by Greg Iles
that double's murder just five weeks ago. KGB Chairman Zemenek stated
his belief that the killing had been done by an assassin paid by Sir
Neville Shaw of Britain's mI-5. Borodin admired the nerve and
resourcefulness shown by Vasili Zinoviev and Helmut Steuer, but the rest
of the story essentially bored him.
Except for the part about the blackmail. When Borodin saw how Churchill
had forced Joseph Stalin to keep silent about the Hess affair, he had
come instantly alert. Because he saw then how important the recently
discovered Spandau papers could be to KGB Chairman Zemenek. The Spandau
papers could conceivably clear the way for the Kremlin to tell the world
what it knew about British collaboration with the Nazis during the war,
and thus force them to share responsibility for the Holocaust. Borodin
also saw that if he were the man who recovered those papers, his already
advanced career would take a critical leap forward.
He had only one problem. At the end of the Hess file he had found a
message inserted by the chairman of the KGB.
It said: Borodin: General Secretary Gorbachev currently exploring
possibility of collaborating with U.S. State Department regarding joint
disclosure of the truth about Hess's mission. Do nothing to antagonize
any U.S. operatives you may encounter in pursuit of the Spandau papers.
British operatives fair game.
Zemenek Yuri Borodin wiped his mouth with his napkin, shoved his empty
plate aside, and pulled the file to him. He reread Chairman Zemenek's
note. At this point, he reflected, another agent in his position might
have trouble digesting the meal, since less than eighteen hours ago he
had tortured and executed an American Army Intelligence major. But
Borodin wasn't worried. The Hess file had told him one thing: if he
returned to Moscow with the Spandau papers, no one would ask whom he had
killed to get them.
He glanced at his watch. The next flight to South Africa took off in
just under four hours. Borodin chuckled. The big German.Kripo
detective had not arrived from Berlin yet, but he would, with
predictable German punctuality. And then he would lead Yuri Borodin to
the Spandau papers like an elephant leading a lion to water.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
n rsgo ll.-35 A.m. El Al Flight 331: Zoirea Al co The deadliest woman in
the world stepped out of the forward lavatory of the 747
looking like a grandmother on holiday, a role she assumed with ease.
Swallow's stylish outfit reflected modest wealth; her hair shone with
the almost-blue tint unique to elderly ladies still courting their
vanity; and she smelled of body powder and a very expensive vintage
perfume-an alluring concoction called Claire de Lune. She carefully
made her way up the first-class aisle, then, just as she passed Jonas
Stern, she stumbled. She cried out in Yiddish-a nice touch-and landed
directly beside Stern's seat. Gadi Abrams, who'd been sitting in the
seat across the aisle, leaped up and helped her to her feet.
"Thank you, young man," she said weakly, her face flushed with
embarrassment. "I'm afraid I'm not used to airplanes."
Stern glanced up. Had he met the woman's eyes, he might have seen the
danger; he might even have recognized her by the dark fire that burned
there. But he might not have. The road that had led Swallow to this
airplane was a long and tortuous one. In any case, he did not meet her
eyes. He glanced over at Professor Natterman, . who slept noisily
beside him, then went back to reading his El Al magazine.
"This flight seems as though it will never end," SwaHow complained.
4.ltls a long one," Gadi agreed.
"How much longer, do you think?"
"About five hours."
Swallow sighed. "It's worth it in spite of everything. My
granddaughter just turned eighteen months old, and I've yi to see her."
"She lives in JohannesburgT' Gadi inquired politely.
"No, Pietersburg. It's far to the north, I think."
Gadi nodded. "Are you all right now?"
"Yes, but I'd better sit down. Thank you again."
Swallow slowly made her way to her seat, one of three near the spiral
staircase leading up to the 747's cocktail lounge. After situating a
small pillow behind her head, she pulled a romance novel from her
handbag. Glancing up for a moment, she caught Gadi staring.
The Israelis were professionals-she had to admit that. Though Jonas
Stern sat only four rows behind her, his three young escorts had
surrounded him in a protective triangle. And with Stern in an aisle
seat, no one meaning harm to his slumbering companion could get to him
without going through all four Israelis first-an impossible task. Stern
himself, however, was a different matter. Swallow could have taken him
as she passed only moments ago.
In a way she had. While Gadi helped her up, she had pressed an
adhesive-barked microtransmitter against the underside of Stern's seat.
Everything the Israelis said during the remainder of the flight would be
pick@d up by a tiny receiver in the flesh-toned hearing aid she wore in
her right ear. The unit whistled for a few seconds as she dialed in the
frequency, but she could clearly hear Professor Natterman snoring in his
seat by the window.
"This is Captain Lev Ronen," announced a disembodied voice with the
accent of a Sabra, or native-born Israeli. "As a point of interest, we
are now crossing the equator. And about four hundred miles to our left
is Lake Victoria, Africa's largest lake and the source of the Nile. I'm
sure our first-time travelers will be glad to know that as we cross into
the southern hemisphere, the seasons are reversed. That means we're
flying into summer. We should arrive in Johannesburg on schedule at
5:40 Pm. South African time, and we hope everyone is having a pleasant
flight."
Gadi Abrams leaned across the aisle toward Stern. "Also about four
hundred miles to our left," he said, mocking the if, lo rth captain's o
icious tone, ,is Entebbe, site of the July u , 1976, rescue of-over a
hundred Israelis from the hands of international terrorists." His tone
changed to indignation.
"You'd think they'd mention it, at least. We are on El Al, for God's
sake."
Stern gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Old news, Gadi.
Besides, you never know who's flying El Al. We don't want to offend the
paying customers."
Four rows ahead, Swallow smiled with satisfaction. The conversation had
come in loud and clear over her receiver.
"I'm surprised at the number of passengers," Gadi remarked.
"Since you arranged the flight privately, I didn't expect any."
Stern chuckled softly. "I arranged this flight thirty hours ago.
General Avigur said he would get me to South Africa.
He didn't say he @ouldn't tly to defray the cost any way he could."
"I don't like it."
"Two passengers are always air marshals," Stern reminded him.
"Leave the security to them for once and go to sleep. It might be your
only chance for a while."
"You're not sleeping."
; Stern reclined his plush seat and closed his eyes. "Good night."
Gadi pulled a wry face and glanced around the First Class cabin.
The blue-haired grandmother was the only other passenger up here.
That meant the air marshals had to be in Tourist. He considered walking
the length of the plane once more to try to pick them out, but decided
against it. Stern was right: he needed rest. The old woman was
certainly no threat. Reclining his seat, Gadi closed his eyes and, like
professional soldiers everywhere, dropped off to sleep only moments
after making the decision to do so. His last mental picture was of
himself helping the old grandmother to her feet, his good deed for the
day.
As the "grandmother" pretended to concentrate on the novel in her lap, a
new voice mumbled in her receiver. Professor Natterman had awakened.
"What time is it?" he asked groggily.
"Almost lunchtime," Stern answered, half-asleep already.
"How do you feel?"
"I feel like getting some answers is how I feel," Natterman grumbled. "I
think it's time you told me your half of the story."
Stern opened his eyes and turned irritably toward the professor, but the
large white bandage over Natterman's lacerated nose kept him civil. He
jerked his head toward Gad reminding the professor of their agreement
not to discuss anything- about Rudolf Hess. "What do you want to know,
Professor?"
"Everything. What about this Phoenix AG? Why did you come to Berlin in
the first place? I want to know why Ilse was taken to South Africa.
What's the significance of that?"
Stern looked over at Gadi. "I've thought a lot about that," he
murmured. "And I'm sorry to disappoint you, but your Nazi angle doesn't
fit here. At least not in the way you think. The Afrikaners are white
supremacists, of course, but that's no secret. They fought against
Hitler during the war, and damned valiantly. And in spite of their
prejudice against blacks, they@ve got a pretty good record on Jews. They
allowed a great deal of Jewish immigration during the war, which is more
than a lot of countries did."
"What about the present day? What are their ties with Germany?"
Stern shook his head. "Limited. During the past several years, South
Africa has quiedy developed extremely close relations with another
country in a very similar geopolitical situation. That country is not
West Germany, however, but Israel. It doesn't sound like we're flying
ifito a nest of neoNazis, does it?"
"No," Natterman agreed. "But you obviously have some suspicions about
South Africa and Germany. Where is the fox in the henhouse?"
"South Africa's nuclear program. The darkest corner of this dark
country."
"Does South Africa actually possess nuclear weapons?
I've heard it speculated in the news, but never confirmed."
Stern smiled wryly. "Oh, I can confirm it for you. In 1979, an
American VELA satellite detected a distinctive double flash off the
South African coast, in the South Atlantic. That flash was the result
of a joint nuclear test carried out by South Africa and Israel."
"How do you know that?"
"Because for all practical purposes, Professor, Israel gave South Africa
the bomb. Nuclear weapons are one of the main pillars of the
Israeli/South Africa relationship."
" What? "
"it was an inevitable partnership. Israel developed its first bomb in
1968, but we had several limitations. We couldn't test our weapons
without being detected; South Africa had vast deserts and two oceans. We
needed raw uranium and other strategic minerals; South Africa had
extensive reserves. South Africa also had a great deal of ready cash.
But the main tie was psychological, emotional. As the world closed
ranks against apartheid, South Africa grew ever more isolated. Before
long it was an international pariah surrounded by hostile enemies. The
siege mentality was a natural reaction, and we in Israel are the masters
of that particular neurosis."
"But how do you know all this, Stern?"
The Israeli looked at Natterman for a long time. "You asked me before
if I worked for the Mossad, Professor.
Right now I am exactly what I told you in the beginning, a retiree. But
I have done a bit of work for several government agencies.
Shin Beth and the Mossad, yes, but my longest service was with an agency
called LAKAM. Have you heard of it?"
Natterman shook his head.
"LAKAM is Israel's nuclear security force. Not in the sense of
operating the weapons, but in protecting them.
LAKAM safeguarded Israel's nuclear program from inception to completion.
That's why I know so much about the South African program."
"And is this LAKAM work what led you to Berlin? To Spandau?"
"Not exactly. What led me to Spandau was a chain of facts. A very
fragile chain with four links that spans three decades. The first link
wag a warning note-an anonymous, cryptic note written in Cyrillic
handwriting and delivered to Israel in 1967. It warned of terrible
danger to Israel and spoke of 'the fire of An-nageddon.' This note
claimed that the secret of this danger could be found in Spandau.
That, of course, was a very broad hint. Did the writer mean Spandau the
city? Spandau the prison? What? Two days later, the Six-Day War broke
out and the note was dismissed as a warning of the Egyptian attack,
probably written by a Russian with a conscience."
Stern rubbed his temples. "Now, ump ahead to the early 1970s. I was
working for LAKAM by then, and we in the agency became aware that
certain German scientistsformer Third Reich physicists-were working in
the rocketry section of South Africa's nuclear program. This by itself
was not unusual. After all, it was German scientists who built the
bombs for America and Russia. But when you c sider that the prime
minister of South Africa in 1979-the year of the secret Israeli/South
African nuclear test-was John Vorster, a man who had supported the Nazis
during World War Two, it takes on a rather different significance.
"Now, let's jump ahead again, to the 1980s. It was then, through
contacts in the Mossad, that I became aware of a neo-fascist police
organization called Bruderschaft der Phoenix, headquartered in West
Berlin-"
"Phoenix!" Natterman exclaimed. "Hurry, Stern, tell me!"
"Again, this by itself was not of great import. It took the fourth and
final link to join the others in my mind. Just three weeks ago, the
Israeli Foreign Ministry received a typed warning from an anonymous
source. The writer obviously knew of the secret Israeli/South African
nuclear partnership, and stated that he had personal knowledge that
there were some in the South African defense establishment who had
anything but Israel's best interests at heart.
The writer claimed he believed that Israel might actually be in danger
of a nuclear attack, and that the best line of inquiry for us to pursue
was with a South African defense contractor called Phoenix AG."
Natterman caught his breath. After several moments, he said, "
Forgive
me, Stern, but there's something I don't understand here. You told me
you were retired. This situation seems serious enough. that Israel
would be making a significant effort to investigate it."
Stern's smile carried the bitterness of a lifetime's disillusionment.
"You would think that, wouldn't you? But some people don't see it that
way, Professor. South Africa is Israel's nuclear partner, remember? No
one in Jerusalem wants to upset that status quo.
The Israeli/South African 'special relationship' is so close that, as we
speak, a secret contingency plan exists to remove South Africa's entire
stockpile of nuclear weapons to Israel in the event, that the blacks
appear likely to overthrow the government."
Natterman's eyes grew wide. "My God. This is all so unbelievable. Why
would Israel sup orta repressive, even genocidal state like South
Afiica) "The Israeli people probably wouldn't, Professor. But decisions
guiding Israel's nuclear program were never voted on in the Knesset.
Israel's nuclear policy is formed by a very few men who happen to hold
the key positions in the government." Stern sighed. "And some men will
do anything in the name of survival. For some Jews, the Holocaust
justifies any act to prevent a repetition of history, even a preemptive
Holocaust perpetrated by Jews." Stern reached beneath his seat,
withdrew an orange from his leather bag, and slowly began to peel it.
"Professor, how much do you know about Israel's resistance to the
British during the Mandate and World War Two?"
Natterman shrugged. "I know about the Haganah."
"What about the Zionist terrorist groups?"
"The Stern Gang and the Irgun?"
"Yes.
"Some. Which did you fight with?"
"That is unimportant now. What matters is that prior to World War Two,
both groups violently resisted the British occupation of Palestine. But
when the war broke out, the two groups split. The Irgun supported the
British, rightly believing that Israel could never be born in a world
under Hitler. But the Stern Gang believed that driving out the British
was more important than defeating the Nazis."
Natterman's eyes widened in disbelief "The Stern Gang actually sent
delegations to meet with representatives of Hitler's Reich and
Mussolini's Italy. They actually promised to fight for the influence of
Germany and Italy in the Middle East, if Hitler and Mussolini would