Trail of Blood

by Uzi Eilam

  “And what do you suggest? Do you need more time in order to instruct the project’s engineers on precisely where to turn and what’s the right way to proceed?”

  “Such an analysis, Imad, would take too long. I’ve been thinking about what I learned from Dr. Peter Thompson, who currently manages the SRC Corporation in Brussels, and might be the only one who knows what to do. Another important point, Imad: as you know, SRC has a relationship with the Israelis. They provided artillery ammunition to Israel, and I’m convinced that the information about Israel’s ballistic and anti-missile missiles is known to Thompson and his people. Visiting SRC in Brussels might prove useful to us.”

  “Okay, Nimer, if that’s what you think, let’s go for it. Give us a day to come up with a new identity for you, with all the digital backup required. You’re already fluent in the process; just make sure to memorize the personal information. Border control in Europe has become stricter. We’ll prepare the suitcase with the false bottom containing the cash you’ll pass on to Thompson. Their rates are only going up as the years go by…”

  “No problem, Mughniyeh. In the meantime, I’ll try to calm down the manager of the Shahab missile project, and stop him from tearing his hair out any further.”

  ***

  The house that served as SRC headquarters, purchased by Dr. Bull, was located in an upscale neighborhood housing the city’s wealthy residents. A massive yet elegantly designed wall surrounded a stunning garden, with the house standing at its center. Nimer recalled that it had been right there that Gerald Bull was assassinated several years ago. To this day, no one knew who had been responsible; lightning, however, would certainly not strike twice in the same place.

  The taxi driver received his fare, including a generous tip, and drove off. Nimer was left outside the locked gate, and briefly regretted the caution that had caused him not to contact Thompson after landing at the airport. He knows I’m on my way to see him, so why worry? I’ll just ring the bell at the front gate. Nimer attempted to shake off his troubling thoughts, ignoring a gut feeling warning him of an unexpected complication.

  Thompson opened the door, shaking Nimer’s hand warmly.

  “Thank you for agreeing to meet me, and please excuse me for the hassle.”

  “It’s not a hassle at all,” Thompson quickly replied. “You should know that I have been savoring your brilliant solution for extending missile range that you called ‘Two Out of Three.’ It saved us from Saddam Hussein’s wrath.”

  “I appreciate that, Dr. Thompson, but now you are the one being asked to save Iran’s Shahab missile project. They’re wary of the Arrow missiles’ ability to effectively intercept the Shahab missiles. The Revolutionary Guard asked me to give you a gift,” Nimer added, passing the suitcase, filled to the brim with hundred-dollar bills, to Thompson.

  “Doctor! How good to see you again,” Carmen called out as she descended the stairs from the second floor. Nimer soon found himself embraced in the arms of Thompson’s charming assistant, who did not hesitate to kiss him on the lips.

  “Come with me, and I’ll show you your room where you can rest for a bit. Peter will wait for you in his study. You wouldn’t mind a cup of Colombian coffee, would you?”

  I have to proceed with caution in my relationship with Carmen, and definitely not invoke Thompson’s jealousy and anger, Nimer thought. This decision in itself made him feel significantly better when he entered Dr. Peter Thompson’s study.

  “Let’s make use of the two hours we have until dinner and see what’s bothering your Iranian friends,” Thompson began leisurely. “I see you’ve brought along a file of documents, diagrams and work plans. Good work, my friend. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

  “The current concern of the Shahab missile development team relates to new information about the anti-ballistic missiles that Israel and the United States are currently developing. They believe the capabilities of the Arrow missile, with its speed, maneuverability and systemic abilities using sophisticated radar, might neutralize the Shahab. I’ve been thinking about adding greater maneuverability, and maintaining the ability to stick to the target despite the random motions of the warhead on its way toward the destination.”

  “You’re thinking correctly, my friend. Now we need to calculate the energy balance, and see whether the warhead has enough fuel to perform all these tricks.”

