Motherland

by L. Todd Wood

  Connor’s phone rang.

  “Connor, my dear friend, how are you? Are you really here in Argentina?” his friend asked on the phone. Connor had secured a cheap disposable phone once he had entered the South American country. No one knew the number to track him.

  “I’m here my man, down by the sea at our old haunt. Come on down to meet me. But do me a favor, be discreet. I’m not here to play this time. I need your help. And don’t tell anyone I’m here please. This is between me and you my old friend.”

  “Hmmm...sounds serious. I’ll be there in an hour. How do you Americans say it? Hang tight. Ciao!” Fabian hung up.

  Ahmed dialed the phone number again of the Iranian intelligence service’s deeply hidden mole inside the Israeli Mossad. It was twenty-four hours later. This time Ahmed was in a crowded market, where no one could overhear the conversation. He kept walking through the noisy food bazaar, stopping from time to time to pretend he was checking the vegetables and seafood. Amir answered the phone also at a secure location in Tel Aviv. He was nervous.

  “You do not know what you have asked of me my friend. This has been really dangerous. My cover is on the line here. I do not want to be blown. However, I have the information you requested. I cannot do any more on this issue. You will have to make do with this information.

  “Murray is alive and escaped from an attempted hit in France. His Russian partner was killed. It was a heliborne raid. The Israelis are trying to find out who was behind it. They suspect the Americans. They are very suspicious of them. They do not trust Chahine. They are also aware of our weapons deployments and are extremely concerned. I am concerned about their response. The deployments are not being taken lightly and I hear talk of a substantial Israeli response. You should pass that on to your superiors.

  “Here is the info you requested. Murray, as I said, made it out of France alive. All I know is that he is on his way to Argentina. Supposedly, this scientist you are looking for may be there. Murray is trying to find him and find who has the bio weapon technology and who is developing it. That is all I have. Do not call me again. I will not answer. This number will no longer be valid. I have done enough. I am going to deep cover. Tell our superiors I will surface in a year. Goodbye.” Amir hung up the phone.

  Ahmed put the phone back in his jacket pocket. He smiled absentmindedly then wiped it off his face. He could show no emotion. So now I know where the dog is going, to Argentina. We have assets there. I will find him and I will kill him slowly. And the best thing of all, he will lead me to the scientist and to the bio weapon. It is perfect. My career will be saved. Even more than that, I will be a hero of the Islamic Republic.

  Ahmed picked up his phone again and dialed another number. He spoke firmly to the person that answered, “Go through Murray’s file once again. Find a connection to Argentina. It’s there somewhere. He’s on his way there. I want to know why and who he is seeing. I want this information before you leave the building today. I am on my way to the airport. Put me on the next flight to Buenos Aires.”

  “Why all the secrecy, Connor? What have you gotten yourself into my friend?” asked Fabian once the waiter dropped off a glass of Argentine Pinot Noir.

  “What do you know about Nazis in Argentina?” Connor asked bluntly.

  “Nazis? Jesus, yes, you have gotten yourself into something that stinks haven’t you?”

  “Yes, it is serious all right. Really, what do you know?”

  “Me, I don’t know much of anything about that subject. However, I have friends that would know. But you’ve got to give me more. What the hell is going on? This is scary stuff. The kind of stuff that can get you killed. These aren’t nice people Connor. But you know that don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know that. But I’ve got to take the chance. Can you keep a secret?”

  “Between us? Sure. I still haven’t told anyone about that sixteen year old girl and that weekend at your Dad’s condo. And that was thirty years ago. So, yes, I think I can keep a secret.” Fabian smiled a wide smile but then saw that Connor was in no mood to laugh about their past glory days.

  Connor told Fabian what had led to him coming to Argentina. He left out a few details but enough so that his friend could get a clear picture of what was going on. When he finished, Fabian let out a long whistle.

  “Man, you’ve really stepped in it this time. But what are friends for? I’ll do some asking around and get you a way forward. However, I don’t want my family mixed up in this do you understand? My involvement in your little adventure stays between you and me. Capiche?”

