Triple Identity dg-1

by Haggai Carmon

  “The main entrance door is a heavy double door, probably made of metal sheets plated with a thin layer of copper. The lock is not a problem. However, use of the main entrance is ruled out because the bank is situated on a street that is active most hours of the day, and any forced entry from the front entrance is likely to be detected. The door used by the employees is also facing the street, though it doesn't look like a part of the bank building and may attract less attention.”

  A true professional, I thought in appreciation.

  “Look at the back door,” Shimon continued, pointing his finger at it. “I think it's the most suitable for a silent entry, if we opt to use a door. You'll soon see that there are other options. I did not detect any alarm systems in the hallway of either the side entry or the back entry; however, the doors themselves are protected with a rather primitive and outdated alarm system that should not cause us too much concern. I did not risk entering the second and third floors at this time.”

  We listened attentively. Eric was taking notes. Benny, reading our collective thoughts asked, “So, how do we get in?”

  “At this time, our best way in is through the roof,” said Shimon, pointing to the photograph. “See here, there is a tree in the backyard that extends all the way to the roof of the bank. I could climb that tree, pass onto the roof, and lower myself to a third-floor window, and from there go through the bank corridor and down the stairs to the second floor. But I'm not done with my end of the EEI, so let's not lock ourselves into that option. I'm still working on other possibilities.”

  Shimon paused, as if he were waiting for approval. He then turned to me. “Dan, you were there so you'll have to draw me a floor chart showing me where Guttmacher's office is.”

  “I shouldn't have a problem doing that. Besides, I think we are getting the floor plan from the city's building department. It's a public record available to anyone; you go and pull out in a central hall of archives the volume needed from a flat metal drawer, pay a small fee, and make a photocopy.”

  Shimon paused, waiting for comments, and when none were made he added, “Then there's the final question: Where is the file?”

  “I have the answer to that one. I went back to the bank and discovered a small vault hidden in Guttmacher's office. My guess is that's where we'll find the file.”

  “And how did you arrive at that guess?” asked Benny.

  “A case of a lost coat,” I said, and then gave them the details, including a description of the vault.

  Shimon smiled, and Eric turned to him.

  “Could you do the entry?”

  “I think so, if I'm given the word. I'll need support staff, backup force, security arrangements, and some equipment.”

  “If we are convinced that the file is in the vault, we still need to make a decision how to open that vault,” said Benny.

  “What do you mean?” asked Eric.

  “We'll have to decide whether to detonate the vault's lock and leave the scene with the door blown away or try to open it and take out the file without being noticed. Once we have the file do we remove it and leave or make copies then and there, returning the file to the vault? If the latter option is taken it increases the chances that the entire operation will remain unnoticed, but it also increases the level of danger because copying will take time. From Israel's perspective minimizing risks is very important. If something goes wrong, I don't think my government wants to be connected to a bank break-in in Europe, even if the goal is important.”

  I knew what Benny was referring to. In fact, I'd wanted to say just that when Benny interrupted me. Covert operations, by definition, always had to have a built-in deniability factor. If the operation was exposed, the original operational plan must contain several levels of deniability to minimize the likelihood of positively linking the operation with the Mossad. Even when Israel releases the results of covert operations, the sources and methods utilized remain classified to protect sensitive assets.

  All the Mossad's operations outside Israel are secretive and denied by the Israeli government. But there are denials and there are denials. When the Mossad kills a terrorist in his bedroom somewhere in Europe or North Africa, although Israel denies any connection Israeli officials leak the story to a foreign newspaper. This is how Israel kills two birds with one stone. The government denies any involvement so that there will be no protests by the foreign country whose sovereignty was violated by Israel. But the message is clear that Israel will pursue terrorists anywhere and under any circumstances. Then there are denials that are meant to distance Israel from any covert missions outside its borders. There are no leaks of operational details and in fact Israeli agents outside Israel spread “distracters” or “blowbacks,” false information aimed at sending investigators on a wild-goose chase. That happens in “black operations,” when Israel will stand to lose if it is connected to the operation. In the cost-benefit equation, the damage outweighs the projected gain from the exposure.

  Benny continued as if he'd heard my silent explanation. “I believe that, although stealing the Iranian's nuclear materials purchasing list is important, Israel would not like to be implicated. So,” concluded Benny, “if you want my recommendation for an Israeli participation in the operation, I'd suggest that the break-in be silent, the vault secretly opened, and the file copied and returned.”

  Eric sounded disturbed. “Opening a vault without explosives needs special equipment and additional professionals. It could take me up to two weeks to bring them over and orient them, and we may not have that time. Time could be of the essence; the file may be removed if we sit on our asses and wait for others to do our job.”

  You could cut the tension with a knife. It was clear that Benny was controlling the meeting. He was far more senior in the Mossad than Eric was in the CIA; he was also older and more experienced. I sensed that Eric was torn by his urge to tell Benny to play second fiddle or get lost and his knowledge that he couldn't do it without Benny, at least not as fast. I also suspected that Eric had a contingency plan if the operation was exposed and people were caught. He could always spin the media to put the blame on the Mossad.

