Biowar

70

A man known to be employed by Mossad, the Israeli intelligence agency, started trailing Lia at the airport; while not entirely unexpected, this complicated their arrangements as the two Desk Three ops made their way north toward the school. Rather than using the agency-retained driver, Lia had to opt for a bus. This meant, in turn, that she had to make some adjustments to her wardrobe; she pulled on a pair of scarves in the ladies’ room of the station, carefully placing a pin that contained a video fly at the rear of her hair.

The Art Room ID’ed the agent as Yacoub Bahir Ben Rahimat, a Syrian Christian who was technically a free agent but in practice a Mossad gofer. It wasn’t immediately clear how the Israelis had glommed on to her, though the fact that he was being used suggested that it was a local deal — the Syrian secret police were also trailing Lia.

Wearing her scarves and jeans — along with a lightweight bullet-proof vest — Lia approached the ticket window and asked, first in French, then in somewhat halting Arabic, for her ticket. A half hour later she found herself wedged between two evil-smelling old ladies traveling with a pair of six-year-old she-devils. The children were playing a game of tag, darting back and forth in the seat, trampling on her legs.

“Mother of God, how long?” she groaned, as if to herself.

“Another three or four hours,” said Rockman. “Syrians gave up on you. Couldn’t figure what you were up to. Don’t worry; we’ll reload up north.”

“Mmmmph.”

“What’s Syria like, anyway?”

“Mmm-mmmph.”

“Happenin’ place, huh?”

One of the girls poked her in the shin. Lia grabbed the little devil by the shirt and raised her up to eye level. The two old ladies stopped their chattering.

“Mon chou,” she started, speaking in French; chou normally meant “sweetie,” but the inflection here implied anything but. “If you don’t stop tripping over me I’m going to pluck out your eyes and eat them for dinner. You want that?”

The little girl furrowed her eyes — then started to laugh.

Realizing everything she did was being recorded, Lia let her go.