THE ANGRY DOVES
By Dorian Scott Cole
Copyright 1980, 1987, by Dorian Scott Cole
This book is copyright material, not public domain, and all rights are reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any form, in any media. This book may not be sold or included in any collection. The reader may make a printed copy of this book for his personal use.
All characters in this book are a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental
The terrain was becoming flatter and the road swung nearer the coastline as William and Kenza drove toward Tangier. The soil had become sandy and they could see the ocean. It had been a quiet drive. Neither of them had spoken much. William knew their relationship was very fragile. She was trying to rebuild it, and regain her trust in him, trying to overlook the past, and he hadn't helped by lying to her.
He was unsure whether to love her or entertain her or just be there. He felt she was just as unsure - she probably couldn't say why she had agreed to accompany him. It was a maze neither of them knew, but both of them had to follow until they found the end.
william saw the roadside sign for the Caves of Hercules and detoured to them. He had been there many times. He and Kenza entered the small caves.
"These are just big round holes in solid rock," Kenza exclaimed. She looked outside at the waves lapping against the shore a few feet away. "Did the water do this? Carve the rock?" "It's thought some ancient civilization carved millstones out of the solid rock, and over the years caves were formed as a result."
"How could they do it? What hard work!"
They continued through the few caves. William studied the markings in onefor a moment, and when he turned his head back, Kenza was gone. He looked outside from the cave opening. She was climbing atop the cave, hurriedly. He
paused, wondering if she wanted to be alone, and then heard her giggle. He smiled and chased after her.
She stopped at the top and stood gazing over the beach and the ocean, the wind feathering her hair around her face in a display of delicate beauty. When William reached the top, she waited for him. He touched her neck and her cheek, and felt her hair flutter through his fingers. "You let me catch you," William said.
She acknowledged him with a brief smile and grasped his hand to hold hands with him. "Maybe it's inevitable."
"Is that how you feel? Are you just playing out something that has to be played?"
She shrugged. "I'm a bit like these caves here. Life has chiseled lots of holes in me and I'm empty. What do I fill myself up with again?" She looked at him. "You're here... but it's not a game... I don't have to run and you don't have to chase... We don't have to play this, do we?" "No," he said softly. "Whatever we do, it's up to us. We can turn back any time."
She put her arms around him, and he held her for a long time, the two of them holding each other in the pleasant breeze, looking out at the ocean. Finally she pulled away.
"But don't take all the fun out of it!" William exclaimed.
"I like playing chase!" With that, he ran for the car, laughing, with her on his heels, squealing, "It's not fair. You can't do this. I'm the one who gets chased."
They continued to Tangier and checked into a downtown hotel. William got them separate rooms, not wanting to be presumptuous. The hotel featured the
traditional belly dancers. The walls were decorated with former stars, some of whom had appeared in American films, but the pictures were barely visible in the dim light of the labyrinth like room in the basement of the hotel.
The dancers performed their act well, even coming to their table individually to dance, but William found his gaze could not be torn from Kenza.
"We could go dancing," he offered.
"I'm a little tired for that," she said.
William guessed it was an excuse. The act wasn't over, but William could tell neither of them had much interest in it.
"Would you like to sit on the balcony and sip a cool drink?"
She smiled. "My room, or yours?"
On the balcony she stood by the rail, the warm wind pulling her hair back, revealing her neck, and pressing her blouse to outline her breasts. She was as lovely as she was before. He ached for her love - any sign of it, a kiss, a smile, a soft word. William moved to her back, placed his hand on her side and kissed her neck. She responded only with a brief smile.
"That night sixteen years ago, when we returned from Azru. Do you remember, that was the day after my mother kicked me out?"
"How could I forget? You showed up at my apartment the night before, very late, with a sack of clothes and tears in your eyes. I let you sleep on my couch that night, and then we rode to Azru the next morning."
"You asked me to marry you that night. Did you really mean it, or were you just taking pity on me."
"I meant it." He paused a moment, remembering. "I never wanted anything more badly." He touched her arm, but she continued to face away. He realized something was bothering her and she needed to talk.
"There was so much that happened that day." She looked at William.
