Tracks

by Niv Kaplan

  “Does he love you?”

  “I think he does, very much.”

  “Then be patient. It’ll work out. Don’t push him. Let him work it out by himself. He’ll come around. You are the one and only woman he has been with since his wife died. It means something.”

  Supporting one another, they hailed a taxi, which took them uptown. Natasha got off on Second Avenue and 36th Street; Elena proceeded a little further up to Sam’s apartment.

  Before she fell asleep she had a thought that maybe it could work in reverse. If they had a child together, it might free Sam and change his frame of mind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Jose Luis Ortega’s remains were transferred in a wooden casket through the border checkpoint at Taba, five days after Clair and her son safely crossed the fence.

  Four of those five days were spent in stiff negotiations. Ortega’s only brother, Fernando, flew in from Madrid and along with Sam, David Kessler, the Spanish consuls from Cairo and Tel Aviv and the US consul from Tel Aviv, haggled with the Egyptians over the release of the body.

  To finally get it, the Spaniards had to agree to drop any murder allegations and not press any charges against Ortega’s executioners who claimed he was accidentally killed while attacking a judge trying to flee the Dahab prison after he was apprehended for kidnapping El-Shara’s boy. The Spaniards also had to agree to keep the episode away from the media.

  Nothing was revealed about Detective Jack Preston.

  Sam refrained from confusing the two issues and made absolutely certain they got Ortega’s body before raising the topic of Jack.

  When he finally did, the Egyptians refused to discuss it. When the American consul threatened sanctions they acknowledged the fact that Jack was in custody and awaiting trial but refused to allow any visiting rights or consider reprieve.

  The consul promised action as he bordered the flight back to Tel Aviv but Sam was pessimistic.

  Standing at the Taba Border checkpoint with Kessler and Fernando Ortega, who was to escort his brother’s casket back to Madrid, he wondered whether the diplomatic channels had been usurped and Jack was being made scapegoat in the name of pacifying the Egyptians who threatened to complain of the US meddling in their private affairs.

  Fernando Ortega spoke little English and was not a conversational man. Sam watched him as he intently scrutinized the border exit where the casket was due to appear. He felt certain antagonism from him and realized he was partly to blame for Ortega’s death. He had to accept the grim burden and understood that the family would have their grievances with him.

  “I got a bad feeling about Jack,” Sam said to Kessler who was nervously puffing on a cigarette.

  “I don’t trust these Egyptians,” Kessler was saying, he too focused on the border exit. “They could change their minds at any time.”

  “Jack has no chance standing trial there,” Sam persisted.

  Kessler looked at him, distracted. “What are you thinking?” he asked suspiciously.

  “I’m thinking Harley all over again,” Sam said.

  Kessler looked dumbfounded. “That’s a little above our heads. Don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know, David. You tell me.”

  “You need to find him first.”

  “And when we do?”

  “It depends. Getting him out of a guarded prison is nothing like escorting him over the border like we did with Clair and the boy. That was quite a big risk in itself.”

  “Can you help?”

  Kessler sighed. He had already exploited quite a large number of resources and favors with the Israeli Intelligence services to rescue Clair and her son. Extracting Jack from within Egypt, assuming they were able to gather accurate enough intelligence as to his whereabouts and come up with a reasonable plan, would be a colossal undertaking with extremely slim odds of success. It was more likely to fail and cause a major diplomatic stink than anything else.

  But David Kessler was committed to the cause by now and could not ignore Sam’s distress.

  “Would Harley agree to it?” he questioned Sam.

  “If there’s enough money in it for him, he’ll probably do it.”

  “Can you pay him?”

  “I could come up with some cash, I believe,” Sam said. “The question is - can you guys give us a hand?”

  Both Kessler and Sam knew that without Israeli assistance, they were doomed. Harley’s crew could perform the actual extraction but everything leading to it, including gathering intelligence, employing informers, providing needed hardware and insertion means, all were predicated upon a hefty Israeli contribution.

