Waterworks

by Jack Winnick

  Just this morning, a woman had brought him some amazing and useful information. He stared at his officers as he raged: “The information we have on the Americans’ defense is near useless! We now know our master translator is a counterfeit, in the pay of the enemy; our conclusions regarding their expectations of our attack points are of no value. ‘Heydar’ was just a clever impersonator, we now know, and the enemy is probably aware that we know. Therefore, they also know that we are aware that the ‘plan of defense’ they sent us is a ruse. So, they will assume we will scrap our scheme of attacking one of the pumping stations on the peninsula!”

  He saw the confusion on the faces of his officers. “Never mind all that,” he declared, smacking his whip against his boot even harder. “We will best them yet. They, the Americans, will conclude that we will, instead, attack the Hetch Hetchy reservoir. After all, it is even more tempting than the peninsula pumping stations. The decision of their politicians to open the reservoir to public pleasure boats will be an overwhelming enticement, they will reason, to pour in our poison from one or more of these little boats. Americans, as you know, have more money and time on their hands than they know what to do with. This Fourth of July will bring boaters by the hundreds to this, the largest freshwater lake within driving distance from San Francisco and the whole Bay Area.”

  The colonels marveled at the cleverness of their leader! He was beating the Americans at their own game. “While they may set up a secondary defense on the peninsula, they will have no idea, now that their agent has been neutralized, which particular pumping station to guard. We shall, as they say, ‘catch them with their pants down.’”

  The general paused at the sight of one of the colonels waving his hand. It was the youngest of the lot, Col. Sagib Moroneh. “Yes, Sagib, my friend, what is it?”

  The slender, light-complexioned man, a hero of the Iraq War, asked in a most obsequious manner: “But won’t the Americans be suspicious when they find no evidence at all of an incursion at the Hetch Hetchy reservoir on July Fourth?”

  “Very good point, Sagib. Yes, we have considered that. So, we will have a small contingent of resourceful men there at the reservoir, with polonium, along with the means to scatter it into the water. It will be a suicide squad, of course, ready to spend eternity in Paradise for their sacrifice. They will no doubt be captured or killed by the Americans. But by then, they will find it is too late. Our bona fide team will have laced the peninsula with the bulk of the poison.”

  Chapter 24

  Lara called Tom the next night. “None too soon,” Tom said immediately, a dreadful foreboding in his voice. “He’s been taken, I’m afraid.” She sank limply down onto her bed. All sorts of images appeared to her, none of them good.

  “What’s happened, Tom?” she whispered. “Is he . . . ?”

  “No, we don’t think so,” he replied, reading her mind. “They took him at work, we’re pretty sure . . .”

  “How did you . . . ?”

  “The mobile phone, you know, the agency one? Like I told you, it’s booby trapped. It must have been taken from him, and one of their techies used it, or tried to and . . .”

  “It blew? You’re sure it wasn’t Uri being clumsy?”

  “No, he knew better. It would only go off if someone with another handprint tried to use it, or open it. It’s very new, not something they would be expecting . . . we got the signal just a while ago. Someone’s got a cyanide present in their ear, eye, or hand. Uri failed to check in, so he’s probably prisoner . . .”

  “You don’t think they—”

  “Unlikely. If they found him, they know he’s be too big a prize to just discard . . . sorry, that’s ill-put of me.”

  “Do you have any idea where . . . ?”

  “Not yet, but soon, I’m sure,” he said hopefully. “We have a plan in the works. It includes you.”

  “How . . . what do you mean?”

  There was a brief pause as Tom decided what to tell her and how to detail her anticipated involvement. “He’s been working with their military operations division the whole time you’ve been with their military intelligence. It seemed an ideal setup.”

  “Until he got caught,” Lara added cynically.

  “I admit it looks bad at the moment, but we have a lot on our side.”

  “Such as . . . ?”

  “They know very little about him and so are not going to be hasty.”

  “You mean they won’t kill him right away.”

  “That’s right, actually. They’ll figure they have more to gain by keeping him alive, and—”

  “And torturing him until he can’t take any more.”

  “Wait a minute! In the first place, killing him gets them nothing—and Uri’s one tough guy. If they have this operation in the works, they’re going to want to know what they’re up against, and a dead agent is useless to them.”

  “But torture . . . oh my God, Tom, do you know what they’re capable of?”

  “Which means we have to act fast, use our advantage here—”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They don’t have any idea about you . . . I mean, your identity. They have no suspicion that there is another asset inside their system, especially in military intel.”

  “Meaning?”

  Tom was relieved to hear that she was still open to suggestions. “Meaning their military operations branch is obliged to bring the intel division into the game as soon as there is a breach of security. Our branch works the same way . . .”

  “Wait a minute.” Lara immediately began thinking of the possibilities Tom was suggesting. “You think they’re going to ask intel to help interrogate . . . ?”

  “I think it’s highly likely. After all, they don’t want to lose this gigantic opportunity. And they’re very happy with your work so far, right?” There was a long pause as Lara considered this.

  “Yes, I’ll grant you that, but . . .”

