Origins
OUTLINE
The body of a Russian Archaeologist is found floating in the Caspian Sea.
<< PREVIOUS EPISODE-NEXT EPISODE >>
VOLGA DELTA, ASTRAKHAN OBLAST, RUSSIA
A fishing boat sails up the Volga Delta at dawn when the crew notices a body floating in the water. A fisherman pulls the body towards the boat with a pole and flips it face up. The body is bloated an disfigured. The Captain kneels down and extends his hand to reach the body's jacket.
-Closer. Hold it there... Shit...
The Captain lets go of the body and catches his breath.
-I can't take the smell. Okay, bring it closer.
The fisherman squeezes the body against the boat.
-Why don't we just tow it to the port.
The Captain holds his breath and reaches the inside pocket of the body's jacket. He pulls a zippered wallet and opens it.
-VASILY DMITRIEV...
He sorts through number of other ID cards and pulls several thousand ruble notes.
-Let it go.
The fisherman looks at the Captain in disbelief.
-What do you mean? We can't leave it here to rot.
-We have a nearly one ton sturgeon carrying at least ten kilos of eggs aboard. You wanna trade for this dead man and go to jail. Let him go, there's nothing we can do for him.
RECTOR'S OFFICE, ASTRAKHAN STATE UNIVERSITY
The Rector is in a meeting with the Dean of the Department of Archeology and two other professors.
-I'm getting pressures from the Atomenergoprom's people to pull all our stuff from the site so that they could start digging next week.
A professor intervenes.
-It's not even been a month. We have to give him a chance. He could be abroad. Who knows what he found.
-You know that these searches were not authorized to starts with, claims the Dean.
-What do you mean not authorized! It only involves Vasily and five of his graduate students. It's not as if they were draining the University's budget, replies the other professor.
-Seven days. That's all I can do. Figure it out by then, saids the Rector before standing up, signaling the end of the meeting.
STRAIT OF KERCH, RUSSIA/UKRAINE BORDER
The Scarlet Queen, a 78-foot ketch harboring a Panamanian flag sails out of Taman, Russia with three new hands on deck.
Robert, a part-time American filmmaker is at the helm of the sail-ship as he watches "Rachel", 27, desperately trying to attach a running rigging.
-Sure you've done this before...
-Not on this kind of boat...
-What kind of boat? A paddle boat?
Rachel turns towards Robert with a smile...
-As soon as the boys wake up, they'll make it up to you for my inexperience. Sorry, but we've had a long journey. We didn't expect to leave so early.
-Gotta sail when the wind is right!
-At least the wind seems to push us in the right direction... You think we'll make it to Istanbul in how many days.
-500 nautical miles... Three to five days depending on winds and watches...
-Who's watch?
-I mean crews staying awake when others sleep...
-Like us, saids Rachel with a flirty laugh.
-Like us, replies Robert returning the smile.
A moment passes as they sail through the Strait of Kerch. Rachel, looks a the Crimean peninsula.
-When are we going to be in Ukrainian territory.
-It's kinda murky around here. Don't know if they agreed on anything at sea yet. The Ruskies consider everything north of Turkey as theirs anyways... You've seen The Potemkin?
-No, what is it?
-An old Soviet film... A classic... Takes place in Odessa.
-Not big on old films. I prefer reading.
-You're not a video-game girl?
-No, the boys are though.
A sudden gush of wind engulfs the main sail. Robert looks at the sky as the ship leans sharply to its side.
-Unties those ropes, shouts Robert at Rachel.
-Which ones.
-The white ones!
Rachel slacks the running rigging as the ship stabilizes.
-Right on mate.
-Told you!
-At that speed, we'll be crossing the Bosporus in 2 days...
-That'd be cool.
...
...
CABIN OF THE SCARLET QUEEN, 50 NAUTICAL MILES SOUTH OF YALTA, BLACK SEA
The two other hands, Joey and Etan, are on deck as the Scarlet Queen smoothly sails through the Black Sea starry night. Inside the cabin, Robert looks at Rachel through the kitchen/bathroom mirror as he brushes his teeth.
-What are you reading?
-Letters to Milena. It's a collection of letters from Kafka to his mistress.
-And?
