Meeting Max

by Richard Brumer

  The desert turned cold. They needed hot food to warm them. Rick threw coriander and curry powder together in a little vegetable oil and added onions, potatoes, and peas. They ate it with chapati and Kingfisher beer as they sat with a blanket covering them.

  “I love to see your shiny lips when you’re eating, Elena. It’s sexy.”

  “Yours are the same. Makes for some slippery kisses.”

  “I hope you’re saving some of those slippery kisses for our dessert. I could live on them tonight.”

  “Tonight and every night.”

  “Yes, every night. Tell me what’s going on?” Rick prodded, hoping she would open up about her mysterious ‘other’ life.

  “I’ve never had the feelings we share now. I love you, Rick.”

  “I feel the same, but you have to talk to me.”

  Elena heaved a deep sigh and was silent for a moment. “You know I come from an activist family,” she said, lowering the blanket from her face. “I told you about it on the plane.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Well, a lot of that rubbed off on me. There were issues that crossed my path in life that I felt were unjust and needed to be fixed. Over the years, I supported and fought for the equality of the sexes and movements for the rights of young girls to receive an education in countries that didn’t allow it, like Afghanistan. I participated in demonstrations against the Catholic church for its ban on birth control.”

  Rick turned toward Elena and pulled the blanket over her neck. “I would be with you on all those things, Elena. I’m listening.”

  “I always needed a cause to fight for. Something about taking action energized me. I don’t know if you can understand that. Soon, I ran out of all the obvious injustices and waited for new ones to get my attention. I was strongly anti-war and an advocate for gun control. I stood in front of the schools that were hit by killing sprees, holding signs emphasizing the importance of in-depth background checks and gun control.”

  “I feel the same way, but my activism was limited to writing letters to the editor,” he said, wondering where this was going.

  “Writing letters is a good thing. I was more demonstrative.”

  “Go on.”

  “Americans are the descendants of revolutionaries. I think we need the spirit of that revolution to resurface because our country still has many of the same problems it had in 1776. There are still threats to our liberty and freedom.”

  “I agree, but it would not be possible for any human being to focus on all the issues that need to be addressed in this world. It would consume us and not give us time to live our lives. Why are we talking about these things? I want to hear about what we have to deal with now.”

  “Do we have the right stuff for masala chai?” She stalled.

  “Maybe.”

  Rick sifted through their provisions and came up with some stabilized milk, cardamom pods, sugar, and black tea leaves. They sipped their tea outside their tent, huddled under a blanket.

  “Elena, tell me what’s pulling at your insides. No more putting it off. Whatever it is must be hurting you.”

  “I’m in trouble, Rick.” Her voice trembled. “I don’t know if I can get out of it.”

  “Talk to me,” he said softly.

  “I’m really not the innocent woman you met on the plane.”

  “I got that feeling after the shooting episode.”

  “Well, do you remember the friend I told you about? Ali?”

  “The one from Pakistan?”

  “Yes. Ali’s brother was killed in a terrorist attack on Srinagar Airport in 2001.”

  “In Kashmir?” Rick asked.

  “Yes. His brother, depending on your point of view, was a terrorist, a freedom fighter, a nationalist, or just an activist. Ali was different, mild mannered and gentle. I could never see him as a terrorist, but Ali felt his brother’s anger and resentment toward India because he, too, believed Kashmir should be part of Pakistan, not India, since most of the Kashmiris are Muslim.”

  “Hatred runs deep.”

  “Yes, well, I hadn’t seen Ali for a couple of years. Unexpectedly, he contacted me and asked if I would see a friend of his named Kamran. He said that Kamran was a Pakistani, but somehow managed to live in Delhi. Ali mentioned to Kamran that I had activist leanings, and he said Kamran just wanted to meet me to talk. I agreed, mostly because Ali was a friend and I liked him.”

  “Were you living in the States?”

  “Yes. In Key West, where I was a columnist and wrote articles relating to life in the Keys for the Key West Citizen.”

  Rick nodded. “I know the area well. So, Kamran met you in Key West?”

  “Yes. I didn’t know what he wanted to talk about. Ali told him I was a journalist and that I had been to India several times. That apparently sparked his interest. My guess was that he wanted to offer me a job.

  “I met him in the Tiki Bar of the Gardens Hotel. He appeared to be a nice man, soft-spoken and caring, and we talked about the places I visited in India. I told him I loved Colva beach in Goa and fell in love with Munnar. He asked if I had been to Bombay and I told him yes, that I had stayed at the Taj Mahal Palace hotel and later went to Cochin. We have to go to those places, Rick.”

  “We will, Elena. So, take me back to Kamran. Why’d he want to know all that?”

  “I wasn’t sure. Nothing about our talk seemed to lead anywhere. There was no job offer and I began to think he had other plans for me, but I kept that thought in the back of my mind. We had a few drinks, then we walked in the gardens of the hotel.”

  “What were your feelings about Kamran?”

  “To me, he was a man of mystery. According to Ali, he was very rich, highly political, and probably tied in with the Bombay underworld, but that was just his guess.

