The Syrian (Natasha Kelly, Mossad Spy)

by Felicia Mires

  "It is time to radio Yaakov."

  Natasha swallowed hard. "Will you tell him now or wait until we get back?"

  "Now. He would expect that."

  Hassan set the radio near the opening of the cave so it would broadcast properly. The conversation would be brief, or their location could be compromised to Jordan's radar.

  Yaakov was incensed by Jake's death, but he accepted Hassan's explanation. "Is Miss Kelly well?"

  "Yes, she does what she can to locate the ashes."

  "Contact me later."

  Hassan put the radio away.

  "Now tell me…who is Yaakov?" Dirk demanded.

  He listened to Hassan's explanation with rapt attention, absently rubbing his chin and nodding from time to time. When Hassan finished and picked up his flashlight, Dirk looked from Natasha to Hassan. "To accomplish all we suspect him of…his network must be extensive."

  "It is. But now we must locate the relic, or Natasha won't be in a very secure position."

  "How can I help?"

  Natasha dug in her pack and handed him John's notes. "Read this, so you'll know what we're looking for."

  The next few hours were tiring beyond belief. They stayed up all night, searching one cave after another, leaving a small marker just inside the entrance so they wouldn't duplicate their efforts.

  Their eyes burned, and they were covered in bat guano long before morning came. Finally, Hassan called a halt. "It's time to call Yaakov."

  Natasha's stomach dropped. How would he take the news of failure?

  His reaction, however, came across rather mild. "It's been missing for two thousand years. What's one more night? Are you narrowing down the possibilities?"

  "Yes," Hassan lied.

  "It will be sunrise soon. Go to ground. Don't use the radio during the day unless it's an emergency. Call me again after dark."

  The radio went dead.

  Dirk was the first to speak. "What are your plans for the day?"

  "We have enough supplies for three. You are welcome to join us. We should prepare for a long sleep in the caves. Natasha, you requested privacy. You had best obtain it before daylight."

  They returned to their original position and arranged sleeping in the cave. Natasha left the two men to discuss whether they needed a security watch throughout the day.

  Outside, Natasha felt her first taste of freedom and privacy since she'd been kidnapped. She sat on a jutting boulder and drank in cold, clear air.

  He came for me. In a black turtleneck, bomber jacket, and black-mottled fatigues, he still looked like a movie star, and she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around his neck and cry. He came.

  As soon as she put on the earrings, she'd wondered if he'd even notice the activation. For him to notice meant he checked a satellite monitor every day…just in case. But what did that mean? Did he really care for her, or was it just his job? Maybe she didn't want to know the answer to that. What if it wasn't what she wanted to hear?

  Natasha prayed then climbed further away to get cleaned up for a long day stuck in a cave. She was on her way back when she heard her name.

  Dirk stood outside the cave, softly calling to her. "Natasha, where are you?"

  She stopped her descent and sat on the cliffside. "Here."

  He climbed up to her then dropped beside her.

  A few moments of silence were all she could take. "Where's David?"

  "Benjamin is as close as he can get to your previous position in Syria. Someone had to remain there. Someone had to follow the earrings."

  Dirk's voice held that flat tone he got whenever she talked about David. In that respect, he and David were completely alike.

  "Did you flip for it again?" Though teasing, she anxiously awaited his answer.

  Dirk's demeanor, if anything, grew even more reserved.

  "No. The earrings moved. I followed."

  "Why? Why did you come?"

  "Did you think I wouldn't?"

  What she wouldn't give for a straight answer. "I wasn't sure if you'd be able to receive a signal in the States."

  "There is nowhere you can go that I can't find you. They were expressly designed for that purpose."

  Though direct, his answers told her nothing about the state of his heart. Natasha tried a different tack.

  "I hoped it would be you."

  She rose and climbed down to the cave to lie down. Hassan was already asleep. Dirk followed her and knelt at her side. His hand traced the line of her jaw. "Then we both got what we wanted."

