Chapter 4
Samuel Meshullam was a man of means. He lived comfortably, had money to spare although no one had ever heard him talk about his job—if he held one, no one knew. He lived in a house at the edge of the ocean and abutting a ‘reserve’ or park in Manly, a suburb of Sydney, Australia. His dark hair and sharp facial features, partially hidden under a shadowy beard, told of the man’s strength of character. His eyes darted at the smallest noise. He seemed to be on the alert all the time. His neighbours tried to befriend him when he first moved to the area, but he soon distanced himself from everyone. By all accounts, the man didn’t like company. He often walked across the park, crossed the little bridge and made his way to a secluded beach bordering yet another reserve. He was used to walking long distances and preferred travelling on foot to using any mode of transport, even though he owned a sports’ car, which he used mostly to travel to Melbourne or other towns north or south of the city.
Although no one had ever seen him go to work, Samuel had an occupation, which paid him very well. He was a consultant, a man that you hired when you needed a job done and done well. His kind of consulting was not in high demand, but one contract could see him living in the lap of luxury for years, if that’s what it took until the next job came about. Besides, Samuel had no parents or family to encumber his life with questions or queries as to his means of living or even lifestyle. Perhaps the only characteristic that could distinguish Samuel from many other fellows was that he had been trained and was now in Mossad’s employ, the Israeli equivalent of the American CIA.
The reason he was currently living in Sydney or in Australia for that matter, apart from the fact that he had been born and raised in Melbourne was that he was now in hiding and would remain so until ‘further orders’.
His last job had seen him shooting a woman in Vancouver. He was already back in Sydney when he learned that his target nearly died from his bullet, which was exactly what had been required of him. He had been assigned to “slow the woman down” but not to kill her. Like him, Talya Kartz was Jewish, and killing a Jewess would not only have weighed heavily on his conscience but would have put him in God’s bad books—if there were such a thing.
Of course, the police and various intelligence agencies on two continents had been on his tail since the incident, which had occurred seven months ago, to no avail. Not only was Samuel a master of disguise but Mossad had always covered his tracks very well. As a result, he was now free to roam as he pleased in a country he loved.
The fall months Downunder were now upon the countryside and the trees turning all colours were pleasant to the sight, and the accompanying tranquillity of autumn seemed to appease Samuel’s keenness.
Sitting on a towel at the water’s edge, he thought of Talya. Truth being told he loved the woman. They had been friends once. She had a head of white-blond, curly hair, deep blue eyes and a smile that had shaken him to the core. Her lightly tanned face was a mask of perfection. Yes, he had really enjoyed looking at her or being with her again when they travelled together for a couple of hours in the States. From the time she lived in Australia, he remembered her spunk, her kindness and her determination. That last trait of character had landed her in a wheelchair now, he was sure, and for that, Samuel was sorry, deeply repentant in fact. He had never allowed the emotions that his job would arose in him to deter him from accomplishing his various assignments or to cloud his judgment. Yet, on this occasion, Talya’s beauty and inner strength had touched him in ways he could not even comprehend.
He looked at the waves rolling gently onto the beach for a few more minutes before getting up, making his way into the water and diving into the ocean. He swam to a rocky ledge nearby and heaved himself onto it. Knowing her as he did, he recalled Talya loved to swim, and he would have enjoyed having her at his side at that very moment. Would he see her again? He didn’t think that would ever happen.