  ***

  The majority of the next day was dedicated to working on the company’s powerful computer. Thompson impressed Nimer with his fluency in all aspects of missile technology. I still have a lot to learn from Thompson, the late Dr. Bull’s talented and experienced student, Nimer thought, tracking the dizzying dance of the man’s fingers upon the keyboard. Once again, Nimer felt grateful to Mughniyeh.

  “You said yesterday that you have dealt with Israel in the past?” Nimer sent out feelers as they set the calculations aside and turned to the coffee break Carmen had convinced them to take. “Can you tell me about the context?”

  “Ahh…” Dr. Thompson paused briefly, debating to what extent he could expose these sensitive past connections. He had no problems disclosing the Israelis’ secrets, but was still worried about the constant threat the company faced, even after Dr. Bull’s murder. Several intelligence agencies, including the CIA and the Israeli Mossad, had been suspected of attempting to assassinate some of the company’s senior executives. Thompson knew he had to be careful about what he told even those considered to be friends.

  “They were interested mainly in artillery systems with a longer range than that of the Soviet-made cannons that Egypt had,” Thompson finally said. “They had long-range missiles built based on French technology, but at the time, they still had not come up with an effective defense against ballistic missiles.”

  Thompson is keeping some of the secrets to himself, Nimer thought, actually giving the rocket scientist credit for this fact. I’ll make do with his guidance on the required changes to the Shahab missile, and already have enough information to pass on to the development team in Iran.

  “Thank you, Peter,” Nimer said at the end of the packed day he had spent with SRC’s manager. “All of Iran will thank you for your wisdom and your good advice.”

  “It’s quite all right, my friend, and do not underestimate the weight of your own contribution to me and the president of Iraq when we were at a difficult crossroads in upgrading the range of the Scud-B missiles. And now I suggest we end this long day at my favorite restaurant, La Truffe Noire—The Black Truffle. It is truly an experience not to be missed.”

  A cab was already waiting on the street opposite the house’s metal gates, thanks to Carmen’s efficiency, and within a few minutes, they were sitting at a table booked in advance.

  A well-chilled Kir cocktail and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice helped them to make a leisurely decision on the difficult choices posed by the dizzying menu options. Nimer allowed Thompson and Carmen to take the lead on the enjoyable selection process. Carmen’s choice of appetizer was a slice of goose liver encased in a caramel of ground dried fruit, served on brioche toast along with mango in a spicy sauce. Nimer chose red tuna tartar with toasted almonds, olive oil and basil served on rye toast, with a side of Provence-style marmalade. As their main entrée, Nimer and Carmen chose steamed tilapia fillet stuffed with truffles. In contrast, Thompson opted for a dish of ravioli filled with summer truffles. Chilly white Sancerre wine was the perfect complement chosen by Thompson and Carmen, resting peacefully in a bucket full of ice cubes partially covered with a white napkin.

  “This is an appropriate ending for a fruitful, illuminating day of discussions,” Nimer reflected. “Thank you both for everything.”

  “I’m flying to Barbados for a few days tomorrow morning,” Peter Thompson said. “Carmen will stay in town; she knows how to reach me at any moment.”

  “I was thinking of staying in Brussels for another day or
two,” said Nimer, trying not to think about the possibility of Carmen being the one to get in touch with him. “I’ll be waiting with bated breath for a continuation of our cooperation.”

  When the three finished their meal and rose from the table, a cab was already waiting to drive them home. The electric gate opened soundlessly, and Thompson hurried to take the stairs up to the house door after shaking Nimer’s hand to wish him a good night. Carmen remained at the gate to pay the taxi driver, with Nimer by her side. Carmen’s hand was warm and soft, and Nimer could not help but remember the touch of her hands during their first meeting in Barbados. A silence descended upon them as Nimer looked at Carmen, who returned his gaze.

  Everything was quiet. Suddenly, three snicks, like the opening of a champagne bottle, were heard. Three figures dressed in black passed by Nimer and Carmen. She ran to the entrance of the house, throwing her arms around Thompson, who was lying on the floor.

