by Rose Fox
The two figures disappeared from the room but left the door open. Abigail remained fixed to the spot and did not move.
She waited in silence and only when she was sure she was alone, she rose up against the wall, turned on the light and immediately switched it off. That was time enough for her eyes to open wide in amazement. Emir, the man who had sent her to this room and gathered all of them together there, was not among the dead. Terrifying thoughts crept into her mind and only now, she began to digest the day’s events. She realized who the devoted clerk really was, even though he had served her with unbounded loyalty at this hostel, and continued to do so even after she moved to a different one.
She glanced at the open door and wondered whether it was supposed to invite the sole survivor to fall into the hands of the assassins. That was the reason she turned left towards the wall with the window. She clung to the wall with her back and looked down the long corridor. She understood that the gunmen were waiting for her at the end of that hall.
Making a snap decision, she turned to the window, pressed on the metal handle and broke it with a ‘click’. Once more, she faced a terrible decision.
If she were to continue down the hall, the gunmen could still be lying in wait for her and if she jumped out of the window, she might be injured. Deciding quickly, she held on to the window and pulled herself up on the narrow railing. She looked down below into the dark yard, two floors below. She took a breath, closed her eyes and jumped.
She landed like a frog on bent legs and hopped further along, going around trees and stretching her arms ahead of her to detect pillars or bushes in her way. Where to? She didn’t know. When she stopped, panting, she recognized the deserted light rail station. She approached it and embraced the familiar metal pillar that served as the meeting point for her groups of tourists.
When the cold of the pillar penetrated her clothing, she let go of it and wondered if she should return to her room. She feared one of the gunmen could be waiting for her there, having been instructed by Emir, who was familiar with her routine and knew her habits there. Of course, she could not return to the ‘Chai Huneh’ or set eyes on the man who had survived the assassination. She also understood that the charming clerk had been the intermediary responsible for gathering the four of them and turning them in, as well.
Suddenly, she remembered the tiny disk-on-key she had hidden in her bra and she grasped it. Biting her lips, she made up her mind to carry out the assignment as planned, come what may, without connection to the bloody event of the day and, perhaps, because of it.
A cold breeze made Abigail shiver as she made her way to the hostel where she now lived, but she stopped immediately. A figure was striding towards her and in the lamplight she saw it was Karma. She yearned to run to him, but the horror of the past hour paralyzed her. Now, she was even frightened of him and cried helplessly. She felt great anger with everyone because she no longer trusted the man she loved. Abigail crouched behind a bush and stared at him from her hiding place. He was walking back and forth in front of the building, looking at his wrist, probably to check the time.
“Miaow,” she howled like a cat, but there was no response. She picked up a little stone and threw it at the wall, which startled him and made him jump. She found this funny and she put her hand over her mouth, but he noticed her. After a minute, he approached her slowly.
“What happened?!” He asked with concern. Her face was awash with tears and he pulled her aside to a spot where the lampposts didn’t cast their light. They both walked under the cover of dark and came to a car she didn’t know he had at his disposal and they got into it.
They drove in silence through the empty streets until they left the town behind. They passed through dark fields and suddenly, she spoke.
“They shot them, they killed Ayatollah Karim, Jalal, and the third person.”
Karma jammed on the brakes suddenly. Then he pressed down hard on the accelerator again, causing the car to rock from side to side as it continued driving at a crazy speed on the potholed road it had swerved off on. Abigail grabbed on to the door handle and saw he had twisted his lips as he drove ahead, staring into the darkness.
“Emir gave us away,” She muttered.
“How did you survive?” He asked.
“I heard the gun being cocked and turned off the light.” She inhaled loudly. “The two men were Mustafa and Rulam.”
“How do you know that?”
“They shone their flashlight on the three dead men, spoke to each other and looked for another one.”
“What do you say?”
And she knew he did not believe her.
The speed of the car increased and it went on shaking wildly as Abigail continued speaking:
“There were five of us and they shot three.”
Again he asked: “How did you survive?”
Suddenly, he stopped the car and turned to look at her.
The faint light in the car gave his face the weird appearance of being surrounded by a halo. The pupils of his eyes looked enormous in the light of the dashboard and Abigail shrank back from him.
“Emir was not among the dead and he was the one who told me to go up to room 202.”
“Did you say, Ayatollah Karim?! Did they kill him, too?”
“You were the sole survivor,” he said again and then absorbed who had been killed.
He pounded the dashboard with his fist, leaned back and closed his eyes wearily. She listened to his murmurs.
“If they caught up with him, that means they will soon be closing in on us. After them, they’ll be looking for me, of course,” he grew silent for a moment.
“I want to tell you something. I asked him to marry us.”
All at once, Abigail recalled what Jalal had said and the remarks fell into place in her mind.
“Hey, Jalal also said something about that.”
“Jalal?! What did he say?”
“Something to do with my marriage.”
“For the sake of Allah, try to repeat what he said.”
“He said that if I get back safely this time…forget it, he was just babbling.”
