by J E Higgins
Dayan looked back to see the tired faces of his team. They were showing the effects of coming down from an adrenaline high. “Good, because I think my guys have gone as far as they can for right now.”
From the briefcase, Cohen produced a collection of papers. “These are the papers needed to prove you’re merchant sailors. Please read them so you know who you’re supposed to be and where you’re supposed to be from.”
Dayan took the papers from the katsa. Included were documents for himself and Ripley as well as the three radicals. Cohen had been characteristically thorough in accounting for everyone. The katsa had held back giving the documents to the team for fear that if they were seized along the way, they wouldn’t have anything implicating Captain Murcher.
Dayan passed the documents around and dispatched his team to go get food from the galley. The men didn’t hesitate. They made for the food line and a moment later Dayan and Cohen were alone.
“I guess we’re good until Morocco,” the commando sighed, a bit defeated. “But are we on our own after that? What’s next?”
The katsa bit his lip. “Well, that is what we need to talk about.”
Micha Cohen led Dayan to a far table where a man sat dressed in clothing similar to Cohen’s. Like Cohen, he also had neither the physical features nor the presence that suggested he belonged in them. His raven black hair was neatly cut to military standards. His face was cleanly shaved and his hands were washed. Despite his baggy clothes, Dayan could tell the man possessed an athletic frame on a body that regularly worked out. If the commando had to guess, the man was military, most likely an Air Force officer or a pilot.
Sitting across from the mystery man, Dayan remained hesitant. The man cracked a smile, and his demeanor changed to a friendlier more pleasant image. “Kafka Dayan, I have been waiting for the chance to meet you face to face.”
“Thank you?” the commando replied, unsure of how to take the man’s words.
“My name is Mosher Almog. I’m an aluf mishne or alam in the Israeli Defense Force,” the man said pleasantly.
“Air Force, I’m guessing,” Dayan said, still showing an attitude of uncertainty about the situation.
Almog gave Dayan an approving look. He was impressed by the commando’s quick deduction. “Yes, I am in the Air Force. I flew combat jets for many years. I do work for military intelligence these days.”
“Aman!” Dayan took a step back, tense.
“You seem concerned,” Almog said.
“After what I’ve just done, I’m waiting for a .22 caliber Beretta to appear from under your coat, and a bullet to go through my head.”
Almog chuckled. “I can understand your concern considering you just carried out a serious assassination that is going to gain world attention in addition to the one you recently carried out in Buenos Aires. That one has also been heating up the South American news outlets.”
The commando felt butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure what to think. He sat quietly turning to Cohen to get some clarification. The katsa remained silent. Looking back to the Aman, Dayan waited for the inevitable bad news.
Sensing the commando was not going to speak, Almog continued, “Normally, what you have done would have been a gross embarrassment to our country. However, Cohen has been good enough to manage this operation very well keeping Israel entirely insulated from the damage while still keeping us abreast of everything of consequence. You and your team present us with a very unique opportunity we can’t pass up.”
Dayan remained silent. Almog glanced at Cohen, then back to the commando. “You see, it is only a matter of time before you are discovered as being responsible for these attacks in Uruguay. Iran and Cuba will see to it that this happens. Yet, you were not acting in the capacity as an operative for Israel which shields us from any culpability. In the eyes of the world, you and your group were rogue terrorists acting on your own and are wanted for the massacre of the military officers and the death of the Cuban intelligence officer, Elloy Mendoza, who the world believes was a respected businessman.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel worse?” Dayan interjected. “I’m still waiting for the gun to be drawn.”
Almog waved his index finger. “No, it should make you feel better. You performed a great task in the service of Israel and her allies by staving off a serious power play by Iran. You have the ability to continue working for our country. We have many enemies, as you well know. They are insulated, and we cannot engage them directly without serious repercussions.
“Since you are a rogue operative and a terrorist, you present us with an answer to those problems. I want to build a fictitious terror network around you and your team, a network the world will see as Jewish fundamentalists, Zionist radicals who carry out actions on their own. It will be supported by outside logistics systems and financial backers which would enable Israel to deny any connection to your activities, but you will be working quietly on orders from us. To the world, these missions will be terrorist attacks executed by a rogue former commando from our armed services. You will provide the leeway to execute needed military operations Israel otherwise would be unable to do.”