  “So, they have this huge operation underway, needing all the intel they can get, and here pops this opportunity—”

  “But isn’t that curiously convenient? Suspicious? Here comes this translator out of the blue—”

  “Happens all the time. In a situation where they need all the intel they can get, why would they turn down something like you? There isn’t the slightest hint of collusion between you and him . . . right?”

  Lara thought hard about that. He was right; there wasn’t any connection at all suggesting they were even acquainted. They arrived at two separate locations with totally different backgrounds and resumes. “So . . . what do we do?”

  “I say give it a day or so. The two generals involved, Gharoub and Alirezeh, are actually good buddies; went to school together . . .”

  Lara listened eagerly as Tom described her next dangerous assignment.

  Chapter 25

  It was less than a full day before Lara received the expected green light from General Gharoub. It actually came from her “friend,” Major Asani. She should have expected it, seeing as he had been grooming her for the past week. He summoned her to his office the very next morning, smiling both in satisfaction and expectation. Something was indeed afoot.

  “Dear Ms. Haddad,” he began formally, but with high anticipation glowing in his voice, “an amazing thing has just occurred. Well, yesterday, actually. Our esteemed general has heard from our ‘cousins’ over in Operations.”

  She knew he was speaking of the military operations division. She sat up in her chair, full of excitement.

  “It seems they have found a usurper in their midst, a spy for the Americans. And they now hope that we can extract the truth from this man. Of course, General Alirezeh, their commandant, has come immediately to us, knowing of your expertise in both Hebrew and English. This man, it appears likely, is either with Mossad or the CIA. You and I will get first crack at him.”

  Lara had to keep her eagerness under control. This must be Uri!

  “He was reported by one of our female counter
espionage agents.” Asani must have seen Lara’s reaction to the hint of a sexual liaison in his voice; the major picked it up at once. “Oh, I’m not suggesting any impropriety occurred on her part. We certainly don’t allow that sort of behavior with our agents. We do give them certain latitude, but . . .”

  Lara struggled to keep her composure. She hoped the major interpreted her discomfort as objection to a woman in the employ of the Iranian government using this means to extract information. “Of course, Major,” she finally said.

  “In any case, this man was found with the tools of his trade in his possession. Along with, I should add, a booby-trapped mobile phone that exploded as it was being examined. General Alirezeh is very distressed at the loss of one of his top men; he is eager to have this spy fully debriefed before being executed.”

  Lara twisted in her chair; she hoped her unease came across as a lack of pleasure at the idea of execution. She was, after all, supposed to be a desk agent, not a killer.

  Major Asani was actually pleased by this show of femininity from his lovely officer. He continued to hope for more than formal interaction with her. “Unless you have a strong objection, we should make haste to the prison where this spy is being held. Our pending plan against the water plant requires us to take immediate action.”

  Lara just nodded her assent as the major rose, signifying they were to be on their way.

  “If you will just bring your . . . ah, necessities, then, I’ll drive us myself. The holding facility is, fortunately, just a few miles away.”

  Lara rose quickly, her head filled with the list of essentials she needed. She had already gone through a “rehearsal” in her mind, hoping for just this sort of opportunity. She had, for example, brought her “B” weapon in her bag. The B stood for bamboo. It was constructed of a single shaft of plastic that was similar to bamboo but stronger, some four inches long; it appeared to be a lipstick or other cosmetic in a shiny plastic container. It contained no metal, thus allowing it to pass through a metal detector. But once the cap was removed, a three-inch-long spike flipped into place, honed to a razor-sharp point. Used properly, it was capable of imparting sudden death. This had to be her only weapon . . .

  She followed the major briskly to his sedan. On the short trip to the military holding facility, he briefed her on their mission. “The spy is being held at a secret jail just outside the city. There are no markings on the building, and there are only two entrances; one of these is an emergency exit only. This gives it the look of a low-security enclosure, not a high-security prison . . . to keep it from appearing a target for antigovernment zealots. We’ve found that the less-conspicuous enclosures are the least apt to be attacked during any sort of demonstration.”

  He parked the sedan in a space reserved for high-ranking military, placing a placard in the windscreen. With the major in the lead, they entered the front door, guarded by a single sentry armed with an automatic rifle. He recognized Major Asani at once, nodding discreetly to him. Lara, however, had to sign in at the desk with a prim-looking female sergeant, armed with a 9mm pistol. She looked back and forth between Asani and Lara meaningfully, as though this were not the first time he had brought in female visitors. Although the major was allowed to keep his automatic pistol, Lara had to have her bag inspected and then passed through a metal detector. To her great relief, there was no problem with her phone. Had it been otherwise, the mission would have ended—badly.

  “Do you need an escort, Major?” the sentry asked formally. Asani just shrugged and moved into the secure area; he had been here many times. A buzzer sounded as the two visitors entered a dark concrete corridor with a single closed-circuit monitor and floodlight at the first bend in the hallway. Lara could see ahead with the aid of the single light bulb, all the way to an exit about forty feet ahead. They passed quickly to the door leading out of the tunnel and, presumably, to the holding cells.

  The major rang the bell on the door, giving rise to a loud electronic yelp. There was a buzz as the door opened to a well-lit room with three military men seated at a desk. They jumped to attention as the visitors entered.

