The Hand of The Prophet (Adventures of a spymaster Book 4)

by James Ward

  Taylor and another man would meet them at Kapikoy and Roche would be driven to Van, where he could get a flight to Istanbul.

  “That simple, Eh?” said Roche. “Where is the item I was supposed to carry?”

  Khazeh sent one of his men, who returned presently with the small ABS case. Roche eyed it carefully. “I’ll be right back,” he said carrying the case out to the hallway. Khazeh said nothing nor did he try to stop him.

  In the hallway, where Roche was alone, he opened the case. Inside carefully packed in soft material, he found the gold sack. In the gold sack was The Hand of Mohammed.

  “I’ll be damned,” he whispered to himself.

  It was the last thing he expected. Roche was sure that the thing had long since left the country without him. The fact that Taylor would personally meet him to receive the goods surprised Roche, so much for his theory that he had been written off.

  By noontime Roche and Kourosh were on their way to Tabriz. The two former spies hit it off and soon were exchanging stories about ‘the old days.’

  _________

  Ajir’s phone rang. He found it hard to believe that the man on the other end was who he said he was. After a few minutes of sparring, he became convinced that it really was Khazeh, the manager of Al Kafajy’s Tehran office. The two men were acquainted having done business in the past.

  “That was nasty business the other night in Mashhad,” Khazeh said.

  “What business?” Ajir feigned a lack of knowledge.

  “You know what I mean,” said Khazeh pointedly. “I want to tell you that the item you sought was not in Mashhad, but here in Tehran. I suppose you already figured that out.”

  Ajir let silent time go by then said, “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I like my job. I like my life. I do not wish to lose my job, nor do I wish to wind up like my colleague Irad. I want you to know that the item is no longer here. It is in transit as we speak and far enough away so you cannot intercept it.”

  “So, what’s next for each of us?” Ajir asked.

  “Nothing is next. I hope you will consider the matter closed. You took our property. We took it back. Each of us has lost a piece of real estate. It’s over.”

  “If you say so,” Ajir sighed.

  “I do say so. Call off your dogs, Ajir before everyone is destroyed over a trivial piece of crockery.”

  “Thanks for the call, Khazeh. I’ll consider what you say, but I will make up my own mind about the future.” Ajir clicked off.

  So, he thought, the item is on the move. He spent a busy hour on the phone with many contacts. One of them had the information he wanted to hear. His billion dollar deal was on its way to Tabriz.

  _________

  Ryall Morgan and Mort Lindsley had just briefed Bob Steck about the Saudis and the Wigglesworths. There was serious discussion about whether they could find use for Doctor Wigglesworth to bait the holder of The Hand of Mohammed into some sort of meeting. In effect, they would use him to gain access to whoever wound up with the thing after its whereabouts became known. They decided to table that notion until there was better knowledge of events.

  Just as Steck was ready to end the call, Morgan broke in. “Bob, I’ve got Randy Pullin on the line. He says he’s got credible information that The Hand of Mohammed has been in Tehran and that Roche is there with it. He says that a former Iranian agent has Roche under his wing and is planning to extract him to Turkey in the next few days. He thinks that Roche will be carrying The Hand with him.”

  “Patch him in and let’s discuss this,” urged Steck. While this was happening, Steck cursed his luck being stuck in Amman. Normal travel to extreme eastern Turkey would take at least two days.

  Pullin’s voice came on, joining the conference call. “Hey Steck, How are you?”

  Morgan’s voice answered, “Before you guys talk, please hear this: due to different encryption protocols, the patch to Randy Pullin is less secure than before. Be careful what you say.”

  “Right,” answered Steck. “So Randy, my understanding is you are tracking the item and have the locale. The problem is what do we do with that information?”

  “We act on it,” answered Pullin confidently. I have people on the ground ready to intercept and take possession of the item. They know the territory. They have been into Iran before through that area.” He was referring to Grundstrom and Brandt, along with others who had been waiting in eastern Turkey for weeks. “And,” he added, “I can get you from Amman to the scene within twelve hours if you want to take charge of the ground operation.”

