The Fifteenth Representative by Hilla Dagan (fiction novels to read .TXT) 📕

and stuffing your face, which will only bring on indigestion. Luckily, Coke is right on hand.

“What would you need a road like that in Israel for? If you’re bored and for some reason feel the need to make the drive from Eilat to Rosh Ha’Nikra forty times, you can do that on the same bloody road, can’t you?”

“You’re right, Sagi,” I conceded. “We’re about there, aren’t we, Byron, old pal?” I asked the friendly Australian in a humorous tone. I was completely serious, though. It was show time.

“Yup, get your documents or papers prepared.”

We slowed to a crawl when we came up to the building complex of the foreign affairs office. The place looked like it was made out of Lego or Playmobile. The place was even surrounded by trees—just like with Playmobile.

“Look at those cute koalas on the trees,” Sagi said to me.

“We got the short stick with the stray cats everywhere,” I replied as I got all my papers out.

“Hello.”

“Hello and good morning,” Sagi said to the Australian guard. I was willing to bet the guard was usually posted in other places other than the entrance—as in, more important places. He was green, I could figure that out easily enough. And he was so tan. They had to have a tanning spot where they went during their lunch break. With freshly squeezed juice. Seriously—how could he possibly be so tanned in the middle of February? It was freezing back in Israel. Well, that’s better than the alternative. You can always wear another layer of clothes; it’s rather impossible to skin yourself when its sweltering outside. That’s inaccurate, but it doesn’t matter.

We parked and were directed to where we needed to go.

“Byron, stay put until I’m done. Here’s one thousand bucks, so when I say stay put, I mean it.”

“Got it, mate.” He pocketed the bills with a wide smile without even counting them.

“You should always count the money you get,” I told him.

“I trust you.” He winked back. “Besides, I’m still waiting for those extra five-hundred, and I’m not moving from here until I get them.” He chuckled again, the bastard.

We made our way toward the building. We were escorted down the longest hallway I’d ever walked by two other men. Why were there hundreds of meters only dedicated to a stretch of hallway? They should have built the buildings separately then added a path in the middle—at least that seemed to me the smarter option.

I had to see her already.

Finally, we both stood—Sagi and I—in front of a windowless gray metal door.

“Wait here,” the security men said, and one walked away.

We waited. Silently.

I took a deep, slow breath in, as inconspicuously as I possibly could.

The love of my life was behind this door.

It didn’t take long. Some big-wig authority figure came to close up all the loose ends. You could see by the way he held himself and his fast walk that he really didn’t have the patience for this crap. He’d already received the orders to release Noa, and the rest was simply bureaucratic procedure. That worked wonderfully for me. Now all I needed was for everything to go smoothly.

“My friend from the Holy Land! Good morning,” he said and smiled the smile of someone who was forced to interact with the commoners. His back yard commoners. And this wasn’t the first time we’d played in his back yard and made a mess for all the other neighbors. Then the neighbors complain and ambassadors are returned home…. Long story short, it’s better to have a good neighbor than a distant brother. In this case, the neighbor was halfway across the world. Not the ideal location to ask for that cup of sugar you need in a pinch. Tiv Ta’am is closer than Canberra.

“Hello, sir,” Sagi said.

He was accustomed to cleaning up other peoples’ messes. So too was the Australian he was talking to.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” the man in charge said.

We walked in.

Noa was sitting at a table in an otherwise empty room, apart from the four chairs arranged in front of her.

She looked tired. She’d probably hardly slept these two days. Her interrogators most likely hadn’t either. Poor dudes. Wracking your brain for questions while looking right at her is no easy task, not even for Hercule Poirot.

We looked at each other wordlessly.

“Come sign these papers, please,” the man in charge said.

Sagi did as he was told.

And these, too.” He pulled out another stack of paperwork.

I stood and leveled my gaze at Noa, who instantly averted her eyes so she was looking at the floor. She was so incredible.

“All right. Show’s over,” big-wig said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I must run. I’ve got a full schedule today. This is not the only lady I must attend to this morning—no offence, I hope.”

“None taken,” Sagi replied and finished the last signature with a flourish.

The three of us left the room and started the trek back along the hallway. This time on our way out. Finally, we stood in the massive parking lot.

“How do you feel, Miss Weisberg?” Sagi asked while examining her from head to toe, eliminating the assumption I’d made about him during our drive over.

“I’ve had better days,” Noa replied. “But they seem to be improving.” She stepped on my foot—hard—without Sagi noticing. She was such a nutter.

“Well, if you’d excuse me, I have to go and report to the ambassador how the ceremony I didn’t attend was,” Sagi said and started to move a little faster.

“If we must…” Noa gave a look of someone hoping for nothing but sleep.

Sagi understood and took it well. This wasn’t the first time he’d bailed people out of issues such as these. Twenty-four hours of continual interrogation doesn’t make the best timing for spontaneous meet-cutes.

“Right, well, until next time.” He made his goodbyes and shook my hand.

“There won’t be a next time,” I said and shook his hand tightly.

Two Israelis at the other end of the world. How wonderful. We were practically neighbors.

When