  “It’s a long shot, Sam. Very risky.”

  “Will you do it?” Sam persisted.

  “If we get a break, maybe. Otherwise I doubt I’ll get cooperation.”

  “What do you mean – ‘a break’?”

  “I mean, if we find out where he is. Then we can point people there. Otherwise it’s like a needle in a haystack.”

  “Can’t we work some process of elimination and focus on a most probable site? I mean, in the end, he has to be tried in Dahab.”

  “There’s no such thing as ‘has to be’ in the Arab lexicon. They damn well do as they please and can try him in Cairo for all we know.”

  Kessler paused then went on.

  “And even if they do try him in Dahab, once he gets to trial, he’ll be out of our reach. We need to get him before he reaches a court if we have any chance at all.”

  Sam fell silent. A procession of vehicles appeared, rolling slowly towards them through the border checkpoint. A military Jeep led the way followed by a command car and two more Jeeps belonging to the UN forces.

  Fernando became emotional. His body became rigid and he apprehensively began inching toward the approaching vehicles, Sam and Kessler by his side.

  The procession cleared the border obstacles, gates and fences, and stopped by a grassy roundabout that had a large Israeli flag propped in its middle, the placid Gulf waters and Jordanian cliffs looming under the blazing sun in the background. An Israeli liaison officer stepped out of the leading Jeep and solemnly waited to greet them. They shook hands and followed him to the command car where the wooden casket with Jose Luis Ortega’s body lay.

  Fernando touched the casket and began stroking it, tears running down his cheeks. Sam felt a heave of emotion engulf him and he looked away, his vision becoming bleary. His association with the Spaniard suddenly flashed through his mind. He recalled Black Jack recruiting him after the Ricardo affair. Ortega had left the Spanish Airport Police force to join them. He and Jack had become best of friends. He recalled himself and Ortega bumping into another dead end following the Rio boy in Madrid not three weeks earlier, which now seemed in another time zone. Ortega had been a loner, a serious person with a perplexing sense of humor. He never married and Sam did not know of any women in his life though he was apt to stare and comment favorably on the opposite sex, no different than most heterosexual men.

  Sam had thrashed himself constantly over sending the Spaniard on his own after Christine and Jack, and had envisaged his plight countless times, being accused, pursued and shot by his captors, bleeding his life away, unaided, on the burning desert sand.

  Fernando was now hugging the coffin, openly sobbing.

  “We’ll go get our car,” Kessler said in Hebrew to the officer and led Sam away, leaving Fernando to mourn.

  “Tragic,” Kessler mumbled. “Is he his only family?”

  “His parents live near Madrid but are too old to travel. Fernando’s married and has two children.”

  “Will you be at his funeral?” Kessler asked.

  “I suppose I must,” Sam said, “though I hate to leave matters here unresolved.”

  Kessler unlocked the rental car’s doors and rolled down all windows before they could slither into the smoldering car, Kessler at the wheel.

  “You go, Sam. You owe it to them. I’ll watch things around here meanwhile. When you re
turn, we’ll figure out where we stand.”

  Kessler was being kind. Not making any promises, he would look into the matter and try to determine things. Sam hoped he might even use his informer again, the one that had assisted Chris. He secretly agreed that determining where Jack was being detained was foremost if they had any chance of springing him. He also had to admit that without such a break, it was almost unattainable. Jack would have to be the one to send a signal or he was doomed.

  Kessler positioned them last, behind the UNIFIL Jeeps as the convoy slowly moved out in the direction of the Eilat airfield, Fernando sitting alone in the back of the command car next to his brother’s coffin.

  Two police motorcycles joined, clearing the way at the front.

  To their right the blue-green waters shimmered in the blazing sun. The port town of Aqaba on the Jordanian side lay peaceful across the tip of the Gulf. They drove past the Eilat reef observatory and further past the Eilat port with its tall cranes offloading anchored ships and square parking lots crowded with lines of new imported cars waiting to be shipped north.

