“Do you understand me?” Lemieux roared.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, what have you learned?”
“The two killed in Sharm el-Sheikh were definitely our men—confirmed by our other teams there.”
“Why didn’t they wait?” Lemieux yelled, grabbing another lamp, then putting it down. “The other teams were within—what—an hour or two? If they had waited as they had been ordered, Accad would be dead. Did you tell them to wait?”
“Yes, sir, just like you told me. But if you remember, the team was LeBlanc and DuCharme. They’ve always been good at what they did, but they had a history of doing their own thing. They must have thought they could take Accad down themselves.”
Lemieux squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. “Make it clear to everyone involved that no more independent actions will be tolerated. Let them know that if they act on their own, if Accad doesn’t kill them, I will!”
“Yes, sir.”
“What more can you tell me?”
“Apparently he is not alone anymore.”
“Oh, great,” Lemieux said, sitting on the bed. “Do we know who he is?”
“It’s not a he; it’s a she.”
Lemieux jumped to his feet. “A woman? Is she one of their operatives?”
“Could be. When we first started looking for Accad, we had checked on any old girlfriends. There’s nothing there.”
“Interesting.” If she was one of the Accad & Associates team, she could mean trouble for them. But if she was someone Accad had picked up along the way, she could mean a major weakness for him.
“Find out who she is. Fast!”
“Yes, sir. Also, we’ve discovered that he made his escape from Sharm el-Sheikh by boat.”
“Boat? Which direction?”
“We don’t know, sir. He was lost in the gulf traffic.”
“What options would he have?”
“There are all sorts of places they could be going down the Red Sea—El Gouna, Soma Bay, Marsa Alam, all the resort areas along Egypt’s coast. If they went up the Gulf of Aqaba, they would see Dahab, Taba, then up to Eilat and Aqaba. There’s also Saudi Arabia, but I don’t think that’s a viable option.”
Lemieux paced silently. Where are you running to? Where would I go if I were you? Your greatest asset is your ability to blend in. The farther south you go into Africa, the more you’ll stand out. But if you go north, you’ve got your home of Lebanon and, ultimately, Europe. That’s got to be it. I’m onto you, Accad. You can run, but you cannot hide forever.
“Edgard, keep an eye on the Red Sea coast, but I believe he’s going north up the gulf. Watch the Egyptian coasts and Aqaba, Jordan.”
“What about Eilat?”
Lemieux shook his head. “He’d be a fool to try. And we’d be fools to try anything if he did make it in. Is there anything else I need to know?”
“No, sir.”
Lemieux hung up without another word.
Immediately the phone rang again.
“What now?” he answered.
“Inspector Lemieux?”
Goddard, Lemieux thought, wishing he had checked his caller ID before answering so that he could have let it go to voice mail.
“What is it, Goddard?”
“Have you heard of the activity in Sharm el-Sheikh? One man stabbed and another—”
“Of course I’ve heard of it! What does that have to do with us?”
“Well, it sounds very much like our man Accad, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think it does.”
“What? How can you say that? Two, at least thus far, anonymous corpses. Both killed in a fairly professional way.”
“And what about the woman?”
“The . . . uh . . . there was a woman?”
“Goddard, you fool! Get all the information before you start jumping to conclusions!” He needed to throw Goddard off this trail, and quickly. “Those two men in Sharm el-Sheikh were killed by a man and a woman—the man killed one in the street with a knife, and the woman shot the other in a shop. Unless you think Accad has suddenly become half of a new Bonnie and Clyde, I suggest you get yourself to Beirut and Ramy Accad, and have your men follow the actual lead of the rental car south from Cairo! Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
Lemieux hung up. He stood breathing deeply to calm himself. At the desk, he called the hotel manager to complain about the cheap lamps that shatter when they are accidentally knocked off a table. After accepting the manager’s apologies and promises of a cleanup and a replacement, he sat, poured himself a brandy, and began plotting how to bring Goddard down if he started getting too close.
50
A pounding on the boat startled Marwan.
“Hey, wake up! Hey, mister!”
“What? Who . . . ?” The words caught in Marwan’s throat.
Next to him, he heard Dalia softly say, “Wow.” Marwan soon followed suit.
It looked like the sea around them was alive with giant, colorful butterflies skimming across the waves. Once he was fully awake, he saw that the water surrounding them was filled with windsurfers riding boards of all colors and sizes.
The young man slapping the boat was wearing a blue and black wet suit and had his rig up against the starboard side of the ski boat. “Hey, mister, you’re not allowed to have a boat in this lagoon.”
Marwan looked beyond him and saw two other guys straddling their boards just a few meters off, glaring at him.
“Sorry, man, we were just out here partying last night, and I guess we got a little too wasted.”
The guy laughed. “I don’t know if there’s such a thing as ‘too wasted,’ but I know what you mean. Anyway, only boarders out here riding the dawn patrol are allowed. You best clear out before the heat comes and starts asking you questions.”
“Good call. Sorry about that.”
With a shake of his head, the guy lifted his rig and skimmed off into the lagoon.
