Return to Armageddon

by Gar Wilson

  "That's all circumstantial evidence," the prime minister remarked. "However, it is more convincing when it is linked together. But, as I recall, the Assassins were a mercenary outfit. Who would have hired them?"

  "Probably a terrorist outfit," Katz answered.

  "We don't have enough details yet to make an educated guess."

  "You may be right," the prime minister admitted.

  "Your Mossad director doesn't believe it's possible," Yakov said. "And he thinks I'm paranoid because I'm convinced there's a spy in one of the intelligence networks — either Mossad or Sheruth Modiin."

  "He thinks the Egyptians are behind it?"

  "Yes," Katz confirmed. "If you're assassinated, there's a good chance Mossad will retaliate against Egypt. If enough members of Parliament agree to a major military action, Israel could go to war..."

  "Your honesty is always refreshing, Yakov," the prime minister laughed. "You're not really concerned about me. The possibility that my assassination could lead to war is what worries you."

  "I am concerned about your safety, sir," Katz corrected. "But one life — yours, mine, anyone's — is not as important as preserving our peace with Egypt. We can't allow Israel to be tricked into an unjust war."

  "I agree, Colonel," the prime minister answered. "And I will tell everyone what 1 think at the press conference tomorrow morning — the conference your Canadian friend tried to talk me out of."

  "I don't think you should have a conference at this time either, sir," Katz stated. "You're well protected here at the clinic. You're safer here."

  "Safe?" the prime minister said. "No one is ever safe. We thought we were safe huddled together in the ghettos of Europe. Protection in numbers. Safe in our own segregated communities. The Nazis showed us how wrong we were. No one is ever safe."

  "There's no point in inviting death," Katz said. "You shouldn't have that press conference unless you have a burning desire to become a martyr."

  "Would you call Anwar Sadat a martyr?"

  "No one had warned Sadat not to attend that military parade in Nasr City. He had no reason to suspect anyone would try to gun him down that day. I'm warning you now, sir. Just give us a few days and I'm sure we'll be able to locate the Assassins and destroy them."

  "I appreciate your concern," the prime minister said. "But I must insist on the press conference."

  "God in Heaven." Katz rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "You're stubbornness is infuriating. You mentioned Sadat. He risked his life in an effort to make peace with Israel. He was probably murdered for that very reason. Is your reply to his courage and sacrifice to jeopardize the peace treaty by this bullheaded insistence to have a press conference?"

  "It is because of the memory of Anwar Sadat that I must have the conference," the prime minister answered. "J will publicly state that there was an assassination attempt and that it was not the work of the Egyptian government. I won't mention your theory about the Assassins, but I will state that a terrorist organization is responsible. Everyone must know that Egypt and Israel shall remain allies."

  "The speech can wait a day or two longer."

  "No it can't," the prime minister insisted. "I might be dead in a day or two. There is no way to be certain the assassins can't kill me in this very bed or that my heart will hold out two more days."

  Katz sighed, knowing it was futile to try and change the prime minister's mind.

  14

  Gary Manning adjusted the straps of the borrowed shoulder-holster rig and checked the Eagle .357 Magnum pistol. Unlike McCarter, Manning favored a rifle to a handgun. The Canadian had been good with a long gun ever since he started hunting rabbits with a .22 rifle as a youth.

  When Manning had to use a handgun, he liked Magnums because of their long range and reliable knock-down power. He had carried various types of Magnum revolvers such as the Colt Python and the S&W .41 Mag. The Canadian had never handled the Eagle until he test-fired it at the Mossad indoor range.

  The Eagle handled well. It resembled a Colt .45 Government Model but was different because the gun featured a 9-round magazine and fired .357 cartridges. A product of the Israeli Military Industries INC — the Eagle featured combat sights, an adjustable trigger-pull and an ambidextrous safety.

  Manning slid the pistol into the leather sheath under his arm and flipped the transmit switch for a radio-communications set on the desk. He picked up the microphone.

  "Centaur One," he said, speaking into the mike. "This is Control. Do you read me. Over."

