by Rose Fox
Montazr looked at the floor, see and does not understand how Yusuf falls to his death. The tiny second of this delay was enough for karma to peek through the window and pull the trigger again.
Without checking to see if he had made another hit, Karma jumped into the room and disappeared through the door, without glancing at the two dead men, who were left behind in his room. As he fled and went down to the parking lot, he wondered whether he should have paused to search them to find out who they were and who sent them. He continued running because he also knew that he had little time and if he delayed and stayed in the room he was likely to miss the boat that was now anchored in the Italian port.
What he didn’t know was that the assignment had already been canceled. He also did not know that the bomb in the car he was about to enter had already been neutralized and would never explode and that the target no longer existed.
Karma had also not been updated about the incident that had occurred on the Czech border near the Fiano forest, where his brother-in-law, Effendi Khaidar, had been shot to death by the Revolutionary Guards.
* * *
The matter of Timmy was raised at a meeting of the Organization.
“Someone has to replace him as the program cannot be stopped because of one person.”
“What about Michael, his father? Perhaps he can continue the surveillance and support of the ‘Noodle’?” San suggested. “I shall invite him here today.”
“Are you certain? I don’t think he is up to it.”
And, indeed, Michael did not agree to come. He made various excuses, but an hour later he appeared at the office, sat down with an expressionless demeanor.
“Michael, we thought it might be meaningful to you to complete the assignment that Timmy began,” Barak explained, hoping to arouse his interest. Michael blew his nose in response.
“Just because the job is so important, it seems to me that you should take someone else, someone whose spirit is stronger than mine.” He looked at those present and then added a second later:
“But, tell me what Timmy was supposed to do.”
“He was expected to reach the ship “Ankara” to accompany the ‘Noodle’ on the assignment. Lucy will also go there. But, we understand, for you it is difficult.”
“Hey, I am finished.” He stopped and suddenly his voice broke.
“Do you want to hear my truth? I don’t see that Timmy’s death served any purpose. It was just a waste of life, and for what?!”
He raised his voice and when Barak laid his hand on his arm, he shouted even louder.
“No, don’t try and placate me. I tell you that all is vanity. They will continue hitting us, we will attempt to outsmart them, we will lose people who are dear to us and…”
“Stop, Michael, go home, we will talk some other time,” and, in his heart of hearts he thought it was a great mistake to bring Michael here today.
“No, you see you haven’t understood? Perhaps I said things that didn’t suit you, but it’s the truth and it’s the reason I’m informing you that I am resigning from the organization.”
Barak sighed. He didn’t know how to tell him that there is no such thing as a resignation from the ‘Mossad.' He would belong to it forever and it was impossible to stop and get off the merry go round. He stared at Michael and added in a casual tone:
“Once in the ‘Mossad’ – always in the ‘Mossad.'”
Michael laughed drily.
“Yes there was a movie like that and, if I’m not mistaken it was called “Once a thief – always a thief.”
“Precisely,” Barak commented, “I was just afraid that you would say: “The thief’s end is to swing on the gallows” and San completed his remarks adding:
“That’s also true, but it’s a different movie.”
Michael stood up exhausted and walked towards the door and before he went out, he said:
“I wanted to tell you something about Lucy, who found Timmy. She said she came too late to help, so I want to let her know that she did help. So, tell her that…” his face grew red and he turned his face away from them and left.
San said: “I understood him. He was suggesting that we give the job to Naima.”
“I also think so. It’s a big job.”
* * *
Abigail reached the port at ten o’clock at night.
She waited till eleven o’clock when, according to the plan, she was to board the ship, ‘Ankara’ and set sail for Turkey. She had not been updated with an important fact. Karma, her husband, was also supposed to board the same ship with his motor car.
Her assignment was to meet with a Turkish agent and receive instructions and material in preparation for an operation named “Water”. What she knew was that she had been appointed to deal with the issue of the ‘heavy water’ that flows in the Iranian reactors.
“I hope you took into account that I will be giving birth to my son at the new location.”
“No, that wasn’t taken into consideration.”
She exhaled and thought what she should say when she heard the answer.
“It will happen long before he is born.”
“Just don’t forget that you will board the ship that sails at eleven o’clock. Come early, in case there are any last-minute changes.”
“I’ll be there,” she confirmed.
Now Abigail waited in the Italian Gulf, on the shores of the Adriatic Sea.
An off-putting odor of sewage wafted in the air and drunken singing came from a nearby building. Even under cover of dark, there was much milling around and through the windows she saw figures in a haze of cigarette and cannabis smoke. She yawned and listened disinterestedly to an argument between a client and a yellow-haired prostitute wearing cut-off shorts that revealed long shapely thighs. Nearby, the arm of a crane unloaded a pallet piled with sacks. It laid them on a wooden surface, then turned back to the loaded deck of the ship, that rolled on the swell of the water near the pier.
