Spycatcher

by Matthew Dunn

  Lana frowned and brushed a finger against her face.

  Will slowly stood and walked over to the curtained window. He knew that he could not open the blinds for fear of being seen by hotel-gazing Iranians, but he stood there anyway and closed his eyes.

  He smelled Lana’s perfume before he felt her fingers interlock with his hand. He felt her body press against his back and her lips gently kiss his neck. He felt her long hair brush against his face. He squeezed her hand a little and turned to face her. She was truly beautiful, and as he beheld her proud and complex face, he wondered why she had chosen to be alone for so long. He decided that it was because her hatred for Megiddo had not allowed her to love another. He decided that the wish she had expressed in Paris might now be coming true.

  Let me do this and feel alive again.

  He said, “I will stay in your room with you tonight, but we cannot be together in that way.” He saw the look of disappointment and confusion on her face. He saw a tear creep from one of her eyes. He saw her looking at him as if she knew that he had made a mistake. He gently ran a finger over her tears and whispered, “I am not the man for you, Lana.”

  She stepped closer to him. “Maybe I am the woman who can change that.”

  Will shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Lana placed a hand against his cheek. “I know you care for me. I know you worry about my safety. But”—she frowned—“I need to know . . . I need to know whether you’ve ever thought what it would be like . . . for us to be together?”

  Will placed his arms around her waist. He wondered what he should say. He told her the truth. “I have imagined what it would be like. I have wondered about the future—when this is all over.” He pulled her closer and kissed her on her cheek. “I have thought about us.” He smiled even though inside he felt turmoil and confusion. He knew that he had spent years developing a shield against love and normality, that his shield was there to help him do the things he had to do. He knew that right now and for the moment that shield was lowered because of the woman he now held. He kissed her cheek again and said quietly, “Maybe when this is over, you can be the woman who changes things for me.” He shook his head and felt bitter and hollow. “But nothing must change right now.”

  Will watched Lana sleeping on her bed while he sat in an armchair on the far side of her hotel room. Her duvet only partially covered her body, and a naked leg lay exposed over sheets. Will walked up to her and quietly arranged the duvet so that it was fully covering her. He looked at her and wondered whether she was dreaming. He looked at her and wondered what it would have been like to share her bed with her, to feel her naked warmth against him, to smell her hair and perfume, to wrap her in his arms.

  He smiled and looked away from Lana toward the windows and saw that early-morning sunshine was just visible behind the curtains. He knew that beyond the room were men who wanted to capture and kill him. And he knew that they did not scare him. He looked back down at Lana, and his smile faded. He now knew that she could be the woman to change everything for him. And that knowledge terrified him.

  Twenty

  “It’s delivered. She’s on her way back to the hotel.”

  Will ended the call from Roger and drank his coffee. He was back at the Sheraton, alone, surrounded by businessmen and -women, tourist couples and families. Normal people. He rubbed a hand over his face, and as he did so his cell phone bleeped with a message from Patrick.

  Stay where you are. I’m coming to you with something urgent.

  Patrick’s face looked tired, but he still moved with a vigor and purpose that defied his age. He was pacing back and forth in Will’s hotel room. “Since you left yesterday morning, I’ve traveled to Langley and back to get hold of the paper you’re now holding.”

  Will read the document. It was a telegram from the National Security Agency to the Bundesnachrichtendienst, Germany’s foreign intelligence service, known as the BND.

  SUBJECT

  Berlin-based terrorist cell plans to attack Reichstag Building of German Bundestag while the United States secretary of state makes his address to the parliament.

  OVERVIEW

  Details have been obtained of five active terrorists. Details have been obtained of their location in Berlin. Details have been obtained of their intention to destroy the Reichstag Building while parliament is in session and receiving an address from the United States secretary of state. Details have been obtained of their intention to carry out this attack using devices that combine thermite cutting agents and explosives.

