An Ordinary Day (36 page)

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Authors: Trevor Corbett

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The tear gas had dispersed enough for Durant to enter the container without a gas mask and he shone a small torch around the spacious interior. The beam lit up boxes on wooden pallets and about six canvas bags stacked towards the back. One of the bags was open and rolls of wine labels lay strewn on the floor. Durant kicked one of the other bags, knelt down and slipped his penknife into the canvas, cutting open a foot-long gash. He put his hand in and pulled out more labels. He put the torch down and quickly reached into his pocket for his ringing cellphone. Heath told him the pilot boat was leaving and if he didn’t leave with it, he’d be arrested for leaving the country illegally. Durant laughed and asked for five minutes’ indulgence.

He slipped his knife into the second and third bags and pulled out more labels. The fourth bag seemed heavier than the others and when he put his hand in, he felt plastic sheeting and he opened up the hole by another thirty centimetres. He pushed his knife into the plastic sheeting in the bag and shone his torch into the hole. Durant fell backwards and his torch hit the metal floor. He put his hand in his pocket and fumbled for his cellphone. ‘Chief, it’s me. I’ve found Ali.’

Durant gently stroked Stephanie’s hand as they sat on a bench under the shade of a plane tree at their favourite picnic spot. Alexis’s little face stared curiously out of the carry cot beside them, then her big brown eyes started slipping beneath tired lids.

‘Getting any better?’ Stephanie asked as Durant coughed violently.

‘Uh-uh. You know how bad I get when a cat comes near me. Try tossing a few tear gas canisters at me.’

‘Shame. My poor baby.’

‘I’ll get over it. Hey, we haven’t been here for a while.’ There was a comforting silence which enveloped the place like a dense mist.

‘I’ve really missed it. Life sort of got ahead of us and I think we forgot what’s important.’

Durant gazed into the distance and sighed. ‘I wish I could lie and say that’s true, but there’re still things that matter. There’s a lunatic out there killing people and I can’t stop him.’ Durant looked at Stephanie and kissed her hand. ‘But that doesn’t matter to us right now. I’m just enjoying this moment.’

Stephanie rubbed Durant’s forearm. ‘Forget about work when you’re not working. Enjoy this for what it is. Look at our little family, look at where we are, there’re no issues here, those issues are out there, separate, away from us.’

‘And at some stage soon, I’ll have to confront them again, but not today. This is our day. A while ago, I never thought you’d get better, I thought this nightmare would be a part of our lives forever. But you seem fine now; we’ve got a lovely, normal girl and we’re starting to piece our lives together again.’

‘Sorry about all of this, sweetheart. I wish I could have been a normal wife and mother.’

‘You are a normal wife and mother. The situation’s maybe abnormal, but not us. People out there will never understand the kind of pressures we put on our wives and husbands. I think we have still done okay.’

‘How’s Thandi doing?’

‘Not good. The police are still not sure whether it was suicide or murder, but I don’t know if it matters to her. I’m pretty sure he was murdered. Everything points to it. He never would have killed himself.’

‘How can you know that? I was suicidal at one stage. Sometimes events and emotions can just totally overwhelm you and you stop thinking rationally.’

‘Well, we’ve got the police investigating it now. They’ll figure it out eventually. I’m almost too scared to know the truth. I’m not sure if it would be more comforting for Thandi to know that Mike was murdered than believing he killed himself. It’s a terrible situation. But at least her financial problems are over. His policies and benefits will pay out. Still, it’s cold comfort.’

Durant turned around as he heard a shuffling of leaves behind him and saw Amina walking hesitantly towards them, her head bowed in embarrassment and her hands clutched together nervously.

‘I’m so sorry to disturb you. I tried your phone, but it’s off and I remembered you told me about this place where you come to relax. If it wasn’t important, I wouldn’t be here.’

Durant felt Stephanie grip his arm.

Amina hugged herself uncomfortably and thought this was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. She silently cursed Masondo for sending her.

‘Something’s happened at the office, and Masondo wants you there now.’

Durant looked down at Stephanie’s hand on his arm and bit his bottom lip. He couldn’t look into her eyes.

‘Look, I know this is important, Steph. This must be life-and-death or Amina wouldn’t have done this.’

Stephanie let go of his arm. ‘It’s okay.’ Her voice carried a mixture of sadness and anger.

‘I’ll drop you off quickly, we can catch up later.’

‘It’s our time, but you can go if you want.’

‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart; I wish I didn’t have to go. Can it wait, Amina?’

Amina shook her head solemnly and avoided Stephanie’s gaze. ‘If it could’ve waited, I wouldn’t be here. I think it’s the end.’

Salem finished his coffee and reached into his wallet to pay the bill. The departure of his flight to Johannesburg had just been announced and he was confident everything was going according to plan. He removed the oversized horn-rimmed glasses and laid them briefly on the table. He couldn’t see much with them on, but he knew they were a distinguishing feature, along with the pencil moustache, which the border police would focus on when comparing a face to a passport picture.

Salem picked up his passport and air tickets, which lay on top of his briefcase. He quickly opened the passport and smiled when he stared at the face of the man he’d become, Anatoly Kovashov. Salem flipped through the El-Al air tickets. Once he was in Johannesburg and had boarded the Israeli plane, he’d be safe.