"Like today, you were telling me that day that you might be leaving, also."
"This does seem kind of like a replay, doesn't it." He remembered well that night. He remembered the warmth of her body as they rode back toward Kenitra, as she pulled tightly against him in the cool air after sundown. She was supposed to have gone to a friend's house, but since the cycle had broken, it was too late. He took her to his apartment again.
They shared wine and cheese back at William's apartment. He could tell by her smile that the trip had helped her forget the quarrel with her mother. There was an aura of excitement surrounding her again. As he leaned against the sink, she came near him, brushing against him. The warmth of her body and the soft touch of her arm attracted him. He pulled her tightly to him. She rested her head against his chest, making him feel very protective and loving. After a moment she looked up at him longingly, her warm brown eyes wide and inviting. He kissed her long and passionately, losing himself in her charms. His hands found their way under her blouse before they pulled away.
"Listen, I want to talk to you about something important," he said, halfheartedly trying to break the spell.
"What important?" she asked, drawing his lips to hers again.
"There is a lot of talk at the base about the King not liking our bases here. Also talk about rent - money - for the bases. It all means we may close the base and leave."
Kenza held him tightly. "You go? Leave me? La!"
"La is right. Don't worry; I will not leave you. I just don't want you to worry if you hear this talk."
"No comprend." She looked up at him fearfully.
He could see the fear in her eyes. Fear that something could go wrong and she might never see him again. Fear that Americans could not be trusted, not
even him. Fear that she might be rejected again, just as her mother had rejected her. If only he could make her understand.
He pulled her to him and they clung to each other, frozen in an embrace of fear and love and passion.
"Do not leave me, William," she pleaded.
"I won't. I promise." He thought of another word she would understand. "Honor." As he said that, he felt the relief flood through her. He looked deeply into her trusting eyes and kissed her tenderly.
And then on a rising tide of emotions, he kissed her more urgently, pulling her onto the bed.
Her voice brought them both back to the present. "I don't like the replay, William."
William looked down. He knew she was afraid he was only using her as a one-night stand before leaving again.
"When will you get back from your mission?"
"I can't say."
She grew angry. "Can't or won't? Is this just a convenience for you, before you go back to your world of secret agents? I feel like I've begun to share my life with you again. Don't tell me you're leaving me indefinitely."
She paused, her anger turning to anxiety. "You're becoming important to me," she said tenderly, tears forming in her eyes.
He groped for the right words. "I know the word honor means a lot to you," he said. "I respect you for that. I never touched you, no matter how badly I wanted you, when I knew it would only hurt you. That last night, sixteen years ago, when we made love, there was commitment there. That honor was between us."
He reached out and took her hand. "I still respect that."
"I wish I could believe that."
"Honor means something to me, also. My mission involves the peace effort. I'm committed to it. I would stay if I could. Do you understand what I'm saying."
"Kenza... you're a very special woman to me."
"Special?" she asked quizzically. William could see she was hurt that she was only "special" to him.
He put his hand on her face, letting his feelings come. "More than special." He let the words linger. She put her hand on his and smiled. He was already lost in Kenza's life, and he knew it. He was in love with her again. "I love you, Kenza. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." They embraced.
"Oh, William, I want so badly to believe all this is true. Can you understand?"
He held her more tightly. "I promise, when I return, I'll come straight to you. Would you keep a light on for me."
She turned to him anxiously, "And a candle burning in the church. I have a feeling your mission is dangerous and your life is in peril."
He sighed. "Let's hope I can help end a lot of peril for others."
She studied him for a moment. "You really do care about that, don't you?"
He nodded his head. "I care about you, too."
Her eyes continued to search him. "Honor, respect, a sense of duty. I like those things in a man." She kissed him briefly on the lips and put an arm around him, and ushered him into the room. She stopped inside and kissed him again. He put both hands in her hair and pulled her lips to his, kissing her lips and her neck. Her hair, soft in his hand, like a veil shrouding her in
mystery, intrigued him. He kissed her again urgently, pressing their bodies together in a feverish embrace, her breasts like burning coals against him. As he kissed her neck again, they moved toward the bed and lay on it, stroking and caressing; her sides, beckoning him to her midriff; her midriff soft and smooth; her breasts, firm, but soft, deliciously inviting. His lips roamed and he stroked the inside of her thighs.
