"I need to see the CIA agent in charge," Abbas announced when he was asked his business at the American embassy.
"Who may I say is enquiring?" asked the Marine guard at the door.
"My name is Abbas. Tell the agent Abu Abbas was my father."
"Wait here please," the Marine said as he picked up the phone and announced he had a visitor.
"Someone will be right with you."
The agent in charge knew exactly who Abu Abbas was. He even knew who Abbas was because the Israelis had been asking him about the kid’s whereabouts. Normally he would have handed the boy over, but he was curious about why he was here and what he wanted. He knew it took a lot of courage to show up at the embassy and announce your name.
The agent in charge sent one of his subordinates to see what the kid was after.
"Mr. Abbas, my name is Brad Hamilton," the agent said extending his hand. "What can I do for you?"
"First, I am not Mr. Abbas, my first name is Abbas and my last name is Malaky."
Hamilton of course had known that.
"Second, I am here to find out what I can do for you."
"What do you mean?" asked Hamilton.
"Look, I am only seventeen years old and I believe you know who my father was and what he did otherwise you wouldn’t give me the time of day. I am not like my father though. I don’t want to live the kind of life he lived. I want to be educated. I want to go to college in America, and if you want me to work for you, I am willing to do so. I know the Israelis are probably looking for me and if they find me I will be a dead man."
"What makes you think we know what the Israelis are looking for?"
"You are the CIA and if I know anything, I am sure you know."
"I’ll have to check with my superiors," said Hamilton. "I’ll have to get back to you. How can I reach you?"
"I will check with you in a couple of days. I am on the run and have no place to stay."
"Very well then Abbas. Just ask for me when you come by."
It had been nearly five months since his father’s death. He had stayed true to his word and had remained with his Lebanese friend only a week; he had been moving around, planning and plotting and sleeping anywhere he felt safe. He slept in back yards, garages, on the beach and in the woods. He had no money, so he stole anything he could get his hands on to stay alive. He survived.
I am relying on you my son. He heard that sentence in his head every time he was hungry and tired and about to give up.
Three months after his father’s death, and only when he was sure the Israelis were no longer at the camp, he ventured back. The first place he went to was the home of one of his father’s betrayers.
The man was stunned when he opened the door.
"Where have you been?" he reacted quickly. "We have been worried about you."
Abbas had to keep his feelings under control, even though he would have liked nothing better than to wring this man’s neck with his bare hands. Disarmingly, he hugged him and started sobbing.
"I am so sorry about your father," the man said. "The Israelis really did a job on him before they killed him. There was nothing anyone could do."
"I understand" Abbas lied. "My father considered you his best friend, that’s why you are the first person I have come to."
Abbas knew that if he showed up at the camp again, he would be safe. Everyone would know he was alive and where he was staying. He knew if anything happened to him this man would have a hard time explaining his disappearance.
"Where were you?" the man asked, needing to know.
"My father made me run away after the first explosion. I really wanted to stay and fight, but he would not have it. He did tell me though, that as soon as I felt safe I should look you up."
"I am glad you did," said the man relieved. Abu Abbas was telling the truth after all, he thought.
"What are your plans?" the man asked. "Do you want to take over the military section of the organization?"
"I think you would be the better man for that," answered Abbas. "I just want to finish school and get on with my life. If you need my help in anything, I will be glad to serve you as I served my father. Meanwhile I need to get a job and find a place to live.”
“Nonsense,” said the man. “You will stay with us. You are like a son to me. I loved your father as much as you did."
Abbas was feeling sick listening to the lies but he was putting his plan into action and things were working the way they were supposed to.
"He loved you too," Abbas lied again. "He considered you like a brother. That’s why he asked me to keep in touch with you. And thank you for the offer. I promise I will not wear out my welcome. As soon as I get a job and save a little money, I will be out of here."
"Not a chance," said the man." You will stay with me until you finish school. There will be no need for you to work. The PLO has a policy of taking care of the children of fallen heroes."
"Thank you again," Abbas said. "I accept."
"Let me show you to your room."
Abbas followed the man. On his way to the room, the man’s wife approached him and gave him a hug, condoling him on his father’s death.
When Abbas settled in, he wondered what this woman would think of her husband if she knew what he had done. He even wondered what she would think of him if she found out he was planning on killing her husband.
The next day his father’s friend took him to the council meeting. Everyone was surprised and glad to see him alive except for one other man, and he seemed to breathe easier after he talked privately with Abbas’s host.
During the meeting, Abbas announced his plans for finishing his schooling, then suggested that his host take over his father’s position and the other traitor be his deputy. He told the council that his father trusted those two the most.
Everyone agreed and the two traitors were reassured that Abbas had no knowledge of their involvement in his father’s death.
When Abbas left the American Embassy he knew what he had to do. He was about to accomplish two things at the same time.
One was to get the Americans to trust him and convince the Israelis to leave him alone. The other was to avenge his father.
CHAPTER 3 – VENGEANCE
Abbas lurked in the shadows for hours. He knew the neighborhood like no one else did – his father had insisted on it. Abbas could have found his way around the camp blindfold.
He listened, he watched and when he finally decided that everyone had retired, he began his slow but methodical advance towards his target, making sure no one could see him.
He had stayed with the family a couple of months now. They trusted him; he had made sure of that. He had never let them guess his true emotions. The man had even given him a key to his house, not that he needed it, but it definitely made things easier.
Abbas silently unlocked the door and slithered inside. First he headed for the boys’ room, as they would wake up first, he knew. He had studied that family in detail, like he had never studied anything before.
Abbas walked into the room and stood over the two boys. The older was seven, the younger was five. He really hated having to do what he was about to do because he genuinely liked them, but this was a different world. Though over the time he had spent with this family he had learned to feel affection towards the boys and they for him, he knew that one day they would come after him and he could not take that chance. He heard the father snoring and knew he would not be interrupted.
From behind