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Spy Dance

Page 41

by Allan Topol


  “Who are they?” Khalid demanded to know, pointing at Sagit and Daphna, who was still wearing her Italian man’s disguise.

  David motioned toward Sagit. “She’s an agent with the Mossad.”

  Khalid was horrified. “And you brought her here?”

  “You’ll understand when we talk some more.”

  Khalid sighed. “And the man with the Italian passport?”

  “My daughter, Daphna.”

  Khalid peered closely at her, now noticing some resemblance. “Your daughter? I never knew.”

  “It’s a long story for another time.”

  Khalid glanced nervously at the door. “By coming, and bringing them, you’re putting us all at risk.”

  David tried to soothe him. “I know that, but we had our reasons. You’ll find out in a few minutes. First, I want you to know that General Chambers is dead.”

  “I already know.”

  Now it was David’s turn to be surprised. “How could you? Washington hasn’t made it public yet.”

  “Our friend Madame Blanc is in Riyadh in suite 4800 at the Hyatt Regency. She told me about it.”

  David turned to Sagit. “That just proves what I suspected. She killed him. How else would she know?”

  “She said it was a heart attack.”

  “That can be induced.”

  “It can?”

  “Absolutely, if certain chemicals are administered to the body. The woman’s diabolic.”

  “She claims that she also has the secretary of State in her pocket and that he’ll oppose military intervention by the U.S. government.”

  David thought back to Frost’s behavior at the meeting in the Oval Office. “She may very well, judging from how he acted at the White House meeting I attended.”

  “What happened?”

  David proceeded to describe the meeting in detail, including the fact that Frost was stunned by the news of Chambers’ death and didn’t support intervention on the side of the king, which would have been expected from the secretary of State.

  When he was finished, Khalid asked, “So how likely do you think it is that President Waltham will decide to support the king and tell him about me and the coup?”

  David shrugged, “I don’t know Waltham, and I couldn’t read him. I made the best argument I could for your support, but he was noncommittal. I’d say it’s about fifty-fifty. Frost won’t be a factor either way.”

  Khalid shook his head in disbelief. “So you mean there’s a fifty-percent chance that my head will be hanging in a public square like that of Azziz five years ago.”

  “If you wait and do nothing until the 6th, that’s about it.”

  Khalid looked dejected. “But what else can I do?”

  There was a noise outside the building. It sounded like something scurrying across the ground. Khalid raised his right hand, signaling them to be quiet. Warily, he walked over to the window and stared into the night air—lit by a three-quarter moon and myriad stars. He looked in every direction, but couldn’t see a thing. It must have been an animal, he decided.

  David gave a sigh of relief, then resumed talking when Khalid cut back across the room. “That’s one reason we came. Did Madame Blanc give you my report about the palace defenses and the oil field destruction systems?”

  “As soon as she arrived in Riyadh. It was a great report, except for one thing.”

  “The codes?” David asked. Khalid nodded. “Well, you can’t blame me. I needed something to hold over that monster. If I were to give them to you now, how quickly could you move?”

  Khalid’s face lit up. “You mean, advance the date of attack?”

  “Yep, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  The colonel closed his eyes, mulling over the details that would have to be coordinated. He liked David’s idea. All of his people were ready and anxious. In some ways, a few days earlier would be better. That meant less time for someone to inform on him.

  Finally, he said to David, “It’ll be tight, but we can be ready to go as early as twenty-four hours. Tomorrow morning at first light.”

  “That should work,” replied David. “President Waltham won’t have made a decision yet, and you’ll present him with a fait accompli. There’s a good chance that he’ll remember what I told him and not take any action.”

  “But what about Israel?” Khalid said, looking at Sagit. “What will they do? They usually make trouble.”

  Sagit bristled at his last comment, but bit her tongue to avoid taking the bait. “My government’s had time to consider this issue,” she said somberly, “because I briefed them after your meeting in London with David.”

  “And?” Khalid asked nervously.

