The undergournd

Another day of instruction and an advice at its end.

On descending the underground's entrance stairs, Karim looked much more composed.

The cloud that has hidden the sun seems to have vanished. Samir thought relieved, exchanging a few witty jokes with his admired associate.

‘The passage from the street to the underground's tunnels, should be abrupt and rapid �" but it should be done in the most natural manner. It’s very hard to explain, or should I say: it’s very easy to put it in words. In short, it should be done as if you have realized you're late, and at that very moment you have made up your mind to take the underground. Or let's say, you've been watching an article of interest on your way in some shop window and have forgotten yourself altogether, and all of a sudden you realize, and so on…’

‘One has to be a bit of an actor.’ Samir remarked a bit amused

‘Of course, but don't we act through all our lives as if we were acting on a stage, pretending, boasting, particularly when there're women around! All right now back to our business, the pace one chooses should fit the circumstances of course, and should be increased �" on reaching the tunnels, or after mingling in the crowd. One can enter for instance, a one way tunnel against the oncoming stream of passengers, cross it if he wants to check and see who is coming after him; or come right back with the same human stream, if he wants to lose his pursuers.’

‘Oh I see, as if he had just got off a train!’ Samir  interrupted him surprised by the idea. ‘But it takes some pushing and shoving, and if one is blocked by some angry passengers? He asked rather unconvinced by that certain trick.

‘You'll be very surprised how fast people make way, when they face a determined individual who moves forward resolutely; that's if he crosses the tunnel against the oncoming crowd, but if he's trying to lose his pursuers, he might as I said turn on his heels and become part of the thick stream that surrounds him.’ Noticing Samir's quizzical look he hastened to add: ‘If one gets down to the underground, he should in my opinion lose his pursuers even if he didn't detect them yet...  What I mean is this:  one has to carry out a series of acts, in order to lose any possible pursuers; he has to repeat it at least one more time �" and then check if he is being followed, and that should be done, before leaving the underground.

‘Sounds complicated,’ Samir remarked briskly.

‘You'll get used to it pretty soon, it’s going to be a habit of yours �" as comfortable as smoking a cigarette. We'll work it over step by step at a slow pace, there's no need to hurry. I'll get us some help when we'll need it, a bit later to act as real pursuers �" you’ll have to detect them and get rid of them of course. We'll make a real pro out of you soon enough!’ He laughed cheerfully, slapping Samir on his back.

‘Are there some more specific topics I'll have to learn?’

’There're some more of course, but at that stage, we'll stick to the basic rules of survival �" which is detecting surveillance and shaking it off. There're other means and measures to enhance your safety, which are in our hands. Let’s clear the matter up once and for all, your own safety is our responsibility!’

As far as Samir was concerned, the matter was more obscure than clear; was he asked to abandon his own safety, is that what Karim meant? Declarations and promises are nothing but words �" and words can't endow one with safety; didn't that pompous a*s in Cairo use the same phrases, more or less? Well, time, time alone would tell! He summed it up somewhat skeptically.

But Karim resumed his lecture, interrupting his thoughts. ‘One must remember that it’s a friendly country, and according to its rules, one isn't supposed to carry a gun, nor of course, any other kind of weapon that’s strictly official �" if that's what bothers you?’                     

They don't trust me yet, that's the simple answer! Samir thought a bit disappointed. ‘So I'm not trustworthy, am I?’ He retorted with a bitter note, insulted �" standing on the platform beside Karim, watching the oncoming train slowing down to a standstill before their watching eyes. 

‘I didn't say such a thing we do trust you, please calm down �" but there're several more aspects to the basic rules; a newcomer can't be treated as a veteran! You're on trial yet, brother o' mine. What do we know about you �" and those who are the authors of your letter of introduction, our compatriots in Amsterdam, what do they know about you?  So you have to understand our standpoint, which serves every such case concretely with impartiality.’

‘Yes, I see,’ Samir muttered as they boarded the train. I wonder if they do trust each other? He thought gloomily. I hope to Allah it’s not a pit of snakes, that group  I'm about to join…

There were plenty of unoccupied seats at that hour of day, and they sat together next to the compartment's wide doors.  Karim it seemed had nothing more to add, his hunger was manifested in a state of slight nervousness, which influenced his protégé’s feelings. Thus they rode in silence, changed trains twice and at Paddington station got off �" and surfaced, leaving the dusty tunnels behind them.. Whatever they did on that certain ride, was done at their own leisure, just like any other passenger �" they didn't seem to have enacted any of the survival procedures.