"I want you now!" she said urgently, pulling him onto her.
The warmth and fragrance and feel of her body flooded his senses, enveloping him, leaving him no escape. She responded just as strongly to him. The passion surged through them in huge waves as they devoured each other, consummating their love.
When they finished, she lay beside him and wept softly.
e wiped the tears from her eyes. "Are you ok?" he asked.
She nodded. "I just need you so much. It's been sixteen years since I've been loved like this. Hold me. Be who you say you are. Don't ever let me go."
* * *
They arrived the next day back in Kenitra at Louis' apartment in time for dinner. Louis seemed genuinely pleased to see William, and to Kenza's surprise, even Aysha smiled at them before going to bed early. The evening passed all too quickly as William left early due to having to leave at four AM.
With William gone, Kenza turned to her father with tears in her eyes, and told him her worst fears. "I'm afraid he's no good. He claims to be a secret agent. He's secretive alright. I don't think he's worked in six months... claims he's had a rift between him and the agency, and now he's working for someone else. But for all I know, he's a bum, a drifter, or even worse, a bloody criminal."
"He's a hard man to trust, Kenza. But this time, leave me out of it. Use
your own best judgment," Louis replied.
Kenza smiled at him. "Maybe it's just my insecurity. You know I never felt like anyone really liked me. And Mike was so cold and sometimes mean."
Louis held her.
There was a knock on the door, and Louis opened it.
"Mr. Bordeaux? I'm Andrei Fidorsky with the International Police, Interpol." He flashed a badge and quickly closed it. "I would like to ask you a few questions."
Kenza came forward as Louis let Andrei in.
"What is it?" Louis asked.
Andrei addressed them both. "Do you know the man, William Duvall?"
They both nodded. Andrei took a picture from his pocket and showed it to them. "This is the man?"
Again they both nodded, and Kenza asked, "Why are you questioning us about him? Has he done something wrong?"
"I am sorry. It is only suspicion and we are not allowed to tell the specifics of an investigation."
Has he been involved in some crime?" Kenza asked anxiously.
"Possibly. Can you tell me how long he has been here?"
"I think at least a week," Kenza replied, giving the briefest information possible.
"Have you been with him every day?"
"Only the last four."
"Has he told you his future plans? Does he plan to stay long?"
Kenza knew she must not reveal William's plans, that is, if he really was an operative. "No, I don't know his plans. I think he expects to leave in a few weeks, but he hasn't said where."
"Is he staying in this area or going back to the US?"
"He hasn't said."
"Does he still claim to be working with the CIA?"
Kenza was startled by the question and Andrei noted that. She decided she would lie and maybe keep William out of trouble. "I... I don't know."
"Thank you. You have been most helpful. Perhaps he was not where we thought he might have been. We will investigate further. We may call on you again later." Andrei left.
Kenza gave her father a look of disgust. "I wish I knew if he really has been with the CIA. I wish I knew what he is up to and if it's illegal"
* * *
Three thirty AM was not William's time of the day. Half asleep, he got into the car with the Marine driver. He had put his TR-6 in storage the night before, which got him to bed at 11:30 - four hours rest. The moon was gone, and being tired, he leaned back and let the driver do the driving, so he didn't notice the car following with the lights off.
At Sidi Slimane, he left the car and walked around a dilapidated old cargo building to a loading area where a twenty-five passenger jet waited. There were weeds growing on the unused runway. The jet loaded to the rear, and he placed his baggage in the cargo area to the right in the tail. As he climbed aboard, he saw Samuel, Paul, and Gerald. He took a seat by Samuel and the Captain boarded a short time later.
Good morning, Captain." Samuel said cheerfully.
"Good morning, gentlemen. Ready?"
Samuel turned to William. "Ready?"
William's thoughts had been on Kenza, chasing her around the beach. He took a deep breath and exhaled. "Ready," he said with false cheerfulness.
"Let's go to Munich, Captain."
