“What, what?” She exclaimed.

His remark was not something she
expected to hear because it contained words that frightened her.  First, she
heard the words:  “If you come back in one piece this time,” and understood that
a dangerous mission was being planned and that she might not return safely from
it.  The second matter, which concerned her, was who was dictating to her and preparing
to celebrate her marriage?

“Excuse me?!  Repeat that!  In whose
name are you speaking?” she muttered indignantly.

“In my name,” she heard a voice and a
black turban approached.

The smile was wiped off Jalal’s lips and
he bowed his head before the Ayatollah Karim, the religious authority, who had
just arrived.

Karim had witnessed her entry and had
seen the exercise she had performed but did not say a word.  He had been
informed a long time ago that she was as well trained as she was beautiful and
today he had seen her in action.

Abigail stood up and stared at the man. 
He was dressed in a snowy white robe and his graying beard decoratively covered
his chest.  As she looked him over and stared at his hooked nose and thick
eyebrows, she thought he reminded her of a bird of prey.

“Sit down,” he said in a commanding
tone.  But, she remained standing and suddenly turned to Jalal.

“If you would excuse me, I have
something important to say to this honorable gentleman,” she said and Jalal
opened his mouth and stared at Karim.  Karim nodded to him and Jalal withdrew,
leaving the two of them standing facing one another in the room.

Abigail spoke calmly:

“If you sit – I will also sit.”

Karim sat down, watched her sit down and
tried not to look at her unique eyes.

“I wonder, Sir, if you are accustomed to
meddling in personal matters without being asked to do so?”

She was unable to conceal her anger. 
When a smile spread under his mustache, she spoke in a voice that was quieter,
and calmer:

“I assume that you dictate the lives of
the people around you, Isn’t that so?”

Karim did not respond and she continued:

“If I am going out on an assignment with
little chance of returning, then what marriage is Jalal talking about?”

As he still kept silent, she understood
that this was his way of controlling the situation and she decided to try a
different method because she knew that she was not obliged to obey this man.

“We are alone,” she said, “it’s true I
am a woman, not a soldier, but you are permitted to acknowledge my presence,
Sir,” she added.

“In this room, there are only soldiers
of Allah, not men and not women,”  He stated.  He clapped his hands twice and
three men entered the room.  First Jalal, followed by another man she was not
acquainted with, joined them.  The third man caused her mouth to drop open in
surprise because it was Emir, the reception clerk, who had given her the signal
to come to this room.

“Tomorrow, an hour after midnight, you
will come to the X point we spoke of, dressed in clothing you will receive,” Emir
informed her.

“Aha,” she responded.

Emir placed a plastic garment and a tube
on the table.

“It is expected to rain tomorrow and we
must take this into account because the meeting will be held in the region of
the swamps.”

“Who will be awaiting me?”

“It makes no difference, he will be
watching out for you and will recognize you using the means at his disposal,” Emir
replied.

It was difficult for Abigail to
comprehend that this insignificant clerk, without any personality worth
mentioning, was sitting with them, an underground group fighting the ruling
regime.  She heard him continue speaking.

“The waters of the Charon River basin
are rising and flooding during this season. There is a great deal of water, so
beware and take care of yourself.”

His arm came close to her and the stone
in her ring scorched her skin.  Abigail realized that everything he said
sounded calm but under the surface his spirit was in turmoil.

The man she was not acquainted with
joined in the conversation.

“Okay, my name is Liam.  It’s said that
I am an expert in computers and if that is correct, then you are about to save
the world.”

She shifted her gaze away from him
because the tiny scar between the hairs of his stylish beard made him look
threatening and repelled her.

“You are going to the “Lashkar Abad”
facility where experiments are being carried out to separate isotopes and
enrich uranium, using laser technologies.”  He waited for her reaction and,
when there was none, he continued speaking.

“The place is deserted because the
Iranians claim it is closed and no longer active.”

At that moment, Abigail realized what he
was saying.

“Did you say that there is no activity
and that the place has been abandoned?  Wait, are we talking about the same facility?”

“Yes, it is said that it was abandoned a
long time ago and closed.”

“But that is inaccurate,” She claimed.  “A
month ago, after the explosion in the reactor  at Isfahan, I toured the place
and observed it,”  she spoke excitedly.  “What I saw there was far from being
abandoned.  I followed the movement of vehicles and I mean considerable movement
behind the fences.”

 
“It’s possible that cars came there because
the place was abandoned and empty.”

“No way!  The most important thing I
noticed was the security arrangements.  I even saw dogs running beside the long
fence.”  Pausing for a moment she looked at the three men.  “This reactor is
very active and I had the impression that it is working at maximum capacity.”

“Well said, but the establishment wants
to create the illusion that the facility is inactive,” Liam explained.  Jalal
tensed up with excitement in his chair.

“Hey, those dirty dogs!  Wait that’s something
we didn’t take into account.”  He announced.  “I suppose it will be necessary
to prepare differently and these are details we were unaware of before!”

