Al Andalus

After a few minutes her eyes fluttered open. When she caught sight of me her lips flashed a little smile. "Don't worry, Thomas, I'm alright, now; I just feel very weak. Let me sleep a little and I'll be fine." Then she closed her eyes.

Once Esther's breathing told me she had gone back to sleep, a wave of exhaustion swept over me. The assassination attempt, Henry's death, the revelations I'd heard, and now my impromptu surgery on Esther all combined to sap any remaining energy out of me. I got up and turned out the lights in our room, then sat down, kicked off my shoes and tossed my keys and wallet on the nightstand. There was nowhere else to sleep except the floor, and I didn't think I could handle that, so I slid in beside Esther. I was out like a light when my head hit the pillow.

December 29

The sky was light when I woke up, and I was embarrassed to discover that I had cuddled up to Esther with my arm around her waist. I gently extracted my arm, hoping not to wake her. I didn't want her to get the wrong idea. She still seemed to be asleep, so I pulled on my shoes, grabbed my wallet and the keys, and went out to the car to find some food for us.

Fortunately there was a fast-food place near the drugstore I'd found last night, and I was able to pick up a sack of breakfast sandwiches and a couple of large coffees. When I got back to our motel, Esther was awake and sitting up in bed. At her request I changed the bandage around her arm. I was pleased to see that the bleeding had stopped and that there were no obvious signs of an infection.

Then I had to help her get her sweater back on. I tried to be dispassionate about being so close to a barely clothed female, but it wasn't easy. Thankfully, I didn't do anything to hurt her or offend her.

Esther and I were both ravenous, and we tore into the sandwiches. We were sipping our coffee when she looked at me curiously and said, "I didn't know Ginny had a tattoo."

"She doesn't," I said. "What made you think that?"

"I woke up during the night and had to go to the bathroom. When I came back to bed, I noticed your wallet had fallen open to a picture of her. It looked like she had a tattoo on her neck."

My depression came back in a rush. "That's an old picture," I said flatly, "and it's not a tattoo, it's a port wine stain."

Esther must have picked up on my tone because she raised her eyebrows and asked, "Want to tell me about it?"

Ginny and I went to the same high school together. She was bright and cute and slender, and I was crazy about her. But I was shy and nerdy, so I could never work up the nerve to ask her out. Anyway, Ginny was born with a port wine stain on her neck. She was very self-conscious about it, and unfortunately the other kids teased her about it unmercifully.

One day I was walking down the hall when I saw a group of them surrounding her and taunting her. "Ginny jelly," they called her birthmark, and that must have hurt because she was crying. Suddenly I was running as fast as I could, and I jumped in front of them, my fists clenched and my face red and distorted. "You get away from her!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "You leave her alone! She's beautiful and you're just too dumb to see it."

Any one of the guys could have mopped the floor with me if he'd wanted to, but I was in such a rage that I didn't care, and that must have cowed them. Finally one of the girls on the edge of the group tugged on a guy's arm and said, "Come on, leave her alone," and suddenly the little group of harassers dissipated.

I turned to Ginny, who was watching all this through red, weepy eyes. "Come on," I said, "let's skip class and get out of here for a while." I led her out to the football field, and we climbed up into the stands.

"Why did you say that, Thomas?" she asked hesitantly. "Why did you say I was 'beautiful'?"

"Because you are, Ginny," I said earnestly. "You think your birthmark makes you look ugly, but I think it makes you unique and special."

"But it's ugly," she insisted. "I see it every day in the mirror and I hate it."

"That's where you're wrong," I insisted. "You look at yourself and the stain is all you can see. I look at you and I see a beautiful, special girl. You focus on your birthmark, I see the whole you."

She looked at me in wonder and then suddenly reached over and kissed me on the lips. That was the start of our relationship. We wound up going to college together and getting married after graduation.

But the thing was, Ginny never really believed that she was beautiful. That mark on her neck was always on her mind, and she continued to try to conceal it with make-up or hide it with the clothes she wore. Anyway, after we graduated and she got a job, she wanted to use her income to get the port wine stain removed. I loved her the way she was, but she was determined and went to a specialist to explore getting laser treatments.

