Blood Diamonds - [Kamal and Barnea 05]

by By Jon Land

  “I feel like I’m sinking, too.”

  The microwave oven beeped just as Ben returned the cell phone to his pocket. Danielle removed the bowl from the oven. He could see right away that the plastic eyeglass lenses were no longer visible, having melted into the now boiling water. Still, Danielle peered into the steaming bowl and waited for it to cool before reaching down into it and plucking an object off the bottom.

  “An interesting prescription for glasses, don’t you think?” Danielle asked, opening her palm so Ben could see the small diamond she was holding.

  * * * *

  Chapter 26

  G

  eneral Latisse Matabu led Dr. Sowahy down a trail cut by the government years before through the woods in Sierra Leone’s eastern Kono region. The deep, mud-soaked grooves indicated that trucks had used the trail very recently. RUF soldiers were posted at regular intervals and in some of the tallest trees where they wielded binoculars along with assault rifles.

  “Don’t worry, they won’t shoot you unless I tell them to,” Matabu said as she walked. “Taking Kono back two years ago gave us the means to buy the weapons we needed to fight the government troops and so-called military advisors from the United States and elsewhere. The troops who killed my father had been trained by the United States, armed by the United States. But soon we will make them all pay.”

  “What about the peace talks?”

  “A sham perpetrated on us by President Kabbah. I released all children and U.N. peacekeepers his government viewed as hostages, but where are the concessions we were promised in return? No, the government asks for much and gives nothing in return. What we want we must take ourselves in Freetown.”

  “You’re talking about waging all-out war again,” Dr. Sowahy noted grimly.

  Matabu nodded. “The RUF failed in its last attempt to take the capital and that failure ultimately cost my father his life. I do not intend to repeat his mistakes. Retaking the diamond fields here and elsewhere was only the beginning. The rest will follow in due course.”

  Matabu stopped at the end of the trail and faced the old doctor instead of going on. “General Treest put this disease inside me, Doctor. God should have taken him before I had the chance. I don’t even think he enjoyed the rape. He just wanted to make me hurt. But I returned the pain he gave me a hundred times as soon as I returned. I put an end to him as I will put an end to the others in the government who are no better or different.”

  Matabu parted a final bit of stubborn brush to reveal the river she had personally seized from government forces two years before. Residents of nearby villages sifted through the murky water with screened sieves under the watchful eye of RUF troops standing on the banks. The scene looked unchanged from that day she had brought a truckload of her troops here in the guise of workers, except for who was in control.

  “Welcome to Tongo, Doctor,” Matabu said to Sowahy. “The last of our alluvial diamond fields to yield anything significant. The fields at Bo and Kanema are all but drained, and soon this one will be, too. No matter. By that time, Sierra Leone will be ours.”

  * * * *

  Chapter 27

  T

  he diamond glimmered in Danielle’s palm. Finely shaped and the size of her pinky fingernail, the stone seemed to rise out of JL the water that had accompanied it from the steaming bowl.

  “That was in one of the eyeglass lenses?” Ben asked, still not believing his eyes.

  “Encased in a polymer designed to melt at three hundred degrees and hidden beneath the tinted surface. Making it virtually undetectable in the event Ranieri was searched.”

  “Did Levy tell you that?”

  Danielle shook her head slowly. “Only that diamonds were being smuggled into the country to purchase weapons.”

  “How did you figure the rest out?”

  “Ranieri made two trips to a jewelry store in Tel Aviv, the first straight from the airport after his arrival and the second on his way to East Jerusalem two mornings ago.”

  “Why two trips?”

  “He delivered something on the first trip, must have picked the eyeglasses up on the second. I still haven’t figured out how Ranieri got his diamonds past customs. In any case, I followed him from the time he arrived at the airport. My plan was to pick up Anatolyevich, or whoever showed up to meet Ranieri in East Jerusalem, once he left the meeting to track down the weapons. Except, thanks to you, Anatolyevich never arrived.”

  “Sorry to have ruined things for you. Again.”

  As Ben watched, Danielle grabbed a second bowl and drained the contents of the first into it, turning her hand into a catch as the water ran through it. He heard a soft clacking sound each time Danielle caught another diamond in her palm, almost two dozen small but impressive stories in all. She dropped them in the same bowl and watched them glisten beneath the kitchen’s harsh fluorescent lights.

  “How much are they worth?” Ben asked, recalling the diamond engagement ring he had bought for his wife fifteen years ago with most of his savings. The thought left a lump in his throat, as the familiar wave of sadness rose deep inside him.

  “I’d say between a half and three-quarters of a million dollars. Enough to buy lots of bullets and bombs.”

