LOST AND LETHAL

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LOST AND LETHAL Page 23

by Fredrick L. Stafford


  A drunken girl’s night out.

  Azzur lowered his weapon and held it behind his back.

  Molka did the same.

  Azzur addressed Tariq and the general. “If you speak to them, they will have to die along with you.”

  Tariq focused on Azzur. “Azzur, before things get any uglier, I just want to say you have a future star in Molka. So don’t hold this mess of a task against her. It wasn’t all her fault, and she will get better with time.”

  The three women arrived aside the café and continued on with laughs and loud talk without paying the foursome any attention until:

  They fanned into a tactical formation, drew handguns from behind their backs, and pointed their weapons at Molka and Azzur.

  One barked hard-faced commands in Turkish.

  The general translated. “They are telling you both to slowly place your weapons on the ground, place your hands atop your heads, step back from your weapons, and do not move.”

  Molka and Azzur complied.

  Tariq rose, and his face teased Azzur with an ultra-charismatic smile. “These are the friends we were waiting for. They’re also our escort across the border.”

  Azzur’s face teased Tariq with a smile masking his anger. “You are a very cunning and ingenious conman, Tariq. But maybe one day the Americans will tire of your tricks. And then where will you go?”

  “As long as it’s away from you, I’ll be happy.” Tariq left his phone on the table and moved next to the young women.

  Molka spoke up. “If you really want to be happy, go home and marry that beautiful nurse.”

  Tariq grinned at Molka. “Good luck, gorgeous warrior woman.” He nodded toward Azzur. “You’re going to need it.”

  The general stood and extended a hand to Azzur for shaking. “I hope there will be no hard feelings between us.”

  Azzur removed his right hand from his head and shook. “In our business…how can there be?”

  Azzur smoked in silence for 30-minutes as Molka drove through the evening darkness back to the tragedy called Nicosia International Airport.

  More British guards on UN duty cleared them through the gate, and Molka proceeded to the dead terminal building where the chartered jet waited on the apron fronting it. The aircraft’s cabin lights glowed through its windows, and it appeared ready to start engines and depart.

  Molka stopped five meters short from it.

  Azzur remained in his seat and gazed straight ahead. “When it was first proposed, I warned the Counsel that the projects program was destined for trouble. I told them you neophytes would probably make enough mistakes to doom our nation. However, the prime minister was enthralled with something so new and dangerous. The prime minister is always excited by such things. The Counsel dismissed my concerns, of course. And so, I shut my mouth, followed orders, recruited projects, and sent them on tasks.”

  Azzur blew smoke and continued. “However, for this task, I volunteered to extract the general personally. It was too important to leave to the projects, I protested. The chief would not hear of it. I was told experienced project managers are irreplaceable, but even more than that, we must let the projects find their way for better or worse.” He turned to Molka with a disappointed face. “At what price, though?”

  Molka reached behind her head and tugged on the base of her ponytail. “Azzur, I’m sorry about the mistakes I made on this task. But you knew what you were getting when you got me. Need someone to pilot a Blackhawk into a tight LZ in the middle of the night while under heavy fire and pick up an assault team, and then fly back out of that chaos and bring everyone home alive? I’m your girl. But this covert operative stuff…it doesn’t come naturally to me. That’s all I can say.”

  Azzur opened the door and flipped away his cigarette butt. “Return to Larnaca. A room will be waiting for you at the airport hotel. In the morning, a ticket home will be waiting for you with El Al. Compose a full account of everything that occurred on your task and send it to me through your encrypted email account before you go to bed tonight. Report to my office tomorrow at 11AM. A new project manager for you may be sitting at my desk, but either way, your future with the program will be decided then.”

  PROJECT MOLKA: TASK 1

  TASK: INCONCLUSIVE

  CHAPTER 50

  Tel Aviv, Israel

  Saturday, 10:50AM

  The lobby directory in the plain, gray 10-story downtown office building listed the fourth floor as being occupied by ICM Business Solutions: A subsidiary of ICM Electronics of Lowell, Massachusetts.