The doctor gave her the good news that the treatments were really effective and could virtually eliminate the birthmark. But he had bad news too. He told her that it would take eight to ten treatments to do the job and that she'd have to wait several months between treatments to let her skin heal. The other bad news was the expense, which wasn't cheap and wasn't covered by insurance. But Ginny was so excited by the prospect of getting rid of her stain that I nothing else mattered to her.

Anyway, Ginny finished the treatments about a year ago, and they changed her outlook completely. Her self-confidence soared, and she responded by becoming flirty and more outgoing. She also started wearing more revealing clothing now that she didn't have to hide that birthmark on her shoulder and neck. Of course that began to attract attention from other males. I wasn't happy about it, but Ginny loved it. She told me it felt great to have people look at her with admiration, not pity. Her new attitude bothered me, but when I tried to say anything she accused me of not letting her enjoy herself. I was glad Ginny was happy so I kept my reservations to myself. You know how well that worked out for me.

Esther looked at me in silence for a long time, and I figured she thought I was a total wimp. Instead, she finally said, "You're an interesting man, Thomas. You're not what I expected at all." Then she stood up abruptly. "We need to get back on the highway. The morning is almost gone and we've got a lot of driving ahead of us."

Although Esther said her arm was better, she still wasn't comfortable driving so I climbed back behind the wheel. In no time we had left Tennessee and crossed over into Virginia, but we still had nearly eight hours of driving ahead of us.

As we rolled north on I-81, I glanced over at Esther. "So what do you know about the Al Andalus virus? Why are your people so worried about it?" I asked her.

She was all business now. "Our people have been working on it ever since we discovered it, but they haven't made any progress at all. They thought at first it was some sort of information retrieval routine, something to steal passwords, secret documents, confidential data. But the problem is that the damned thing doesn't do anything. We've quarantined different types of computers and 'infected' them with it. The virus runs momentarily, then shuts itself down."

"Then why are you so worried?" I asked.

"For three reasons," she said. "First, our people have never seen anything like it. It seems to be very complex and highly sophisticated. No one would go to that much trouble for something innocent. The second reason is that we're picking up all kinds of back-channel activity from ISIS. Everything we hear seems to indicate that something big is about to happen - we just don't know what or when. And finally, there's you."

"Me?" I said in surprise.

"Exactly," she said. "When we steered this virus to you, the noise levels peaked and then went silent. Then, the next thing we knew, two very bad types got put on your tail."

"Ameer and his brother," I said bitterly.

"Precisely," she said. "When you add it all up, whatever Al Andalus is, it's critical to ISIS's plans. We've got to figure out its purpose and how to stop it."

"So when we get back to D.C., I guess we need to go straight to Fort Meade," I said.

Esther shook her head in an emphatic "no."

"I really doubt they'll let me in there with you," she said, "and they might not even let you in after what happened in Oak Ridge. Rather than risk a long delay, I think it would be better for you to tackle the virus from your home computer. You have secure access to the NSA network, don't you?"

I told her I did, so that became our plan. The only part of working from home I wasn't happy about was the possibility of encountering Ginny. After all I had learned, I just didn't feel like I was ready for a confrontation with her. Besides, it would only serve as a distraction to keep me from focusing on the virus. Having it out with my wife would have to come later.

I did my best to make up for our late start, but we kept losing time along the way. In addition to the inevitable pit stops and a break to pick up some lunch, the wound in Esther's arm was clearly causing her more pain than the ibuprofen could handle. Finally, I pulled off the interstate at Harrisonburg and went looking for a drugstore. I passed by a couple of chain stores and finally found an old-fashioned family drugstore. The pharmacist on duty was a woman, and when I showed her Esther's arm, she became very sympathetic.

"I'm trying to get my wife to our family doctor in D.C.," I told her, "but I don't know whether she can hold out till we get there."

The woman went back among the shelves and reappeared with a little white envelope. "Here's a Lortab," she told me. "It's a combination of acetaminophen and hydrocodone. I can't give you more than one without a prescription, but this should help your wife till you can get home. I'd recommend she have something to eat before she takes it."