  “First, I thought I would not have any part of that kind of involvement, but I have to admit, the idea of meeting people from the underworld of Bombay intrigued me. I don’t know why. I’m just being honest with you.”

  “Tell me more. I want to hear this.”

  “Kamran finally did offer me a job. He said he had investments and influence in the film industry, saying he could get me a high paying writing job in Bollywood. I would work with writers in the film industry to learn about film making, and then come to Delhi and work on a political film with him. It all sounded so fascinating.”

  “You accepted his offer?”

  “I did, but I wondered why he chose me, someone inexperienced in making film documentaries. I put those thoughts behind me and went about learning filmmaking. Kamran paid me a great deal of money in advance. I figured he was just some rich guy who wanted to do things his way, which was okay with me. Money’s not a dirty word.

  “I worked on his political film, learned a lot about research and editing, and did a good job of it. It turned out that the film was not very political and dealt with a subject already known by many, such as reiterating the story of separation between India and the creation of East and West Pakistan in 1947, nothing out of the ordinary, but Kamran tricked me. He did have an ulterior motive. I trusted him, until he wanted my help with something else.”

  Rick got up and handed her a fresh cup of chai. “And what was that?”

  “Kamran was cunning. He knew he had my trust and he wanted me to get information about the Indian defense minister, who had a penchant for single American women.”

  “Did you agree?”

  “Not at first, but we talked for awhile, and he explained that many innocent Pakistanis were being held prisoner in Indian jails. He convinced me that if I helped, even in a small way, it would be for a noble cause. My gut feeling told me not to, but I let myself get sucked in.”

  Rick held her hand under the blanket and squeezed it. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

  My God, what is Elena telling me? She’s too smart to be doing such a stupid thing. What would she gain from it? She really got sucked in big time.

  Elena went on. “Kamr
an’s plan was to kidnap the Indian defense minister and hold him hostage for the release of Pakistani prisoners. He told me most of the details. My part of the scheme was to develop a friendship with the defense minister and gather information about his travel schedules. Kamran also received information from his spies, but I knew one of them was a double agent who collected money from both sides and passed on misinformation to Kamran. My information would be more reliable.”

  Rick bit his lip. He looked at Elena differently now. His love had not diminished, but he wondered how well he knew her. Would the rest of her story change his opinion of her? Was his love strong enough?

  “Did you agree to this?” Rick asked.

  She hung her head. “I did.”

  Rick saw the shame on her face. Her lips were clenched as she looked down.

  “It was Kamran who played me. Rick, I was so stupid. He told me that because I had full knowledge of the plan, I was committed and my life would be in danger if I backed out. He added that if I tried to run, he would not be able to protect me. He said if I cooperated and the operation was completed, I would leave with more money than I ever dreamed of.

  “I didn’t get involved for the money, but Kamran couldn’t understand that. I think it was just something he threw in as insurance if my inherent sense of activism wasn’t enough.

  “When I left you at the airport, Sudar drove me to Kamran’s house, where I listened to the details of the attack.” She looked up, her eyes moist. “Kamran had put together all the pieces about me before we even met in Key West. He had me pegged as an easy mark. Ali clued him in. It was a no-brainer for Kamran.”

  “We can get you out of this,” Rick insisted, pulling her closer. “There’s still time. What did you do next? I assume you met the minister. How did that happen?”

  “I wrote a letter to the defense minister and asked for an interview on the pretense that I was writing a book about present day leaders in India. He answered that he would consider it and asked me to send him a resume, which should include my background, publications, and a picture.”

  “A picture?” Rick asked.

  “Yes. That might have had an influence.”

  Rick leaned over, put his hand on her chin, and kissed her. “I’m sure it did.”

  “Well, he read parts of the two books I had written, plus my work as a columnist. I think he felt flattered when he agreed to the interview. He believed I was an established author and was happy that I was an American as well. The interview went well, and we became friends.”

  “I would have hired you too.”

  “The defense minister, Subhash, was married, but happy to have another female in his life to live out some of his fantasies. Before your mind gets going, there were no intimacies of any kind. He implied he wanted a closer relationship, but I kept telling him to wait until we knew each other better.”

  “Yes, I know how good you are at putting things off.”

  “Getting closer was something that was not going to happen. We met often, and I got to know his interests. He was a big sports fan, especially of cricket, and he played golf and tennis. He said he had over six hundred bottles of wine in his cellar, and he collected stamps. He had one bodyguard in plain clothes who kept his distance when we were together.

  “He told me that, twice a month, he invited friends to his house, usually no more than three or four men. They ate, drank, smoked the finest Cuban cigars, and told jokes. No women were allowed, and they spoke openly about their travels and mistresses. He said he mentioned me, without using my name, and told his friends I would soon be his mistress.”

  “How did you avoid the sex? I mean…”

  “That wasn’t difficult. He was a true gentleman, in his sixties and in a loveless marriage, and when we discussed sex, he said he was willing to wait.”

  “What kind of information did you need? Did you get it?”

  “I needed information dealing with his time schedules. Subhash always talked about his grandmother, who he loved dearly. She lives in Jaisalmer and he visited her periodically.