-The man was crazy. Would have driven me nuts. What's fascinating is that her reply letters were lost. So it's like a one voice love monologue... Which evolves...
The sound of waves hitting the hull is loud and constant. Robert rinses his mouth and removes his shirt as Rachel continues reading.
-Sorry about the proximity...
-It's okay, I've seen a man's chest before.
-You were right, those guys are pros.
-Told you.
-How are you guys all connected?
-We're not. Well, I'm not. I just hooked up with them. I was an exchange student at a university near Volgograd and I hooked up with them on my way back.
-Well they're pretty smooth sailors...
A loud roaring sound is suddenly heard from the deck as a beam of light illuminates the cabin. A Russian voice announces through a loudspeaker.
-ATTENTION. THIS IS THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION NAVY ENFORCING BLACK SEA NAVAL FORCE AGREEMENTS. WE ORDER YOU TO STABILIZE YOUR SHIP AND FOLD YOUR SAILS IMMEDIATELY. ATTENTION...
Robert stand back up wears his shirt in a hurry.
-What the fuck.
Rachel garbs him.
-Stop... Let them handle it...
DECK OF THE SCARLET QUEEN, 50 NAUTICAL MILES SOUTH OF YALTA, BLACK SEA
Four Russian Naval Spetsnaz are rappelled down from a helicopter on the deck of the Scarlet Queen. At the same moment, a Russian Navy speed boat storms from behind and throw a grappling hook to the tail of the sail-boat.
Joey, who's at the bow shouts in Hebrew.
-Shit... !
Etan who's at the stern is pinned down by members of the Spetsnaz commando.
CABIN OF THE SCARLET QUEEN, 50 NAUTICAL MILES SOUTH OF YALTA, BLACK SEA
Rachel still holds Robert as two Spetsnaz storm in the cabin pointing machine guns at them and shouting orders in Russian. She whispers to Robert's hear.
-Tell them I'm your girlfriend...
Robert looks perplex as they are separated and handcuffed with tie-wraps.
One of the Spetsnaz, who looks in charge enters and addresses them in English as the two others secure the cabin.
-Robert Ferguson?
-Yes that's me, answers Robert. What's going on?
-Lieutenant, Grigory Antonov, Military-Maritime Fleet of the Russian Federation. I'm calling a search of your ship under The Black Sea Naval Force command.
Grigory orders his men to release Robert as he addresses Rachel.
-What's your name and nationality?
-Rachel Bowie. American.
-I need both your passports, orders Leonid as he signals his men to also untie Rachel.
Rachel and Robert both look into their bags for their passports and hand them to Grigory.
-What were you doing in Taman? Asks Grigory.
Rachel replies before Robert could find an answer.
-We're touring the Mediterranean, the Back Sea and the Azov Sea before heading out the Indian Ocean.
-How do you know the two others...
-I placed an ad on-line looking for hands as I do every-time I need help.
Grigory addresses Rachel.
-You speak Russian.
-No, very little.
-Wait here.
Grigory climbs back on deck as his men stay behind with Rachel and Robert.
Robert looks at the two remaining commandos then at Rachel.
-Can you tell me what's going on?
-I guess it's about the guys.
Robert stares at Rachel not wanting to confront her further in front of the two Russians.
Leonid walks back into the cabin.
-Which ones are their bags.
Rachel points at two small backpacks in the corner near the berth where she was lying earlier.
-That's it? Asks Grigory.
-Yes. What's going on? Asks Robert.
Grigory order his men to grab the bags.
-Nothing... Just follow you're route and stay out of trouble.
The three men exit the cabin.
DECK OF THE SCARLET QUEEN, 50 NAUTICAL MILES SOUTH OF YALTA, BLACK SEA
Robert and Rachel climb back on the deserted deck as they hear the roaring sound of a helicopter flying away into the night. The ship's untied sails flap into the wind.
SAMOSDELKA EXCAVATION SITE, ASTRAKHAN OBLAST
Yama Zrodlo, a foreign graduate students is being helped by her boyfriend to gather tools and objects from the excavation site. The boyfriend looks towards the banks of the Volga.
-Why the fuck would they want to build a nuclear plant here, in the middle of nowhere! Doesn't make sense.
-Don't know, replies Yama, He never mentioned anything about this.
-That's weird. Was he from Moscow?.