Marwan moved to the front seat and fired up the boat. He only put the throttle at a quarter so he could ease his way among all the sails. When he was clear, he pointed the boat toward shore.
“You never told me what you thought about what I said last night,” he said once they were under way.
“I’m not sure what to say,” Dalia replied, taking the other front seat. Even with her hair sticking every which way after spending the night drifting at sea, she still looked stunningly beautiful. “It’s going to take me a while to digest everything. I can tell you that I understand why you lied. I can’t say that I like it, but I do understand. I also know that despite what you think about yourself, I still feel that you are a good man, Marwan Accad—you know, it’s going to take me a bit of time to get used to that name.”
“Well, get ready for another,” he said. “Here, take the wheel.”
“What? What do you mean another?” Dalia asked as she traded seats.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet. It was a bit larger than the typical bifold, and Dalia had made fun of it more than once.
From his other pocket, he produced his pocketknife. Carefully, he cut the stitches that were holding the leather panels together. When one side was separated, he reached in and pulled out a British passport that was creased in the middle and wrapped in plastic. Then he slid a Visa credit card out from one side of the opening and an American Express from the other.
He handed the passport to Dalia, who opened it up. “Andrew Cooper?”
“At your service,” Marwan said with a half bow. “I’m just down here honeymooning with my new wife, Helga, and I—”
“Helga?” Dalia said with a mortified look on her face.
“Gertrude?”
“Uh, no,” she answered.
“Minnie?”
“Minnie? Very funny.”
“So, my dear, what would you like your name to be?”
Dalia looked around and saw the sun coming up over the barren hills of Saudi Arabi
a on the far side of the gulf. “How about Dawn?”
“Dawn,” Marwan said thoughtfully. “I like it. Dawn Cooper née Khoury—we have to account for your accent somehow. Switch back with me.”
They traded seats again, and Marwan took the wheel.
“Oh yeah,” he said, reaching into his waistband and pulling out the gun he had taken from his first victim last night. Holding his hand overboard, he let it drop into the gulf.
They were getting near the shore. Marwan spotted a small dock with some open slips, and he pointed the boat that direction.
“What are we doing now?” Dalia asked.
“Getting new transportation. We’re almost out of fuel.”
“Then what?”
“I’m not sure. We could drive north to the Med, then make our way up to Lebanon. I’ve got tons of resources there. Or we could try to sneak into Israel through Eilat.”
Dalia chuckled. “‘Sneak into Israel.’ That’s almost funny.”
“Yeah, I guess Israel’s not known for easy border access.”
“I say we keep going to my parents’ house in Ma’an.”
“No way,” Marwan said, looking hard at Dalia. “I’ve already put you in danger. There is no chance I’m going to do the same to your parents.”
“But they can help us. I know they can. Dad used to be in the military. He still has connections.”
“It’s Jordan; everyone used to be in the military. But it still isn’t safe.”
Leaning forward and grabbing his arm with both her hands, Dalia pleaded, “You yourself said that there was no way the people chasing you could know who I am. Please, Marwan, you know I’m right. And I really feel like I need to see them right now.”
Marwan didn’t say anything as he eased the boat into the slip and tied her off. How can I say no to her after all I’ve put her through? She needs this. Besides, once you have a safe place to work from, you should be able to put this all to bed.
“Okay, but you have to promise to follow my lead and do exactly as I say,” Marwan said.
“Of course, honey,” Dalia said with a wink. “After all, we’re married. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?”
Marwan couldn’t help but smile as he shook his head. He had a feeling that in the years ahead, Dalia following his lead and doing exactly as he said would be the exception rather than the rule. But with this girl, I really wouldn’t want it any other way.
51
Once they were onshore, they started walking north up the coastline. It felt good to be out of the boat and stretching their legs. The morning was already starting to get warm, but the sand was still cool on their feet. They mostly made small talk, and every now and then Dalia would kind of fade out for a few moments. Then, just as quickly, she’d be back in the conversation. Marwan figured she was processing the events of the previous night. He decided not to pursue it.
After about a mile, they came upon a market area. Marwan saw some boats piered, so he sent Dalia off to find provisions while he went to rent a boat.
His cover story of being a newlywed staying at the Sirtaki Hotel was accepted without a question in this tourist town, especially after the generous tip he added for the all-day rental.
He was a little disappointed when he saw where the owner was leading him. The boat was old and smelled like fish, but it was functional and had a healthy-sounding engine. By the time Dalia found him on the dock, he and the owner had it ready to go. After one final warning to watch for big cruise ships and to stay away from the Saudi Arabian shoreline, the man tossed off the lines and waved good-bye.
“How does the owner feel about you stealing his boat?” Dalia asked, only half-jokingly.
“Oh, he was perfectly fine with it. Says he has them stolen all the time,” Marwan answered. “Besides, we’re renting it just like we said. We’re just going to return it to a different location. And trust me, there’s enough money on that card number for him to cover whatever expenses he has getting the boat back, plus more.”
“Well, I guess that makes it all right. Doesn’t it, Mr. Cooper?”
Marwan turned to her. “Please, Dalia, I don’t feel good about this either. This is not how I like to operate things. I pride myself in staying aboveboard and legal. This, however, is an unusual circumstance, and I’m forced to do things out of necessity that I wish I didn’t have to do. Your comments are not making it any easier.”