  Both titles represented fictional entities created by the Counsel, and the fourth floor actually housed several Counsel offices, including Azzur’s.

  Molka entered the building’s elevator in a blue sundress and white canvass sneakers. Her hair was styled in a French braid ponytail, and she wore her black-framed glasses.

  The elevator opened out onto a fourth-floor reception area containing several chairs fronted by a receptionist desk and a young attractive female receptionist.

  A large ICM Business Solutions logo dominated the wall behind her.

  She looked up at Molka.

  “Good morning,” Molka said, “I have an 11 o’clock appointment with Azzur or…whoever took his place. Did someone take his place,” Molka grinned, “she asked hopefully?”

  The girl shook her head no without humor and pointed to a closed door on the room’s opposite side with a security camera mounted above it.

  Molka moved to the door, stood in front of it, and looked up at the camera.

  The door unlocked and opened to the struggling new beard of a college-aged male slinging a UZI. He stepped aside, and Molka entered a long hallway with several closed doors on each side, all with a security camera mounted above them and a chair beside them.

  Molka moved to the chair outside the last door on the right and sat. And what to expect when Azzur auto-unlocked his door and allowed her to enter and sit in front of his desk, she did not know.

  As instructed, she composed an account of what occurred on her first task when she’d gotten home the night before and sent it to Azzur via secure email. And she could swear everything she included in the report was true. This is why she left out the part about Tariq conspiring with Jäger and Fuchs to exchange the general for the 4-million Turkish Lira.

  But she didn’t leave it out just because it would reveal her egregious failure as task security specialist by allowing Tariq to deceive her. Which would lead to her dismissal from the program. Which could happen any way when the door opened.

  She also left it out because she gave Tariq her word.

  And no matter what happened when the door opened, she would always keep that word.

  Because her word always meant something to her.

  A buzzer sounded, an auto-lock clicked, and Azzur’s office door opened to Uri. He exited wearing a conservative brown business-type suit and carrying a brown briefcase. The door closed and auto-locked behind him.

  Molka smiled up at him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Still a bit of a headache,” Uri said. “And I’m in concussion protocol, so I’m grounded for a while. But I made my case, and Azzur didn’t dismiss me from the program.”

  “That’s probably because you’re the program’s only fixed-wing pilot.”

  “True, but more importantly, Azzur also knows superior talent when he sees it.”

  Molka grinned. “Yet, he still didn’t dismiss you.”

  Uri smirked. “Very funny. But you won’t be laughing when Azzur gets done with you.”

  Uri moved down the hallway.

  Molka waved to his back. “Bye, Uri. Maybe we’ll work together again sometime.”

  Uri kept moving and did not look back. “Righteous mercy, I hope not.”

  Molka called after him. “Thanks! I respect your work too, Uri!”

  A buzzer sounded, and the door auto-unlocked again.

  Molka stood and entered Azzur’s office.

  Same a
s her last visit, the room’s total decor consisted of dark paneled walls—which featured a huge world map on the right-side—and Azzur’s dark metal desk in the back, a single metal chair fronting the desk, and a permanent cigarette smoke haze.

  Azzur sat behind the desk wearing a tan open-collared short-sleeved shirt and viewed an open laptop. A lit cigarette smoked in a huge glass ashtray near his elbow.

  Molka faked coughed and waved her hand at the rising smoke. “I just have to say that the big no smoking sign on the outside of this building must be your greatest covert achievement.”

  Azzur did not look up from the laptop. “You often use sarcasm when you are nervous. That is a tell. You should work to break this tendency. Sit down.”

  Molka sat.

  Azzur viewed her carefully. “I received a call from a good friend in the American Corporation this morning. When he stopped laughing, he thanked me for getting General Shamieh safely away from Zoran the Great for him.”

