California Triangle: A Passionate Thriller About the Mossad, FBI and Iranian Revolutionary Guards (International Espionage Book 3)

by Uzi Eilam

  The phone rang, breaking the silence, and Yoni picked up, ready to bark at his secretary for interrupting him.

  “Sorry, Yoni, Mr. Lyall is on the line. He says that he’s the security officer at New Horizons, and that it’s important and urgent. He said you’d understand.”

  “Okay, transfer the call.” Yoni sighed.

  “Mr. Feldman, good morning to you,” Lyall said sharply, despite the southern drawl. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re very busy these days.”

  “It’s all right, Mr. Lyall,” Yoni said. “How can I help you?”

  “Please, call me George,” he said. “I’m calling you in regard to Dr. Yehuda Avni. I understand that you know of his involvement in the case that the FBI is investigating. And of his visit to Israel. I’d like you to take the time to meet with him. If you agree, I’ll tell him to come to the consulate whenever you say.”

  “I have a general idea of Dr. Avni’s work. What exactly is the problem? What would you like me to discuss with him?”

  “Hmm… Well, I’m not sure we should discuss this over the phone.” Lyall hesitated. “But I can say it is in connection with O’Connor’s investigation. You know Mr. O’Connor.”

  “Yes, I do, George. But what’s the problem with Dr. Avni?” Yoni reacted impatiently, waiting for Lyall to get to the point.

  “Well, Dr. Avni has been behaving strangely since he returned. He’s being very secretive, and whenever I try to discuss anything with him, he hints that he knows full well what to do. Was he briefed in Israel?”

  “Why are you asking me?” Yoni said. “Isn’t this an internal matter at your company?”

  “That’s what I thought, but O’Connor thought I should talk to you. It’s just that Dr. Avni is behaving as if there are no security issues, and I thought it may have something to do with his visit to Israel. Can you talk to him? I’m sure you’re the right person to find out if we have a problem.”

  “Sure, George,” Yoni assured him. “I’ll contact him directly. No need for you to say anything to him.”

  As if I didn’t have enough problems, Yoni thought when he put down the receiver. There was nothing in the report regarding Yehuda Avni and the Callnet card. As far as I know, he and his wife were in Israel for personal and business reasons. Did something happen that we aren’t aware of?

  ***

  Yudke sat staring at the computer screen, his hands motionless on the keyboard. He was thinking about the weird conversation he’d had with George the day before. George had mentioned new threats that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and they were distracting him from dealing with a complex, irritating bug. He didn’t have patience for Lyall’s nonsense, and he told him just as much. “I’m a big boy and I can take care of myself.”

  The phone rang. It was an unidentified number calling. Yudke picked up to find Yoni’s secretary on the line. “Dr. Avni? Yoni… I mean Mr. Feldman would like a word with you,” she said.

  Yudke waited as she put the call through.

  “Yudke! Hi, Yoni speaking, from the consulate. We haven’t met yet…”

  “Hi, Yoni,” Yudke said quickly, “I’ve heard your name mentioned by someone from the Israeli community here. By Gideon Ben-Ari, I believe.”

  “Yes, I know Gideon,” Yoni said, “and I thought it was high time you and I meet.”

  “Is it urgent? Did something happen?” Yudke asked.

  “No. Nothing special,” Yoni tried to assure him, “but I’d prefer to speak in person and not on the phone. Can you come to the consulate? Tomorrow, or the next day? I’ll fit you in whenever it suits you.”

  “Let’s make it two days from now. Is ten good?”

  “Sure,” Yoni agreed.

  ***

  After offering Yudke a cup of Turkish coffee and exchanging a few necessary niceties, Yoni got to the point.

  “Yudke, I was wondering. Does your project have an Achilles’ heel of any kind?”

  “Wow! That’s quite a question,” Yudke responded slowly. “No one’s ever asked me that question so directly…”

  “And? Do you?”

  “One part of the card’s software could damage its immunity if exposed, and our enemies could cause the entire system to crash if they discovered it,” Yudke said. “We’ve encrypted and camouflaged it as well as possible, but it is still vulnerable.”

  “And this concerns you?”

  “Yes, but only to a certain extent,” Yudke continued slowly. “You know about the part that Gideon’s developing…”

  “What about it?” Yoni asked.

  “Only someone who knows both parts, which together form the heart of the system, can deal with it and thwart its ability to provide good defense. So even if the whole smart card was exposed, it wouldn’t be enough to damage the defense system’s ability,” Yudke concluded with confidence.

  Yes, thought Yoni, but that’s precisely our problem. “I hope that you are aware of the security sensitivity of your projects, mainly now that we know how fixed the Iranians are on getting their hands on this information.”

  “Yes, Yoni, I’m aware of the dangers.”

  “And what does your wife know of your projects?” Yoni said, surprising him.

  “Nurit has no interest in technical issues. She’s busy with her doctoral dissertation, and I’m sure she doesn’t know anything about our matters.”

  “Remember another thing, Yudke,” Yoni continued. “We are well connected to the Americans on security issues, on various levels, and the first level is yours, at your company. Your security officer, John Lyall, is a good man who receives his instructions from above.”

