by Ty Patterson
Zeb led her to an elevator manned by a guard.
‘Fifth,’ he told the man.
The kidon waited outside. Pressed the button to shut the doors when everyone was inside.
Zeb jammed his leg between the sliding panels. ‘You, too,’ he told her.
Carmel looked at him quizzically for a moment and then joined him. Her eyes swept over the ambassador and the twins. Spotted the barely concealed smirk on Beth’s face.
‘Something’s up?’ she asked Zeb.
‘You’ll see,’ Beth chortled.
They arrived at their floor and the entourage moved swiftly on soft carpet. Two guards outside a conference room.
‘Just two guards?’ Carmel looked surprised.
‘Two are enough.’ Beth couldn’t suppress her grin.
The security personnel straightened and nodded at Zeb, who pulled open a door and ushered his companions inside.
Six men and women were seated around a large, oval table. They were in IDF uniform. The remains of a hearty breakfast were beside each one of them. All of them were playing cards.
‘Join us?’ one woman flashed a smile at Zeb.
Carmel stood, stunned. She looked uncomprehendingly at each soldier, at the ambassador, the sisters and then at Zeb.
‘What’s this?’ she whispered.
‘The negotiators are at an IDF base.’
She grabbed a vacant chair, occupied it and composed herself rapidly.
‘This was part of the trap.’
‘Yes.’
‘The ambassador?’
‘I had to be here,’ Alice Monash said, gripping Carmel’s forearm reassuringly. ‘To make it look real. This was Zeb’s idea—’
‘Actually, ma’am,’ Meghan drawled, ‘it was ours. Zeb likes to take credit.’
‘Their idea. Beth and Meghan Petersen’s, in case you have any doubts,’ the ambassador said, bobbing her head in acknowledgment. ‘This room was supposed to be empty as per Zeb’s plan. The sisters thought it would be better if it was occupied. By IDF soldiers.’
‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ Carmel’s face tinged pink in anger.
‘You can guess why,’ Zeb answered. ‘The trap has to be good for it to be believable. There’s more. You have seen guests in this hotel. They are IDF soldiers. Many of the hotel staff have been replaced by military personnel. In fact, the hotel is almost empty. These guests are coming and going, wandering around, to give the impression the Galaxy is busy.’
Carmel’s knuckles whitened. Her lips thinned.
‘I have fourteen kidon,’ she hissed, ‘who think the negotiators are here. They are willing to risk their lives to catch the killers. You concealed all this from us!’
‘Your operatives wouldn’t risk their lives if this room was empty? If they knew everything?’
That floored her. She grabbed a bottle of water and drank it. Wiped her lips and looked away for several moments. The soldiers carried on with their game, ignoring the byplay.
‘You are right,’ Carmel accepted. ‘I overreacted. I am sorry—’
‘Hey,’ Meghan caught her shoulder. ‘Don’t say that to him. He’s a mean, selfish guy.’
That brought smiles all around.
‘We are good?’ Zeb asked her.
‘We are.’ Carmel stood up, her game face coming on. ‘Ma’am,’ she addressed the ambassador, ‘I guess you’ll join these hard-working people at their game.’
‘You’re just jealous,’ the female soldier ribbed her. ‘Zeb, can you work it out with our general? We would like a permanent posting here.’
‘I guess I shouldn’t be telling any of the kidon about this,’ Carmel murmured when she left, along with Zeb and the Petersens.
‘That’s right.’
‘Dalia, too? We don’t have secrets between us.’
‘Tell her.’
* * *
Moscow
* * *
Grigor Andropov was angry. No, he was incensed. He controlled it well, however. He had arrived at Peter Raskov’s apartment an hour back. Only to find it flooded with police.
A neighbor who had the habit of sharing a morning coffee with the FSB agent had called them when the Russian didn’t answer his door.
Andropov had flashed his credentials to the officers at the door and gawped at the scene when he entered the apartment.
Peter Raskov was clearly dead. His manner of demise was horrific, however. He had been slashed. Neat cuts across his body, as if the killer wanted to inflict the maximum pain.
‘Who did it? Any clues?’ Andropov asked a policeman.
‘Nyet. The ublyudok is good,’ the officer swore. ‘The apartment is clean. No one saw anything or heard anything.’
Andropov knew the FSB agent could have been killed by anyone. It could be a simple burglary gone wrong. Or a foreign agency targeting the Russian.
It could also be someone who knew I was enquiring about Raskov.
‘Here,’ he gave his card to the officer. ‘Keep me in the loop.’
‘Everything goes to my commander.’
‘I’ll take it from him as well. But I want to hear from you first.’
The officer looked at the title on Andropov’s card and nodded slowly. It never hurt to have friends in high places.
‘Da,’ he agreed.
* * *
Jerusalem Galaxy
* * *
‘What?’ Zeb turned away quickly and moved to a corner of the lobby.
‘Raskov is dead.’ Andropov sounded weary on the call. ‘Cut by a knife. Killer and weapon not found.’
Zeb didn’t reply immediately. His mind raced as he tried to work out what this killing meant. Where it fit in the jigsaw.
‘You there?’