  Molka nodded. “So that confirms Tariq did deliver him to the Americans.”

  “Yes,” Azzur said. “For a substantial financial reward. Tariq also gave himself to the Americans. He is now on their payroll as a special counter-intelligence consultant.”

  “And that means you won’t be able to touch him while he holds that position.”

  “That is correct. My American friend also told me the general’s people were never informed he would be taken to Cyprus by us. That lie was simply Tariq’s way of setting in motion his plan to recover the general’s list and to get the list and the general over the border and to the safety of the Americans. The only thing I was unable to confirm is exactly when or where Tariq approached the general with his scheme.”

  Molka knew: The previous day in a fortress dungeon.

  Azzur blew smoke and continued. “Fortunately, the Americans agreed to share a copy of the general’s real list with us.”

  Molka’s face lit up. “Great! So the task was completed successfully.”

  Azzur grudged a nod. “Technically.”

  “Ok. I didn’t put this in my report because I wanted to tell you personally, but Tariq mentioned to me that he didn’t want to come to work for you. And he figured out a way to get his wish. But don’t feel too bad, Azzur. Like you said, he’s a very cunning and ingenious conman.” Molka grinned. “I also didn’t mention in my report that he showed me a pic on his phone of him shaking hands with our prime minister at, what he said was, a private meeting to congratulate him for his services. I know now it's fake. But it was a good fake at that.”

  Azzur reached into a desk drawer, removed a thick brown file folder with Tariq’s name labeled on the cover, and removed a printout of the photo Tariq showed Molka of him shaking the prime minister’s hand. “Is this the photo you are referring to?”

  Molka grinned at it. “Yes. It looks totally legit, doesn’t it?”

  “It is legitimate. He had that photo-op staged when he crashed a private charity fundraiser held by the prime minister. I suppose he thought it might be useful when he had to deceive someone when in a tight situation.”

  Molka shook her head in amazement. “Wow. He really played us both, didn’t he?”

  Azzur stared at Molka. “He could not have played me if you had not allowed yourself to be unwittingly recruited into his scheme.”

  Molka sat back and folded her arms. “I thought about that all night. And I don’t feel I should take the total blame for me being deceived.”

  Azzur raised his eyebrows. “And why is that?”

  “Because Tariq was the contact you assigned us. And due to his superior experience in covert operations, you instructed me that he would be in charge of the ground operation in Turkey and that I take his advice and defer to him if something questionable occurred. I followed your instructions on that strictly. So if anyone is to blame, it’s you for not vetting your asset better.”

  Azzur flicked ash. “The chief made those same points when I spoke to him about you this morning. Therefore, he thinks you should be allowed to continue in the program. However, he left the final decision to me. And I am inclined toward immediate dismissal.”

  A vision of her little Janetta flashed across Molka’s mind, and she sprung from her seat, slammed her fists on the desktop, and leaned toward Azzur, her face in his face.

  Azzur did not flinch.

  Molka lowered her voice to serious wrath. “I think you’re inclined toward my immediate dismissal mainly to cover for the mistakes you made. And I think that stinks. But before you make your decision on my future, I want you to hear this: Yes. I’m a neophyte. And yes, I made a lot of mistakes on my first task. Major mistakes because of my inexperience. I’m a fast learner, though, and I’ll never be outworked by anyone. So, with time, I will get better. Much better. And I promise if you stick with me, for every task I’m assigned, I’ll lay it all on the line and give you everything I have and more.”

  Azzur kept his face locked on Molka’s. “For each task, you will lay it all on the line and give me everything you have and a lot more.”

  “You have my word, Azzur.”

  Azzur smiled, picked up his cigarette, and leaned back. “And I will hold you to that word. Project Molka.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Fourteen Months Later

  Hilton Hotel

  Melbourne, Australia

  The hotel room phone ringing woke Azzur.