A young man appeared out of nowhere leading a long-eared donkey to the palette of sacks and loaded two of them on his donkey’s back. Suddenly a slim fellow came on the scene. He ran holding an unsheathed knife in his extended hand and plunged it into the sack on top. A white substance began flowing out of it into a vessel he pushed beneath it. The owner of the donkey wielded a stick at him and a noisy squabble broke out between them, but no one intervened. The two of them fell on the ground, fighting wildly until one of them shouted a bloodcurdling scream. The skinny guy got up from the ground, picked up the vessel which already filled to the brim and ran away with it like a madman. The donkey owner was left lying in the field, a rivulet of blood flowing from his leg onto the filthy earth.
A policeman appeared out of one of the alleys and bent over the fellow writhing on the ground and Abigail raised her brow in surprise. She tried to find where the policeman had come from and wondered if there were more policeman in the area of the port.
As he speeded to the harbor, Karma knew that he only ten minutes left till the ship was set to sail and he estimated that he still needed another twenty minutes to get there. He stopped on the roadside and called Ian’s phone number, which he had received two days earlier when the two men had delivered this car to him. He didn’t know that the man was on the ferry, his car was soon to be loaded on.
Ian’s phone rang at his waist and vibrated against his skin. Since he was preoccupied for the moment getting the last cars loaded on board the ferry, he ignored it and did not pick up the call. At that moment, Ian was directing a dreary-looking ‘Lada’ to continue on the short bridge leading to the ferry when the telephone on his hip rang again.
“Yes,” he answered impatiently.
“Hello Ian, I’m about twenty kilometers from the port with a car that is sailing on the ‘Ankara.' Please wait for me.”
“Fine,” he blurted out. “I’ll wait for five minutes and don’t call here again.”
For a second, he thought about what car was being referred to and who t
he caller was. He put the phone back on his hip and continued directing the last vehicles, without giving the matter any further thought.
About five kilometers from them was the gigantic ship ‘Ankara’, waiting for the cars on this ferry to be loaded on it.
When Karma entered the area of the port, Abigail was sitting on a large rock on the pier. She gazed with no particular interest in the silver luxury car that slowed down and progressed towards the ferry loaded with cars. The light that shone out of the windows of the bar illuminated the face of the driver inside and then she tensed. It was Karma, her husband, and with that, things became apparent to her. She understood that he was the man who was delivering the “Bentley” that was identical to the one Timmy had sat in. She also recalled that it contained a bomb set to explode at a quarter past eleven.
At first she froze and a second later she got up and screamed his name, but he didn’t hear her and didn’t turn towards her. Suddenly, two people approached her, caught her arms and pulled her back. One of them covered her mouth. She bit his hand and kicked him wildly and heard him yell out in pain but then, felt a prick in her arm, her muscles relaxed and everything went dark. The two men dragged her to a car and drove off at once, making their way between hundreds of vehicles in the bustling plaza of the port.
“Is she alright?”
“Yes, Michael, just a little sleepy.”
The change in the assignment and the personnel occurred two days after the meeting at the office. Michael approached and asked to be added to the team of “Operation Bentley,” especially after he understood that Naima was also a member. Meanwhile, changes were made to the plan because Effendi Khaidar had been killed by the Italian police.
“Did you cancel?” Michael asked, “Because Khaidar was killed? What about Lucy? You said she was involved in this.”
“Correct, she’s on her way to the ship, ‘Ankara,' to prepare for the operation.” And he said nothing more.
“Hey, did you consider that she might meet up with her husband, the ‘Noodle,' at the port?”
“Of course,” San remarked, “That’s why you’re going there to arrange to keep them apart.”
He ignored Barak’s surprised expression because, just on this second, he got the idea that it was with his approval. Now he understood that they had forgotten a possible meeting of the couple at the port. However, then a problem arose.
“We should remove the bomb from the car that is parked at the Italian hotel and, of course, not inform the ‘Noodle’ about it.”
“Correct,” Barak confirmed.
A spark of light appeared in San’s only eye and he was enthusiastic.
“That means that the ‘Noodle’ will set out as planned to the port, not knowing that the bomb in his car is about to explode. He will board the ‘Ankara’ in the Italian Gulf and will disappear in the Turkish-Gulf, alive and well.”
“Bravo!” Foxy added, “The man will finally be frozen and, perhaps, we can bring him to Israel, eh?”
Barak threw him a surly glance and they all chuckled. They all knew very well that Barak was in love with the agent.
“What’s up!?” Michael teased him, “His wife is pregnant. He deserves time off from the grind till the birth of the Kurdish Crown Prince,” and he laughed when he saw Barak squirming in his chair.
Of course, they didn’t know that after Effendy disappeared from the area the members of ‘Kaukab’ had changed their plan and decided to kill Karma.
In the Italian port, Karma continued driving the “Bentley” and progressed slowly up the bridge to the ferry. As soon as Ian noticed the car and the driver he turned to one side and sent a message to Aziz, the man who had replaced Rulam in the organization.
“The Kurd has just arrived in his car.”
The response was immediate.
“Lose him.”