-Yes, that's what he saids. Though I don't know if he was in contact with anyone else apart us.
-Did you look in his office.
-No.
-You have access?
-Yes, she saids, hesitantly.
-Well...
DECK OF THE SCARLET QUEEN, SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BLACK SEA
Robert is navigating the ship alone as Rachel is cooking in the cabin. She climbs up to the deck carrying two plates with eggs and toasts.
-Here you go Captain!
Robert looks at her inquisitively as he accepts a plate.
She sits next to him.
-Quiet eh!
-Yes. Quieter than last night.
-Sorry for bringing these guys with me...
-Wasn't it the other way around?
-What do you mean.
-Well that they brought you along.... Initially, I was in contact Etan and he mentioned it was going to be him and his "brother". Then you came along...
-Okay, you're right... Still I'm sorry.
-Anything else you want to say.
-No... Except that it's a beautiful day and that I enjoy the ride, and you...
-Yes thanks I enjoy it very much.
-No. I meant, I enjoy you...
Rachel approaches Robert and kisses him. He keeps one hand on the steering and holds her with the other.
PROFESSOR VASILY DMITRIEV'S OFFICE, ASTRAKHAN SATE UNIVERSITY
Yama and her boyfriend enter the professor's office to find piles of articles, books, and ancient Khazarian artifacts. She searches for documents on the professor's desk.
-He was supposed to have signed my visa extension request. Check if you find it while you're at it. It expires in a few days.
Yama's boyfriend grabs a stone on which a Star of David if engraved.
-He was Jewish.
-No, not that I know... We found this at the site, like two years ago?
The boyfriend looks at Yama...
CAPE CHERSONES AIRFIELD, SEVASTOPOL CITY
Najwa and Evgeniy turn their car around as they reach the end of the runaway and stop the engine. Evgeniy pops a cigarette out of his pack and offers one to Najwa who answers in Russian.
-No thanks.
-Sorry... I didn't know...
-It doesn't bother me. I just don't smoke.
Evgeniy hesitates, then looks at Najwa.
-Are you allowed to smoke?
-What do you mean?
-I mean, because of this, pointing to her hijab.
-Of course. It's got nothing to do with it. I just never started.
Najwa's phone beeps. She checks the SMS.
-10NM S
She shows the phone to Evgeny who turn on the head beams.
-10 Nautical Miles South. They should be here in 2 minutes.
Najwa smiles anxiously and steps out of the car leaving the door open. A light breeze from the sea blows her hijab to the side as she holds it in place. Evgeniy starts flashing the car's head beams.
COCKPIT, PRIVATE JET, OVER THE BLACK SEA
Alexander points to the flashing lights as the pilot watches a night vision monitor displaying the landing strip ahead.
-You want to go over once?
-No...Too many eyes on us in the area. It'll look suspicious. I'll drop you in the middle of the runaway and take off right away. No one will notice we even stopped.
The pilot stops talking to concentrate on his instruments as he lands the 4 seater plane in the pitch black night.
CAPE CHERSONES AIRFIELD, SEVASTOPOL CITY
Alexander unbuckles his belt, pads the pilot on the shoulder, grabs his backpack and exits through a side door behind the pilot.
-See you very soon.
The plane's engine roars back at full steam as Alexander shuts the door, remaining in the middle of the strip as the plane takes off again.
A few hundred meters further, Najwa bends as she hears the jet taking off right over her head. She starts walking towards the middle of the runaway. Evgeniy shuts the car's head beams leaving the airfield pitch black.
-Alexander... Alexander... Najwa utters as she continues walking in the dark.
She suddenly feels a hand gently grabbing her from the side.
-My little Matryoshka.
Alexander passes his hand under Najwa's hijab and starts kissing her passionately until Evgeniy stops the car besides them.
-Lieutenant!
Alexander peeps inside the car and discovers Evgeniy's face as he puffs on a cigarette.
-No, no... Captain, replies Evgeniy with a grin. Hop in.
Alexander opens the back door to let Najwa in then sits in front as the car disappears into the Crimean night.
ROOFTOP, ALEXANDER'S APARTMENT, LENIN RAION, SEVASTOPOL
Najwa slides the door open leading Alexander and Evgeniy to the rooftop overlooking the port. She undoes her hijab revealing her dark blond hair. Alexander turns to Evgeniy.
