Frightful moments

Frightful moments

A Story by Haim Kadman

An excerpt of my book "The death sciences"


Frightful moments

I shouldn't have asked him that question, whether or not he knew Carlos, but except that small slip of tongue it was a very good and pleasant day! Samir thought on his way to his scheduled meeting with Karim. He became so furious all of a sudden �" how strange? 'Carlos who,' he asked me spitting it out with such anger! And that wasn't the end of it. 'That famous scarecrow,' he called him mockingly. “The invention of the CIA and the Zionists...! Blown up of all proportions to belittle our heroic deeds! Any fool can turn out miracles, by facing unarmed civilians with automatic weapons!’ Such a reaction that foolish question of mine has created, and I’d almost had a second unpleasant foolish one. Luckily enough I kept my mouth shut and didn't retort. For haven't we ourselves faced unarmed people just as that ‘scarecrow’ did. He could guess what Karim's answer would have been, if he'd opened his trap, and he would have been right. For they fought for their freedom �" while that ‘scarecrow’ was a mere opportunist!

Anyway his main problem is about to be solved, with that bizarre compromise, which he reached with Karim �" for he didn't and couldn't have anything else, there was no other choice in fact. It’s worth trying, if I’ll succeed or if I’ll fail, I won't return to Abu-naeef �" that's sure enough! They might send me to Cuba for all I care... And I did receive my first salary, some twelve hundred pounds in a folded envelope �" sneaked under the table... Well, I nearly messed up everything yesterday, thank god Karim cooled down as fast as he had heated up! Samir thought much relieved.

The time was two twenty one, nine minutes left, and he needed a minute or two at the most to get there. As he was strolling leisurely on the wide pavement, making his way between the few passers-by, right out of the blue he heard a familiar voice calling out a name:


He panicked as if he had his worst nightmare turned into reality, so frightened was he… He wasn't able to attach that familiar voice to a face. He couldn't even recall whose voice was it...! Hurrying his pace he tried to get away, as fast as he could �" without daring to turn round and have a look, to identify the source of his sudden anxieties…

‘Shaoul!!!’ Once more he heard it, much closer this time, resounding, echoing in his brain a thousand times. Another second passed and a hand was laid on his shoulder, He could feel the man's hot breath on his neck.

‘What's the matter with you, are you deaf?’ The familiar voice said in Hebrew. It was Ghill, his ex room mate... Pale and utterly shocked Samir turned to him without a single word �" he was simply petrified.

‘Aren't you glad to see me, you fool!’ He barked at him in Hebrew.

‘Cut it out!’ He managed to order his old friend in English. ‘Let's find ourselves a quiet corner...’ He added and led the way, to the nearest doorway in sight.

’Listen, of course I'm glad to see you, but lets speak in English and you know very well why…’

‘But I'm the one who should be scared of speaking Hebrew.’ Ghill protested with ado, pushing Samir's shoulder slightly backwards.

‘Sure, but speaking it I'm as vulnerable as you are, no terrorist will spare me... Listen...!’ He urged his old friend again.  ‘I'm terribly short on time, I've got a very important business appointment with a Pakistani partner, and you might have wrecked our deal, if you happened to meet me in his presence… Again I must stress how sorry I'm, but I'm leaving London right after that meeting, and he's seeing me to the airport.’  He went on without letting Ghill to interrupt him. ‘Leave me your phone number and I'll call you �" as soon as I'll get back to my office.’

‘I'm with the Israeli embassy.’

‘Fine, I'll call you there! Give me five minutes will you, just imagine him seeing us together!

As he turned to go, he heard Ghill calling after him:  ‘Old Harpaz died…’

Samir stopped abruptly and turned back to face him. ‘God forbid really? Allah acbar, had a stroke or something?’                         

‘He was murdered!’

‘What a blow! What a terrible blow! Sorry but I must be off, I'll call you tonight...! He promised without looking back.                    

Raising his eyes off his wristwatch, moving fast on the broad pavement, he saw a face watching his. A typical oriental face of a dark complexion ugly and distorted with hatred; a face he had never seen before, but he wasn't going to forget it easily either. Some mad man... He told himself, trying to drive away the bad omen from his thoughts �" which that ugly horrid face, on the other side of the road represented. 

I’m a blessed young man, a lucky one... Nothing would harm me, no evil eye �" nothing!!! He kept encouraging himself, spitting right in front of him as he walked, three successive times �" just in case… I’ve managed to get away from Ghill right in time! God how close it was...! He recalled encouraging himself once more, and I’ve got two minutes to spare yet and that ugly face won't frighten me either! Looking over his shoulder to see whether Ghill isn't in his wake, he rushed towards his meeting place with Karim. Near the first news-stand he saw him waiting, hidden almost at its side �" holding a folded paper in one hand, screening the passing crowd. He was an impressive figure of a man, attired with much taste; a grey suit and a matching light blue tie, over a white shirt �" which made a fine and delicate contrast with his dark features; and although he was of an average height, his lithe body and fine cloths made him rather conspicuous, a fact that didn't fit a man of his profession. That anyhow was the little Samir had learned and known, without his well-dressed instructor's lessons.

© Haim Kadman 1991 �" all rights reserved.

© 2012 Haim Kadman

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on November 20, 2012
Last Updated on November 20, 2012
Tags: thriller, fiction, literature, terror, espionage, meeting


Haim Kadman
Haim Kadman

Petach-Tikva, Israel

Profile: A few words about myself: being a native of a small country whose waist is seventeen kilometers wide in a certain area; and in seven to eight hours drive one can cross its length, I was amaze.. more..

The game The game

A Poem by Haim Kadman