Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again

by Rose Fox

  A gray car speeded up and stopped with a shriek of brakes. The driver got out, left the door open and the motor running. Abigail did not hesitate for a second, climbed inside, put the car into gear and sped away, chasing after the vehicle that had hit the pedestrian. She ignored the wild gestures of the driver she had left behind.

  At this hour, the traffic was sparse and within a minute or two she saw the car she was chasing driving very fast. She overtook cars on her right and on her left as she crossed the white line running down the center of the road.

  She saw a truck in the opposite lane approaching her and on a snap decision Abigail swerved in front of the dark car, cut in front of it sharply and slammed on the brakes all at once. In her rear-view mirror, she saw that the car she had just overtaken was trying to stop. It came right up to her and to avoid colliding into her back, swerved into the lane of the oncoming traffic, in front of the truck.

  As a result of the collision, the dark vehicle overturned on its side and shot over to the nearby ravine on the shoulder of the road. Abigail drew up at the side and ran to it. She looked at the driver and choked back her cry of amazement. The driver was Emir, the clerk from the ‘Chai Huneh’ Inn. Abigail had no idea that he had been following her for several days.

  There was not a drop of blood to be seen in the car but Emir lay motionless and shards of broken glass from the windows were strewn all over. Abigail leaned through the shattered window and whispered:

  “You wanted to meet me – well, now we’ve met.”

  The driver of the truck in the collision ran after her,

  “Are you alright?” he inquired, and she nodded, mumbled something and returned to the car she had been driving. She made a wide U-turn and returned to the place she had left a few minutes earlier. The crowd milled around the injured man, who had been hit and she saw the driver of the car she had appropriated and was driving. He ran to her, waved his fist and yelled:

  “What the hell is going on here? Why did you take my car?!”

  “I was confused, I don’t know what happened to me,” she said and looked down apologetically. She smiled the most ingratiating smile she could come up with and continued in gentle tones:

  “If you’re willing, I would be happy to travel on from here with you.”

  “Oh, really?” He stared at her and responded. “Now, I’m confused. Well, okay, move over to the passenger seat.”

  Of course, she didn’t know that he was one of the agents, who had been sent to keep an eye on her, and he also noticed today’s attempt on her life on the sidewalk.

  An ambulance siren was heard in the distance and Abigail urged him to make haste,

  “Let’s get away from here before they involve us in this accident, too.”

  The car got on its way though they were compelled to stop behind a line of cars that moved ahead slowly. When they passed near the site of the accident between the truck and the dark car, the driver clicked his tongue sadly.

  “Tzk, tzk…What is happening today? Has everyone gone mad?”

  Abigail laughed briefly and followed how the slain driver was being removed from the dark-colored car, with interest. An ambulance siren was sounded behind them, and the driver maneuvered a way through the row of vehicles, as he still looked around. Only then, did he turn to Abigail and ask:

  “Where were you planning to go, Madam?”

  His face looked youthful in spite of the gray that peppered his hair and beard. Abigail peered at him and hesitated whether to tell him that her final destination was – Bushehr. She pulled a banknote out of her sleeve and waved it in front of his eyes, and as the driver glanced at it, she said:

  “I am sure that you won’t be able to take me further than the village of Ardabil on the border with Iran, right?

  “Oh, without question,” he said. “I want you to know that I admire independent women and it will be my pleasure to take you.”

  He put the bill in his pocket right away, glanced at her again and introduced himself:

  “My name is Salamas. What’s yours?

  “Naima,” she replied, straightened her hijab on her head and tucked away a curl from her perspiring forehead.

  “Naima, Naima,” he rolled her name on his tongue, “I have a daughter your age and two little grandsons from her. Now, I ask myself, whether…”

  He glanced at her again and looked back at the road. Salamas was making an effort to play the role of a man who had arrived on the scene by chance.

