by Paul Usiskin
No one is safe. His mind raced over patterns, scenarios, but that fucking little voice whined at him, ‘Lana, Yakub,’ over and over. Whatever mental switch he tried only reduced it to a tinnitus-like hum in his brain. He had to stop everything and find them. Going solo wasn’t an option. He needed help, but had to choose where from carefully. A communications black out was crucial. He ordered his minders to ditch their mobiles, and switch off the SUV’s radio and GPS and return to base and remain there until they heard from him. They dropped him at Sde Dov where he took cash from an ATM and a cab to the Dizengoff shopping mall. He went to the nearest cell phone franchise and bought the cheapest cell with cash. Walking away he made three calls, then ditched the phone. Ten minutes later he was in an hotel room waiting for a man who knew all about computer programming. He hadn’t seen Shimon Ben Shimon for a while. The voice outside the door was the same but when he let him in, Dov did a double take.
The rumpled socially inept Trotsky-gone-to-seed figure Dov expected was no more. First Aviel and now Shimon, maybe I need a make-over. The lean mean sharply dressed Ben Shimon shook Dov’s hand and sat upright and not in the sprawl the old Ben Shimon used to adopt. His hair and beard were short and trimmed, more white than the tangled black and gray Dov remembered. Shimon must have also gone to social skills classes, he didn’t scratch at his crotch once while Dov outlined what had happened and what he needed.
‘Errr, Dov? Errr you need to errr make your private affairs more errrr private.’ At least his peculiar speech patterns hadn’t changed, thought Dov, surprisingly comforted. Shimon said he owed Dov. He’d brought in Shimon before, he was a programming wizard with his own geek crew, and he’d been invaluable. He said, ‘ Err, I’m a forensic digital analyst these days. And thanks to you, I’ve got an exclusive IDF contract to work with errr Unit 8200.’
That rang a bell, what was it Amos had said, Deep Pockets? ‘Deep Pocket something, heard of it?’ Dov asked and explained about Brenner’s steganographic e-mails.
‘Errr DPI, Deep Packet Inspection, errr, yes I’ve written DPI programs for the Unit. Err steganography? I know about it. I can ask who’s running the inspection and mining at 8200 if you want? It’s all about programming isn’t it? And you need to errr speed things up, yes?’ He agreed to work with Dov again and promised that ‘My cyber clones’, Dov guessed he meant the geeks, ‘have been properly toilet trained’. They’d looked and smelled like street tramps, Dov recalled. ‘They use errr soap and shampoo and errr everything now,’ Shimon said proudly. He demanded an astronomical fee, to which Dov said, ‘You said you owe me.’ Shimon errred and Dov recited, ‘it’s all results driven. You come up with what I need and I’ll see.’
*
Three words kept reverberating in Lana’s head: Is Yakub OK? She understood instantly what was happening even though she couldn’t believe it. The new team had waited about twenty minutes before telling her that the flat was no longer safe and she and Yakub were being moved elsewhere. The wait should have rung bells; there’d been no cell call to them in that time; they were letting the team they replaced get far away from the apartment.
They escorted Lana and Yakub down to the basement garage and told them to get into the back of a white minivan with two of the YAMAM officers. She had no idea where they were being driven. Yakub kept asking and she couldn’t answer. Ten minutes later the minivan stopped. The driver and his colleague opened the rear doors and pulled Yakub out as the two with them in the back held her down. She screamed and screamed until a fifth individual holding a syringe got into the van and injected her and she passed out.
She didn’t know how long she was unconscious but when she was revived with a slap it was dark and when she was dragged outside she saw prison surroundings. They were going to lose her in the system, a simple way of hiding her. Women, she knew, Palestinian women, did not fare well in Israeli prisons.
When she asked where she was she was punched in the face. That followed a full body search, which she fought against with all the strength she could muster. She figured the men who’d brought her here looked and walked and talked like YAMAM officers so convincingly the prison staff accepted their designation of Lana as a high risk prisoner and placed her in solitary lock down. She knew they weren’t genuine YAMAM, and she screamed and shouted all the way and kept demanding to know if her son was OK. No punching and kicking by the prison guards silenced her. If she could know that Yakub was safe, and not experiencing anything as merciless, she’d be able to bear whatever they did to her more easily. All she could do was pray that Dov would find them both.
