Sugar

by L. Todd Wood

  Natasha walked onto the aircraft. She felt a peace as if a weight had been lifted. She had not been followed, she was sure of that. She wished she could spend some time in Montreal, but that was not possible right now. Perhaps in the future, with Connor when this is all over. It looked like a fun city from what I could see.

  Maybe now she could relax for a while. Not that anyone would recognize her, her appearance was totally different. Her hair was a different color and short. She had even added padding to her cheekbones to hopefully foil any facial recognition software in the airport or at the border crossing. She was in character, no longer a Russian. Yes, she felt safe now, taking comfort in the crowd of passengers around her. The fact that she was surrounded by mothers with screaming kids was consoling somehow. She looked as if she fit right in.

  The flight would be a long one, about fourteen hours. She would have time to think, that was good. She needed to think. But first, she needed to rest. She had booked coach so as not to draw any unwarranted attention to herself. There was not much legroom, and the flight would be difficult to bear, but she was free!

  She missed Connor. She hoped he was doing all right without her. She wanted to explain everything to him, but that would have to wait—wait until she was in South America, all according to their plan B. As the aircraft lifted off, the weight of the past few days caught up with her. Soon she was asleep as the Airbus gained altitude, heading south. She did not wake up until it was time for breakfast and light was peeking through the windows of the aircraft. She went to the toilet after she ate and refreshed herself. Then Natasha prepared herself for meeting her new home.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Connor finally got through security in Chicago and was allowed on the El Al flight. The cute, Jewish flight attendant showed him to his business class seat and informed him of all the amenities provided in the somewhat cramped space. He felt guilty and thought of Natasha as she leaned across him to adjust his seat, her breasts brushing his arm. Easy, tiger. I wonder if they train them to do that. The accoutrements were very luxurious. President Walker’s staff had made the flight arrangements, and Connor didn’t question them. It would be nice not to be cramped next to someone else for the duration of the flight. It was bad enough to be in this petri dish of an aircraft for so long. It’s a germ laboratory, he thought to himself as a woman sneezed on the row behind him. On the other hand, he had a very nice sleeper chair as a benefit. He could feel the stress melt away as he thought about totally relaxing.

  The security had been intense getting on the flight, but Connor was grateful for that. One less thing to worry about, he thought. It was a known fact that El Al never had terrorism issues. They racially profiled everyone and thoroughly investigated every passenger. Connor himself had been interviewed for ten minutes, and he didn’t fit any dangerous profile that he knew of. A small price to pay for safety. The Americans could learn something.

  The flight to Tel Aviv was a long one, over eleven hours. Thank God for the business class seats. At least I can sleep. I don’t know if I could have handled coach. The takeoff was uneventful, and Connor really relaxed for the first time in days. He thought back to the last time he saw Natasha. He had been running on adrenaline the last week and had forced himself not to think of her. However, with eleven hours to kill, not thinking of her was impossible. He hoped she was all right. He missed her, missed holding her at night, missed her companionship. Connor didn’t know what he would do if he lost her. I’m not sure I could handle that. Not again. Why do the women in my life always disappear?

  He had spent several days being pampered at the governor’s cottage on Mackinac Island before heading to Israel. President Walker’s staff had treated him very well. He rested and regained energy lost over the extremely stressful period since Natasha disappeared. He grew stronger every day. At least until the next treatment.

  The thoughts of Natasha wore on him as the flight droned on. He decided to go against his doctor’s orders and asked the cute flight attendant for a glass of Pinot Noir. He figured he could deal with any side effects to his ravaged body over the next ten hours, but he had to get Natasha out of his mind. The wine worked nicely and he quickly drifted off to sleep.

  Connor awoke several hours later to a strange, muffled sound coming from behind him. He sat up in his prostrate sleeper chair, marveled at how comfortable it was, and looked behind to the rear of the business class section. The noise was coming from a group of orthodox Jews who had gathered in the clear area outside the coach galley to pray. How similar they are to the Muslims in prayer, thought Connor. But so different.