  “I know Lyall very well,” Yudke said. “He’s a very proactive type.”

  “You can trust him completely. You must share any problem that you think may have security implications with him,” Yoni said sharply. “Don’t forget, we are guests of our great friend, and we must allow them to manage the security of this project.” Yoni stood up to accompany Yudke to the door.

  “Thanks, Yoni, it was great meeting you.”

  “We’ll be in touch,” Yoni promised and watched Yudke’s back disappear down the hallway.

  34.

  The flight back to California seemed much longer to Gideon than the flight to Israel. He looked for Nurit and Yudke in the business lounge and was disappointed when he didn’t find them. A sense of doubt was added to his disappointment. The defense people in Israel had added new files to the basic program that he’d brought with him from Stanford. On the face of it, their computer experts had removed material from the sensitive sections he’d brought, but he didn’t know how good their cleanup had been. They reassured him that if anyone tried to access material from his research, they wouldn’t find anything of use, but some of the components they installed in the system were classified, and even Gideon didn’t know what they contained.

  Suzy was waiting for him at home, and she gave him a long hug. He was surprised by the warmth he felt, like in the old days, and he found himself hugging her back.

  “How was it?” she asked.

  “Crazy busy and very interesting,” Gideon told her. “I went from briefing to briefing, gave a lecture that the big shots from the Ministry of Defense’s professional forum liked, and their response was very positive. I had almost no time to myself.”

  “And the kids?”

  “They’re great.”

  “You wouldn’t know from our Skype calls. I’m concerned about Noam. How is she managing on her own?”

  “She’s very independent, as usual. She’s almost finished her army duty. She turned down her officers’ requests to sign on with the permanent forces.”

  “Did she say what her plans are?” Suzy’s concern was mixed with joy.

  “She wants to come here and apply for a BA in political science.”

  “Wow!
That’s great news! We can help her get organized, and English won’t be a problem for her.”

  Again, Gideon felt remorse. He knew how Suzy always hesitated to initiate things. If I’d only thought a little, I’d have realized that Suzy wouldn’t ask to come to Israel with me, he thought, tormenting himself. I would have made her happy if I’d asked her to come along to Israel.

  ***

  When he got to work that day, Gideon knocked on Deutsch’s door, but Deutsch was preoccupied by other matters. To Gideon’s surprise, he said, “Will you have time to swing by in the afternoon? At the end of the day, perhaps? I’d like to give you my full attention.”

  Before Gideon had time to sit down at his desk, Bill and Bob stormed into his office.

  “Welcome home!” Bill said.

  “How was your trip? You disappeared for eight days,” Bob said. “Was it worth it?”

  “Yes, it was very interesting.”

  Bob interrupted him, unable to restrain his curiosity. “Did you meet with the Israeli missile defense people?”

  “Yes, and I was very impressed by their achievements.”

  “What did you learn from them? What are you allowed to tell us?” Bob continued.

  “Okay, okay. I know you won’t drop the subject until I satisfy your boundless curiosity.” Gideon sighed. “I was impressed by their achievements in developing a warhead for the intercepting missile with sensors at the tip that guide it very close to the enemy’s missile. The warhead is extraordinarily advanced and powerful.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “No, that’s not all, you nosy busybodies,” Gideon said cheerfully. “I was also impressed by the sensors that detect, identify, and track the enemy’s missile when it is still far away on the horizon.”

  “You’re hiding something. What really happened at the meeting?”

  Bob, Gideon noticed, didn’t spare his criticism. He was used to it but felt exposed. He tried to think of a way to avoid the inquisition without raising suspicion that the trip had been for security, not scientific reasons. “Not much. I asked them about the available bandwidth for the new system’s communication requirements and about other requirements that the system will require.”

  “And then what?” Bob looked at him, his interest sparked. “What did they tell you?”

  “Maybe we should give Gideon a break?” Bill intervened and looked at Bob reproachfully.

  “They didn’t like the questions,” Gideon answered. Bob opened his mouth to ask another question, but Gideon continued, raising his voice slightly. “And now I need to get some work done.”

  ***

  The institute was quieter in the evening as Gideon returned to Deutsch’s office.

  “It’s open,” Deutsch thundered loudly as if the day had just begun.

  “Hi, Gerald,” Gideon began as soon as he sat down. “I have so much to tell you. Do you have time now?”

  “Talk. Tell me about your trip,” Deutsch said, getting right to the point.

  Gideon filled Deutsch in. “They asked a lot of questions and criticized our view of things. On the other hand, they weren’t very receptive to our criticism, when it came to their negligence in assessing multifocal threats,” Gideon said, sounding concerned. “I answered self-assuredly, but then doubts began to creep in. Could we be wrong? Maybe we’re entering a dead end.”

  “That shouldn’t bother you, Gideon,” Deutsch said quickly. “The basis of your research is based on realistic threat assessments. It sounds to me like the green-eyed monster raised its head. Don’t let it stop you. Now—more importantly—did they give you the means with which to deal with the threat we’re facing?”

  I like Deutsch’s attitude, he thought to himself. He says “us” and already I feel less alone. He wondered how much he was allowed to share with Deutsch. “This was an urgent and interesting meeting,” he told him.

