by David Hunter
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Before continuing on to read the first chapters of the second book, please go to the book's page on Amazon to write a review and rate it. If you have any observations you would like to make to the author directly please e-mail him directly at [email protected]
Thank you. - David (Honaker) Hunter
Prologue (Book Two: "Abducting the Time Master")
"The most useful form of time travel would be to go back a year or two and rectify the mistakes we made." - Matt Lucas
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Moshe and Rivka unwittingly signed their own death certificates with the simple act of brewing a pot of richly aromatic Brazilian cafézihno for the Mossad agents assigned to their night watch.
The strong coffee, which the two agents enjoyed as a means to stay fully awake and alert during their shift, was laced with enough Temazepam to tranquilize a mature elephant.
Rivka couldn't fathom how the six agents, two to each of the three round-the-clock shifts, were able to go through the compact bags of ground coffee in a single day. Having never developed a preference for coffee herself, she had to acknowledge that while brewing, it did smell heavenly. She thought she just might try some in the morning before their early hour trip to their next destination.
The suites above and below theirs, as well as those across the hall and on either side of their own suite, were also occupied by Mossad agents. "If they go through coffee as quickly as the agents assigned to our suite" she thought, "the Brazilian coffee industry would surely welcome a repeat visit from our group!"
The agents of the first two shifts already went through the two bags of coffee closest to the brewing machine. For the night shift she opened the third bag. The dry, ground beans exuded an exquisite smell.
During their stay, the habits of the Levins, as well as each member of their round-the-clock security detail, was monitored from a luxury yacht registered under the flag of Norway. The sleek yacht was anchored in the ocean a few kilometers off Copacabana Beach, unremarkable in the sense that other yachts dotted the sublime coastline.
In addition to satellite and video surveillance systems running continuously on the yacht, three people provided on-the-ground human surveillance, working vending carts along the resort's beachfront. Rounding out the surveillance on the Levin party, a handful of guests within the resort provided on-site eyes and ears, human intelligence being something that technological surveillance would never be able to fully supplant.
No operation, anywhere else in the world, was more important than this to the organization behind it. No expense was spared, the finest deep-cover agents having been deployed to the Levin operation.
Though hopefully not needed, two snipers were also positioned near the resort. An agency assassin, who had proven his value more than once before, posed as a guest in a ground floor suite.
The following morning the Levins would take their leave with their security detail for the bustling city of São Paulo, before finally returning to the State of Israel.
Were they to leave before the plan was put into action, the ability to quickly and quietly kidnap and transport them by sea would be a complete loss. In such an instance the less desirable, higher risk Plan B would have to be initiated. From an operational perspective it was now or never.
The planning and breaching of the security of the suite, which the Levins were renting under an assumed name, required a sizable off-shore payoff to the General Manager of the resort. The Human Resources Manager was also only too happy to hire two cleaning women, sight-unseen, after his sizable debt to a ruthless drug dealer was paid in full.
Operatives posing as part of the cleaning crew, two empregadas: Brazilian cleaning maids, were carefully inserted into the resort's employee staff well before the Levins' arrival. They owed their brief employment to the drug-addicted resort's head of Human Resources.
Assuring his continued silence, the HR manager received an anonymous DVD in the mail. Viewing it on his office computer, he was mortified to see that it was a video of himself, shooting a syringe of heroine into his arm. His face was in full view owing to the angle of the video. It was evident that the camera had been hidden among a group of manuals, on a bookshelf across from his desk in his office.
As the video played, a voice dubbed into it advised him that if he were to ever say anything regarding the hiring of the two maids to anyone who might inquire at some future time, both his wife and employer would receive a copy of this video for their entertainment pleasure.
More incriminating than the drug usage, at least for his wife, was the presence of a woman shooting-up with him. The video included some damning footage of intimate behavior after the injections took their desired effects.
A standard background check of all employees was conducted by a Mossad advance "Red Team" before the Levins' trip. The advance security check team checked the resort from rooftops to foundations, every possible point of ingress and egress - including ventilation system, streets, airspace, neighboring buildings, even all wiring throughout the resort.
Though each was fluent in Brazilian Portuguese, all members of the Red Team intentionally spoke broken Portuguese with a strong American English accent, leading a couple of the resort employees who overhead them to assume the guests were probably leaders of a dangerous criminal underworld enterprise.
Gossip about leaders of a murderous drug cartel and their entourage soon to visit the resort took rapid flight, making its way like a petroleum-fueled fire throughout the resort. The Red Team, hearing these rumors, did nothing to disabuse the notion; it worked to their advantage. The fact that these menacing men didn't deny the rumors only served to fuel the fire. Neither the General nor the Human Resources Managers doubted it for a second. The flow of money, the paid-off drug debt and implied blackmail of the latter served to reinforce the evolving story of the people who booked several rooms, on three floors.
The leader of the Red Team insisted that the General Manager impose a total hiring freeze four weeks before the arrival of their "special guest." This demand created havoc in the kitchen when two of the chefs summarily quit over disagreements with management, but the money the resort paid - with the additional offshore money the GM received - made the problem something he was happy to work around.