  “Which are still unaccounted for.”

  “They don’t have to be for long,” Danielle said. “Why don’t we pay Anatolyevich a visit?”

  * * * *

  Chapter 28

  Dubna, Russia

  M

  ayor Anton Krilev tilted his eyes upward toward another flood of airplanes flying over the downtown section of Dubna, when the convoy of trucks rumbled down the central avenue. He watched an officer emerge from the backseat of an army-issue vehicle and hurry over to him. A short, barrel-shaped man with a thick head.

  “Thank God you’ve come!” Krilov said, as armed soldiers began to spill out from the four trucks. “It’s gotten worse since I contacted Moscow!”

  The officer looked about, seeming to study the air, then signaled his troops to disperse. “I am Colonel Yuri Petroskov. In charge of internal security for this region.”

  “Anton Krilev. I am mayor of Dubna,” Krilev greeted, extending his hand.

  Petroskov brushed past him and left the outstretched hand hanging there. “You will take me to your office now so I may establish my headquarters.”

  “Good idea. Then I can brief you.”

  Petroskov continued to scan the street. “I do not need to be briefed.”

  “The phones, though. Suddenly they don’t work anywhere in the city.”

  The colonel stopped and faced Krilev. “I know. They were shut off on my orders.”

  “Your orders?” Krilev repeated in befuddlement.

  But Petroskov had already continued on, leaving the mayor to struggle to keep up. “How many dead so far?” the colonel asked.

  “I’ve lost count, the reports are coming in so fast. A few thousand perhaps, many of them children.” Krilev gazed at the fully armed soldiers continuing to fan out through the streets, disappearing between buildings. “I had requested doctors, additional medical personnel and supplies.”

  “And you will get them.” The colonel swung toward him again. “Once the city is secure.”

  “Secure? I don’t understand what you—”

  Petroskov arched his head slightly backward, exaggerating his perpetual grimace. “Dubna is under quarantine, Major. Until further notice, no one will be allowed in or out without proper authorization from myself or one of my officers. Is that clear?”

  “When I called Moscow—”

  “Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s clear.”

  “Then after I establish my headquarters, you will take me to your hospitals. I will want to speak to the doctors charged with treating the infected. And the other city commissioners, I will wish to meet with them as well.”

  “Of course,” Krilev said, huffing now from the effort of trying to match the colonel’s rapid stride. “But there
is new information. Several witnesses report small planes flying very low over the city for the past several days. Other witnesses have reported a strange smell coming from the woods at the same time. My thinking is that. . .” He let his voice tail off when it was clear Colonel Petroskov wasn’t paying any attention. “Colonel?” Krilev said, trying to rouse him.

  “Please leave the investigation to me, Mister Mayor.”

  Krilev stopped in his tracks. “You already knew what happened here,” he realized. “You expected this.”

  “I am prepared for it.”

  “For what? My city is dying, Colonel, and this is what Moscow sends for help?”

  “Moscow sent what is needed, Mayor, so that things cannot get any worse. Now, where is your office?”

  * * * *

  * * * *

  Chapter 29

  V

  asily Anatolyevich leaned forward in his chair, grinned at Danielle and snarled at Ben. “So the son of Jafir Kamal returns.” He gazed around him at the well-furnished appointments of his guarded room in Colonel al-Asi’s safe house in the relatively plush suburb of Al-Bireh north of Ramallah. “Tell me, Inspector, do you Palestinians treat all your prisoners this way? It’s no wonder you have no country of your own.”

  “I notice you’re still in custody,” Ben chided.

  “And I finished my last bottle of vodka yesterday.” Anatolyevich smoothed his hair back with his hands. His face was freshly shaved and a lilac scent rose off his flesh from the kind of soap sold in fashionable Tel Aviv boutiques. “Where is your Colonel al-Asi, by the way? He promised to bring me another one so I would talk to you, Inspector.”

  “You can be a free man today if you help us,” Ben said, ignoring Anatolyevich’s words.

  “I will be a free man anyway; it will just take a little longer.”

  “But not a rich one,” Danielle interjected.

  Anatolyevich eyed Danielle lasciviously. “You bring such a pretty woman with you. I’m amazed, Inspector.”

  “Pakad Barnea was kind enough to take your place at the meeting you missed in East Jerusalem on Monday,” Ben told him.

  “My place? You think I know what you’re talking about?”

  “These,” Danielle said, producing a small pouch containing the diamonds that had been embedded in Ranieri’s eyeglasses. She opened it and produced one of the beautifully finished stones. “You were supposed to receive them in exchange for weapons.”