  "Glad to see you haven't fallen asleep, Control," David McCarter replied through the loudspeaker. "Read you loud and clear. Over."

  The Briton was piloting a Westland Lynx helicopter, patroling the sky around the area of the Straus Medical Center. McCarter was scanning the ground and buildings below, searching for any suspicious individuals who might be armed with rocket launchers, mortars or other weapons with a long-range capacity capable of presenting a threat to the prime minister.

  "Anything yet? Over," Manning asked.

  "Negative," the Briton replied. "Everything is as quiet as a cemetery. Over."

  "Okay. Catch you later. Over." The Canadian changed frequencies before he transmitted again. "Centaur Two, do you read? Over."

  "Centaur Two," a voice replied. "Nothing has changed here, sir. Over."

  The second guard post consisted of several Israeli troops on foot patrol around the hospital with special emphasis on the rose garden, where the prime minister would deliver his speech.

  "Okay," Manning told Centaur Two. "You guys have had a long night. You'll be relieved in a few more minutes. Stay alert. Over and out."

  Manning made one more call. "Cyclops, this is Control. Do you read? Over?"

  "Cyclops here," Keio Ohara answered. "You're quite clear. Any news, Control? Over."

  "Negative," the Canadian said. "Centaur One and Two haven't detected anything. How about you?"

  Ohara was in charge of supervising the surveillance equipment in the garden. Several cameras had been set up in the area as well as heat detectors and a Land Sonar Wave device designed to register movement.

  "Nothing at all," the Japanese stated. "Over."

  "Maybe Katz is wrong about this," Manning muttered, speaking into the microphone before he realized he still had it in his hand.

  "Perhaps," Ohara said without conviction, well aware that Yakov's hunches were seldom wrong.

  The Canadian moved the microphone and hissed a single four-letter word in disgust. He had been careless. One does not transmit doubts to the troops in the field. Manning reached for the coffee pot and poured himself a fresh cup.

  "The main event will be in two hours, Cyclops," he announced. "Better have somebody else take over the spy gear and get ready to meet the press. Over."

  "Right," Ohara replied. "See you then. Over and out."

  * * *

  Manning watched the reporters enter the rose garden. Keio Ohara was concentrating on the television personnel, inspecting their camera equipment for hidden firearms or explosives. Manning handled the print journalists.

  He took extra care with the Egyptian journalist in the group, carefully checking his ID and comparing the photo with the face.

  "I see security is quite strict since the assassination attempt," Abdul Monsul remarked in thickly accented English as Manning expertly frisked the Egyptian.

  "I hope you understand," the Canadian said, looking at the man's cassette tape recorder. "Mind if I have a look at that?"

  "Of course not," Monsul said, handing Manning the recorder.

  Manning unscrewed the bolts from the back plate of the recorder and checked inside. He found only circuits, transistors and four size-C batteries. The Canadian put the plate back in place and tightened the screws before he returned it to Monsul.

  "Everything okay?" the Egyptian asked.

  "Sorry for the trouble," Manning replied.

  The Israeli prime minister soon emerged from the hospital. Surrounded by Mossad bod
yguards, he shuffled to the center of the garden, where the news representatives had formed a semicircle around a podium. The prime minister stepped behind the lecture stand and prepared to address the assembly.

  Manning continued to suspiciously scan the area. The veteran warrior's sixth sense was setting off a silent alarm. The fear that he had overlooked something important nagged at him as he watched Keio Ohara at the opposite side of the garden. The Japanese turned to face Manning and nodded to assure him everything was all right.

  "Hope you're right, pal," Manning commented as he unhooked a walkie-talkie from his belt.

  Ohara saw him and followed his lead. Manning pressed the switch. "Keio?"

  "Right here," Ohara answered. "Anything wrong?"

  "Nothing I can put my finger on," Manning admitted. "Are you sure all those tv cameras are safe?"

  "Absolutely,'' Ohara confirmed. ''I even checked the podium and microphones for booby traps. All clean."