Yakub had never known fear before and he started shouting and crying when he was separated from his mother, until he too was sedated. When he woke up, he was in a big white windowless room with a neatly made up bed, a collection of toys and books on a table in one corner and a toilet with a sink and a shower in an enclosure in another. A woman came with a tray of hot food. When she put the tray down he ran at her and swept it to the floor, yelling, ‘I want my Mummy and my Aba.’ The woman said nothing, cleaned up the food and took it away as Yakub continued to yell. When she had opened the door he noticed two things. The world outside his room was made of white painted rock, and through the door came the sound and smell of the sea. He did not see the camera in the ceiling light. Until he felt tired and lay down on the bed. The light went out a few moments later, but a small red dot shone inside the light cover. He stared at it a long time before turning over, pretending to sleep, and in the end the game gave way to nervous exhaustion.
As the door to Yakub’s room closed, a police helicopter took off from Sde Dov heading up to Jerusalem with Dov, Shimon Ben Shimon and some of his cyber clones on board. The flight was slow, behind a snow storm that was moving south, blanketing the capital and leaving traffic chaos in its wake.
Dov raged. He waited for the little voice to start up. Had it been rage that propelled him to ram the Chevy into the Jordan? Damn right!
This was a whole other dimension. This was Lana and Yakub.
His new rage kept threatening to burst out of him. He saw no signs that this reduced his IQ, made him stupid, the opposite, like in the Storm going against Stein and Levin’s Chevy, everything seemed enhanced. He wouldn’t let the rage overtake him. It couldn’t be the way of it. He had to keep it stoked, channel it, but not allow anyone to see it. Tough call. Correction, said his little voice. Where’ve you been? Dov demanded. Waiting my friend, waiting. OK, OK, it isn’t about Lana and Yakub. This is about Yakub. My precious source of sanity. Absolutely. Thanks. And so? So who’s at the heart of this big picture? Hareven, but no facts. So get facts.
It was cold in the capital, rapidly turning magically white in what its citizens called Jerusalem snow, as if it was different to any other anywhere else. Typical Israeli parochialism, and that’s being polite, Dov thought as he brushed flakes off his hair and jacket and climbed the stairs to his Ministry office. Amos stood waiting for him.
He had proved himself superb at management and coordination. Dov had been serious about the Deputy Director promotion. For now he and Aviel would have to shoulder the big picture investigation, feeding Dov anything that might link to Lana and Yakub’s whereabouts, and he would reciprocate. Easy.
The more people he told, the more dangerous it would be for Lana and Yakub, yet he was sure he could trust Shimon Ben Shimon. He’d been right to instinctively shut everything down so that their abductors had no further knowledge about his thoughts and actions and that would continue after Shimon secured all his comms. Without their intelligence they, the men who worked for Hareven, might become sloppy and do something rash, and that would make it faster for them to be identified and Lana and Yakub to be found.
‘You can’t allow your paranoia to create a comms black out like that. We’ve been going crazy, calling YAMAM, getting patched through to chopper pilots, and all we were told was PID Director requests comms silence.’
‘Calm Amos, calm,’ Dov said sarcastically. He turned to Shimon. ‘Strip the headers. Trace the source.’ It took seconds before Amos burst out laughing, at Shimon’s perplexed face, and at Dov’s dead pan quote from Skyfall. Dov smiled. ‘It was nonsense in the film, but who knows? Fiction and reality? Anyway Shimon, would one of our interview suites be secure enough for you and your um cyber clones?’ Shimon’s ‘Err’ covered the film quote and his uncertainty about any secure place in the Ministry. In the suite one of his men poked at the control desk behind the one way glass, turned switches to shut down cameras and mics and turned the glass opaque, said something like ‘This is as secure as a sieve’.