“No, continue. What would happen if you returned safely, what did he say?”
“That then, they would celebrate my marriage very festively.”
“Oh,” Karma said as he hit his forehead. “Now, I get it! It was Emir.”
“What has Emir got to do with a wedding celebration?”
“I asked Emir if he could arrange a feast at the ‘Chai Huneh’ pension. I didn’t say what the celebration was about. But, the rascal understood.”
“Is that so?” Abigail remarked and touched him. “This is the first time that… you never said a thing to me.”
He embraced her and at that moment she thought that they had never touched one another before.
“Let’s get moving,” he said, partly asking but also, declaring. He straightened up and began driving.
They were silent, each deep in thought. It was clear to Abigail that a new enemy called Emir had been exposed and had disappeared with the murderers.
“It would be interesting to know who he reports to,” she said out loud. “Who does he belong to?” She immediately added with a modicum of decisiveness:
“Like Mas’habi – he will share the same fate.”
Karma frowned, trying to understand what she meant.
“Who is Mas’habi and what fate do you have in store for him?”
“Ah, he was a double agent who was assassinated by the Iranians,” she told him.
It reminded her that because of him, she had got her original eye color back because they feared he might report her personal details to the Iranians. Abigail debated with herself whether to confide in Karma or remain silent. She dismissed the matter with a casual wave of her hand.
“Ah, Mas’habi, he’s no one of importance,” she said, “His real name was actually Razeh,” and Karma opened his eyes wide in amazement.
“Hey, I have heard
of him. Razeh was taken out in the demonstrations last year. It was rumored that he worked with the ‘Mossad’” he said, and she shrugged. She wondered if she hadn’t said too much.
“I don’t know, I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” She looked at him with wide-eyed innocence.
“Was he really a double agent?”
Karma chuckled and pressed her shoulder.
“Enough, leave it, we’re both being evasive. It seems I will have to marry you to get you to collaborate.”
She glanced at him and then suggested, coquettishly:
“Come, Karma, let’s get away from here.”
“And go, where?”
The car stopped and Abigail looked out of the window. They had drawn up beside her pension and Karma announced:
“We will meet tomorrow at noon at the light rail station beside the blue pillar.”
She tossed and turned all night in her bed. She could not dispel thoughts about the events of the terrifying night at ‘Chai Huneh’. She was angry with herself for falling for the trap that Emir had set for her. Over and over the sight of the three people, who had been murdered came back to her, she remembered the moments in the dark when single shots pierced the silence. Finally, she got up, wrapped herself in her robe and left her room.
Complete silence greeted her. The corridors were empty and the dim light intensified her depression. She ambled ahead, trying to solve the mystery – how did Emir know she was a stranger, how did she fall into the trap he set her with such ease. Once more, she was angry with herself for not checking the situation out before she went into room 202. Suddenly she stopped. She realized that Emir was convinced that she was one of the dead and could not have known that she had jumped out of the window and escaped.
She went outside the building and sat on a squeaky bench. She heard the wailing of warring cats beside her and she stared at them absentmindedly. Thoughts and ideas crowded her mind. She decided to wait till evening and go into the ‘Chai Huneh,' accompanied by Karma. Of course, she would cover her hair and face with a chador and would look through its mesh strip.
The plan suited her, but since she had not arranged the meeting with him, she waited for morning.
Towards evening, she took out her cell phone and contacted him. She waited for the phone to ring once then quickly hung up. Abigail believed that when he saw that a call had been made from her number, he would understand that she wanted him to come to her. She didn’t take into account that Emir was meticulously following Karma and had sent someone to tail him wherever he went.
Indeed, Karma understood her intention and ten minutes later he parked his car two alleys away from the light rail station and walked on foot to meet Abigail.
When he reached Rasta Avenue, opposite the station, Karma noticed Abigail and went towards her.
A masked man leaped out from a side lane and hit him on the head with a bar. Karma collapsed and lost consciousness. Before he fell, he managed to sneak a glance at his attacker, who disappeared seconds later in the narrow alleys.
In the meantime, Abigail waited near the station. Ahead of her she saw people running and escaping from the lane and her curiosity led her to look at what had caused them to flee.
A man lay on the cobblestones. She hurried to him. To her amazement, is was Karma. She immediately leaned over him, touched his neck and felt for his pulse. She sat down on the street with her back to him, pulled his arms onto her shoulders. She didn’t know where she found the strength, but she stood up with him lying on her back and his arms on her shoulders. She almost didn’t remember the way, but the jerking roused him from his stupor and he mumbled something.
“Try and stand,” she suggested and supported him, but he rocked like a drunkard and had difficulty keeping his balance. Abigail embraced his body from behind, passed her arms under his armpits and waited for him to steady himself, but his legs kept buckling underneath him.
“Karma, someone hit you on your head,” she spoke to his back. “Try and stand, because we have to get out of here,” and she almost wept when he slipped down on the ground again.
Suddenly she burst out laughing and Karma stared at her. His gaze wasn’t focused but, within a second, she noticed a spark of consciousness return to his eyes.