  “Agreed, my friend. Thank you for your help. Now, tell me about that beautiful wife of yours. How is she?”

  Peter sat in a secure room in Tel Aviv, surrounded by Mossad superiors as he recounted his story of what happened with Connor in Russia, Moldova, and France. “He’s on his own now. He’s on his way to Argentina.”

  “What does he hope to accomplish?” one of the men asked.

  “He wants to find out who is behind this bio weapon. He wants to bring this information to the light of day, expose them, if you will. He believes this weapon is so dangerous that the world has to be aware of its existence. And he’s determined.”

  “Does he think it is the Russian? The Iranians? The Islamic State?”

  “I don’t think he has any idea. But I know he wants to find out.”

  “How is one man going to do this? He is on his own you know. We cannot help him in this endeavor. It’s not in our national interest to be upsetting the Argentines.”

  “I don’t think he is expecting help. He said he is on his own. I think he has learned a lot over the last few years and feels he can take care of himself.”

  Peter then looked at Natasha who was sitting in a chair in the corner away from the table. She appeared deeply distraught, like she hadn’t slept in weeks, which she probably hadn’t.

  “Natasha, he is worried about you. He asked me to come look after you until he returns. I agreed to do so.”

  “Thank you, Peter,” she responded softly.

  The senior man in the room, who had yet to speak, then intervened in the conversation. “Yes, we have been in contact with Vasili and Sofiya over the years. They have been helpful. However, it is unfortunate she was killed. We need to find another way to connect with Vasili and stay on top of this situation. I’m more interested in who had her killed and who tried to kill you and Connor. That is what I want to know. So find out!” he said the rest of the men in the room. He stood up, and walked out. The meeting was over.

  The Sultan leaned back in his Oval Office chair and gave his orders. The Iranian-backed, Shia militia, Hezbollah, was to begin to put pressure on Israel from the north in Lebanon. They had been resupplied with thousands of medium and long-range rockets that possessed increased accuracy and were very deadly to Israeli cities, airfields, and military installations. The Israeli Iron Dome could destroy many of them, but not all of them. Some would get through. In addition, Hezbollah was in possession of U.S. shoulder-launched ManPADs or man portable air defense weapons, heat-seeking, shoulder fired missiles, to threaten Israeli aircraft. These weapons had been smuggled out of the disastrous U.S. Libyan excursion and also from Syrian Sunni militias who had turned their weapons over to opposing forces after being trained by the Americans for billions of dollars. Anti-tank missiles were in abundant supply as well. Hezbollah now comprised a potent force against Israel’s north flank. The conflict would be bloody, long, and deadly. Israel would most likely have to push into Lebanon to eradicate the threat as they had done before, tying up resources and energy.

  In the territories of the West Bank and Gaza Strip, Hamas was to ramp up attacks on Israeli Defense Forces as much as possible. New access tunnels had been dug along the Gaza border and raids against Israeli settlements were to commence in earnest. In addition, rocket fire was to explode against Israeli towns along the border and even further into the country as far north as Tel Aviv. Again, the Iron Dome would be effective but
not a complete security umbrella. The goal was to empty the Iron Dome of missiles. The Chahine administration had quietly decided to stop the resupply of rockets to the system from American factories. Hamas had also been sheltering Islamic State leaders in the territories. Attacks from ISIS from Syria near the Golan, and from Egypt, would commence as well against soft targets in Israel such as settlements.

  The third Intifada, or uprising, would start as well. Terror attacks against Israeli citizens would commence throughout the country from long-planted sleeper cells bent on terrorizing the population. Stabbings, hit and runs by vehicles, shootings, hammers, whatever it took for the Palestinian terrorists to inflict horror on the Israeli population, would be used. Violence would explode against Jewish citizens from every angle, from every corner of the country. The Israeli Defense Force would be overwhelmed.

  At the same time, Iranian forces would start to advance across the Fertile Crescent of Iraq now that the Shia elements in the Iraqi government had taken control of the former Sunni territory. The mobile S-400 missile systems would advance with them. In a couple months’ time, Iranian forces would be mobilized across Syria and Iraq threatening Israel from the northeast.

  The United Nations and their useful idiots in the European Union would also be pressuring Israel to return to the 1967 borders, an indefensible position. Economic blackmail would continue to be used against Israeli companies. The Sultan would push the American public to follow suit. The narrative that Israel was the enemy would continue to be pushed by an oh-so-willing corrupt media.

  The overall goal of the Sultan’s plan was to fight a war of attrition on all fronts with Israel and slowly strangle her as America refused to re-arm her as the United States had done so many times before in previous Israeli-Arab conflicts. The coup-de-grace would be Iranian nuclear weapons which would threaten the Jewish State. Iran had made great progress developing ballistic missile technology and miniaturizing the warheads to arm them with nuclear weapons. Israel had its own arsenal, but would be hard pressed to deliver against Iranian targets with the Russian integrated air defense system in place, targeting aircraft-dropped gravity bombs and ballistic missile delivery systems. In addition, Iran had dispersed its critical infrastructure across large amounts of territory and hardened them significantly. Some Israeli nukes would get through but not enough to destroy the Islamic Republic. Israel, tiny as she was, did not have the luxury to disperse in that way.

  This was the plan the Sultan ordered from the Oval Office to his minions in the Islamic world. Yes, soon, the Jewish State would cease to exist and the caliphate would resume its rightful place across the Arab and Islamic territory. It was only a matter of time.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ahmed’s phone rang as he exited security at the airport in Tehran on the way to Argentina. He continued walking down the ramp into the main gate area where it was less crowded before he responded. “Yes?” he answered.

  “Murray had a roommate at the U.S. Air Force Academy where he started his training in the military. He was what they call an exchange student, meaning he was from another country. The country was Argentina. His name is Fabian Ramos. Commodore Ramos is now one of their brigade commanders although many of his aircraft are grounded due to maintenance and support issues. I will text you his address. He lives in Buenos Aires with his family but commutes to the airfields in the interior of the country regularly. That is all I have.”

  “Thank you. You have done well. Keep this request to yourself and it will be worth your time soon.” Ahmed hung up the phone with a smile on his face. He checked in at the gate and soon boarded the plane.

  Prime Minister Dahan sat at his desk, pouring over intelligence data of Iranian and Hezbollah troop movements. The deployments were aggressive. The logistical support being assembled was threatening. The Iranians are moving to attack. It’s as clear as the light of day. I can no longer count on the Americans. We are alone. We cannot survive alone in this sea of wolves forever. We need a partner. Even a partner that we don’t agree, or with their government or their behavior. In the end, we still need a partner.

  The prime minister sat back in his chair and thought further. China appeared to be out of the question. He had been to Moscow several times already since the Russians had been involved in the Syrian civil war. Russia was now Iran and Shia Islam’s ally in the Middle East, but mostly because of their recent buying power. Perhaps if he allied with Moscow, used them as a protector. But they would not protect us for free. They will want something. Something very dear to us, like our self-determination.

  But we are a democracy. We value the rule of law. We value freedom. Arabs here are more free than anywhere in the Middle East. If we cease to be free, we cease to exist. Dahan continued to mull over the satellite photos of Iranian missile systems once again. Perhaps we need to make a deal in any case. Perhaps I should fly to Moscow once again. America is no longer in our corner. We need someone. Russia is the only answer.

  Dahan called his aide to make the arrangements for a trip as soon as possible to meet with the Russian president.

  Vasilovich received the news of Sofia’s death much harder than he thought he would. However, finding another devochka (girl) in the Russian Federation would not be difficult. Beautiful women were a dime a dozen. Yet, finding one of, shall we say, her talents, would be hard indeed. She had touched him in a certain way and he did not think that was possible. However her death would serve a purpose. News of the incident had reached the Kremlin and it was very easy to blame the connection to the American Murray on Sofiya. Vasili made up a good story. She was Ukrainian anyway, not really one of us, he thought as he boarded his private jet on his way back to Siberia, back to where he felt comfortable, away from all the stress and pageantry of Moscow.

  The Kremlin had been very interested in his entire story, especially in light of the disappearance of Anatoly some years before. This did not paint Vasilovich in a kind light and he knew it. He had to get back in the good graces of the Kremlin’s leaders. Therefore, he blamed it on the Iranians as well. It was their plot, through espionage, to find out more from Russia about the progress of the bio weapon and who controlled the technology. Perhaps they were the ones who kidnapped Anatoly, he told the Kremlin. All Vasili was doing was making good weapons for Russia and lots of them. He was a good, patriotic Russian. They did not question his Jewishness or ask about his relations with the Jewish State. All the better, he thought.

  His crew was buttoning up the jet for the return trip when he heard the noise outside. Looking out the window, several large military vehicles were speeding towards his aircraft. One stopped in front to prevent the plane from moving. Large numbers of soldiers and FSB officers jumped out of the trucks. They surrounded the plane.

  “Vasilovich. Come out with your hands up! You are under arrest!” they shouted in Russian through a bullhorn.

  “I guess I counted my blessings too soon,” he said aloud. “I wanted to get back to Siberia but I think I will be going a different way from whence I came.” He moved towards the door and motioned for his assistant to open it. He said goodbye to his crew for the last time and walked down the stairs. The security agents threw him to the ground, handcuffed him, and pushed him to back of one of the vehicles. It soon sped away.

  Connor met Fabian the next evening, this time at a cigar bar further into the center of the city, away from the shoreline. It was a very busy place and they chose a quiet table outside, away from most of the customers and the thick smoke which penetrated the clothing of anyone inside the establishment. The black night of the Buenos Aires sky was filled with stars. They talked small talk for a bit, reminiscing old times back in their college days in Colorado.

  Slowly the conversation moved to more pressing matters like the decline of the Argentine Air Force. Fabian was disturbed by the direction his government had taken. The socialists had corrupted everything, including the military. It was not a pretty picture. Argentina really had no combat capability any more
to speak of. The military was a rusting hulk of corruption. Aircraft didn’t fly. Tanks didn’t run. Officer’s didn’t do their duty. At least most of them. “I still try to do what I learned at the Academy, Connor, but it is difficult when everyone is just out for themselves. We have been corrupted.”

  “I’m afraid you’re not the only one my friend. We are moving down that path as well, very quickly I might add.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Your country was once one the world looked up to. I pray that it will be one day again.”

  “I pray for the same thing. We have serious problems. I’m not sure they can be overcome. The socialist cancer is spreading fast. The young people know nothing. The Marxists destroyed our education system, once the finest in the world. They did it over 30 years while no one was looking.”

  Fabian sat quiet for a minute and took a long drag on the cigar, the smoke curling out from his mouth slowly and disappearing into the dark, Argentine night. Finally he spoke. “Connor, I’ve asked around. I know where most of the old Nazis live. I have a few contacts. We may be able to find what you are looking for. However, I warn you. It will be dangerous. As I mentioned, these are not nice people. They have their own security force. Our government has left them alone for decades. They live amongst themselves, preserving their culture, their way of life, their beliefs. No one goes there without being invited. You can peep around the edges of course in the nearby tourist destinations, but no one goes into the interior, where they live without fear of the authorities. It has been this way for a long time. All the great powers have known about them. However, they have left them alone for various reasons. Mainly they want information. Your country is not immune to this. They have all visited them from time to time. I fear the person you are looking for is there, living amongst them. Probably not allowed to leave for some reason. Or maybe he doesn’t want to, I don’t know. Anyway, that is what we are up against. If you want, I can make some inquiries, and we can try to get access into their secret lifestyle. But, it will not be easy and it will be dangerous.”