you Israelis like the Kremlin loves the Vatican. I'm not concerned as much about the Syrian police as I am about Ahmed and Miriam Kamel. I'm going into Syria like a doomed sinner and my only salvation is a couple of Arabs I trust like the plague."
Leah dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, then said, "So far the Kamels have proved trustworthy. After all, they did tip Hamosad to the SLA cell operating out of the House of Medals."
"Which doesn't prove a damn thing." I said. "The Syrian Liberation Army is ten times more kill-crazy than the PLO and Black September combined. Karameh and his top boys wouldn't think twice about sacrificing their own people to accomplish some particular end."
"You mean if the Kamels are lying to AXE and to Hamosad?" Leah gave me a puzzled look. "But what could the SLA hope to accomplish?"
I sighed, picked up a glass of wine and stared thoughtfully into the red depths. "Suppose the SLA wanted you Israelis to bomb a fake base? To do that, the Kamels would have to lead me to within sight of a phony camp. That's one possibility."
"But not very probable in my opinion."
Finishing the wine, I placed the glass on the table and pushed back my chair. "Another possibility is that Syria might want to start a war with Israel, using the Israeli bombing of the fake base as an excuse. But I don't think so. The Syrians aren't quite that stupid. Even if they were, the Russians wouldn't let them."
Leah smiled at me, got up from the table and we went over to the couch and sat down. It was only 7:30 and there was still plenty of time to say our intimate goodbyes.
She leaned back on the couch, her eyes flashing more provocatively than usual. "I thought you were going to make something up to me," she said softly. "Or have you forgotten?" Before I could answer, her arms instinctively reached around my neck, her heart pounding with such ferocity that I could see her skin quivering above it.
As we kissed, Leah felt my excitement grow and whispered, "The bedroom will be more comfortable."
Leah slipped out of her clothes as we walked across the room. She stretched across the bed languidly and watched me undress, her eyes half-closed. Before I could finish, her hands folded around the nape of my neck, and she pulled me down on top of herself.
The love-act with Leah was an ever-increasing sensation of endless pleasure. Her breasts, her slim waist, her well-formed thighs, the ecstatic expression her beautiful face all combined into a succession of thrills, making me want to caress them all at the same time. Successively, I managed to do them all justice, sending her into heights of rapture. She began shrieking and gasping, and then she began to moan. Her arms clasped me tight with iron determination; her powerful thighs closed around me, and I felt her tightening in that lubricous haven to which I constantly strove with all my might. I felt an irresistible impulse to propel myself forward, and covered her with a last, ultimate advance that left no particle of air between us.
Odd, I thought. Tonight I was in heaven.
Tomorrow I'd be in Syria — in hell…
Chapter Five
Although Damascus is said to be the oldest continually inhabited city in the world, it does not look old. Modern apartment and office buildings rise on either side of broad landscaped boulevards while the residential area is laid out with small green squares and broad lawns. Flower gardens surround attractive villas.
This was not my first visit to Damascus, so I knew that the most beautiful view of the city was at sunset from the Salihiya Hill, a ten minute drive from the center of the city. Below the hill lies Damascus, the Barada River fanning out into seven branches, traced by poplar trees which line their banks and by the nearby green of the gardens. Damascus' shining white houses and its many domed mosques are encircled by green parks and fruit groves which end abruptly at the desert's edge. Tall, slim minarets push skyward and, as the sun drops below
Leah dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, then said, "So far the Kamels have proved trustworthy. After all, they did tip Hamosad to the SLA cell operating out of the House of Medals."
"Which doesn't prove a damn thing." I said. "The Syrian Liberation Army is ten times more kill-crazy than the PLO and Black September combined. Karameh and his top boys wouldn't think twice about sacrificing their own people to accomplish some particular end."
"You mean if the Kamels are lying to AXE and to Hamosad?" Leah gave me a puzzled look. "But what could the SLA hope to accomplish?"
I sighed, picked up a glass of wine and stared thoughtfully into the red depths. "Suppose the SLA wanted you Israelis to bomb a fake base? To do that, the Kamels would have to lead me to within sight of a phony camp. That's one possibility."
"But not very probable in my opinion."
Finishing the wine, I placed the glass on the table and pushed back my chair. "Another possibility is that Syria might want to start a war with Israel, using the Israeli bombing of the fake base as an excuse. But I don't think so. The Syrians aren't quite that stupid. Even if they were, the Russians wouldn't let them."
Leah smiled at me, got up from the table and we went over to the couch and sat down. It was only 7:30 and there was still plenty of time to say our intimate goodbyes.
She leaned back on the couch, her eyes flashing more provocatively than usual. "I thought you were going to make something up to me," she said softly. "Or have you forgotten?" Before I could answer, her arms instinctively reached around my neck, her heart pounding with such ferocity that I could see her skin quivering above it.
As we kissed, Leah felt my excitement grow and whispered, "The bedroom will be more comfortable."
Leah slipped out of her clothes as we walked across the room. She stretched across the bed languidly and watched me undress, her eyes half-closed. Before I could finish, her hands folded around the nape of my neck, and she pulled me down on top of herself.
The love-act with Leah was an ever-increasing sensation of endless pleasure. Her breasts, her slim waist, her well-formed thighs, the ecstatic expression her beautiful face all combined into a succession of thrills, making me want to caress them all at the same time. Successively, I managed to do them all justice, sending her into heights of rapture. She began shrieking and gasping, and then she began to moan. Her arms clasped me tight with iron determination; her powerful thighs closed around me, and I felt her tightening in that lubricous haven to which I constantly strove with all my might. I felt an irresistible impulse to propel myself forward, and covered her with a last, ultimate advance that left no particle of air between us.
Odd, I thought. Tonight I was in heaven.
Tomorrow I'd be in Syria — in hell…
Chapter Five
Although Damascus is said to be the oldest continually inhabited city in the world, it does not look old. Modern apartment and office buildings rise on either side of broad landscaped boulevards while the residential area is laid out with small green squares and broad lawns. Flower gardens surround attractive villas.
This was not my first visit to Damascus, so I knew that the most beautiful view of the city was at sunset from the Salihiya Hill, a ten minute drive from the center of the city. Below the hill lies Damascus, the Barada River fanning out into seven branches, traced by poplar trees which line their banks and by the nearby green of the gardens. Damascus' shining white houses and its many domed mosques are encircled by green parks and fruit groves which end abruptly at the desert's edge. Tall, slim minarets push skyward and, as the sun drops below
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