Well, it's none of my business, not yet anyhow. He's the expert and he must have his reasons. Samir thought and kept his mouth shut.

There were several oriental restaurants on both sides of the street, close to the underground's entrance �" Indian and Pakistani most of them. Karim led the way to one of these, a Pakistani small and dreary restaurant �" which had in fact the size of an average restaurant back home, and seemed rather similar in its odors in particular, to the joints he had usually visited. Except for an excessive amount of furniture blocking anyone's way in or out, the place was virtually empty and bad lighted.

An ideal hideout for crooks and swindlers… Samir thought with contempt, trailing behind his associate as they made their way inside �" to their choice table.

An elderly bespectacled gentleman, with a black headgear, which reminded Samir of a Moroccan red Fez, sat at one far end table; so they chose the other one with a good view on the street outside.                                  

‘In such places I usually dine when I'm off duty.’ Karim remarked with a sly smile, as they sat down. ‘Nobody would take me for a European, I can't change the typical features I was born with, can I? Such places are my indirect part-cover; I may pass as a Pakistani, or even as an Indian. I know how frail such covers usually are, but there're instances when such tricks hold �" rumors may turn into hard evidence. It’s been proved many a time, and on many occasions.’

They had a greasy soup and ‘biriani’ (rice mixed with meat), mineral water and black coffee. A poor and meagre meal, compared with a seven-course European one. But who cared for European food with its mild taste, while having such adequately seasoned, and satisfying main dish. He could understand Karim's attraction to those joints very well now, after consuming a belly full of rice and tiny chunks of grilled meat �" that tasted just like the best ‘shishlik’ he had ever eaten anywhere back home.

‘Any complaints, it's not the most impressive restaurant in town.' Karim remarked ironically, guessing already Samir's feelings about it.

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a meal so much.’   

‘Well there are some other excellent restaurants such as this one in this district alone, and by the way there's a rear exit to this place that one can use in emergency �" getting there under the pretext of a certain natural need one has to satisfy. Although I can't perceive of such possible circumstances here in London, you should try it just for the sake of training.’

‘All right, I'll pay it a visit before we leave.’ Samir smiled back to him. ‘May I ask you a question?’

‘Yes, go ahead!’ Karim answered, somewhat surprised.

‘We didn't order any hard drinks, was this on purpose?

‘That's right, we never drink in such joints. I frequent these joints at about a rate of once a month, I order, eat and leave a generous tip; but they don't know who I am, what they do know is that I'm a Muslim �" a Muslim devotee just like them. Do you see that old man or the waiter, or any of the personnel who’re out of sight; but gossips and discusses you as soon as you leave �" or even while you're still on their premises. They won't give you up, as long as they know that you're one of them �" a devotee Muslim. Even if they do drink themselves they won't serve you, and if you'll just mention a hard drink in their presence �" they'll treat you as a stranger. If some rival snoops around after a time and asks them questions, they might give you up for having offended them.’

Taking advantage of his senior’s good spirits, Samir ventured a more personal question. ‘May I ask how did you acquire your knowledge, and that high level of expertise?’

‘In Moscow, and you might be sent there yourself if you wish to…’ Karim answered calmly. It seemed as if he did expect such a question, and welcomed it. ‘You may combine it with academic studies, get a scholarship, attend morning lectures and train in the afternoons. It’s not an easy task I dare say, anyway think it over!’ He added covering his mouth with his right palm and yawning, while turning his attention to the street outside. As if Samir's reaction didn't seem to interest him at all. ‘The one and only obstacle is the language of course,’ He turned back to Samir and went right on: ‘But they do have courses in English, a few of them I'm afraid. Nevertheless a young and competent man as you are, could handle their language in about three months time! Anyway that’s your best option. The chances your getting a better one, are very slim,  very slim indeed...!’ He added with emphasize.

‘Do you speak Russian?’ Samir asked him after a short pause.

‘Yes, I do!’ Karim answered him in Russian and repeated it in Arabic.

It was the best piece of advice he could have been given, though the idea itself was so far from his own thoughts. To study in Moscow and learn the Russian language, seemed incredible indeed �" but in any case, I'll be out of Abu-naeef's reach, and that's what Karim was trying so hard to hint at. ‘Would I be able to apply this very year?’

‘That's right!’

‘Fine, I'll be glad to! I'll go for it!!!’  Samir exclaimed decisively, shaking Karim's hand with enthusiasm.

© Haim Kadman 1991 �" all rights reserved.