  "I'd feel better if you headed back to the surveillance center to man the controls there," Manning said. "You're the best man for that sort of thing."

  "Very well," the Japanese replied. "You can handle everything here?"

  "I'm not exactly alone," Manning said. "Mossad has agents posted all over the garden, and Rafael is out in the parking lot checking vehicles as they come in."

  "Might check with him," Ohara suggested. "I haven't heard from him since we got out here."

  "Neither have I." Manning frowned. "I'll get in touch with him. Contact me if anything shows up on the spy cameras."

  "You know it," the Japanese promised as he left.

  Manning pressed the button of his transceiver and tried to contact Encizo.

  There was no reply.

  Manning tried again.

  "Rafael? Do you read me?"

  "I'm here, Gary," the Cuban answered.

  "Had me worried for a minute," Manning admitted.

  "My walkie-talkie didn't want to talkie," Encizo said. "I had to borrow one from a Mossad agent to answer you."

  "Everything looks okay so far," Manning said. "Any problems out there?"

  "Not yet," Encizo said. "We just stopped a couple of Arab reporters and checked them out. They're Egyptians, so we made double sure they weren't armed before we let them go."

  "Egyptians?" Manning questioned. "But there's already an Egyptian here. I checked him out myself. Free-lance guy named Monsul."

  "Should I detain these two just in case?" the Cuban asked.

  Gary Manning scanned the faces of the journalists in the garden, locking for Abdul Monsul. He did not see the Egyptian among the men seated before the prime minister. The Israeli leader began his speech, first in Hebrew and then in English.

  "You have all heard of the attempt on my life," the prime minister declared. "You may have heard that two Egyptians were involved. In fact, these would-be assassins were terrorists with no connection to the friendly government in Cairo. Be warned enemies of peace, yeu will not turn Israel and Egypt against each other..."

  Then Manning located Monsul. The Egyptian sat on a bench apart from the other journalists. He had the cassette recorder in his lap with the back plate removed. The Canadian frowned. He had checked that recorder and found nothing suspicious. Could he have missed something?

  "Gary?" Encizo called via the walkie-talkie in the Canadian's hand.

  "I'm here," Manning spoke hastily.

  "For a second I thought this radio also had run-down batteries," the Cuban remarked.

  "Batteries," Manning whispered. "The goddamn batteries."

  Abdul Monsul removed the four size-C batteries from the back of his tape recorder. He smiled. Soon he would be in paradise for eternity after he completed his holy mission for Lord Hassan. It was the will of Allah that the infidel leader should die and Abdul Monsul had been chosen to dispatch the Jew devil to hell.

  He unscrewed the top off the first battery. It contained less than three ounces of C-4 plastic explosives. Monsul removed the top off another battery that had a similar charge of C-4. The third battery contained a tiny plunger-style detonator, two copper wires and a slender size-AA battery. Finally, he unscrewed the last battery and gingerly extracted two special blasting caps. Monsul attached the wires to the caps and inserted them into the C-4. Then he hooked the wires to the detonator and fitted the tiny AA battery into the base of the electrical squib.

  The explosives were ready.

  Monsul deposited the device in his coat pocket and rose from the bench. All he had to do was get close enough to the prime minister to be certain the blast would be fatal. To detonate the bomb, Monsul simply had to push the plunger to the squib — then he himself, the Jew and anyone else who happened to be too close would be blown to bits. Allah would receive Abdul's soul and reward him for his devotion to the true faith. Lord Hassan had told him of this, and there could be no doubt that his word was the one great truth.

  Monsul walked toward the prime minister's podium. He was so pleased with his divine mission and confident that God guided his every footstep, he failed to notice Gary Manning as the Canadian crept up behind him.

  Monsul was closing in on a suitable striking distance.

  Manning swiftly drew the Eagle pistol and slammed the steel barrel across the terrorist's mastoid bone, behind his left ear. The Assassin crumbled to the ground. The Phoenix Force commando dragged Monsul into the nearest cluster of bushes. He frisked the unconscious terrorist and found the miniature bomb in Monsul's pocket.