‘Yeah,’ he replied and straightened his shoulders when he saw who was walking through the Galaxy’s entrance. ‘Let me know what you find. I gotta go.’
Eliel had arrived.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Jerusalem
Seven days after Assassinations
Four days to Announcement
* * *
Magal had reached Jerusalem early in the morning. He was surprisingly refreshed. He had slept on the flight from Moscow to Amman and then through the lengthy taxi rides.
It’s probably the high from the killing as well. But I can’t tell Shiri that. He’ll blow a fuse.
He had freshened in a canteen’s bathroom and then headed to Romema, where he sat across from a swarthy man who had introduced himself only as Karim.
Magal compared the man to the picture on his cell, sent by the handler. He asked him a few key questions and checked the answers against the handler’s message. Karim passed.
There was a final security question. One that he hadn’t agreed on with the handler.
‘Give me your cell phone,’ he told the man.
Karim hesitated.
Magal leaned forward till his jacket opened wider. His gun was visible to the man opposite him.
‘This isn’t negotiable.’
‘It isn’t what I agreed with our common friend.’
‘You’ll agree with me now.’
Karim reluctantly handed over the device. Magal swiped through it rapidly and checked the call log. All of them to a number in the Middle East. No other calls. It’s a burner phone. He called the number. It rang several times.
‘Why are you calling me?’ the handler picked up angrily. ‘You’re supposed to meet the man in Jerusalem.’
‘This is the man in Jerusalem,’ Magal replied. ‘I wanted to check that Karim is who he says.’
‘Satisfied?’
‘Yes.’
‘How many men do you have?’ he asked the swarthy man as he ended the call and drew out a burner from his go-bag. He simultaneously palmed a spare battery.
He called his cell from Karim’s and hung up when his phone rang. ‘Now you have my number. And I have yours.’
He reached across to hand over Karim’s device. Fumbled whil
e doing so, and it fell to the floor and slid under the table. Magal swooped before the other man could react. He kneeled on the floor and switched batteries swiftly. He got up and handed the cell back to its owner.
Karim didn’t look suspicious. Accidents happened. He took his phone, checked that it worked and pocketed it.
‘Fourteen,’ he said, answering Magal’s question. He half-turned toward the back of the eatery. Three men sat at a table, drinking coffee, talking occasionally, the way long-time friends do.
‘Your men?’
‘Yes,’ Karim replied. ‘Eleven more.’
‘They can shoot?’
‘Very well.’
‘Criminal records?’
‘None of us are known to police. We wouldn’t be in Israel this long if we were.’
‘You can get rocket launchers?’
‘Yes.’ Karim didn’t blink. ‘Won’t be the best in the market.’
‘As long as they can be pointed at a building and shot.’
‘They will do that.’
Magal was once again impressed by the handler’s network and resources. The man had never let the kidon down, either with his intel or his logistics support.
Still, taking on contractors at such short notice wasn’t something he was comfortable with.
But we don’t have a choice. The negotiators will leave for the camp in two days.
‘Many of your men will die.’
Karim smiled unpleasantly. ‘That is part of the job. What is your plan?’
Magal told him.
‘When is go?’
‘Today. Evening.’
That surprised the man. He chewed his lip and drummed his fingers on the table.
‘Is there a problem?’
‘No …’ Karim finished his drink and stood up. ‘The rocket launchers. I will need to leave right now if you want them by evening.’
‘Attack when I give you the word.’
‘Yes.’
* * *
Magal circled the Jerusalem Galaxy in a taxi, wearing his cap low over his head. He checked his cell and saw the green dot for Karim. The battery he had inserted in the man’s phone was both a tracker and an explosive device. Magal would set it off at the right time. Karim couldn’t live. Not after seeing his face.
Magal, too, had studied the hotel’s plans. He recollected all that Shiri had told him.
With that amount of security, Shiri and I will have to use our insider status.
He grinned suddenly. He loved the challenge. He knew his partner would be feeling the same, too. It was possible that both would die that evening.
But if they pulled it off … heck, there would be a long list of callers once they became international assassins.
He got the cab to drive to the rear of the hotel, and as they were driving down the street a kite, high up, caught his eye. He tried to see who was flying it, but there were too many structures in the way.
His eyes lingered on the Galaxy’s roof and that of another hotel across the street from it. About two hundred feet across. The negotiators’ hotel is taller. It could work!
‘Let’s go to that hotel,’ he told the driver.
Forty minutes later, he emerged, satisfied. He had rented a room on the second hotel’s highest floor, facing the Galaxy. He would have to make one more trip to leave some gear in it, but his escape plan was ready.
His attack was already mapped out. It drew heavily on surprise and diversionary tactics. Now that their getaway was sorted out, all that was required was Carmel’s cooperation.
She needed to be amenable to a particular request.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Jerusalem Galaxy
Seven days after Assassinations
Four days to Announcement
* * *
Zeb stuck his hand out and greeted Eliel. ‘You know me as Epstein.’
‘That man we met looked very different,’ the kidon said, smiling. ‘Navon told me about you. Carmel, too.’ He lowered his large backpack to the floor and flexed his shoulders.