  After Gideon explained how he’d been drilled, Deutsch spoke a tone he didn’t recognize, leaving Gideon to wonder if Deutsch had been hurt by the complaints regarding the institute’s security. “And what about the material that you’re meant to give Ryan’s investors? What instructions did they give you?”

  “That’s precisely what I wanted to talk about, Gerald, and to ask for your help with.”

  “I’m listening…”

  “They gave me an amended file based on the material I prepared for them. They promised that the document no longer revealed any secrets, but that it still looked professional and authentic.”

  “And that’s what you need my help with?” Deutsch asked, far from his usual relaxed self.

  “Well, yes. You’re involved in this whole business. I’ll be giving them a paper describing my research activities at the institute. It wouldn’t occur to me to submit it to the investors without your blessing.”

  Gideon took a flash drive from his bag and gave it to Deutsch. For what felt like forever, he watched Deutsch’s face as he read the text.

  “It looks fine, Gideon,” Deutsch reassured him when he finished. “They did a good job. There are a few minor changes I think we should make…to convince the people receiving this of the material’s authenticity. Can I make the changes now?”

  “Sure, Gerald. That’s exactly what I wanted.” Gideon sighed in relief.

  “When do you plan to give the material to Ryan?” Deutsch asked as he finished typing in the corrections.

  “Tomorrow, at a restaurant. He asked to meet for lunch,” Gideon said. “He called me twice today, and he wouldn’t get off my back until we decided where and when.”

  “How did he sound?” Deutsch asked. “What could you read between the lines?”

  “He sounded troubled, stressed out,” Gerald said slowly, trying to recall, “as if he was in a hurry to get something, maybe proof for his operators that he’s made some progress?”

  “Remind me again, his real name is Rustam Davidian? You have his address and phone number, right?”

  “Yes, his name’s Persian.” How does he know that Yoni told me Ryan’s personal details?

  Still, he reeled off the details that Deutsch wanted.

  “And another important point,” Deutsch added. “Don’t be tempted to give them even a hint of details regarding further research. We’ll keep that for the next stage.”

  “I won’t,” Gideon promised, still amazed by Deutsch’s involvement in every detail. “Thanks. You’ve been a great help.”

  He could hear his phone ringing as he approached the door to his office. It was Ryan again. Gideon listened, wrote a note in his diary, and immediately called Yoni. “I’m invited to lunch tomorrow, at a very good Middle Eastern restaurant, on the corner of California Boulevard and El Camino Real.”

  “At what time?”

  “Around twelve thirty,” Gideon said.

  “That’s a very popular restaurant, and I’m sure you won’t be alone with your hosts.”

  Have they decided to watch over me? Gideon wondered, feeling safer than ever.

  ***

  As he walked into the restaurant the next day, Gideon saw Ryan waving his hand from the corner table. Rigid in their black suits, Frank Miles and Ed Richman were having what seemed to Gideon to be a calm, relaxed conversation. He approached their table, gave Ryan a friendly pat on the shoulder, and shook Frank’s and Ed’s hands as they stood up to greet him.

  A friendly waiter with a black mustache and an unmistakably Middle Eastern accent quickly placed small plates of hummus, tahini, slices of fried eggplant, and stuffed vine leaves on the table.

  “We don’t serve alcoholic beverages,” he announced. No one protested.

  They ordered lentil soup, which was served thick and spicy. After the soup, the waiter served lamb skewers and steaming white rice. Gideon thought how far his hosts, with their business suits and their almost perfect American accents
, had distanced themselves from their Middle Eastern roots. You can take a man out of the Middle East, but you can’t take the Middle East out of a man.

  “They’re so efficient,” Gideon said.

  “Yes, very,” Ryan agreed. “I like coming here. They serve real Middle Eastern food.”

  “How’s your work at the institute coming along?” Miles asked as he slurped his soup noisily from the spoon.

  “Very well,” Gideon answered without hesitation. “I believe I’ll be done with the current stage by the time my contract ends.” He remembered the detailed briefing that he’d received in Israel and tried to sound natural and at ease.

  “Dr. Miles wanted to fill you in on developments regarding your further research,” Ryan said as he looked from Gideon to Miles and back. “He has good news.”

  The waiter arrived at the table carrying a tray with four glasses of white liquid with ice cubes. “The manager would like to deviate from custom and offer our distinguished guests the well-known Zachlawi Arak. We reserve it for special occasions,” he explained apologetically.

  “Why don’t we drink to Dr. Ben-Ari and to the success of his study?” Miles proposed.

  Gideon joined them in lifting a glass and, after a sip, acknowledged that the drink deserved its excellent reputation.

  “Frank, perhaps we should bring Dr. Ben-Ari up to speed?” Ryan said.

  “After hearing about your research from us and from Ryan,” Miles began, “the foundation’s management has decided to give you an advance to cover the efforts you’ve invested in your research so far. Ryan explained that he spoke to you about a summary?” He looked expectantly at Gideon, trying to gauge his response. Then he continued. “Naturally we’re interested in your further research, and we’ll discuss that later.”