"Yusuf? Yusuf Chelik. Is that really you?"
The handsome middle-aged Turkish graybeard in a gray thawb, an Arab robe, stood up from the outdoor café table on Kizilay Caddesi in the Seyhan central market area of Adana, Turkey. He was a bit flustered to see the man, accompanied by two young men, one Turkish, one obviously a gorgeous Western blond, here on the Adana streets. How he had known the man before was under much more circumspect conditions. The young man sitting at the table looked at him with some surprise, seeing the usually totally in-control Yusuf flustered.
"Sam?" he said, hesitating with the name. He had known this man of comparable age as he, but still tall, imposing, and robust, under more than one name.
"I knew you were in Adana now, but I had no idea we'd run into each other," the man who had been called out as Sam said.
"You knew I was here?" Yusuf asked. He didn't find that comforting. Were they still watching him? "I retired three years ago--in Cairo. I didn't think that--"
"I'm retired now too. The world passes us by--goes on no matter how we sought to influence us," the man who had answered to Sam said.
"Come, sit," Yusuf said. "Have a coffee with us and tell me what brings you to Adana." Yes, most certainly tell me what brings you here, Yusuf was thinking, although he couldn't help letting his gaze go to the young blond man with Sam. He was absolutely beautiful. Just what Yusuf liked. Is it me you are seeking, are surveilling? Although, if the later, you probably wouldn't have declared yourself. And how did you trace me from Cairo back to here?
"Yes, that would be welcome. We've been doing a lot of walking. This is my nephew, Jason"--Sam was introducing the young, blond god. "And our guide in Adana, Ahmet." Ahmet was a beefy but quite handsome, dark-complexioned Turk. "And you are?" he asked of the young man who had been sitting with Yusuf.
"Murat. This is my son, Murat. We are in business here in Adana together," Yusuf said. He signaled for a waiter to bring coffee as Sam and his nephew took the two empty seats at the café table with Yusuf and his son and the guide, Ahmet, sat at the neighboring table.
"I understood that you went into business here," Sam said as the waiter hurried off for the coffee.
"Yes. My son and I are in the Oriental carpet business. Our main shop is just along the street here, with our residence behind it. What brings you to Adana?" The answer to this question was quite important to Yusuf. He had no idea whether Sam would tell him the truth. When they are worked together, truth had not been an honored commodity. Sam would not have just casually happened upon him when they both were employed in the business that brought them together.
"A bit of both," Sam answered, with a smile. "Some business and some family outing. Like you, I couldn't simply retire. I needed to step away, as you appeared to need as well. But I had to be employed in some way. Unlike you, I still have my hand in a bit. I consult now for Northorp-Grumman, and I was coming to Turkey anyway, so they asked me to check in on some of their interests." Northrop-Grumman is one of the leading U.S. heavy military arms manufacturers. "I have a few appointments over the next couple of days at Inchirlik Airbase."
Inchirlik was a Turkish airbase not far from where the men were seated. It was much more than Turkish, though. It also hosted squadrons of U.S. and UK air force planes and flyers engaged in all sorts of missions in the Middle East, some of them clandestine.
"Ahmet here is a mechanic for jets from several countries at the airbase. He's been leant to us to acclimate ourselves to the city. We're staying at the Hilton across the river from here toward the airbase."
"A jet mechanic at the airbase?" Yusuf asked, with new interest, tearing his scrutiny away from the beautiful young mid-twenties American sitting next to him. "Do you hear that, Murat? You should strike up a friendship with this young man." And then, as an explanation for Sam, he said, "Murat isn't all that interested in carpets. He would like to be a jet mechanic too. He has many friends at the airbase."
Yes, I just bet he does, Sam thought, but he took the opportunity to get a good look at the young man claiming to be Yusuf's son. Murat was about the same age as Jason, in his mid-twenties. In contrast to Jason's blondness, Murat was dark, sultry--and, in Sam's eyes sexy. The one thing Sam and Yusuf had in common beyond the avocation they once had shared, if not always for the same masters, was that they were both power tops and had a fetish for sexy, young, submissive men. Sam had seen Yusuf's attraction to Jason immediately, but his own attract to Murat had been just as immediate.
Beyond this, Sam's discerning eye had seen that the young men had reciprocated the interest in kind. That was just fine with Sam.
"You said you were indulging in family travel as well," Yusuf said.
"Yes. My nephew here, Jason, is in seminary, in a summer break between two years at St. John Paul II minor seminary in Washington, D.C. He's preparing to be a Catholic priest."
"Is he?" the Muslim Yusuf said, giving Jason a closer look, if that had been possible. Jason smiled back.
