The Third Cell

by Anthony D'Egidio

  Mika Rudolph

  Benjamin was in high spirits the day of his date with Mika. He spent the majority of the week shopping for new shoes and clothes, including a designer cashmere sports jacket that set him back nine hundred and fifty dollars. It was the first time since his wife’s death that he had purchased any clothing for himself. He left promptly at six o’clock for the drive to Coral Gables, with the directions to Mika’s condo.

  Mika looked in the mirror as she tried on various outfits. I don’t know why I’m so apprehensive about this client. It isn’t the man. It’s the conditions that Paul Kramer placed on me. I’m concerned about my safety. There is something strange going on and I’m sure that Paul and Benjamin are not related in any manner. Tonight will be the first time I’ve had a client to my home, but then again he doesn’t know my profession.

  Dressing, she continued to ponder the circumstances and her exposure. Is this a setup for a drug or business deal that has gone bad? I’ve no one to turn to. If I go to the police, I’ll certainly be deported.

  The telephone startled her from her thoughts. It was the guard at the front desk announcing Benjamin’s arrival.

  Mika looked at her watch, seven o’clock exactly. “Please send him up.”

  Answering the door, Mika was surprised at how handsome Benjamin looked. His hair streaked with gray and his lightly tanned skin gave the appearance of a man fifteen years younger than his age.

  “I’m glad to see you,” said Mika. “Please come in. I’ll be ready in a minute. Help yourself to a drink at the bar.”

  “Thank you.” Benjamin walked into the lavishly decorated apartment. He wandered over to a pair of satin chrome and glass teardrop-shaped curios separated by a credenza made of dark mahogany with an oriental flair to its design. It seemed out of place with the rest of the furniture, but blended in nicely between the two curios. He viewed the collection of Egyptian artifacts.

  “Your Egyptian collection is very fine. We’ll have to search long and hard to compliment the pieces,” said Benjamin as he inspected.

  “Well, tomorrow we can cruise the Grove and let’s see what you can find for me.” Mika called out as she was putting on her last earring.

  Benjamin reflected on her statement. She’s expecting me to be with her tomorrow? Have I just been given an invitation to spend the night?

  Benjamin wasn’t used to aggressive women. In fact he wasn’t used to women in general, except for his wife. At Tel Aviv University he was more interested in achieving his doctorate than women. He had met his wife Rachel in 1965, his final year at the university. Rachel was a very shy and conservative woman, the total opposite of his date Mika. I wonder why I’m attracted to this stranger. It could be curiosity or maybe just pure animal magnetism?

  Mika walked out of the bedroom calling, “Shall we go?” Her voice wakened Benjamin from his reminiscing.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” said Mika. “I’ve selected a very exclusive restaurant in Coconut Grove for dinner. I have been there many times. It has a wonderful ambience and excellent menu.”

  Benjamin took her arm. “Do you have any menu favorites?”

  “I always enjoy the Chateaubriand for two. For dessert I always order the dark chocolate soufflé. Are you a vegetarian?”

  “No I’m not. It sounds like a perfect combination, especially if they have a vintage Corbin Michotte St. Emilion, one of my favorite wines.”

  After a pleasant dinner they arrived back at Mika’s condo. Benjamin and Mika were relaxing on the terrace sipping a 1937 Porta Rocha Colheita, a rare Portuguese wine.

  “This Port is superb,” said Benjamin.

  Mika replied, “It’s a gift from one of my friends on their return from Europe.” He doesn’t have to know my friends are really my clients and I earned every drop of that Port.

  Mika got up from the chair and walked over to the terrace railing, looking out at the city lights. “We’ll have brunch in the morning and then explore the Grove.” Never once did it cross her mind that Benjamin would not accept.

  “I don’t have anything to wear for tomorrow.”

  “I have some things that were left over by my ex-husband. He was about your size,” she lied. Having anticipated Benjamin spending the night, she purchased and then sent out to be laundered a lightweight pair of offwhite slacks and short-sleeve teal polo shirt. Benjamin never questioned the source of the clothing, nor did he inquire about her husband.