“Hi, my dear Karma, come let’s sit there in the corner and gather our strength,” she said and supported him till they reached the wall of the adjacent house.
Walking the short distance to the house took them considerable time. Karma coughed and progressed with difficulty and as soon as they entered the room he slipped along the wall and sank to the floor. Rivulets of congealed blood were smeared on his cheeks and Abigail tore the sheet on the mattress and wiped away the blood that had dried on his face.
“Who hit you, Karma? Did you recognize him?”
“Not at all.” Karma could hardly speak. “I saw something here, on his hand… but I’m not absolutely sure.”
“What did you see, it’s important, try and remember.”
“I think I saw a small star, like a blue dot, or green, perhaps.”
Abigail yawned and wasn’t paying attention to what he had just said. She looked at Karma’s watch.
“It’s already after eleven now and it’s reasonable to presume that everyone’s asleep at ‘Chai Huneh,' right?”
“Hey, what reminded you of ‘Chai Huneh’?”
“The night is young,” she remarked, “I think, if we don’t act tonight, I’m not sure we’ll get to see the light of day.”
Karma sighed.
“Who managed to find me out?”
“Oh, now you’re making sense!” She stopped suddenly and stared at him.
“Wait, did you say he had a blue star tattooed on his hand?”
“I’m not certain.”
“I just remembered that Emir has a turquoise star here,” and she pointed to the back of her hand between her thumb and forefinger.
She heard Karma chuckle and looked at him when he said:
“I recall inquiring if he could arrange a beautiful event at his pension.”
“That’s really hilarious right now,” she said sarcastically, without a smile.
Abigail turned to him.
“Could you wait here for a few minutes while I shower?”
“I don’t promise. Maybe I’ll get up and run away.”
She chuckled briefly and went to take a shower. By the time she came out, Karma’s eyes had closed and he had fallen asleep. She saw that he was fast asleep and thought about going out on her own. What happened in the following seconds completely solved her dilemma.
A burst of gunfire shattered the window pane and Karma opened his eyes in fright. Shards of glass went flying and he dropped to the floor, pulling Abigail after him and screamed:
“We’ve no choice, let’s get out of here!”
Within a minute, they were both outside the building, pressed up close to the outside wall. Karma searched for the gunmen in the surrounding darkness and whispered:
“Where are the bastards who fired at me?”
“Did you think they would wait for you to come after them?” She replied softly, “but why do I have the feeling they’re still around here?”
She pulled his sleeve and turned his attention to the exaggerated movement of the leaves of a large shrub further down the road and said:
“Wait here and if they reach you – kill them. You have a cover – they don’t.”
She crawled on the sand, going from bush to bush and made a large circle around the shrub. When she was twenty feet away, she saw a donkey calmly chewing on the leaves, blowing and shaking the branches. She rose with a sigh, put two fingers into her mouth and whistled to Karma to signal that all was well and lowered the tension.
Ten minutes later they stood facing the ‘Chai Huneh’, hiding behind some bushes. The sign on the wall was illuminated with a yellow light and Abigail whispered:
“We should wait. The streetlights go out at around five o’c
lock in the morning.”
“Yes, but then there will be daylight,” he added and held his head, shaking it from side to side.
Right then, a jeep stopped with a screech of brakes and two people got out of both its doors and made their way to the pension. Abigail stood alert because it was unusual for people to arrive at this hour. She curled her hand in front of her mouth and called out:
“Pssst, pssst.”
Karma looked at her and the two men, who had just arrived, stopped short. Without hesitating, one of them fired in their direction and in response, flashes of fire burst out of the dark entrance to the pension.
Karma and Abigail lay on the sand, clinging to the branches of the trees and saw how one of the two men rocked on his feet. Apparently he had been hit but, before falling, he managed to fire his rifle in the direction of the entrance. Another burst of gunfire followed and his partner fell on the path. Silence followed and the area was quiet again.
Abigail muttered:
“Amateurs.”
She hurried to move and take cover in a hollow under a different tree. Just then, a single shot rang out, followed by dead silence all around.
“Someone with a cocked rifle at the entrance is very tense,” Karma remarked.
“Right, and it would be wise not to anger him because he has a very light finger on the trigger,” she replied.
“No, just the opposite, it would be better to let him fire all his ammunition before we go in and kill him.”
“How, exactly? Should we block the barrel of his rifle with a finger?” she answered him angrily.
Just then, a large car drew up in front of them. Its lights were doused, but no one got out.
Abigail placed a finger to her lips to signal ‘Silence’ and made a firing gun gesture to him. Karma tried to understand her warning and when fresh spurts of gunfire were heard, he knew what she meant. The fire sounded as if it came from a machine gun and the pulse in the recent wound beat in his head as if it was about to burst. He held his ears in both hands and dug himself into the sand, praying for quiet to return.
And indeed, after those exchanges of gunfire, there was complete silence in the area and Abigail waved both her hands excitedly to indicate they had all been eliminated.