by Brad Taylor
“So, you put in Makalo Lenatha as prime minister, and he repays you with favorable diamond concessions, is that it?”
“Yes. In a nutshell. The current prime minister is no babe in the woods. He has enough corruption charges against him to sink the Titanic. He’s just skilled in deflecting attention. We remove him, provide the evidence, and Lenatha, as the deputy prime minister, steps in. An easy coup.”
“What if General Mosebo decides he’d rather be in charge? He’s the one who controls the monopoly of violence. He’s got the LDF Special Forces on his side. Which is being charitable in the description of that unit.”
“He’s on board, and those men are going to be the bulwark of the mission. All he wants is to remain as the head of the Lesotho Defence Force. The prime minister has demanded he retire, and he doesn’t want to. Lenatha has told him that if he’ll play ball, he can remain in charge of the LDF. That’s all he wants. The prime minister was stupid to force the general’s hand.”
Tyler slowly nodded, then said, “What about the opposition party? The ones who stormed the streets last year?”
Eli snapped his head to him, and Tyler said, “You didn’t think I’d get involved without a little bit of research, did you? What about the do-gooder party that everyone loves? The one that everyone wants in power? What if they come into play? It won’t be a bloodless coup. It’ll be a bloodbath. Can you withstand that on the evening news?”
Eli sat heavily in a chair and said, “Mosebo has taken care of their leader. They are no longer a force.”
Tyler toyed with a necklace on the wall, his back to Eli. He said, “Taken care of him.”
Eli said, “None of this is clean. Don’t tell me you’ve grown a conscience.”
Tyler turned around and said, “I’m just judging success, because whatever happens, I want to get paid.” He bored his eyes into Eli and said, “And you’ve not given me a whit of confidence that you can do that.”
11
Eli Cohen leaned back in his chair and waved an arm, saying, “You’ll be paid. If not in what you want, I’ll do it in cash.”
“I don’t want cash. I can get cash anywhere, with much, much less risk. I want the triggers. You said you could do that, and if you’re telling me my alternative is a cash payment, I’m out.”
“I can get them.”
“How? You’ve never said. Are they Israeli? Are you stealing them from here, or what?”
“No.” Eli sighed, then said, “Okay, I’ll tell you something I’d hoped to keep hidden. Before I was a diamond merchant, before I followed in my father’s footsteps, I was in LEKEM. You know it?”
“No. Never heard of it.”
“We were the intelligence agency tasked with gleaning nuclear secrets for the Israeli nuclear weapons program. We traveled far and wide, stealing whatever industrial secrets we could to build our capability, sometimes by subterfuge, and other times with witting partners.”
“The United States?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway, when we were done, we helped South Africa with Project Circle—the development of their atomic bomb. We were successful. They built six of them. In 1989, with apartheid ripping the country apart, the president, de Klerk, gave them up. He dismantled them. The bombs no longer exist, but your triggers do.”
“And how can you get them?”
“I told you, I was LEKEM. My contacts remain. I can get them, I promise.”
“I need the actual Krytron triggers. Not some bullshit. I need the real deal.”
“I understand.” Eli turned his chair and faced Tyler head-on. “I must ask, if you don’t mind, who you intend to sell those triggers to. They are incredibly hard to manufacture, with tolerances that very few technologically sophisticated states can produce. Which means you aren’t selling them to the West. They could make their own.”
“Don’t worry about that. I have a buyer. I don’t ask about your diamond crap, you don’t ask about my sales.”
“But you did ask about my ‘diamond crap.’ Tell me it isn’t Iran.”
Tyler chuckled, then said, “It isn’t Iran.”
Eli nodded, saying, “Good. There are steps I won’t take.”
Tyler said, “Don’t get your hopes up just yet. I haven’t agreed to help. I still don’t know what you want.”
Eli went to his office, came back, and passed a sheet of paper across the table. He said, “This is what they need.”
Tyler looked at the first line and said, “An aircraft with crew? HALO rigs? You want me to do more than just supply armament?”
“You said you could.”
Tyler placed the paper on the desk and said, “Who are these guys?”
“It’s a company called Pamwe Chete. The CEO is Colonel Lloyd Armstrong. He was a Rhodesian Selous Scout. You’ve heard of them?”
Tyler nodded, saying, “Yeah. I’ve heard of them. Guys who used to penetrate denied areas acting as the enemy guerrillas during Rhodesia’s civil war. Pure balls.”
“Yes. That’s correct. When Rhodesia fell, he joined the South African Defence Force, in the Reconnaissance Commandos. He has extensive experience in this type of work. He’s an expert.”
Tyler nodded and said, “Okay, it sounds like you’ve got a force that isn’t a clownfest, but what was the complication you mentioned earlier?”
Eli rubbed his face, glanced out the window, then said, “It appears we’ve been breached.”
Tyler was floored. “Breached? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“There was a man in Soweto. He was following our team, and we captured him.”
“And? What did he say?” Tyler knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the men who’d captured him wouldn’t be squeamish in the questioning, and the detainee would have talked.