  There were at least ten of them, dressed in their orthodox suits and hats. Their payots, or unshaven hair in front of the ears, dangled down in curls. The tzitzyot, long knotted strings, also dangled from their black and white garments, reminding them of their religion. They moved in a concurrent rhythm as they bobbed back and forth, absorbed in their practice and ignoring all around them.

  Connor watched for a while, respecting the observant nature of any people, and then went back to sleep. He didn’t think another wine was advisable.

  The rest of the flight was unremarkable. Connor got a great deal of rest. He thought he should take advantage of any such opportunity, since he may need to exert himself physically in the near future. The scheduling of the fifth treatment had started to trouble him, but he couldn’t afford to be concerned about that now. How am I going to get through this? He had to trust Walker to make the necessary arrangements and ensure his safety. Walker’s chief of staff, Eric Barnard, had personally made it a point to calm Connor’s worries regarding his treatment before he had left the island.

  The Boeing jet began its descent into Israel, and he made his way to the bathroom to wash his hands and face one last time before landing. As he looked out the window near the galley, Connor could see the ocean meet the Levant; the topography was strikingly different from North America. The land was not covered with vegetation and remained a dusty brown in overall color. The blue and white sea was a striking contrast to the shore. Connor sat back in his seat, moved the rear of the chair up, and prepared for landing.

  Sometime later, Connor exited the jetway into the terminal area. The airport was very modern with a great deal of duty-free shopping opportunities. After clearing immigration, Connor negotiated his way through the labyrinth of shops to the open food court area. He was tired and desperately wanted a warm cappuccino. He walked towards a nearby cafe. I made it! He set his bag at a table and made the short distance to the coffee bar to order. Immediately someone tapped him on his shoulder. It was a policeman, and the man pointed towards Connor’s bag.

  “Is that your bag, sir?” asked the officer.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You must not leave it there, we will think it is a bomb. We are very careful here due to our history with terrorism. Please keep your bags with you at all times or they will be destroyed.”

  “Of course,” replied Connor and retrieved his bag. I can understand the nervousness I guess.

  After a quick coffee, as he didn’t check a suitcase, Connor left the terminal and immediately hailed a taxi. Ben Gurion airport was located a ways out of town, so the drive into Tel Aviv was about forty minutes. The land reminded him of New Mexico. Most of the buildings radiated out from the water, as the city had developed over the centuries from the port of Jaffa. Connor could tell it was a very sophisticated, international place with strong ties to the past. The buildings were mostly the same drab brown with splashes of color from the advertisements. The condo complexes grew in number as they approached the center. Artful placement of exotic plants adorned the balconies and courtyards. There seemed to be a youthful energy to Tel Aviv.

  He arrived at the hotel and checked into his room. The space was expansive but not overly luxurious. His meeting was for later in the afternoon, so he unpacked and decided to get some food. The hotel restaurant was on the top of the building beside a rooftop pool. The view of the city and
the ocean was breathtaking. The Mediterranean lapped against the shore a short distance from his window. Connor noticed the myriad of rainwater collection devices dominating the rooftops, in addition to satellite dishes for entertainment. He ate well from the buffet of local fish and vegetables and enjoyed the sunshine for a while. Israel was known for its fresh produce, prepared in a myriad of ways. After a cup of coffee, he headed back to his room.

  After a short, quiet nap, he awoke with the warm breeze off the ocean coming through his window. He was in a quite comfortable, king-size bed that seemed ridiculously large for just one person. Where is she? I wish she was here. He took a shower, dressed, and headed back down to the lobby where the taxi he ordered was waiting.

  “Jaffa,” Connor said to the driver as he climbed in the back seat and shut the door.

