by Dana Arama
“A first aid kit, compass, map and GPS,” Laura added.
“Which I’ll keep with me!” Zorro cut her off with a smile. “Because I don’t trust the two of you too much.”
I kept on listing the required equipment without reacting to what she said, “Torch, night vision device, camouflage for during the day, a satellite phone is essential! Gu-chews, goggles, walkie talkies and headphones.”
“What about weapons?”
“We’ll need them too, a gun, a long weapon with a long-range scope and doubling scope and of course a thermal night scope, hand grenades, silencer… and if I think of something else, I’ll tell you.”
“Are you going out to battle?” Laura asked. She got up from her seat and started pacing uneasily in the room, “Because I think we need minimal equipment.”
“He’s right. It is not going to be easy.” Zorro also got up and stood close to Laura, “Even though I am not happy about putting a gun in your hands, or a hand grenade, or a fencing sword, I think we are once again becoming partners in an adventure.” She took her hand and moved a few hairs off Laura’s face, “I hope this time I can trust you…”
We both looked at Laura, who replied indifferently, “I think we should parachute with first light. It will give us a few hours of sleep beforehand.”
“The princess needs her beauty sleep.” Zorro smiled at me, “Take off the list the mirrors and the lipstick.”
“I have to agree with Laura. Both of us haven’t slept much in the last forty-eight hours and the next forty-eight are going to be tough.” I smiled at Zorro, “We don’t have mirrors or lipstick, but we should add a helmet with a face guard.” I looked at both women and stated, “You are going there looking pretty and you should return in the same way.
“We are not landing between the trees.” Laura said quickly, “Let’s find a suitable field and land there.”
“Of course, like it is for certain that sometimes we drift…” I was wondering whether she was regretting her decision.
Zorro must have felt the same way because her next question was, “Do you have any doubts about this journey?”
“No…” Laura answered and then added honestly, “But I would like it to be behind us already…”
Once again, we leaned over the aerial photos, this time enlarged. Zorro saw it first. “Do you see the light patch? That’s a newly ploughed piece of land. The exact type of landing target we were looking for.”
“I’m hearing a ‘but’ in your tone of voice…”
“But these photos are from last Thursday. Let’s hope they haven’t planted there yet or if they have, that it hasn’t started sprouting. Because if so, then my whole plan, based on land in a different color, is based on something that doesn’t exist anymore.”
I looked at Zorro and asked, “Is there no simpler way to contact this ‘Successor’?”
“Are you also starting to regret coming to me?” She smiled. “‘El Desconocido’, the ‘Successor’ doesn’t accept calls. When he wants to, if he wants to, he makes the contact. It is not a connection one always likes.” The smile disappeared from her face when she added, “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough before, he also doesn’t accept visitors. Which means that we will have to infiltrate his home, and when I mean ‘home’, I mean his well-guarded fortress.”
***
Zorro’s “supplier” turned out to be a small, thin-framed old man, who lived in a dilapidated wooden hut. We entered his home. His shabby living room was attached to a kitchen. We then followed him along a corridor which led to another shabby room. In this back room he moved an iron bed, rolled up the colorful carpet underneath it and then lifted four parquet boards which served as the entrance to another world. We went down a wooden ladder, into what seemed like what was used once as a cooler room for agricultural produce of some sorts and now is used for storing new equipment, everything from clothing to firearms.
Laura immediately announced that she didn’t need any clothing or weapons. She had come well-prepared.
“I still insist on a helmet with a face guard.” I said, “I am sure you didn’t bring that along with you.”
“I didn’t.” She admitted, “But I am sure we won’t find it here.”
In response to what she had just said, the old man silently laid on the small wooden counter, a used helmet but in good condition. Zorro patted his shoulder and asked for two more.
In just less than an hour, we had all the equipment we needed. There were some items he didn’t have but promised to get them for us a little later in the day and would make sure to deliver it to the motel. After we checked that all the equipment we had was in good working condition and we were satisfied, we left. The bill, as I found out, had already been settled, based on previous business relationships. That is how she always did business with him before. I didn’t try to understand how and why. Zorro had a mutual debt system with different types of people all over the world. Her assistance absolved her debt to my boss and that was all I needed to know.
We drove back to Zorro’s club, unloaded the gear, and each of us took our personal equipment with us. While we were doing this, her chef prepared a meal for us and we all sat down at a secluded table.
“If the plane we are supposedly boarding in a few hours looks like your supplier’s hut, maybe we should use the office’s plane,” Laura suggested. I thought it wasn’t a bad idea at all.
“To use the office plane means giving a flight schedule,” Zorro answered.
“Yes… So?”
“So, there goes the element of surprise. Any flight schedule will reach the wrong hands and we will be expected. Haven’t you realized yet, that everyone is in someone’s pocket? Everyone works for the cartel. The question is which one.”
“And if we give a flight plan to Guatemala and cross over the border from the other side? I asked.
“Then I am not sure I will be able to find our way. I am not sure there will be signs.”
