by Dana Arama
“Even complicated missions need to be carried out.” I started the motorbike and merged into the traffic. I felt the need to remind him of something, so I added, “I spent years doing complicated missions for you.”
“If you exchange places with your brother and get to the head of this whole operation and stop him, that will be another complicated mission which may save many lives.” That was another way of him saying that if I failed this mission, not only my life would be over.
Murat Lenika,
New York City, November 15, 2015, dawn
As time went by, so did my hope that the boy had managed to pass on the warning to someone. We left the place we had been anchored when I opened the file and made our way to the huge harbor. The dials on the clock continued to move forward, because I hadn’t the willpower to freeze time. The coastal guards passed us by without regard, no loudspeaker requesting us to stop, no uniformed men demanding to come aboard. My mouth became drier and drier. I needed a line of cocaine. I’d traded in the prayers to Allah with a sequence of curses I didn’t dare speak out loud. Deep down in my heart, I knew it was my punishment for not looking out for the kid, who had been my guest. I’d failed, even though I had promised the divine powers above that I would save him in exchange for my life after that meeting with the Red Mafia.
The shoreline came into view, and the strip of lights and the high rises could be seen. I knew we were getting closer to New York. Then New Jersey would also be close, and, given a few minutes, I could find myself a number of hideouts. To wait out this whole ridiculous affair, until the crazy one committed suicide and the mission was over. If they didn’t stop him now, what were the chances of getting caught in this huge and busy port?
“Tell me,” I asked Yassin, “Do we have time to do a few lines?”
He looked at me patronizingly, as if I were a piece of shit on his expensive shoe, and answered, “Call your guys and ask them to wait with the guns next to gate number four in MetLife Stadium.”
“Are you aware that their phones may be bugged?” I wanted to try and keep them out of this mess. I wanted to say that all this wouldn’t have happened if he had just let me return the boy, but we both knew that wasn’t correct.
“I know you use disposable phones.” He smiled but his eyes held a warning look. “That’s the first thing you said to me, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, but…”
“Murat, Murat. Could it be you are trying to get out of this?” He smiled but gave me a piercing stare.
“Trying to get out of it? Why would I try to get out of it? I just hope they aren’t on to them… You know… because of the kidnapping of the boy.”
“It’ll be better for you if they haven’t been found out. Because if that happens, you will all die before you have a chance to become shahids.”
I took my phone and with shaking hands I dialed Alex. Without saying hello and in a hoarse voice, I said, “MetLife Stadium, gate four, nine o’ clock sharp.” Yassin, next to me, nodded his head in approval. I added, “You and the new Russian bring the German goods.” I hoped he hadn’t heard the defeat in my voice.
Alex said, “We’ll be there,” and then added after a moment, “I am glad to hear from you, boss.” Yassin grabbed the phone from my hand. Had Alex heard my distress? Had he understood that when I’d said ‘the new Russian’ I meant Dubroshin? And most importantly, would Dubroshin and his soldiers manage to save me?
The short time we had, had grown shorter. We entered the port in darkness and the weather became stormy again, but by the time we got off the ship, daylight was upon us. Two black vehicles were waiting for us. All of Yassin’s fighters entered the first vehicle and into the second went Yassin, his right-hand man, the one with the quiet voice, and me and the kid, who sat there apathetically. I couldn’t allow myself to feel sorry for him, because he was dead meat. But still, I asked, “If you don’t need him anymore, why don’t you set him free?”
Yassin looked at me with a look of amusement and disrespect. “What’s wrong? Do you want his virginal ass for yourself?”
“Come on, Yassin. You know me. I am the young, long-legged type.” I tried smiling. It had been years since I felt so guilty. “He is obsolete here for the rest of the mission. Just like walking around with a stinking corpse.”
“You know he is not obsolete, because I need him to get to his father, and besides that, what makes you think you know what’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know, but Thanksgiving is in about ten days’ time. It doesn’t seem right to walk around with a corpse like this for ten days.”
“I told you that on Thanksgiving, they will have something to be thankful for. I didn’t say it would happen in ten days’ time.”
“When will it happen?”
He gave me a mysterious look and answered, “Soon… Very soon.” I felt a slight shiver run down my spine.
***
The collection of the rifles happened quicker than I’d expected. As we got closer to the stadium, we stopped. The air inside the car was stuffy and suffocating. I asked to open the window slightly. Through the slit in the window, I felt the cold air from outside and could clearly see what was happening. The black van with Yassin’s soldiers drove up to the meeting point. Yassin ordered me to call Alex and tell him to leave the car with the key in the ignition. Once I’d done that, I was to tell Alex and whoever was with him that they should go by foot to the closest train station. I did as commanded with feeling of huge relief. At least they wouldn’t have to become shahids and die because of my stupid choices.
Within ten minutes, two vehicles approached us. One of them was the black van and the other a car I knew well. I had paid cash for it. Yassin asked, “Were there any problems?” and someone with a familiar accent said, “It went smoothly.”