  That night Benjamin was treated to an array of sexual skillfulness that he may only have imagined. In his marriage, he had only experienced face-to-face intercourse, and oral sex had been entirely out of the question. Mika treated him to exquisite lessons in positions he had only read about. By the time she was through, he was completely exhausted and fell into a deep sleep.

  Tuesday afternoon Mika was having her weekly meeting with Paul Kramer. He passed her an envelope. “With this money you’re going to learn how to scuba dive. Lessons start on Thursday. Here is the location of the school in Miami.”

  “Are you crazy? Look, Mr. Kramer, I don’t even like the water.”

  Sergeant Navarro looked directly into her eyes. “I really don’t care what you like or dislike. You’ll start Thursday morning and I expect you to be certified in two weeks. There has been a large exchange of cash and I expect return for my investment. Also, I want you to get passport photos and give them to me on our next meeting.” He got up from the table and left the café.

  Mika just sat there astounded. What have I gotten myself into?

  On Thursday, Mika arrived at the dive school. After a half hour orientation by the dive master, she went to change for the preliminary training at the pool. When she arrived at poolside, the instructor was shaking his head.

  The instructor grinned as he said, “That bikini is very eye-catching, but it’s not the kind of swimming suit you should be training in. I suggest you buy a one piece that covers up more of your body and return on Monday for further instructions.”

  By mid-September Mika was not only certified, but had found the sport to be addictive. Following Paul Kramer’s instructions, she had successfully encouraged Benjamin to join her. Before long they were diving every weekend covering the many dive sites of South Florida, which not only included the reefs, but the many shipwrecks that dotted the coastline.

  Colombia

  While Benjamin and Mika were exploring their newfound sport, Jonah Meyerson was on his way to Colombia. In Bogotá he met up with his brother-in-law.

  “Ronaldo, I need to withdraw fifty million Pesos ($25,000) from the bank account in Bogotá. I’m going to purchase some exotic plants for shipping to the United States.”

  Ronaldo and Maria had set the business account up many years in advance on Jonah’s advice. Jonah, not being a resident of Colombia, couldn’t be joint signer on the account with Maria even though she was his spouse.

  Ronaldo had remarked with disdain, “The entire banking system in Colombia is controlled by a few wealthy businessmen whose only concern is lining their own pockets. There’s no real competition and the Colombian people are all held hostage by these greedy men.”

  Jonah was more philosophical. “I have to accept the predicament and either you or Maria can withdraw the money.”

  Jonah took a flight from Bogotá to San Andrés in late September with the money in hand.

  Early the following morning Jonah met with Abu Abbas Ismail detailing his plan. “Abu Abbas, I’ve two people who are going to book a vacation to San Andrés Island for scuba diving arriving December 21. Their names are Benjamin Werner and Mika Rudolph and they’ll be staying at the Hotel La Mar.” Jonah Meyerson laid out his plan. “On my last trip to San Andrés I went diving with Archipelago Scuba Diving. The owner Juan Gomez was in financial trouble and I know he couldn’t get the money from the banks. He asked me to lend him money but I refused.”

  Jonah picked up a beach bag and handed it to Abu Abbas. “In this bag is fifty million Pesos that you’re going to loan to J
uan Gomez with the stipulation that your two cousins must be hired as dive instructors. I want you to find two out-of-work locals who have a sordid past and scuba diving experience. With the unemployment rate near twenty percent on the island, this shouldn’t be a problem. Juan Gomez mustn’t know about the plot.”

  Abu Abbas stopped him for a moment. “How can you be sure the two visitors will use Archipelago Scuba Diving?”

  “It’s been arranged, don’t worry about it. You ask too many questions.”

  “Sorry,” said Abu Abbas, knowing he had overstepped his bounds again.

  Jonah continued, “Once we have Benjamin and Mika here, they’ll make their first dives off the east side of the island and the two cohorts are always to accompany them. On their suggestion, a dive will be made on the shipwrecked Hilma Hooker. The two men you hire will make sure they don’t surface. There will be investigations, but I’m sure it will be nothing more than a tragic accident if everyone does as they’re told.”