Dov said, ‘I need a minute to brief Amos.’ Amos closed the door and listened as Dov told him why the comms blackout and asked about Dubi.
‘He’s OK, but the long term use of his right leg and arm is very iffy.’
‘Contact the Man in my name and tell him I want the best medical care for Dubi.’
Outside the suite he said, ‘Show Shimon everything he asks to see. Whoever’s hacking and tracking me couldn’t have gotten in to the Ministry’s total system.’
Shimon shook his head, ‘Can’t know til we’ve looked.’
‘That’ll make everyone here really comfortable. I’d better brief Hassid. Amos, you continue to manage the original operation.’
Amos’s face was a blank. Dov wasn’t fooled. ‘I’m going to have Aviel work with you. Yes, with, not you as his deputy. Operationally you’re experienced enough to supervise and he’s good in the field. Update me on where we are with the rest.’
Amos blinked, and breathed in.‘The briefing on the kidnap investigation and the aftermath of the Daoud shooting is ready to start. The snow’s playing havoc with road traffic. Two are with us via video link, Levitch in Haifa, and the Shin Bet guy who’s we don’t know where. The Ministers are here and someone from the PM’s office too, and Irit Sasson asked to be included.’
‘Very well. Delay the meeting until Shimon’s people have checked out all the links to the meeting. Aviel?’
‘Says he’s closer to pinning Eliyahu down, but still not quite there.’
‘Not quite there? I’ll talk to him. Where’re they putting Eliyahu overnight?’
‘The Russian compound.’
‘Serves him right. Thick damp walls, no heating, one light bulb, no sink.’
Irit was waiting for him in the corridor.
‘You all right?’ he asked.
‘That was quite a shock with Daoud.’
She shivered and he wanted to hug her. For a couple of seconds he couldn’t remember who Daoud was, and shook his head as if that might loosen his memory, like shaking a clock when it’s stopped ticking. It worked. He saw those eyes exploding. And shook his head again hoping to banish the image.
‘But I’m over the worst,’ she was saying. ‘Why’re you letting me in to this meeting?’
‘I want your assessment on the reactions to what they’re going to hear.’
‘And what’s that?’
He gave her a hard look. ‘If I told you, you’d be thinking along those lines and not on what you actually hear and see.’
‘I love surprises,’ she smiled.
‘I’m tired of them. Where’s Aviel?’ The hubbub from the room spilled into the corridor as Aviel arrived. He looked debilitated.
‘Hope you’re not looking like that with Eliyahu,’ said Dov, took him into another room and he repeated what he’d told Amos.
‘It’s the old Dov isn’t it? Off on a solo run, saving the world as we know it.’
‘Dump the sarcasm Aviel. I can’t do this alone. I need you and Amos fully integrated, me feeding you what I get and vice versa.’
‘And you’ll choose what to feed us, right? Dictators do this, get two people to do the same job and watch to see who wins.’
‘And US Presidents. It seems to work for them. There’ll be times when I won’t be able to update either of you. But you’re both good at what you do and you won’t need me to tell you.’
‘This is going to be crazy. Why can’t I join you right now?’
‘I need you holding down that meeting, with Amos’ help. I’ve got to see Hassid first.’
‘He won’t like this.’
‘He’s damned if he does and if he doesn’t,’ said Dov. ‘You’re taking too long with Eliyahu.’
‘Maybe the overnight in the Russian compound will change his mind.’
‘Don’t bet on it,’ said Dov.
Justice Minister Yosef Hassid, grand master of judicial grandiloquence, talked about the fate of the nation and how lonely it was at the top. When Dov didn’t react he asked, ‘These two individuals, key to the whole investigation you say, who exactly are they and why are they so key?’
‘Yosef, you won’t like this. This entire investigation has been compromised. Certainly all my communications are. I’ve brought in the best man I know for that, but it’ll mean a pause before we can start the briefing and you may find your own phones and devices don’t work for a short time, in the rest of the Ministry too. I’ve updated Amos and Aviel. They’ll manage the briefing and I have to go as soon as communications have been re-secured.’
