Chapter 2: Making a New Friend

My eyes opened a second before the phone rang. I got up in my king-sized bed, throwing the silk sheets off, and grabbed the phone.

“Yes?”

“This is your courtesy wake-up call, Mr. Nagel.”, the serious voice announced.

“Okay, thanks.”, I replied.

I looked at the clock on my right, it read 5:00 AM. I got up from my bed and made my way to the window, throwing the curtains open. I had a beautiful view of Lake Michigan. This hotel room had been pretty expensive, considering my late arrival and the view. But money wasn't an issue. Not like I was paying for it.

The sky was a light blue in the distance, signaling the arrival of morning.

I decided that instead of doing my standard, a simple regimen of a 100 pushups, a 100, sit-ups, and a 100 burpees, I would do some aerobic exercise for a change.

I wasn’t as fit as I was without putting effort in.

I went to the bathroom and turned the shower on as the steam began to fill the bathroom. I looked at the bruise from last night; it was almost gone.

Good thing I healed fast.

After taking a quick shower and washing up, I grabbed my swimming trunks and left the hotel room. I made my way down to the pool, which was empty, quickly jumped in, and began doing laps. This was the most effective, and my favorite, form of aerobic exercise. I just didn’t always have constant access to it.

As I was swimming I began rethinking the events of last night. I still had the hard drive upstairs in my room, hidden. I must admit, I was unusually curious about what was on that hard drive. Indulged in my thoughts, I allowed myself to sink to the bottom of the pool, where I now sat with my arms and legs extended outward. I shut my eyes to concentrate.

Maybe I should just check the hard drive for myself and see.

No doubt it was encrypted, but I knew my way around computer programming. Maybe I could reprogram the virus on my USB to only infiltrate, not destroy.

Sure, I would do that this afternoon.

But should I?

This was dangerous territory. Home had not instructed me regarding the hard drive. True, they didn’t know about it. Was withholding information the same as lying?

Then there was the issue of our conversation. If I wasn’t mistaken, I thought I was threatened. Surely I was a valuable asset?

Wasn’t I?

I was shaken out of my thoughts when someone grabbed me under my arms. I didn’t hesitate for even a second. I immediately grabbed my attacker and was about to put them in a chokehold underwater, which would surely kill them, when I realized the person wasn’t attacking me.

I immediately let go of the woman and allowed myself to resurface. The woman came up a second later, violently coughing.

As I went in to help her, she slapped my hand away.

It took her a few seconds to recompose herself, promptly after which she engaged in me in an angry conversation.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”, she asked, exacerbated. She was an older woman, old enough to be my grandma. People this old, especially women, don’t use that kind of language very often.

She was surely shocked.

“I thought you were attacking me,'' I replied considerately. I felt a little sorry for this woman. Yes, I showed emotion. Just not for my targets.

Usually.

“Why would anyone attack you?”, she asked, surprised. If she only knew the world I lived in.

“Do you know how long you were down there?”, she asked now, ignoring her earlier question.

“No”, I replied simply.

“You were down there for four minutes before I pulled, or disturbed, you.”, she said surprised.

I have to be honest, four minutes was nothing. I have done much longer.

“You’re probably mistaken ma’am. Anyways, I was just thinking,” I said as I climbed out of the water. My body felt heavier for a second before it readjusted. My trunks still stuck to my body though. Any sensible person knows that a dead, or even unconscious, the body would simply just flow back to the top.

She came out after me.

“I’m sure there are safer places for you to think, son,” she said, her tone now softening and she seemed to have cooled down.

“I’m sorry for startling you. Please, feel free to go back, I’ll leave,” I said as I grabbed a towel and rubbed my hair.

“No, I think I’ve had enough water for today… I like your hair, how long did it take you to grow it out?” she asked, commenting on my shoulder-length hair.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really cut it in a long time. Anyways, I do have to go.”, I said as I wrapped the towel around me and left, leaving her standing next to the pool.

Poor woman. She came so close to death today.

I had gone upstairs and dressed before coming back down for breakfast at 6:30. Dressed in joggers and a polo, I was quietly eating my breakfast, waffles, and an omelet, in the overcrowded breakfast room when I spotted a familiar face in the distance.