  “Randy, I’m going to put you on hold while we caucus,” said Morgan.

  The members of the JUMP team discussed Pullin’s offer for a few minutes. Steck was concerned about following a single lead in case it turned out false. Lindsley asked why they should trust Pullin considering the Idaho affair. Morgan asked sardonically if they had any other leads to follow. Susan Deet offered that they could let Roche come back to the West but track him carefully. Then they would have more resources to bring to bear on the issue.

  I think we should go with this deal,” offered Morgan, “as long as we’re sure Steck is in charge.”

  Steck’s response was wary. “What if I get caught with pants down inside Iran with a bunch of armed Americans?” The last thing we need is another failed incursion.” He spoke from experience since he had been part of the fateful rescue operation during the American embassy hostage crisis. The memory of that fateful night, his first real armed field operation had burned like a hot coal in Steck’s heart for thirty years.

  “Just stay on the Turkish side of the border,” offered Lindsley.

  “It’s tough to tell where the border really is,” offered Steck. “I can’t be concerned about that if we are to be successful. Roche may have a local guide. If so, he’s smart enough to suck us across the border and hope we get grabbed. I want to go wherever it takes to get the item.” He didn’t like what he heard himself saying. It sounded crazy.

  They finally all agreed that they should get Presidential approval for the operation before committing to it.

  Back on the line with Randy Pullin, Morgan said, “Randy, here’s what we want to do: Please go ahead and move Bob Steck and whoever he wants to take with him to join your guys in Turkey. In the meantime, we need to get authorization from our superiors to proceed. It must be understood that nobody makes a move unless or until I authorize the plan directly through Bob Steck.”

  “Understood,” was Pullin’s reply. “This will work,” he added, “I’m sure it will work.”

  Mort Lindsley clicked off the line to Pullin. “I wish I shared that fellow’s optimism,” he drawled.

  CHAPTER 40

  The Saudi Arabian delegation of six security agents and a Prince had not returned to the kingdom after their meeting in Ashgabat. Instead they had flown first to New York where they consulted with their colleagues who kept tabs on Doctor Wigglesworth then they flew on to Paris.

  Mohammed Al Kafajy welcomed the Saudi Prince and his retinue with all the fanfare he could muster. They shared a sumptuous meal and lots of conversation after the Muslim custom of hospitality. After an appropriate time of sharing quotations from the Quran, Al Kafajy asked, “Why has Allah smiled on me today that I am blessed with your visit, Prince?”

  “I have come to know recent events surrounding the Prophet’s hand. I believe you do not have it at the moment but that you seek to regain it in time.” The prince sipped his coffee.

  “That is correct,” Al Kafajy replied. “Some unfortunate events took place in Amman recently and we lost contact with the item briefly. I expect to bring it back under my control very soon.”

  Ahmed, who sat quietly at a side table with the six Saudi security agents added, “Perhaps as early as tomorrow, may it please Allah we will have the treasure.” Al Kafajy gave Ahmed a stare that told him to be quiet.

  “When you again become the custodian of this treasure, I wish to purchase it from
you,” the Prince declared.

  “Forgive me Prince,” said Al Kafajy, “but we have offered the item to be sold under a competitive bid. Many worthy men wish to acquire it and we felt that the only fair way would….”

  The Prince cut him off in a raised but controlled voice. “The only fair transaction in this case would be to return it to its rightful owner which is The Kingdom. It was taken from us illegally by the Turks and must now be returned.”

  Al Kafajy worried that they might take it by force and he would be out of pocket. “But surely you must understand that we have incurred great expense to acquire it.”

  The Prince put his coffee down on the table in front of him. “It was the will of Allah for the hand of the Prophet to be among us as custodians and protectors for a thousand years. It must also be his will that it be returned to us. You will be paid out of our generosity a sum far greater than your reasonable expectations could be.”

  “And how did you determine my reasonable expectations?” Al Kafajy was getting hot.

  “Given the opening bid you yourselves announced, I expect you were thinking about more than fifty millions,” the Prince observed.

  “Fifty?” Al Kafajy was red in the face. “My expenses are more than that!”

  “In that case would two hundred million be fair?” The Prince was serene.

  “It would be in the arena,” Al Kafajy said. He knew he could not push too hard, lest the wrath of the Saudis be incurred.

  “Very well, my friend,” declared the Prince. A satisfied smile came across his face. “When we receive the Prophet’s hand and after we judge it to be in perfect condition, we will transfer one billion dollars to your accounts.”

  Al Kafajy guffawed. “A billion?” he said almost in a whisper.

  The Prince leaned across the table engaging Al Kafajy’s eyes. “See how Allah smiles on those who do his will?”

  “May he forever be praised,” said Al Kafajy with a satisfied smile.

  When the Saudis had taken their leave, Al Kafajy turned to Ahmed. “Our plans must be strengthened. Get Christian Taylor on the satellite phone right away.”

  _________

  Within an hour of their briefing with the JUMP team Steck, Marya Lukianov and two agents from Ravi’s staff were on board a twin Cessna headed for eastern Turkey. Bob had chosen Lukianov as one with proven experience. He knew first hand how good she was in a fire fight. The other two were Jordanians trained by the Royal Jordanian Special Forces, a pet project of King Abdullah himself. They were among the best fighters in the Middle East. The small cargo area of the Cessna was packed tightly with body armor, weapons and ammo. This was a small but formidable force. When combined with Pullin’s guys and whatever resources they had gathered in eastern Turkey they would be the best Steck could hope for.

  Steck reflected on their situation. The Al Kafajy faction had possession of the object. Ajir’s men would certainly be after it. Steck’s coalition of Americans, Jordanians, Canadians and mercenaries must intercept it in Iranian territory and might have to fight both the Al Kafajy and Ajir people to get it. After getting possession of The Hand they would have to get out of Iran undetected. Then there was Roche. His cunning had somehow kept him alive through an incredible series of events against amazing odds. Maybe this time Steck would finally have an opportunity to deal with him once and for all.

  Pondering these things that he knew, Steck worried what he did not know. He knew Ajir had been in contact with the Kurds. What about the Iranians? Certainly the Ayatollahs would have great interest in the item and the means to make a play for it, especially if they knew it was in their country. Now the Saudis seemed to be involved. How hot was the trail they were following? The prize had resided in Turkmenistan for a while. Would the Turkmen government believe they had rights to it? Would they be chasing it themselves?

  In the end Steck came to realize that there could be dozens of factions after the figurine and he could never plan to counter them all. He would just have to adjust on the fly to whatever developed. Apprehension was the most positive feeling he could apply to his situation.

  _________

  Abu Daimb, third in authority in the Taliban slipped undetected into Iran over the porous eastern border with Afghanistan under a false passport and identity. Making his way to Tehran where there are a million Sunnis living in repression by the Shiite Ayatollahs he met about two dozen militants trained at various times by the Taliban and planted as moles of sorts into the Tehran community. They were members of a secret Sunni political group with relations to Al Qaeda. Their agenda was to put political pressure on the Iranian government to improve the lot of Sunnis who are a clear minority in Iran.

  Although at the beginning of the Iranian Islamic revolution Ayatollah Khomeini had proclaimed his desire for good relations with the Sunnis, his successors had routinely discriminated against them. This community of over a million in the capital of Iran was not allowed to even have one mosque.

  Abu Daimb walked a political tightrope with the Ayatollahs because they represented a key and growing supply line to the Taliban, but were after all Shiites who repressed his Sunni brothers.

  In the present case, he sought a prize that he believed had the potential to shift the balance of power in the Islamic world toward the Taliban’s cause. After learning of the approximate whereabouts of The Hand of Mohammed Abu Daimb now organized these twenty-four fighters to pursue it. On the Turkish side of the border at the town of Ercis, three Sunni sympathizers of the Taliban waited to extract the men after their operation was completed.

  In the early morning of the day Roche arrived in Tabriz with Kourosh Menzadah, a bus left Tehran with the twenty-four Taliban on board. The driver dropped twelve of them at Qotur then headed north to drop the rest at

  Maku. Satisfied that he had both probable routes to Turkey covered, Abu Daimb slipped back across the border into Afghanistan and raced back toward the eastern mountains where he could watch events unfold from the safety of his communications center.

  _________

  Chris Taylor had lodged just outside of Van in eastern Turkey. He and one of the men who worked at the Al Kafajy office in Istanbul would wait for Roche to come across the border, if he ever made it. This part of Turkey was far more provincial than the western parts and the locals did not trust outsiders. Even if Roche made it across the border he would not be home free. Chris himself felt awfully conspicuous in a place where Brits were ill-treated at best and sometimes disappeared without a trace.

  During the night, Taylor’s satphone buzzed, waking him from fitful sleep. He sat up in bed, scratched his unruly hair, rubbed sleep from his eyes then answered the phone.

  “Taylor.” He said with a sleepy voice.

  “Hello Christian!” It was the unmistakable voice of the boss. “Is everything set?

  “Y-yes sir,” Chris replied. “Our men are in place. They all know their roles. We should complete this part of the plan tomorrow.”

  “Good!” The boss sounded happy. “Call me as soon as you have everything accomplished.”

  “Of course sir, I will call you first.” Who else would he call? Chris thought.

  “I had a visit from a certain Prince today,” the boss announced. “His group is very interested in the item. That presents a certain complication. We will talk about it when you reach Paris.”

  “Okay,” Chris responded. He felt it strange that the boss would call him with such trivial news. “Don’t worry,” Chris added, “this is all going as planned.”

  Since he was now quite awake, Chris fumbled around and found his cigarettes. He lit up and took a deep draught. Blowing the smoke into the light from his bedside lamp, he pondered the conversation he had just completed with the boss. “He’s just nervous,” he said to himself.

  The phone rang again. “Blazes,” Chris thought, “What does he want now?”

  He picked up the satphone. “Taylor.” He announced.

  It was Khazeh from Tehran. “Chris, there is a
bad complication. The MOIS came here and took Som into custody a few hours ago. I called my friend at headquarters and he said Som is being interrogated at Evin prison. He has broken down and spilled the information about our guest. I took certain articles and papers and hid them in a safe place, but you know they will be back for me in the morning. They may even come to my house before morning, the way those jackals operate.”

  Chris had stood and was pacing as Khazeh spoke. The Ministry of Intelligence and Security (MOIS) was the Iranian secret police. “Be calm, Khazeh,” he said, “You did the right thing by removing the sensitive items from the office. When they come try to discredit Som’s story and invite them to search the office. Get your family out of the city now. Do they have a place to go?” He knew the MOIS had a habit of holding family members as a threat to obtain information from persons of interest to them.

  “They are already in the car, going to a place I have reserved for such an occasion.” Khaseh sounded in control.

  “Good,” Taylor replied. “After they complete a search and find nothing, contact our friends in the government and express outrage.”

  “I must tell you, Chris that Som knew Roche only as Jacob Breen. They had become friendly during his stay here. I have no way of knowing what other knowledge Som may have of this affair.” Khazeh was being very thorough as usual.

  “Thank you for that input,” Chris answered. “Call me when you have more to tell me.” Taylor clicked off. He lit another cigarette and sat on the edge of his bed to think.

  _________

  The bus containing Ajir’s militiamen stood outside a small Inn near Tabriz. The innkeeper, a friend of Ajir had closed the place for what the sign on his door proclaimed “a private party.” The men had been fed and bedded down for the night.

  The innkeeper became frightened when he saw all the weapons and equipment that the men carried. As soon as everything was quiet, he rang Ajir’s paternal home in Tehran and asked to speak with his friend. After a long silence, Ajir came on the line. “Hello my friend how is everything?”