  “I need to add something,” I said. “There could be a solution to the problem, but I'll wait for my turn.” I looked at Eric.

  “There's no need to wait. Go ahead and give us what you've got.”

  I poured myself a beer and began. “Earlier, I told you that I located a vault hidden in Guttmacher's office. I'm pretty confident that the Iranian-DeLouise transaction file is kept there, because I vividly remember hearing metal clicking when Guttmacher went from the conference room into his adjoining office to bring the file. It definitely sounded like a vault being opened. I suggest you check the audio; it must have picked that up. Now, here is the part that you still don't know: I have a snapshot of a woman who touched the lock of the vault today. I don't know anything else about her, but I think she could easily be traced.”

  “How did you get that?” asked Eric with surprise.

  I told them about the UV powder and the UV lightbulb.

  “You son of a gun,” said Benny, “you remembered that trick? I think you and I were on the same team that rehearsed it ages ago.”

  “You're right,” I said, “I remembered. I also used the powder to dust my hotel room. I had visitors today while I was away.”

  “The Iranians?” asked Tom.

  “Possibly. They told me in the meeting with Guttmacher that they'd be watching me.”

  “Is your room clean?” asked Lovejoy.

  “Yes, I sanitized everything. There's nothing in my luggage other than clothing. Everything else is in the hotel's central vault or at the consulate. They didn't remove anything, and all my stuff checked benign. But they may have planted some devices in my room or my luggage: audio, video, the works. I also noticed someone scrutinizing my car outside my hotel.”

  “OK,” said Eric, “we all stay away from Dan. He's contaminated. He cannot be seen with any of us until furthe
r notice. Dan will continue living in the hotel, but communication with him is limited to calls from pay phones to our special secured line.”

  “I'm excluded from the quarantine,” said Benny. “I'm a foreigner, nothing links me to Israel or to our meeting today, and I'm leaving tomorrow through another European country.”

  “Avoiding me may not be necessary,” I said. “I have other plans. I traced Ariel's footprints and they lead to Moscow. I'm going there.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Eric. “She got away?”

  “I don't know yet,” I added, and told them about the airline reservations under Ariel's name.

  “So you don't know if she actually made the flight?” asked Jeff, opening his mouth for the first time.

  “No, I don't,” I conceded. “And furthermore, I don't even know if the person traveling is in fact Ariel Peled. I simply haven't had the opportunity to work on it; I've only just learned this information. I was planning to call the Cosmos Hotel in Moscow to see if she checked in.”

  Eric went to the telephone, dialed a number, exchanged a few terse sentences, and hung up. “The office will do it for us.”

  “Since I have become a security burden, you won't mind my Moscow plans. I think you'll survive without me for two or three days.”

  “We'll talk about it later,” said Eric, reassuming his control over the meeting.

  “So what are your conclusions? Is the bank job doable?” asked Benny.

  Eric thought for a minute. “We transcribed the recording transmitted from the pen Dan left on Guttmacher's desk. The metal clicking suggests a vault. I'm fairly convinced that Dan is right. The file could be in the vault. I also suspect that Guttmacher may have plans that he has neglected to reveal to his Iranian clients.”

  We waited for Eric to continue. Only Tom and Jeff sat back. It seemed as if they already knew what Eric was about to say.

  “Guttmacher is somehow connected to the Latinos. We don't know how. We don't know if he's in bed with them or in competition with them. There were some angry exchanges on the phone between Guttmacher and someone. They spoke English, but Guttmacher paused twice to shout at his secretary to look up a word in the dictionary. In both instances it was a Spanish word. We know that as late as yesterday the file was in his vault because we heard him order a woman named Gertrude to bring the file out and we heard the vault click from a close distance.”

  “So then,” I interrupted, “the woman in the photograph is likely the very same Gertrude.”

  Eric gave me the look reserved for teachers showing displeasure toward a failing student. “We know that. There are several other pieces of information we obtained from the transcription. One is that Guttmacher planned to go to Moscow soon. The second is that he's probably blackmailing DiMarco to split some of the commissions the Iranians are paying. Guttmacher threatened DiMarco that unless he agreed, he'd simply be bypassed.”

  “Is that all?” I was hoping my contribution to the operation would bring me closer to my original objective. While it was very exciting to participate in planning the operation against the Iranians, my main assignment was to locate and retrieve the missing ninety million dollars. The spy stuff was nice, but it was no longer my game.

  “No,” said Eric, “we have plenty more, but it's being transcribed now. However, Guttmacher doesn't spend much time in his office. There is no question that he's a serious money launderer. I wouldn't be surprised if most of his business is built on dirty money.”

  “OK,” said Benny, “I need Avi, my logistics guy, to confer with yours. I'll attach his findings to my EEI report.”

  “Did you get the building plans?”

  “Yes, I did,” said Jeff from his corner seat. “It was built in 1936 and no modifications have been made since. We are preparing the floor charts on three different small plastic sheets that glow in the dark. So Shimon, or anyone else, could read them. But I need Dan to go over the plan of Guttmacher's floor, in case they made changes that do not need a building permit.”