  The Canadian removed a set of riot cuffs from his jacket and quickly bound the Arab's wrists behind his back. Then he unclipped the walkie-talkie from his belt and pressed the button.

  "Keio, Rafael. A party crasher showed up."

  "Are you sure?" Encizo asked.

  "Positive," Manning said. "No problem. Tell Katz we've got a live one. Now we just have to keep him that way."

  15

  "Where the hell is Katzenelenbogen?" Deputy Director Geller demanded as he entered the office of Colonel Joshua Ben-David, head of the medical section of Mossad. "I was told I could find him here."

  "Yes, sir," Ben-David said as he rose from his desk. "He and two of his men brought a patient in here about half an hour ago."

  "A patient?" Geller frowned. "Another one of his foreign friends?"

  "The director told me that information about the man, including his name, is on a need-to-know level," Ben-David replied. "I'm afraid you are not authorized to receive such information."

  "By God, where is that arrogant son of a bitch?" Geller snapped.

  "The director?" Ben-David asked with raised eyebrows.

  "Katzenelenbogen, damn it."

  "Right here, Mr. Geller," Yakov announced as he entered the office. "What seems to be the problem?"

  "You're my problem," Geller fired, glaring at the one-armed colonel. "You went over my head to the director, didn't you?"

  "I contacted the director because I have reason to believe there's a double agent among either Mossad or Sheruth Modiin."

  "Are you saying you suspect me of being an enemy agent?" Geller demanded.

  "Yes," Yakov said.

  "How dare you," Geller said. "Who gave you the right to pass judgement on me?"

  "I didn't say you're guilty," Katz explained. "But you are a suspect. My interests are for the safety of the prime minister, the preservation of Israel and avoiding a conflict that could lead to the Third World War. I'm afraid your ego doesn't rate very high compared to that."

  "My ego," Geller spat. "You have the conceit to decide that only you can handle this situation. You're still a member of Mossad, yet you import those goyim. You call yourself a Jew, but you trust those four more than your own people."

  "You're talking like a fool," Katz said.

  "Right now you've got the director and even the prime minister convinced that you're going to solve this business and save the world," Geller continued angrily. "But when this is over, I'm going to see to it that disciplinary action is
taken against you."

  "I'll worry about that when this is over," Katz said. "For now, I'd like to talk to doctor Ben-David in private."

  "Fine," Geller said tensely. "I'll have a chat with the director and perhaps with the deputy prime minister as well."

  Geller turned and stomped out of the office. Colonel Ben-David sighed as he turned to Katz.

  "I trust you realize he can make a lot of trouble for you, Colonel."

  "He'll try," Katz agreed.

  "He may succeed," Ben-David warned. "Don't underestimate him. And don't forget that politics can be as sinister as espionage. One is apt to forget that Israel has a president as well as a prime minister. There has been some hard feeling between the two leaders. The prime minister and his deputy aren't the best of friends either."

  "You're suggesting that Parliament might decide the prime minister is not capable of serving in his present office because of his physical and mental condition after so many heart attacks?" Katz shook his head. "I doubt that."

  "Or they could cast doubt on your loyalty to Israel," Ben-David said bluntly. "I trust you. I've heard a lot about you, Colonel Katz. You're an old war-horse who has fought a thousand battles. You know the horror of war and you don't want to see it happen again."

  "There will always be wars and fighting," Katz stated. "I think we all know that one day there will be a major war in the Middle East, but we have to do whatever possible to postpone that day."

  "And the fellow you brought here, this Abdul Monsul, can help us in this matter?"

  "It's possible," Katz answered. "That's why we need to interrogate him with scopolamine to make certain he tells us the truth."

  "I've checked the blood samples we took from Monsul," Ben-David sighed. "Are you aware he's a drug addict?"

  "Yes," Katz answered. "We found tablets of synthetic heroin in his pocket, and I'm certain he smoked a good deal of hashish. Probably took other drugs as well."