"Yes. He has the summer off and I thought I would take him on a biblical background trip. So much of early Christianity happened here in Turkey. We first went to Ephesus, near Izmir, where we have an airbase I had consultations at. The city is a religious pilgrimage destination for Christians like Jason. The Apostle Paul preached there and there are extensive excavations of buildings back to his time. Then we went to Tarsus, not far from here, where the Apostle Paul was born. After Adana I hope, if my consultations don't take too long, to take Jason on to Antioch, the first place the inhabitants called themselves Christians and where the Patriarch of Asia sat."
"That's quite a tour. You are a lucky young man," Yusuf said, leaning over and placing a hand on Jason's knee. Neither Jason nor Yusuf were quick to move to relocate the hand. "Are you still highly interested in discovering the city now, or would you like to see my carpet shop and perhaps indulge in more coffee and conversation at my residence? Have you seen a traditional Turkish home? I've had mine restored. It isn't far away."
"That would be lovely, yes, thanks," Sam said, his eyes captured by the visage of the sexy young Turk, Murat, broadcasting a signal of interest. Murat's eyes were returning that interest.
"Perhaps you can let Ahmet return to base--after he has given Murat his contact information. Perhaps you would like to stay for dinner--to further young Jason's introduction to our country by tasting our food and experiencing a traditional Turkish residence. We even have a few young servants who can entertain us with Turkish dancing. Murat would see that you got back to the Hilton for the night. It's not far away."
"That is very gracious of you," Sam said. What he was thinking was that that wasn't nearly as hard to maneuver as he had thought it might be.
What Yusuf was thinking was, this will give me time, I hope, to figure out what in the hell this old fox is up to. He had seen Sam's attraction to Murat and thought that perhaps he would direct the young man to distract Sam--not only to neutralize the man having sought Yusuf out for some reason--and Yusuf was not fooled that this had been a coincidental meeting--but it might give Yusuf an opportunity to get at that highly alluring nephew of Sam's. A Catholic priest indeed. What a waste--and what a challenge. The lad had a roving eye, though--and one turned on Yusuf, the man could discern. A Muslim graybeard debauching a young Catholic priest. What a delicious thought.
* * * *
Yusuf's business and residence were an impressive restoration and renovation of a traditional Turkish urban residential compound for a wealthy family. The Oriental carpet shop had a forty-foot front on the busy Kizilay Caddesi, with a twenty-foot garage at the side for Yusuf's Mercedes sedan. The shop was on the ground floor and the business's offices and store rooms were on the floor above this. The residence was behind, with a center courtyard, with fountain, two wings running back thirty feet on either side, and the residence itself along the back, containing lounges and dining room downstairs and four bedrooms, with en suite baths on the second floor. Servants' rooms were in the attic above that. The wall-enclosed lot extended another fifteen feet back from the residence, providing a stone terrace with a small rectangular pool, with burbling fountain, and with a line of funeral cypresses along the back wall. The buildings were in gray stone and an atmosphere of lush traditional Turkish textiles was maintained throughout.
After the visitors had been shown around the shop, the four of them, Yusuf, Murat, Sam, and Jason were settled in facing divans in the courtyard of the residence, next to the gurgling fountain, and tea and Turkish delicacies were produced and offered by a strikingly good-looking pair of young woman and man, who Yusuf said worked both in the shop and the house. Yusuf had invited Jason to sit next to him, with Sam sitting next to Murat. Both sets of men seemed to like this arrangement just fine. Giving Sam a sly look indicating that he knew Muslims weren't supposed to drink, Yusuf added whiskey to the order, and each of the men accepted a drink--and then another--as they chatted about what had transpired, or what they wanted to say had, since Yusuf and Sam had last seen each other.
At length, the sun was dipping low, and the four had not reached any sort of an awkward stage, other than all ignoring that the leaning in and occasional touching of Yusuf and Jason and of Sam and Murat had become more frequent, with the liquor and sweets continuing. The touching had been mostly Yusuf to Jason and Murat to Sam, and it had not been rebuffed. Yusuf made a suggestion. He knew he was risking something, but he both wanted to understand better to what extent Sam showing up endangered him, and he really, really wanted to fuck this luscious young blond, Jason. He didn't seem to mind--or to observe as infatuated as he himself was with the young American blond--that Murat obviously wanted to be fucked by Sam.
"I mentioned the possibility of you staying for dinner so that Jason can experience a traditional Turkish meal," he said, "and I would be very pleased if you stayed. And, if so, why don't you just stay here rather than at the Hilton for the remainder of your stay? We have the bedrooms,"--not that Yusuf wanted to use them all--"and Murat could drive you to the airbase tomorrow for your consultations and pick you up. I could see that Jason is entertained and shown more of the Turkish culture. There are some Christian shrines in the city, if he would like to see those."
"The mechanic, Ahmet, was going to pick me up at the Hilton," Sam said. "He works on the base, so he can drive into it."