  He lay down, making sure he was in the front line should anyone happen upon their position. After moving a few jagged stones from her backside, Natasha fell asleep, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

  Natasha woke to a stiff back and the feeling that something creepy had just crawled across her body. She opened her eyes to see a tiny brown lizard scurry away. Ugh. She stretched. The air felt cold and damp and smelled of bat poo.

  When she sat up, she saw Dirk and Hassan against the opposite wall, conversing in low tones. The sun shone through the cave opening, creating a stunning display of gilded dust particles. They noticed her movement, and a grin tugged at Dirk's lips.

  "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

  "Hah, Sleeping Beauty was kissed awake by a prince."

  "I've played that part. Is that an invitation?"

  "Not without a toothbrush."

  Hassan laughed. "I see you two have a history together."

  "More like a future," said Dirk.

  Hassan raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "Natasha, would you care for something to eat?"

  "That would be great, but I really prefer some private time first. I suppose leaving the cave is out of the question?"

  Hassan stood, taking a pair of binoculars with him. "I'll check."

  Moments later, he returned. "I saw nothing. Be quick."

  "I hear and obey." Natasha jumped up and left the cave, carefully climbing to a remote spot. The heat of late afternoon bounced off the rocks into her face. What a good thing the cave remained cool. Oh, how she longed for a shower.

  When she was ready to return to the cave, she saw a path that appeared easier to traverse. She climbed toward it, but encountered a slight crevasse she'd have to hop over. Leaning out, she propelled herself forward, landing solidly on a large flat boulder…which immediately gave way. For several seconds, Natasha found herself grappling for balance as she road atop an avalanche of boulders and sand. It slid to a teetering stop on an outcrop of rocks. Open air stretched before her.

  Thank you, Lord.

  How she hadn't gone over the side of the cliff, she didn't know. She turned to follow the path of her descent and saw a small opening, newly exposed. Not really a cave, but still, an opening. She wasn't about to climb that unstable rock again, so she made her way back to Dirk and Hassan. Her appearance, more bedraggled and forlorn than before, brought immediate reaction.

  That predictable eyebrow of Dirk's shot up. "What happened to you?"

  "I jumped over to this rock, and it slid down the mountain. But I found a hole that looks promising. Can we investigate it?"

  Hassan frowned. "Will we be exposed?"

  "Completely, but the ground is very unstable. It may cave in more, and I'm not sure we could safely inspect it in the dark."

  "I'll go. Show me."

  They walked out of their hiding place, and she briefly pointed the way. Hassan crept gingerly over the rocks. Natasha went back into hiding.

  Inside the cave, Dirk waited for her with food and water. "Did you sleep well?"

  "Very well. It was quiet here compared to sleeping in a room with John. He snores. How 'bout you?"

  "The first relaxing sleep I've had since you started this crazy adventure."

  She gazed at him over the rim of her thermos. "You were worried?"

  "I've been learning to pray."

  "So have I."

  She ate her food slowly. There were so many things she wante
d to ask him. They didn't seem important now. But sometime soon, they'd have to discuss a few issues. Except the pictures. She had to know what he thought about those horrid pictures. How could she bring it up? There was no easy way.

  "Dirk…about those pictures."

  "Forget it. Your personal life is none of my business."

  That didn't sound like a man trying to have a relationship with a woman. It threw her off.

  "So you think that's who I am?" She felt sick remembering the faces in the pictures.

  "What are you talking about? You and Benjamin can bloody well do whatever you want."

  David Benjamin? That's all that bothered him? What a relief.

  She reached for his arm. "Nothing happened. I know it looks like something happened. But it was nothing. Not for me, anyway. And I told him so…many times." She waited, but he didn't respond.

  When it felt like she'd been holding her breath forever, he spoke. "You are free to pursue and be pursued by whomever you wish." She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off. "Let's not have unpleasant conversations today. We have precious little time together. I don't want to argue."

  Not a complete put-down, but certainly not what she'd been hoping for. This man had more layers than a bride's petticoat.