  MAIN TEXT

  1. The following five individuals are known to have terrorist-related backgrounds:

  a. Sonmaz Faturachi, male, age twenty-seven, Azerbaijani.

  b. Raheem Abdul Abdullah, male, age twenty-four, Canadian of Iraqi origin.

  c. Abel Zaidi, male, age twenty-six, Yemeni.

  d. Imad Nabulsi, male, age twenty-seven, Lebanese.

  e. Soraya Nashat, female, age twenty-two, British of Lebanese origin.

  2. The five individuals are located in house 7, Onlauer Street, Treptow, Berlin. The five individuals have been in this location for nine days.

  3. Twenty-five portable canisters containing combined thermite cutting agent and explosive materials are believed to be located at house 7, Onlauer Street, Treptow, Berlin.

  4. The individuals intend to deploy and detonate the portable canisters around the structure of the Reichstag Building of the German Bundestag.

  COMMENT

  1. Separate reporting gives full details of the above five named individuals and their affiliations to Shia Islamic terrorist organizations. The five individuals are known to have received funding and training from Iran [NSA10/11832/L refers].

  2. The type of canisters referenced suggest devices intended to destroy building structures and materials by explosion-propelled burning methods [NSA09/19985/L refers].

  SOURCE

  1. The source of this report is assessed as highly reliable. Multiple means are available to check the accuracy of the source and its reporting.

  Will glanced up from the report. “Looking at the source, I presume this is Hubble reporting?”

  Patrick nodded. “A valued friend within the BND called me to tell me they had received the telegram from NSA. He wanted to know what I thought, and I told him that I’d check it out. It’s from Hubble.”

  Will set the report on a desk. “The American secretary of state and the entire German parliament? That’s a huge target.”

  “It would be the worst attack on German soil since British and American aircraft bombed the place in 1945.”

  “Do you think this could be the one we’ve been looking for? Megiddo’s operation to strike his blow against the West?”

  Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know.” He stopped pacing and pointed at the document. “We have a puzzle. This does not look like the corrupted Hubble reporting, because it is far too specific. But if it is uncorrupted Hubble reporting, then why would Megiddo be careless enough to expose his operation to NSA when he knows that they’ve already penetrated his communication systems?”

  “Maybe the mastermind behind this German operation isn’t Megiddo. Despite receiving previous funding from them, the terrorists may not be acting on Iranian instructions.”

  Patrick shook his head. “An attack of this magnitude wouldn’t be allowed to proceed without Megiddo’s authorization.” He began pacing again. “Even if the planners were outside his control—and I can’t believe that to be the case—he would still find out about the attack and quash it for fear of compromising anything he’s planning.”

  “You’re saying this has to be Megiddo’s operation but you can’t believe he would now have been caught out by NSA?”

  “I’m saying I do not know.” Patrick brought himself to a halt. “The BND has handed the report to their Bundesamt für Verfassung
sschutz, who in turn are no doubt working with Grenzschutzgruppe 9 to stop the attack.”

  “Then Germany’s Security Service will use its police antiterrorist unit GSG 9 to capture the terrorists and learn the truth behind the attack.”

  Patrick exhaled loudly. “Therein lies the problem. An intended attack of this scale will be met with extreme countermeasures. My friend in the BND has told me that Germany cannot allow the terrorists to live, and so we will never know who was behind the plot. My friend also told me that GSG 9 is striking the house tonight.”

  Will slammed a fist on the desk. “But we have to know whether this is Megiddo’s plot. If this is Megiddo’s operation, then Lana’s information becomes irrelevant as soon as the attack is thwarted. Megiddo will therefore disappear from our grasp. That means the only chance we have of tracking him down for retribution is via an interrogation of the terrorists.”

  Patrick sighed. “I did warn you that ours would not be the only operation against the attack. If other Western intelligence services have prevented Megiddo from conducting his assault, we should just accept that and walk away.”

  “Just as you walked away from my father’s killer once you had decided that your conscience was clear?”

  The fury on Patrick’s face was vivid. He walked up to Will and stood very close. “I spent seven years trying to get that man, and with no care for my own safety or career. Along the way I personally killed twelve men, destroyed the lives of numerous others, had a death sentence imposed upon me by the Iranians, and lost two marriages. I did not give up. Megiddo simply disappeared.”

