Abigail Spy Or Die

by Rose Fox

  “Good morning,” she said without turning round, “I apologize and imagine that you are also disappointed. At least, I can console myself that I didn’t promise you a palace.”

  “Never mind a palace but, hey, I don’t know where to start to discover what it’s like.”

  “I wasn’t teasing,” she promised, “give me five or six days and see what we will find.”

  “No problem, you’ve got it! Where do you want to start?”

  “With a husband who can organize a cup of coffee and a slice of bread and butter and, perhaps, some cookies and…”

  “Hello there, aren’t you getting a bit carried away? Stop right there, my love.”

  “Karma, my sweetheart,” she said in a twangy tone and moved closer, embraced him in her arms and clung to him,

  “I’m so hungry that I could devour you in one piece.”

  He kissed her hair and noisily inhaled Abigail’s scent, which made them both burst out laughing and when he tried to kiss her brow, she raised her face and her lips met his. He kissed her eyes, and then her lips once more, mumbled soft words and syllables and pulled her to him gently.

  *

  Karma’s phone sounded a brief ping and when he read the message his pupils widened in terror.

  “Tomorrow, midnight, at ‘Chai Huneh.' Effendi.”

  He glanced at Abigail and quickly put his telephone in his pocket. A minute later, he went out into the yard.

  At first, he hesitated about confiding in his new wife, but he feared her great curiosity and shrewdness. He decided not to tell her anything lest that lead to questions he couldn’t cope with.

  Now, Karma felt like a frightened child. He thought, perhaps, of ignoring the message and claim he hadn’t received it. He remembered that his brother-in-law did not know he was now in Azerbaijan, a distance of more than two days’ travel away.

  Abigail came in from the yard, huffing, and puffing and saw the look on his face.

  “What happened?” she inquired as she pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator door and drank thirstily from it.

  Karma did not reply, perhaps he didn’t even hear her and after she had put the bottle back in its place she glanced at him again but decided to remain silent. She knew they each had secrets they couldn’t always share.

  “Would you like something to drink or should we prepare lunch?” she asked casually.

  “Can you leave me in peace?!” he yelled, arose from his chair, looked for his slippers and left their room.

  Abigail wrung her hands, wondering whether to leave him alone and decided to give up investigating and prepare lunch for both of them, instead.

  Karma climbed into bed, rested his head on his hands and calculated the long way from where he was to the pension in Stary Smokovec in Iran. It was many miles from their home. He doubted whether he could reach it by the next day at midnight. Thoughts raced through his mind and his head ached with worry. His fear was so great that he decided to consult with Abigail.

  “Naima, come here a second,” He called out and she came to the entrance to the room. She was drying her hands on a kitchen towel, and he calmed down the moment he saw the expression on her face. She sat down on the side of the bed, and Karma handed her the telephone and said:

  “Read this message, read it aloud.”

  She read dryly that tomorrow at midnight, Effendi would be waiting for him at ‘Chai Huneh’ then she looked up at him with her greenish eyes and only said:

  “You won’t get there on time unless you leave yesterday morning.” Then, she followed up with the question he dreaded the most.

  “Who is Effendi?”

  Till now, he knew he had been able to hide the fact of his being married and the father of two sweet daughters, whom he had left behind in the United States with their mother. His stomach ached with anxiety. He almost lied and told her that he was one of the members of the organization but, then he decided to tell only part of the truth.

  “Ah, he’s a member of my family.”

  “Is he also a Kurd? So what’s the problem, send him a message that…”

  “No. It’s true that he is a member of my family but, he is also my bitter enemy and he would have no compunction about slitting my throat.” He coughed a little and added:

  “Ah, yes, he also doesn’t know that I am married to you.”

  Of course, Karma didn’t know that Effendi, who was pursuing him, knew about his illusory marriage to this woman beside him and even made a clumsy attempt on her life on their wedding day.

