by Rose Fox
“Ahh… I fear that it was a mistake to go away and leave her like that.”
“What do you fear?”
At first, Karma did not respond and then he asked:
“Is there any possibility of arranging a “temporary marriage” between us? And he did not see how Karim’s eyes opened wide in amazement.
There had been plenty of time for Karma to think about his relationship with Abigail. His idea was to consecrate their relationship without it being discovered by his family in America. He had not forgotten what Nana Kahit had told him about the relationship between his own parents. He thought that if the story had suited the father it might also be good for his son, who was tortured with desire.
Both Karma and Karim knew that an Iranian man is permitted to take a second wife without any difficulty. Thus, the clergyman found it surprising and asked Karma:
“Why not marry her according to our holy Sharia laws? We could arrange it here in our jurisdiction in a spectacular ceremony with a large attendance of dignitaries. Why would you enter into a temporary marriage?”
Karma decided to be frank with him and said:
“The truth is that I would not like my wife in the United States, to find out about this additional wife. I presume that the marriage would be ratified by the clergy according to our laws.”
“I am not certain. In my opinion you would not be able to marry her because she is not one of us,” he said. The truth was that he was wary of the other clergymen and feared they might delve into her past and, perhaps, even discover something about her activities or his connection to both of them.
“The lady is a sort of Muslim,” Karma said and Karim chuckled.
“Sort of Muslim? Karma, my dear, there is no such thing in our Holy Books.”
“Listen, Naima was born into a migrant Bedouin tribe that wanders in the desert. Bedouins are like Muslims, they speak Arabic and she, together with the members of her tribe dwell in tents, sit on mats, ride camels and eat food cooked on fires fueled by their dung. She herded sheep in the shifting dunes and, in short – I don’t believe there will be a problem.”
“So, what, if anything, is still an issue?” Karim insisted and Karma laughed.
“She still doesn’t know that I think of her constantly and I’m not sure that she will agree to marry me.”
“Aha, then you are right. You do have a problem.” Karim was of the same opinion, and then another idea crossed his mind.
“I want to point out something else you may not have considered. This lady you speak of comes from a place where women are free, not Muslims. Her thinking is Western and even if she accepts your proposal, how can you be sure that she will agree to that kind of marriage?”
“So, what do you suggest, Ya’Karim?”
Karma sounded stressed and Karim laughed, “Lovesick, ha?”
“I didn’t know how deeply. I must admit that I have no peace of mind and cannot sleep at night for dreaming and fantasizing about her.”
“Let’s talk – when you return,” Karim suggested.
And here she was, standing in front of him and her question was actually a kind of answer to the dilemma and a solution for Karma, who was suffering far from home.
When Karim looked at her back, he did not know, of course, that she was wondering how to answer him, but then she waved goodbye, nodded and went on her way. She was shocked by his ability to guess and also worried by it.
A few days later, she returned after dark from an extended tour. The distant treetops seemed like a gray block on the steep slopes and from far away she saw a tall image walking back and forth when she suddenly realized who it was. She immediately gathered up her long dress tightly around her thighs and ran towards the figure, convinced that he was waiting for her, alone. When she reached him, she faced him, panting and laughing happily. She restrained herself and stopped, knowing what was forbidden and what was permissible in public but her emotions flooded her and she lapsed into emotionally charged words.
“Hey, Habibi, (my dear) have you come back?! Have you been waiting long? Have you eaten? Do you want to come in? And he laughed at her and said:
“Hello.”
She did not know that he was also restraining himself from taking her in his arms, but his distant response froze her with disappointment.
During the long months of separation from him she would lie in her bed and reflect on what she would do if they ever met again, what she would tell him and how she would behave.
Karma pulled aside the beaded curtain at the entrance, entered the hostel and she quickly followed him. He raised his arm to say ‘Hello’ to Emir, who responded with a slight nod of his head that was barely visible, but a glint in his eye disclosed his surprise.
They sat on the sofa and an armchair in the lobby and Karma whispered to her:
“What have you been doing till now?” and his eyes shone.
She was sure that she read something in his expression.
“I missed you.” She said and Karma let out a sigh of gratification and smiled in response. The stone in her ring grew dark and Abigail felt sure that the man facing her reciprocated her feelings. She wanted to tell him how much she yearned for him, to share with him that she didn’t know how he felt about her Instead, she said:
“I called on Karim,” and she didn’t understand why he looked at her in shock and swallowed his beautiful smile. The light in his amber eyes grew dull.
“Oh, did you really? What did he tell you? Why did you go to him?”
He spoke with some agitation and screwed up his eyes.
When they parted, she approached the curved reception desk and asked Emir for her mail and caught that he was signaling to her and hinted with his eyes. His lips mouthed the words:
“Look.” He turned to hang a key on one of the hooks nailed into the large wooden board that hung behind him. Then he pointed to and knocked on the number on which he hung the key with his finger as if to say:
‘In this room.’ It was number 202 and Abigail opened and closed her eyes again to signal ‘I understand’. The man disappeared from view behind the wooden board.