Ian didn’t waste a moment to think. He bent down behind the rear wheels of the silver car and removed the metal strip that prevents the car from slipping backward.
The ferry that was loaded with vehicles drew closer to the ship ‘Ankara’ and the bridge was slowly extended from the gaping opening in its stern and connected to it. The cars drove over the bridge and one after another disappeared into the hold of the ship. The luxury silver car was the last in the line and when the ferry was empty and the last car had been swallowed by the gigantic gaping mouth of the ship, Ian was standing two meters from Karma.
He put his hand in his trouser pocket and fired only one round from his revolver, almost without aiming and using a silencer. He saw the flinching of his shoulder and the look of surprise on the face of the driver inside.
Without the reinforcement and the brake on the wheels, the car began to roll back and Ian pressed the sole of his shoe on the headlight and pushed hard. He watched how it slipped back, its undercarriage hit the end of the bridge and overturned. With the four wheels faced upwards, it floated initially for a few seconds and sank as large bubbles were released and burst on the surface of the water. Within ten seconds, even the silhouette of the car was gone.
Ian raised his arm ordering the bridge to be rolled into the ship and the closing of the opening. He transmitted a short message:
“It’s all in the water.”
The response on his telephone was:
“Well done!”
One of the workers on the shore saw the car overturn into the water and screamed on top of his voice. An emergency assistance raft was quickly sent to the scene while, in the distance, the ‘Ankara’ was still visible. Within minutes, the Italian Coast Guard called in reinforcements and a ship to which a large crane was attached, arrived at the location where Ian’s car ferry was estimated to have been.
Four divers boarded the raft, dived into the water and after a long while, the large, silver car was pulled out of the water, hanging on a huge hook. A great deal of water poured out of it. The crane lowered the car slowly and when it reached the shore, they looked inside. It was empty and no living soul was found inside it.
This created a mystery. Where was the driver who drove the car to the ferry? They made immediate contact with the ship that had already disappeared over the horizon.
“Is a car missing on board or does someone on board your vessel claims his car is missing?”
“We know nothing about a missing car. All the cars listed are on board the ship. Everything is in order.”
In the meanwhile, the car in which Abigail was asleep raced along the darkened roads.
Michael glanced at the rear of the car, at Abigail with her eyes closed, as she leaned against Antonio, the Italian.
“You also have a great bargain here,” he said and indicated by moving his chin in Abigail’s direction.
“Did you see what a fight she put up? If not for the sedative shot, she would have put one of us out of action for a long time.”
“Or put us on the list of people getting disability grants from National Insurance and even from PTA in the future.”
“Good, so why do you think I sent you to her?”
“You’re behaving evasively but hey, was there a chance she wouldn’t have spotted the ‘Noodle’?”
“Absolutely not, there’s no chance that one would miss anything,” Michael stated. “To tell the truth, there were moments when I worried if the ‘Noodle’ would get there because he was late, which is unusual for him.”
After driving for an hour, Abigail woke up and heard what was being said in the car. She kept her eyes shut and her ears cocked to listen and understand what was happening and where she was at that moment.
Twenty minutes later, they passed through the streets of Fiumicino, the coastal down near to the Da Vinci airport and they parked at a public parking lot. Michael took out an airline ticket he had prepared, a one-way ticket – to Baku in Azerbaijan and left it on the front seat from which he got up. The thought that had just occurred to him was that he was also bringing her closer to home, in preparation for the big operation that awaited her.
He didn’t know that Abigail was completely awake and heard everything.
“Come, friends, let’s get out of here before she wakes up and hears us.”
The three men got out of the car and closed the doors carefully. Abigail waited a minute longer until the sound of their footsteps faded.
When she opened the driver’s door, she suddenly remembered the last image she had seen, which remained engraved in her memory – the sight of Karma, sitting in the luxurious car at the port.
Now she was confused and worried.
Why had they neutralized her and removed her from the area? What happened to the bomb that had been placed in the glove compartment of the car, the one that was supposed to explode at a quarter past eleven?
* * *
Lethal Blow
Karim received a call last night from Barak.
“Hello, my man. Lucy will land at the Baku airport at six-thirty on Saturday.”
“Okay. What’s the flight number? By the way, how are you?”
“Everything is fine, dear fellow. She will arrive on ‘Pan Mussolini’, Flight 26621. Instruct her in preparation for the assignment.”
“No problem, it’ll be my pleasure,” he countered. “It will be an unusually enjoyable task for me.” He could not see Barak frowning when he heard this.
They had prepared him for a long time to train her for the reactor assignment. He was delighted to have been chosen for the job because it was a golden opportunity to get closer to Abigail. He had been suppressing his feelings for years, ever since he first saw her. Karim knew that it is possible to marry more than one wife but, he also knew that Alice, his wife, would not be able to bear it. He recalled how jealous he was that Karma had won her heart and shelved his dream. That was what he thought the moment he heard the message but, then, he heard Barak say something.
“I asked that you be the person to tell her that Karma is missing.”