William fell asleep and awoke to bright sunlight washing his face. Samuel, noticing he was awake, rose, yawned, and stretched. "We'll be in Munich, in an hour or so. I'll be leaving you there after we talk over some details. I have a briefcase full of information for you. I'll get it."
Samuel went to the rear of the plane and while leaning to get his briefcase, saw a figure in dark clothes crouched among the bags. Startled, he stepped back, and then called Gerald.
Gerald reached down, grabbed the intruder by the upper arm and pulled him out. "The ship has a rat, gentlemen," he said as he shoved him up the aisle. He pulled the black cap off, exposing auburn hair.
"Kenza!" William shouted, shocked. He saw immediately that she was shaking.
"I didn't know you would take right off. I was trapped."
"Why... How did you get here?" William asked in bewilderment.
"Friend of yours?" Samuel asked.
"I'm sorry I followed you. I had to know if you were telling the truth, and warn you."
Gerald was surprised. "You managed to follow him undetected? Who do you work for?"
William turned to Gerald. "I probably wasn't careful enough." He turned back to Kenza. "Warn me of what?"
"A man came to the apartment last night. He was asking all kinds of questions about how long you had been in Morocco and whether you're still with the CIA, and what your plans are. He said he was with Interpol, and he might come back and ask more questions about you."
"Interpol my ass," William said in disgust. "What did this man look
"He was barrel chested. About your height. Fat, round face. Black hair. Said his name was Andrei Fidorsky."
William knew immediately who it was. "Andrei Stavlavsky, KGB man in the area. They're keeping tabs on me."
"What does that mean to us?" Samuel asked.
"It means the KGB is likely to follow us right from the beginning, giving them more time to interfere. We'll have to make sure we're not followed or bugged. Beyond that, it also means we'll have a problem figuring out what to do with Kenza. The deeper she gets into this, the more likely the KGB or their cronies will try to tap her for information."
Gerald grasped William's arm. "Speaking of the KGB and Kenza, how long have you known her?"
"She's an old friend." William resented the question.
Gerald wasn't satisfied. "Where did you meet her?"
"At a cafe in Kenitra. She's an old flame from sixteen years back."
"How much do you know about her during the last sixteen years?"
William was struck for a moment. When he had returned to Morocco in Naval Intelligence, the first thing they had said to him was it was so typical for the KGB to get some young girl to warm up to a crypto officer, then drop him when he was no longer useful. They wondered how she was getting the money for schooling in England, and had followed her for a while. He looked at Kenza suspiciously.
Gerald continued, "It sounds a little too pat to me. Meet an old flame, fall in love, she manages to follow you and with some wild story about KGB operatives and Interpol, ends up needing your protection, and so gets involved in your mission. It's the classic description of a KGB plant: find an
operatives most vulnerable points and exploit them."
Kenza appeared frightened by their callous talk, but she fumed at Gerald's suggestion that she was really a KGB plant. Looking furiously at Gerald, she yelled, "I'm as much an agent as you are Prince Charles. You just watch what you're saying. All I'm guilty of is coming to warn William. Isn't that important?"
Everyone ignored her outburst, which only infuriated her more.
"Shall we drop her in the ocean?" Gerald asked carelessly, as he might dispose of a rat.
Samuel sighed. "Looks like you have your first official problem, William."
William pulled himself together. "When we get to Munich, let's start a security check on her. Samuel, can you get British Intelligence to check for us in England?"
Kenza began to splutter. She looked at William bitterly. "Security check! You don't trust me either, do you? Well you can just forget the passport, I'm going home as soon as we land."
"Stay calm," William said firmly. "Everyone from the office secretaries to the Director has to have a security check, and you're no exception."
She seemed to accept that.
"What about the Brits?" William asked Samuel.
"They can probably have a preliminary check done for you by tonight."
"Well, that means delays." He sighed. "Every detail has to be cleaned up or we leave ourselves open." He turned to Kenza. "How did you get to Sidi Slimane? Did anyone drive you? Anyone know where you are?"
Kenza shook her head. "I drove there myself in my Father's auto. He doesn't know I left."
