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stairs, of someone going up them. I knew it was the third stair from the top and I didn’t have much time. I held my gun under the pillow and rolled quietly off the bed. I managed to avoid the spot which creaked in my room, then rolled under the bed. I wanted to know which door they were going to stop at. If it was Laura’s, I would have to take in account three more steps, but then the assailant would have his back to me when I opened the door. If it was my door, then I’d hear the door opening in a moment. Of course, they might not stop at any door, because there was always a chance that it was one of the household coming up to use the toilet.

Whoever it was, stopped by my door. The door opened quietly and skillfully. In the doorway, I could see black tactical training shoes and leopard pants tucked into them. I expected to hear a popping sound, the sound of a bullet going through a silencer, but that didn’t happen. Instead I saw a pair of hands untie the shoelaces and take them off.

“I’m excited the way I used to be before a competition, and I want you…” I recognized Zorro’s deep voice and, carefully, I peeked from under the bed. She didn’t have a gun. On the contrary, her hands were busy taking off her clothes. I thought it was a pity, because I loved taking women’s clothes off them.

“We really have to eliminate this tension,” I said and rolled over to her. I was already naked.

I caught her arms and put them behind her. Her breasts were tight against my chest and I could feel her nipples harden. With one hand I kept her arms bound behind her and with the other, I stroked her passionately on her neck, on her shoulders and on her stomach. From there my hand touched her buttocks. With the help of my knee, I spread her legs, and my hand searched between them. The fire was mutual. Hot fire, one of passion, not of one who has a knife stashed away somewhere. Once I made sure she wasn’t armed, I unbuttoned her pants. Now I relaxed enough to lay her fully down on my bed and to pleasure her perfect body.

An hour later, while she was still lying in my arms, she asked: “How much do you trust her?”

“Who, Laura?”

“The Puritan queen. Yes, Laura.”

“Do I have a reason not to trust her?” I replied, questioningly.

“Did you ask yourself why she is here? Why didn’t they send in a team for this mission, or a commando unit of some sort, or to get the Anti-Drug Authorities to send their men to kidnap El Desconocido? Why Laura, of all people?”

This question had surfaced in my thoughts when we got the plane, but I didn’t mention it. Instead I asked, “And do you think you have the answer to this question?”

“Not really. But I, as opposed to you, don’t trust her. There is definitely something behind her insistence in going there herself. Maybe someone… whose goal is different from the one you told me about. I am sure of it. I think you are merely bait, and there is an elimination team on your tracks that you know or don’t know about.”

“We explained to you already,” I reminded her, “We are going on an almost private mission for --”

“To save your nephew. Yes. Yes, I remember. But a mission that needs to equip itself, without drones, without aerial photos, without all the advantages her status has to give us? Something doesn’t smell right.”

“Would you have gone on this mission if you had known that the Anti-Drug Authority was behind this and had supplied all the equipment?”

Zorro thought for a moment and smiled. “No. In that case I wouldn’t have had the motivation to help.”

“What is motivating you to help?”

“Besides the fact that I owe Gideoni my life? Because I like El Desconocido. I like him enough to meet him once again and to warn him that he ought to cooperate.”

“Like?”

She smiled and blushed, as if caught in a big lie. “Okay… Maybe more than just like. He was the one.”

“The one as in the love of your life or as in the best sex you ever had?

“I just had good sex now,” she smiled. “With him it was sex with love, Slow sex, one of intimacy and smiles. To look deep down in each other’s eyes and to flutter kisses in unusual spots. We were always touching one another. Even when we weren’t in bed. Have you ever had something like that?”

“I did,” I answered shortly. Hadas, my pregnant wife, her smile always appearing in front of my eyes and, as always, after that, her bleeding body on the pavement on that street in Jerusalem, where the bus had just exploded. And my mind, which refused to accept her death, stubbornly continued to focus on the details… the color of the metal embedded in her neck, which was the same color of the iron fence behind her; the wind which gave life to her hair her chiffon blouse with black dots, speckled with red as well… Anything to not have to focus on our togetherness, which was forever changed. She would no longer be waiting for me after one of my missions. Some days it felt impossible to not give into the longing and lose my mind.

“I don’t know what you call it, but I felt it when we were there. We made love. How do I know? Because that is how it is when you want to close your eyes out of passion but also to keep them open, so as to not miss the sight before you.”

The feeling that one of them was leading us into a trap and the warning my boss gave me was suddenly reinforced as the sweat of lovers and sticky hearts. “Do you have a child

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