The Istanbul Conspiracy

by Lynda Filler

  “No. We do know one of the people in the photo is the dead Minister of Defense. Here’s where it gets weird. If he was meeting with two terrorists or whatever they are, then why would they kill him? If he’s part of some type of plot or payoff scheme, you would think they would want to keep their asset safe.”

  No one spoke. Then RB asked.

  “Was he on the take?”

  “Not in the traditional way. Nothing showed up in bank funds so far, nor did we find numbers or information for safety deposit boxes. It took us a long time to eliminate that possibility. I heard he had a mistress, so there has to be a trail to her. We couldn’t find it. His texts to her, although encrypted, were definitely a mistake on his part. In the last hour, Cruz figured it out. He must have used untraceable income/outgoing funds through crypto-currency, and then he sent her the hash code links in plain text on his phone. He used her to hide his involvement. But the big question is, where did the funds originate? And why? What was he expected to do for the money?”

  “Okay, leave that up to me. If I get your information Firestorm, I can match it to what I get from the Turk.” RB’s focus was no longer on the team.

  No one spoke. This was painful enough without stating the obvious.

  “If it’s what it appears to be, this is treason. Only now, the Minister of Defense is dead. And he can’t explain nor defend himself. I can’t say I was particularly fond of the guy, but my wife loved her father.” Yunus turned away from the group. All he could think of was the pain in Sude’s heart. Her father and mother were both dead. And she should be too. How could he ever explain why?

  “What the hell is going on?” The Turk went back to his computer. Then he asked the question that frightened him the most. “Do you think Sude was a target, maybe a warning to keep me away from this plot?”

  “Look, it’s too soon to know anything for sure. You used Raven Group International operatives to secure this hospital. That was very smart. She will be safe—at least while she’s in here.”

  After twenty minutes of silence, while the team focused on their computers, Raven questioned Yunus.

  “Did I hear that the President of Turkey was on the guest list?”

  “Yes.” Yunus looked at Luke with interest. The Turk had been so overwhelmed with grief he’d forgotten about that.

  “He’s not among the injured.”

  “No. The President canceled at the last minute. He had to fly to Russia for a meeting regarding a billion-dollar contract to produce parts for our new military equipment.”

  Everyone stopped what they were doing.

  “RB, did you hear that?” The video feed was open, so RB could participate from Seattle.

  “I’m on it, boss.”

  They waited.

  “This is interesting. It seems the President took a private jet supposedly to Russia, from the new airport in Istanbul, not Ankara.”

  “Where did he land?”

  “That’s even more curious. The flight plan is classified, but when I get around that wall, it’s missing completely.”

  Samaar spoke up.

  “I know it will take time for RB to follow that trail, so I have a thought. I don’t know about you guys, but I missed my own wedding last night. And I didn’t travel all the way to Istanbul to eat junk from a vending machine! Who’s up for some Turkish food?”

  The guys relaxed their body language at the idea of fuel.

  “I can order take out. I know just the place. Any vegans in the group?” The guys looked horrified. The Turk looked at the lone hand raised.

  “Me!” Rachel spoke up. The rest turned towards her like she was from another planet. “Just kidding. I like my meat spicy, roasted, and lots of it!”

  “You’re in charge, Yunus, surprise us,” Samaar added.

  23

  Nothing is what it seems.

  Cruz needed a break. “Guys, I’m going for food. Who wants to take a break with me?”

  “I’m in.” The tall, lanky new girl from Ankara smiled at her favorite co-worker.

  Another member of the team spoke up, “I’m onto something here, and I don’t want to lose concentration. Bring me back some chicken kebab, or Doner.” The others nodded in agreement without taking their eyes away from their screens.

  Cruz thought about making a quick stop at her place to change clothes and leave food for the neighborhood cats, but she’d do that after her lunch break.

  The girls made light conversation, but Cruz could feel nervous tension from her co-worker.

  “Hey, Cruz. Have you got a partner?” The Ankara girl blushed. It had taken her weeks on the team to get up the nerve to ask a not-so-innocent question.

  “Nope, no time for men or women.”

  If it was possible, the Ankara girl went a deeper shade of red.

  “Um, sorry, I mean, I thought you liked, well, you know, girls.” She looked away; her lonely heart distraught.

  “I’m just playing with you.” Cruz took pity on her co-worker. She dressed like a fashion model who belonged on the runway. Instead, she sat behind a laptop with a bunch of hackers. They’d dubbed her Skye—the girl was so tall. No one used real names on the team. It was too easy to make a slip in the wrong place at the wrong time. “But, seriously, I don’t have time for relationships. One-night-stands are more my style.”

  They took in the smells of the kebab stands and decided to eat BBQ chicken over by the Mosque.