“Go to the place where the snipers are waiting and give them the rifles. I want a quick distribution.”
“We are first going to do a surveillance check. They could have put a GPS device in one of the boxes and someone is onto us. When we are sure, we will continue to the drop off point.”
A fleeting smile crossed Yassin’s face as he answered, “Okay. We will stay put and see if you have a tail.” While he was talking, I was wondering how Dubroshin was going to save me and the kid. Would he kill Yassin? Dubroshin was a KGB assassin. He wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
We continued sitting. Yassin’s smile widened, “I love these mind games.” From a side panel in the door, he pulled out a bag containing red pills. He popped one of them into his mouth, without offering me any. He pulled out a gun from the same place and laid it on his knees. Still smiling he said, “You are aware that if they have a tail, I shoot you immediately?”
***
The next few minutes seemed like eternity. I was so tense I almost pissed myself. If Alex notified Dubroshin and if Dubroshin did what he knew how to do, I was as good as dead. I was so tense yet I couldn’t see anything out of the window, which had been closed again. When the person with the familiar accent tapped on the window, I jumped in alarm. The kid jumped too. Yassin giggled and opened the window slightly.
“The crates are clean. We’re continuing to our destination,” announced the familiar voice.
I almost breathed out in relief, but then a black car started driving towards us. I didn’t recognize it, but Dubroshin had his own ways of getting around. I heard the gun being cocked and I felt as if the bullet was already piercing my body. The need for drugs had been exchanged for the need to vomit. Despite all the feelings rushing around inside of me, I tried to maintain a poker face.
“If the car turns after them, at the traffic light, I’m shooting you in the knee. Then we will find out where it’s going.”
“Calm down,” I answered him. “A deal is a deal and it doesn’t include shooting me in the knees. If you don’t mind, I still need to find out if you have tran
sferred the money to the right place.”
Yassin laughed out loud, so loud that the vehicle rocked. “That’s what I like about you. You always remain calm and collected.” With a generous gesture, he let me place the call. I dialed and a feminine voice answered in Spanish. I said, “El Desconocido, por favor.” And after a moment I added, “It’s Murat speaking.” The line went dead and after a while it came alive again.
“My friend.” I heard the rolling, unmistakable accent. “You are wanted by very serious factors. I wasn’t sure I would hear from you again.”
“That won’t happen so fast,” I answered, hoping I was correct. “I need you to check if the transaction we were talking about took place.”
“I don’t need to check. I know it did. Even those serious factors requested knowledge about the transaction.” Then he added, “Be careful,” and hung up.
I hung up too. Who else was looking for me? Whoever it was couldn’t be worse than the one sitting before me now.
Yassin opened the window and ordered, “Throw out your cell phone.”
I held onto the phone another moment, and then, with a movement of acceptance of the fact that I was isolated, I threw the phone away into the shrubbery on the side of the road.
***
When I ran away from England, because of the contract the Red Mafia had put on my head, once I arrived in the United States the one thing I wanted most was to see Universal Studios in Hollywood. I’d grown up on the American thriller movies together with my friends, and on the romantic movies I saw by myself, far away from my father’s watchful, controlling eye. In my eyes, these movies were a magical secret of America. When I visited Hollywood, someone told me that more movies were filmed in New York than LA. Whoever said it meant TV series and was correct. When we drove into a street partially blocked with cameras, lighting and extras, I wasn’t surprised.
I summed up all my bad luck: I’d finalized a deal of weapons I stole from Germany, and I wasn’t going to see any money from that. I’d made a deal with an old school friend, who now wanted me to blow myself up as a shahid as part of some delusional suicide mission. I gave the boy, the little genius a chance to send a warning, and it hadn’t succeeded. And finally, I was in New York on a day they were filming, and I couldn’t stay to watch. The last detail really saddened me. I’d been hoping to escape amidst the chaos.
Yassin’s gun was once again in his hand and he said, “Don’t even think about doing something rash.”
“You must learn to relax,” I said and hoped that the look on my face was something approaching a smile. The devil was too tuned into what I was thinking.
A camera on a large boom followed us as the gate opened. We drove into the underground parking lot and more cameras awaited. As if on cue, Yassin’s soldiers got out of the vehicles, collected the crates and put them in the elevator. The camera continued filming. I felt as if I was on a weird acid trip. Was he going to film the attack?
The hotel had closed the lobby for Yassin. It was almost absurd, a crowd of clearly militant people carrying crates, and one wounded kid being helped by two of the fighters, entering into a special elevator which led to the top floor. And then gone, like a gust of wind, disappeared.
We walked into what seemed like a regular hotel suite but in fact looked more like a conference hall. The boy was pushed roughly into a small enclosure which could have been a closet or very small room and the doors were shut tight behind him. I hoped there was enough air for him to breathe and that he wouldn’t suffocate inside there. I thought that maybe they would film the scene of a war operations room, because that is what it looked like. Besides a big television screen on the wall, there was a long table with eight laptops on it, all connected to what looked like a modem of some sort. All the computers were silent and closed. A map of New York was loosely taped to the wall. I walked up closer and saw that the blue dots signified police stations in the area. Red dots were put on places that had the letter ‘H’. The green dots were spread randomly around, and I couldn’t see what they stood for.