  Will looked back into Patrick’s silver eyes. He smiled. “I understand. And you will therefore understand why it is simply unacceptable for us to now consent to a situation where Megiddo disappears again from our grasp.” Will’s smile vanished, and he looked away from Patrick. “We can’t allow the Germans to send their GSG 9 execution squad into that house. Our trail to Megiddo would vanish if that happens.”

  Patrick held his gaze for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Then it’s just as well that I’m one step ahead of you.” He backed away from Will and checked his watch. “My trip to the CIA in Langley was to secure a copy of the NSA report, but I also made a quick stop in Washington.” Patrick looked back at Will. “Because the U.S. secretary of state is among the intended victims, that should allow the United States to have some degree of involvement in actions to prevent the attack. I have a letter written by my president that authorizes me, and any colleagues with me, to consult with the BfV and relevant German police services. You and I are booked on a two-fifty P.M. Lufthansa flight to Germany today to see if we can persuade our German friends to keep at least one of the terrorists alive.”

  The BfV woman studied the piece of paper and then a man who was leaning in the corner of the room within the headquarters of the Bundesamt für Verfassungsschutz. She turned to face Will and Patrick. “We recognize your letter of introduction, but you do realize that you have no authority within this matter?”

  “We do.” Patrick clasped his hands in subtle supplication. “All we’re asking for is for you to hear what we have to say.”

  The BfV woman smiled a little. “We’re grateful your NSA gave us advance warning of the attack on our parliament and your secretary of state. But the terrorist attack will now not take place, and in any case your Secret Service has canceled your politician’s visit. All American interests in this operation are now dead.”

  “They are, but even with the destruction of this terrorist cell, German interests should most certainly remain alive.”

  “Why?”

  “We have new intelligence that this cell is but one of many who wish to attack your country.”

  Will resisted the urge to smile with Patrick’s lie.

  “What do you mean?” The BfV woman again glanced at the other German man and then looked back at Patrick.

  “I mean that if you kill all the terrorists tonight, you will have no chance of linking them to other cells in Germany. I’m counseling you to at least spare the life of one terrorist so that he or she may be interrogated by you.”

  “Our federal law forbids us to interrogate in a meaningful way. If a terrorist is spared, that person will immediately be afforded full legal protection. For that reason alone, we have decided that all the terrorists must be killed tonight.” The woman sighed while looking away and nervously rubbing her fingers against her palm. “If your new intelligence is correct, I would dearly like to get my hands on one of the terrorists to find out about the other cells. But I simply cannot authorize that.”

  “Then let us do the interrogation.” Patrick’s voice was hushed.

  The woman laughed shortly. “No.”

  Patrick was silent, and Will knew that he would be feeling the same degree of disappointment Will himself now felt. He wondered what Patrick would say next, but just then the man in the corner of the room spoke rapidly in German to the BfV woman. She responded with equally rapid but harsher-sounding words. The engagement between the two people lasted for almost two minutes before the woman shrugged and chuckled.

  She addressed Patrick. “My friend here is the GSG 9 officer in charge of the assault on the Onlauer Street house tonight. He has an idea he wishes to share with you. I have permitted him to speak freely.”

  The GSG 9 man leaned upright from the wall and folded his arms across his chest. He regarded both Patrick and Will. “We are striking the house at two A.M., and nothing you say will stop that from happening. I have a team of eight men who will be conducting the assault, and we have reconstructed the house to practice the assault fourteen times since we received our instructions. We therefore know every square inch of the Onlauer Street house, and the terrorist cell will not be able to repel our assault.” The man glanced at the BfV woman and then back at Patrick and Will. His look was serious.