“You’re right,” Dalia said, moving behind him and draping her arms over his shoulders. She sighed heavily and leaned against him. “I guess I’m still having difficulty with the transition from bored flight attendant to international fugitive.”
“It gets easier,” Marwan laughed. Dalia gave him a light slap on the shoulder, then followed it with a quick kiss after she saw him wince. His shoulder was definitely getting better, but it was still a long way from healed. “So what did you find us in the market? I’m starving.”
Dalia retrieved her bags and showed off her purchases. “We’ve got fruit—pears, figs, dates, and a few bananas. I found some cheese, a little dried fish, and some wonderful-smelling bread.”
“Fantastic. I’ll have a little—no, make that a lot—of everything.”
They ate as they headed north up the gulf. Marwan had checked a map at the boat rental shop and estimated the distance to be a little over a hundred kilometers to Aqaba, Jordan. With this boat, that would mean about a three-and-a-half to four-hour trip. He actually wished it were longer. As long as they were out on this boat in the middle of this beautiful blue water, it felt like all their troubles were miles away. Here they were safe. Once they hit shore, who knew what would be waiting for them? They would be sneaking into another country under false identities with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
“Oh no,” Marwan abruptly yelled out.
“What?” Dalia cried, dropping low.
Marwan saw the fear in Dalia’s eyes. “It’s nothing. It’s just . . . I thought of something we left back in the hotel room.”
Relief flooded Dalia’s face as she lifted herself back onto the seat. “What, clean underwear?”
Marwan chuckled. “Yeah, that too. No, I just realized I left the Bible that Kadeen had given to me. It was his own personal study Bible, and it meant so much to him. I can’t believe I lost it!”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Dalia tore another piece of bread, laid a piece of fish and some cheese on it, and handed it to Marwan.
He nodded his thanks and took a bite. “What do you think about the Bible? Do you really think it’s the actual Word of God? Because Kadeen did. To him, that book was straight from the mouth of the Almighty.”
“I think I do,” Dalia answered. “I remember my dad preaching in the church, giving all these reasons about the truth of God’s Word and the truth of who Jesus was. He called it ‘evidence that demands a verdict’ or something like that.”
“Yeah, Kadeen told me about some of that stuff. He talked about all the copies that are out there of the New Testament and why we can trust the Bible we have today.”
Dalia nodded as she bit deeply into a pear. The juices ran down her arm, and she scrambled to find something to wipe herself off with. “I remember my dad talking about those things, too,” she said, using an old rag she found on the deck to mop up her arm. But then she smelled the rag and dropped it to the ground. “Yuck! What’s stayed with me most, though, even after all these years, was when he talked about the disciples.”
Marwan took another bite and asked through a half-filled mouth, “Those were the guys who hung out with Jesus, right? Like Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Peter, Paul—all those guys?”
“Well, not all of them. I know Luke and Paul weren’t disciples—they came later. And I don’t think Mark was either. But anyway, yes, the disciples were the ones who were with Jesus. Do you know that every single one of them was killed for preaching about Jesus? No, wait, I take that back. John was only exiled to some island.”
“You mean John the
Baptist? the guy who ate grasshoppers and nasty stuff like that?” Marwan asked. A few of the stories about Israel he had read in in-flight magazines were coming back to his mind.
Dalia shook her head and laughed. “No, a different John. Sometimes the names get confusing. But anyway, all the rest were killed. I remember my dad saying that if you were about to be killed for something you knew to be a lie, don’t you think you would admit it and save yourself?”
“I see what you’re saying. Either these guys were caught up in some mass hysteria, were smoking some things they should not have been smoking, or they actually believed what it was they were preaching about.”
“Exactly.”
“See, I’m a pretty quick student when I put my mind to it,” Marwan said, bouncing his eyebrows a few times. “But, Pastor Dalia, I don’t see what that has to do with the Bible.”
“First of all, don’t call me that,” she said, sounding serious. “I’m so far from deserving that title, I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Fair enough.”
“To answer your question, most of the New Testament was written while these people were still alive. If any of the facts were wrong, they would have been challenged. I remember there’s one point where Paul is talking about Jesus rising from the dead—where was it? I memorized it once for a scholarship to Bible camp. I know it was at the end of a long one like Romans or Corinthians. But anyway, in this section he actually comes out and challenges them to check his facts. He’s like, ‘Jesus died, he rose again, and he appeared to the disciples and five hundred or so other people, most of whom are still alive.’ According to my dad, that was like a flat-out challenge.”
“But with all that, you’re still not convinced.”
Dalia looked off into the sea. Then, without looking at Marwan, she said, “No, I think I’m convinced. My problem is that I keep trying to convince myself that I’m not convinced.”
Marwan slouched back in the seat. Even though he still had the same salty spray cooling him down, the same wonderful smell of the sea, the same hot sun cleansing his pores, he no longer felt the same peace he had just minutes before. There was a restless feeling inside of him, a feeling he only got when he started thinking about this whole God thing.
The Witness Page 18