Disappearance (A Mystery and Espionage Thriller)

by Niv Kaplan

  Paul nervously took off his tie then walked over and stood behind Martha, looking at her in the mirror. He put his hands on her shoulders. They were sweaty. He moved his fingers up and down her back. She sat motionless.

  "Karen called," she said softly, avoiding his gaze.

  "How is she?"

  "It's her birthday."

  "I know…"

  She suddenly lost her desire to confront him. She was tired of sharing her life with him. She no longer cared at what hour he came home. She wanted out. She wanted his fingers off her back…

  "I'll get dressed," she said and pushed to get up. "Your vodka is in the bottom drawer."

  He had tried to hide the fact, but she knew he had been drinking heavily for several months. He kept silent. She left the towel on the bed and stood up, naked. He felt his body respond and followed her with his gaze as she gracefully walked around the room. He loved her dearly but life took an ugly twist. They had drifted apart. There was no making up. The gap had opened too wide.

  "Is Karen OK?" he asked, walking opposite the bed, drawing open the large curtains covering the sliding glass doors which led to Martha's mini botanical garden, revealing a magnificent view of the Conejo valley resting below. Paul slid the glass doors open and looked out. The night was clear. The special garden lights shimmered in the small pond.

  "Do you miss her?" Martha asked contempt in her voice.

  He didn't respond right away. Instead, he took out a Marlboro pack from his shirt pocket, searched his suit pockets for the Ronson lighter, fumbled with it, and lit a cigarette. He looked out at the valley again and inhaled slowly. It wasn't a simple question and he had no rational answer. He was paying a price for neglecting his daughters. He was losing his wife; the one person in the world he truly loved.

  In his deepest, most primitive thoughts, he blamed the girls for ruining his marriage. He wanted to have children but it caught him totally unprepared. As meticulous as he was in building his company, he was careless in his preparation of building his family.

  He felt he was in competition with his children for his wife's attention. He wanted her all to himself. A year after Lisa was born he realized that he could not cope. He knew it could not be explained or accepted, so he withdrew. Anything he did with the girls was only to please Martha. When they found out she was pregnant with Karen, he demanded an abortion. Martha wouldn't hear of it. He had no choice but to accept it. He decided to make a gallant effort to overcome his jealousy and join his family. It did not last long.

  When Karen turned five, Martha was ready to leave. He felt trapped. He could not afford to go through a divorce, needing to maintain a steady front for his company, the community, for his parents. A divorce would have ruined his image being a pillar in his community. Questions would have been asked, eyebrows would have been raised. It had been too risky and would have turned too expensive. He pleaded with her and she agreed to stay. It became a little easier as the girls grew. He felt less threatened and he had more time with Martha.

  Then his company nearly collapsed.

  He had made several smart investments over the years. His latest and most successful was PhotonTek, Inc. The company was a huge success in the early seventies, capitalizing on one of the world's latest and most promising discoveries, the LASER.

  Glass had been one of the first to realize the laser's enormous commercial potential at a time when it was used exclusively for research in university laboratories. Being quicker and more aggressive than his competitors, he linked up with a professor from the University of Rochester and began to pursue commercial applications. He managed to raise over five million dollars, and set up a facility in the San Fernando Valley, which was used to develop laser technology for industry. He quickly managed to define those industries that would benefit most from the use of the laser, and began to interface the technology with specific applications.

  The company took off. With a very smart and aggressive marketing campaign, his company managed to reach break-even point within a year. Sales doubled the following year, and tripled in the next two years. PhotonTek had a firm hold on supplying laser equipment to several key industries. It had a15% share of the worldwide laser industry sales.

  The future looked bright.

  Then, in June of 1982, in a dramatic development in a district court in Florida, the laser industry was dealt a crushing blow. The long legal battle over who invented the laser was decided.

