A Trap in Paris: A Breathtaking Thriller to Keep You Guessing How Much of it is Real... (International Espionage Book 2)

by Uzi Eilam

  “We don’t have all the information,” Gideon explained. “And if you want precise details, we’ll need to specify exactly what it is we want to know in order to get the information from Israel. If Robert could put together a concise document stipulating what is needed, we could get the ball rolling.”

  “Robert will take care of it.” Bernard nodded and glanced at his aide. “But there is another extremely important area we haven’t touched on yet.”

  “What’s that?” asked Gideon.

  “The issue of tunnel detection. After all, we can’t just continue relying on the Paris Sewer Authority to keep discovering new tunnels for us on a day-to-day basis, now can we?”

  “That’s an extremely complicated issue, Professor Bernard,” Gideon began. “And it’s even more difficult when the goal is to locate tunnel activity in a noisy urban area. Everything having to do with the detection of tunnels is constantly being evaluated and reevaluated, and I would be lying if I said we had comprehensive solutions. I suppose there’s a chance that our American friends could offer more complete answers, though I doubt it. What’s truly troubling the Americans are the tunnels being used to smuggle people and drugs across their border with Mexico.”

  “Perhaps that’s true,” Bernard replied. “But they have been exceedingly tight-lipped on the issue, and they are in no hurry to let foreigners in on the secret. If there are more tunnels here in Paris, we also have other means at our disposal…”

  “Other technologies?” asked Bar-Oz.

  “You could call it that,” Bernard said. “I’m referring to the discovery of new digging projects using sophisticated listening systems, the kind that can also break codes and uncover concealment techniques and that rely on an in-depth understanding of Iranian culture and the Farsi language. I was hoping that this falls under the area of expertise of the young Israeli you mentioned earlier during the meeting of the full task force.”

  “You mean Dan Avni?”

  “Yes. That’s the name the Americans mentioned as an unrivaled expert in communications and listening devices.”

  “We’re expecting him to join us here at some point,” Gideon said. “When he does, we’ll see how he can help with the tunnels.”

  “We certainly have our work cut out for us, don’t we?” Bernard observed. “Most importantly at this point, I’m asking you to explore what you can share with us regarding the detection of tunnels, primarily here in Paris, but also in other locations in France. And of course, we will need to keep critical information regarding the detection and handling of tunnels as confidential as possible.”

  “They sure have saddled us with a formidable task!” Haim moaned once the car began to move. “I still don’t understand how the task force works. Who’s in charge here? Who decides what information we share and what information we keep to ourselves? How can we contribute if we don’t know everything?” “Why don’t we try to go with the flow and see where things take us?” Gideon suggested. “We may actually find ourselves casting the deciding vote between two larger powers.” The car maneuvered smoothly through the heavy traffic, and the two men sank deeply into their own thoughts in an attempt to process what they had heard during the meeting.

  “Haim,” Gideon said suddenly, thinking out loud, “this reminds me of a system that was developed in Finland to detect empty spaces using acoustic sensors. We need to talk to Israel and ask them to send us material we can share with our partners.”

  “Technology is your department,” said Bar-Oz. “I can only help with the intelligence we acquired in the course of the Second Lebanon War and our knowledge of what Hamas has developed in the Gaza Strip.”

  And who said the project was not going to be challenging? Gideon thought, as the familiar weight of additional responsibility began to settle in.

  Chapter 16

  It was still dark out when General Jamshidi finally decided to get out of bed after a sleepless night. He made his way downstairs and sat down heavily on one of the chairs beside the kitchen table. The series of failures he had recently experienced at work had made it difficult for him to sleep for the past few nights. The delays in the development of the new missile had been further complicated by the murder of the project director, General Musawi. He knew that there were talented young minds on the development team, but they needed someone to lead them. And until such a leader emerged, Jamshidi acknowledged, he personally would be forced to head up this project as well. But where would he find the time and energy to handle everything on his plate? To make matters worse, General Ja’afari had missed no opportunity to try to trip him up and cause him to fail.

  Jamshidi’s ears perked up at the sound of steps in the hallway leading to the kitchen. He straightened himself in his chair and lifted his head. It was his son Kemal, who was a student at the university. He was still in his pajamas.

  “Dad! Why are you up so early? It’s the middle of the night!”

  “I have a lot on my mind, son. Things pertaining to national security.”

  “Well, if you’re already awake, can I get you a cup of tea?”

  “Thanks, Kemal. I’d love a cup.”

  In a few moments, the young man returned to the table holding two fragile ceramic cups of strong sweet tea and slid one over to his father. “Is there anything you are allowed to talk about? Can you tell me anything about what’s troubling you?”

  “It’s not one thing, Kemal. It’s a combination of problems in a number of different areas. If it were only one area, it would be much easier for me to hone in on and find a solution.”

  Jamshidi knew he could trust his son. They’d had meaningful conversations in the past, not only about Kemal’s studies but also about things related to Jamshidi’s work. He was not concerned about Kemal’s rebellious side and his criticism of the regime. He had no doubt that whatever he told him would remain between the two of them.