-Wow. Feels good to be home. Evgeniy... Thank you.
-The boat sails by, the shore remains...
-Indeed.
Najwa interjects.
-What can I serve you guys? I noticed we have vodka in the freezer.
Evgeniy smiles as Alexander continues.
-Najwa follows a particular branch of Islam. Seems to follow the sea currents. A naturalistic approach...
-Lovely wife Sasha.
-Thank you. We're not married... yet. What about you?
-Yes... Many years ago. Two daughters. 13 and 12.
-Wow. Trouble at sea, saids Najwa as she pours three shots on the rooftop table.
-Na Zdorovie.
-Na Zdorovie.
The two men raise their glasses to Najwa as Evgeniy continues.
-To women of the Earth.
Najwa smiles at both men.
-Wise words for seamen.
Alexander gently pulls Najwa by her waist.
-Evgeniy and I visited many foreign ports together.
-You're husband... I mean Sasha is very modest. If it wasn't for him. I wouldn't be here today.
-I had to pull him out of trouble when he was like nineteen... twenty max, continues Alexander with a grin.
-Eighteen...
-Luanda, Christmas 1989 replies Alexander as he pours another set of shots. Lets say that for an eighteen year old rusky boy straight out of his mommy's home, Angola was like Sodom and Gomorrah.
-To African woman! concludes Evgeniy before continuing on another subject... By the way, I have arranged for your pilot to stay at a hotel by Belbek Airport. Although the touch and go was quite effective, we still have some pretty paranoid comrades around. Better not to communicate with him during your stay. He's could be trailed.
-FSB? Asks Alexander.
-No, GRU. We're "abroad"! Sevastopol has become the Prague of the new era. Besides the Ukrainians and our boys, every agency on earth has a man in this city. Just last night they nailed two Israelis with forged Russian passports en route to Turkey on a sailboat. They tracked them via satellite as they were probably marking the site of a future nuclear plant near Astrakhan. We had to let them go so that Tel Aviv would hold on to some intel they had about our operatives in Kiev.
-New era but same old game, replies Alexander.
-A nuclear plant? asks Najwa.
-Well, Jews are like paranoid about nuclear plants.
-I'd be too. We had the Chernobyl cloud looming over our heads for weeks when I was kid in Budapest.
BEDROOM, ALEXANDER'S APARTMENT, LENIN RAION, SEVASTOPOL
Najwa lies in bed reading overhearing Alexander and Evgeniy getting drunk and talking about African women.
WORKS AT ASTRAKHAN NUCLEAR REACTOR DELAYED. Najwa reads an article on the online version of Pravda.
...VASILY DMITRIEV, A PROFESSOR AT THE ASTRAKHAN STATE UNIVERSITY HAS BEEN REPORTED MISSING BY HIS STUDENTS YESTERDAY. DMITRIEV FAILED TO REPORT FOR THE PAST TWO WEEKS AT AN EXCAVATION SITE WHERE HE HAD LEAD A GROUP OF ARCHAEOLOGISTS FOR NEARLY TEN YEARS... THE TWO GRADUATE STUDENTS INTERVIEWED WERE NOT AWARE OF ANY ABNORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES OR BEHAVIOR THAT COULD HAVE LEAD TO THEIR PROFESSOR'S DISAPPEARANCE. HE WAS KNOW TO BE QUIET AND DEVOTED TO HIS WORK... THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEAM CLAIMED THAT THEY HAD RECENTLY DISCOVERED THE REMAINS OF ATIL, THE ANCIENT CAPITAL OF THE KHAZAR KINGDOM, A TURKIC TRIBE WHICH IS BELIEVED TO HAVE ADOPTED JUDAISM IN THE TENTH CENTURY BEFORE DISAPPEARING FROM THE REGION... STATE OFFICIALS HAVE CONFIRMED THAT THE AREA HAS BEEN ACQUIRED BY THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT FOR THE PURPOSE OF BUILDING A NUCLEAR POWER PLANT.
She googles Khazars.
Alexander enters the room and walks towards Najwa still reading in bed.
-He left? ask Najwa, surprised.
-Yes, he saids goodbye. He didn't know if you were sleeping.