  "Of course. What would you like to discuss? Oh…thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful and encouraging during all that dreadful training. But you never sent a card. A couple of weeks went by before I saw David. He told me they were from you." She grinned and added in a sing-song voice, "He said you were just trying to outdo him."

  "If I'd meant to impress, I would have sent a card. The flowers were to cheer you up. I know training can be wearing on the nerves. Have you learned anything useful?"

  "Lots. I shoot better, fight better, build a bomb, defuse a bomb, read invisible ink letters, make really cool disguises-"

  "My little chameleon."

  "You wrote that on the picture I keep in my suitcase."

  "To keep away the roaches?"

  "Must not have worked. Yaakov took me anyway."

  At last she got a smile from him. He moved closer.

  "Why do you keep my picture hidden in your suitcase?" He murmured against her ear, causing her to shiver.

  "I saw no reason to advertise it."

  "Hmm." His face was poised inches from hers.

  Hassan came crashing through the entrance, covered with dirt and grime. "I found something. I think this is it, but you're right, Natasha. It's very unstable." He brushed dirt out of his face and hair while he spoke. "It will be difficult to excavate in the dark, but I anchored some posts…which I've hidden. We'll have some secure places on which to put our weight. I saw several pots…urns…vessels…whatever you call them. Something's there. We'll wait until dark." He stared at them. "By the way, I didn't mean to interrupt anything. Should I come back later?"

  Natasha felt intensely uncomfortable, but Dirk smiled. "Not at all. We have a long history of interruptions. Some day we'll reach the end."

  "I prefer to think of it as the beginning."

  "Touché." Dirk shot her an appraising glance.

  Hassan furrowed his brow. "You've worked together before."

  "Yes," Natasha spoke quickly before Dirk could comment. "Dirk was assigned to protect me while I looked for something Israel wanted. If you're working with Yaakov, how is it you didn't know?"

  "The Mossad have had their eye on him without expecting too much. I've been working on deep cover for months. I rarely have any contact with my superiors. But recently, Yaakov escalated his activities, and I received word to increase my exposure. I was surprised you didn't know who he was. Surely my superiors had already put that together from everything I sent in?"

  Natasha made a face. "I don't think they always tell me everything. What I don't know can't hurt me."

  "The Mossad higher-ups are notoriously close-to-the-belt, if you know what I mean."

  "Yes," said Natasha dryly. "I'm beginning to see that. I suppose all of you have that devious nature?" She shot Dirk a look.

  "On the contrary," he said. "I'm completely straightforward. Besides, I'm used to it. It's called Need to Know, and obviously…you don't."

  "Ohhh," sputtered Natasha. "I'm beginning to think all spies are half-crazy."

  Hassan winked. "It helps."

  The rest of the afternoon they chatted about the outside world or rehashed plans. They all agreed on one thing. If they obtained the ashes, they must keep them out of the hands of Yaakov. Dirk would take the real ashes back to Israel. They would give Yaakov a substitute.

  Dusk came quickly, and the air began to cool. Hassan made radio contact with Yaakov. "It is nearly time for us to begin our search. It grows dark here."

  "Has the girl given you any trouble?"

  "She obeys every command."

  "She fears for the monk. Tell her he is alive and well. Find the ashes." Yaakov terminated the conversation.

  Dirk crossed his arms across his chest and raised that perfect blond eyebrow. "That's the first time I've heard Natasha described as obedient."

  "I lied," grinned Hassan.

  Natasha put her hands on her hips. "If you're quite finished slaying my character…we have some ashes to find."

  They gathered their gear and climbed the slope, sliding often over the loose gravel. Hassan led the way, pointing out the anchored posts.

  When he reached the crevasse, he held up a hand. "Proceed with caution. A cave-in will bury all we hope to find." He had widened the crevasse so they could drop easily through the gap. He pulled a rope from his pack. "Down you go."