  Cruz looked closely at Skye. Technically they worked as a team, but Cruz was the unspoken leader, and everyone knew it. Cruz was the first recruit. Yunus initially found her in the dark web and used Firestorm’s secret technology to trace her IP address. She was so well masked he almost gave up. Then he found her physical location in the middle of a University lunchroom. She was registered at Bahcesehir University in political and computer sciences. But with her level of intelligence, she read the books in a couple of days, wrote the exams—which she aced—and never bothered to attend the classes. Instead, she hung out in chatrooms with fellow hackers and learned the latest programs while picking up techniques and political information from top-secret networks in the USA. It was the haircut and the nose ring that gave her the ‘don’t fuck with me’ look. But lately, she’d grown out her hair to shoulder length, removed the metal, and toned down her image to blend in more. And inside, she was soft, and if she was honest with herself, she longed for love. Her thoughts were interrupted.

  “I knew her.” Skye’s eyes held tears.

  “Knew whom?”

  “Sude. We met in high school. She’s from Ankara, you know. I hung with the nerds, the IQ thing. But I always had a passion for fashion. So, we became friends. Sude started her fashion blog when she was fourteen. Then she moved to Istanbul and ran the local fashion shows for the big Turkish brands while she was still in college. That’s how I met Yunus.”

  Cruz took a closer look at the newbie. She had to approve any hires for the team. Yunus told her about Skye, who carried her secrets deep. But when he found out Skye’s entire family was lost in a terrorist attack near the Syrian border, Yunus knew it wouldn’t be hard to recruit her to work on top-secret anti-terrorism or trafficking projects. Skye had a photographic memory, amongst other talents. She fit in well with the existing team.

  “I don’t know why I always assumed Sude grew up in Istanbul. She had the Istanbul vibe. I guess it was the fashionista thing.”

  “Yes, but her father and the political scene—all that was part of her Ankara life.”

  “Maybe we need to look deeper into Sude’s past.”

  “Yeah, she had some intense friends in college.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Exchange students. You know, like an Arab guy who was crazy about her, Abdul. I only met him one time. But I think he was born in Iran. They must have stayed in touch. Sude went to Tehran for a family event.”

  “Wait. I knew Abdul. Oh, now, I remember you. You were a year behind, right? I thought when you came to work with us t
hat I knew you from somewhere. How long ago was Sude’s trip to Iran?”

  “Not too long ago. Maybe a month or so.”

  “I was friends with Sude in college. I was friends with Abdul, too. Funny, you and I never hung out.” There was a slight hint of skepticism that Cruz attempted to hide. Have they been compromised by this girl?

  “I dropped out.”

  “Why? You are obviously brilliant.”

  “My parents… my family, you know…” Tears sprang up in her eyes.

  “Look, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up anything hurtful.”

  “No, please don’t worry. I’m okay, really.”

  “The photo we found on the phone—why didn’t you mention the Middle Eastern connection before?”

  “I didn’t really know Sude’s Dad. We never spoke about him, and I never met him. It didn’t cross my mind until now. Didn’t you know about the trip? I mean, you’re close with Yunus.”

  “I should have known. Did Sude’s family go with her to Tehran?”

  “I’m not sure. But now that I think about it, Yunus mentioned Sude was acting all weird about it because her Dad insisted on going with her. Like a chaperone or something. She might have photos on social media. I follow her, so let me check my Instagram account.”

  So, this is what happens when you don’t talk to your team about their social life. How could she have missed this connection?

  “Let’s get some Doner for the team and head to the office. Once we’re back, I want you to make a bullet list of anything you can think of about Sude, her acquaintances in high school or University, and any conversations you had with Abdul that might have felt strange. This is a lot of coincidence.”

  “Sure, anything to help.”

  24

  Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

  “I sent you to Stanford after your degree in Istanbul for one reason only!”

  Abdul dreaded meetings with his powerful father. It always felt like an inquisition.

  “I know. I graduated so you didn’t throw your money away.”

  “Son, it’s not about the money. Stanford is all about the connections. The second-largest percentage of American politicians hold degrees from Stanford.”

  “Yes, Sir. And I’ve stayed in touch with the guys on the fast track in American politics.”

  “I also put you in charge of the cryptocurrencies because of the expertise you’ve gained in the financial markets. But again, I have to ask you how safe is our money? Can we be assured the U.S. Government can’t find or attack the funds hidden in cryptocurrency?”

  “Dad, trust me. We’ve done everything we can to protect the money. No one can touch it. And we explained to each purchaser how to store their hash codes in a safe place.”

  Abdul remained calm over the now-weekly tense inquisition. Something was going on, and he didn’t really want to know what it was about. His father was distracted, moody, and remained silent when he sat at the table with his family. Abdul wanted to get this current annoying conversation over with. In the early evening, he had a rendezvous with his equestrian buddy from Stanford, whose girlfriend was the daughter of one of the Forbes top billionaires in the world.

  He had to get away from his Iranian family.

  Something was happening in Tehran, and thankfully, he hadn’t been brought into the conversation. Whatever it was, he knew it was intense. And more than likely dangerous if his father’s worried expression was an indication. The weekly trips to Tehran from Saudi Arabia put Abdul on edge. They were still technically citizens of Iran but with dual citizenship in Saudi Arabia. If Abdul didn’t find a way to emigrate to the USA now, before tensions escalated, he would be stuck doing business in a country that at best was moving backward in time, and at worst, could end up obliterated by the U.S. military.

  “Can I be excused now? I have an urgent business meeting to attend.” His father turned away without further comment.