  “We won’t take any action. The House of Saud’s always been a bitter enemy of Israel.”

  “Okay, give me the codes,” Khalid said to David. “I’ll deactivate the automated systems tonight and launch the attack tomorrow morning.”

  David took a deep breath. “I need something in return.”

  “Saving your life five years ago wasn’t enough?”

  “Just a little something else.”

  Khalid’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “I want you to give us the support we need to kidnap Mohammed Nasser and to fly him to Israel to stand trial for the murder of the Israelis who died on Bus eighteen last August, including my wife, Yael. The Americans may want to try him for the Khobar housing bomb five years ago as well.”

  Khalid was dumbfounded. “How do you intend to do that?”

  “You don’t want to know the details,” said David. “We’ll need the help of your mole in Nasser’s organization to get us into Nasser’s complex, and we’ll need an unmarked helicopter. That’s all.”

  “And if I don’t give you those, you won’t give me the codes?”

  “I wish you wouldn’t put it that way.”

  There was a long pause while Khalid studied David’s face to try to determine if he was bluffing. David’s face showed no weakness, only determination. He could have been at a chemin de fer table.

  Finally, Khalid broke. “I would be able to supply you with one of our MD 500s. We’ll take off the Saudi markings. You’ll have to fly it yourself, though. Can one of you do that?”

  David pointed at Daphna, who nodded weakly.

  Khalid shook his head in disbelief. “And if the three of you get yourselves killed in this idiotic effort, then what?”

  “You didn’t know anything about it. You can even behave like king Hussein used to, and act indignant that Israel carried out an action like this on your territory.”

  “What’s the timing of your little excursion to Nasser’s headquarters in the east?”

  “Tomorrow morning. About six hours after you launch your attack on the king’s palace, when there’s still lots of confusion, but it looks as if you’re in control.”

  David took a pencil and piece of paper out of his pocket. From memory, he wrote down the three codes and handed them to Khalid.

  * * *

  They spent the next day in the hotel and out of sight. At midnight, they drove to a small warehouse that the CIA had rented in the name of a phony U.S. oil company. In five years, no one had bothered to change the combination lock on the door, and David quickly let them in. “We used to call it the toy store,” he said.

  First, he located a pair of wristwatches that had a two-way alarm connection. If anyone wearing one of the watches pressed the tiny button next to the stem of the watch, it would set off an alarm on the others watch within a range of five miles. Next, he handed Sagit a small plastic bottle that was labeled liquid sugar in Arabic, but contained a powerful soporific. For several minutes, he rummaged through boxes of papers until he found what he was looking for: Iraqi government stationery with a perfect forgery of Saddam Hussein’s signature, which the CIA had used to pass phony Iraqi messages before and after Operation Desert Storm. He found an Arabic typewriter for Sagit, and above Saddam’s signature she began to type the message: “Mo
hammed Nasser: Please receive my emissary...”

  Suddenly, David gripped her arm tightly, and she stopped typing. “I can’t let you go through with this,” he said to Sagit. “It’s too dangerous for you. I should be the one who goes in first.”

  “We’ve already been over this a thousand times,” she said. “There were a lot more Israelis killed on that bus than just Yael. It’s my job. Besides, this is the only way. You can’t pass for an Iraqi. There’s no alternative. It’s that simple.”

  “But they’ll never accept a woman.”

  “Hanan Ashrawi is a woman, and she’s one of the top people in the Palestinian leadership. Besides, nobody questions Saddam. They’re not surprised when he’s eccentric.”

  “What if Nasser’s people call Baghdad to check on you?”

  “They’ll be worried that lunatic Saddam would be offended by a call questioning his agent. Besides, there will be too much confusion as a result of Khalid’s attack on the royal palace.”

  David wasn’t convinced. He was worried that she’d never get out alive, but he could tell from the look of determination in her eyes that there was no stopping her now. Last year he had lost Yael, and this year it would be Sagit.

