other-side-of-deception-victor-ostrovsky

200 / VICTOR OSTROVSKl* * *We took our little trip to Washington on Friday, July 4, enteringthe United States on a very festive occasion. I planned to drive downon the weekend, making it to the Egyptian embassy first thing Mondaymorning. The drive went without a hitch. I'd told Bella that I wasto meet some diplomats from Zaire and arrange for my trip there. Atthe embassy, things went smoothly. After I handed my passport to thesecurity man at the door, my contact escorted me into a large roomfancily decorated in light blue. I was asked to wait under a goldframedportrait of the smiling President Hosni Mubarak. Several minuteslater, the attache came in and greeted me warmly. He was curiousas to whether I was superstitious at all. I assured him I was not.He said that my flight to Cairo was scheduled for July 13, which wasbut one week away. I felt a slight weakness in my knees, but I wasn'tgoing to let on that I had any problem with that.My tickets would be waiting for me at the Aer Lingus counter inKennedy Airport, but I would have to pay for them; they were goingto make the reservation only. He handed me an envelope with twothousand dollars in it. I was to come back on July 20, according tohim, and would be picked up at the airport and taken to a safe place.He promised me that I had nothing to worry about and that the matterof payment for my services would be discussed by the authoritieswhen I got there. He made it very clear that, because of his diplomaticstatus and the respect he had for the United States as its guest,he was not able to get involved in this matter beyond the liaisonstage."As long as your heart is pure when you deal with us," the mansaid with a smile, "you have absolutely nothing to worry about."That statement scared me more than any threat I'd ever received.It was a veiled threat if ever I heard one-or was it because I was thethief with his hat on fire that I took it that way?I was very preoccupied on my way back to Ottawa. I was feeling astrange sense of imminent doom. At last, I'd settled in a place where Ifelt comfortable and started a new life, and here I was leaving it allbehind and embarking on a journey back into the hell I'd so recentlyleft. But I knew that this new life was only make-believe and that Iwas still a soldier on the most remote outpost of his country's border,a border so distant and murky that it was not clear which side of ityou were on. It was the kind of border you needed philosophy todefine, and I didn't like it at all.iII arrived in New York in the afternoon and picked up my ticket atthe counter, just as planned. I was to go aboard Egypt Air Flight 986,departure time 22:00, so I had some time to kill.I felt very uncomfortable about what I was going to do. Leavingthe safety of the United States was something my whole body rebelledagainst. I'd been exposed to far too many intelligence agencies in thepast few months to feel safe on such a trip. It seemed almost impossiblethat the Egyptians, who had a very efficient although somewhatcbscure intelligence agency, had not heard about at least one of myescapades.The flight took off on time, and I was trapped in it, headinginevitably for whatever awaited me. I couldn't sleep all the way, feelingguilty about not telling Bella where I was going. But it was more aselfish thought than one of concern: If I'd told Bella at least someonebesides Ephraim would know where I was.We flew into daylight above the sparkling blue Mediterranean.The pilot announced the beginning of our descent into Cairo International,and the stunning yellow landscape of Egypt took over from thecool blue sea. The closer we got, the more hazy the scenery became.By the time we landed, you didn't have to be outside to know how hotit was.The naked lightbulb dangling from the moldy ceiling flickeredmomentarily, ending my recollection of the past six months. I heard afaint scream somewhere in the bowels of what I had thought to be anempty building. The barely audible shrieks instantly drenched me incold sweat. I lay on my back, my eyes following a large brown cockroachmaking its way across the ceiling of my cell.Then the old man was back with a fresh pitcher of lemonade anda food tray. Lying there, driven to exasperation by the metronomicquality of my existence, fearing that the old man would appear likethis at the appointed time for the next thousand days, I realized I hadKO do something to get someone's attention. When the codger wasattending to the shower, I tossed the loaded food tray out the door,barely missing the guard. For an instant, I was sure he was going touse his weapon and cut me down where I stood. Instead, he lookedsurprised and shouted something to the old man, who hurried out of