  The invention was awarded to a professor who was an assistant at Columbia University in 1959, when he developed the concept of Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation. The verdict handed a group of patent attorneys, representing the inventor, authorization to license the entire industry. It meant that anyone, who was manufacturing and selling lasers and their beam delivery systems in the US, had to pay royalty fees ranging from five to ten percent of the sale price, depending on the type of laser, for the subsequent seventeen years.

  The laser industry was hit hard. The smaller companies folded, the larger ones consolidated. PhotonTek faced bankruptcy. Two principal investors pulled out and Glass was hurting for cash.

  PhotonTek Sales in 1981 were over $20 million but profit margins were relatively low due to the high cost of R&D. Most of the profits were invested back in R&D in the everlasting battle of keeping competitive with technology and client demands. Cash flow was a constant problem and with over 250 employees, Glass needed every penny to be able to pay salaries and overheads.

  With the added liability of paying royalties, PhotonTek's projections looked bleak. In an effort to cut costs, Glass laid off over one hundred employees in the months following the verdict, but it wasn't enough. He needed more cash to stay afloat.

  PhotonTek was a closely held company with Glass being the major shareholder. He held 34% of the company's stock. The rest was divided among three principal investors, each holding 22%. Facing bankruptcy, with two principal owners pulling out and several looming hostile takeover bids, PhotonTek needed a miracle.

  He spent months searching for investors roaming the globe desperate to save his company. He considered everything from a public stock offering to putting up his personal assets as collateral. There were no takers. It seemed hopeless.

  Then he got a phone call, and realized he had no choice but to accept their terms.

  -------

  He threw the burning cigarette stub on the patio, then walked out and stepped on it, putting it out. Martha hated when he did that.

  He came back and stood by the glass door, looking at her.

  She sat on the bed, watching him carefully.

  "Do you miss Karen?" She insisted, needing an answer.

  "Why are you so concerned? Why now?"

  "She has never been away this long. She’s never celebrated her birthday without us. I thought you had time to think…"

  "I've been thinking for the last twenty-two years, Martha!" he protested, raising his voice. "I've been trying to sort it out for this long and it still doesn't make any sense! What do you want to hear? I'll say anything you want."

  He had managed to avoid the question once again, she thought dejectedly as they fell silent again.

  "What are her plans?" he asked, breaking the silence.

  "They're throwing her a party tonight. Saturday she'll be touring the area. She'll be in Tel Aviv next weekend; then she is off to Greece."

  "Who are they?"

  "Her friends, Paul!" she stormed at him. "She has quite a few and they make her happy!" She hated his need to be in control.

  "I'm sorry…"

  "Don't apologize," she cut him off, "you'll be at it again tomorrow."

  They were silent again. He walked in and sat on the bed next to her taking her hand. She looked up. There were tears in her eyes.

  "Why, why can't you accept them?" she pleaded.

  He looked into her eyes. He desperately wanted to make her happy but too much had happened.

  There was no turning back.

&n
bsp; CHAPTER 4

  The white Volvo was parked on the side of the main road facing north, just outside the kibbutz. Two men inside, sat quietly, intently watching the exit. The windows were rolled half way, letting the cigarette smoke and bad odor filter out.

  Raul reached back for the thermos and poured himself another cup. The coffee was getting cold. They had been sitting there since dawn, waiting, watching.

  "Are you sure about the car, Mustafa?" he asked his partner, speaking Hebrew with a slight accent.

  "Blue, 1975, four-door Subaru," Mustafa answered in Arabic. They both spoke fluent Arabic, Hebrew, and English.

  "Any idea where they're heading?" Raul pressed on.

  "Supposedly north, but we will follow where ever they go. Where is Suliman?"

  "In the orange grove, two kilometers south of the village, just off the main road."

  "Does he have the truck?"

  "He better…!" Mustafa blurted, smiling dangerously at his accomplice.