  “We’ve had too many mishaps in the development of the Shahab missile, and the program may end up taking much more time than what I promised the president and the Supreme Leader,” began Jamshidi, as if talking to himself. “If we put most of our efforts into the Shahab at this point, other programs are likely to suffer. You may know about General Musawi’s murder, but you cannot imagine how much we are feeling his absence right now.” Jamshidi stopped to take a sip of tea, savoring the hot, soothing liquid and giving his son a look of appreciation.

  “But Dad, You’re the one who taught me that technical problems can always be solved. I also remember you telling me that some of the components can be bought in Europe and that this would shorten the process.”

  “Yes. That’s true, son. We also need to work harder on procurement, and that will require me to devote time and attention to my people who are engaged in it.”

  “But it seems like there’s something else troubling you,” Kemal said cautiously, not wanting to cross the line.

  “Do you remember my stories about the war against Iraq and the task that was assigned to the youth battalions?”

  “Sure I do. A great many young martyrs sacrificed their lives during that war. I remember you telling me that you were the commander of a youth battalion. But what does that have to do with what’s going on today? What’s really eating you?”

  “We were ordered to clear the minefields the Iraqis had planted in order to enable our tanks to launch a counterattack, and many teenagers were killed during the mission. And that was nothing compared to the minefield I’m facing now.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kemal said.

  “The more senior your position, the more you become a target for colleagues, whether because they are envious or because they are in competition with you for a top position. Whatever the reason, such colleagues may seek to trip you up and thwart your success, even at the expense of state interests.”

  “Aha… Now I understand. Who are these competitors?”

&
nbsp; “First of all, there’s General Ja’afari, the commander of the Guardians of the Revolution. We were youth battalion commanders together during the war with Iraq, and we moved up in the ranks together. I went on to study engineering, which slowed my promotion, and I suppose I regret missing the chance to move ahead as quickly as Ja’afari did.”

  “But what real danger can such a human landmine pose?” asked Kemal.

  “Ja’afari controls budgetary and human resources, which means that there are many things he can do. I can expect no help from Ja’afari in dealing with the difficult situation I’m now facing. It even looks like we’ll need to contend with the threat of cyberattacks on our own. Ali Mustafa Ja’afari is jealous of the special treatment I receive from the president and the supreme leader. I think he fears that I’ll replace him.”

  “Is that something you’d like to do?” asked Kemal.

  “Not at this stage. I have enough issues to deal with at the moment, as well as serious problems that are important to us all. Perhaps later I’ll have more time to think about the future.”

  The first rays of morning sun illuminated the sky, and the two men stood up and gave each other a long hug before climbing the steps to their bedrooms to get dressed and start their day. Jamshidi was encouraged by the conversation, and he decided to assemble the senior staff of his division and the directors of its departments in an attempt to imbue them with the fighting spirit and extra energy they would need to extricate themselves from their difficult situation.

  ***

  The conference room in the main offices of the Technologies and Systems Development Division was completely full. Donning a uniform adorned with his many war decorations and medals of commendation, General Jamshidi entered the room with quick, powerful strides and took his seat at the head of the long table.

  “The development branch is currently at a critical crossroads. We’ve experienced mishaps in a number of areas and, so far, the results have been disappointing. The missile’s driving system has yet to overcome its childhood illnesses, and the problems with our computer systems have resulted in other unexpected predicaments. With regard to the nuclear program, we have not yet found a solution for the problems with the centrifuge cascades for uranium enrichment at the Natanz plant. I’ve met with the Supreme Leader and the president. They trust you and continue to give the division their support. But they, too, are worried by the delays.” Whispers could be heard around the table, and most of the people in the room appeared to be too frightened to look directly at the face of their angry commander.

  “General Jamshidi, sir,” said an intelligent-looking young professional from the electronics department, “may I ask a question?”

  “Just a moment,” the general said, taking off the electronic glasses with which he never left the house and handing them to his assistant, who deftly changed their batteries and handed them back to him. In the office, Jamshidi had boasted that the glasses were the last word in corrective vision technology. His vision problems were the result of an injury he had suffered during the war with Iraq. “All right, young man, what’s your question?” the general said in a softer, more encouraging tone.

  “Sir, we know that the Guardians’ Electronics and Cyber Warfare Unit dealt with the cyberproblems of the computer system. Didn’t their solution also address our problems?”

  “The head of the War on Cyber Terrorism Division was killed in an accident that has yet to be solved,” Jamshidi informed his audience, whose expressions betrayed signs of shock and disbelief. “The division is currently undergoing organizational changes, and we should not expect any assistance from them.” He never considered letting them in on his assessment that even if everything were in order within the cyberdivision, Ja’afari would continue to poke sticks in the spokes of their work.

