Heaven's Rending Ch. 03

"So Jonas," said the woman he might once have called Maria, "how did you sleep?"

"Perhaps as Julius Caesar did that last night. Guess it depends on who wields the knife."

"Yes, point taken," said the old man in a thick East-European accent. "I can imagine you must have felt yourself almost home. Of course Joannides is already in Ireland. That, I'm afraid, Mr Carpenter, was the fatal weakness in your plan. That, and of course you really should have secured multiple passports. A for effort though. Can't fault you there." Then man smiled ruefully. "By the by, my name is David Ben-Gurion, and this is my foreign minister, Golda Meir."

Of course Carpenter saw it at once, but the shock was immense none-the-less.

"You have our deepest sympathy," Meir said. "A terrible loss."

Arturo arrived with a cart of fruit and cheese and coffee, and one of the men jumped to take charge of serving while another escorted Arturo from the room. Everyone drifted back into silence as they ate, then 'Maria' spoke again.

"Jonas. Time is of the essence this morning. Your Mr Thomas, as I told you last night, reported your location. We eluded him yesterday, but there was a tracking device in your briefcase; this device was set in motion last night, but this diversion will only play out for so long, and perhaps not at all."

"Yes, yes, this is all well and good," Ben-Gurion said impatiently, "but it's the material in the case they want, Mr Carpenter. Anyone who possesses those documents and recordings, even our government, is in danger because of them. Had you turned them over to MI6 you would only have secured the deaths of more innocent observers. The people running this operation are simple madmen, Mr Carpenter, but the people who have unleashed them are very dangerous indeed."

"You have a solution, I assume," Carpenter said.

"Oh yes. By all rights we should turn you and your case over to Campbell, and if we were as unscrupulous as some in your government we might very well do just that. The trick, Mr Carpenter, will be to convince Morales that you are dead and to let them recover the case. Intact."

"Yes, some trick." A goat tethered for the kill, he thought.

"And if you approve, we would like to duplicate all the evidence in your possession. Now. This morning. If you agree, of course."

"And if I were to chose not to?"

"We will leave, all of us. Now."

"And if I agree?"

"The broad strokes only, Mr Carpenter. You are a dead man. If you so choose, you can move to Israel; we'll look after you, perhaps even put you to work. If you choose to turn over the material, the team assembled here will get you to Israel in, perhaps, a month. If all is successful. But again, in any event, Jonas Carpenter is a dead man. Today, tomorrow, maybe a week at the longest."

"And the material in the case? What comes of it?"

Ben-Gurion shrugged. "We will keep it . . . safe."

"Only that? Keep it safe? I want . . ."

"Mr Carpenter, you want what? For Israel, or for that matter any country, to commit suicide? Your Mr Kennedy was our friend too. We grieve for him too. There will be justice, Mr Carpenter. Not God's justice. Mortal justice. In time, in good time."

"Mr Carpenter," Golda Meir enjoined, "we share your grief. We understand your confusion and your reluctance, but without us you will fail. You will die, the material will fall into the hands of the assassins, and you will be vilified. That has, if I'm not mistaken, already begun. The authorities in Ireland are already on the lookout for you. You are compromised, totally."

"And," Maria added, "time is of the essence right now." She looked at the man whom she obviously regarded as her superior and he nodded at her and shrugged. "You must understand that by coming here the Prime Minister and the Foreign Minister have conveyed to you the highest level of interest and commitment to your safety. The integrity of the information will be maintained, as will the likelihood of it's use in the future against those who committed this horrible crime. You will live; not as an American hiding in an Irish Abbey, true, but you will live an honorable life, and your service will be remembered. You will have a future."

"One question," Carpenter said to 'Maria'.

"Yes, by all means," said the Prime Minister.

Still looking at Maria, he spoke in quiet terms full of meaning directly to her: "Are you married?"

"No," she said with knowing eyes. "No, I am not. Yet."

"Then I'm in."

__________

[note: this work is, as always and of course, a work of fiction - with perhaps a bit of artistic license thrown in for good measure this time around.. . . ]