  “He’s bleeding!” Carmen called out. “We have to call an ambulance!”

  Nimer was no longer at her side. He rushed up the house stairs to grab his suitcase, which contained the documents and disappeared. Only when he stopped a passing cab and booked a room at a modest hotel in the city could he reconstruct what had happened at the entrance to SRC headquarters. The threats against the lives of Dr. Bull’s successors were not imaginary, he thought. Who wanted to kill the rocket scientist, manager of the controversial company? Moreover, what kind of luck helped me escape? he thought as a shiver ran through him. Moreover, the timing of the meeting had been so great, leaving me with the crucial answers for the Iranians… Nimer’s conscience was bothering, however, him for growing mesmerized by Carmen’s goodbye hug and failing to notice the three black-clad assassins.

  Chapter 16

  Imad Mughniyeh was the first person Nimer updated, in an encrypted message, about the assassination attempt against Dr. Thompson. He avoided naming the small, modest hotel in which he had found shelter for the night. Mughniyeh was eager to see Nimer, and the meeting took place shortly after the latter landed in Teheran.

  Nimer had returned from his trip to Brussels with the feeling that it had been successful in terms of the answers he had brought back for the Iranian missile developers. He was still distraught due to the assassination attempt on Dr. Peter Thompson, which had taken place right in front of his eyes. Nimer suppressed the thought of what might have happened had Carmen not distracted him, stalling him from going up to the house along with Thompson. He was perturbed by the perpetrators’ long arm and capabilities, thinking: Whom could the assassins be? The almighty CIA? French security services? British MI6? Alternatively, perhaps the Israeli Mossad? I have to make use of Mughniyeh’s experience and wisdom, and make sure that I do not venture as close to danger as I did in Brussels, he decided.

  “Are you sure the perpetrators didn’t notice you? What about the security team that was definitely nearby? After all, you were standing there with Thompson’s pretty assistant, in a relatively well-lit place, right?” Mughniyeh did not hide his concern, which was mingled with criticism.

  “That might be the case, Imad, but I had on the blond wig and the dark glasses…”

  “That is good, but it’s not enough, Nimer. The new data-processing technology currently in use can present many options for the subject’s appearance within nanoseconds. One of the options will be matched with a historic photo in their database. Thompson wasn’t the only one that defense agencies have tried to eliminate, Nimer. I’m on their hit list, and it is possible that now you are as well. We have to keep a low profile and consider our next steps.”

  “I won’t have it!” Nimer burst out. “I’ve just started my quest for revenge. My wife and my two children who were murdered are expecting me to settle the score with all those bastards…”

  “That’s fine, Nimer. You’re right, and it’s precisely in order to ensure you have the freedom to act and your security is guaranteed that we have to expand and deepen your cover stories. One of them, for example, might allow you to enter Israel and move about freely there.”

  “Okay, Mughniyeh,” Nimer acquiesced. “I understand, and I’m willing to do anything your masters of deception require, including more plastic surgery of the kind you underwent.”

  “That’s great, Nimer. I’ll get our people to work on that, while you stay calm. Everything will be taken care of. You should hurry up and meet the Shahab missile team, and help them out of this situation that’s stalling the completion of the missile’s development.”

  ***

  Dan and the team of Talpiot graduates worked relentlessly. Gideon, who would show up at the “Cyber Kingdom,” as he called their workroom, every morning, knew they would always have some news for him.

  “We have a new lead,” Dan stated humbly. “We’ve hacked into an encrypted communication channel that the Iranians set up for Mughniyeh. We heard some of the transmissions, but we occasionally get disconnected. We’ll have to crack a few more codes before we can stay tuned on an ongoing basis. They’re professionals and employ changes that make it hard to maintain the connection. Mughniyeh is still in Teheran, but we’ve received snippets of information about an upcoming flight to South America. Another person who’s sticking close to Mughniyeh is also in Teheran. He’s apparently Lebanese, a Hezbollah member also intended to travel to Brazil and Argentina.”