  “When we talked on the phone to arrange our next meeting, he would always let me know when he would be flying to Jaisalmer. For security reasons, very few others knew. I was his confidant, and, in his mind, his future mistress. His schedules, whereabouts, and habits were the most important pieces of secret information that Kamran needed desperately.”

  “Why? How did it fit into his plan?”

  “The plan was totally dependent on timing, and it became the key bit of intelligence that made everything possible. Kamran is prepared to take him at the Jaisalmer airport when he visits his grandmother.”

  “Take him? What do you mean by ‘take him’?”

  “Take him hostage.”

  “When is this going to take place?”

  “In a few days at Jaisalmer airport.”

  “Why do you have to be part of it? Your job is over.”

  “Kamran wants me to stay with the minister until he’s on a biplane that will take him to Pakistan.”

  “Elena, you’re out of this! When we get back, we’ll spend the night together at my place. Nobody will know you’re there. We’ll leave early the next morning, hide out somewhere else in India, and then get out of the country.”

  “But my things, my clothes, everything I have. I need my…”

  “Do you have your passport with you?”

  “Yes, of course. I don’t go anywhere without it.”

  “Good. Forget everything else. We’re together forever, Elena. Let’s just get you out of this mess. Call the authorities and tell them there will be an attack on the airport.”

  “Can I make this call in private?” She said, her hands trembling.

  “Of course.”

  ***

  Elena moved a few paces away so she could talk privately. She called the Indian police station in Jaisalmer and was put on hold and then disconnected.

  So much for telephone service in India.

  She tried to get the number of the IB, the Indian Intelligence Bureau, but telephone information for the area was not available. Just in case, she called Mrs. Vidya and asked her to tell her son, Meher, about the attack so he could report it as well.

  With shaky hands, she called the police again and connected. She told them that a man named Kamran would be leading an attack at the airport and gave them his address. She knew he would not be at home because he would already be with his men.

  Rick walked closer to her. Her hands were still shaking and she was taking deep breaths.

  “I did what I could,” she said, tears running along her cheeks.

  ***

  Rick couldn’t explain Elena’s behavior. Her tight lips and heavy breathing told Rick she was in a state of panic.

  What didn’t she want me to hear? Did she really call the police or other authorities? She’s so scared, I can’t be sure.

  Rick’s heart pounded. He knew they had to act fast. He quickly formulated a plan in his head. They would take the morning train to Jodhpur, then on to Bombay. After staying there for a bit, Elena could fly back to America.

  Why did she do this? This is not a protest. There were no signs to hold up. This is terrorism! Why didn’t she call the authorities before? Was she that scared?

  It was madness. What she had agreed to was extreme. She could lose her life. Getting away made the most sense. After she was on the plane to the US, Rick would continue his search for Eric in Bombay. He had a solid lead now. Then he would meet Elena back in the States. For now, they had to get away from Jaisalmer, Kamran, and all this insanity.

  Rick would miss Elena if she had to go back to the US, but at least she would be safe. They would be cursed by the distance between them, but would enjoy the finer parts of their relationship that others, with the privilege of nearness, fail to notice. He felt that their letters, words, and voices would cut through the miles until they met again.

  All they had to do was get out of Jaisalmer.

 
They finished their tea, sat by the fire, and watched the burning wood turn into embers. It turned cooler. They huddled together under their blanket and talked.

  “Why did I do it? Now I’m trapped,” Elena said, biting her lips.

  “Relax. Don’t blame yourself. We all make bad judgments. We can get you out of this if we work fast and run. We’ll stay together at my place tonight. There are probably no flights available and no trains tonight. In the morning, we’ll get the first train out of Jaisalmer to anywhere it takes us, maybe Bombay. Then we can safely make our plans.”

  “Sorry for getting myself into this,” she said as tears filled her eyes. “It was stupid and impulsive. What is it with me? I made a horrible judgment about something that had no relevance for me. What was I thinking? Was I just fired up, ready to fight for a cause? Any cause? Stupid, just stupid.”

  “Relax. Don’t brood over it. We’ll be okay, honey. Let’s get going. We have to act fast!”

  Rick poured water on the remaining embers, packed their things, and left the tent where it was. They rode their camels back to where they started.

  Elena told Rick that Guinevere had long eyelashes and smiled to herself.

  ***

  They contacted Ganesh to pick them up. At their request, he tried to call the airlines for them, but services were closed. They said nothing to him about their predicament and did not want him involved.

  It was a cold, moonlit night. They shivered their way back in Ganesh’s Jeep until they were safe in Rick’s room. Within minutes, there was a blackout, and Jaisalmer was without electricity. Their room was partially lit by the moon, giving them the opportunity to just about see each other.

  Rick lit two candles, one in the bedroom and another in the bathroom. Elena’s body still had fine traces of sand on her skin. She got into the shower, closed her eyes, and let the warm water stream over her. Soon, Rick was beside her. The curves of her body were now familiar to him. They kissed and had no thoughts of anything except their love for each other.

  Rick looked into her sparkling eyes, her face radiant and wet as warm water streamed over her, flattening her curls. Rick washed her hair and then soaped her body. His hands glided over every part of her, lingering at her breasts.