-Oh... Nice man... Did you know that an archaeologist has has just disappeared from that future nuclear plant site that your friend Evgneniy was mentioning!
-No... How do you know? What about it?
-Well, I was just procrastinating online, instead of writing, as usual... I was curious to know why the Israelis would be threatened a Russian nuclear plant. Proximity to Iran? Muslim uprising in Azerbaijan? Still, weird coincidence that this man who was definitely opposed to the project, disappeared right then and there.
-There is no such thing as a coincidence in this world, saids Alexander obviously drunk, there is only the inevitable. Why would the Jews be concerned by nuclear plants in Russia. No offense to your people my love, but if the people of Stalingrad stopped the German army, I don't think there going to let some Arabs invade them. Besides, there is the Caucasus.
-You always come up with military strategies, saids Najwa continuing to read.
-Well...
-Besides, there are no Arabs in that region...
-You know what I mean.
Alexander lies down to kiss Najwa.
-So what's this raising you glass to "African Women", asks Najwa as she pulls back to look at Alexander's eyes.
-Which African woman?
-Don't play dumb.
-My little Ishtar...
They make love.
ROOFTOP, ALEXANDER'S APARTMENT, LENIN RAION, SEVASTOPOL, MORNING
The rising sun illuminates the masts and antennas of docked Russian Navy cruisers across the bay. Najwa, who's online treads have lead her to Arthur Koesler's Thirteen's Tribe, continues reading on the rooftop deck. Alexander walks out with two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice and sits next to Najwa.
-Wow, thank you. How is your headache?
-Will be better after this, replies Alexander as he sips his juice.
-Did you know that the people living in that area converted to Judaism and that's what this archaeologist was working on.
-You're still on his case?
Alexander looks at the Russian Navy cruisers across the bay.
-Did you sail on one of these? asks Najwa.
-No... I served mostly on a destroyer. Bigger ship... In the Baltic.
-And ships from the Baltic don't sail in the Black Sea?
-No... Not the same fleet, answers Alexander painfully.
-Baby, you can't follow your Russian mates any-longer...
Alexander stretches his arms and stands to walk around the deck. Najwa continues her reading.
Moments later...
-Remember that man on the train to Venice?
-Yeah...
-He was from Mossad, no?
-Probably, why?
-You've heard from him since that trip.
-No...
-Didn't you tell me he was after this Swiss girl who was on your case.
-Carla Xanthis, yes. But I fixed that.
-Did you charmed her...
-No, never met her, answers Alexander bluntly.
-That's right, you prefer black girls!
-Wow, what's wrong with you this morning...
-Sorry I couldn't help but hear you guys bragging about your African adventures last night...
-Man I don't even remember. Evgneniy was a kid and I got him out of trouble from some brothel.
-Great!
Najwa continues reading her ipad as Alexander sits back looking better.
-Anyways, I was thinking about these Mossad guys roaming around the world, taking people out for reasons that are not clear to the rest of us.
-They brought this chess game to another dimension.
-But they don't even have a king, saids Najwa.
-Nor do they have a kingdom!
-Who does...
-Checkmate!
-Shāh Māt...
DEPARTMENT OF ARCHEOLOGY, ASTRAKHAN STATE UNIVERSITY
The university's internal mail delivery service delivers a thick envelope in the professor's slot.
The female graduate student picks it up...
A note is attached to his wallet...
I FOUND THIS ON A BODY FLOATING IN THE RIVER ABOUT 2 KM FROM THE SEA. COULDN'T CARRY IT BACK TO PORT. SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS.
CORINTHIA HOTEL, TRIPOLI, LYBIA
Alexander is watching RT News on his laptop. He stumbles upon a video report about Vasily Dmitriev.
TITLE: MISSING ARCHAEOLOGIST PRESUMED DEAD.
