by Lynda Filler
“Sure.”
“Talk to her. Try to get more information on the trip to Saudi Arabia for the cousin’s wedding. Maybe Sude’s father was an accidental victim. We don’t know yet. It’s possible Sude saw or heard something and doesn’t know it. If she had feelings for Abdul at one point, she might be hesitant to talk about him with me. But she would open up to you.”
“Okay, Yunus. I’m not taking any chances. Yesterday I picked up a couple of things to disguise my looks. Maybe I’ll go in as a delivery person—just in case someone is watching your place.”
“Good idea, but don’t scare Sude. Tell her I’ll see her later. I think I may have to give her more information than I wanted.”
“Alright. I will leave soon.”
“One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“You said you and Abdul exchanged numbers. Why don’t you call after you meet with Sude, and see how he’s settling in? Try to get close—old friends and all. We need some answers, and there are too many links and coincidences to ignore.”
“Right. I’ll let you know what Abdul says.”
Half-an-hour later, Cruz negotiated a generous tip with a Pizza delivery guy. They agreed he’d take a long break, and she would borrow his motorcycle. He would tell his boss he had a flat tire and had to wait to fix it, and she would return the bike as soon as she finished her conversation with Sude. At the last minute, she grabbed his Pizza jacket and cap too.
The place was extremely well guarded because Yunus lived there. It’s also likely, Sude’s Dad had insisted she have protection when she moved out of the family home and informed her father that the two lovers were going to move-in together. Either way, Yunus called and sent through her picture, so security would not interrupt Cruz when she took the elevator to his condo.
She quickly removed the jacket so there would be no questions from either woman. Yunus’ mom answered the door.
“Sorry to bother you. I know this is a challenging and sad time for you. Yunus told you I was coming?”
“Yes, Sude is sitting up in the living room. I will make tea. Go ahead.”
“Cruz. I’m so happy to see you.” The two hugged. “It’s been a long time. I guess I should say I’m happy you weren’t able to come to my wedding.” Fresh tears flowed.
“Ah, I’m so sorry, Sude. I would have come sooner, but Yunus had so much security at the hospital, and he didn’t want you bothered. You are looking well.”
“Thank you. I understand I’m dead.”
Cruz’s mind went into crazy mode. “What are you talking about?” Had she received a death threat? Was the apartment compromised? Cruz pulled a gun from her jacket and looked around frantically.
“Wait. I meant the media. Yunus said it was a terrorist attack, but they don’t know if it was random or intended for me, or us. The media thinks I’m already dead.”
Sude looked at the weapon in Cruz’s hand. It wasn’t the first time she had seen a gun. She had found Yunus’ hiding places but never said anything. When your lover leads a double life and thinks you don’t know it, it’s best not to ask a lot of questions. She’d learned that lesson growing up with a father in Turkish politics.
She thought back to the first time she found clues that Yunus did clandestine work. She had discussed it with her father. He said that a country like Turkey needed a lot of protection. Her Dad did some very cautious digging and only told her that her lover was not playing around on her. He also said that anything Yunus might be doing was classified.
She looked out at the view of the Bosphorus from their apartment. In one of the last conversations she had with her Dad, he’d given her this piece of wisdom: “Sometimes it’s better not to know everything about your partner. It might be dangerous for you and for him.” Were those prophetic words? Had he been talking about himself and her mother, or Yunus?
Cruz put her weapon away.
“Don’t scare me like that! We are all worried about your safety.”
“Cruz, Yunus won’t tell me anything. What’s going on?”
“We really don’t know. And that’s the truth. I’m sure Yunus will tell you everything he knows when he finds out.”
“He asked me strange questions about my father. Do you think my father was involved in something bad?”
“The guys are still investigating.” Cruz steered the conversation away from Yunus. “By the way, you know who’s in town?”
“Who?”
“Abdul.”
“Really?” Sude smiled at the mention of her friend.
“Yes. I saw Abdul yesterday. He said he’s working for an American political group, and he will be living in Istanbul for the next while.”
“That’s strange. Abdul didn’t say anything about coming to Istanbul when we were there for his cousin’s wedding.”
“That was a couple of months ago, right? I don’t think he knew. You guys talked a lot then?”
“No. Not really. Abdul was busy with work. He traveled a lot.”
“I know he lived in Saudi Arabia, but what kind of work was he doing?”
“He said he was doing something for the government.”
“The Saudi government?”
“You know, I never asked. I assumed it was the Saudis, but he said he spent so much time on an airplane he should have enough Airmiles for a free flight to America. That was his dream, you know.”
The two sat in silence.
“Cruz, I used to ask my dad questions, but he always deflected. I learned many years ago that it’s best not to ask about things that don’t concern me. But this is my life, and I almost died. I lost my parents, Cruz! And Yunus won’t share anything! And now you show up, and you have a gun!”
Yunus’ mom came rushing into the room.
“Shh, honey, it’s okay. Don’t cry.” She gave Cruz the evil eye.
“I’m sorry if I upset you Sude, it was not my intention. I will go now.”
“Momma Yunus, it’s alright. I need to talk to Cruz in private, please.”