  “Nevertheless, tonight I am risking the lives of eight extremely experienced and skilled operatives. I can accept that risk if the likely outcome is total success. I cannot accept that risk if the death of this cell merely fuels greater outrage from its friends.” He nodded at Patrick. “Maybe those friends intend to strike our country.” He smiled briefly. “Or maybe they intend to strike interests closer to your hearts. But either way I want my assault to have strategic value rather than just being a minor reactive defense.” He stared straight at Will and seemed to be analyzing him. He said, “The assault plan can be modified slightly. We will go into the house and kill four of the terrorists. We will then exit the building for a maximum of one minute. We will then reenter the building and execute the final terrorist if he or she is still alive. After our initial assault, the building will feel like hell, because it will be saturated with smoke and fire from our guns and grenades. But if one of you two gentlemen is prepared to do so, then I will allow you that one-minute interval to enter the house and interrogate the living terrorist.”

  Twenty-One

  Will pulled on a black one-piece Nomex 3 flame-retardant suit and donned Adidas tactical boots and Oakley assault gloves. He placed his SF-10 respirator in his lap next to a flashlight and checked his Glock 17 handgun one last time. He looked around the rear of the truck in which he was seated. There were nine other men with him, and eight of them were dressed like Will but also wore knee and elbow pads, bulletproof vests, assault vests containing stun grenades and tear-gas canisters, radio harnesses, and armored helmets. All of them had Glocks strapped to their thighs, but their other weapons varied. Five of them had Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine guns slung across their chests; one carried a G3 sniper rifle with nightscope attached; the remaining two carried Remington shotguns, which Will knew would be loaded with Hatton rounds to remove door hinges. The latter two men also had EDX frame charges attached to their assault vests and door-breaching hammers resting over their legs. Will watched the eight men fit their SF-10 respirators to their faces and check the fittings to ens
ure that they were positioned correctly.

  The vehicle slowed and then stopped. The man who wasn’t wearing any assault gear but instead was dressed in jeans, jacket, civilian hiking boots, and a radio with earpiece was the GSG 9 officer. He looked at his watch and said nothing, but after nearly thirty seconds he nodded once and pointed at the man with the sniper rifle. That man quietly opened the rear door of the truck and disappeared into the black night. They waited for what seemed like two minutes before the officer placed a hand against his radio earpiece and held up two fingers. One of the shotgun-carrying men and two who carried submachine guns rapidly and quietly exited the vehicle and similarly vanished from view. Within a further ten seconds, the officer raised three fingers, and the remainder of the team got out to move to their positions. Only the officer and Will stayed in the rear container area of the truck.

  The officer bent and spoke to Will, keeping his hand against his earpiece. “It will begin in two minutes.” He straightened and looked toward the open truck doors.

  Will glanced at his own watch and attached his respirator to his face. He picked up his Glock handgun and held it tightly in his gloved right hand. His left hand clasped a flashlight. He sat motionless and waited.

  He heard two explosions occur almost simultaneously, followed by the low boom of shotguns. He knew that the front and rear doors of the Onlauer Street house were now breached and that the assault team would be entering the building to kill four members of the terror cell. More explosive sounds indicated that the team had deployed stun grenades, and these sounds were followed by rapid but controlled bursts of submachine-gun fire.

  These noises continued for nearly thirty seconds before the GSG 9 officer held up his hand and nodded at Will. “Top floor. Second bedroom on the right. Go now.”

  Will thrust himself upward, jumped out of the truck, and ran. The house was nearly two hundred meters away, but despite the distance and the darkness Will could see smoke billowing out of the building’s broken windows and its front door. The residential street was obviously awakening from the noises of the attack, and within his peripheral vision Will saw lights in other houses flicker on. He focused on the target house’s front door and ignored the two GSG 9 men who stood on either side of the entrance. He ran straight into the building. Everywhere was dark, and Will switched on his flashlight and swung its beam in an arc before him. The place was thick with smoke. Ahead of him Will saw flames licking up the stairway he needed to climb. He also saw a man sprawled in an awkward position over the stairs. The man’s face had been removed by bullets, and a line of entry holes marched across his chest. A semiautomatic rifle was close to one of the dead man’s hands. Will inhaled deeply, the sound of it exaggerated by his respirator. He raised his handgun and walked quickly up the stairs, ignoring the fire around him.