  He reached for it in the dark and knocked an empty Scotch bottle beside the phone to the floor.

  He picked up the handset and answered. “Yes?”

  An Australian accented male voice replied: “Azzur?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Flannery, sir. I’m supervising the protective unit tonight for the patient at Melbourne Hospital named Molka. Do you know Molka?”

  “Yes, I know Molka. She has been there several days; what is today?”

  “Thursday, sir.”

  “Yes, she has been there for four days. Yes, I know her.” Azzur sat up and clicked on the nightstand light. “Did something happen tonight?”

  “The doctors asked me to contact you and request that you come to the hospital as soon as possible.”

  “Is she—is there a problem?”

  “They wouldn’t tell me, sir. They only said we should contact you since you are her beneficiary and request you to come to the hospital.”

  “Of course,” Azzur said.

  “I see you are on the list of approved visitors. Please bring your photo ID.”

  Azzur rushed from the taxicab, ran into the hospital, ran to the elevators, and rode up to the ICU.

  A white-coated doctor Azzur had spoken to before waited for him in the ICU waiting area.

  “What is the problem?” Azzur said.

  “She’s awake,” the doctor said. “She’s been awake for several hours. She’s—” The doctor’s face conveyed concern. “You look…very exhausted. Are you ok?”

  Azzur waved a dismissive hand. “I am fine. How is she?”

  “Too soon to tell if any, or how much, brain damage she may have sustained, but she’s responding well so far. The neurologist will be back in the morning to see her again.”

  “Is she talking?” Azzur said.

  “Yes, she’s talking, but obviously, she’s still trying to process her situation.”

  “Can I speak to her?”

  “Yes, that’s why I called for you. We feel seeing a familiar face will possibly be comforting and helpful in her recovery.”

  Outside Molka’s private room, a serious elite protection unit man checked Azzur’s ID and frisked him before allowing him to enter.

  Molka sat up in her bed. The large bandage on her head remained. The swelling in her face had receded a bit, but she was still unrecognizable.

  Her blood red and blue eyes viewed Azzur.

  Azzur moved to her bedside. “You have finally woken up.”

  Molka spoke with a weakened and hoarse voice. “They told me I’m in Australia, and
someone tried to kill me with a grenade.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Why am I in Australia, and who tried to kill me with a grenade?”

  “We will discuss that at a later time.”

  Molka squinted through her bloated cheeks at Azzur. “Oooo…sweet Aunt Zillah, you need a shave.”

  Azzur touched his four-day unshaved face and smiled. “Yes. I certainly do.”

  “I had something I needed to tell you.”

  “What, Molka. What is it you needed to tell me?”

  “It was um…about my…um… my veterinary office? Yes. My veterinary office. I found men working in it. Your men.”

  Azzur’s eyes teared. “Yes, yes, you caught my men working in your veterinary office without your permission several days ago.” He smiled. “You knocked two of them unconscious and terrorized the other two.”

  “When can I go home, Azzur?”

  Azzur moved closer to the bed and placed his hand on the metal safety rail. “I am taking you home as soon as they allow it.”

  “Then what happens?”

  “Then, when you are ready, you will resume your tasks.”

  “Resume my tasks?” Molka nodded and gazed straight ahead. “Yes. I want to resume my tasks. For my little Janetta, I want to resume my tasks. I have five more to complete, right?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Well, when I am ready to resume my tasks, make the next one a tough one. The toughest one you’ve got. Because I have the urge to...the urge to….”

  “Yes, Molka?”

  Molka’s eyes locked on Azzur and her voice strengthened. “Give me the toughest task you’ve got because I have the urge to really kick someone’s ass.”

  Azzur smiled again and wiped tears. “And you will get your wish. Since the toughest task at the top of my list involves a very worthy ass for you to go kick.”

  “Perfect.” Molka presented a wicked grin. “And I can’t wait to find out who it is.”

 

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