  Not for the first time did he feel a lack of connection with his father. Maybe it was his religious fervor or his father’s rigid belief that Iran was correct in the way it was handling the crumbling nuclear deal.

  Abdul dismissed his private security. The meeting with his friend and American girlfriend was a convenience for Abdul. What really excited him was a meeting in an hour with a representative of a think tank from Washington, D.C. His MBA from Stanford opened the door. Casually dropping political connections carefully cultivated at the university, got him the interview. His expertise in all things on the web, plus his finance degree, shortlisted him with a political consulting firm. They knew the importance of Saudi Arabian money and insider Iranian connections. The hardliners in Saudi were emboldened, especially after the lack of any kind of reprisals over the Kashoggi murder. Still, the USA poured money into the country through foreign trade.

  He knew far too much about the inner workings of both countries. It was a good thing he’d trained his second-in-command to take over the business in Tehran because one day soon, he was getting on an airplane to the USA and never coming back.

  25

  Istanbul, the private hospital

  “What do we know about the Yacht?” Firestorm was known for his innate ability to listen, type, and talk at the same time.

  The Turk spoke up. “It belonged to a billionaire family friend of Minister of Defense. He generously offers it out to his friends for private events. Why?”

  “Was the friend invited to the wedding?”

  “Yes. But the gentleman had a conflict in his schedule. He’s friends with Sude’s parents. He’s a political influencer and confidant of the President.”

  “And the President was on your guest list, right?”

  “Yes. But he had to cancel at the last minute.”

  Luke Raven was listening in the background. The team worked together on this project, so they were now in conference mode with RB, who was back in the USA. The doors to their hospital office were locked from the inside. They’d also swept the room whenever someone left or returned, or food arrived.

  Luke Raven had perfected the espionage game. He spent his early years at the NSA, often referred to as “No Such Agency.” His expertise was in science, mathematics, and engineering. A colleague once complained that if privacy disappears from the face of the Earth, mathematicians would be amongst the most culpable. Raven laughed and acknowledged this as a fact.

  Luke went on to develop and work with counter-terrorism teams, the ones that worked tirelessly without oversight, committed to keeping America safe. He thought about the agencies within agencies so top secret that even the President of the USA was unaware of their existence—especially the current President who had a predilection for exposing secrets. And not to get political, but Luke could be heard to suggest that keeping the current President ignorant of top-secret projects might ultimately be a good thing.

  Raven’s billions allowed him to work without allegiance to any party or President. His love of country and the human race kept him going while the atrocities committed by mankind hurt him daily. If he had a flaw, it was his hubris. He thought his knowledge and I.Q. were unparalleled. And if his enemies looked for weakness, it would be his love of family and friends. Both had been exploited over the years. He was forced to even the score more than once and would do so many times before he died.

  “Luke. Where did you go?”

  “Thinking, RB, I’m always thinking.”

  “I did look into the plane in Russia, boss. I have valuable sources, so this information must never leave the team. It seems the Russians have agreed to take an active role in policing the border between Syria and Turkey. That’s not going to sit well with the United States, but Turkey is surrounded by challenges and needs these alliances.” No one spoke. “

  “I’ve cross-referenced the guest list with the actual attendees. I’ve found some interesting information. I’ll send through what I’ve got. I’m also running facial recognition software on the security files that the Turk installed before the wed
ding began. Unfortunately, they don’t show that anything was amiss until the weapons came out. It’s a good thing those cameras were hidden and connected directly offsite. All the most obvious security electricals were disabled by the terrorists before the event began. Smart move, Yunus.”

  Yunus grunted acknowledgment, but his intensity was focused on his computer. “One of my team members heard rumors of a bio-chemical attack of ‘epic proportions.’ Himanish, you mentioned your team heard something, also.”

  Himanish was connected with his office looking for updates.

  Luke stopped what he was doing immediately.

  “RB that’s two places it showed up.”

  “Did she get an IP address?”

  “Not yet. My operative was playing war games, and someone was bragging. Stupid really. Loose lips.”

  “Hmm. Have her send me everything she found. One time can be a hoax. But when two corroborate, there’s something happening. Keywords. Give them to me.” RB added this to the parameters he had already set up. Raven recognized RB’s value and loyalty way back in Cal Tech days. He was the closest thing Raven ever had to a family after his parents passed away and before his wife and daughter were murdered. He waited for the group to respond.

  “I’ll go first, Crypto-currency, biochemical-attack, triple volume increase of buys of MAGE currency over the last three months.” Firestorm listed his top concerns.

  “Middle Eastern photo, dead key cabinet members, last-minute cancellation of attendance by the President of Turkey.” The Turk added one more, “increasing rumors of a coup over the summer.”

  Samaar spoke up, “What about how easy it was to infiltrate the security and the serving staff of the yacht. We need to take a really close look at the owner of the yacht.”

  RB spoke up. “I checked out the owner of the yacht. Nothing there that I can see. He’s got a huge ego and even bigger bank account. He loves to share his toys. Big social media presence and nothing secretive. I will keep looking but he’s pretty much a dead end.”