-THE WALLET BELONGING TO ASTRAKHAN STATE UNIVERSITY PROFESSOR VASILY DMITRIEV WAS MAILED TO HIS OFFICE BY AN ANONYMOUS SENDER ALONG WITH AN UNSIGNED NOTE CLAIMING THAT IT HAD BEEN FOUND ON A LIFELESS BODY FLOATING ON THE VOLGA EARLIER THIS MONTH... YAMA ZRODLO, A GRADUATE ARCHEOLOGY STUDENT WORKING WITH PROFESSOR DMITRIEV SAIDS SHE WAS ASTONISHED BY THE DRAMATIC UNFOLDING OF EVENTS AND THE MYSTERY SURROUNDING THE WHOLE AFFAIR... THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL SITE WHERE THE PROFESSOR AND HIS TEAM HAD BEEN DIGGING FOR NEARLY TEN YEARS IS PART OF A LOT WHICH HAS BEEN ACQUIRED BY THE RUSSIAN NUCLEAR AGENCY ATOMENERGOPROM FOR THE PURPOSE OF BUILDING A FUTURE POWER PLANT. NO COMMENTS WERE ISSUED BY THE UNIVERSITY OR ATOMENERGOPROM.
Alexander forwards the link to Najwa.
-THE PLOT THICKENS...
144th FLOOR APARTMENT, BURJ KHALIFA, DUBAI, UAE
Najwa views the linked video on her iPad then googles Yama Zrodlo, the student interviewed. She finds a Skype contact.
HEATHROW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
Yama accepts a Skype contact request as she's waiting for her flight at Heathrow. An IM pops up.
-HI... SORRY TO BOTHER YOU BUT ARE YOU YAMA ZRODLO THE ARCHEOLOGY STUDENT FROM RUSSIA?
Yama hesitates before replying.
-YES.
-MY NAME IS NAJWA AND I WAS CURIOUS TO LEARN MORE ABOUT PROFESSOR'S DMITRIEV'S DISAPPEARANCE... IS THIS A GOOD TIME TO CHAT?
-ACTUALLY, I'M WAITING FOR MY FLIGHT IN LONDON. MY STUDENT VISA EXPIRED BEFORE IT COULD BE RENEWED... WHERE ARE YOU FROM? DID YOU KNOW PROFESSOR DMITRIEV?
-NO. I LIVE IN THE MIDDLE-EAST AND HEARD ABOUT THE WHOLE STORY WHILE I WAS TRAVELING IN CRIMEA. THIS WHOLE STORY SEEMS BIZARRE.
-ARE YOU A JOURNALIST?
-NO. WRITER.
-OH.
-SORRY TO ASK BUT ARE YOU JEWISH?
-NO. FAMILY IS BAHA'I...
-OH...
-YOU KNOW ABOUT IT?
-MY MOTHER WAS IRANIAN SO I HEARD ABOUT IT.
-OH... AND YOU'RE OTHER HALF?
-CANADA. NEVER MET HIM...
-OMG, YOU'RE KIDDING...
-WHY.
-THAT'S WHERE I'M FROM...
-HMMMM...
-HOW OLD ARE YOU?
-NEARLY 30. U?
-26... WHAT KIND OF WRITER?
-FICTION.
-NEAT... SO YES, THE WHOLE STORY AROUND DMITRIEV'S DISAPPEARANCE IS WEIRD. I DIDN'T KNOW HIM THAT WELL THOUGH. I WAS COMPLETING MY MASTER'S AND HE WAS MY THESIS SUPERVISOR. RUSSIA IS A PRETTY REMOTE PLACE, AND ASTRAKHAN IS AT THE END OF IT. WELL I DON'T KNOW ABOUT IRAN THOUGH...
-DON'T KNOW EITHER... NEVER BEEN. GREW UP IN HUNGARY AND NOW LIVE IN DUBAI.
-DUBAI... YOU LIKE IT?
-NO. BORING. BUT AT LEAST WE TRAVEL A LOT.
-U MARRIED?
-NO BUT KIND OF THE SAME. MY BF IS IN FINANCE AND I FOLLOW HIM AROUND.
A voice announces the last boarding call for BA flight 94.
-MY FLIGHT IS ABOUT TO LEAVE. LET'S RESUME THIS TOMORROW OR SO...
-THANKS. I'D LOVE TO CONTINUE THIS.
-SAME HERE... BFN.
...
...
CAFE NEVE, MONTREAL, CANADA
Yama walks into the cafe and scouts the room looking for a 30 something woman amongst dozens of wifiers. She notices the stare of a woman wearing a scarf at the tip of her chignon and walks up to her.
-Najwa?