“He held out for a long time. So long that the team feels he really didn’t know anything. He had no knowledge of our operation and was apparently sent because of some shady dealings here, in the diamond exchange.”
“You mean shady dealings with you?”
Eli snapped upright and said, “No. My name was never mentioned. Ever.”
“Well, he was either following the contractors or he was following your man. Since he was talking about the diamond exchange, it seems pretty simple why he was there.”
“It wasn’t me, per se. He was there on some fishing expedition. We’re not even sure he was from the Israeli government. I think it’s some investigation that’s much bigger than just my company, but we don’t know for sure. We’re not sure of anything except he has no knowledge of our coup.”
“So he’s dead?”
“No. Johan—the man who captured him from our team—feels it’s better to keep him alive. As leverage.”
“Leverage for what?”
“In case we’re wrong.”
“Well, that’s fucking great. You believe you’ve been compromised, so you’re keeping him as a bargaining chip? Why the hell should I continue?”
Eli grinned and said, “Because you want the triggers.”
Tyler pulled back a chair and finally sat down. He said, “What’s the team doing here? Who’s Stanko meeting?”
“The man has a partner. She might raise an alarm if he doesn’t contact her. We believe she’s his control. She is expendable. He’s only good as leverage as long as it’s unknown he’s captured. They’re here to clean that up.”
“He’s working for someone higher than just one partner. Someone’s paying him. Eventually, they’ll know.”
“Yes, but not before we’ve accomplished our mission. We aren’t keeping him for a month.”
Tyler played with a pen on the desk, spinning it in his hands. He finally nodded, saying, “Stanko is good at this sort of thing. He’s the best at cutting leaks.”
Eli smiled, relieved to have Tyler on board, thinking of the profit
s he would realize with his new diamond tenders. He stood up and held out his hand. When Tyler shook it, he said, “Mazal u’bracha.”
Tyler let go, saying, “What’s that mean?”
“It’s the traditional way of the diamond market. It means the deal is sealed and I stake my honor on its completion.”
Eli said it with pride, not giving a thought to the fact that much more than his honor was at stake. He would learn that soon.
12
Pike pulled in behind the Crown Vic, two cars back, and said, “Give me a read. What’s he doing?”
Looking at the tablet in her lap, a satellite feed of a moving map of Tel Aviv scrolling on the screen, Jennifer said, “He’s definitely not going back to the hotel. He’s headed south, toward Jaffa.”
“Okay, that’s good. He’s got a mission.”
“Or he’s going shopping in the flea market.”
Pike turned off the primary highway, still three cars back, and began winding through the surface streets. He said, “What flea market?”
Jennifer looked up from her tablet and said, “Do you really not do any mission prep before you travel?”
“Well, I packed the tech kit Creed gave me. And I dug out Shoshana and Aaron’s phone numbers. Does that count?”
“No. It doesn’t. Jaffa has a flea market that spans city blocks. People go there to shop.”
Pike spun through another intersection and said, “That fucker isn’t shopping for souvenirs. Trust me. What else is in Jaffa?”
Chagrined, Jennifer said, “You should really do some research before we fly.”
“I’ll do it tonight. Give me a prediction.”
She thought a moment, then said, “He’s either going to the port or he’s going to the old city. He’s meeting someone, and that someone isn’t his demographic. He’s trying to blend in, and he needs an area that has a hodgepodge of people, where they’re used to seeing a melting pot and the crowd will be eclectic. Somewhere he won’t have to explain why he’s there.”
“Why Jaffa and not Tel Aviv?”
“Tel Aviv is a city, with all that implies. It’s a nineteenth-twentieth-century construct, with areas spliced out like the diamond district. Tel Aviv looks big, but the four square blocks you work in include everyone doing your business. Fashion district, diamond district, industrial section, it’s like every other city on earth. Jaffa is different. It’s one of the oldest ports in the world, if not the oldest. It’s literally where Jonah put to sea in the Old Testament, before he was swallowed by the whale. Now it’s full of art galleries and tourists. It’s the place to do a meeting if you were getting together with someone unlike you.”
She saw Pike consider what she’d told him. He said, “Not bad, little Jedi.”
She said, “It’s not rocket science, Rain Man. If you’d do your due diligence in mission prep, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
He flicked his eyes to her and let a grin slip out. “That’s why I have you.”
She grinned back and said, “Thank God for that.”
They hit a traffic circle with a clock tower on the far side, and Jennifer said, “This is the outskirts of the old fortress walls of Jaffa. If I’m right, he’ll be getting out soon.”
The area was packed, the cars all slowed to five miles an hour dodging the pedestrians. Pike said, “Shit, no parking around here. If he ditches, you’re going foxtrot behind him.”
She packed the tablet and nodded, now into the mission. But not enough to keep her from educating Pike on a little history. They inched forward, and she said, “See that building? The one with the bars?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s where they kept Eichmann after they captured him. And that facade over there—the one that looks like the front of a building with nothing behind it? That’s where the Irgun blew up a car bomb fighting the British mandate.”