  Anatolyevich’s eyes bulged. He stretched a hand upward, as if to reach for the diamond, then pulled it back.

  “Now,” Ben said, “would you like to cooperate with us or not?”

  The night before Danielle had cut her hair short, slicing off her tumbling waves and smoothing what remained into a shaggy, layered look. She added a pair of non-prescription eyeglasses and some shapeless clothes Sabi had purchased for her at a flea market to complete her disguise.

  “What do you think?” she had asked Ben.

  “On you, everything looks good.”

  “You’re giving me too much reason to question your judgment.”

  Ben shrugged, missing the familiarity of her appearance. “It’s a good thing your hair will grow back.”

  “Now it’s your turn ...”

  She brushed his hair straight back and colored it black, adding some glaze to give it a waxy sheen.

  “No shaving for a while,” she instructed, after working a bronzer into his face, concentrating it on Ben’s cheekbones to enhance them. Looking in the mirror when she was done, he had to admit his appearance had been radically transformed.

  “You’re very good at this.”

  “I had lots of practice at one point.”

  “Your days in the Sayaret?”

  “Everything seemed so simple then.”

  “There was nothing simple about the mission where you first met our cowboy.”

  “He could have been killed in the ambulance explosion yesterday.”

  “But you don’t think so, do you, Danielle?”

  “Men like him don’t die so easily.” She looked at Ben more closely, as if to inspect her handiwork. “Or you.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “What do you think? You saved my life in New York. ...”

  “But not our child’s.”

  “You didn’t let me finish. You’re stronger than you think you are, Ben. You had to be strong enough for both of us.”

  “I’d been there before, that’s all.”

  “A terrible place.”

  “Yes,” Ben said, eager to change the subject. “And if you’re right about the cowboy still being alive, we’ll undoubtedly be seeing him again.”

  “I should have killed him in Beirut like I wanted to,” Danielle followed reflectively.

  “Reliving the past again.”

  “You said so yourself: It’s a habit with me.”

  “You were, what, twenty-four years old at the time?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “A kid.”

  “Old for special operations.”

  “Young for Shin Bet, though, where you were reassigned.”

  “To provide me a graceful exit.”

  “There’s no such thing,” Ben said, knowingly.

  They had made the trip into the West Bank just after dawn, hidden in the back of a truck packed with refrigerators and stoves bound for Ramallah. Sabi’s government-approved transfer visas rendered the Israeli checkpoints mere inconveniences; the truck was not searched once during any of three separate stops. It dropped them in the center of Ramallah and a cab brought them the rest of the way to Colonel al-Asi’s safe house in Al-Bireh where Anatolyevich was still staring at the diamond Danielle had pulled from the pouch.

  “We want to know exactly what weapons Ranieri was buying,” said Ben. “For whom, as well.”

  “And where we can find these weapons,” Danielle added.

  Anatolyevich leaned back comfortably. “Talk and I go free?” The Russian snickered. “Is that the deal you came all this way to offer me?”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid you’ll have to do better.”

  “No,” Ben told him, “we’ve got a better idea.” He looked toward Danielle.

  “We want to purchase the same merchandise you intended to sell to Ranieri,” she added.

  “And where would that leave my original client, comrades?”

  “Your original client is no longer in a position to pay you,” Danielle reminded, pouch in hand. “We are.”

  Anatolyevich looked at the pouch. “You’ll have to do better than what’s inside that.”

  Ben and Danielle exchanged a glance.

  “You don’t know, do you?” the Russian taunted them.

  “Know what?”

  “Those diamonds in your pouch were only a down payment.”

  “Down payment?” Danielle asked incredulously.

  Anatolyevich nodded. “A considerably larger sum is waiting at whatever jeweler Ranieri was using as a conduit this time.”

  “How much?”

  “Ten million dollars.”

  “What were you selling worth ten million dollars?” Ben demanded, not believing what he had just heard.

  Anatolyevich folded his arms comfortably. “Set me free, let me keep that pouch of diamonds, and I might tell you.”

  “Not good enough,” Danielle told him. “We want to see what you were selling for that kind of money.”

  “Why not?” Anatolyevich smiled. “I have nothing better to do.” The Russian turned his gaze on Ben, as he stood up casually. “Let’s go, Inspector. I’ll tell you the truth about your father on the way.”

  * * * *

  Chapter 30

  F

  rom the safe house in Al-Bireh, they were driven down a dusty road, pitted by stray ordnance blasts, to an abandoned building twelve miles away in Ramallah as instructed. Ben and Danielle left Anatolyevich with al-Asi’s guards while they went inside.

  “Pakad Barnea,” Colonel
al-Asi greeted joyously, “how good to see you.”