I thanked the druggist profusely for her kindness and we climbed back into the car. Esther wanted to hold off a little before she took the medicine in case it made her sleepy, so I drove another hour until we reached the turn-off to I-66 and stopped in Front Royal. By then it was after 8:00 p.m., and we were both hungry. We found a funny little burger joint called Spelunker's - I guess because of Skyline Caverns - and we had burgers and fries, which were surprisingly good.

Esther took the Lortab with her meal, and it seemed to hit her almost right away because she started to get drowsy right after we finished. I was worn out too, so it was obvious to me that we weren't going to make it home that night. There was a Super 8 motel almost right across the street, so after we finished our meal I drove the car over there and got us a room. I helped Esther inside and she was out like a light only minutes after she hit the bed.

That left me to sit around in the darkened room, and once again my mind started revisiting everything that had happened. In only a few days my whole life had been turned upside down. And the person who had caused all this chaos was none other than my wife Ginny, the woman I had loved without reservation and for whom I would have gladly given my life before all this started.

Betrayal, I thought, has to be the worst sin. When you love and trust someone only to discover that they aren't equally committed, it shakes the very foundations of your being. I felt so many emotions that I couldn't even identify them all. The only thing I knew for sure was that Ginny was the last person I wanted to see.

The more I thought about the possibility of encountering her, the more upset I got until I did something I shouldn't have done. I went outside, turned on my cellphone and called Ginny's number, hoping that she wouldn't answer. Sure enough, the call rolled over to her voice mail, and hearing her recorded message brought my emotions quickly to the boiling point.

"It's me, Ginny," I said, trying hard not to yell at her. "Listen, I know all about you, about your affair with Ameer. I heard what you'd like to do with him when you're stuck at home with me, and it made me sick. I can't believe you betrayed me like that, after all I've done for you and especially after all the things you said to me about faithfulness."

I realized my voice was rising and I took a deep breath to try to calm myself. "Anyway, I'll be home tomorrow and I don't want you there. Go to your boyfriend's house or to your parents' or go to hell for all I care. Just stay away from our house, because the only time I want to see you again is in divorce court!"

I wanted to say more, something to convey all the hurt and anger I felt, but I couldn't come up with anything clever so I hung up. At that moment I wished I had an old-fashioned phone with a receiver so I could slam it down.

I was still pretty upset so I walked east along South Street for a little way and then retraced my steps. When I got back to our room, Esther was still sleeping. I looked at her and wondered what she was really like. Did she have a boyfriend back in Israel? Did she cheat on him? I shook my head, trying to dispel my dark thoughts. At least she had saved my life. And even though I knew she wanted my help, she hadn't hesitated to put herself in harm's way for me. That had to count for something.

I lay down beside her. Even through the covers I could feel the warmth of her body, and it felt good. Then I realized that I was likely to be sleeping alone for a long time to come. On that sad note I drifted off to sleep.

December 30

The "continental breakfast" the motel offered wasn't much but it fueled us enough to get us on our way. Esther told me that her arm was feeling a lot better, but when we were ready to leave I got back behind the wheel. Besides, I knew the way to my home in College Park.

It took us another hour and a half to get to Washington, and then we had to drive halfway around the Beltway. But once we made it to College Park the traffic dropped off significantly. With all the University of Maryland students gone for Christmas break, the streets were almost deserted.

I drove through our neighborhood warily, but when I went by my house it appeared that Ginny had gotten my warning because her car was not in the driveway. I circled around the block once and then parked.

Inside the house was a mess, but I ignored it. I sure didn't feel like I had to apologize to Esther for Ginny's sloppy housekeeping.

We had turned our formal dining room into a home office, and I led Esther in there and began booting up my computer. But before I could log on to the NSA network, I heard a key in the lock of the front door. "Damn it," I cursed, "I told her not to come here!"

I ran to the door and yanked it open. There was Ginny, tears pouring down her face. "I'm sorry, Thomas, I'm sorry," she blubbered. Before I could say anything she was shoved forward into my arms, and as I automatically tried to catch her, a man suddenly emerged from behind the frame of the door and barged into the house. "What in the hell . . ." I yelled, but then I saw the big black automatic he was pointing at me and I stopped abruptly.