  Raul sat back and lit another cigarette. The plan seemed good, but he was nervous. It was a dangerous mission, much more complicated than previous ones. He looked at his partner. They had worked together for years and he trusted him with his life. Mustafa was big and heavy. His thick black mustache was curled at the ends like that of a Turkish legionnaire. Strong as an ox, vicious as a bloodhound, and with his six-foot two-inch frame, he towered over most people in the region. Raul was the only one to ever see him smile.

  He checked his watch again. It was 8:37 AM. He closed his eyes and began to envision every step of their scheme one more time. It wasn't long before Mustafa's elbow startled him out of his trance. The blue Subaru exited the kibbutz and headed north.

  It was Saturday, May 26, 1984.

  -------

  It was a glorious morning. Karen was watching Mikki skillfully maneuver the car on the dangerously narrow, winding road. The Northern Galilee main highway was only slightly better than a dirt road, with one narrow lane in each direction and no shoulder margins. The car was rattling and shaking as it flew by the humps and holes.

  Karen didn't care. She was exhilarated. It was just her and Mikki, alone for the entire day. She looked out. Most of the scenery was blocked by huge Eucalyptus trees along both sides of the road.

  "The trees,” Mikki explained, “were planted there for a reason. First to help the settlers dry the swamps then to hide vehicle movement from Syrian artillery positioned right above on the Golan Heights, until we took it during the Six Day War."

  In between the trees, Karen could see the rich farmland. Cultivated cotton fields stretched out for miles with grape vines, apple and orange groves sporadically adding green and depth to the predominantly leveled terrain. The hills on both sides of the valley were covered with flowers. She rolled down her window and felt the air clean and fresh, closed her eyes and took a deep breath enjoying the wonderful spring scents.

  They were entering the town of Kiryat Shmona. Nestled at its northern end, it served as the agricultural hub of the Hula Valley. During workdays it was filled with commotion: factory workers lunching, trucks delivering produce, buses loaded with soldiers, merchants wheeling and dealing, a busy market place with hustlers and beggars, mothers shopping, their kids roaming around, and ear piercing police sirens from time to time.

  Saturdays, the streets were deserted. The blue Subaru cruised down the main street through the center of town before Mikki made an abrupt turn into a small hidden street. He guided the car through the narrow side streets wheels screeching, making tight turns, and came to an abrupt halt in front of a small, run down building. Jumping out of the car, he hopped over its front to Karen's side, opened her door, and stood at attention.

  "Welcome to Salim's Bakery," he announced as Karen stepped out of the car.

  She couldn't resist. She threw her hands around him and kissed him hard on the mouth. Mikki staggered back a bit, but held his own as they engaged in a long, erotic kiss.

  "Mikki... Mikki... you conniving, scheming dog, you ungrateful slob…"

  Karen turned around, a little surprised to see a round, heavyset man with a white baker's hat and a filthy apron, standing at the entrance with a silly grin on his kind face, mumbling words she could not understand.

  Mikki smiled and went to greet him.

  "Karen, meet Salim, the world's greatest bun and pita maker!"

  Salim took her hand in his greasy palms and shook it warmly. He then led them into the bakery. The place was hot and filled with white flour dust. Karen could see rows of buns, loaves of bread, and pitas, inside the blazing ovens. Two dark-skinned youths worked around a large wooden table, preparing the dough. In the next room, a heavyset woman and a couple of girls were putting the ready-made bread into paper bags and into small wooden crates, which were being loaded by two other dark-skinned youths, onto a delivery truck. The place was filthy but the smell of fresh baked bread was mouthwatering.

  They sat on a carpet around a small dusty table, Salim muttering a few words in the direction of the women. The heavy set woman got up and left the room. She came back after a few minutes with a pot full of black coffee, a tray of freshly baked buns, butter and goat cheese. Salim reached under the table and produced three small ceramic cups. He poured the coffee and offered them the buns and spreads. The combination had a heavenly taste.