  “You are our electronics department, and you will deal with the problem. You have the skills to study and clean our computer system, and you will do so, in addition to the tasks you have already been assigned. I think you will discover,” said Jamshidi, attempting to add a bit of humor, “that each day actually has forty-eight hours. In other words, your days of R and R are over. From now on, our workload will be double what it was before, and I will demand results. Those who are unable to handle the pressure will be transferred out of the branch, and not to a pleasant place. As you know, the prison guards of the Guardians of the Revolution are extremely good at their jobs. You all have a lot of work to do, and I suggest you get to it immediately.”

  ***

  Dr. Fakari still felt uncomfortable during his meetings with General Jamshidi, and he did not allow himself to sit down unless explicitly instructed by the general to do so. With each additional meeting and briefing, however, the ice began to thaw and the tension to dissipate.

  “What am I supposed to do about the procurement issues?” Fakari asked, with a trace of anxiety in his voice.

  “I’ll go to Paris as soon as I can with a new cover story supplied by our foreign relations department,” said Jamshidi. “You will be responsible for coordinating everything required for the trip. I intend on to meet with Madani, who’s already in Paris, and Arash Jawad, who will come in from Berlin. This time, we’ll need to take special cautionary measures. The French have ratcheted up their surveillance of the movement of our people in general. I’d also like to meet with the professor. You know who I mean. It should be a one-on-one meeting, without Madani or Jawad.”

  “I’ll take care of all that immediately, sir,” Fakari assured him.

  “And one more thing. Start analyzing everything we have on red mercury.”

  “Sir, are you referring to the substance that makes it possible to enrich Uranium 235 without the use of centrifuges?”

  “There’s a hypothesis, which you may have heard about, that it can also be used to produce a neutron bomb,” Jamshidi explained.

  “Yes, I remember. It’s in the red file of special technical secrets. I remember when the going price for a few kilograms of red mercury seemed astronomical to us—”

  “That’s not important now,” Jamshidi interrupted abruptly. “What I need to know is whether the substance actually exists and, if it does, whether it truly does what we expect it to and who you suggest we purchase it from. It’s a matter of the utmost urgency.”

  “We’ll also start dealing with that immediately, sir. We’ll give it the highest priority.” Fakari rose and walked out of the office, leaving Jamshidi alone at his file-laden desk. He suddenly felt completely drained, and his mind went to work on the plethora of issues that were troubling him. Had he done everything that he could to motivate and guide his people? Would they rise to the challenge? Would he be able to get Ja’afari off his back and prevent his division from making the critical slip-up his rival was waiting for? And, perhaps most importantly, how long would he continue to enjoy the support of the Supreme Leader?

  Chapter 17

  The conference room in the interior minister’s office continued to fill up with members of the task force. Gideon shook Dominique’s hand and asked how she was doing. He then introduced her to Dan Avni, who had just gotten to Paris. Dan did not know anyone else on the task force, and he had not left Gideon’s side since his arrival. Haim also made his way over to Dominique, shook her hand, and complimented her on the clarity of her translation of the meetings.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Professor Bernard said loudly. He paused momentarily as the task force members stopped their small talk and took their seats. “The issue on the agenda is the state of the technological development of unmanned aerial vehicles in Iran. Gerald, would you be so kind as to present the issue from the American perspective?” Bernard said, addressing Dr. Deutsch. “I think it is clear that the event that has made this issue relevant to our work is your UAV’s crash on Iranian soil. It’s important for us to hear how the Iranians are trying to maximize the information they can acquire from the dron
e and how it relates to the issues being dealt with by our task force.”

  “I’d be glad to address the subject, Professor Bernard,” said Deutsch. “But first, with your permission, I’d like to say a few words about Mr. Avni, who just joined us this morning. Mr. Avni works at New Horizons, which is a Silicon Valley company I’m familiar with. In fact, his father was one of the founders of the company, and I knew him as well. I can assure you that Dan will be an exceptional addition to this task force.”

  “Now, about UAV development in Iran—let me begin by saying that our intelligence drone made the headlines following a report on Iranian state television that Iranian military forces had downed an American RQ-170 UAV not far from the city of Qom, where one of Iran’s nuclear facilities is located. A few hours later, NATO announced that we had indeed lost a UAV that was engaged in a mission in Afghanistan last week. We can assume that it had deviated from its route and crashed on Iranian soil. A few weeks later, the Iranians released a statement to Fars News Agency that, to us, seemed overblown and unfounded. It maintained that Iran had developed an unmanned aerial vehicle that was capable of reaching Israel. The report quoted General Ja’afari, commander of the Guardians of the Revolution, who described it as a “great accomplishment for the Islamic Republic.”

  “What was your drone carrying, and what unique attributes make it so suitable for such extensive use in Afghanistan?” Bernard asked. “Does it have special cameras? A secure communications channel? A particularly low radar signature?”

  “Uh…yes. All of the above. Everything you mentioned was integrated into this drone. I’m not at liberty to go into detail regarding all its specifications in the areas you mentioned,” said Deutsch apologetically. “However, in general, I can say that it makes extensive use of some of our more advanced technology.”