  “You’re right. My husband died this week and I am returning to Iran, to my empty home,” she told him the first thing that came into her mind. When they passed by the village of Chalus, she wondered whether to suggest to the driver that they stop at an inn.

  “Salamas,” she ventured hesitantly, “I was embarrassed to sit in a café. You know, as a woman… but now that you’re with me, if you are willing…”

  “Of course, with pleasure,” he answered gallantly and slowed down. He looked out for a café and found one at an intersection.

  Before they got out of the car, Abigail pulled another banknote out of her sleeve and gave it to him with a shy smile, mumbling something about it being on account of her beverage.

  He ordered and also paid for the order of tea and sandwiches they ate with the bill and by eight they were back in the car again.

  They drove along the east coast of the Caspian Sea, passed Nastarud, then Bandar Anzali, and drove along the winding road between hills that hides and reveals the sea round the bends in the road. Abigail yawned out loud and when he stared at her, she laughed apologetically.

  After an hour and a half, they drove onto the shoulder of the road and stopped. The driver pointed to a sign that showed they had reached the border, but he left the engine running. He turned to Abigail with a wordless question.

  ‘Yes, I know, we’ve arrived,” she said as she opened the door slightly.

  Three soldiers stood at a border post in a hut some fifty yards away. They stared at the stationary car and Abigail spoke quietly as she did not look at Salamas:

  “I will pay you two more bills if you agree to continue with me to Astara.”

  “Close the door and let’s go,” he told her, “I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere and I have time.”

  It never occurred to her that Salamas was doing everything to help her reach her destination and knew it was Bushehr.

  Twenty minutes later they reached the coastal town of Ardabil and entered its narrow streets. A trickle of muddy water flowed down the road and filthy children in ragged clothes ran around the puddles. Two women watched out for them from the entrances to the shabby houses. Wash lines were stretched between the rows of houses, on which clothes and rags fluttered in the wind.

  The car progressed very slowly in the wake of two goats and a kid skipping beside them in the middle of the road, being hurried on by a child wielding a branch. They passed a woman, sitting on a stool at the entrance of one of the houses. She was milking a large nannygoat whose enormous udders almost reached the ground.

  A road sign at the corner showed the way to the town of Astara. The driver drew up to the side of the road and stopped as he said:

  “Yes, we’ve arrived, but Salamas says that one doesn’t leave a woman alone in the middle of the town,” and she replied with a smile:

  “And Naima says thank you very much to Salamas and that it will suffice her if he brings her to the station from which the train to Baku travels.”

  “Ah, a train? That’s absolutely fine.”

  When they arrived, Abigail turned the driver to give him another bill to reward him for his efforts and their hands bumped, because he wanted to return a bill to her. They both burst out laughing.

  “I want to tell you that you are a unique woman and I pray that Allah will bless you and find a good new man for you, and also…” Here he hesitated a little before he continued, “Yes, and that your endeavors meet with success.”

  It seemed to Abigail that she noticed moisture
shining in his eyes.

  * * *

  All was already dark when the train stopped at the station in Baku. She knew it was still a long way to Bushehr and she debated how to continue the journey.

  The train left and Abigail thought of boarding a different one or even proceeding by sea. She decided to check it out, shrugged her shoulders and walked towards the shore.

  At the shore, she breathed in the salty sea air, took off her shoes and dug her bare feet into the grains of sand. She felt the warmth was left inside the sand from the ended day's sun.

  In front of her, dots of light winked from distant ships and the shadows of fishing vessels rocked on the water. The wind changed direction and turned cold and Abigail shivered.

  Light was projected on the sand from buildings in the distance. Voices, music and laughter coming out of them reached her ears. Abigail thought about going to them. Perhaps she could arrange to sail on a ship there, but she feared it might be a gathering place frequented by shady characters.