  The Eilat Airfield was a single runway for small jets and turbo-prop airplanes. Its tiny terminal resembled a bus station, just off its main street.

  The procession was allowed entry through a side gate advancing to an awaiting Arkia Turbo-prop who was to fly them to Tel Aviv’s Ben Gurion airport. From there they were booked on an Iberia flight to Madrid.

  They parked on the tarmac next to a line of small planes and Sam hurried to the terminal to arrange the paperwork and buy a ticket for himself. He was back when the wooden casket was being hauled into the cargo bay, Fernando and Kessler glumly watching the proceedings.

  “I’m coming with you,” Sam addressed Fernando pointing at the fresh ticket he had just purchased.

  “Gracias,” Fernando said, bowing his head.

  “Wise move,” Kessler said as they followed Fernando to the front of the plane. A small group of people had lined up by the stairs waiting to board.

  “I’ll be back soon as it’s over,” Sam said leveling his gaze at Kessler.

  “I’ll make some inquiries,” Kessler said, giving nothing away.

  “I need to help Jack.”

  “I know Sam. I’ll do my best.”

  “Harley will do it. I’ll guarantee that. Just find Jack for me.”

  Kessler nodded but said nothing. They shook hands and Sam climbed the stairs. At the top he turned and looked down at Kessler.

  “Thanks for everything. You’ve been a friend.”

  Kessler smiled as Sam stepped into the airplane.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Ali’s red training suit looked a small fading speck among the trees as Mai-Li tried keeping pace with the crew.

  The five thirty morning conditioning sessions were a big challenge for someone as unadjusted as she was. The exercise spanned nearly ten kilometers of non-stop physical workout through hillside terrain involving running, climbing, crawling, balancing, strengthening and stretching every existing muscle, without as much as a minute’s rest. A chilly drizzle stung her face and she constantly slipped on the wet earth.

  Fatigued to the point of collapse, Mai-Li had to stop for a spell to catch her breath. The closest person to her was Lizzy O’Leary who was now hanging on a rope, pulling himself across, over a bottomless gully.

  Mai-Li was not sure she could swing it. The gully was roughly five meters wide and at least twice as deep. The rope over it stretched between two trees. To reach it one had to climb up several feet of bare wood with hardly a foothold.

  Exhausted, she reached the tree, stood a minute catching her breath and began a futile attempt to climb it. She put both hands around the wet trunk and tried pushing with her legs but kept sliding down. Lizzy had cleared the gully by now and was forging ahead.

  She tried once again but to no avail. Her body would not respond. On her third try, she suddenly felt as if she had grown wings. Someone heaved her from below and the rope was suddenly within reach. She grabbed it, her legs still hugging the tree and looked down at her savior.

  It was Harley and he was smiling silently encouraging her on. Talk was not allowed during morning exercise. She smiled back at him, thankful, and looked ahead at the abyss she needed to cross, not sure her muscles would support her. She let go of the tree and flung her body in the air, her hands pulling at the rope.

  At about half way she suffered a setback, not sure she could bring her hands forward anymore, but when she looked down to assess the fall below her, she managed just enough strength to pull her the rest of the way.

  She reached the tree on the other bank and slid down its bare trunk, panting. Once safely on the ground, she stood a minute, leaning against the tree.

  Harley was right behind her. He came down the tree and stood over her, staring. Then he stooped down and kissed her on the mouth before thrashing ahead.

  The crew, sprawled about in a secluded forest patch, was already into their final stretching and loosening exercises when Mai-Li appeared. She found a bare spot and lay on her back. Ali came over to help loosen her legs. It was the fourth consecutive day Mai-Li had performed the morning session and her body was drained of energy. Upon their return, Harley had declared a “get-back-in-shape week” and invited Mai-Li to join. Though she was quite an exercise buff, frequenting pools and gymnasiums whenever time allowed, nothing could prepare her for this.

