David closed the hotel room door and approached her. He set a pair of nail clippers on the table, where she was munching on some fruit. The morning sun streamed through the gauze curtains, warming her as she reached for the clippers.
“We have to be at the dock just before nightfall. At the private yacht marina in Haifa harbor. The story will be that we’re going night fishing for shark. Money may have changed hands between the patrol boats and my contact’s captain – who knows? But he’s got a fifty-foot sports fisher that can make it to Cyprus in eight hours, easy, at which point we’ll be on our own.”
“That’s great news. The sooner we’re off Israeli soil, the better. I’ve been watching the news, and all they’re talking about are the shootings. No mention of Eli.”
David nodded. “No surprise there. He didn’t exist as far as the public is concerned. Just another anonymous bureaucrat. The Mossad will cover it all up – his body probably won’t be found for weeks, and then if he’s lucky, his passing will warrant three column inches on page eighteen mourning his demise following a domestic accident. He’ll be described as a deputy director of public safety or something like that. We all know how it works when we sign up.”
“If there’s anything good to come of all this,” Jet reflected, “it’s that you’re off the radar now. Any search for you will lose steam over time. And with some plastic surgery, nobody would recognize you.”
“That reminds me. Did you get something done? You look a little different.”
“Got my nose narrowed. The effect’s subtle but effective.”
“If anything, you’re more beautiful than before. If that’s even possible.”
She snipped at the hand stitches and quickly pulled them free of her skin. The scar would be barely noticeable within a week.
Jet rose and walked over to where he was standing and put her arms around his neck, and then kissed him long and deep. When she pulled back, she was smiling.
“Are you angling for more lovemaking, David? Because compliments are never a bad way to go about it.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“It’s not a negative. It’s the only thing I can read about you. Everything else, you’re the sphinx. Inscrutable.”
“You have a lot of that going on, too – the inscrutable thing.” He kissed her again.
“How’s the stomach? You sure you can handle another round?” she asked, already pulling her top over her head.