Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again (42 page)

BOOK: Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again
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“I remember that I decided to buy this
house just because of the yard,” she said sorrowfully,” but the garden wasn’t
like this.”

Karma went ahead and Abigail heard the
front door creak as he disappeared into the building.

“How did you get in?” she called out to
him.

“The door was open.”

Abigail hurried in after him and the
moment she entered she was struck by an awful smell and the appearance of the
place shocked her.

They could see that
many uninvited visitors had frequented the place in their absence and Abigail
raised her hand to her cheek in shock.  She walked around slowly, viewing the
rooms and the kitchen.  She looked at the dirt and the torn newspapers lying all
around and understood that her house had served as a free hotel and stopover
for drifters. From all the rubbish, it was not difficult to guess that meals
had been eaten here. Everything was filthy and disgusting and she sat down on
the rickety sofa that was missing its cushions, staring helplessly around.

“Tonight we can spread our clothes on
the beds and use them as sheets,” she yelled to Karma, who was checking out the
rooms.

“You’re not going to want to look at the
bathroom,” she heard his muffled voice coming from there.

“Tell me, what color are the floor tiles
here?” He yelled and peeked out of the toilet.

“To tell the truth, I really don’t
recall.  Tomorrow, we’ll roll up our sleeves, clean up and see how everything
looks underneath this layer of dirt.”

“Hey, we should also check if the
windows have panes of glass or are boarded up with wooden planks,” he suggested.
Abigail ran her finger over the dining table and wrote Karma’s name in the
layer of dust.

“By the way, how much did you pay for
this house?”

“Two million,” She replied and sighed
with disappointment.

“Tomorrow, after the clean-up, we’ll
know if it was worth it,”

He said, “Come, its late and I’m dead
tired.”

They strode to one of the rooms, where
there was a wide bed.  Abigail spread two galabiyas on the mattress,
straightened and stretched them over it and muttered wearily.

“Tomorrow we’ll change rooms because
this room isn’t a suitable bedroom,” and she climbed on the bed with her
knees.  Even before she laid her aching body on one of her gowns, she had
already fallen asleep.

Abigail woke up, shivering with cold,
and got up to look for something to cover herself with.  She remembered where
the light switch was located and pushed it up, but nothing happened.  She
sighed and groped her way to their bags and when she came upon Karma’s backpack,
she hesitated whether to open it and look inside but decided not to.

Had Abigail known what she was likely to
discover in her husband’s luggage, possibly everything would have changed
between them and their relationship would have proceeded entirely differently. 
She found her backpack and pulled a towel out of it, covered her shoulders and
back, lay down and tried to sleep, but the dreadful cold penetrated her bones.

Abigail rose and stood at the window and
listened to the wind swirling through the trees in the yard.  Karma sneezed and
woke up.  He saw Abigail standing with her back to him, looking outside.

“Good morning,” she said without turning
round, “I apologize and imagine that you are also disappointed.  At least, I
can console myself that I didn’t promise you a palace.”

“Never mind a palace but, hey, I don’t
know where to start to discover what it’s like.”

“I wasn’t teasing,” she promised, “give
me five or six days and see what we will find.”

“No problem, you’ve got it!  Where do
you want to start?”

“With a husband who can organize a cup
of coffee and a slice of bread and butter and, perhaps, some cookies and…”

“Hello there, aren’t you getting a bit
carried away?  Stop right there, my love.”

“Karma, my sweetheart,” she said in a
twangy tone and moved closer, embraced him in her arms and clung to him,

“I’m so hungry that I could devour you
in one piece.”

He kissed her hair and noisily inhaled Abigail’s
scent, which made them both burst out laughing and when he tried to kiss her
brow, she raised her face and her lips met his.  He kissed her eyes, and then
her lips once more, mumbled soft words and syllables and pulled her to him
gently.

*
* *

 

Karma’s phone sounded a brief ping and
when he read the message his pupils widened in terror.

“Tomorrow, midnight, at
‘Chai Huneh.' Effendi.”

He glanced at Abigail and quickly put
his telephone in his pocket.  A minute later, he went out into the yard.

At first, he hesitated about confiding
in his new wife, but he feared her great curiosity and shrewdness.  He decided
not to tell her anything lest that lead to questions he couldn’t cope with.

Now, Karma felt like a frightened
child.  He thought, perhaps, of ignoring the message and claim he hadn’t
received it. He remembered that his brother-in-law did not know he was now in
Azerbaijan, a distance of more than two days’ travel away.

Abigail came in from the yard, huffing,
and puffing and saw the look on his face.

“What happened?” she inquired as she
pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator door and drank thirstily from
it. 

Karma did not reply, perhaps he didn’t
even hear her and after she had put the bottle back in its place she glanced at
him again but decided to remain silent.  She knew they each had secrets they
couldn’t always share.

“Would you like something to drink or
should we prepare lunch?” she asked casually.