  A sudden idea entered her head that she might get help from people familiar with navigation and sailing. They might have heard or seen someone that would provide the missing piece of the puzzle she needed with regard to Karma’s disappearance at sea. She carried on barefoot, and when she reached the line between light and dark, the voices grew less audible. She realized they must have noticed her but, a minute later the wild singing was renewed, and the authoritative voice of a woman rose above it.

  “Hey, you there, come here! It’s warm here and we’re having fun!”

  Abigail went ahead, swinging her shoes in her hand. When she entered the circle of light, the voices grew still again. In the background, a song continued playing that told of a woman abandoned on a beach, crying and filled with longing for her sailor, who sailed away at dawn.

  A large, full-bodied woman, wearing a dark galabiya, came and pulled her into the building. The smell of fish filled her nostrils and made Abigail nauseous and she pulled her hand away from her, slipped outside and threw up in the sand.

  Now, she felt embarrassed to return and found no relief from the dizziness. It was also so cold that she returned to the building and apologized that she was feeling ill. The large woman pushed her with her elbow and shouted out loud:

  “Oh, oh, what did you drink? Tell us. Don’t be shy,” and she laughed out loud.

  In spite of her size, she swayed and swung with great charm, shaking her big hips to the beat of the melodies and the laughter of the people around her.

  Abigail’s legs trembled and she sat on a wooden chair. Someone put a warm pita in front of her and she tore a piece out of it with her teeth, chewed it and felt relieved. The woman leaned against the wall and stared at her from there with curiosity and suspicion. Abigail stared back at her and asked quietly if there was a ship sailing to the town of Naka. She took care not to mention her final destination – Bushehr, the town adjacent to Naka.

  “Naka? If I’m not mistaken, my Ian leaves tomorrow for San, which is close to Naka,” the woman said. "That rascal is asleep in the hut above, but don’t worry, when he gets hungry enough, He’ll come down here.”

  The last thing Abigail could possibly have known was that Ian was the man who had shot Karma and pushed his car into the water

  Abigail was dead tired. She rested her arm on the table, laid her head on it and fell asleep after a minute. The laughter and the shrill music did not disturb her. Nor was she bothered by the stamping feet of the men who got up to dance and hop to the loud music and added drunken, out of tune voices to the songs.

  The music stopped at three in the morning and the last stragglers departed, leaving empty plates and papers strewn in every corner. No one gave a thought for Abigail, who was still asleep at the table.

  The gray morning of a new day began uncertainly and illuminated the filth and discarded bottles lying around that bore witness to what had gone on here yesterday. Abigail woke up.

  An icy wind blew in from the sea, whining and shaking the shreds of curtains hanging over the murky window and nausea rocked her stomach. The smell of burning oil intensified it, but she was so hungry that she stood up and followed the trail of the smell and saw a large, really enormous man. Muscles bulged on his broad arms and hinted at his strength and the pan he shook over the fire, looked like a toy in his massive hand.

  “May I join you for dinner?” Abigail asked and burst out laughing when the tough looking guy jumped in fright and almost dropped the pan.

  “Hey, Madam, you shouldn’t do that!” his voice thundered.

  She was still standing in the doorway when she noticed the tattoo on his arm that nudged her memory. It was a drawing of a snake climbing up the tendrils of a vine. He invited her to sit on the only chair there. From behind her she heard the dragging of legs and the large woman, who had welcomed her the evening before, entered the kitchen. When she saw Abigail, she paused for a second and turned to speak to her in an angry tone.

  “Hi, good for you, Madam, have you woken up? I see you knew exactly where to go, ha!”

  “Don’t pay attention to her, my beauty,” the man roared, “Crazy Eileen is jealous as usual.”

  “No problem, Ian, have you forgotten?! I have Salamas, who is always ready to take your place.”

  Abigail’s mouth dropped open and she asked at once:

  “Salamas? Is he here?”

  Ian pointed to Abigail and shouted at the woman:

  “Here, if you please, do you see what good taste Salamas has? He’s no idiot and that’s a fact!”