“There are signs?”
“There are signs all over. Mexico is decorated with signs, which look pretty to a stranger but serve as a language for the locals. Signs for a drug selling station, signs for the entrance to a tunnel for smuggling, signs for kitchens cooking crystal meth. There are signs, one just needs to recognize them. Each cartel has signs of their own and few people know all the languages. That is one of the problems with the Sinaloa… because the younger generation was born from them, they know the language.”
“And you know all the languages?” I enquired.
“I know the Sinaloa in a few areas and the warning signs of the younger generation. The younger generation doesn’t know the signs of El Desconocido, because he is originally from Tijuana.”
“So, do you know his signs?”
“I know them. I helped make them.”
The question was clear on our faces and she answered before we could ask. “He was my lover.”
“Was your lover…umm… Well, I hope for us, it ended on good terms.”
Zorro laughed. This was the first time that I saw her really laughing and it made her exceptionally beautiful.
“When I decided to settle in Mexico,” she explained, “I looked for an accountant and a lawyer to help me build my business. This time I wanted everything to be legal. El Desconocido was both. A brilliant young man. The only thing he had missing to really make it was the right connections. I introduced him to the right people and thanks to me he enjoys the success he does today. If it wasn’t for who I was, he may still have been on the other side of the law.”
I thought maybe that is why he got his nickname -- the unknown, the stranger. He truly was a stranger and unknown, until Zorro had introduced him to the right acquaintances.
“We are supposed to rely on signs on trees which are changing as we speak. Is this how we are going to find the home that is not marked?”
&n
bsp; “Exactly!”
“You have never been to his place and you really don’t know where we are going to?”
“Exactly.”
“Good lord,” Laura said, looking paler than ever. “It seems as they may find our bodies in this jungle.”
“You can still stay here, and Guy and I will go on our own.”
“You are not going alone with Guy.” Laura gathered herself. “We should part ways now. We will make our last calls before we leave.”
“Don’t go chatting too much and don’t give away any information,” I reminded Zorro, “You don’t know who could be listening.”
“I will wait for you at three a.m. sharp, in a car, outside your hotel. At five after three I am leaving.”
“We’ll be there.” I looked at pale Laura and added, “We’ll both be there.”
“Come, I will take you both back to the hotel. I still have a place to run today and to organize a night flight.”
“And we have to wait for the rest of the equipment the old silent man promised to deliver today.”
The journey to the center of town passed in silence. Each of us was deep in his own thoughts. It was eight in the evening and I thought how it was over twenty-four hours since Jonathan had disappeared. Was he still alive? That was a very disturbing thought that I needed to ignore. My assumption had to be that he was alive and that he needed me and so did my relatives. Instead of being with them, I was trying to do what I knew best. I was trying to gather intelligence for them, which was something I used to be good at. Good information was hard to come by. Did I still have it in me? That was another doubt I needed to ignore.
Laura and I got out of the car and Zorro sped off with screeching tires. “She’s a stormy type, hey?” I noted mainly to myself.
“Yes… Stormy, unpredictable and captivating…”
I glanced at the corner where our stalker was hiding. It was empty.
“I am going to kiss you now,” I said quietly, “And it is going to be a very passionate kiss, then I am going to spin you three hundred and sixty degrees, in order to check our surroundings.”
She smiled and looked soft and in love, and she casually dropped her sack next to her feet, fell into my arms and held her lips up to mine. The kiss was actually hot and the surveying of the street showed nothing. There was no one I could pick out.
“I think we are clean of any stalkers,” I said, smiling.
“I also didn’t see anything suspicious.” She answered. Her arms still around my neck. I stroked her along her back and in response, she disconnected herself from me. She was a difficult nut to crack and I wasn’t a hungry squirrel.
I picked up the two sacks in one hand and slung them over my shoulder. I put my other arm around her, and we crossed the quiet street. I was wondering if it would be okay to ask her about her past with Zorro. Were there truly drugs involved? Did the test the next day, after their mutual sexual encounter, find any drugs residue? But that was gossip belonging to the past, and it didn’t help me in the present. In no rush, we made our way to our rooms. We stalled next to her room. She got up on her tiptoes, put her arms around my neck, kissed my cheek and said: “I wanted to thank you… It may seem strange to you, that I am thanking you for being here, but your presence is really making it easier for me to do my job, so… Thank you.” I put my arms around her and pulled her towards me for a moment. I said, “Have you forgotten you are helping me in my private family matter?”
She took her arms away and I let her go. She said, “No, I haven’t forgotten. And it still doesn’t take away from my thank you.”
Then she turned around, took her sack of equipment, opened the door to her room and closed it behind her with the same cold shoulder which I had already seen her give me.
I wanted to open her door and finish that kiss she left imprinted on my cheek, to slowly undress her, to reveal every piece of pale skin, but then I glanced at my watch. We didn’t have much time to rest and I still had two phone calls to make. One of them was to my ex-boss.