-Yes, Yama! responds Najwa as she stands up to greet her. Please sit... Would you like something? I think that they only serve at the counter.
Yama hangs her bag on the chair and follows Najwa who leads her to the counter.
-When did you get here? asks Yama.
-Last night. I'm meeting my boyfriend in Havana and I when I realized I could transit through Canada, I thought it'd be a great way to meet up. How have you been?
-Yes, what can I get you? asks the man behind the counter.
-Hmmm... Hesitates Yama.
-The coffee's great, claims Najwa.
-Ok. I'll have a latte then.
-Medium, large? asks the man behind the counter.
-Small. Please.
-I'll have the same, continues Najwa.
CAFE NEVE, MONTREAL, LATER
The two women have moved to a counter facing a window where they can speak privately. Najwa tries to get a grasp of how Dmitriev disappeared.
-And this girl, Rachel, she just popped out of nowhere to interview him?
-Yes. Well first she approached me I guess as she figured I was Canadian and all. She saids she was a journalist and was working on an article about Russia for a travel magazine. I thought she was some kind of blogger drifting around... We went out with friends from the University and she mingled in easily. The guy I was with thought she was odd though....
-You had a boyfriend there?
-Yeah... I met this Engineering student soon after I got there... Not my type at first but he was kinda cute and all.
-My boyfriend is Russian too, saids Najwa smiling.
-Anyways, so a couple of days later she asked me if she could accompany me on the the site, the excavation site. And that's where she completely changed and got into this full cat-woman mode and virtually hypnotized the man.
-How did he reacted?
-Well, he's kind of straight edged, you know. Like there's no way she would have found him attractive. And it's not like he's got money or power. He was just this plain Russian man.
-Was he married?
-Not that we knew. But I think he was from Moscow so he might have had family there. But we never saw or heard of anyone.
-How old was he?
-Like 50 something...
-And you never saw her again.
-No... She vanished the same day he did.
-She didn't leave her e-mail or cell number to anyone.
-No she claimed her SIM didn't work in Russia, which is possible. Otherwise she just hooked up with us at this hang out joint near the campus.
-Rachel what? Did she tell you her last name.
-Bowie! Rachel Bowie.
Yama is thoughtful then continues.
-It didn't occurred to me that she might have been involved then, but now that I think about it...
....
....
...
...
JOSE MARTI AIRPORT, HAVANA, CUBA
Alexander drops Najwa's hand luggage on the back seat of a 1965 Land Rover before opening her the passenger door. He kisses her as he gets behind the wheel.
-So? Did you find him?
Najwa looks at Alexander and poses for a few seconds.
-You've got some memory. Or you're spying on me.
-Both, answer Alexander as he kisses her again.
-No... I didn't...
STREETS OF MONTREAL, THE PREVIOUS DAY
Najwa and Yama walk out of the cafe where they spent the afternoon as night falls on a cold wintry evening. Yama zips up her jacket.
-You're not too cold, coming from Dubai?
-Yes, very cold... But I grew up in Hungary and traveled to northern places. So it's not like I've never seen snow. But I reckon this is the coldest I ever felt.
-Keep moving and after a while, you'll get used to it.
-I will thanks.
-Well, this is my bus stop. It was very nice to meet you. I guess we'll stay in touch.
-Yes definitely, I'd like that...
-Sherbrooke street is about five or six blocks this way, saids Yama pointing south.
-Cool, thanks again for meeting with me.
Yama smiles and kneels towards Najwa to kiss her goodbye.
BOULEVARD SAINT-LAURENT, MONTREAL
Najwa walks down Montreal's boulevard Saint-Laurent. Her sneakers crunching over the packed snow.
She notices boards posted on various buildings recounting the city's history. Some written in English but most in French. She reads the story of a Jewish couple who emigrated to Canada from Europe after the Second World War.
She thinks of Anne, her imaginary alter-ego, who could have well landed here instead of in Buenos Aires. She thinks of her father of whom she knows nothing, except that he was named Axel, that he spoke French and that he bore an A tattooed on his arm.
Najwa continues her stroll down Main, looking at snowflakes falling in front of street lights. Every man in his late forties could be him. He was seventeen when he met her mother in Berlin. Is he dead. Is he here. Does he know. What would happened if they magically met?
