A strange camaraderieA Story by Haim Kadman#suspense, #thriller, #mystery books. If you're a citizen of the Western part of the world or a free and enlightened thinker in any other part of the world, and you wish to understand the mentality, mA
strange camaraderie The Red
Square An
excerpt When he
reached the hotel at last, he went straight to the bar. He needed a drink
badly. He hardly crossed the bar’s threshold when a waiter dropped his empty
platter on the counter with a sharp noise. It resounded loud and clear all over
the small hall. What a
well timed welcome… Paul thought sardonically. If they didn’t
bump me off outside I’m safe… I don’t think the bartender doesn’t know who I’m;
they’re trying to get on my nerves. Some
ordinary guests that were simple citizens watched him with curiosity. Paul
ordered a double scotch paid drank it with a few gulps and went right afterward
to the hotel’s restaurant, he was terribly hungry. What a
somber country, what fear ridden citizens… What do they know at Langley about
the mentality, the fears of the average
Russian that perceives right away every move, every sign without any
clandestine training? Paul thought gloomily while having his supper. The
moment that waiter gave the sign, almost everyone there watched me, all those
who had nothing to do with it, but knew very well that I’m the current prey "
what a ghoulish feeling it was…Why was I sent here? He went on thinking
munching his food,
hardly noticing what he was eating. Do they think the high and mighty
back home, that I’ll work some miracle, form a net or get them a source or two
" in this spider web country? Or is it a premeditated failure, in which
I play the blind tool, a tool that can be disposed of " a sacrifice for
someone’s egotistical ambitions…? With
these gruesome thoughts Paul went up to his room. He did not feel like going
out and mingle with some strangers in some bar or a night club, as he did
almost every night before. He was exhausted mentally and physically. Back in
his room he sat a short while before the TV screen, zapped the few foreign
channels absent mindedly; tried the local ones to catch up a few more words in
Russian in vain. He simply could not concentrate. The early meeting with Sam
troubled him, while having met Tania or whatever her name is, later on, augmented
his frustration. He did not make any foolish mistakes and left her right in
time, but he could not rid himself from a certain feeling, which he could not
even define yet " the inkling of having missed a rare opportunity. As soon as
he realized it he switched off the TV, and sat pondering over it. I wonder
if I would have had the guts to leave her behind, get up and go if I would have
met her again… He thought smiling, as if he admitted to
himself his own weaknesses. But Tania is not the last straw that broke the
camel’s back… It’s Sam the herald of those who didn’t like my relation with
Alicia, a waitress and a Puerto Rican on top of it… But that has nothing to do
with that dubious mission of mine, there must be something else, something
that must have been brewing a long time already; and my relationship with
Alicia have made me the appropriate and handy scapegoat. It was one of
several possible explanations to this bizarre mission of his. The way he was
summoned with such urgency, the haphazard briefing… All he had to do as he was
told in a few words, was
to spend some time in this country, and wait till a certain agent would
get in contact with him. Sure,
I’ve been burned the moment I landed in this damn country, and if there’s such
type that waits for the right time to get in touch with me, he’s lying low if he exists at
all…There was talk on equipment and means, and I am supposed to persuade him to
expand, to recruit some more hands and turn them into a net, and here comes
this operator of mine and tells me that he stinks… With
such thoughts and worries it is hard to find some self composure, and thus Paul
did not fall asleep before two forty five am. He managed to have a last worried
look at his wrist watch, a few seconds before his anxious brain gave in to the
demands of his exhausted body. He woke
up at about eleven am the next morning, he was not under any kind of pressure "
there was nothing he could do except have breakfast, lunch, dinner and keep on
waiting in vain; knowing there is not the slightest chance that any would be
agent, spy or dissident would try to contact him. At about
eleven thirty he was downstairs in the lobby on his way out. As he came out he
realized that some drastic change has taken place, his pursuers changed tactics
" it was open surveillance from now on, and there is just one meaning to it:
“get the hell out, leave our country, or…” ‘Bless
them all foes, and friends back home alike…’ Paul mumbled with impatience,
meaning the opposite. I can’t leave without a confirmation to do it. Well
it’s a nasty upgrade, but I shall have to live on with it… He thought a bit
perturbed though. At the
first pedestrian crossing he stopped, ignoring the one that walked about
a yard before him and the second one that was just one step behind. People
might think they’re my bodyguards. He
thought amused while crossing the road. The poor
devils must be mad at me, having waited since the early morning hours… Paul
thought while having a late breakfast in the nearest restaurant. He sat over
his black coffee with a drop of rum for quite a while, there was no need to
rush or to leave and face his ‘bodyguards’ too soon. After having paid his bill
he went to restroom and shut himself in one the cabinets. As he let the water
gush out and opened up the door, two big men pushed their way inside his
cabinet's open door rather rudely, as if he did not exist. He had to squeeze
himself out between their sturdy muscular bodies. They’re not after remnants
of documents that I've supposedly tried to get rid off; it’s simply part of the
harsh treatment that I’ll have to live with from now on… He concluded
gloomily as he went out. On the
pavement before the restaurant he met Tania again. She did not smile this time.
‘You’d
better leave!’ She said watching him with a stern gaze. ‘That’s an advice from
someone that likes you.’ She added and
off she went. © Haim Kadman January 2015 " all rights
reserved. © 2015 Haim Kadman |
StatsAuthorHaim KadmanPetach-Tikva, IsraelAboutProfile: A few words about myself: being a native of a small country whose waist is seventeen kilometers wide in a certain area; and in seven to eight hours drive one can cross its length, I was amaze.. more..Writing
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