The Aisha Prophecy by MAXIM JOHN R

The Aisha Prophecy by MAXIM JOHN R

Author:MAXIM, JOHN R. [MAXIM, JOHN R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781440155338
Publisher: iUniverse
Published: 2009-11-20T07:00:00+00:00


TWENTY THREE

Yitzhak Netanya, the head of Mossad, had a closet-full of loud Hawaiian shirts. He seldom wore them in public. He’d stand out too much. In Jerusalem, where he lived and worked, the norm was plain white shirts with open collars.

Even so, Netanya prized his collection because all of the shirts had come as gifts. They were all the same brand. The labels said Big Kahuna. This was actually something of an inside joke because although his title was Director of Mossad, his unofficial title was The Big Memuneh. That word was Hebrew for “the one in charge” and Kahuna in Hawaiian meant much the same thing. The two even rhyme. Hence the joke.

Netanya also liked to relax at the beach, dozing off to the sound of the surf. For this reason, he was always deeply tanned. All this taken together had made it inevitable that friends and family would start buying him these shirts. It became a competition. Who could find the loudest shirt?

It was easier now because of the internet. Type in “Big Kahuna” and there they were. Hundreds. There were several to choose from with semi-nude wahines, their modesty protected only by leis, and even a few with the face of Elvis Presley from when he made the movie, Blue Hawaii. Netanya wore them mostly in the privacy of his apartment. But never an Elvis and no semi-nudes. His wife and children would be less than merciful if they were to catch him in either.

On this day, a Wednesday, he was at home. It was his habit to take Wednesdays off because he often got no rest on the Sabbath. He would bring work home with him, but he’d seldom touch it. Wednesdays were for giving his brain a rest and puttering with things that were not so important. Or at least not a life and death crisis.

He had found himself reflecting on this part of his collection because one of the gaudier shirts he’d received a few years back was an Elvis and it came from Martin Kessler. This was typical of Kessler in more ways than one. It was also most welcome in more ways than one because Kessler, back then, had been believed to be dead for at least the second time that he knew of. The card read, “You shouldn’t believe all you hear. Bad pennies always turn up.” The next time he was dead was of course in Angola, but Netanya knew better so he didn’t get a shirt.

One of the first and most voluptuous of his semi-nude shirts was equally surprising, considering its source. That one came with a card signed by Rajib Sadik. One would think that a Muslim would take a dim view of hard-bodied beach blossoms strutting their stuff, but in those days he wasn’t high up in Hamas. Back then, he wasn’t even Sadik.

Netanya was reflecting on both of these shirts because of a message that blinked on his machine before he’d even got out of his pajamas.



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