Abigail turned around to check that no one had seen the signals passing between them and went to the staircase beside the elevator. She swiftly climbed the stairs to the second floor and sought the room.
The room was the last in the row, at the end of the corridor and it was possible to reach it from behind, from the narrow iron stairs that led to the back yard.
The faded carpet muffled her footsteps and she scanned the numbers on the doors. A “Do not disturb.” notice hung on the doorknob of room 217 and from another door sounds of the radio or television could be heard. She continued down the corridor checking out ten rooms on either side. At the end of the hall, beside the last door, there was a window through which the complete darkness of the night outside could be seen. Abigail hurried, concerned that soon people would be coming to their rooms to go to bed.
She stopped in front of room 202 and listened. Not a sound was heard from inside so she crooked her finger and knocked. The stone in her ring sparked and sent a wave of heat down her finger. It sparkled almost black and Abigail looked for a reason for the change in color. There was nothing to be seen around her, only the window on her right and the empty corridor on her left. It was likely that the stone had been affected by something from the door. She immediately stepped aside so as to avoid being surprised when it opened.
There was no response and Abigail put out her hand and knocked on the door again. It suddenly opened just a crack, a hand came out and grabbed her arm and immediately dragged her inside. Abigail dropped on the floor with a thud and a foot stepped on her back, holding her down on the carpet. Acting on instinct she turned around at once, grabbed the foot off her back and pulled it forward. The man lost his balance and yelled when he felt her bite his ankle.
She jumped to her feet in a second, swept up a chair that was beside her but stopped the moment she recognized Jalal. He
covered his face with both hands to protect himself from the expected blow. Abigail put the chair down and stood ready, her legs spread slightly apart with her hands on her hips. In spite of knowing the man lying on the floor, she remained alert, prepared for anything.
“Why didn’t you pull my leg like I did yours?” she asked, panting. “Why didn’t you try to evade the blow?” She asked as she sat down on the chair that had served her as a weapon, a moment earlier. Jalal jumped to his feet and cursed under his breath.
“The hell with it, you almost killed me! Where did you learn to respond like that?”
“Survival instinct,” she said. “I want to live.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he panted hard.
She heard him say:
“If you come back in one piece this time, we’ll celebrate your marriage with a great party,” leaving her dumbstruck.
“What, what?” She exclaimed.
His remark was not something she expected to hear because it contained words that frightened her. First, she heard the words: “If you come back in one piece this time,” and understood that a dangerous mission was being planned and that she might not return safely from it. The second matter, which concerned her, was who was dictating to her and preparing to celebrate her marriage??
“Excuse me?! Repeat that! In whose name are you speaking?” she muttered indignantly.
“In my name,” she heard a voice and a black turban approached.
The smile was wiped off Jalal’s lips and he bowed his head before the Ayatollah Karim, the religious authority, who had just arrived.
Karim had witnessed her entry and had seen the exercise she had performed but did not say a word. He had been informed a long time ago that she was as well trained as she was beautiful and today he had seen her in action.
Abigail stood up and stared at the man. He was dressed in a snowy white robe and his graying beard decoratively covered his chest. As she looked him over and stared at his hooked nose and thick eyebrows, she thought he reminded her of a bird of prey.
“Sit down,” he said in a commanding tone. But, she remained standing and suddenly turned to Jalal.
“If you would excuse me, I have something important to say to this honorable gentleman,” she said and Jalal opened his mouth and stared at Karim. Karim nodded to him and Jalal withdrew, leaving the two of them standing facing one another in the room.
Abigail spoke calmly:
“If you sit – I will also sit.”
Karim sat down, watched her sit down and tried not to look at her unique eyes.
“I wonder, Sir, if you are accustomed to meddling in personal matters without being asked to do so?”
She was unable to conceal her anger. When a smile spread under his mustache, she spoke in a voice that was quieter, and calmer:
“I assume that you dictate the lives of the people around you, Isn’t that so?”
Karim did not respond and she continued:
“If I am going out on an assignment with little chance of returning, then what marriage is Jalal talking about?”
As he still kept silent, she understood that this was his way of controlling the situation and she decided to try a different method because she knew that she was not obliged to obey this man.
“We are alone,” she said, “it’s true I am a woman, not a soldier, but you are permitted to acknowledge my presence, Sir,” she added.
“In this room, there are only soldiers of Allah, not men and not women,” He stated. He clapped his hands twice and three men entered the room. First Jalal, followed by another man she was not acquainted with, joined them. The third man caused her mouth to drop open in surprise because it was Emir, the reception clerk, who had given her the signal to come to this room.
“Tomorrow, an hour after midnight, you will come to the X point we spoke of, dressed in clothing you will receive,” Emir informed her.
“Aha,” she responded.
Emir placed a plastic garment and a tube on the table.
“It is expected to rain tomorrow and we must take this into account because the meeting will be held in the region of the swamps.”
“Who will be awaiting me?”