Most women wear a hat or a scarf, hiding part of head. This time she, doesn't stand out. In the middle of the street, a bike messenger riding against the traffic jumps on the sidewalk right besides her, missing her by inches. How can he ride with all this snow?
BOOKSTORE, BOULEVARD SAINT-LAURENT, MONTREAL
Najwa stares at the window of a bookstore. Could one day her own book be amongst those displayed. Christmas music echoes through the street, reminding her of her childhood in Budapest. The bike messenger whom she saw earlier exits the bookstore and smiles at her.
-I'm sorry if I surprised you before. I had to make it before the store would close, saids the messenger in French as an employee locks the store from inside.
-It's okay, I didn't fall, answers Najwa smiling back.
He kneels down to unlock his bike.
-You should get boots! That's where you get cold from.
-Yes, I'm starting to feel that... How do you manage not to fall in the snow?
-Experience, saids the messenger laughing. Plus I have studs on my front wheel.
-You're like Mad Max!
The messenger looks back at her in silence... then continues.
-That's my name. No jokes. My name is Max.
Najwa extends her hand.
-Nice to meet you, I'm Najwa.
Max pulls his leather gloves to shake her hand.
-Could I offer you a coffee or something to make up for nearly hitting you with my bike on the sidewalk?
-Don't you have to rush for another delivery?
-No, this was my last one. Businesses closes at 6.
-Oh, well I actually just had two coffees... But I wouldn't mind warming up for a few minutes.
-I don't drink coffee either. Tea, water and booze!
-Tea would be good.
HOTEL NACIONAL, HAVANA, CUBA
Alexander parks the Land Rover at the front entrance of the Hotel Nacional where an attendant takes his keys. Najwa walks across the hall into the garden followed by Alexander.
-You want to go to the room first or have drink here?
-We can stay here... I'll have a fresh orange juice if they have.
-Right on.
A waiter arrives at their table.
-Buenas tardes...
-Buenas tardes. Un jugo de naraja para la segnora i un run double, asks Alexander in rough Spanish with a strong Russian accent.
-Anejo? asks the waiter.
Alexander looks at him perplex.
-El run... Old... Siete anos?
-A si, por favor, replies Alexander.
Najwa turns towards Alexander as the waiter leaves.
-Wow, I hear you've practiced.
-I was briefly stationed here in 1992.
-That's where you learned to dance? replies Najwa smiling.
Moments later.
Najwa is sipping on her orange juice as Alexander has finished his rum.
-You know I can find him for you if you wish.
-No... Please... I'd rather not. I'm not sure I want to meet him. Not sure if I'd have something to say. If I'd be disappointed. If he'd be disappointed... I'd rather leave it to faith.
-Inshallah... saids Alexander looking at the waiter as he realizes his glass is empty.
-Inshallah... replies Najwa.
-Yet you push you're luck by traveling to Canada.
-I wanted to meet this student from the Caspian Sea thing.
-And, how was that?
-Okay, I guess. We had coffee. It was nice, saids Najwa absently.
Alexander senses that Najwa is not in a talking mood and pulls back his chair to stand up.
-I'm gonna go take a shower. Remember we're going to my Cuban friend's house tonight.
-Right. What time is it?
-5, answers Alexander looking at his phone.
-Okay, I'll finish my juice and I'll meet you. What's our room?
-535, 5th floor. Here...
Alexander pulls a key card from his wallet and hands it to Najwa who smiles at him.
-I'll see you in a minute.
Najwa stares back at the sea as Alexander walks away.
MAX'S LOFT, FACING THE SAINT-LAURENT RIVER, MONTREAL
Large windows span the width of the sparsely furnished loft. Najwa stares at a boat sailing through ice patches floating down the river. Max presses shuffle on his track list. Hope by R.E.M. starts playing. The port flood-spots back-light Najwa silhouette as she slowly undoes her hijab. The kettle whistles in the background. Max, not knowing how to react to the rapidly unfolding events, attends to the tea preparation.
-Here you go. Oolong from China and oranges from god knows where, saids Max as he places the tray on a flipped wooden fruit box in the living area.
Najwa approaches and sits on the torn leather sofa. Max kneel on his knees to serve the tea.
-So... are you a student?
Najwa smiles at Max and places her palm on the spot next to her.
-Come...