Pressing his fist to his chin, Dayan asked Cohen. “What role would you play?”
Cohen had a ready answer. “I would be the go-between. My role in all of this was in the shadows. It is unlikely I will ever be seriously connected to what we just did. Still, as a retired, old, burnt-out intelligence officer, I can operate as the handler. I’ll take my orders from Aman, or, more precisely, the alam here, and pass them on to you.”
“So, this means,” Dayan started to point to Almog.
“That, as of now, I’m your new commander,” Almog cut the commando off.
“I guess we don’t have much of a choice.” Dayan rubbed his hand against his forehead processing the ramifications of what he’d been told.
Cohen and Almog exchanged glances. To Dayan, Almog said, “No, you really don’t. Once this ship lands in Morocco you’re either working for us in this new capacity or, in a few months tops, you and your men will be dead or captured.”
“I’ll have to discuss this with my team,” Dayan replied. “What about Darren Ripley? The others, Gold and his friends are Jewish and known Jewish radicals. They fit neatly into this narrative. Ripley is a Welsh mercenary. What about him?”
Almog cracked another smile. “He’s in if he wants to be. He’ll even enjoy being paid, as will you all. Just so he knows, like the rest of you, he’s out there with a constant target on his back.”
Almog was right; there were no other options once the ship hit Morocco.
“I’m in,” was all he said. From this point forward, he would no longer be a former naval commando of Israel’s Flotilla 13. He would now be Kafka Dayan, the international terrorist.
Epilogue
Following the order from Qalmini, Major Akim called off the mission into Uruguay. With the help of Surriman, Keppa, and Avi, he directed the deactivation of the training camp and demobilization of the Arab militia.
Just as they had smuggled them in from Paraguay and Argentina, Keppa and Avi used the same mode of transportation to return the volunteers back to their places of origin. The weapons, being too risky to smuggle back over borders, were sold to some of the local criminal networks, along with any support and training equipment that could fetch a price. This money was allocated for any additional expenses returning the volunteers back to their homes.
Surriman, along with Keppa, and Avi returned with the other Arabs to their villages deep in the mountains and jungles. Major Akim headed for Brasilia, Brazil’s capital, where he made contact with the Iranian embassy and was quietly flown back to Tehran a few nights later.
Ali Anwar al Qalmini and his team destroyed all documents and data storage pertaining to the operation from the Argentinian headquarters. His company, Saleed United Real-estate and Acquisitions took measures to sell all properties in South America at cutthroat prices to ensure quick sales. At tha
t point, his government would be less concerned with profits than divesting themselves of any connection to the fiasco they were now in.
Both, he and his entourage left Argentina on the company’s privately chartered plane. The flight to Iran was deadly silent as Qalmini contemplated his future.
Having lost his employer, Ulbrict Laudman decided his watch shop was now his to enjoy, free of maniacal aristocrats. However, feeling a sense of remorse for the violence suffered by so many working people, he chose to atone with a personal act for his own conscience.
After the gruesome assassination of its president, the PIT-CNT labor coalition had fallen into the leadership of Felix Guzman Uraba, a move engineered by Oskar Straudner. Urbana had enjoyed his position leading the powerful labor force. With the death of his benefactor-blackmailer, he was now free to operate without concern.
When Pietro Lazi and Manuell Cozmento, two high ranking deputies within the coalition, were mysteriously invited to a meeting at a small corner sidebar, they didn’t know what to make of this mysterious old German who said little except, “You should know about your coalition president.”
The German slipped a beaten, weathered file across the table to the two labor leaders, then stood up and left just as strangely as he had approached them. It was an old, secret police file, dated from the 1980s. The file contained the records of meetings between police and a secret informant, one Felix Guzman Uraba, who reported seditious behavior by labor figures at the time. Among the names mentioned as violent revolutionaries were Pablo Lazi and Edwardo Cozmento, the long since disappeared fathers of the two men now staring wide-eyed at the well worn file.