“It makes no difference, he will be watching out for you and will recognize you using the means at his disposal,” Emir replied.
It was difficult for Abigail to comprehend that this insignificant clerk, without any personality worth mentioning, was sitting with them, an underground group fighting the ruling regime. She heard him continue speaking.
“The waters of the Charon River basin are rising and flooding during this season. There is a great deal of water, so beware and take care of yourself.”
His arm came close to her and the stone in her ring scorched her skin. Abigail realized that everything he said sounded calm but under the surface his spirit was in turmoil.
The man she was not acquainted with joined in the conversation.
“Okay, my name is Liam. It’s said that I am an expert in computers and if that is correct, then you are about to save the world.”
She shifted her gaze away from him because the tiny scar between the hairs of his stylish beard made him look threatening and repelled her.
“You are going to the “Lashkar Abad” facility where experiments are being carried out to separate isotopes and enrich uranium, using laser technologies.” He waited for her reaction and, when there was none, he continued speaking.
“The place is deserted because the Iranians claim it is closed and no longer active.”
At that moment, Abigail realized what he was saying.
“Did you say that there is no activity and that the place has been abandoned? Wait, are we talking about the same facility?”
“Yes, it is said that it was abandoned a long time ago and closed.”
“But that is inaccurate,” She claimed. “A month ago, after the explosion in the reactor at Isfahan, I toured the place and observed it,” she spoke excitedly. “What I saw there was far from being abandoned. I followed the movement of vehicles and I mean considerable movement behind the fences.”
“It’s possible that cars came there because the place was abandoned and empty.”
“No way! The most important thing I noticed was the security arrangements. I even saw dogs running beside the long fence.” Pausing for a moment she looked at the three men. “This reactor is very active and I had the impression that it is working at maximum capacity.”
“Well said, but the establishment wants to create the illusion that the facility is inactive,” Liam explained. Jalal tensed up with excitement in his chair.
“Hey, those dirty dogs! Wait that’s something we didn’t take into account.” He announced. “I suppose it will be necessary to prepare differently and these are details we were unaware of before!”
“No, no. Not exactly, and actually, we did have these details! Naima, herself, transmitted the data to me and we have already factored them in,” Emir announced and turned to Naima, “Isn’t that so?”
Surprised by this, Abigail looked at him askance. She couldn’t remember ever having discussed anything with this man, especially not on this subject and she understood that something strange was going on. Thoughts raced through her mind.
She wondered if, let’s say, Emir told the Ayatollah about the guards and the dogs – why hadn’t Karim mentioned this important fact? From her point of view, it was a hint and a sign of something having gone wrong. Liam shoved her with his arm.
“Ah, yes, I was daydreaming for a moment,” She said. He handed her a small gray object.
“This is a Flash-drive. It has two pins, which you must use to pierce the main cable. Then you have to code it to allow the virus loaded on it to infiltrate the system." He stared at her.
“Yes, it’s not a simple assignment. It’s extremely dangerous and involves infiltrating highly secured areas.”
She closed her fist around the small device, glanced at them and dropped it deep d
own between her breasts. She smiled apologetically and said contritely.
“Perhaps I’ll find a better place for it tomorrow,”
At that very moment, a harsh creak was heard from inside the house and Abigail gestured with her hands to hush them up.
“Hey! Did you hear that?” She whispered.
Emir stood up and retreated to the side.
" Yes, what was it? It sounds like the rusty hinge of a closet or the door to a room,” Liam said and Emir took another step back. The creaking was heard again and Abigail whispered hoarsely:
“Someone’s lurking around here,” she said and retreated quickly to the wall and switched off the light.
In the surrounding dark, the sound of a spring being stretched was clearly audible. Abigail whispered:
“Oh, it’s the sound of a gun being cocked!” And she pressed herself against the wall behind her.
Quick steps were heard. An orange flare flashed and muted sounds of gunfire echoed off the walls. Someone was hit and fell to the floor, a moan escaping his lips. Abigail slipped down on the floor and clung to the seam where the wall met the floor. Her hands felt a random object and she hurriedly crouched down behind it, without knowing what was concealing her. A flashlight was switched on and drew long lines on the floor tiles. The light was projected in all directions and illuminated the object she held on to but not her because she was protected by its shade. The light moved along the floor and lit up Karim’s white robe and turban, which had fallen off his head, and both were stained crimson red with his blood.
Abigail stifled a scream when she saw the three bodies. The flashlight was turned off and she heard three additional shots and noticed the figure kicking each of the bodies that had been shot, apparently, to verify their death.
“How many do we have here, Rulam?” a loud whisper was heard in the dark.
“Three.”
“Hey, then we’re missing one.”
“That’s not important at the moment. Y’allah, (come on) Mustafa, let’s get out of here. If he’s here, he’ll have to come to us.”
Abigail heard their names and committed them to memory. She could not have known that Rulam and Mustafa were two of the six bearded men, who had met with Mas’habi, the double agent from the ‘Mossad.'