  She resumed typing. “...Hanan Abdullah to discuss recent events in your country.”

  She put the letter in an envelope and sealed it with the official Iraqi government seal that David supplied.

  He then handed Sagit and Daphna brand-new cell phones that couldn’t be traced, and he took one for himself. “In case we have to talk.”

  The toy store had an inside locked closet with guns and ammunition that David easily opened with a pocketknife. He found an Uzi and a Beretta for himself, along with ammunition. He tossed Sagit a small pistol. “Put this in your bag in case of an emergency,” he said.

  “What about me?” asked Daphna.

  “You shouldn’t need it, but just in case,” he said, handing her an Uzi as well.

  Sagit tossed the pistol back to him. “It’s too dangerous. They’ll probably search me.”

  “So what? Tell them you brought it because you’re in a rough neighborhood.”

  “It’ll put them on guard. It’ll make it more likely they’ll make inquiries of Baghdad. It’s a risk I don’t want to take.”

  “Damn, you’re stubborn.”

  “I understand these people. I know how they react. Besides, they’ll have enough weapons in the compound for a small army. If I get into trouble, I’ll take one of them.”

  “Yeah, just like that.”

  When he realized that he wouldn’t be able to budge her, he handed her a small, thin metal object that resembled a hair clip.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “It’s a poison dart, made of plastic so it won’t set off metal detectors. You can wear it in your hair. If it penetrates the skin, the result is immediate death. It’s something you can use in an emergency.”

  “You worry too much,” she said, as she put it in her hair.

  The tension was getting to him as he felt the full impact of what they were doing. “Too bad,” he snapped. “I’ve gotten attached to you. I don’t want to lose you.”

  * * *

  An hour later, they met Khalid’s mole on the second floor of the blind woman’s café. They didn’t ask his name. He didn’t offer it. Sweating heavily the entire time of their meeting, he drew them a detailed map of Nasser’s compound. Typically, defenses were light and there were very few people in the compound, the mole explained. The terrorist leader was a recluse. “He is moody and introspective. His compound is isolated. He dislikes having many people around.”

  The mole listened passively when Sagit told him in Arabic that two hours after Khalid’s attack on the palace he should tell Nasser that he had received a call from Baghdad stating that an emissary named Hanan Abdullah would be coming in by helicopter. As David studied the map, he targeted the location where he and Daphna could drop Sagit outside the compound, and then the inside courtyard where they would pick her up with her prisoner, Nasser.

  * * *

  The helicopter was a spanking new MD 500, accommodating a single pilot and four passengers, powered by a powerful Allison turboshaft engine and equipped with TOW missiles. Though the Apache had been her usual helicopter, Daphna had flown MD 500s on a couple of occasions in the Israeli air force, and she felt a familiarity as they approached the helicopter. Suddenly, her knees began knocking, and she was perspiring. David sensed what she was feeling. “You can do it,” he said. “You can do it.”

  Daphna saw her old copilot Yuri’s face in her mind. She heard his anguished cries. She saw the back of his head flowing with blood. She was behind him at the controls of the Apache. It was spinning wildly near the Lebanese border. There were trees. A crash landing was the only way. She aimed for the tallest and thickest tree, and…

  “C’mon, Daphna, you can do it.”

  “I don’t know, David. I just don’t know.”

  “Close your eyes for a minute and think about your mother. What she was like before Nasser and his men killed her.”

  “I’ll try,” she said weakly.

  Sagit and David held their breath as Daphna climbed up awkwardly and reluctantly and sat behind the controls, fighting her demons all the way. They followed her into the helicopter and stowed their personal items under their seats. Daphna’s hands were shaking, and her eyes were blinking. With clammy palms, she started the engine, and they both gave a sigh of relief.

  Sagit turned to David and handed him a small piece of paper.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “All of Margaret Joyner’s telephone numbers. Home, office and cell phone.”

  “For what?”

  “In case something happens to me, and you have to reach her.”