  “What difference does it make who you’re married to?” She asked in astonishment, “Friend or foe, Karma, you’re not going to be able to reach him by tomorrow.”

  When she saw how he was crumpling the sheet he was lying on and the expression on his face, she understood that she hadn’t been able to placate him. He was afraid of something he couldn’t or didn’t want to share with her.

  “I think you should inform him of the enormous distance involved and try and arrange to meet him somewhere else. Fix a location that suits you so that he will actually be coming to ‘your paddock’.”

  “To where?” he asked. Where is the paddock?”

  Abigail’s laughter rang out.

  “No, silly, it’s an expression that says that he surrenders and is coming to meet you, where you decide and is humiliated. Do you get it?”

  “Sort of.”

  “If he really does come to the place you suggest and you insist on it – that’s already one zero in your favor.” Just from the way Karma was breathing, she knew she had not been able to mollify him.

  “Honey, let’s check this out together. If you meet him and he makes a demand, you can refuse or evade it. If he pulls a knife on you, you can retaliate with another weapon and if you aren’t interested in him – don’t reply and don’t go.”

  Karma chuckled. He supposed that she was suggesting this because she had no idea who Effendi was. But, what she said about where they should meet, made sense to him. He mumbled quietly:

  “So, where should I meet him?”

  “You should consider one of the two countries,” she suggested, “What do you think about Zanjan? It’s a province close to Azerbaijan.”

  “Wait, that’s about four or five hours away from here.”

  “That’s right. You can even make it there today, but that Effendi will need at least ten hours travel, perhaps even more so that he will only arrive there tomorrow before midnight. What do you think?”

  He sent Effendi a text message with trembling fingers:

  “Can come to Zanjan, midnight tomorrow.

  If you get there – we’ll meet.”

  He immediately wondered if Effendi would agree to meet at the venue he suggested since it would be like visiting his ‘paddock’ as Abigail had explained.

  “Okay, but where, precisely?”

  Karma thought about it and replied:

  “The Pahlevi neighborhood, Zanjan, near the split palm.”

  The laconic response arrived a minute later:

  “Agreed”

  ’What an idiotic little victory,' he thought and looked at his watch, tense and nervous.

  Khaidar also analyzed the situation. He presumed that Karma would consult his wife about their meeting. Khaidar was apprehensive about ‘Mossad’ agents, but believed that Karma would not involve them as he would regard this as an entirely personal family matter.

  Effendi planned to demand that Karma end his marriage and divorce his new wife. Effendi Khaidar was not a naïve man and since he presumed that Karma would not accede, he intended offering to sacrifice some undercover agents, unimportant small fry. Karma could present them as a gift to his ‘Mossad.’ In the event that Karma was obstinate and continued to refuse, he could threaten to break his cover and reveal his true identity and even let the ‘Kaukab’ organization kill him.

  By evening, Karma became more apprehensive about this meeting than of any dangerous assignment in enemy territory. For a
second, he thought of confiding in Michael, his operator, but he gave up the idea, because, like Effendi, he considered it an entirely personal matter.

  Before leaving, Karma equipped himself with a locator chip, which he planned to plant in Effendi’s car. It would inform of Effendi’s location at any given minute but, looked like an innocent metal button. Unable to sleep, he lay awake all night till he got out of bed and set out on his way.

  Abigail was woken when the car started and saw that it still was dark outside. She glanced at the clock with the luminous hands on her bedside table and saw in was a quarter past three.

  Her concern was aroused because he left secretly. She gathered that the matter was personal, but the sleuth in her pushed her to contact Michael, Karma’s operator, as well as hers and she, texted him a short message:

  “Who is Effendi?”

  The response was immediate:

  “Why?”

  And she replied:

  “My spouse went to meet him, and I’m anxious.”

  Michael texted her back:

  “What more do you know about the meeting?”

  Here, she paused because she thought that this meeting might be crucial to Karma and she might ruin it for him, even before it began. However, then she received another message on her cellphone screen:

  "The man is dangerous for your husband.

