“I’ve never chugged anything like that. I’ll probably choke.”
“No, you won’t. Just gulp gulp gulp. Don’t stop to breathe. Do it fast.”
She took hold of the drink and smelled it.
“Don’t smell it, drink it!” Noel ordered, playfully poking her arm.
“It’s good, Sarah,” Rivka said, smiling. “Really.”
Sarah shrugged and put the glass to her lips. Then she started to drink. And drink.
“Go, go, go, go, go!”
When she was done, she slammed the glass on the table.
“Yeah!” the others cried.
Sarah felt proud of herself. She wiped her mouth and said, “Yum!” Eli beamed at her and then leaned over to kiss her. It was a mushy open-mouthed one.
“Whoa, Sarah!” Rivka cried. She laughed. Noel laughed. Eli and Sarah broke apart and laughed as well.
That was when Sarah realized the room was spinning more than it was five minutes earlier. She felt light- headed and woozy.
“I’m getting drunk,” she said, but it didn’t sound like those particular words to her. She laughed again. Rivka burst out laughing, too, and reached for her friend. The two girls leaned on each other, laughing so hard that tears fell from their eyes. Eli sat with his arms folded across his chest, watching them and keeping an eye on his watch.
He poured another glass of wine for the girls but left his and Noel’s glasses empty.
“Tell us about your uncle Martin, Noel,” Eli suggested.
Noel raised his eyebrows and said, “Oh. Okay. That’s a good story.” The girls smiled and looked at him, ready for more hilarity. “I have this uncle, his name is Uncle Martin, and he used to live in the basement of a tenement building. His hobby, if you can believe this, was collecting mice feces. I kid you not. You know what he did with the feces?”
“What, Noel?” Eli asked.
The girls were beginning to lose it. Their mouths hung open and their eyes drooped, but they hung on to every word Noel was saying.
“He liked to use the feces to make art. He would mix the stuff with water and use a paintbrush to paint. And you know what he would paint?”
“What would he paint, Noel?” Eli asked.
“Mice!”
He continued the nonsensical story for several minutes. Sarah tried to concentrate on it, but the words kept fading in and out. It was as if she were in a waking dream.
The words droned on. Eventually she couldn’t understand them anymore. She had to close her eyes, just for a minute.
Noel stopped talking.
Rivka was out. Her head was on Sarah’s shoulder. Sarah’s eyelids fluttered and finally fell. She began to slide over in the booth, but Eli caught her and held her up.
“Wow, that was fast,” Noel said.
“Always is,” Eli agreed.
“I’m glad you gave them the correct glasses.”
“Come on. Let’s get them out of here.” He pulled Sarah out of the booth and let her lean on him.
“What’s going on?” she slurred.
“Sarah, I’m taking you home. You’re drunk,” Eli said.
“I am?”
Noel helped Rivka up. She whimpered a little. “Rivka, come with me. We have to go home now,” he said. Rivka started to cry a little.
“My stomach hurts,” she mumbled.
“Let’s go,” Noel said.
Eli left money on the bar as they helped the girls out. He winked at the bartender and said, “I guess those Car Bombs were a little too strong.”
When the night air hit Sarah’s face, she became aware that she was outside. “What’s going on?” she asked again, but her voice sounded far away.
“I’m taking you back to my place.” She thought it was Eli’s voice. The nice man was helping her walk, though. She shouldn’t have drunk so much. She knew that drinking didn’t agree with her. Now she felt awful. She just wanted to climb into bed.
The last thing she remembered before passing out was a car door slamming as she fell into the passenger seat.
Eli drove his beat-up 1995 Chevrolet Cavalier out of the New City and headed north, toward Atarot Airport. Sarah was snoring lightly in the seat beside him. Before he had left the street where the bar was located, he watched Noel get Rivka into his car and drive away.
Eli was happy that he didn’t have to do what Noel had to do.
The Rohypnol worked amazingly well. He had broken up the two white tablets, one in each shot glass, and waited until the powder dissolved before bringing the Irish Car Bombs back to the table. Sarah and Rivka never knew what hit them. Car bombs, indeed.
It was approaching midnight when he turned off the main highway and took a little-used route toward an industrial area of the city. Eli could hear planes overhead, flying in low for a landing at the small airport. When he had first gone to the warehouse to prepare it for Sarah’s arrival, he wasn’t happy about its location. He would have preferred it to be farther out of Jerusalem and not so close to the airport. But orders were orders. Apparently Yuri and Vlad’s people already owned the building. Eli supposed it didn’t really matter. As long as he was paid what was coming to him.
It was at the end of a curving road full of derelict warehouses and condemned office buildings. Vlad had said it was “where Jesus lost his sandals.” This wasn’t far from the truth. Aside from the proximity to the airport, the warehouse seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. The building was dark and would have appeared deserted were it not for the two sports cars parked in front. The Ferrari and the Jaguar were a little too conspicuous for Eli’s comfort level, but what was he going to tell those guys? Get a couple of ugly old cars like his?
He pulled the Chevy next to the Jaguar and shut off the motor. He looked at his sleeping passenger and softly said, “Sorry, Sarah.”
Eli got out of the car and went to the front door of the building. He knocked and waited until the little window slid opened. Dark eyes peered out.
“You going to help me or not?” Eli asked.
The door unlocked and opened and the two Russians came out.
“She okay?” the one called Yuri asked.
“Yeah. She’s out cold, though,” Eli said.
“Let’s get her inside, then,” the one called Vlad said.
They walked to the car and opened the passenger door. When he saw Sarah, Vlad remarked, “Hey, she’s a beauty! This is going to be a more interesting assignment than I thought.”
“Shut up, you horny bastard,” Yuri said. “Help me.”
The two men pulled her out of the car and carried her to the building.
“Don’t drop her,” Eli said. “Be careful.”
“Don’t worry, kid,” Yuri said. “She’s worth gold.”
Eli followed them inside and shut the door behind him. The warehouse was clear in the middle, but the sides were full of old and broken kitchen and bathroom appliances. A loft, supported by two concrete columns, jutted out halfway over the ground floor, serving as half of a second floor. It, too, was covered in junk. The men carried Sarah across the floor of the dusty warehouse, through a door on the west wall, and into a moldy-smelling corridor lined with three offices. They went into the third office, which was empty except for a cot, a small table, and a chair. The cot was made up with blankets and a pillow. Adjoining the room was a bathroom containing a toilet, a sink, and a