Esther had rushed up behind us. "Get back," the man said menacingly, brandishing his gun to include all three of us. After slamming the door shut, his face took on a grin of triumph as he stared at us. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ameer Nassir." He gestured at me. "And you must be the hapless cuckold," he said with a sneer. Then his eyes caught sight of Esther and his smile widened. "And who have we here? I do believe it's the redoubtable Esther Freeman, the Mossad lackey."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Esther tense and I realized that she was about to spring. Ameer must have seen it too because he shifted his gun to aim at her. "No, no, no," he warned her, "don't even think about it. You would die even if you managed to get my gun." Then he pulled open his jacket and we all could see the vest he wore under it. "One wrong move and I blow us all away, me to Paradise and you three to damnation."

Esther relaxed her muscles while Ginny and I stood there, paralyzed by fear.

"Very well, nerd boy," Ameer said with a sneer, "let's see how much you've learned about our little surprise." With that he stepped into my home office, turned to my computer and moved the mouse to clear the screensaver. When it did so, the flatscreen revealed the login page for the NSA network. "The password," he said, "give it to me."

"No," I said flatly. I was hoping that keeping him in the dark about our progress might give us some leverage with him.

"So, the cuckold wants to show he has some balls after all," he laughed. "I wonder what it will take for me to convince you to cooperate? Maybe if I kill the Jewess . . ."

I saw Esther stand up a little straighter, and I realized that she was fully prepared to die. But Ameer laughed again. "No, she is a soldier and I think you know that all soldiers must be prepared to die sooner or later. I don't think her death will motivate you."

Suddenly he swung the gun towards Ginny. "So how about this one?" he asked rhetorically. "I wonder if you still have enough feelings left for her to want to prevent her death?"

"Ameer!" Ginny shrieked. "You can't mean it, not after everything we've done . . ."

Ameer's face contorted into a look of distaste and contempt. "Be silent! You are nothing to me, simply another Western whore ready to spread her legs and dishonor her husband at the first opportunity." Then he turned back to me and his face took on a sly smile. "But I don't think I'll kill her. What if I merely mutilate her, say shoot off one of those breasts she likes to flaunt?"

Ginny uselessly clasped her hands across her bosom and began to sob piteously, but Ameer kept his eyes on me the whole time. Dammit, I was so angry at her for betraying me, but I still didn't want to see her tortured. I couldn't shake off years of protecting her that easily.

"Alright, alright," I said, "don't shoot her. I'll give you the password."

"Much better," he said, turning away from Ginny and back toward the keyboard. "What is it?"

"His hands," I thought, "I've got to capture his hands." Suddenly I had a crazy idea. If it didn't work he would probably kill me on the spot. But then, I thought, he'll probably kill me anyway once he's certain that I haven't figured out how to disable his virus.

"I don't have it memorized," I told him. "I used the product code written on that metal cube on the bookshelf."

"You really are a nerd," he said with contempt as he picked the cube up and examined it. It was made of a flat silvery metal about an inch on each side.

"But that's only half the password," I said breathlessly. "The other half is on the second cube over here," I said, pointing at a wooden cabinet behind me.

Now his suspicions were fully alerted, and I could almost feel the spot on my chest where his gun was aimed. "Pick it up and show it to me - slowly now," he directed.

Being careful not to make any sudden moves, I picked up the cube off the wooden shelf and held it up for him to see. It was identical to the one he held. "Do you want me to bring it to you?" I asked.

"No!" he snapped quickly. "Place it on the floor and slide it over to me with your foot. Gently. . ."

Ginny was still crying and Esther was watching me with a curious expression as I knelt down, placed the cube on the floor and gave it a shove toward him with my shoe. "Now back up, all of you," he snarled.

When we were back against the far wall he put his gun down within easy reach, knelt and grabbed the second cube in his right hand while still holding the first one in his left. Then he stood and brought the two up to examine them. But, to his astonishment and ours, his hands seemed to accelerate towards each other and slam together with so much force that I heard the bones in his fingers fracture.