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Chapter 15

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The taxi took us to a place in the suburbs of Tartous to the house of Abu Hasan, who was a friend of George's father. We could not stay in hotels or any other place where they might ask for any form of identification. We were in a different country, and our crime might not be more important than what was happening in Syria, but the influence of Rachidy's family might follow us here. They have always been friends with Syrian government officials, and Tartous was not a part of the Syrian war because it was one of the few places that held a strong allegiance to the government of Bashar Al-Asad. We didn't want to risk it. We still didn't know if anybody here would recognize us. People here watched Lebanese TV stations more than they did the Syrian stations, and our images must be everywhere on social media.

Abu Hasan's house was big with many empty rooms he was renting out to tourists who still came to Tartous. They were mostly Syrians who relocated to Tartous after losing their homes or simply fled dangerous conflict areas to this haven. Some tourists were Lebanese who would still come here after the civil war, and that was not something I liked very much about the place.

We took one room, which was like a hotel room with a big bed, a closet and a dresser. There was also a TV in the room.

We waited until it was dark, and we went shopping for some clothes. We bought glasses and some other accessories from scarves to hats to make it a little more difficult for people to recognize us and for the first time in years, I didn't shave my beard. I also helped Pam dye her hair back in the room in our amateurish attempts to be in disguise.

I went down to get some food from a restaurant nearby. I was waiting for my order when I had direct eye contact with him. What were the odds? I didn't look for long, and I wasn't sure if he recognized me, but I knew who the man was. I didn't know his name, but I was sure he was the same man I saw more than once meeting with Mr. Rachidy in the company back in Lebanon. He might be a friend or a business partner. I tried to remember if he looked at me the same way I looked at him, but I couldn't tell for sure. I took the food and rushed back to the room where Pam was trying her new clothes on with a smile I hadn't seen on her face for a long time. I didn't have the heart to stop her fashion show and all the funny things she did to make me laugh, but I knew we could not spend the night in that place.

Pam was trying on the new clothes we bought, and she had me sit on the sofa and wait for her to come out of the bathroom with every new outfit she put on. She walked across the room in front of the couch as if she were a top model, and I thought she could be one. How could a lovely woman such as herself ever be involved in these misfortunes? She could have gotten anything she wanted from any man she wanted. She was like a top model sexy as hell as she was trying all these clothes we bought as if they designed them for her and she got to set the standard for all others to fit in them or go to hell, but I saw that little girl so happy with her new Christmas clothes so much she could not sleep the night before dreaming about them. I imagined ribbons in her hair and her childish laughs filling the air of the room with echoes which had the power to transform the room in Tartus into a piece of paradise. I didn't have the heart to stop the show, so I let her go on, maybe for selfish reasons, too. I was enjoying the show.

"You are so funny, so beautiful."

"You think so?"

"I could lock myself with you in a cell for the rest of my life." I blurted it out, but I was lucky Pamela thought I was just being funny.

"How romantic!"

"A dungeon with you would feel free." I might have been carried away and said more than I should for Pam's young eyes transformed into powerful ones of a woman. When she looked at me, and she came close, she said nothing, and I searched for a clue in her face to predict what she was thinking about, but my mind shut down, and I had that urge in my chest, that feeling of warmth traveling in my veins from my hand where she touched to where her breasts closed in on my chest as she leaned on me and kissed me. It felt as if I had never loved a woman before and the strange thing was I felt no guilt at all. I wanted nothing to stop the moment; nothing could. Not even the thought of Susan and the children would as I had them right then smiling at me from afar somewhere in my imagination, but I had to tell her what should have told her the moment I walked in the door.

"Pam"

"What?" her voice was so irresistible I wished I could linger on, but we were running out of time.

"We have to leave now." My tone was serious enough to make her stand back up and turn into the professional Pamela I used to see in the company.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I saw someone. I think he knows me."

"Who? Where, here?"

"Yes. Down at the restaurant while I was waiting to get the order. I looked at him, and I think he was staring back. I am not sure. He's one of Rachidy's business associates or friends, I don't know. I remember seeing him many times in the office with Rachidy."

"What does he look like?"

"He is short, a little fat wearing glasses, bald with dark skin, and..."

"This must be Maher Kamel."

"Who?"

"Maher Kamel is one of Rachidy's best friends. He is a big shot and has a lot of connections with the government here. I never liked him. He always looked at me in a way that made me uncomfortable no matter what I was wearing but judging from his friend, I can't say I am surprised."

"He may not have recognized me. Maybe, we should..."

"No George, you're right. We must go now. If he's recognized you, we won't have a lot of time."

"Ok. Ok. Get all your stuff in the new handbag we bought. I will go down to look for a taxi, and I'll be back."

"Do you have the...?"

"Yes, I'm carrying it with me, but the other gun is in the bag, so make sure you hide it with the clothes."

I went down the street to find a taxi, but I didn't know where we should be going. We couldn't check in hotels. The only city close to Tartous not boiling up in the wrath of war was Latakia, but this was the stronghold of the government supporters, but it was the only choice we had.