He could see Hassid analyzing all of that and measuring the political fall out in the event of failure. Simple, Dov had thought earlier, and it was, even when he factored in the Man. Elections were gambles. Perception or how perception was shaped, influenced the end result. Would the Man halt the entire investigation when letting it reach its end phase was the only way he could stack the odds in his favor? Contributing to the operation’s success would give him the boost in perception that could tip the voters to him. ‘We faced a challenge to the government’s authority, to this country’s proud democracy, and I defeated the challengers and crushed them,’ or some other choice bombast the Man loved, and all thanks to the unsung hero, the head of PID, Dov ‘perfect instincts’ Chizzik. Have another medal. If and only if Dov won and rescued Lana and Yakub. Not so simple.
‘No Dov. It won’t do. One, you haven’t told me why these two people are so important. Two, let Weiss chair the meeting but you sit in. Those people in that room need to see you engaged, then you can go and find your so-called key individuals. Apologize at the appropriate juncture and say there’ve been dramatic developments that demand your personal involvement. I’ll back you up.’
You won’t, Dov knew. You’ll make it clear that this is all down to me, ‘Because from out of Zion will come the Torah, and the word of God from Jerusalem.’
A whole hour later they were seated, the snow falling unremittingly by the window, turning the sky graphite, smoothing out the jagged edges beneath. In the interim when Shimon confirmed that his office landline was now secured, Dov had called the YAMAM base in Tel Aviv and ordered them to get MAZAP to the safe house. He requested an urgent update on the team on duty at the safe house before the kidnap. And made it clear they had to be separated and under secure surveillance while they were being questioned.
After describing ‘a problem with communications security, which has been temporarily resolved,’ Dov told the participants, ‘we’ve had a breakthrough. We can’t decide which kind of criminal we’re dealing with, but in the TV broadcast voice message to me there was another message.’
Dov glanced at Irit to see if she was watching the faces. She was.
There was a strange silence in the room, not the dulled hush that characterized all sound after a heavy snowfall, but the silence of uneasy expectation.
The Public Security Minister started speaking, and Dov thankfully remembered his name, Hillel Telem, his memory seemed to have rebooted. ‘Cut this crap and tell us where they’re holdin’ those towel head kids so we can shut this down and get back to the fuckin’ election campaign.’
Before Dov could answer, Amos came in and whispered t
hat the Prime Minister’s senior aide had called for Dov. He went out with Amos, leaving Aviel to manage the meeting.
‘He told me to pass on to you the Prime Minister’s instruction: arrest Brenner and bring him to the Ministry for questioning.’
‘Absolutely no. Whoever’s behind Brenner knows we’ve already questioned him. If we arrest him they’ll know and react.’
‘This was from the PM direct.’
‘Neither of us knows that. It was from his aide. I want to hear it from the Man. This is politics Amos. Brenner’s one of the Man’s major political enemies; if he could arrange a show trial and execution for Brenner, he’d do it.’
‘You tell the Prime Minister.’
‘OK.’
And he got straight through to the Man, who did what he usually did, bullied.
‘This is my instruction Dov.’ he said, ‘Follow it. And don’t threaten me with you’ll quit the operation if I insist, as if you’re indispensable. You aren’t.’
‘OK,’ Dov said. ‘Please confirm this by email with your signature. I’ll have the arrest processed the minute I get it,’ and the Man ended the call. I could have said I wasn’t about to threaten to quit, rather I was going to enlighten you. Ah well, sometimes giving in, or sounding as if I had, was less of a hassle.
When he got back to the meeting, Aviel was saying, ‘I appreciate your anxiety Hillel, but I’m trying to put you fully in the picture. Neither our Minister nor I want to be criticized later for not adequately briefing you.’
Hassid assumed his Buddha mode.
Amos caught Dov’s eye and nodded downwards and Dov glanced at his iPad to see: Brenner’s back. He typed: How, where?
Amos: Hareven’s helicopter took him home.
Dov: Where from?
Amos: Off Maoz Yam...
Dov knew it as Hareven’s private retreat.