  The bakery was a family operation, Karen learned. The heavyset woman was Salim's wife, the youths were his children and the truck driver was his brother. The bakery was first opened by Salim's father in the 1920s. It supplied all the Arab villages in the region before the Jewish settlers moved in. When Salim took over in 1955, it was the Jewish settlements that provided him with most of the work. Many of his Arab clients disapproved but he never mixed business with religious and political beliefs. He was a businessman and a survivor. Mikki first met him when he assisted on the kibbutz's bread delivery truck. They would come in every morning at 4:00 to pick up the fresh bread for the day. Salim would offer them coffee and they would sit and chat for a while before driving back. They became friends. Mikki would come in whenever he was in the area.

  Salim insisted on grasping the essence of their relationship and wouldn't let them leave until he had all the facts. Mikki had taken on the role of a translator communicating the baker's most sensitive questions to Karen who took an instant liking to the kind old baker and his hard working family. Salim's wife packed some pitas and buns for them as they were getting ready to leave. Salim hugged them both as they left the bakery and stood there, leaning against the door, smiling and waving goodbye, as they sped away.

  They were back on the main road heading north, having left the sleepy town behind. Mikki turned east at the Beit-Hilel intersection, and shortly after began to climb the steep mountain range of the Golan. The road was extremely narrow and the turns were sharp. Several army vehicles nearly ran them off the road. Karen let out a sigh of relief as they reached the top. Mikki smiled at her reassuringly as he eased the car off the road, parking dangerously close to the edge of a cliff. They got out and walked to the edge.

  The view was breathtaking. The Hula valley lay below in all its glory. Karen could see the farm land divided into squares and rectangles. Spring was everywhere. The fertile ground was green, the Jordan River a slender snake, crawling lazily along, splitting the valley in half. Dirt roads crisscrossed the entire valley in all directions. Tractors and farm vehicles could be seen working the land. Most of the settlements were clearly visible. Opposite stood the stern Naftali Mountains.

  "This is what the Syrians saw before the ‘67 war," Mikki was explaining, "we were sitting ducks. Can you see the main highway?"

  The line of Eucalyptus trees hiding the main highway was clearly contrasted against the flat farmland. Karen could see bright reflections of light from cars passing between the trees.

  "You could throw a stone and hit those tractors working the fields," Mikki continued, but Karen wasn't paying much attention, enjoying a sense of freedom she ha
d never felt before. For the first time in her life she was on her own, free to deal with life without scrutiny. She felt she could accomplish anything if she could only break the invisible umbilical cord that kept pulling at her, repressing her aspirations. She wanted to preserve the feeling for as long as possible but knew it would only last a few precious moments. She glanced at Mikki. His curly brown hair fluttered backward in the wind exposing his high forehead. His face was tanned and rugged. His demeanor seemed rough but his touch was gentle. She loved his straightforward manner. He shared everything with her without fear.

  She suddenly felt very aware, as if looking at herself from the outside. Too much of a good thing, she thought, as childhood memories began to creep back in. Mikki felt it and moved closer. He put his arm around her shoulders and held her tightly. They stood silent for a while, light breeze caressing their faces.

  "You're in one of those moods again," he remarked, sensing her, trying to be gentle. She nodded and stuck her head in his neck, feeling his pulse. She put both her hands around his waist and grasped him tightly.

  "What is it, Karen?"

  The pain was back. "It's complicated Mikki, leave it alone."

  He wasn't convinced. He took her by the shoulders and put her at arm's length, looking straight into her eyes. "It's happened too many times for me to leave it alone. It seems to come between us every time we get close. It hurt us the first time we met and it still does!"

  She felt anguish. He was reaching out but she couldn't respond.

  "Karen, let me in, please.." he pleaded. "What is so horrible that you won't share with me? You know everything about me, why can't you let me into your world?"

  "It's dark, Mikki," she shot back in a low, frightened voice. He was taken aback. She could tell he was startled by her reaction. She was too, but she kept going. "It's a sick and frightening world Mikki, full of lies and abuse. It belongs to power hungry people who cover everything with money."