“Can you leave me in peace?!” he yelled,
arose from his chair, looked for his slippers and left their room. 

Abigail wrung her hands, wondering
whether to leave him alone and decided to give up investigating and prepare
lunch for both of them, instead.

Karma climbed into bed, rested his head
on his hands and calculated the long way from where he was to the pension in
Stary Smokovec in Iran.  It was many miles from their home.
 
He doubted whether he could reach it by the next day at midnight.  Thoughts
raced through his mind and his head ached with worry.  His fear was so great
that he decided to consult with Abigail.

“Naima, come here a second,” He called
out and she came to the entrance to the room. She was drying her hands on a
kitchen towel, and he calmed down the moment he saw the expression on her face.
 
She sat down on the side of the bed, and Karma handed her the telephone and
said:

“Read this message, read it aloud.”

She read dryly that tomorrow at
midnight, Effendi would be waiting for him at ‘Chai Huneh’ then she looked up
at him with her greenish eyes and only said:

“You won’t get there on time unless you
leave yesterday morning.”  Then, she followed up with the question he dreaded
the most.

“Who is Effendi?”

Till now, he knew he had been able to
hide the fact of his being married and the father of two sweet daughters, whom
he had left behind in the United States with their mother. His stomach ached
with anxiety.
  He almost lied and told her that he was one of the
members of the organization but, then he decided to tell only part of the
truth.

“Ah, he’s a member of my family.”

“Is he also a Kurd?  So what’s the
problem, send him a message that…”

“No.  It’s true that he is a member of
my family but, he is also my bitter enemy and he would have no compunction
about slitting my throat.”  He coughed a little and added:

“Ah, yes, he also doesn’t know that I am
married to you.”

Of course, Karma didn’t know that
Effendi, who was pursuing him, knew about his illusory marriage to this woman
beside him and even made a clumsy attempt on her life on their wedding day.

“What difference does it make who you’re
married to?” She asked in astonishment, “Friend or foe, Karma, you’re not going
to be able to reach him by tomorrow.”

When she saw how he was crumpling the
sheet he was lying on and the expression on his face, she understood that she
hadn’t been able to placate him. He was afraid of something he couldn’t or
didn’t want to share with her.

“I think you should inform him of the
enormous distance involved and try and arrange to meet him somewhere else.  Fix
a location that suits you so that he will actually be coming to ‘your
paddock’.”

“To where?” he asked. Where is the
paddock?”

Abigail’s laughter rang out.

“No, silly, it’s an expression that says
that he surrenders and is coming to meet you, where you decide and is humiliated.
Do you get it?”

“Sort of.”

“If he really does come to the place you
suggest and you insist on it – that’s already one zero in your favor.” Just
from the way Karma was breathing, she knew she had not been able to mollify
him.

“Honey, let’s check this out together.  If
you meet him and he makes a demand, you can refuse or evade it.  If he pulls a
knife on you, you can retaliate with another weapon and if you aren’t
interested in him – don’t reply and don’t go.”

Karma chuckled.  He supposed that she
was suggesting this because she had no idea who Effendi was. But, what she said
about where they should meet, made sense to him.  He mumbled quietly:

“So, where should I meet him?”

“You should consider one of the two
countries,” she suggested, “What do you think about Zanjan?  It’s a province
close to Azerbaijan.”

“Wait, that’s about four or five hours
away from here.”

“That’s right.  You can even make it
there today, but that Effendi will need at least ten hours travel, perhaps even
more so that he will only arrive there tomorrow before midnight.  What do you
think?”

He sent Effendi a text message with
trembling fingers:

“Can
come to Zanjan, midnight tomorrow.

If
you get there – we’ll meet.”

He immediately wondered if Effendi would
agree to meet at the venue he suggested since it would be like visiting his
‘paddock’ as Abigail had explained.

“Okay,
but where, precisely?”

Karma
thought about it and replied:

“The
Pahlevi neighborhood, Zanjan, near the split palm.”

            The
laconic response arrived a minute later:

“Agreed”

’What an idiotic little victory,' he
thought and looked at his watch, tense and nervous.

Khaidar also analyzed the situation.  He
presumed that Karma would consult his wife about their meeting.  Khaidar was
apprehensive about ‘Mossad’ agents, but believed that Karma would not involve
them as he would regard this as an entirely personal family matter.

            Effendi
planned to demand that Karma end his marriage and divorce his new wife.  Effendi
Khaidar was not a naïve man and since he presumed that Karma would not
accede, he intended offering to sacrifice some undercover agents, unimportant
small fry. Karma could present them as a gift to his ‘Mossad.’  In the event
that Karma was obstinate and continued to refuse, he could threaten to break
his cover and reveal his true identity and even let the ‘Kaukab’ organization
kill him.

            By
evening, Karma became more apprehensive about this meeting than of any
dangerous assignment in enemy territory.  For a second, he thought of confiding
in Michael, his operator, but he gave up the idea, because, like Effendi, he
considered it an entirely personal matter.