  Earlier in the week, Long-John and Ali had been the welcoming party for the returning force with two Jeeps at the airstrip near Inverness.

  Mai-Li gathered her wits only after a long hot shower and a rub down from Ali who took pity on her only woman companion and offered to loosen her strained muscles. She was an expert masseuse along with all her other qualities.

  “I have a degree in Physiology,” she explained as she dug her fingers into Mai-Li’s lubricated bare thighs. “The job description here also involves strained tendon and muscle treatment for the boys. I had to take a specialized course for that.”

  “It feels great,” Mai-Li said, feeling Ali’s palms pressure her lower back, then move up her spine.

  “Harley kissed me,” she said matter-of-factly when Ali instructed her to turn over.

  “He did what? When??” Ali exclaimed, applying oil to Mai-Li’s stomach, not shy about touching her breasts and pelvis area as she spread the oil to her shoulders and legs.

  “This morning, on the course. He kissed me on the mouth after he helped me cross the gully.”

  “Has the old man finally succumbed?” Ali said in wonderment.

  “Succumbed to what?” Mai-Li inquired.

  “Love, I suppose,” Ali observed. “I doubt he ever had time to become involved with a woman.”

  “Has he ever been married?”

  “Married?” Ali chuckled. “His only marriage was to the regiment.”

  “Has he ever been with a woman?”

  “Oh, that, well, I’m sure he’s had his share of one night stands, if you know what I mean.”

  “Hookers? Escort services? Is that what you mean?”

  “Among others,” Ali surmised. “I guess he was never long enough in one place to experience more than just sex with a woman.”

  “Then why should it be different now?”

  “It may not be. I don’t know. But I doubt Harley takes you for a one night stand.”

  Mai-Li became quiet. She shut her eyes, surrendering to Ali’s treatment. She knew Harley respected her but had been surprised to find anything beyond. He was almost twice her age, a legend. What would he want with her?

  Yet she also felt something for him. Indebted? Possibly. Fondness? Maybe. Arousal? Was she aroused by his kiss? She recalled how he gently rubbed her lips with his for that brief second by the tree.

  Ali’s hands were now massaging her inner thighs and she felt like she had definitely been aroused. She opened her eyes.

  “Are you married Ali?”

  “Not even close. Few people are, in this li
ne of business.”

  “Who is married?”

  “Lizzy’s married. He comes from Glasgow. Even got a grandson.”

  “Oops, I thought he was married to Harley,” Mai-Li remarked and they both chuckled.

  “Copeland’s married, Long-John and that's about it.”

  “You been with anyone here?” Mai-Li asked, then regretted it. “Sorry Ali, you don’t have to answer.”

  Ali stopped her doing and looked her over. Daubed in oil, Mai-Li’s skin looked ivory. Her body glistened, her small breasts firm and round, her nipples dark and erect. Her flat stomach heaved excitedly and she now had the palm of her hand over her sex.

  “How long has it been for you?” Ali asked.

  “Three years,” Mai-Li blurted out.

  “Then it’s about time. Me, I’ve slept with several but only with Devlin here. We still do at times.”

  “It could complicate things,” Mai-Li suggested.

  “No more than me sleeping with Devlin.”

  “Do people know?”

  “They suspect, but so what? We’re all grown-ups aren’t we?”

  “What do the others do for... you know?”

  “They get a monthly leave. Some go to Inverness. Some go home if they live close.”

  “What do you do?”

  “My parents live quite close so I split my time between home and shacking up with Devlin for a night.”

  Ali wiped the oil off her hands with a towel and began to undress. She unzipped her red sweatshirt, unclipped her bra then stepped out of her sweatpants and panties. Mai-Li admired her tall silky, white naked body. The muscular, yet agile frame stretched in front of her as Ali loosened her limbs before stepping into the shower.

  “We go on leave this weekend,” she raised her voice above the running water. “You can stay here with him.”

  “I got nowhere else to go,” Mai-Li said to herself as she lay her head back wanting to sleep.