  Effendi is his relative and belongs to the ‘Kaukab’.”

  Abigail’s eyes opened wide in fright. At once she recalled the terrifying night and the trap set by Emir at the ‘Chai Huneh’ where she was almost killed by the ‘Kaukab’ agents. She texted Michael back, immediately:

  “Midnight. Zanjan, Pahlevi neighborhood,

  beside the split palm.”

  Effendi took precautions in advance of the meeting. First, he decided to send someone else ahead of him and called Adel.

  Adel was dark-skinned and bald and served as Effendi’s lackey. He was shrewd and worked for him only because Effendi paid for his meals and gave him sums of money from time to time for his keep. He wasn’t particularly smart and his loyalty shifted only to those who offered him better compensation or greater respect.

  Effendi was well aware of this but, till now there was never a problem, except for once when he found him talking to a tall man whose eyebrows shaded large amber-colored eyes. Effendi was furious and punched Adel when he realized that he had been talking to Karma.

  Adel cradled his aching arm and asked:

  “Why?”

  “That had better be the last time that you chat with someone you don’t know!” Effendi roared. “That man is dangerous!”

  Adel could not have imagined that the man was Effendi’s brother-in-law.

  “I have a meeting tomorrow at midnight,” Effendi told him without being too specific. He threw him a roll of banknotes, which he caught and quickly slipped into his pocket.

  “It’s at the far end of the Pahlevi neighborhood, in Zanjan and you have to get there first, is that clear?”

  “In Zanjan? Wow! That’s over the border! Who do you have to meet?”

  “First, stop whining. Mount your horse and when you get there; hide behind the split palm that you can see from a distance. Try not to be discovered, do you hear me? Y’allah, get going, there’s no time.”

  Adel nodded even though he had many questions, like: Where to eat or sleep on the long journey, or when Effendi will meet this meeting, and whether to remain hidden all the time? But he swallowed the questions.

  A quarter of an hour later, he placed the black headband over the kefiya that covered his bald pate and went out to the horse he loved, to prepare it for the long ride. He patted the back of its neck and caressed its long mane, mounted with a jump and clicked his tongue. The horse stood erect and turned its small ears to listen to him and they set off.

  Adel put his hand in his pocket, took out the roll of bills and counted them. He was already wondering what more there was to be gained from this meeting as he urged the horse into an easy gallop. He rode like that for many hours, sometimes slowing down to a gentle trot. The last rays of the sun had almost disappeared when his stomach began to rumble. He scanned the surroundings to verify his location and stopped near a line of rundown houses.

  He estimated that he had at least a day and a night’s ride to his destination. Adel saw the horse was tired and white froth covered his mouth. He dismounted, tied the horse to a post in a ramshackle fence and pushed it to a patch of grass and bushes. Walking clumsily, he climbed seven stairs to the first floor of the dilapidated building. He stood and knocked on the front door with his fist. It opened a little and he roughly pushed it open and entered the dark apartment.

  An old man recoiled in fright and in the minutes that followed he did everything possible to placate the stranger who had so rudely entered his home. He sat down as ordered by the man and watched him preparing a meal for himself. The old man was grateful to God that his family was out and he alone had been left at the mercy of the rude trespasser.

  “Where’s your bucket?” the stranger asked. The old man hurriedly gave him an old metal bucket, filled it with water and carried it out into the yard, to the sweating horse. Still tied to the fence, it kicked at the ground.

  Adel also went out and waited till his horse finished drinking, freed the tether from the post and led his horse to the rundown courtyard. For the next hour, he crouched on the ground, close to the outside wall. He watched his horse uprooting and grazing on the shrubs around it till he fell asleep.

  When voices were heard, doors opened and closed and people came and went, Adel woke up and decided to continue his journey. He jumped up on the saddle, frightening people coming home, and urged his horse to gallop.