  “Well, it’s natural and logical that Hezbollah members travel with Mughniyeh…”

  “That’s true, but our impression is that this is a more significant connection. We’ve intercepted some intel about technical problems in developing the new Shahab missile. Mughniyeh is involved in it, possibly with the help of the assistant we just mentioned. And another totally unclear item of information mentions that assistant taking a trip to Brussels…”

  “Speaking of Brussels, Nahari updated me yesterday that we’ve received news that Dr. Peter Thompson, the manager of SRC, has been assassinated. SRC was the company that helped Saddam Hussein upgrade the Scud-B missiles and tried to develop a strategic mega-cannon for Iraq. Nahari said that Dr. Thompson was dead. No organization has claimed responsibility.”

  “Brussels had not been listed as one of our targets,” objected Eviatar, the Talpiot team member from the Mossad. “It’s only now, when we’ve picked up on a still-unclear indication of a connection between Mughniyeh or his assistant and Brussels, that it makes sense to focus our efforts there, unless it’s already too late.”

  “Let us not forget the fact that Mughniyeh and his assistants have been in Iran for quite a few weeks now,” Dan intervened, “if there was an attempt to contact that company, it has to be related to the missile technology in which the company specialized.”

  “Look, my friends, there’s a lot in what you’ve uncovered thus far about Mughniyeh’s plans in South America, including the lead linking Mughniyeh to the Nazi network in South America. It’ll definitely be enough to interest Nahari and his people,” Gideon concluded. “I’ll talk to him right now. Be ready to come to his bureau on very short notice. In the meantime, Dan, try to uncover Dr. Thompson’s history in Brussels, and details about the SRC Corporation. Nahari will want to hear about every bit of information you have.”

  ***

  Nahari’s door was open to Gideon as usual, and he had no problems coordinating a meeting with Dan and the three young men.

  “The most urgent update per the information we’ve gleaned from the communication network,” Dan began, “is activity brewing in Brazil and Argentina, apparently under the leadership of Imad Mughniyeh. We already know about the contact that he has made with Hezbollah members at a training base, as well as activity in the town of Foz do Iguaço, in the Brazilian part of the free-trade zone, located on the border between Brazil, Argentina, and Paraguay.”

  “Is this verified? Are you sure? Is there an expected time for Mughniyeh to arrive in South America? And what kind of attack are th
ey planning?” Nahari peppered them with questions.

  “We can say with certainty that the plan has already been launched,” Dan replied, unhurried. “According to our information, Mughniyeh has left for South America in the last few days along with an assistant affiliated with Hezbollah. We still haven’t managed to figure out who the man is. He might be a German scientist with connections to the Nazi community that found shelter in Argentina, and apparently in São Paulo, Brazil, as well.”

  “And what do they have in store for us? And how do the Nazis fit into the attack plan? Maybe they’re seeking revenge on us for capturing Adolf Eichmann and executing him while also exposing their entrenchment in the countries of South America?”

  “We haven’t seen a specification, but it might be an extensive operation that also includes an attempt to reconstruct the sort of terrorist attacks that took place in Buenos Aires. There’s also a hint, and that’s all it is at this stage, of a possible remote activation of powerful precision rocket artillery…”

  “As we vividly recall,” Gideon chimed in, “Argentina required years of inquiries and investigations before admitting that plenty of assistance was given to the perpetrators of the attack on the Jewish community center.14 The money the Nazis had at their disposal to bribe senior officials, in combination with a similar effort by Iran and Hezbollah, allowed them to execute terrorist attacks successfully .”

  “We have to avert this attack, which seems like a serious threat to me, Gideon. You should sit down with my people to plan our preparations. If we can stop Mughniyeh from getting to South America, that would be best. Think of an appropriate way.”

  “We will,” Gideon promised. “But Nahari, there’s still the topic of the assassination of Dr. Thompson in Brussels and the yet-unclear involvement of a delegate from Iran. Maybe Mughniyeh initiated the idea of using Dr. Thompson’s help in order to solve the malfunctions concerning Iran’s long-range missiles.”