“No, no. Not exactly, and actually, we
did have these details!  Naima, herself, transmitted the data to me and we have
already factored them in,” Emir announced and turned to Naima, “Isn’t that so?”

Surprised by this, Abigail looked at him
askance.  She couldn’t remember ever having discussed anything with this man,
especially not on this subject and she understood that something strange was
going on.  Thoughts raced through her mind.

She wondered if, let’s say, Emir told
the Ayatollah about the guards and the dogs – why hadn’t Karim mentioned this
important fact? From her point of view, it was a hint and a sign of something
having gone wrong.  Liam shoved her with his arm.

“Ah, yes, I was daydreaming for a moment,” 
She said.  He handed her a small gray object.

“This is a Flash-drive.  It has two
pins, which you must use to pierce the main cable. Then you have to code it to
allow the virus loaded on it to infiltrate the system."  He stared at her.

“Yes, it’s not a simple assignment. It’s
extremely dangerous and involves infiltrating highly secured areas.”

She closed her fist around the small
device, glanced at them and dropped it deep down between her breasts.  She
smiled apologetically and said contritely.

“Perhaps I’ll find a better place for it
tomorrow,”

At that very moment, a harsh creak was
heard from inside the house and Abigail gestured with her hands to hush them
up.

“Hey! Did you hear that?”  She
whispered.

Emir stood up and retreated to the side.

"
Yes,
what was it?  It sounds like the rusty hinge of a closet or the door to a
room,” Liam said and Emir took another step back.  The creaking was heard again
and Abigail whispered hoarsely:

“Someone’s lurking around here,” she
said and retreated quickly to the wall and switched off the light.

In the surrounding dark, the sound of a
spring being stretched was clearly audible.  Abigail whispered:

“Oh, it’s the sound of a gun being
cocked!”  And she pressed herself against the wall behind her.

Quick steps were heard.  An orange flare
flashed and muted sounds of gunfire echoed off the walls.  Someone was hit and
fell to the floor, a moan escaping his lips. Abigail slipped down on the floor
and clung to the seam where the wall met the floor.  Her hands felt a random
object and she hurriedly crouched down behind it, without knowing what was
concealing her.  A flashlight was switched on and drew long lines on the floor
tiles.  The light was projected in all directions and illuminated the object
she held on to but not her because she was protected by its shade.  The light
moved along the floor and lit up Karim’s white robe and turban, which had
fallen off his head, and both were stained crimson red with his blood. 

Abigail stifled a scream when she saw
the three bodies.  The flashlight was turned off and she heard three additional
shots and noticed the figure kicking each of the bodies that had been shot,
apparently, to verify their death.

“How many do we have here, Rulam?” a
loud whisper was heard in the dark.

“Three.”

“Hey, then we’re missing one.”

“That’s not important at the moment.  Y’allah,
(come on) Mustafa, let’s get out of here. If he’s here, he’ll have to come to
us.”

Abigail heard their names and committed
them to memory.  She could not have known that Rulam and Mustafa were two of
the six bearded men, who had met with Mas’habi, the double agent from the ‘Mossad.'

The two figures disappeared from the room
but left the door open.  Abigail remained fixed to the spot and did not move.

She waited in silence and only when she
was sure she was alone, she rose up against the wall, turned on the light and
immediately switched it off. That was time enough for her eyes to open wide in
amazement.  Emir, the man who had sent her to this room and gathered all of
them together there, was not among the dead.  Terrifying thoughts crept into
her mind and only now, she began to digest the day’s events.  She realized who
the devoted clerk really was, even though he had served her with unbounded
loyalty at this hostel, and continued to do so even after she moved to a
different one.

She glanced at the open door and
wondered whether it was supposed to invite the sole survivor to fall into the
hands of the assassins. That was the reason she turned left towards the wall
with the window.  She clung to the wall with her back and looked down the long
corridor.  She understood that the gunmen were waiting for her at the end of
that hall.

Making a snap decision, she turned to
the window, pressed on the metal handle and broke it with a ‘click’.  Once
more, she faced a terrible decision.

If she were to continue down the hall,
the gunmen could still be lying in wait for her and if she jumped out of the
window, she might be injured.  Deciding quickly, she held on to the window and
pulled herself up on the narrow railing.  She looked down below into the dark yard,
two floors below.  She took a breath, closed her eyes and jumped.

She landed like a frog on bent legs and
hopped further along, going around trees and stretching her arms ahead of her
to detect pillars or bushes in her way.  Where to?  She didn’t know.  When she
stopped, panting, she recognized the deserted light rail station.  She
approached it and embraced the familiar metal pillar that served as the meeting
point for her groups of tourists.

When the cold of the pillar penetrated
her clothing, she let go of it and wondered if she should return to her room.  She
feared one of the gunmen could be waiting for her there, having been instructed
by Emir, who was familiar with her routine and knew her habits there.  Of
course, she could not return to the ‘Chai Huneh’ or set eyes on the man who had
survived the assassination.  She also understood that the charming clerk had
been the intermediary responsible for gathering the four of them and turning
them in, as well.