  Abu Abbas nodded his head in agreement. After Jonah left, Abu Abbas counted the money. This is going to be a challenge to put everything in place, but I’m not intimidated by the task.

  Abu Abbas Ismail was a product of Balata, Palestinian, the largest refugee camp on the West Bank, where close to thirty thousand people lived in an area only two kilometers wide. He was only eight years old when the Six-Day War broke out. As Israeli tanks traveled through the narrow alleys that separated the concrete blockhouses, Abu Abbas would drop Molotov cocktails on top of the gun turrets. He barely survived when an IDF soldier, spotting his activity, shot him in the back as he ran, puncturing his left kidney. He was rushed to a makeshift first aid shelter to stop the bleeding and then transported thirty-five kilometers to the government hospital in Ramallah on the back of a pickup truck. Once in the hospital they operated to remove the damaged kidney and Abu Abbas survived, existing on the remaining organ.

  The injury never deterred Abu Abbas from his terrorist activities and during the tremulous uprisings in the late 1980s, which became known as the First Intifada, he recruited many young men to join the cause and would lead them on deadly incursions into Israeli settlements that had been established on the West Bank.

  Eventually Abu Abbas found himself in Southern Lebanon working for the Muslims For Justice and responsible for intelligence-gathering activities. His primary assignment was recruiting and running agents in order to collect information about Israeli military bases and other potential targets.

  When San Andrés Island was identified as imperative to the mission, it was Abu Abbas, the Muslims For Justice agents asked to be the key interface in the Western Hemisphere, and they set him up in business on the island. He took the job never knowing the identity of the cell members, only that the Amir, in a phone call to him before he departed Lebanon, assured Abu Abbas that Islam would be dealing a fatal blow to the United States and Israel in the name of Allāh and the Palestinian cause.

  Mika Rudolph

  Mika sat down at the hastily called meeting with Paul Kramer. “What’s the crisis now?” she asked tersely.

  “You’ll ask Benjamin to accompany you on a dive trip to Cartagena and San Andrés, Colombia in mid-December. I’ll give you the exact dates at a later meeting.”

  “Colombia? I can’t leave the country since my passport would reveal I’m here illegally.”

  At that point a passport was tossed across the table to Mika. As she opened it her eyes widened. The photos I gave him are now part of a new Ukrainian passport with a United States business visa good for two years. It even has a customs stamp showing an entry date of June 24, 2008. “How the hell did you accomplish this?”

  “You’ll get Benjamin to accompany you to Colombia in mid-December. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” said the reluctant Mika.

  The following weekend Mika told Benjamin of her dream scuba diving trip in Cartagena and San Andrés, Colombia.

  “Why Colombia and what is this island called, San Andrés?” Benjamin asked.

  “The dive master at school told me that Money Reef off of Cartagena has over one hundred wooden wrecks, many being Spanish Galleons. He also said that San Andrés is one of the best scuba sites in the Caribbean. There are not only reefs and wrecks, but also cave diving. It should be a great experience.”

  Benjamin reflected. Maybe this trip will be good for me by keeping my mind off Howard Lieberman. Mark tells me they can’t find any connection between him and the other two men. All three grew up in different neighborhoods of London, attending different schools and universities. The only thing they have in common is they’re all orphans. For me this sticks out like a sore thumb, but I can’t convince Mark Heckman that it’s significant. I’ll have to intensify my investigation, with or without Mark’s help. I must hire a private investigator in the United States and piece together who they’ve been in contact with, since their arrival here.

  San Andrés

  Benjamin and Mika flew from Miami to Cartagena, Colombia in mid-December. They spent the next week exploring the Spanish Galleons located on the Money Tree Reef.

  Cartagena was founded in 1533 and had a wealth of historical buildings, including the 17th-century Castillo de San Felipe de Barajas, the largest fortress ever built by the Spaniards outside of Spain. They explored the old city located behind the walls of the fortress, shopping for Colombian emeralds and Native Indian artifacts.

  The following Tuesday, Benjamin and Mika arrived in San Andrés. After clearing customs and checking into the Hotel La Mar, they left to find Archipelago Scuba Diving.