‘You’re American?’
‘Yeah,’ Zeb drawled deliberately.
‘You speak our language better than most natives.’
Zeb shrugged. Eliel was fishing, but he wasn’t taking the bait. No Mossad operative would ever know who he and the sisters worked for. We might tell Carmel and Dalia, but no one else.
‘How’s your mother?’
Eliel’s face darkened. ‘She doesn’t have much time … I might have to go suddenly if—’
‘Sure.’ He turned when a voice greeted them. Carmel, approaching rapidly.
She punched Eliel lightly on the shoulder and, after a quick nod to Zeb, led the kidon away.
* * *
‘I have a favor to ask,’ Magal told his team leader after she had finished briefing him.
‘Go ahead.’
‘Can you reassign Navon and me? To the roof? I think you have someone else there, don’t you? After all that’s happened at home,’ he put on a melancholy expression, ‘some fresh air will do me good. Up there,’ he pointed upwards, ‘will help.’
Carmel patted his forearm sympathetically, ‘Of course. That won’t be a problem.’ She turned her head away and spoke rapidly in her mouthpiece. ‘Navon’s coming,’ she said when she finished. ‘You’re clear to the roof.’
Shiri came presently and hugged his partner briefly.
‘You can show him around the hotel?’
Navon nodded.
‘Not the fifth floor. You know the rules.’
‘Yes, boss,’ Navon grinned cheekily.
‘What’s with the fifth floor?’ Magal asked curiously.
‘We can’t go deep in the hallway. IDF is protecting it,’ Shiri said as he led him away.
* * *
‘What’s the plan?’ Shiri asked an hour later. They were on the roof of the Galaxy, just the two of them, their backpacks on the concrete surface.
Magal enjoyed the Jerusalem view for a moment before replying. He could see light reflecting off the Dome of the Rock in the distance.
‘Where are the drones?’
‘Well below us,’ Shiri assured him. ‘There are a few choppers,’ he pointed to the sky, ‘but their focus is on street traffic.’
Magal looked around them. The roof was flat, with a five-foot-high parapet running all around. The water tank they had discussed was to one side. Pumps, fans and several pieces of mechanical equipment were bolted by its side. A large, painted circle was in the center. A helipad. The approach to the elevator room was through a raised structure that had a door. No security to it. A simple twist-and-push handle mounted on it.
He touched Shiri’s shoulder and took him to the side. ‘How far away is that hotel? Its rooftop?’ he pointed to the one he had checked out.
‘One-fifty, two hundred feet?’ Shiri squinted.
Magal leaned over his backpack and unzipped it. He brought out a lengthy coil of nylon rope and a crossbow. Two pulleys followed, as did several belts and harnesses.
‘That’s our escape.’
‘We’ll zipline?’ his partner caught on quickly, his eyes dancing.
‘Yes. I have booked a room. That one, there in the middle.’ He pointed. ‘I have left weapons and disguises in it.’
‘What kind of disguises?’
‘Police. We will leave the room as two uniformed police. No one will question us. Now, tell me about the blind spots.’
Shiri told him.
The hotel had security cameras on all floors, however they were mounted deep into the hallways.
‘So, the elevators are covered but not the areas on either side of their doors?’
‘Yes,’ Shiri confirmed. ‘They start from the first rooms to the left and right, which are twenty-five feet away.’
‘No cameras in the staircases?’
‘No. There are IDF people at the entrance door of each floor.’
‘How many?’
‘Three. And there are two s
tanding outside the elevators on each floor. You saw them. No one at the roof, though. We are the security, here.’
‘What about the fifth floor? How much security there?’
‘You mean at the conference room? Two.’
Magal stopped so abruptly that Shiri bumped into him. ‘Only two?’ he asked incredulously.
‘That’s what Carmel told me. And I didn’t see any more when she and I stepped outside the elevator. But don’t forget the two at the elevator and the three on the stairs.’
Magal scratched his chin as he thought rapidly. ‘I would have thought they would have more IDF or police on that floor. Carter isn’t in charge, is he?’
‘No. Not Carmel, either. Moshe Abhyan is. He’s an IDF commander. He’s on our comms channel.’
‘They must be figuring on taking out the assassins on the ground floor. That’s why there are barely any guards on the fifth.’
‘That’s what I figured. The twelfth floor has a similar setup. Three outside the elevators, a roaming patrol of two on the floor and three inside the stairs.’
‘How many guests in the hotel?’
‘I haven’t found that out. Carmel didn’t know, either. I checked with the other kidon. No one knew. But there’s a constant stream of people in the lobby.’
‘I saw that.’
‘I have been patient,’ Shiri burst out when Magal pinched his nose and kept quiet. ‘I didn’t even ask you about Moscow. You have some plan here? How we’ll tackle all that security and take out the Palestinians and get away safely?’
Magal couldn’t help smiling at his friend’s outburst. ‘We can’t go against all these IDF and police personnel.’
Shiri slapped his palm against his thigh in frustration. ‘I thought you were working on something!’
‘Patience,’ Magal grinned wider. ‘I said we can’t take them on. Which is correct. There are too many of them. However, we won’t need to.’