Hi-Tech Hijack

by Dov Nardimon

  Eddie hit Send and prayed the system wasn’t blocked and that the e-mail was sent right away. He went to the Sent items and deleted his message, then did the same in the Recycle Bin.

  Eddie decided not to take any more chances. He had to get back quickly so he didn’t check Isabella’s files and e-mails that may have provided answers to some of his questions. He had to see if he could get an outside line on the phone. He picked up the receiver and pressed 8, and when that didn’t work, he pressed 9 and heard the signal sound. He quickly put the receiver back in its place, went from Isabella’s room directly to the bathroom, flushed the toilet, and came back out into the lab hall, fussing with his belt, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Reuben was busy with the PCR machine, and the guard was sitting by the door, looking bored as ever.

  Eddie sat down and started flipping through an Ebocell-Tech procedures booklet, trying to put his thoughts in order. He summed up some conclusions from the exploration of Isabella’s room.

  The computer was available.

  An outside line was available on the phone by pressing 9.

  He didn’t know what country they were in and so couldn’t know what number he would have to dial to place an international call, but hoped it would be 00, like in most parts of the world.

  He had no way of knowing if the outgoing calls were being recorded or monitored.

  He could only hope Ronit would see his message and act as soon as possible. He would have to wait two more days before trying to make contact again.

  Doing his short-circuit bathroom move again might draw suspicion. He had to find another way of getting into Isabella’s room.

  Chapter 49

  Ronit had an arduous night of work at the hospital on Saturday. A week had passed and still there was no news of Eddie and Reuben. On Sunday morning when her shift was over, she called Nir.

  “No news, Ronit. Hopefully we’ll hear something today. How was work?”

  “Busy, which was good. It helped get my mind of things for a bit.”

  “Are you going home?”

  “Not sure yet. I might just walk around for a while. Maybe I’ll muster up the courage and go see Eddie’s parents.”

  “You’ve worked all night. You should try and get some sleep.”

  Ronit took a deep breath of fresh morning air, a spring morning in early May. The sun was shining bright, and Ronit turned to it and relished in its warmth after a long night under the cold neon lights. It had rained through most of the night, the last of that year’s rains, and the air was clean. Ronit breathed in the soothing smell of moist soil from nearby orange orchards.

  She stepped into her little Citroën Saxo, intending to drive home. Then she wondered whether she would be able to sleep, but knew she was too stressed for that to happen. She felt weighed down by the obligation to keep Eddie’s parents updated. There was no one waiting for her at home anyway, and Shooli, her green-eyed Angora cat, was fine being left on its own as long as there was food in its bowl.

  She called Michal, a childhood friend who had moved to Hofit near the beach just outside Hefer Valley after getting married and had asked her to meet at a coffee house on the beach for a late breakfast. She decided she wasn’t going to tell her about Reuben’s disappearance. She knew she wasn’t going to have to speak that much anyway. Michal would do the talking for the both of them. She had a baby a few months before and hadn’t returned to work yet, so she was thrilled at the opportunity to leave the house for a while.

  “Sounds great,” Michal said. “My Itzik is also abroad and other than on the phone, I haven’t spoken to anyone in days.”

  Half an hour later, the three of them met at the coffee house on the beach—Ronit, Michal, and her baby all wrapped up from head to toe. Ronit had an Israeli breakfast—an omelet, fresh chopped salad, and a glass of grapefruit juice. Michal, who was still working on losing the excess baby weight, just had a large cappuccino with cocoa powder and a few drops of vanilla syrup.

  The conversation went on with Michal doing most of the talking while Ronit tried to clear her mind of her worries and focus on her hearty breakfast. Michal went on and on about the baby, the difficulties of breastfeeding, or some gossip about some friends they both knew. Ronit listened half-heartedly, happy to hear how well marriage and motherhood were serving her friend. She couldn’t shake off the frightening thoughts of Eddie and Reuben’s disappearance, and the troubles of her own marriage that had gone so terribly wrong the past year. Only at the end of the meal, when Ronit ordered a double espresso, did Michal finally ask, “And what’s up with you?”

  “Nothing worth mentioning.”

  “I understand you’re doing extremely well at work.”

  “I am, but that doesn’t feel like much when you have nothing to return to at the end of the day.”

  “Is there something going on between you and Reuben?”

  “That’s just it, there’s nothing going on between us.”

  “You mean in the bedroom?”

  “That’s just one part of it. The problem is that we’ve lost all connection. It’s like we don’t have anything in common anymore. He’s so greedy, and it’s driving me crazy. Money is all he can think about. He’s become totally obsessed with one of his investors, spends evening after evening on his yacht with him, and comes back all euphoric, which turns into depression the next morning. He stopped showing any interest in bed, and frankly I’m not attracted to him either anymore.”

  “Is he seeing anyone?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m not even sure he can be intimate. I suspect he’s started using marijuana or something and likes the thrill in that more than conventional sex with a square doctor like me.”

  “I actually heard the combination of drugs and sex can do wonders to a relationship.” Michal smiled knowingly.

  “That’s when both parties are using. Even then they think they’re doing more than they actually are. Anyway, I’m not going to go along with him on that.”

  “Have you talked to him about it?”

  “I have, and he denied being on anything.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. There’s someone who wants me, and I like him, too, and I might go for it,” she said, immediately wishing she could take it back. Michal was her good friend, but she knew how indiscreet she could be.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me anything about him?”

  “I’ve said too much as it is. Promise me this stays between us.”

  “Ronit, I’m hurt. I know I tell you a bit of gossip about mutual friends, but that’s nothing like our relationship. You’re my best friend, and I wouldn’t dream of passing on any of the things we talk about.”

  “Ok, Michal. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed and tired. I trust you, and it’s good to know I have you to talk to freely.”

  “Relatively freely,” said Michal, smiling.

  “Yes, well, relative to me.” Ronit smiled back and stroked the cheek of her good friend.

  They said good-bye, and Ronit headed to Kefar Heffer to the home of Rachel and Arye Bartal, Eddie’s parents. She decided to drop by unannounced because she knew if she called ahead it would only cause them more concern. However tired she was, she still felt a bit better after her talk with Michal. On the road she called Nir again, and again he had to say there was still no news.

  “Nir, what’s going to happen? Maybe we shouldn’t keep the whole thing quiet? Maybe we should contact the media? Someone must have seen them somewhere in Switzerland. They couldn’t have just disappeared off the face of the earth”

  “We’ll do that if no new leads turn up by tomorrow, but let’s just hold on for a little bit longer.”

  “I’m going to see Eddie’s parents.”

  “Yes, you should do that.”

  Ronit spent a long while with Eddie’s parents, telling them everything she knew so far. “It’s crucial that you keep this quiet at this point. It’s important that even Eddie’s sisters oversea
s don’t hear about this just yet.”

  The two tough farmers could not conceal their emotions and said good-bye to Ronit.

  “Keep us posted, Ronit,” Rachel said and kissed Ronit on the cheek.

  “We trust you both. You got him out of the disease safely, and now it’s your brother’s turn to find him.” Arye smiled, putting on a brave face, and hugged Ronit.

  If only it were that simple, thought Ronit as she made her way back home.

  When she got home, Shooli the cat happily ran to her, rubbing against her legs. Ronit picked him and held him, and he purred at her lovingly. With Shooli still in her arms, she walked to the bedroom, but as she passed by the study, she noticed she had left the computer on. The fish and butterflies screen saver was flickering. She pressed the space bar, and her mail inbox full of new e-mails filled the screen.

  She wasn’t in the mood to go over them all and just browsed the sender names. She knew everyone there—it was mostly all work related. But one sender was unfamiliar, and she was intrigued by the message. It came from Isabellao@org.com.

  Ronit opened the message and was amazed to find it was from Eddie. It had been sent an hour before. With Shooli on her lap, Ronit sat down and tried to check the Tools and Message menus to see who the sender was, but no other information was available.

  The adrenaline made her heart beat crazy fast. At once she was no longer tired and sat in front of the computer, her heart pounding, trying to figure out what to do. She picked up the phone and called Nir’s cell phone. There was no answer, and the call went to voicemail. Ronit left a message asking Nir to call her back as soon as possible, and within less than five minutes, she got a call back.

  “What did you answer him?” Nir asked immediately after she read him the message.

  “I didn’t. He warned me not to write back so that he wouldn’t get caught sending it.”

  “Forward it to me, and I’ll have someone try and trace it. There’s something here I have to wrap up, and I’ll come straight over.”

  “Thanks. Come quickly.” She put down the phone and slumped in exhaustion into the TV lounger in the living room. Shooli jumped into her lap and she stroked him absent-mindedly. Then she got up, put out some cat food in Shooli’s bowl, and ran a hot bath for herself. The soothing touch of the soapy water after more than thirty hours of activity calmed her aching body a bit, but she couldn’t give in to the pleasure. She stepped out of the tub a few minutes later, her mind buzzing with concern over Eddie and Reuben.

  Two hours after they spoke on the phone, Nir arrived at her house. He gave Ronit a hug, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “I’m so happy you came; I’ve been going crazy in here.”

  “Make me a cup of coffee, and I’ll tell what I have so far.”

  “Black, one Sweet’N Low as usual, right? But you have to try this cake. I’ve been so nervous, I had to keep myself busy with something,” she said and handed him a piece of warm apple pie.

  “Thanks, smells great. You know stuff that goes on abroad is usually handled by Mossad, and I’ve already contacted some friends there; but I also found some significant information we have.” Nir took a small sip of coffee and went on. “We’ve traced the source of the e-mail. It really is from PSSIC, which stands for Palestinian-Saudi Scientific Incubators.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, fearful but hopeful at the same time.

  “It’s a public institution that was built in Saudi Arabia with the king’s blessing. It provides a home and budget for Palestinian scientists wanting to develop hi-tech industries. The technological incubator model was actually copied from us in Israel, and the Saudis were happy to sponsor the idea when it came up. That way they get credit for aiding the Palestinians in projects of progress and peace. And it allows them to neutralize anger and pressures from the large Palestinian minority they have that is mostly employed doing the kingdom’s menial jobs no one else wants to do.

  “The UN, or more precisely UNESCO, supports this institution and provides funds and guidance, and other countries have also been called upon and agreed to make donations and to give engineering assistance to construct it. Professors from the donor countries have been sent by their governments for a so-called service year in the academic campus. Among the donors are Iran, Venezuela, Argentina, South Africa, and some Scandinavian countries.

  “They set up a veritable scientific town, which we can clearly see in satellite footage. It’s situated in the desert city of Al-Yamamah, about sixty miles south of Riyadh on the road leading east toward the Persian Gulf, and it looks like an ordinary university campus. What makes us and Mossad so interested in this project is one of its biggest sponsors, who is responsible for a hefty chunk of the hundreds of millions of dollars the construction is estimated to cost: the largest family-owned construction company in Saudi Arabia and the entire Middle East, the Bin Laden family. As an experienced construction company, they also volunteered to manage and oversee the campus construction.”

  “Oh my god! Are they the brothers of that infamous, insane terrorist?”

  “Terrorist, yes. Insane, maybe. But certainly no fool.”

  Ronit grabbed her head with both hands and bowed it down. “That’s the last thing we needed,” she whispered.

  “The Bin Ladens are one of the wealthiest families in Saudi Arabia. Their primary business, at least what is common knowledge, is in real estate. They are very big contractors and have investments all over the world. They even have properties in the United States. In the last decade or so, with the growth of the hi-tech bubble, they went into investments in that area, too. We even know of Israeli companies that have sold some parts to factories the Bin Ladens own. All in good faith, obviously. Since their terrorist brother became infamous, known worldwide, his family has used every opportunity they had to announce they have broken all contact with him; but we suspect they are secretly keeping in touch and that the Saudi government knows, but is turning a blind eye. The Bin Ladens have a huge amount of influence on the Saudi economy, and the government has no interest in making them take their businesses elsewhere. Also, the Saudis have no desire to politically oppose such a powerful, influential family, not as long as the terrorists make sure not to perform any actions in their homeland. We looked into the attacks against American targets in Saudi Arabia in the last year and found no connection to Bin Laden.”

  “So this campus is an innocent center for grooming Palestinian scientists?”

  “That’s how it’s defined. But since the Bin Ladens are involved, as well as so many countries that are hostile to Israel, the Mossad is keeping a close eye. The e-mail from Eddie shines a new light on the whole thing. I’m expecting a call from a friend at Mossad. I asked him to go over everything they have on PSSIC. It’s very likely that information that seemed harmless until now will be given a new interpretation in light of the kidnapping. After all, we know what Reuben’s company does. I’m sure you know there have been rumors that the Soviets tried to use the Ebola virus as a kind of biological weapon. Even in the intertribal wars in Africa, there have been some primitive attempts to infect enemies with the virus. Ebocell-Tech’s development can certainly be of interest to terrorist factors.”

  Ronit’s home phone rang and interrupted their talk. She rushed to pick up, and on the line was a man named Uri asking for Nir. After a short conversation, Nir asked Ronit to pick up the other phone and join in.

  “Hello, Ronit. I’ve updated Nir on some details, but I think it’s important to fill you in as well so that if Eddie or Reuben make contact, you’ll know what to answer and what to ask.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “At the PSSIC campus, there aren’t just Palestinian and Saudi workers. We have the names of several Americans of Palestinian descent working there. Also, there’s a couple of Argentinian scientists—the husband is Professor Alfonso Ostreicher and his wife is Dr. Isabella. The professor is considered a leading expert in physics, and his wife is involved in biotechn
ology. As their last name suggests, they are of German origin. The CIA’s South America desk is looking into their background as we speak. This kidnapping certainly changes our perception of the campus and its employees.”

  Uri was silent for a moment, then said, “I just received a lengthy fax from the CIA archive in Washington about the Argentinian scientists. Do you have a fax machine at home?”

  “Yes, here’s the number.” Ronit gave it to Uri.

  “I’m faxing it. We’ll go over it at the same time. We’ll tap your phone so if you get a call, wait four or five rings before you pick up so we don’t miss anything. We’ll also tap your e-mail account.”

  “Ok, but what are you going to do other than that? How are we going to get them out of there?”

  “I don’t know yet, Ronit. This is an extremely complicated situation. I see the fax is coming through. Let’s go over it together quickly.”

  Chapter 50

  Alfonso Ostreicher was born in Argentina in 1946, two years after his mother emigrated from Germany. His father, Gerhard Ostreicher, was the commander of a German submarine fleet that roamed the Atlantic Ocean on a mission to take out American cargo ships carrying military supplies and equipment from the eastern harbors of the United States to the Allied powers on the Normandy coast heading east toward Germany. The German fleet consisted of six submarines and a supply ship. The ship was divided into two parts. Its lower part was used as a fuel tank for the submarines’ diesel powered engines, and on its deck were stored food and ammunition supplies.

  The fleet left Germany in late 1944 when the Reich was nearing its end. Vice Admiral Ostreicher was ordered to take into consideration a stay of possibly several years at sea—“until victory or sacred death on the shrine of the thousand year Reich.” With these words, the commander of the German Navy dispatched the fleet from the Port of Hamburg in October 1944, shortly before the ice was threatening to block the exit from the Baltic Sea to the Atlantic Ocean. The supply ship was to return to a base in Argentina and restock after each round of supplying fuel and other necessities to the submarines. The meeting point for the ship with the submarines was just south of Cuba so as not to drag the submarines too far away from the shores of the United States.