Both girls waited until Momma left and closed the door.
“Look, Cruz, I’m not completely stupid. I was born into a political family, so I know how to keep quiet. I never told Yunus, but I found his weapons. I know he’s into something that he can’t talk about. I trust him enough to believe he’s on the good side of whatever he can’t tell me, or I wouldn’t be marrying him!”
Cruz remained silent. Yunus was not going to be happy. Her mind was racing. Deny. Deny. Deny.
Sude grabbed Cruz’s hands.
“Tell me what’s going on, Cruz, or I swear I’ll get one of Yunus’ weapons and shoot you!”
52
Abdul was on his third cup of coffee. It was a good thing he had a great memory. He’d reviewed the files of today’s invitees and moved on to current affairs in Turkey. Most of this didn’t surprise him. He hadn’t put much thought into it before today.
First, Iran’s agenda was obvious. When the JCPOA, the Iran Nuclear deal, loosened up Iran’s funds in 2015, the country quietly raced into the cryptocurrency market. You can’t take back what you cannot find. That was Abdul’s job. What they do with the currency was none of his business. What he didn’t realize until this morning, was the incredible amounts of cash money being transferred into Turkey. One classified report mentioned that the UAE and Saudi Arabia have a full Turkish agenda. The think tank has identified funds flowing from the Saudi Princes into specific addresses and bank accounts in Turkey.
He couldn’t believe the treasure of information sitting in this file—most of it classified. This is a dangerous game played by the US with Iran. And it has intensified since the withdrawal of the USA from the JCPOA agreement. Abdul was very familiar with this move. Within twenty-four hours, he was tasked with tripling his Buys. The pressure is on and has not let up in months. As much money as was safely possible was hidden in crypto funds. And the fund of choice was MAGE in Kuala Lumpur because they asked absolutely zero questions on the origin of the cas
h.
With the murder of Kashoggi, all eyes were on Turkey. Friend or foe, the West asked? Deliveries of weapons from Russia? Does this negate Turkey’s role in NATO? Turkey was walking the proverbial political tightrope. The consequences could be disastrous.
On the one hand, Abdul could see that the goal might be to annex Turkey, overthrow the existing regime, and gain access to Europe to further the murderous Jihad and violence of ISIS. On the other hand, the Saudis had a lot of money and power. Their vision for the Middle East was peaceful and wealth beyond the imagination, for the elite.
Abdul closed the file and went to make lunch. This background information was fascinating.
He sat down, ate his sandwich, and immediately returned to a folder marked: Looking to the Future. Turkey, the Jewel of the Middle East?
Turkey’s forecast for Iran:
If we promote and present the correct information, in the next few years, 50,000—100,000 Iranians could purchase housing from Turkey. In 2017 January, a law was enacted that would grant homeownership and citizenship for an investment of $1 million. 58 people from 19 countries received citizenship until September of 2018. After the reduction of that initial amount to $250,000 in September, a total of 1, 276 people from 63 countries received citizenship in 5.5 months—up until 2019, 289 of them were Iranians.
What do they expect to get? For some, it’s a safe haven, others, a place to put their money to work for them, and finally, many Iranians want to take advantage of the benefits of Turkish citizenship in the marketplace since sanctions obstruct the banking systems in their own country. You can put your money in Turkish banks and get citizenship within 2-3 months and then remove the funds and do whatever you want with it. It’s a win/win for Turkey as these clients tend to open import/export businesses and are not a drain on the system like the refugees from war-torn countries.
Abdul noticed a distinct absence of any information related to the cryptocurrency market. Why talk about a new way of laundering money when Turkey was playing this game itself?
Abdul went to the list of invitees for the evening.
He was interrupted by his cellphone.
“Cruz. What a nice surprise.”
“I really enjoyed catching up yesterday and wondered how you were doing.”
“I’ve got an excellent duplex near the Grand Bazaar.”
“Very nice. But I don’t recall any duplexes in that area. Lots of very nice apartments and low-rise buildings. Sandstone and precious marble. Beautiful.”
“Yes, the place I found is low-rise, but the top floor is like an outdoor park.”
“Park? What do you mean?”
“It’s two-story. The third floor is my reception and business area. The fourth is living space. But the living space is separated by entertaining quarters and an exit to the rooftop garden area. Private and really beautiful. I’m in and settled already.”
“That sounds like a movie set.”
“Cruz, look, I’m a bit nervous. Tonight is my first event. I’m hosting a cocktail party for some Turkish Government officials, and I could really use your moral support. What do you say? Join me?”
“Sure, I’d love to help you out. What time should I be there?” This could be the opportunity Yunus was looking for. Abdul gave her a time.
“I’ll drop the address into your cell phone. It’s easy to find.”
“Perfect.”
“And Cruz?”
“Yes, Abdul?”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. See you later.”
Cruz closed off her call with Abdul and immediately contacted Yunus.
“Look, I have some exciting news.” She went over the phone call and the invitation.
“What do you think?”
“It’s perfect. You should be able to find out precisely what Abdul’s job is and why he’s here. If this is his first event, his new boss will probably be there. Try to record, photograph anything you think might be interesting.”