  “This is my husband,” Eileen stated and narrowed her eyes when she looked at Abigail,

  “You don’t really know, Salamas, do you?”

  “No, not really,” Abigail hurriedly replied, trying to avoid getting involved in the couple’s argument.

  On this moment she recalled the drawing on the two jugs in the basement of the mosque on her wedding day and the tattoo Karma had seen on the arm of the motorcyclist who attempted ride into him and San in Arizona. She took a step back and her eyes opened wide.

  “See how you’ve frightened our guest,” Ian roared, “Shut up, woman!”

  Abigail stared at the man and saw with horror that a turquoise star shone on the back of his hand between his thumb and index finger. She realized that she was facing a bitter enemy, a member of the ‘Kaukab’ and the very thought of that shook her. She wondered whether to stay or go but, Ian seemed to be warm and understanding towards her and his pleasant demeanor prevented her from categorizing him as an enemy.

  She decided to ignore the warning signs – an error she would have reason to regret.

  Abigail sat down to their meal and when they finished eating, he shouted in his loud voice:

  “Eileen, we’re leaving!” And, speaking more gently to Abigail, he said:

  “Come, my lovely one, let’s get on our way!

  Eileen boiled with rage. She waited a few minutes, then called Aziz, the Number Three man in the ‘Kaukab’ organization. She told him that a woman arrived last night, who had joined Ian aboard the ‘Urmia’ and whose destination was Naka.

  “So, what?” Aziz tried to understand.

  “Nothing, I just thought it was strange… she knows Salamas, and she’s also gorgeous, so…”

  “What does she look like and why did she come to your station at night?”

  “I don’t know, but I noticed her making eyes at my Ian. She’s tall and has almost colorless eyes and…”

  “Oh, Eileen, you’re the best! We will deal with this immediately” and before they finished talking, she hear Aziz announce:

  “You can sleep peacefully. Ian will be all yours and won’t leave you for that woman with the translucent eyes.”

  He called Hussein right away and exclaimed joyfully:

  “You won’t believe this! That bitch has fallen into our hands. Do you remember the one who got away from Aisha and Gerard at the prison of the condemned?”

  “Is that so? Have you caught
her?”

  “Almost. Right now she’s on Ian’s ship and I’m going to inform him who he has with him and to send a helicopter to the Naka port with at a unit of at least six men, to be led by Abas.”

  “Hey, a helicopter plus six? Aren’t you overdoing it?”

  “Pal, I’m not taking any chances. I don’t plan to lose her this time.”

  “If she’s really the woman, who escaped from that prison, I doubt if six men will be enough. They said that she returned and tried to save two of the others, as well.”

  “Are you being serious?! How did it end?”

  “We killed one of them and the other was already dead, so she left them and got away.”

  “Smart, she left us with the dead bodies,” Hussein added.

  Aziz sent a message to Ian, at once.

  “Call back. You’re in big trouble.”

  Ian read the message. Tense and strung out to the limit, he called Aziz.

  “What now? What trouble I got into?”

  “It seems you have someone on your ship that everyone is looking for and who apparently saw what you did to the driver and the car on the ferry.”

  “Who saw, who spoke?”

  “The wife of the driver you pushed into the water. She’s with you and it appears that our Salamas drove her to Baku, not knowing who she is, of course.”

  “So, how do you know?”

  “We talked to your wife. She told us that a woman, who matched her description, came to your station.” At that moment, Ian calmed down.

  “On, come on, my wife, really! Okay, let’s hear her description.”

  “That’s exactly what we wanted to verify with you. Is the woman tall, with large light-colored eyes and deep dimples in her cheeks?

  “What?! I don’t believe it! That bitch is on my ship. Good thing you called because I will reach Naka in about ten minutes. That’s where she asked to get off.”

  “If it is her, you had better be careful, Ian. She’s excellent fighter and kills wisely, with her bare hands. According to what we know, she’s unarmed and nothing can deter her.” He paused and then, added: