Harpoon
Page 10
Abbas al-Sayyid had used that money to pay for murder. In December 2000 he acquired assault weapons, ammunition, and explosives, using funds that had been relayed to him from Syria. Those weapons were used to kill two Israelis in March 2001. In May 2001, al-Sayyid masterminded the suicide bombing of the Ha’Sharon Mall in Netanya, which left five dead and one hundred wounded.13 Abbas al-Sayyid personally placed the explosives inside the clothing that the suicide bomber wore when he blew himself up inside the Park Hotel.
Israeli commandos caught up with al-Sayyid in May 2002. He was captured in a late-night raid in the West Bank. During his interrogation, he was incredibly forthcoming concerning the financing of his suicide bombing campaigns. In his interrogation, carried out at Kishon Prison in northern Israel on May 12, al-Sayyid explained that he had received the money for the weapons and material from a bank transfer into his personal Arab Bank account in a branch in Tulkarm. The money was sent from America and in dollars. A Hamas operative in Syria coordinated it. The money was ostensibly donated to finance political activity but had to use the money to acquire weapons for the Izzedine al-Qassam Brigade. The money came in monthly payments, each for $13,000. The last money received was in February 2002. Abbas al-Sayyid confessed that he was in touch with his benefactors through letters and SMS messages from his mobile phone. He contacted a Hamas operative, a forty-year-old resident of the Balata Refugee Camp in Nablus, to have the money placed into the Arab Bank account.14
The process was that simple. All a cell commander needed was a disposable mobile phone and SIM card, a list of contacts, and a bank account.
Harpoon met twice a month following Operation Defensive Shield. Israeli forces in the West Bank uncovered intelligence treasures that provided the Shin Bet, A’man, and the Mossad with in-depth insight into the architectural blueprints of the massive terrorist infrastructure that Hamas and many others had built under the auspices of the Palestinian Authority. The unit analyzed all the material pertaining to money. The sheer volume of intelligence uncovered by the Israeli military incursion was overwhelming. The Palestinian terrorist war against Israel was local. The money that financed it, though, was coming in from all over the world.
Iranian intelligence viewed the hundreds of millions of dollars it invested in Hamas and the PIJ as an inexpensive means by which to wage a proxy war against Israel. Telethons in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia raised money on behalf of suicide bombers and their families; the money, raised by “the Saudi Committee for the Support of the Al Quds Intifada,” was stored in a special bank account. In April 2002, less than twenty months after fifteen Saudi men* hijacked four aircraft and turned them into flying missiles on 9/11, Saudi monarch King Fahd sponsored a telethon that raised $110 million to support the intifada, with much of the money marked for the facilitation of terror and on behalf of the families of the suicide bombers.15
There were also collection plates—placed in mom-and-pop operations, basically—in Palestinian-and Arab-run businesses in communities worldwide that solicited donations of coins and trinkets. Under the guise of registered and well-established charities, men from the territories came to Palestinian and Muslim communities in the United States and around the world to address coffee klatches and postprayer meetings. These men were promoted openly in flyers and at prayer; audiences were promised to hear war stories from the trenches of the holy struggle against the Zionists. Dr. Musa Abu Marzook,** one of the heads of Hamas based in the United States, launched a financial empire raising money this way, eventually turning this apparatus into banks and lending institutions in the 1990s.16 Others followed suit even after September 11, 2001, when such gatherings were placed under the microscope of law enforcement.
Much of the money raised was laundered through charities. The Holy Land Foundation, based in Richardson, Texas, was the largest. Originally called the Occupied Land Fund, the HLF was a major conduit of zakat to the West Bank and Gaza; much of the money ended up in the hands of the Hamas military wing. Both Dagan and Uri had traveled to the United States on numerous occasions in 1996 and 1997 to talk to the U.S. intelligence community in an effort to stop the Holy Land Foundation from operating duplicitously as a benign and benevolent charity. The arguments fell on deaf ears irrespective of the global component. “Parallel to our discussions with American elements,” Uri recalled, “we have had long discussions with the relevant parties in the United Kingdom, France and Germany regarding Hamas money coming out of their countries.”17 Dagan and Uri enjoyed better success with the U.S. Department of Justice and the Department of Treasury, once they convinced key officials that the Holy Land Foundation, as well as similar organizations, aided and abetted Palestinian terror organizations. Actions such as Presidential Executive Order 12947 prohibited transactions with terrorists who threatened to disrupt the Middle East peace process. Shortly after 9/11, the Holy Land Foundation was designated a terrorist organization.
The money headed to the territories came from vast and diverse sources. There were, though, three primary means by which these funds were delivered: smuggling suitcases full of cash, or smuggling merchandise that could be sold; money changers utilizing their cash reserves and traditional Islamic forms of money transfers; and, of course, established banks. The smugglers and the money changers were a tactical challenge for Israel and Harpoon specifically. Smugglers could be stopped at the border crossings with Jordan; Israeli forces in southern Gaza were battling Hamas tunnels that secreted supplies, consumer goods, money, and even livestock into the Strip. But the banks, legitimate financial institutions responsible for the vast millions entering the terrorist coffers, presented a more complex challenge.
Banks had never been the target of a nation’s intelligence and military forces before. In order to effectively stop funds flowing into terrorist coffers by cutting them off at their source, Harpoon would have to go global.
Efraim Halevy’s term as the ninth memuneh, or director, of the Mossad came to an end in August 2002. The London-born Halevy had served the Mossad for nearly thirty-five years, during good years and bad. Urbane and witty, Halevy excelled as a liaison officer and as a diplomat, and he had endured criticism by many inside the organization for exactly those attributes—some joked that Halevy preferred talking to Arab leaders at cocktail parties rather than leading an operational force of spies. But the diplomatic skills paid great dividends. He had been particularly close with Jordan’s King Hussein and was instrumental in forging the path for a treaty between the Jewish state and the Hashemite Kingdom.18 In 1997, Halevy had been recalled as an ambassador in Europe to return home to personally negotiate the release of the Mossad hit team members who had been apprehended in Jordan after the failed attempt on the life of Khaled Meshal, the Hamas political leader living in Amman. Halevy was appointed the Mossad director shortly thereafter.
It had been a tumultuous four-year tenure for Halevy as Mossad director. The battle against Hezbollah escalated daily, ultimately culminating in Israel’s unilateral withdrawal; al-Qaeda had emerged as a global force to be reckoned with throughout the Middle East, the Asian subcontinent, and the Horn of Africa. Peace talks with Arafat failed during Halevy’s tenure, and the intifada erupted. Efraim Halevy was the Mossad director when the United States was attacked on September 11, 2001, and the global war on terror commenced. Halevy, a director in the classic le Carré mold, was forward thinking and analytical. In an address before NATO, Halevy understood the ramifications of the attacks against the United States, declaring that fateful day as the “formal and potent declaration of World War Three.”19
Prime Minister Sharon was reported to have enjoyed a splendid working relationship with the sixty-eight-year-old Halevy. But the Mossad needed a new direction. By August, more than five hundred Israelis had been killed in the intifada and close to one thousand had been seriously wounded. The time for an analytical approach to Israel’s intelligence wars had come to an end. Many inside the organization urged the prime minister to select a veteran Mossad commander to
lead the agency during the dark days of the intifada. But Sharon wanted a man from the outside, someone with a fresh perspective and a dagger between his teeth, who could restore Israel’s covert deterrence by initiating the complex and daring missions of danger and intrigue that the Mossad was famous for. There was only one man that Sharon considered. Meir Dagan enthusiastically accepted the challenge.
On September 10, 2002, Prime Minister Sharon announced that Meir Dagan would serve as the tenth director of Israel’s Mossad. A celebratory ceremony was later held inside the prime minister’s office. A plaque bearing the Mossad emblem was placed on a shelf for the benefit of the cameras. Sharon couldn’t contain his pleasure at the ceremony. He looked like a proud father watching as his favorite son fulfilled a family destiny. Dagan wore a dark suit to the ceremony. He was full of energy and dynamic as ever as he took the hand of his prime minister vowing to lead Israel’s secret warriors into battles. The glasses were raised for the camera, toasts given, and a hearty l’chaim, “to life,” offered. Indeed, life at the Mossad would never be the same again.
The Dagan revolution was immediate. There were rapid resignations—by those who knew they wouldn’t survive inside an organization run by Dagan, an outsider. “Many officers and analysts left, and many were shown the door,” Rami Ben-Barak, the former head of special operations in the Mossad, remembered. “Dagan only wanted the type of men and women in the agency who shared his vision and could meet his expectations. They had to be the best of the best. Dagan had a very specific set of priorities that he was determined to instill in the Mossad.”20 Dagan didn’t want mindless killers. He called such individuals psychopaths. He wanted men and women with purpose and talent.
Dagan believed that his work leading the Mossad was a sacred duty. His dedication went far beyond the State of Israel. “If a Jew was hurt or killed in a terrorist attack in Paris, Dagan wanted the men and women of the agency to feel responsible,” Ben-Barak stated, “it was their mission to protect Jews all over the world.”21
As the Mossad director, Dagan controlled an operational organization with numerous divisions and units: Tevel (World) was the branch that liaised with other intelligence services and controlled station chiefs based around the world; Tzomet (Node) was responsible for intelligence-gathering; Kesaria (Caesaria) was the agency’s special operations branch and its near-legendary subunit Kidon22 (Spear or Bayonet), according to published accounts, was a direct action force used for the most spectacular of operations;* Neviot (Springs) was responsible for gathering electronic intelligence; Bitzur was responsible for safeguarding Jewish interests worldwide and endangered Jewish communities; and several other smaller forces. Virtually every unit had their commanders replaced under Dagan. He completely rewired the organization and changed its command structure from top to bottom.
Under Meir Dagan’s leadership the Mossad’s primary mission was counterterrorism.23 There was an immediate emphasis on proactive missions to bring a sense of deterrence back to the Mossad. Dagan wanted Israel’s enemies to fear the Mossad once again. He was determined to bring the Mossad back to its glory days when daring, courage, and awe defined the agency’s operations.
Some generals on the NSC were pleased to see Dagan promoted to the Mossad helm. They viewed his new post as a possible career opportunity for themselves. Once eager to abandon the notion of Harpoon, these generals now wanted to lead the task force that the prime minister embraced with such exuberance. Dagan would have none of it. Harpoon was his baby and it was going to remain under his guidance. He was more than capable of taking the reins over two separate entities. Uri remained to serve as Harpoon’s deputy commander. Dagan made sure that most remained at their posts. Dagan felt confident going to war with the team he fielded.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Blood Money
I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies.
—Thomas Jefferson
The banker, whom we’ll call Adnan, didn’t know how the Israelis got hold of his special mobile phone number, the one that only his mistress called him on. The voice on the other end spoke fluent Arabic with a flawless Palestinian flair, but Adnan could guess that Hebrew was his native tongue. The caller was polite, though insistent. The caller wanted a sit-down meeting. No threats were made; quite the opposite, in fact. The caller told Adnan that he had his best interests at heart. He was a friend. To allay any concerns Adnan might have had that the person on the other end of the call wanted to kidnap him, the caller suggested that the meeting transpire in a public place, a restaurant; he’d feel safe there, he was assured. The caller explained to Adnan that all precautions would be made to ensure his security and anonymity in the meeting. The caller gave him the date, time, and place of the sit-down. Adnan was told to come hungry. The lunch specials were delicious.
Adnan ran a small, though successful, commercial bank. It was run out of the West Bank but had interests throughout the Arab world. The bank was by no means a financial powerhouse, but it was a mainstay in the Palestinian Authority and in some of the smaller towns, Area B, where Israel maintained security control and the Palestinians exercised political and law enforcement sovereignty. Adnan lived in a huge villa in Area A with a red clay roof and a garage large enough to accommodate a fleet of brand-spanking-new Mercedes-Benzes. His wife and children lived a privileged life; the older kids studied in universities abroad. A satellite dish brought television from around the world to the lavish home. The family vacationed in Europe and the United States.
Adnan was a good Muslim. He gave charity to the needy; he prayed five times a day. He was a good Palestinian, as well. He always gave assistance to the national liberation movements when asked to, and he always made sure Arafat’s lieutenants were looked after with tribute. There were accounts in his bank that belonged to men wanted by the Israelis. The money that flowed into these accounts was significant but not staggering. Adnan was certain that the Israelis wanted to talk to him about those funds. Adnan did business with Israeli banks, after all, and even at the height of the intifada he crossed back and forth between the PA and Israeli lines without much fuss. He knew he had to make the meeting.
The caller, the man who summoned Adnan, was named Shai U.* He was, by trade, a master at mental manipulation. His nickname was “the Illusionist.” All good spies were masters of men and the circuitry that controlled their brains and impulses. Shai had spent the better part of twenty years working for the Shin Bet, getting inside the minds and under the skins of difficult and special human targets. Unassuming and lanky, Shai was an experienced field hand who had spent more nights on stakeouts behind terrorist lines, his hand clutching his Beretta semiautomatic pistol, than he could remember. He was brilliant in recruiting and running highly valued assets, using rapport, reassurance, and a razor-sharp use of fear, to talk a terror suspect into revealing all that he knew. Shai had been described as “charming and enchanting.”
Shai joined Harpoon as a head of operations. Dagan had heard of his reputation and, when expanding his financial counterterrorist force, sought men who thought like him and would act like him. Yet what Shai added to Harpoon was significant. He brought a fresh and gritty approach to the espionage and diplomatic missions Dagan and his emissaries were planning. Although Shai was very different from Uri in style, temperament, and backgrounds, the two men became partners and, ultimately, close friends. They were known as the U2s, or Heckle and Jeckle. Both men would be dining with Adnan at lunch.
Uri and Shai plotted their meeting with a manipulative forethought that would have made George Smiley proud. They selected a restaurant that had outdoor seating; the sit-down was planned at high noon when the sun was its most unmerciful. Uri was jovial and friendly, but his barrel-sized chest and large forearms could appear menacing. He planned to sit closest to Adnan. Uri brought several binders crammed with papers. The papers were filled with research for his doctorate, but Adnan didn’t have to know. The two Israelis arrived first. For
security the Shin Bet had followed the Palestinian as soon as he crossed over Israel to ensure he came alone and was not coming with company. Adnan arrived on time, but the Israelis could tell he was nervous. He parked his brand-new Mercedes as if he was taking his driver’s test, making sure that he was in the center of the spot. Adnan wore a jacket and tie. He looked nervously around to make sure he wasn’t being followed.
Uri and Shai made it a point to sit Adnan so that the sun was in his eyes. The Israelis spoke in Arabic in a friendly tone, yet they let it be understood that they were clearly in charge. Both men spoke about family, and how the lunch meeting was to benefit Adnan’s wife and children. There were some bad men with violent intentions who had money going through Adnan’s bank, Uri and Shai explained, and this arrangement was fraught with danger and risk. Danger was bad for a man who lived so well, Adnan was told. It threatened his family’s wealth and security. When Uri spoke, Shai stared directly into Adnan’s eyes with laser-like focus. When Shai took over, specifically when he brought up the names of Hamas and PIJ commanders who received wire transfers through the bank, Uri searched his binders as if he was looking at classified files. Adnan perspired. When the sweat stained his button-down shirt, Shai asked the waitress to bring a pitcher of the restaurant’s signature lemonade with mint leaves. “Our friend is hot,” Uri told the young woman. “Make it extra cold.” The Israelis slowly drank coffee.