  The proprietor Juan Gomez greeted Benjamin and Mika warmly. He brought them to where the boat was moored. “These are my two dive instructors, Melvin Pusey and George Montenegro. They both speak English as well as Spanish.” He turned to his men. “Let me introduce you to Benjamin and Mika, the two Americans who you’ll take diving tomorrow.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” said George and Melvin as each man shook Benjamin and Mika’s hand.

  “Where do you suggest we dive first?” asked Mika.

  George reached into the center console of the boat. He took out and then unfolded a navigation map. Pointing to a small island he said, “This is Cayo Bolivar and it has a spectacular reef surrounding it. This should be our first day of diving.”

  Benjamin was peering over Mika’s shoulder at the chart. “What time should we be here?”

  “Eight will be fine. It should take about an hour to get there,” replied George.

  Benjamin and Mika left the dive shop to walk the downtown area. There were many shops offering linens, electronics and household items. They entered one of the shops with fine linens imported from Italy. Mika bought a tablecloth that was hand-embroidered with matching napkins.

  Benjamin was already bored as he got into a conversation with the shop owner. Interesting, as at the entrance to Beekman Estates, this man certainly doesn’t look Spanish, but more Middle Eastern. With his curiosity peaking he asked the man in Spanish, “Es usted de descendencia Arabe (Are you of Arabic descent)?”

  The store proprietor answered sarcastically, “Yes, I’m Lebanese, as are most of the store owners on the island, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Benjamin was taken aback by the man’s curt statement. “To tell you the truth, I hadn’t noticed since this is the first shop we’ve stopped in.”

  The man shrugged. “Sorry for being abrupt, but sometimes the customers who are from mainland Colombia seem to resent that we Lebanese have a monopoly on most of the retail shops.”

  Picking up a set of demitasse cups and saucers, Benjamin said to the man. “Kam howa thamanoh? (How much is this?)”

  The shop owner stepped back. “You speak Arabic as well as Spanish and English?”

  “I’ve studied many languages as a university professor and I enjoy the opportunity to practice. Can you tell me why there are so many Lebanese on this small island?”

  What Benjamin heard was the familiar story about one
person on vacation from Lebanon who had fallen in love with the island in the 1950s and decided to immigrate. With time, more of his fellow countrymen found out about the islands beauty and they also relocated. He found the story plausible and didn’t think much more about the circumstances.

  The following day Benjamin and Mika, along with a couple from Toronto Canada, went diving at the uninhabited coral outpost of Cayo Bolivar.

  Mika remarked to George the dive master, “The water is stunning with all the various colors of blue, green and turquoise.”

  George replied, “The locals call it El Mar de Los Siete Colores (the sea of seven colors). San Andrés is considered by many to be one of the most beautiful dive locations in the world.”

  The divers spent half a day amongst nurse sharks, horse-eyed jacks, tuna and giant grouper weighing over one hundred fifty pounds.

  Arriving back in the hotel room Mika said, “Let’s have an early dinner. I’m exhausted and in need of a good night’s sleep.”

  Benjamin was getting ready to step into the shower. “We could cancel tomorrow and just rest.”

  “If we do that, we won’t be able to dive the wreck. The dive shop is booked for the rest of the week.”

  “Fine, we’ll go tomorrow,” said Benjamin turning on the shower. “I’ll be glad just get rid of the salt on my skin.” Reaching for the soap, he felt Mika’s naked body against him.

  “May I join you?”

  “I guess you’re not as tired as you thought.”

  Mika just smiled.

  The following morning Benjamin and Mika met up with the two dive instructors, Melvin Pusey and George Montenegro, for an excursion to a sunken freighter on the northwest side of the island.

  “No one else is making the trip?” asked Mika.

  “The Canadian couple called to cancel. Seems they drank too much last night,” said Melvin turning his face so they couldn’t see his grin. “Remember the Hilma Hooker lies partially on the reef at only ninety feet, but if you come out on the north side, it drops off hundreds of feet. During the dive we’ll run a line for you to follow back. The interior is pitch black but loaded with marine life.”