            Before
leaving, Karma equipped himself with a locator chip, which he planned to plant
in Effendi’s car. It would inform of Effendi’s location at any given minute
but, looked like an innocent metal button.  Unable to sleep, he lay awake all
night till he got out of bed and set out on his way.

            Abigail
was woken when the car started and saw that it still was dark outside. She glanced
at
the clock with the luminous hands on her bedside table
and saw in was a quarter past three.

            Her concern was aroused
because he left secretly.  She gathered that the matter was personal, but the
sleuth in her pushed her to contact Michael, Karma’s operator, as well as hers
and she, texted him a short message:

“Who is Effendi?”

      
The
response was immediate:

“Why?”

            And
she replied:

“My spouse went to meet him, and I’m anxious.”

            Michael
texted her back:

“What more do you know about the meeting?”

            Here, she paused because she
thought that this meeting might be crucial to Karma and she might ruin it for
him, even before it began.  However, then she received another message on her cellphone
screen:

"The
man is dangerous for your husband.

Effendi
is his relative and belongs to the ‘Kaukab’.”

            Abigail’s eyes opened wide
in fright.  At once she recalled the terrifying night and the trap set by Emir
at the ‘Chai Huneh’ where she was almost killed by the ‘Kaukab’ agents.  She
texted Michael back, immediately:

“Midnight.
Zanjan, Pahlevi neighborhood,

beside
the split palm.”

Effendi took precautions in advance of
the meeting.  First, he decided to send someone else ahead of him and called Adel.

Adel was dark-skinned and bald and
served as Effendi’s lackey.  He was shrewd and worked for him only because
Effendi paid for his meals and gave him sums of money from time to time for his
keep. He wasn’t particularly smart and his loyalty shifted only to those who
offered him better compensation or greater respect.

Effendi was well aware of this but, till
now there was never a problem, except for once when he found him talking to a
tall man whose eyebrows shaded large amber-colored eyes.  Effendi was furious
and punched Adel when he realized that he had been talking to Karma.

Adel cradled his aching arm and asked:

“Why?”

“That had better be the last time that
you chat with someone you don’t know!” Effendi roared.  “That man is
dangerous!”

Adel could not have imagined that the
man was Effendi’s brother-in-law.

“I have a meeting tomorrow at midnight,”
Effendi told him without being too specific. He threw him a roll of banknotes,
which he caught and quickly slipped into his pocket.

“It’s at the far end of the Pahlevi
neighborhood, in Zanjan and you have to get there first, is that clear?”

“In Zanjan?  Wow! That’s over the
border!  Who do you have to meet?”

“First, stop whining.  Mount your horse
and when you get there; hide behind the split palm that you can see from a
distance.  Try not to be discovered, do you hear me? Y’allah, get going,
there’s no time.”

Adel nodded even though he had many
questions, like: Where to eat or sleep on the long journey, or when Effendi will
meet this meeting, and whether to remain hidden all the time?  But he swallowed
the questions.

A quarter of an hour later, he placed
the black headband over the kefiya that covered his bald pate and went out to
the horse he loved, to prepare it for the long ride.  He patted the back of its
neck and caressed its long mane, mounted with a jump and clicked his tongue.
The horse stood erect and turned its small ears to listen to him and they set
off.

Adel put his hand in his pocket, took
out the roll of bills and counted them. He was already wondering what more
there was to be gained from this meeting as he urged the horse into an easy gallop.
He rode like that for many hours, sometimes slowing down to a gentle trot.  The
last rays of the sun had almost disappeared when his stomach began to rumble. He
scanned the surroundings to verify his location and stopped near a line of
run-down houses.

He estimated that he had at least a day
and a night’s ride to his destination. Adel saw the horse was tired and white
froth covered his mouth.  He dismounted, tied the horse to a post in a
ramshackle fence and pushed it to a patch of grass and bushes. Walking
clumsily, he climbed seven stairs to the first floor of the dilapidated
building. He stood and knocked on the front door with his fist.  It opened a
little and he roughly pushed it open and entered the dark apartment.

An old man recoiled in fright and in the
minutes that followed he did everything possible to placate the stranger who
had so rudely entered his home.  He sat down as ordered by the man and watched
him preparing a meal for himself.  The old man was grateful to God that his
family was out and he alone had been left at the mercy of the rude trespasser.

“Where’s your bucket?” the stranger
asked. The old man hurriedly gave him an old metal bucket, filled it with water
and carried it out into the yard, to the sweating horse. Still tied to the
fence, it kicked at the ground.

Adel also went out and waited till his
horse finished drinking, freed the tether from the post and led his horse to
the rundown courtyard.  For the next hour, he crouched on the ground, close to
the outside wall. He watched his horse uprooting and grazing on the shrubs
around it till he fell asleep.

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