The turnaround of employment for cleaning staff was fairly high, thus the addition of the two maids two months before the arrival date didn't raise any eyebrows, any more than the changeover of employees in other departments. Such a turnaround was simply the nature of the hospitality industry everywhere. Besides, their background checks came back clean, and the hiring moratorium for the previous month before the check-in date of the mystery guests was strictly observed.
Before the guests arrived the Red Team made another appearance, double-checking every security issue and reviewing the files of new employees before the hiring freeze was imposed. All was in order. The next day the Mossad moved into the resort, further securing it and setting up audio-visual equipment before the arrival of Moshe and Rivka the following afternoon.
The two Brazilian-appearing women who cleaned the Levins' suite each morning, were readily recognized after a few days by the morning shift of the security detail.
Following the daily ritual of one of the agents checking the women, food, and cleaning carts each morning, the empregadas set to work in an orderly routine that never varied.
“Bomdia, meester Esmeetchee!” Maria, the first of the two maids entering the suite, bade a good morning to the security guard she knew as "Mr. Smith." Agent Pereira, fluent in Brazilian Portuguese, Hebrew, and English, smiled to himself as he responded in kind. He liked his operation alias, Smith. Dark auburn hair with hazel eyes, it seemed to suit him.
“Good morning, senhoritas Graciella and Maria!"
Knowing that they liked to speak in their broken English, as did all of the staff when they thought the guests were native English speakers, Agent Pereira continued, “And how are you this morn
ing?"
“I go well, tank oo!” He noted that Graciella directly translated her response into English precisely as she would have responded in Portuguese. Maria's English was much better, but she wasn't a person overly given to idle conversation.
“I'm glad. Please, come in." Completing his visual, metallurgical, and chemical scan of the women, as well as their carts of food and assortment of cleaning equipment, he stepped aside to allow them entrance.
“Obrigada, não. We clean, feeneesh soon."
“Very good.” Realizing she didn't understand a word he said, he let it go. He wasn't here to teach English.
As Pereira went back to his magazine his partner, Agent Cohen, barely looked up before focusing again on his eBook. Every once in a while, though, Cohen would steal a furtive, shy glance in Maria's direction. When fortune met her eyes with his, she'd grace him with a sexy little wink, then return to the task at hand.
The two women set to work immediately. Their routine started in the bathroom, then bedroom, sitting and entertainment rooms, dining area, and then finally scrubbing down the surfaces of the kitchenette. Once all was cleaned they restocked the various drinks, foods and imported Swiss chocolates in the mini-refrigerator, refilled the counter fruit basket, set out a freshly baked selection of breads, then three bags of ground Brazilian coffee.
One of the sealed bags of freshly ground coffee beans in the food cart was laced with a powerful sleep aid, Temazepam. There was nothing in the composition of the potent drug that would have set off the chemical scanner alarm.
Noting that the agents were creatures of habit, the bag of coffee with the drug additive was placed furthest from the coffee machine. While it was possible that one of the daytime agents might open that bag first, it was unlikely.
Though the two men enjoyed the bubbly, cheerful personality of Graciella, Maria was nearly always the one who caught their full attention as the women bustled about.
Full and sensuous lips matched every other part of her ideally proportioned and curvaceous body. Maria had sculpted curves in all the right places, with a small waist providing a very appealing and striking contrast.
She triggered in Agent Pereira's mind the quintessential Brazilian song, "The Girl From Ipanema":
Olha que coisa mais linda,
mais cheia de graça.
É ela a menina que vem e que passa,
num doce balanço a caminho do mar.
Humming the song to himself, he thought of how perfectly ravishing Maria would look in a skimpy Brazilian bikini on Ipanema beach. Pereira's thoughts invariably reverted to the poor translation, as sung by Frank Sinatra. He accepted this rendition as it equally well suited the raven-haired, buxom beauty:
Tall and tan and young and lovely,
the girl from Ipanema goes walking.
And when she passes.
each one she passes goes – ah!
All too soon Graciella announced their departure, taking the gloriously sensuous Maria with her.
“Até logo, senhores. We see you tomorrow, na manha, 'ta bom?” It was adorable the way Graciella mixed her English with Portuguese.
“'Ta bêm. Até logo Graciella e Maria! We look forward to seeing you tomorrow morning."
Pereira didn't feel even the slightest twinge of guilt by bidding the women farewell until the next morning, knowing his team and their charges would be packed and long gone. Every security precaution was to be maintained. To let these ladies know that they wouldn't see him again would have been a serious breach of protocol.
He didn't know who the Levins were, but he fully understood that they were the highest priority detail assigned to this team in a very long time. Whoever they were, they were clearly important to his country - even at their advanced age.
Having enjoyed the view as Maria bent over while she dusted in her low-cut uniform, that somehow managed to be within what might be considered professionally acceptable, both agents wished that more such assignments came their way.
Pereira looked forward to ending his shift and grabbing a quick bite to eat before going with the advance team to São Paulo. They'd arrive early enough to setup the requisite security precautions, the advance Red Team having already made its rounds.