  When daylight broke, he sensed the vibration of his cell phone, which was close to his chest.

  “Where are you, how far have you gone?” Effendi asked.

  Adel stopped riding and looked around. Just then, a terrifying noise was heard. Right before his astonished eyes, a plane took off. It was so close that the horse reared up on its hind legs, whinnying and kicking its hooves in the air. At the other end of the phone line, Effendi also heard the noise of the airplane and understood that Adel was already close to the border, near the small airfield located there.

  “Okay, in that case, you’ll get there in another few hours.”

  “Ah, no problem, Boss, when will you arrive?”

  The call was disconnected and Adel shrugged and rode on.

  He crouched on the horse’s neck and murmured endearments to him. The horse’s ears point back towards him, absorbing the encouragement, and its gallop became easier and faster.

  Michael also prepared for the same meeting. He enlisted his son, Timmy, to join him. At the time, he had been asked by the organization to accompany both Abigail and Karma and he took up residence in Azerbaijan.

  “Let’s plan our departure because we have four or five hours to reach the meeting place,” Michael informed his son.

  “Who’s meeting who?”

  “The ‘Noodle’ is meeting Effendi. By the way, did you see the Noodle leaving his home last night?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Oh, what are you saying?”

  The split palm was the famous symbol of the ghost town, which was almost deserted by its inhabitants and could be seen in the distance from all directions. When Michael reached it, he slowed down and stopped where the paved road ended.

  The whinnying of a horse was heard and he saw a brown horse waving its tail back and forth over it’s rear as it nibbled at the grass and the meager undergrowth. Michael suddenly started the car, reversed at speed and straightened out behind a row of semi-dry bushes.

  “What happened?” Timmy inquired and peered through the brush in front of them.

  “Look, that horse is shining with sweat and has a saddle on its back. It must have got here a short while ago and instead of us surveilling its rider, it seems that he is watching us.”

 
; Near the trunk of the split palm, the fabric of a kefiya was flapping and Timmy whispered hoarsely:

  “Shhhh…someone close to the tree is staring at us,” and at that very moment, in the small mirror above him, Michael saw a dust cloud and said quickly:

  “And behind it, a car is arriving now.”

  Karma was driving the car and he had already noticed Michael and Timmy’s car from a distance but assumed that it was Effendi’s car, which was why he slowed down and stopped parallel to it. Michael saw him and immediately tried to get his attention and pointed at the palm, but Karma didn’t understand and didn’t hear what he was saying. When he got out of his car, he also noticed the kefiya flapping behind the trunk of the palm. Right away, he stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled hard and long in its direction. Adel understood that he had been spotted. He came out from behind the trunk and suddenly recognized Karma. He recoiled in a panic, as he identified him as the man Effendi had attacked him for speaking to and called an enemy. Karma remembered him, too, but didn’t know, of course, what had transpired after their conversation. He also did not consider a possible connection between the man and his brother-in-law, Effendi.

  “A’halan, ta’al l’hon (Hello, come here)!” He shouted to him, but Adel didn’t move. He didn’t know what to do or how to behave.

  Michael decided to get out of the way and retreated.

  “Where are you going, Dad?”

  “I’m letting this meeting go ahead without us,” Michael announced. He parked his car alongside the wall of the building and got out. The two walked secretly back the place they had left just now.

  At this time, Effendi Khaidar was a few kilometers away from the meeting place and called Adel to inquire whether Karma had already arrived.

  ‎ ”Yes, Boss,” Adel replied in a weepy voice, “but he’s the man you said is our enemy and now he his whistling and calling me!”

  Khaidar ignored his remarks, understood for now that Karma was already there and said:

  “Listen here, Adel, get into his car and sit in it. I rely on you to find a way to puncture all the wheels of his car, without him noticing, of course.”

  “Wait, Boss, if I sit with him…” Effendi hung up and fortunately for him, Karma yelled to him, inviting him to get in his car.