  “No problem,” I said.

  “Good,” said Shimon, smiling and exposing his perfect white teeth. “The plastic map is a good idea. But just in case, I use a night-vision scope that lets me see in the dark like a wildcat. Avi, show them our toy.” He looked at the Mossad's logistics man, a tall slim guy with a military crew cut. He opened his attache case, pulled out a scope with a strap, and handed it over to Jeff.

  “This little baby enables you to see anything in pitch dark. It's the latest technology, made in Israel,” he added with unconcealed pride. “This is a compact, lightweight, handheld night binocular combining night vision with a laser range finder and a digital compass enabling accurate azimuth and inclination and elevation measurements.”

  Eric gave it a brief, slightly jealous look and said, “OK, let's continue.”

  “What about the utility company's junction box?” asked Shimon.

  “It's next to the fourth building down the road. We could yank it off in no time,” said Tom. “It'll black out the entire block. The switch is mechanical, not electronic, so we can't make it look like the power failure originated from a different location. I think their repair team could be on the scene within thirty minutes of the power failure. We'll give them a drill later on tonight in another location to check their response time.”

  “Shimon, under the worst-case scenario how long would it take to enter the bank building in the dark and with the alarm system immobilized?”

  “About ten minutes if we take the roof-entry option,” said Shimon. “I'll climb the tree to the roof and, from there, to the third-floor window. If there are any alarm systems they could have a battery backup, so they could still be working. But in my experience many alarm systems go off in a blackout, so people are kind of used to it. Anyway, we'll try to shut down the alarm when we go in.”

  Jeff added, “We also planned a decoy operation in another bank down the block, Bayerische Hypotheken und Wechsel Bank. We're trying to learn how to trigger their alarm system. It's electronic and linked to a monitoring control center. We want them to think there's a break-in and send the police in that direction. The street leading to that bank is not directly connected to the street on which Guttmacher's bank is located, and any police-car movement would be in the opposite direction. The sirens would also tell people that the police are on the way without knowing that they're on the wrong way. We'll monitor their waveband.”

  “Now we're getting somewhere. Avi, you and Jeff need to talk logistics,” said Eric. “You two can work at the dining table. Speaking of which, is anyone hungry?”

  “Good timing,” I said. “I'm starved. I haven't eaten all day.”

  I grabbed Benny by his arm. “Let's you and me be the pickup and delivery boys.” We made a quick list of orders and left. It was time for Benny and me to talk.

  T he rule was to leave the apartment one by one, making sure nobody was in the hallway, and then use different building exits. We met and talked only a block away after checking for watchers.

  “Let's find a kosher place,” I said to Benny. He said nothing but I knew he appreciated my suggestion. He kept kosher; he wouldn't eat otherwise.

  “I know a good one on Reichenbach Street,” he said. Although it wasn't far, we took a cab. The place was bustling, many of the men wearing yarmulkes and beards. I saw Benny's eyes widen when he ogled the plates full of mouthwatering, cholesterol-laden delicacies. We placed our orders for takeout.

  Benny caught me off guard. “I think you're angry at me for withholding recent information about DeLouise,” he said in a tone that indicated it was all right with him.

  “No, I'm not angry, I'm surprised or disappointed. More of one than the other. I'm not sure which.”

  Benny gave me his no-nonsense, sharp-eyed look.

  “I couldn't tell you that Dov Peled, aka Raymond DeLouise, made a surprise contact with us after thirty-three years. You know the rules. Need-to-know basis. Even if you were still in the organization, I could
n't have told you unless you needed to know.”

  I sat there silently. I knew he was right, but somehow I had hoped that our friendship and common past would be stronger than these rules. I had to realize that even a strong friendship was a matter of degree in this business.

  “At least can you tell me if you have Mina Bernstein? I hope that isn't information classified on a need-to-know basis. Even if it is, I need to know.”

  “No need to be sarcastic, Dan. Yes, we do. We sent her back to Israel. The lady wouldn't be safe here until Ariel was found.”

  I was moderately relieved. Lack of any elaboration by Benny showed me that maybe Mina didn't tell them about the safe-deposit box. Otherwise he would have asked me for a copy of its contents.

  “Why did DeLouise call you?” I asked.

  “He didn't call me personally. The duty officer forwarded his call to the unit controlling agents operating on foreign lands.”

  “What did he want?”

  The waiter called our number and we went back to the counter to pick up the order. It smelled great: brathachen (fried chicken), klopse (meatballs), bratkartoffeln (the German roasted potatoes), apfelmus (thick applesauce), doboschtorte (a seven-layer cake with mocha cream), and bread rolls, which in southern Germany are called semmeln. At the last minute Benny ordered kalb schnitzels, breaded veal cutlets on rolls.

  I had an instant recollection of my mother's kitchen. These were the same mouthwatering smells, only without her smiling at me and saying, “Come, I prepared your favorite dish, sit down and enjoy.”