  Jaffa, the ancient port city of Jerusalem, thirty miles to the southeast, was the oldest continually inhabited port in the world, dating back four thousand years. The biblical story of Jonah being swallowed by the whale took place after launching his boat from Jaffa. Ancient gardens from the Egyptian Pharaoh Ramses had also been discovered in the old city.

  The metropolis of Tel Aviv had grown out of Jaffa to the north; however, the ancient walled city of Jaffa was restored to its former glory a few decades back. There were numerous romantic, cobbled lanes, artistic shops, restaurants, bars, and excavations. The view looking out over the ocean was quite stunning with Tel Aviv flowing out from behind and to the north of the ancient port.

  Connor got out of the taxi at the base of the walls and began walking up the inclined pathway to enter the archaic citadel. The nightlife was beginning to awaken as the evening approached. Connor could feel the excitement. He made his way through the myriad of pathways, which climbed to the peak of the elevation inside the old fortress, and found the restaurant he was looking for. It sat facing the ocean with a commanding view of the terrain on all sides. He had memorized the old city map he received from the hotel front desk upon arrival. Connor selected a table outside facing the water and waited. It was early evening and the sun was beginning to set. It was a pleasant environment.

  President Walker’s assistant had given him specific instructions on when and where to meet his contact. Now all he had to do was wait for the person to show up. He had no information on their identity and really didn’t know what to expect.

  Forty-five minutes later, Connor was starting to wonder if he had the right place. He looked around often, scanning the patrons of the restaurant and those walking by on the pathway he arrived on but could not spot anyone who looked like a spy. Maybe I’m no good at this. Fifteen minutes later, he considered leaving, as he didn’t want to spend too much time here out in the open. Perhaps this was a wild goose chase. As he looked at his watch, he noticed a woman in her late thirties get up from a nearby table and move his way. She had been there eating quietly for some time, and he had hardly noticed her, which was out of character for him.

  “You have the right place, Mr. Murray,” she said in a thick Arabic accent.

  She was strikingly beautiful, of South Asian descent, and had deeply tanned skin, long dark hair, and piercing blue eyes. She commanded the attention of men walking by. Connor rose to kiss her cheek.

  “Please won’t you join me?” he asked.

  “Why don’t we take a walk?” she offered.

  “Of course.” Connor threw enough shekels on the table to pay the bill and then some, and they blended into the crowd outside the entrance to the restaurant. The night was approaching, and Jaffa was a big center for Israeli socializing. They would be invisible to anyone attempting to follow them.

  They walked silently for a while among the crowds towards the center of the old city. The sun had set and darkness enveloped the ancient walls and buildings. Bright Stars of David shone in the windows of the dwellings. Finally, Connor spoke.

  “You’re an Arab?”

  “I’m part Arab, mostly Indian. I’m a half-breed, if you will. My ancestors came from India and intermarried with the Arabs centuries ago.”

  “Yeah, I’m Irish and Scottish, so I can understand how you feel.”

  “That is quite different from being an Arab in Israel, Mr. Murray.”

  “Please, call me Connor.”

  “Okay, Connor it is. Call me Reshma.”

  Connor felt himself become aroused as she said his name. She had a deep, mysterious voice that was very sexual. Stop it, he thought.

  They were silent again for a few minutes. Finally they entered a small public garden that was surrounded by bougainvillea hanging down on all sides from a gazebo. They sat and waited for a bit. They were alone. She spoke.

  “You want to know about the sultan?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean. Who are you talking about?” he answered.

  “The sultan is who is interfering in your energy markets. He is manipulating your gullible public and the environmental movement. He has an agenda.”

  “And what is that agenda?”

  “To rule the world of course.”

  Connor looked at her dumbfounded. “I don’t understand. Who is this person?”

  “Well, let me rephrase that,” she added. “He wants Muslims to rule the world. But he needs your money to get there. He wants you to keep sending trillions of dollars to the Middle East to facilitate this goal. Developing your own shale gas reserves and oil reserves will hurt that effort. So, these new technologies must be stopped, hence the environmental movement. He is funding them. He is controlling them and he is manipulating them, all to achieve his long-term goal of reestablishing the Islamic caliphate globally.”