The face looked at me, smiled, and made her way towards me.

I didn’t pay $700 for this.

“Hey there, there’s no other space to sit. Do you mind if me and my husband sit here with you?”, she asked sweetly. I looked around, and as she said, there really was no other place to sit.

“Yeah, of course,” I replied hesitantly as I took another bite of my waffles. I eyed the husband out of the corner of my eye. I knew the lady wasn’t a threat, but I didn’t know him. However, by taking a simple glance, I knew he wasn’t anything I needed to be worried about. His wife was more fit than him. All signs indicated that he would die before her.

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What? Was I too dark?

No, I was just right.

They both set their plates down and sat so that we formed a triangle.

Yay, another reminder.

“So you’re the guy who almost killed my wife?”, he said as he stared at me with ice in his voice.

I didn’t tense.

Though I will give him credit for trying his best, and he did seem pretty convincing, I could tell he was obviously joking. He showed none of the physical indications of true anger. Everyone expressed anger differently, but the intricacies of their physical manifestations were similar, regardless of the individual.

The Wife jabbed him in the gut before saying, “Oh, he’s just teasing you.”

She was right. He smiled at me before saying, “I’m just pulling your leg kid. So what’s your name, pal?”

“Adam”, I replied.

I took a sip from my orange juice; freshly squeezed.

“I’m David and this is Elouise. We’re from Boston.”, he said. Of course, I already knew that. Their accent wasn’t exactly a secret.

“Good city, crazy driving,” I told him as I smiled at him. It helped me seem more natural. Obviously, I did not tell them that the high-speed car chase a few months ago which left nine officers injured was me. Don’t take me wrong. I respect our law enforcement, but I don’t always have time to chat with them.

“Oh yeah. You’re right about that. Tell me, you watch any football?”, he asked me. I smiled again. It wasn’t a fake smile, this time it was genuine.

“Yeah, I do. I’m a Bears fan,” I replied.

He drew back with a wide grin before saying, “Well that’s a mistake. I think deep down everyone knows that the Packers are the best.”

“I would have agreed with you, but not after last season,'' I replied. He laughed it off.

I got him there.

“Oh stop with the football nonsense, David. Tell me, Adam, are you here with your parents?”, Elouise asked me.

It was time for me to spin the wheel of excuses. Which one would I use now?

“Yeah, I’m here with my mom. She has a business meeting in the city,” I replied.

“Oh, so she’s a businesswoman?”, Elouise asked.

“Yeah, for some small startup.”, I said on the go.

“That’s very nice. Where are you from,” Elouise inquired.

What would I tell her? I never really stayed in one play for long. The longest I suspect I stayed would be around 20 days. But that was an exceptionally difficult mission. It was in the middle of a desert of Arizona, miles from any road or settlement. Why would a guy living in so much seclusion need to be executed, I have no idea. But by the time I could actually pull the trigger, I was ecstatic to be able to leave.

“Dallas,” I replied, using one of the cities I had been in on mission recently.

At that moment my phone rang. I pulled it out and looked at the caller. There was really only ever one caller. It read ‘Home’.

“Speaking of mom, it’s her,” I told them, motioning to the phone before getting up from my seat and picking up the call.

“Hello,” I greeted, as I walked over to the window. I looked out into the street below me.

All these people, walking to their little tasks, so oblivious to the world.

“Hey, Adam.”, the same British accent from last night spoke. Her tone wasn’t anything unique, just business. “How did you rest? Well, I hope,” she added, not offering me the chance to respond. It wasn’t like she really cared.

I got straight to business.

“You have an assignment for me?”, I asked.

“Seems like you don’t like to have breaks. Trust me, enjoy them while you can. They come few, and far in between,” she said.

“I’ll try and keep that in mind.”, I said simply.

“Good. To answer your earlier question, I do in a way have an assignment for you. You are to come home. I’ve booked a ticket for you at eleven, your time, for home. Get to O’hare on time. Leave your car, you’ll be back soon,” she said almost excitedly.

“‘Home’, home?”, I asked, a little surprised.

“Yes, it's time for you to come back to Jerusalem. Albeit for a little time,” she said, again very excitedly.

“It’s time for us to meet again.”, she added.