In an uncomfortable moment, he thought that the old man, dressed in a drab grey suit and wearing a baseball cap, had accidentally sat at the wrong table. Before Salem could say a word, the old man took his cap off, and laid it on the table in front of him. Salem hesitated, not knowing whether to stand up and walk away, or to humour the old man. He looked around nervously.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Dahdi’s voice was commanding, but not threatening.

Salem shook his head imperceptibly. ‘I think you’re mistaken.’

‘Not at all. This is the right table.’

‘Please excuse me, then.’ Salem stood up.

‘Sit down, Mr Salem.’

Salem sat down. His eyes widened, and his voice, when he spoke, wavered slightly. ‘My name is Anatoly Kovashov. I think you are mistaken, sir.’

‘Not at all, Mr Salem. I know who you are. The question is, what are we going to do about it?’

Salem shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Who are you, sir? Do I know you?’

‘I’m a lot like you, son. I’m also a man of his convictions.’ Dahdi extended his hand and Salem hesitated for a moment, then slowly reached forward and shook it.

‘Emile Dahdi at your service.’

‘What do you want from me, Mr Dahdi?’ Salem’s body leaned awkwardly to one side, as if he was ready to leap out of the chair and run.

Dahdi smiled and he focused his gaze on something on the distant horizon. He carefully flipped open his wallet and put a small blackand-white photograph on the table. ‘You must recognise her?’

Salem’s eyes widened. ‘The painting in the apartment. And you, you’re in some of those pictures.’

‘I was sitting in a restaurant like this at Heathrow once.’ Dahdi’s eyes welled up with tears and he made no attempt to hide it. ‘I waited a long time. Then a lady and a man from Pan Am walked up to me, and I could see in their faces before they said a word that Rachel was gone. I remember looking at all the people going by, carrying on with their ordinary lives, while mine had just fallen apart. I remember them saying the plane had been blown up over a place in Scotland called Lockerbie that I had never even heard of. Something in me died that day. We had been married for thirty years and had never spent more than a day apart from one another.’

Salem seemed to relax slightly. He glanced at his watch and then at the old man.

‘What’s this got to do with me, Mr Dahdi?’

‘Two Libyan intelligence officers blew the plane up over Lockerbie. My wife was on Pan Am 103.’

Salem nodded and smiled without speaking.

‘She became part of history. I was left a lonely old man, bitter and thinking every day about how I could avenge her death. How I could ever get closure on this dark time in my life. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Every fibre of my being cried out for revenge. But how?’

‘How indeed, Mr Dahdi?’

‘But now I know how.’

Salem leaned back in his chair. ‘I’m starting to understand now.’

Dahdi nodded. ‘I am a Jew, just like you, Mr Salem. I believe my wife and all those other people died because of the hatred people feel towards our people. So many have tried to crush us, so many have tried to decimate us. Gaddafi longs to see the day the Jewish people are swept off the face of the earth. We know he has missiles pointed at Israel today. From the moment I understood what your mission was, I knew I had to protect you.’

‘You understand? You understand why I did this?’

‘You did what any Jewish person would have done. You acted in self-defence. You’re protecting Israel’s children from extermination. No more bombs and no more gas or biological agents. This must stop.’

‘And there are few willing to stop it, Mr Dahdi. God alone knows what horrific biological materials Libya would have cultivated in that fermenter. I have nothing left to live for, other than my country. My child died because she was Jewish and for no other reason. She was a child. She hated nobody. I hated nobody. Hatred and violence has a way of replicating itself.’

‘You are a hero to me, Mr Salem. You have saved our children from another holocaust.’

‘I am a soldier, Mr Dahdi. I’m just fighting this war in a different arena. The theatre of war against Israel extends past her borders to the four corners of the world. I carry different weapons, use different strategies, but I am as important to Israel’s survival as the watchmen on the walls of Jerusalem. We defend the land; we protect our people.’

‘All Jews are soldiers, Ben. We can never let our guard down. It’s God’s will that Israel lives. Am Yisrael chai. If Israel is destroyed, there is no God.’

‘Shema Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad. The Lord our God is one. Mr Dahdi, you know the girl, Leila Elhasomi, a beautiful woman, gentle, kind, loving. She’s also been Libya’s chief external
WMD
procurement officer for years.’

‘I know, Ben. She’s my enemy too.’

‘It was hard spending time with her, hating her while pretending I loved her, having her kiss me, hold me, say she loved me, meanwhile knowing her business was killing Jews. When I killed her, I thought only of this: hundreds of thousands of our children slowly choking to death from this poison.’

‘You have done our people a brave deed, Ben. And you have avenged my Rachel. She watched you do it.’

‘And Ali: he was the worst type of living specimen. He would sell his soul for a hundred dollars. His motivation was somewhat less noble. Not for Allah or for the sake of Palestine. He was driven by his own greed. And his greed killed him. These people deserved to die, Mr Dahdi. Your wife didn’t. Aliyah, my daughter, my sweet innocent girl, didn’t. I’ve taken two or three lives, but I’ve saved hundreds of thousands of others. Do you understand why I have done this? Can you, as a Jew, understand why this is necessary?’

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