For the violence in Uruguay, President Jose Mojica resisted the outcries and demands to take stronger police action against the radicalism. In time, with the bombings and terrorism suddenly coming to a halt, the momentum of the violence and protests gradually died down. Calm and normality returned to the country. With the central figure of any possible government seizure now dead, the idea of the coup fell apart and disintegrated.
As predicted, it wasn’t long before the image of Kafka Dayan was sprayed across the world news as the terrorist responsible for the violent attack in Buenos Aires and the death of a prominent businessman and several policemen. The horrible massacre led to the deaths of an Uruguay politician and ten high ranking police and military officers.
Across news sites everywhere, reporters questioned what the emergence of this terrorist attack meant. Experts discussed the rise of a new Jewish terror movement and whether it was political or religious in nature.
All theories ended with the same message ─ a new terrorist had struck, and his name was Kafka Dayan.
SO, WHAT DID YOU THINK?
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—J.E. Higgins
Cast of Characters
Major Rashid al’Akim — Iranian soldier from al’ Quds unit working for Qalmini
Contessa Selena de Alvarez — Mysterious international broker of criminal services
Felix Augusto —Young professional killer; works for Zacha
Avi — Old friend of Nouri’s; helping train Iranian recruits
Ramon Caldoza — Research staff ofr the Partido National in Chamber of Deputies
Manuel Culvera — Uruguay Minister of Interior
Kafka Dayan — Recruited by Micha Cohen to stop the Iranian coupe
Martin Derry — Irish mercenary hired by Contessa to train recruits & execute missions
Victorio Deigo — Owner of food van selling homemade meals
Major Semir Ali Essouri — Iranian soldier from al’ Quds unit working for Qalmini
Solomon Cabriza Gold — Leader of Guardians of Israel; young group fighting for Israel
Ernesto Guevero — Commander in Uruguay army
Jewish financial reps — Plan presented to acquire funding for Israeli plan to stop Iranians.
Mr. Greentree
Mr. Cincade
Mr. Lupon
Mr. Comfort
Keppa — Old friend of Nouri’s; helping train Iranian recruits
Rabbi Abraham Kovinski — Rabbi at Jewish Community Center
Ulbrict Laudman — Black ops coordinator for Straudner
Don Diego Francisco del’ Meduriso, the Patron — The Contessa’s contact for black market arms
Elloy Mendoza — CEO of Bolivar Investments & Acquisitions & Cuban Directorate Generale Intelligensia (DGI)
Jose Mojica — President of Uruguay
Illana Muricia — Recruited by the Contessa as personal assistant
Myra — Young teenager working at the Jewish Community Center
Professor Raphael Patrica — Recruits student revolutionaries for the Contessa
Oskar Perez — Mercenary working for Kafka
Ian Plūcker — Ferry Owner of the Ronin Establishment; mercenary broker
Ali Anwar al Qalmini — Leader of Iranian forces to destabilize Uruguay to overthrow its democratic government
Raizza the Negress — Waitress at the Ronin Establishment
Alyssa Rios — CEO of Guardian Angel Intelligence (GAI)
Darren Ripley — Mercenary working for Kafka
Oskar Vlak Straudner — Member of Partido Nacional or National Party in Uruguay. Recruited by Qalmini to be the next President of Uruguay
Nouri al’Marak Surriman — Recruited by Iranians to aid operations
Felix Guzman Uraba—Uruguay labor union leader
Klaas Vanderhook — Mercenary working for Kafka
Mr. Vargas — Strong arm operator working for Elloy Mendoza
Emil Zacha — Former operative for Argentina’s Intelligence Secretariat (SI). Works for the Contessa
Venzuelo Zamora — Lead instructor/trainer for Contessa’s student revolutionaries
Acknowledgments
To Lewis R. Higgins, Gloria Higgins, Shannon Lasky, Bob Liepold for their time reading and editing, and to Shayne at Wicked Good Book Covers for the fantastic cover image, as well as all the many others who contributed to the making of this book, I would like to extend my sincere thanks.
About the Author
J.E. Higgins is a former soldier who spent 12 years in the US military, first as infantryman in the Marine Corps and then in the military police with the Army. He holds a B.A. in Government and a Masters in Intelligence; intelligence operations.
You can reach J.E. Higgins at his website: www.thehigginsreport.com where he publishes monthly papers on international political trends.