I was silent. So many things were going through my mind.

I would get to go home?

I would get to meet her again? After so many years?

Why?

Why now?

I knew better than to ask these questions. I was simply to comply.

“I look forward to it,” I said, almost eagerly.

“Good. The ticket is on your Israeli passport. See you tomorrow, Adam,” she said as she cut the call.

See you.

I put the phone back in my pocket and looked out of the window again at the people below.

Ants

I made my way back to the table and finished my orange juice standing.

“That was my mom. We’re leaving, it was good to meet you both.”, I said.

“That was fast, Adam. But it was nice meeting you too,” they replied.

I left them both and returned to my hotel room. I went to the phone and dialed zero.

“Front desk. How can I help you, Mr. Nagel?”

“Bring my car around,” I replied.

“Right away sir.”

I guess I wouldn’t be cracking that hard drive open today.

I packed my stuff, including the hard drive, and within a few minutes, I made my way downstairs. My car was waiting outside. I went to it and was about to open the trunk to put my stuff in when a valet came running towards me.

“What do you think you’re doing?”, he asked me frantically.

“Exactly what it looks like,” I replied. His ingenuity was unfascinating. This was not surprising. Most people, when they see my car, think I either stole it or that it’s someone else’s because of my younger appearance. When he heard Mr. Nagel, he probably expected a Mr. Nagel, not a teenager.

“Give me my damn keys before I get you fired,” I replied, annoyance apparent in my voice. He hesitated for a second before giving it in my hand and walking away. I put my baggage in the trunk and got inside, making my way towards the airport.

I arrived to the airport at around 9:30 and parked my car in long term parking. I didn’t worry about my car being damaged or scratched by the time I came back. Someone would need a chainsaw to make a deep scratch on it.

I took my suitcase and bag out from the trunk and opened the latch to the hidden compartment. I put my thumb against an invisible scanner, and after a second the hatch opened. Inside was an assassin’s paradise. There were weapons like throwing knives, pistols, assault rifles, piano wires, and more vials of purple liquid amongst other things such as thousands of US dollars, gold coins, and a variety of different forms of identification.

I took out my license and any other ID from my wallet and exchanged it for Israeli identification. This would be the first time I would be using it. I grabbed the Israeli passport and quickly checked inside. Satisfied, I put the passport in my pocket and closed the secret hatch. After making sure that everything was in its proper place I closed the trunk.

Even the CIA doesn’t forge so many IDs and passports for their agents to keep on standby. But why forge when you have people working for every government in the world, as in our case. As of this very moment I could walk into about forty different countries with their legitimate passport, and into nearly any other country with an easy visa. But I have never used all of them. Far from it. Usually, a US or German passport is more than enough.

I rarely employ such amenities as I mainly operate in North America.

I made my way inside where after a brief waiting in the line I received my ticket, went through security, and made my way to the lounge. I had a first class ticket, so I had access to shorter waiting lines and the VIP lounge. I sat down at one of the chairs on an empty row of seats and pulled out the hard drive into my hand. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to take it with me.

Always listen to your gut.

I left my bag behind and headed to the storage lockers, a few minutes walk away, and was about to deposit the hard drive into one.

Strange.

I felt like I was being watched. But here? I turned around and looked at all the people around me. There were people walking, some talking, some eating. Men, women, and children all going about their work. I could hear kids shouting, announcements over the PA, and luggage rolling over the tiled floor.

Even stranger.

I couldn’t see anything.

Correction, I saw everything, just not what I was looking for. I looked around once more before putting a hard drive in the locker and walking away.

I returned to my original spot in time to hear the boarding call for my plane.

“This is the final boarding call for Royal Jordanian flight 263 to Jerusalem.”

I grabbed my bag and made my way over to the boarding area. I gave the attendant my ticket, to which she offered me a cute smile, and walked up to the plane.

There, I put my bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in my chair in the front of the plane. After a few minutes, a flight attendant made the overhead response, and I closed my eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 372A with service from Chicago to Jerusalem. We are currently fourth in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately eight minutes' time. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. We also ask that your seats and table trays are in the upright position for take-off. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. Thank you for choosing Royal Jordanian. Enjoy your flight.”