“Will do.”
“Also, dig into his private life. Find out if he is a willing accomplice in hiding all this Iranian money or if they have something on him. It seems strange to be educated in Turkey and the US, and yet he works in Iran with its archaic philosophy. Do you know anything about his family?” The Turk’s mind was weighing different options for the evening’s events.
“I don’t recall him talking about them. We know about a cousin because Sude went to the wedding. I will go a little earlier and try to dig deeper. Maybe we can put Fatimah in Kuala Lumpur or Skye from our office onto this.”
“Good idea. I’ll ask Himanish. He might have more information because of his UN connection.”
She waited for Yunus to disconnect.
“Cruz. I will forward the file I’ve compiled with photos of the key government officials. Study it, memorize the faces and titles. And keep it encrypted.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have to tell you to be conservative and careful?”
“Sure, I get it. More than likely, this will be a predominately male affair, so I will dress modestly, so no one gets the wrong idea.”
“Also, try to get a copy of the guest list. And any photos or recordings would be excellent.”
“Yes, sure.”
“I have a feeling about this event. I don’t know why. There’ve been too many coincidences. And Cruz, take a decoy phone. Just in case they confiscate one. You can expect a body search when you enter the suite. Then again, if the Americans are hosting, they might overlook strict security.”
“Yunus. One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Talk to Sude. She knows you’re onto something, and you know more than you’re sharing. I refused to tell her, but I said I’d talk to you.”
Yunus sighed and disconnected the call.
53
It was turning out to be a perfect evening for entertaining. Abdul glanced around his patio. Gold rimmed crystal glasses, elegant silverware, byzantine table settings all symbolized a feeling of a sophisticated blend of the bygone Ottoman Empire with the Turkish culture. He always had great respect for his Turkish friends. Their faith, their pride in the history of their nation, the tenements of Islam that most lived. This would be his first assignment with his new employers, and he wanted everything to be perfect.
“Sir, you have an early arrival, Ms. Cruz.”
Abdul turned to see Cruz dressed in the latest European style. He liked the simple black sheath that covered her most massive tattoo. Even her understated makeup and chic hairstyle transformed the wild child that lurked beneath the surface into a sophisticated woman of the world.
“Wow! You look beautiful, Ms. Cruz.”
“Get those naughty thoughts out of your mind!”
“Ah, take pity on me. A bachelor, far away from home. No family here.”
Cruz laughed. There’s that sexy naughty smile that enthralled the University girls.
“You clean up well yourself.” Cruz admired the custom suit. Yunus had trained them all very well. No detail could go unnoticed. It might be the difference between life and death.
She smiled at the flirty repertoire. “Funny, Abdul. Have you forgotten you’re the wrong gender?”
“Hmm, that didn’t stop you that night at Club Sortie.”
“Can we change the subject, please.” Cruz smiled at the memory. He did have a point. But tonight, she was actually on the job even if Abdul wasn’t aware of her work.
“Your place is beautiful. I sense power and mystery, with a hint of romance. Well done for your first event.”
“Thanks, Cruz!”
“Are you blushing, Abdul?”
“Nah, but this is so important to me. If I can get this right, the company will eventually move me to the US. You know that’s my dream.”
“Yes, of course. I have an idea of how to help you make an impression.”
“Tell me.”
“I will be at the door. You can give me
your list of invitees. I know you have security who will check them, right?”
“Yes. Of course. It’s a fact of life, especially after what happened to Sude.” His eyes clouded over, and he looked away. Cruz moved past his words and continued.
“Here’s what I think. I will check the names against the list, get their ID’s and then bring them to present to you. It sets the tone that you have staff and are somebody important—too important to be waiting by the door.”
“Smart. I like that. Here’s who has confirmed attendance for this evening.” Cruz paid particular attention to the list handed to her. She skimmed the names quickly and recognized a couple of the names who were also on Yunus’ wedding list. These were the lucky ones. Survivors.
“Perfect.” But there was something strange about the list.
“Do we have something, like My name is?”
“No, these people know each other. They are all government employees who can never say no to free food and drink.”
“But several names are missing? Are they too busy to attend?”
“No. My associates suggested we break the event into two nights, so I have the opportunity to spend more time getting to know each one. This is the first group.” The candles were lit, and Turkish music played softly over hidden speakers.
“Question. All the guests are Muslim, right?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re serving alcohol?”
“This is what’s expected. I will feature an assortment of non-alcoholic drinks. But alcohol will be hidden and always available. Remember Cruz, I’m Iranian. I’m familiar with a strict Islamic culture. In Saudi Arabia, alcohol is banned. There are ways, but it’s risky if you’re caught. Yes, Turkey is more modern, but still, it’s a Muslim culture. There are always going to be hardliners. But it’s also secular, which means many of the Islamic rules are relaxed. You can get alcohol in most restaurants, certainly any that cater to tourists. But you would have to brown-bag it at a private Turkish Muslim function.”
“Thanks for inviting me, Abdul. It will take my mind off some of the challenges I have at work. Now let me get to work, and you prepare to mingle. By the way, is there a particular purpose for your event?”