While Avidar was making his journey, the artist would make contact with an operative who was working with the Kurds, a minority fighting for their independence from the oppressive Iraqi regime. Through the Kurds, he would receive small, lightweight, 22-caliber Walther automatic pistols for each member of the team. The Walthers had been highly modified and used special, low-powered, German ammunition. When fired, the weapon made a soft phut sound and they did not need to use bulky silencers. It was a short-range assassination weapon. This was perhaps the most dangerous part of the operation and if he was caught with the weapons, it meant certain torture, execution, and compromise of the operation. Because of that, the weapons problem had to be resolved before anyone else entered Iraq.
Habish and two other agents would enter Iraq separately about the same time as Shoshana. She would have to travel without a backup and be on her own for a time. Once inside Iraq, the team would have to go to work with a vengeance, relearning the local customs, checking current police methods, and how the procedures at harbors and airports had changed since the last team was in Iraq. Then they would have to rent or buy at least three safe houses. Each agent would try to rent or buy a car, a difficult task in Iraq. While all this was going on, they would establish a communication system, make escape arrangements, develop hiding places, and pass out equipment. Avidar and the artist would work twenty hours a day, churning out the fake documents so an agent never had to use the same identity for doing two separate tasks. Habish would use the same driver’s license for renting a car and while traveling. But he would never carry that driver’s license when he was strolling from café to café, keeping in contact with his agents.
At a certain point, Habish would establish contact with Shoshana through the language school where he had told her to take lessons in Arabic. He would then move her into the operation, telling only what she needed to know, never revealing the entire operation or the identity of another agent to her. As the daddy rabbit for the operation, Habish was critical to the security of the entire team and he had promised himself long ago that he would commit suicide before being captured. Then Avidar would have to pick up the pieces and try to get everyone safely out of Iraq.
Habish knew what was ahead of him when he drove Avidar to the airport at Málaga. It was going to be up to him and one other agent to maintain a watch over Shoshana and he didn’t look forward to the next few days. For now, he needed to get as much rest as possible until Shoshana wangled an invitation from Is’al Mana to visit Baghdad.
There was little doubt that Mana was totally infatuated with Shoshana. He followed her around like a puppy and sent her gifts every day. She encouraged the attention but refused to accept a single present and kept telling him that their relationship had nothing to do with material things. After a while, he believed her. Then Habish noticed that Mana’s bodyguards no longer followed them around and used the time Shoshana and Mana were together to take a break.
Mana repeatedly tried to talk about his work to impress her with his talents and abilities. Again and again, Shoshana would put him off, claiming she didn’t want to discuss business while on vacation and only wanted to spend more time with him. If he became too insistent in talking about chemical equipment, she would stroke and pet him, totally distracting him until a premature ejaculation sent him back to his villa for a change of clothes. Mana was in love.
Habish reprimanded her once for not letting Mana talk about his work. She froze him with her icy stare. “I believe the proper technique is to keep him ‘humming’ at E above high C.” She liked Mana much better than Habish.
Finally, the negotiations between the Iraqis and WisserChemFabrik were finished and Iraq had the last of the equipment it needed to complete its nerve gas plant. Habish had met her in the main square while she drank coffee and said that Mana would be returning to Iraq within the next day or two. She paid her bill and got ready to leave. “I know. He told me. We’re having dinner tonight at his villa.”
“Then he must ask you to go with him tonight.”
“He will,” Shoshana promised.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’ve been doing my ‘homework’ and reading about Is’al’s problem.” She picked up her bag and left.
From the moment Mana picked up Shoshana at the hotel, he could not take his eyes off her, which was exactly what she wanted. The top three buttons of her white silk shirt were undone and her black, straight-legged trousers snared her small waist and hugged her ample hips and well-shaped rear.
They ate dinner on the balcony of his villa that overlooked the Mediterranean. When Shoshana judged the time was right, she suggested they go inside. Mana obediently followed. Inside, she stood in front of a mirror and checked her hair. “Is’al,” she called, “this is a funny mirror. What’s wrong with it?”
A bright crimson blush spread across the Iraqi’s face as he told her there was a VCR camera hidden behind it. His honesty was painful.
“Do you take pictures of us?” she asked. He nodded. “Do you like watching them?” Again, he nodded. “Then I don’t mind if it will remind you of me.” She studied the mirror, not able to see anything behind it. “Is’al, ask one of the servants to bring in a bowl of ice cubes. Then dismiss them.” He did as she asked and after the maid had left, she playfully kicked off her shoes and walked toward him. Her hips and shoulders swayed provocatively and Mana watched her breasts move under the silk blouse. He sucked in his breath when she undid the buttons down to her waist. She stopped in the middle of the room and beckoned for him. “Bring the ice,” she commanded.
They met in the middle of the room and she took the bowl from him and set it on the floor. She turned so her back was to the mirror. Then she rapidly stripped his clothes off. Mana stood there perplexed, growing soft, losing his erection. Quickly, she undid her belt and shed her trousers and blouse. She was wearing nothing underneath. Mana was erect again, growing excited. She knelt in front of him and took him in both hands, feeling him pulse. It was almost over. Then she scooped up a handful of ice and clapped it over his penis. He gasped for air and visibly cooled.
Shoshana looked at him and smiled. “I think we’ve solved our problem.” She picked up the bowl of ice and led him into his bedroom.
So this is what a whore feels like, Shoshana thought, loathing herself. She kicked her legs out of bed and looked across to Mana. He was sleeping peacefully, a childlike look on his smooth face. She didn’t hate him — she couldn’t bring herself to that. And he had been so grateful the night before. Then they had made love again, at least it was love for Mana. For her, she decided, it was more like two dogs mating in a plush garden. The second time, Shoshana only had to use the ice once. The third time, it had been normal. It was Mana’s first successful sexual experience.
Shoshana walked across the huge room and drew the curtains back from across the picture window that overlooked the Mediterranean. The morning sun streamed in, flowing over her. It was the same sun that had waked Israel first, over two thousand miles to the east. She stood there, staring out to sea, toward her home.
“Rose,” Mana called from the bed.
The use of her alias brought her back to reality and a bitter taste filled her mouth. She was using her body to get what she wanted and that made her a whore. She walked back to bed and crawled in next to him.