“No check-in?” I asked and lifted the map a bit. Behind it were other maps of other cities around the United States.
“It had been booked ahead of time, for a film company. You are now an extra for an action movie… Maybe you should try and fit in.” Yassin turned on one of the computers and a picture of clocks showed on the screen, with the names of the different cities: Washington, Miami, Los Angeles, New York, Philadelphia, Atlanta, Boston, Chicago and San Francisco.
“Are you so tense that you didn’t see all the cameras around you?” asked the guy with the soft voice and all the soldiers laughed gaily.
I looked at him. He was totally serious. Were the camera crew also part of the mission? And if not, could I pass on a message through them? I then looked at Yassin and asked, “What is so special about this hotel?”
“Do you understand why I love him?” he asked the guy with the soft voice while hugging me, “He understands that behind every step of mine, I have a hidden intention. Come have a look.” He strode towards the big window without checking to see if I was following him. I followed him even though in my head a voice was screaming, ‘run, run away!’
“Look at the building opposite us.”
“The one that has 800 on it?”
“Exactly. That is where the Israeli consulate is,” the soft voice noted, just behind me.
“Are you really planning on hitting it?”
“There is a lot of security surrounding the Israeli consulates. Have you seen a street where they have their consulates? It is full of cameras.” Yassin’s body language showed how excited he was. His hand gestures, his head held up high, the eyes checking the cameras they had there. He had done a lot of precise preparational work. “If we try and get closer, we will be stopped beforehand.”
“With my special rifles…”
“Exactly,” he affirmed. “With the help of my people, we can situate ourselves a few roads away from there, in a good sniper position and in one shot, take them all.”
“Take who out?”
“First the security guards and then whoever else. The women, the children, the secretaries. The whole staff around the ambassador himself.”
“But I can’t see here. It is only a floor or two of a whole building.”
“The fourteenth floor, to be precise,” said the soft voice behind me.
“That is because you are not trained to see it,” Yassin said.
I put my forehead to the glass window as if to focus on what was happening in front of me. The cold of the glass pane cooled my hot forehead. I was sure I was coming down with some disease. “The attack is in New York,” I said, as if to myself. It relaxed me a bit to know that it was here, as if the knowledge gave me some sort of control over the situation. Maybe I felt more relaxed because my people were close by. I hadn’t given up on Dubroshin yet.
“The attack will be in a few cities simultaneously. In New York, Washington, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, Miami, Boston. The list is long. In each of these cities there will be snipers. In each of them and in a few planes on their way to Israel.”
The glass was no longer. My body went from shivering from cold to unbearably hot. “I am sure the windows are all bullet proof.”
“Not all bullets. Not special bullets…”
“The special bullets for the special rifles you supplied us will penetrate.” The soft voice didn’t sound so soft anymore.
“Exactly.” Yassin placed a hand on my shoulder. “And that makes you my main character in my movie, so that you can be a full partner in the grand scheme of things.”
“But what if they don’t penetrate the bulletproof windows?” I insisted, because I wanted to know if my life depended on the functioning of these bullets. I had no idea if someone had tampered with the bullets before passing them on to Yassin.
“That doesn
’t really matter. Do you understand? It is enough that after the first round of the sniper bullets, people will start crowding around the bodies and so will the security forces. Then the second round of killing will start!”
“With automatic rifles?”
He laughed, “No Murat. Not with automatic rifles.” He put his hand once again on my shoulder, as if to calm a child. “When the security forces all gather here, we will bring in the ambulances you have prepared for me.”
“I thought you needed them for your men if they were injured.”
He suddenly became very serious. “My men are prepared to die for the cause.”
“What will happen with all these ambulances?” I asked, the fear escalating inside me.
“I will blow them up, once they are in the middle of all the chaos with all the security men around. The damage to the United States will be dealt with surgical precision. It will be colossal! Every place there is an Israeli embassy, America will bleed like a slaughtered pig.”
Laura Ashton
Melissa, who was in charge of the Graham family business map, walked vigorously into my room. I placed my cell phone face down on the desk. I wanted to hide the message I had just received from Gideoni, relaying that Jonathan was not on the ship.
“What happened Melissa?” I walked up to her.
“I think I’m onto something interesting.” She pulled up a chair and sat down heavily. “According to the original list, there were addresses of the Israeli embassies and also numbers which looked like flight numbers. We surmised that the attacks will be against Israeli targets and that there is also a fear that planes will be hit too.”
“Yes, both options were viable.”
“So, I have good news and bad. About eight months ago, one of the sister companies of the Graham enterprise bought a plane cleaning company.”
“Cleaning planes?” I asked in alarm. “Which planes?” I hoped she would say ‘private planes’, and would mention ‘Gulf Stream’, but I was wrong.