"As soon as we get to Munich, I'll call and have someone pick up the car and return it before it is spotted. You call your Father and tell him... well tell him you're with me in Tangier again, and I'm having a friend return the car. Tell him... tell him you don't yet know when you'll be back."
"But what about my mother...? She's very ill!"
Gerald struck the back of a seat cushion. "You telling me she's going to stay with us for a while? We're stuck with her? Damn women screw up everything."
William looked at Gerald patiently. "Assume for a moment her story is valid. She did us a big favor and we owe her. I want her to travel with us for a while, until they get a thorough check done."
Gerald looked disgusted.
William thought of Kenza being held and interrogated at a military base. He turned to Samuel. "I have a personal interest in this and I'm taking full charge until its sealed and delivered. I'm not going to leave her to someone else to deal with."
"I understand." Samuel replied. "We'll talk later."
"What about a passport for travel?" Samuel asked. "Can you have the man who delivers the car to Louis pick up Kenza's passport and put it on the next flight so she can travel without any problems?"
"No, the guy may be followed from Louis' place, plus that would tell Louis you're out of the country. Do you have a driver's license with you?"
Kenza looked down at the small clutch in her hand, and held it up.
They all stared at it for a moment, and then William began to smile. "Even on a spy mission, you couldn't go without your clutch. Women!" He laughed aloud and shook his head in amazement. The others began to chuckle. Kenza began to smile.
"We'll get you a visa in Germany." He turned to Samuel. "Can you get the Brits to reissue her passport?"
Samuel nodded. "Gentlemen, I'm getting very uncomfortable standing in the aisle of this small plane." His head was bent over uncomfortably because of the low ceiling. "Let's sit down." He patted William on the back. "I'm grateful I didn't witness any pretty ladies doing high dives from the rear exit."
William pulled Kenza into the seat next to him.
"Are you angry with me?" she asked him.
"It's beyond anger."
She turned away.
He acquiesced a little. "You did what you had to do. Now, I have to think for a while."
William began considering the situation. How much was the KGB involved in all of this? Without a doubt they kept tabs on him, and were probably dying to know why he had changed his activities but was still present in Morocco. They would certainly be trying to find out his new mission, and might interfere in it if they could. But was Kenza involved, too? Was she passing information to them? He remembered the bitter look she had given him when she thought he didn't trust her. Was that a revelation of her true feelings, or was she disguising her hoax? Gerald was right, this would be a perfect way for the KGB to infiltrate. He thought of his previous days with Kenza. Either she was an extremely good actress, or she was telling the truth. Damn intelligence work for making you suspicious of everyone, even close friends! For the rest of his life he would see a spook in every corner.
He looked at her sitting next to him. Shaken. Angry. Hurt. Wanting to be loved. Carrying a clutch. But, on the other hand, somehow able to follow
him to Sidi Slimane and get aboard the plane unnoticed.
"The tables are turned now," he said to her.
"What do you mean?"
"You're the one who didn't trust me, remember?"
"And now you don't trust me?" she asked, a pained expression on her face.
"I can't afford to take the risk. I will have to see the security report. You followed me and sneaked onto the plane, you know. Very suspicious activity in this business."
She nodded, reluctantly.
"How did you do that, anyway?
"I left my lights off and drove behind you."
"The roads between Kenitra and Sidi Slimane are a wilderness! I was off the road more than I was on! Thank God this isn't England, the land is flat with no ditches by the roads. I closed my eyes a lot and just prayed."
"Very clever... and brave, too. So, how did you get on the plane?"
She looked down. "Stupidity." She looked back at him. "I guess I should have just told you about Andrei, then everything would be fine. Well, I wanted to hear what people on the plane were saying, so I would know if you were a crook or whatever.
"So after everyone was on board, I crept onto the stairs so I could hear conversation. Then I heard someone coming behind me, so I panicked and went on inside, back into that baggage area to the right as you enter. How could I know it was the pilot coming?
"He closed the stairs immediately and started the plane. I didn't know what to do then - I was scared stiff - I thought you might kill me if I was found. Before I could think, we were off the ground."
"Checking out a no account man in your life, and you blundered into this."
Next: Chapter 9