I didn’t find a tail in the street, but that didn’t mean that the tail hadn’t bothered to come to the room while we weren’t here and plant a bug. I quickly looked over every possible strategic spot. The room looked devoid of any tapping devices. Now I felt free to make the call.
“Will it be possible?” I asked.
He answered simply, “Yes,” as if he had no intention of explaining or having to divulge more than he needed to.
“So why didn’t we do it up till now?”
“We need to know where he is. The moment we know we will place a tapping device on him.”
“So, I will be the GPS of the system?”
“You are going to be our beacon. As soon as we have a location, we will activate a back door through the Israeli equipment the Mexican telephone company bought from us.”
“And my equipment?”
“It has what it needs. I just need you in the location and a few minutes later, we will start the wiretapping.” He paused for a moment and then added, “Hopefully everything will work as planned and the back door we prepared just in case is really open still.”
“It will still be open. I trust our men.”
“And I,” I heard him smile, “trust you.”
Laura Ashton,
Motel room, November 12, 2015, 9:00 p.m.
The shower woke me up, enough to allow me to make the necessary phone calls. The fact that I was far away from the real action and the fact that I had a new focus, didn’t mean that I could allow myself to disconnect from the rest. I had to work on both places, which had become a familiar modus operandi lately. To try and find Gail and take her away from all this was one goal, and the work tasks my second goal. So, I grabbed my phone from the dresser, sat on the creaking bed and dialed.
“We have made use of our sources from the known cells and there is not even a hint,” declared Musstafa Allimi. I knew that Musstafa hadn’t slept well either in the last couple of days. He may have managed to take a nap for an hour here or there in the relaxation room.
“It’s not good,” I answered. “It means that we are dealing with a completely new cell.”
“That’s correct… And that’s why I need your office.” Musstafa Allimi sounded tired, just like me. “I need you to open the intelligence agency’s doors of the Jordanian, Lebanese, Egyptian, Turkish… we’ll add Morocco to the list, and actually every Muslim country prepared to cooperate with us. We need to get the data that they may have on suspects who have disappeared and may have arrived in the United States with a false identity.”
“I will add Israel to the list as well. The Mossad has a very accurate source of information of its own.”
“Any clue can help us here.”
“What about the wiretapping in the mosques?
Allimi laughed or smirked or groaned. It sounded like a mixture of everything. He said, “We didn’t get permission for that.” He added drily, “Yet.”
“The new law, hey?”
“I am sure that it will pass eventually. Profiling will become illegal.”
“So, who have you arrested in the meantime?”
“From the list of suspects, we arrested Gazi Nazar. He is in the middle of fundraising. But all his documents prove that he is collecting money to open a new community center and offices for the Hezbollah in Venezuela. We have arrested a suspect for questioning, not on the list. He is associated with Al Qaeda, Hezbollah and Hamas and so far, nothing.”
“Have you released him yet?”
“No. He is still here for another twenty-four hours. We will try to make the most of it.”
“Don’t all these plans remind you of something?
“Sheikh Omar El Abdul in the Nineties… The plans to blow up all the Jewish shops in New York City.”
I smiled humorlessly. He really knew his stuff.
“Do you think someone else might have adopted this plan?”
After a moment of silence Allimi asked, “Do you suggest we start questioning the Jewish community as well? Maybe there are radicals who wish to stir public sympathy for Israel?
“I suggest we keep all our options on the table. Including militant factors for the flag of the ‘Lions’, The Makers Church, The National Alliance. Let’s check which of them spread out soldiers lately or received early Christmas gifts or escalated the level of hatred towards the Jews and Israel.”
“I will broaden my search. We will add more content monitoring to social networks.”
“And I will make sure you have access to the other agencies.”
The next call was to Gordon. Instead of a ‘hello’ he asked, “Where the hell are you?” I wondered if I heard a mixture of anger and concern in his voice and thought that if he had pursued me at another time, he may have succeeded.
Ever since I’d rejected him, it had become harder to work with him.
I answered, “I’m investigating some information concerning drugs and prefer not talking about it in the meantime.”
“What happened?” I heard contempt in his voice. “Have you lost your Mossad man?”
“Lost?” I was slightly amazed, “Why would I have lost him? Actually, he is right next to me. Would you like to speak with him?” Gordon was quiet on the other side of the line. I smothered a smile and continued, “Musstafa Allimi is requesting to pull strings in the foreign intelligence agencies. We need them to cooperate and put some pressure on those who aren’t so keen to cooperate. You should start with Egypt and Jordan. You may need to put a bit of pressure on Lebanon, Turkey and Morocco. In this case, David Gideoni from Israeli’s Mossad will be happy to cooperate. Any name that they give will be investigated, any hint they provide must be checked. We have a massive terror attack and our only lead has disappeared.”
“I will get on to it right away.” His usual patronizing tone had disappeared.
“And Gordon…” I suddenly remembered, before I hung up, “Please try and accelerate the court order that Allimi requested. Someone has to listen in on the leading mosques.”