Pike scrunched his eyes and said, “Jesus, how much reading did you do?”
The Crown Vic pulled over, and Jennifer saw the passenger door open. She leaned in and kissed Pike on the cheek, saying, “Enough to know that Jesus wasn’t ever here. And that I’d like to explore after this is done.”
He smiled and said, “Okay, okay. I get it. Don’t lose him.”
She grinned and said, “Promises, promises,” then leapt out, hearing Pike say, “Make sure your phone beacon is on. I’ll be there shortly.”
Following Ivan ended up being surprisingly easy, with the crowds from all over the world allowing her to blend in seamlessly. His choice of location helped her as much as him. He went straight past the clock tower, walking by the old city gate, and then cut in, headed to the port.
He went uphill, entering a park full of tourists out to enjoy the brisk winter air, and she paused, texting Pike.
You find parking?
She saw the bubbles on her phone, then: Yeah. On the way.
She texted, He’s in a park. I have him, but if he meets in here, I can’t get close.
She received, I see you on my phone. Stay on him.
She darted across the street and entered the park behind him, the concrete paths winding upward. Ivan gave no indication he was doing anything other than heading to a destination, and he clearly knew the terrain. He’d been here before.
He crossed over a bridge full of tourists, all touching a sign of the zodiac and gazing out to the ocean. She passed a placard proclaiming the WISHING BRIDGE and held back, letting him get to the other side. When he did, she darted across, wondering if she should slap her hands on the Virgo plate and throw out a plea for a successful mission. Or maybe a wish to explore this town when she wasn’t carrying a weapon and following a killer.
She saw the symbol of Virgo and almost stopped, but a passel of schoolkids was around it, all chattering. She kept going, thinking she probably could have used that chance to put a hex on Pike to get off his ass with their relationship.
Where did that come from?
The thought came to her completely unbidden. She banished it and jogged a bit to catch up with her target, focusing on the mission.
Ivan left the park and entered the old city, an ancient citadel of stone that looked like something out of Robin Hood. It was peppered with small artisan shops selling jewelry and other things, and Jennifer could smell the history and felt a longing to slow down to enjoy it.
But that wouldn’t happen on this day. Ivan began winding through the narrow alleys, skipping down the steps two at a time and glancing at his watch.
He’s late. Which would make her surveillance harder, because one person moving fast was normal. Two, spaced apart, was definitely something people would notice.
She lost him at the bottom of a curving line of stairs and sprinted to catch up, spilling out onto a promenade of the ancient port of Jaffa, fishermen still working their trade like they had for a millennium. She pulled up short and glanced left and right, seeing tourists from the world over enjoying the setting.
Damn it.
She had to make a choice. Left or right. She decided left, toward the old port warehouses that now held restaurants and shops. Right was nothing but the promenade and would be looping back the way he’d come.
She moved at a rapid clip, scanning each café and shop. She had almost reached the end and was about to turn around when she caught her target talking to a hostess. She glanced at the sign outside the restaurant, THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA. She pulled up short, turning to the port and allowing him to enter.
The restaurant had an outdoor area that was enclosed in plastic to protect against the winter weather. Inside she could see a bustling enclave full of tourists.
Perfect.
She watched the hostess lead him inside, going right. Jennifer texted Pike her location, then approached when the hostess returned.
“Table for two? My husband is late, but I’d like to ge
t out of the wind now, if that’s okay.”
The hostess smiled and said, “So you don’t want to sit outside, I take it?”
She pointed toward the right, saying, “No, I think that little nook over there would be perfect.”
13
Sitting at a small four-top table crammed into what looked originally to be a tool-storage area in the age of sails, Jennifer placed her back to the rough wall and inventoried the target table. Including Ivan, there were five men, all Caucasian.
When he’d approached, the four had stood up and introduced themselves, so she knew it was an initial meeting. Ivan was dressed in slacks and a jacket, looking like a businessman. The four he met looked more like adventure travelers, with loose-fitting shirts, cargo pants, and hiking boots. Given Ivan’s position in ParaBellum, she was sure they were military contractors. But from where? And why were they here in Israel? Was Tyler brokering a deal with the Israelis for some type of armament? If so, why was Ivan just now meeting them? If they were here at the behest of ParaBellum, wouldn’t he have brought known employees? And the biggest question: What did the diamond exchange have to do with anything?
She was brought out of her thoughts by Pike sliding onto the bench next to her, breathing slightly heavily. She said, “Need some more gym time?”
He said, “I went the wrong way down one of those damn alleys. I had to make up ground. That place is a maze, and dead reckoning using your GPS beacon wasn’t the best idea.”
He pulled his knapsack to his lap and opened it, saying, “What do we have?”
She told him what she knew, and he said, “Penetration options?”
“Haven’t seen anything specific, but I’m sure they all have phones.”
She watched him pull out what looked like a typical smartphone, but with a small antenna jutting out of the side. He booted up the device, saw a myriad of different apps, then set it on the table. He began dialing his real smartphone, saying, “Creed’s going to have to walk me through this. I’ll waste the entire meeting trying to get it to work.”