  Natasha put on gloves and held tightly to the rope anchored by the two men. When she touched bottom, she turned on a lamp and walked as far back as the cave would allow. Several copper pots, clay bowls, and shards littered the floor.

  With great care, she wrapped everything that looked like a sealed vessel. Some were quite tall and heavy. Maneuverability was a problem in the small space. Male muscle-power would have helped things along, but she finally managed to wrap the largest one and get it off the ground.

  She raised her voice toward the opening. "Be careful lifting this. It's breakable."

  Once Dirk and Hassan had removed the vessel to a safer position, they let the rope down, repeating the process until all sealed vessels rested outside the cave.

  Natasha retrieved her lamp, and they pulled her to safety. The whole process took less than two hours, but dust and grime covered every inch of her. She sat on a boulder to get her breath while Hassan plotted the safest route down the mountain.

  Dirk reached out and tucked some stray hair behind her ear. "All right?"

  "It got difficult to breathe there at the end. I stirred up a lot of dust."

  He pulled out a handkerchief and held it out to her. She took it, smiling. Ever the refined gentleman.

  Hassan turned to face them. "Getting the vessels down the mountain will not be easy. You must keep your balance, while maintaining the additional weight and…" He paused. "Prevent the urns from coming into contact with the side of the mountain. I think we should form a line and pass them down one level at a time, each of us keeping near an anchor for support."

  "Are we headed to the original cave?" asked Natasha, standing.

  "Yes."

  Chapter 9

  The process was long and arduous, made more difficult by working in the dark. At each pass of the hands, they had to verify each other's hold on the urns. Natasha developed a stabbing pain in her right shoulder, but she kept moving, trying to shift the burden of weight to her left side.

  Hassan had taken the bottom position, and they saved the largest vessel for last. Dirk came down beside her, supporting more than his share of the heavy pot. When they drew even with Hassan, Dirk refused to let her carry the awkward burden any farther. She followed each step they took until they all stood outside the cave.

  Hassan slid the urn closer to the bank of the cave wall and leaned against it. "Let's
take a break."

  They rested a few minutes, drinking water and catching their breath, but Natasha's anticipation grew. Could this be what the Jews had searched for?

  She stood. "We have to open them or we won't know we found the right thing. I hate to ruin such an archaeological find, but we have no choice. John's life is more important than a bunch of dust. There's one thing, though. The ashes are sacred and untouched. If they become unclean, they'll be useless. We don't touch them, or let anything else touch them. I don't want the wrath of some Jewish priest rained down on my head."

  "Agreed," said Hassan.

  They broke away the wax from the lid of the largest vessel, careful to save it for later examination. Inside was a rolled up scroll. Though tantalizing, it wasn't what they sought, so they immediately sealed the lid again.

  The next vessel made a soft noise when shaken. Their excitement increased when they tipped it over to peer inside. Some type of dust! Hassan trained his light on the inside, and Natasha sighed. Ground meal or flour. Another extraordinary historical discovery, but not what they needed.

  After several more disappointing finds, only two sealed urns remained. The next to last made a shooshing sound when moved, something like the ground meal, but it also had a few clunks. Dirk pulled off the lid, allowing Natasha to examine the contents while Hassan shined the flashlight.

  She lifted her head. "Ashes. And some pungent aroma, like incense or spice."

  They looked at each other in astonishment.

  "What do we do now?" asked Hassan.

  "We switch them." Natasha pointed. "Get that empty jug. We'll wash it out and dry it. Then we'll pour a minute amount of ash in the bottom in case Yaakov decides to have it analyzed. We'll add some other ash, and it will have to do."

  "That would be the best course of action," said Dirk. "But we can't build a fire without attracting attention, and we don't have any ashes."

  "I do." Hassan astonished them by pulling out a small plastic jar of ashes from one of his packs. "I believe in coming prepared."

  "Hooray!" Natasha cheered. "Let's leave the last jug for Mossad headquarters to open under clinical conditions. That should make their little hearts palpitate with joy."