The Holy assassin

26

Certainly Abu Rashid’s face had seen better days. Cut lips, a swollen eye, some internal and external bruises, especially on the body hidden under the white tunic. In spite of everything, he didn’t flinch and kept the same calm expression of knowing a greater truth.

The foreigner went to the lavatory, and then sat toward the back, in one of the luxurious, cream-colored seats of the private jet flying over Bulgarian territory. The plan had been to return by commercial flight from Ben-Gurion Airport with a stop in Frankfurt, before the final destination, Rome. Abu Rashid’s words so disturbed the foreigner’s superior that he immediately ordered a private jet prepared and a change of route. They left from Kefar Gallim in order not to raise suspicions, and Abu Rashid cooperated at every step. Perhaps that was why his face was in the condition we witness. The blood on his lip had dried, but his swollen left eye seemed to get worse with each passing moment. All this because he wouldn’t recant the words he allegedly heard from the mouth of Our Lady in a vision. Because he was Muslim, this greatly aggravated his situation. There was no mention in religious history of a Catholic saint appearing to a believer of another religion, let alone the Mother of God in person. The situation was far worse when the Virgin’s words, communicated to the world by an Arab, could cause a split in the Catholic world.

The foreigner thought through the various possibilities as he looked out the tiny window. There was nothing to see, since it was dark; night had set in for the rest of the flight, which wouldn’t be long. As God was his witness, he didn’t want to hurt the old man, but if he opened his mouth in public, everyone would suffer. He needed to be silenced, discredited, which was not difficult. A Muslim who sees Mary should be seen as a joke, cause only for laughter in the Catholic and Muslim worlds. The problem was what he was saying. If someone more intelligent were to think deeply about his words, he might easily find the truth behind them. And that couldn’t happen. They had to force the man to recant. Even if he actually saw Mary. She had to understand. There were Catholics and others, no mixture, and there never had been. The day this happened religions would come to an end. This was serious, very serious.

He got up again and went over to Abu Rashid’s seat. He rested with his eyes closed, smiling slightly.

‘I know it perfectly,’ the old man said without opening his eyes.

‘What do you know?’

‘I know where we are going. You were going to ask me that.’

The foreigner sat down on the seat beside him and sighed. He looked at the black briefcase strapped to the seat. Besides Abu Rashid, another of his responsibilities was that black case. These premonitions were unreal. Not for a moment did he think it was really the Virgin helping the old man. He’d lose all power and control if he let this idea take over. It would be her way of saying she couldn’t count on him or any other Christian. Or that in reality everyone was equal. Shit, shit, shit.

‘It might not seem so, but I’m here to help you,’ the foreigner claimed. ‘If you cooperate, it’ll be good for you and for us.’

‘I haven’t done anything but cooperate,’ Abu Rashid declared with his eyes still closed.

‘I need more on your part, Abu Rashid,’ he observed. ‘Give me what I need to intercede with my superior, and you can go free.’

A smile stretched the Muslim’s lips.

‘What you want is for me to lie.’

‘I want you to cooperate.’

‘I’m cooperating,’ Abu Rashid insisted. ‘It’s not my fault you’ve chosen the wrong side. But that’s your right. There are always two sides.’

‘Are you saying you are defending those who want to harm the Church?’

‘I am Muslim. I couldn’t be less interested in your Church.’ He opened his eyes wide. ‘I am on her side.’

‘I am, too,’ the foreigner claimed.

‘You are on the side of the Church.’

‘The Church that represents Her. That has made her image, made her what she is.’

‘Precisely,’ Abu Rashid offered, turning his eyes toward the window with a sad expression.

‘What do you know specifically about the place we’re going?’

‘I know everything I have to know.’ The old Muslim stroked his beard.

‘Can you be more explicit?’

‘Do you know what happened the thirty-third day after the death of the former pope?’

‘I don’t know,’ he sighed. ‘But, according to my contacts with my superiors, I don’t think you know, either.’

‘Maybe it would be better for me not to know anything,’ Abu Rashid confessed.

‘Does that mean we are coming to an agreement? You can forget everything you believe you know?’

‘My friend, you’re a politician and work for politicians. I can’t trust you. You’re capable of selling the Mother of Heaven herself.’

The foreigner got up and rolled up his sleeves. There were still a few hours of flight remaining.