  “Major Asani, good to see you! We have been expecting you. And . . . your, uh, associate?”

  “This is my assistant, Ms. Haddad.”

  The soldiers eyed Lara with more than military interest.

  “She will help interrogate your captive,” Asani barked at the first man, a corporal, gruffly.

  “Of course, Major.” The second man, a lieutenant, rapidly came to attention. One did not question the famous major. The lieutenant motioned for the corporal to open the single cell door. He leaped to the task, unlocking the door with a key on his belt as the third man, a sergeant, stood behind a desk. Lara took a second to look around the small facility. Sure enough, there to the left of the cell were the red handle and sign for the emergency exit. Lucky these guys have taken our safety courses, she thought.

  Lara held her breath as the cell opened slowly, revealing a disheveled, unshaven Uri, his eyes blazing as he took in the scene. His face was badly bruised and his good eye blackened; it was clear he had been pummeled with a blunt object. “So, this is our American spy,” Major Asani spat out derisively. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Uri just stood there impassively.

  “You have no statement?” the major challenged him. Uri said nothing but gave Lara a scornful grin, as if to say, “You Iranians require the aid of women, I see.”

  Asani told the lieutenant to prepare the interrogation room and turned on his heel, motioning Lara to follow him back into the tunnel. “We’ll be right back,” he said to the guards. “I can see this is a tough guy; at least he thinks he is. I have some ‘tools’ back in the car.” The tunnel door closed behind the two visitors as they started back down the gloomy, concrete corridor.

  Lara gave Asani a look of silent appreciation as they started back toward the entrance. She had taken the few moments in the interim to remove her weapon from her bag and secrete it in her left hand. “You certainly know how to handle these people!” she said as she lightly took the major’s arm in her right hand, moving closer to him, allowing her body to graze ever-so-slightly against his. It was their first physical contact, and as she’d anticipated, that was all he needed. He reached around gruffly, grasping her by the back of the neck, bringing his face down to hers.

  This is it, Lara thought, my one and only chance. She brought her left hand around his neck, dropping her open bag at her feet. His hot, tobacco-laden breath wafted onto her face as she pretended to yield to his advance, her lips open in response, her right hand around his waist, pressing into him. His mouth opened in anticipation; she could feel the hinge of his jaw dropping to allow him to thrust his tongue into her mouth.

  And that was her signal. Her left hand, holding the deadly spike, drove it inward and down, directly into his now-exposed medulla oblongata, the nerve center for his heart and lungs. The spike did its job with remarkable swiftness; he gasped once, stiffened, then collapsed, gagging, onto the floor. Lara withdrew the spike and slipped it back into her bag. Simultaneously, she yelled for assistance from the soldiers.

  “Help, someone, please! Something’s happened to the major! Help!” She grabbed his keys, stuffing them into her bag. Finally, she removed his pistol and silencer from his holster, pushing them under her belt. Hopefully, the tunnel was dark enough for no one to notice.

  There was the jangle of the alarm as the lieutenant and sergeant raced into the tunnel, pistols at the ready. Thankfully, they blocked open the door so they could easily return.

  “Yes, miss, what is it? What’s happened?” the lieutenant asked anxiously.

  “I don’t know. He just collapsed. Maybe a heart attack?” She appeared totally distraught.

  “There’s no blood,” the sergeant reported, shining a flashlight on the body. “Must be something internal. Stroke, maybe?”

  The lieutenant gazed at the motionless Asani as the sergeant turned the body over, s
earching for wounds but not knowing quite what to do. As the two soldiers looked at each other for ideas, Lara slipped out of the light from the overhead bulb and screwed the silencer onto the major’s pistol. As the soldiers examined the body more carefully, two drops of blood suddenly oozed out of the wound on Asani’s neck. Lara had no choice: she pumped a quick round into each of their faces as they turned to her. Without another sound, the two men dropped to the tunnel floor. She immediately picked up their pistols and stuffed them under her belt, keeping the major’s silenced weapon at the ready.

  Hearing the commotion, the corporal, who had stayed back at the prison enclosure, yelled into the gloom, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Help, Corporal, please, we need help!” Lara headed back to the door, knowing he had a key, presumably the only one, to Uri’s cell.

  Seeing the silenced automatic in her hand, the confused young man backed into the enclosure. At her visual command, he unlatched his holster, dropping it on the floor as he moved away toward Uri’s cell. Lara saw the key on his belt as she put the muzzle of her gun in front of his face. “Stay calm, Corporal, and you won’t get hurt.”

  The young man swallowed hard as he stared at the enormous-looking weapon.

  “Now open the cell door.” He did as she ordered, never taking his eyes far from the silencer staring back at him.

  A relieved Uri exited the cell, picked up the corporal’s weapon and holster, and strapped them on himself. He hugged Lara for the briefest of seconds, saying unnecessarily, “We need to go!” and headed for the emergency exit. He banged it open with his arm, setting off a barrage of sirens that could be heard for miles, or so it seemed. Lara pointed to the major’s sedan, and the strange-looking threesome headed straight for it, Lara leading the way and Uri controlling the frightened young corporal.