  “What do you mean the Islamic caliphate?”

  “The caliphate means world domination by Muslims under a religious and spiritual leader. The last caliphate, the Ottoman Empire, died in the early twentieth century when the monarchy was abolished in Turkey, but there have been various caliphates dating back for centuries, even thousands of years. It’s an ancient Muslim concept, that all Muslim nations will be joined under one spiritual ruler. The Christians fought the Crusades to prevent the establishment of a global caliphate. The Islamists have been angry ever since. And, of course they want to destroy Israel.”

  “Does my government know all of this?”

  “Of course they do. We don’t tell them everything, but we keep them advised of problems like this.”

  “Who is the sultan?” asked Connor.

  “Well that is a problem. We really don’t know who he is. We think he is from this region, probably one of the emirs in the Gulf, or possibly another Arab head of state. He keeps his identity very secret. His edicts come from emissaries like attorneys or bankers in places like Dubai, but they are untraceable. Believe me, we have tried.”

  Connor heard a noise and looked outside the gazebo. There were two policemen walking down the pathway towards their location. They were obviously trying to keep the peace and looking for troublemakers. He looked back at Reshma.

  “So how is this sultan involved with me? In my girlfriend’s disappearance?”

  Reshma was about to answer him, but she looked up and noticed the policemen had seen them and were heading their way to check out the gazebo.

  “Kiss me,” she said. “I don’t want them questioning me. Pretend we are impassioned lovers.”

  Connor looked at her with surprise on his face, but the police were almost there, so he did as he was told and kissed her.

  They embraced and explored each other’s mouths for several minutes. The police saw this and laughed to themselves then moved on.

  The cops were long gone, but their kiss continued for a while longer. She felt luxurious and tasted exotic. Finally, Connor broke away.

  “You were saying about your girlfriend?” asked Reshma with a smile on her face.

  Connor blushed and tried to change the subject. “So if you are Indian and Arab, how did you start to work for the Mossad?”

  “You forget, I am an Israeli. Did
you know that Arabs have more freedom here than in their own countries? Israel is tolerant of other religions. Did you not notice the mosque at the center of Jaffa? There are Arabs all around living in freedom. They are not persecuted. I believe in democracy and freedom. And I believe in government by the people and individual rights. That is how I came to work for the Mossad. I am one of their connections to the local minority community. I keep my finger on the pulse of my people. I let the Mossad know if anything dangerous is developing. That is all, it’s really quite simple.”

  “What can you tell me about Natasha?” Connor asked with fear in his voice.

  “I can see you care for her very much, despite your enthusiastic response to my kissing request.” Her eyes lit up with a twinkle. “I don’t have any information for you specifically regarding this woman. However, I can tell you we fear the sultan has people inside your government. People who are promoting his agenda from within the United States in positions of power. We have had to be careful about whom we give this information to inside the administration. We only communicate directly with the president’s staff, as we did with President Walker regarding this issue. That is how he knew to connect me with you. I will let you know if I hear anything regarding Natasha’s status or whereabouts.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “I will get in touch with you through President Walker if there are any developments. How long are you in Tel Aviv?”

  “I leave the day after tomorrow.”

  She handed him a blank card with a phone number printed on it. “Here is my number; call me from a secure line if you have any more questions. The person who answers will set up another meeting. I’d love to see you again.”

  Connor kissed her cheek and they parted company. He slowly walked alone through the crowd back to the opening to the city near the ocean. He was lost in thought. He was also exhausted and needed to be in bed. The humming had started. His body was wracked from the chemo and all of the traveling. I’d love to see you again, she had said. The thought excited him. Was there a hidden meaning in her words? Was she attracted to him? He thought of the feeling of her warm, exotic body next to his and the taste of her mouth.