  David touched her cheek. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. After this mission’s over, we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, and you’re going to wear that little orange bikini for me until it falls apart.”

  “That’s a deal,” she said, trying to force a smile, but grimly adding, “if I make it.”

  “If you don’t think you will,” he said, “we should stop now. Nothing’s worth that price. Let’s go somewhere, anywhere on this globe, and spend the rest of our lives together. When we were you at St. Michaels, you made a list of places we should go together. Let’s use that list starting right now.”

  Her face was unemotional, set in stone. She had returned to her role as the experienced Mossad agent. Nothing else mattered. “Sorry, that’s not an option any longer.” Her voice was cold and brittle. “At least until this is over. You missed your chance.”

  He looked at Daphna, who was more firmly in control of her emotions now.

  “Ready to go?” Daphna asked.

  “Ready,” David and Sagit said in unison.

  As they took off, he thought about what Sagit had told him in UAE. Moshe had recruited them about the same time, “Yael, myself and a girl by the name of Leora...” He glanced over at Sagit. He had lost her. She was staring straight ahead, in another world. He could read her mind. She was convinced that she would never be able to capture Nasser alive, and that she would die, but she was hoping to take Nasser with her.

  Well, I won’t let it happen, he vowed.

  The helicopter roared and vibrated as Daphna lifted off into a perfect robin’s egg blue sky.

  Chapter 19

  James Knight, the President’s press secretary, moved hesitantly to the podium in front of the White House press room. God, how he hated making these statements when he had so little in the way of facts. The press people would skewer him. Initially, he had hoped that the lateness of the hour, 2 a.m. Washington time, would mean that he’d have a small audience, but when he thought about the magnitude of the story involved, he realized how futile that hope was. There was pandemonium in the room.

  In a voice smooth and polished from daily sessions with two different speech coaches, he began r
eading a prepared statement:

  “At 5:10 a.m. Saudi Arabia time today, a military force led by Saudi Colonel Abul Khalid launched an attack on the residence of the Saudi king and royal family. Fighting was initially fierce, but within two hours, the king ordered his personal guard to surrender. The vast majority of the Saudi army, air force and Navy have apparently joined Khalid’s forces, who have now gained control of the palace and key facilities in the country.

  “There has been no damage to the Saudi oil fields. Colonel Khalid has promised a democratic regime and has called for free and open elections as soon as stability has returned to the country. Thus far, Shiite and fundamentalist leaders have not made any public statement.

  President Waltham is watching developments closely. He has consulted with other major world leaders and warned other foreign governments against any intervention.

  And that’s all I have to say.”

  Reporters were on their feet screaming out questions. The first one Knight heard was the first one he had expected:

  “James, will we be intervening militarily on the side of the king?”

  Knight was ready with the carefully crafted answer. “The President has ordered all American troops in the area to be on alert. Two of our aircraft carriers are on their way to Saudi Arabia. As of right now, no military intervention by our government is planned in what we view as purely a Saudi internal affair.”

  * * *

  Half a world away, Sagit stepped out of the helicopter and gave David a small wave as Daphna lifted off to take the chopper back to the desert to wait for her signal. Sagit was convinced that she would never see him again. Walking the quarter of a mile to Nasser’s compound, through blowing sand whipped up by the helicopter, she wasn’t nervous. An eerie calm had taken hold of her.

  She thought about Yael. She thought about the mangled bodies in the debris of Bus eighteen. She thought about the innocent pedestrians maimed because the bomb contained rusty steel nails inside to magnify the damage. She thought about children who no longer had parents, and a sense of righteous rage overcame any fear that she had. She thought about Yael and Leora. The three of them were “Moshe’s girls.” She thought about friends of hers who had died in Arab Israeli wars and in other terrorist incidents over the years. She would be joining them in a portion of what her grandfather had called “Ha’alom Haba,” populated by Jews who had given their lives so future generations of Israelis could thrive in the land of their ancestors. That thought gave her peace.

 

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