Fishtown: A Jack Regan/Izzy Ichowitz Novel

by Neal Goldstein

  When he finally spoke his voice was barely above a whisper. “The detainees, Ari Nooris and Nochem Rabinowitz have agreed to provide our government with information that can lead to the apprehension of Ayman al-Zawanhiri. Zawanhiri took over the leadership of Al-Qaeda after we eliminated Osama bin Laden. We have reason to believe the information in their possession is authentic and accurate.”

  Jack considered the agent’s remarks and asked, “So what does this have to do with us?”

  “Mr. Regan,” Linkletter interjected, “Nooris and Rabinowitz will only provide this information in return for their release and absolute immunity.”

  “Are you telling us that the federal authorities are going to grant these killers immunity and let them just walk away?” Commissioner Regan asked.

  Mr. K looked annoyed by the question.

  “I know how upsetting this must appear to you, but there’s a great deal at stake here. Apprehending al-Zawanhiri can cripple Al-Qaeda and prevent future attacks on our soil and throughout the world and save thousands of lives. Besides, the grant of immunity only extends to crimes they committed in the United States, we have every intention of turning Nooris and Rabinowitz over to the Israelis upon their release,” Linkletter responded.

  Commissioner Regan could not disguise his disgust and said, “I think the people responsible for agreeing to this must have lost their minds.”

  The agent ignored him, turned to Jack and Izzy and said, “Do you understand what we just shared with you?”

  “Yes, but once again, what does that have to do with the two of us?” Jack asked.

  “The detainees do not trust the federal authorities in charge of their custody. Messers. Nooris and Rabinowitz will only agree to disclose the information to you and Detective Ichowitz, and only upon your assurance that you have reviewed the documentation and that it is in order,” Linkletter replied.

  Jack turned to Izzy in apparent disbelief of the explanation.

  “I realize you must consider this bizarre, especially you Detective in light of Nooris’ having assaulted you. We also find it puzzling, however, I assure you that our intelligence indicates this is the real deal. We are requesting that you accompany Mr. K. to Guantanamo Bay to obtain this information.”

  Ichowitz could sense his young friend was about to explode. “Gentlemen, can you give us a few minutes to confer?”

  “Certainly.”

  They went into the commissioner’s office. Jack’s father was still visibly upset. Ichowitz looked over at him and caught his eye before he turned to Jack, “So boychik, what do you think?”

  Jack paused as he thought over the U.S. Attorney’s explanation. “On the ride over I told my father this entire deal doesn’t make any sense. Nooris and Rabinowitz have been in Guantanamo Bay for about a month. Why did they wait that long before offering to give up this information? And why do they insist on us vouching for the deal they made with the feds?”

  “Trying to figure out what those two gonifs are up to is a waste of time. I agree they must have some angle we don’t understand. The question is do we want to play this out?” Ichowitz rubbed his chin as he thought over the proposition. “If they possess information that can result in the apprehension of the leader of Al-Qaeda can we really refuse?”

  After several seconds passed Jack responded, “I don’t know. But don’t forget Nooris is the guy who set up the attack on Independence Mall as a diversion for the Barnes heist. He claimed the carnage that resulted was just an accident, and he didn’t give a damn about the people who were killed or hurt. I don’t think you can believe anything that bastard has to say. And Shona Cohen our prime suspect in the murders of two, maybe three, of Norris’ former associates, is still out there.”

  “If you don’t want to go I’m OK with that. It’s your call.”

  “Do you really believe this is the only way they can verify the information to get this terrorist?”

  Ichowitz shrugged his shoulders.

  “Dad?”

  “I agree with you, Nooris is a psychopath. If it were up to me, both of them would still be in our custody pending trial on multiple murder charges. Can either of you come up with any reason why they would insist on the two of you?”

  “Maybe we’re looking at this from the wrong end,” Ichowitz replied.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe they want to get us to go to Cuba so we’re not here.”

  Jack thought over Izzy’s remark. “Why would they do that?”

  “Shona Cohen’s still on the loose.”

  “If you’re right about wanting to get us out of the way, there’s no…”

  Jack was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Rico Valdez. “Sorry to interrupt but our friend Mr. K is getting anxious.”

  “I’m afraid he’ll just have to wait until we decide how we’re going to handle this,” the commissioner replied. “Rico, what’s your take?”

  “Off the record?”

  They nodded.

  “I think this whole thing stinks. There’s no way I would trust anything Nooris has to say. I’m not buying that line of crap he’s peddling about not trusting the feds for a second.”

  “Do you think Nooris might want to get Izzy and my son out of town?”

  Valdez hesitated before answering, “Could be, but why? I mean, they haven’t had any contact with anyone outside of Gitmo.”

  “So what do we do?” Izzy asked.

  “My gut tells me there’s more to this than we can figure out, but as much as I hate to agree, crippling Al-Qaeda,” Jack paused, “I suppose it’s just too big an opportunity to pass on.”

  Izzy hesitated, “So we have no real choice?”

  They returned to the conference room and said they would go.

  “I knew the two of you would agree,” Keel responded.

  “So when do we leave for Guantanamo Bay?” Ichowitz asked.

  “Immediately.”

  Jack held up his hands and said, “Hold on, I’m getting married on Saturday. There’s no friggin way I’m leaving for Cuba.”

  “We have a plane waiting at the airport to transport us to Gitmo. We need to leave now,” Mr. K said as he got up to leave.

  “I don’t think you heard me. I’m getting married at noon on Saturday.”

  Mr. K looked at his watch and replied, “That’s 30 hours from now. We already wasted an hour. We’ll have you back in less than 24 hours if we leave now,” and started to walk out of the room.

  “I don’t think you understand. I’m not going to Guantanamo Bay, or anywhere until after my wedding.”

  The agent stopped, turned and smiled at Jack. “Gentlemen, perhaps you should explain to Mr. Regan the consequences of his refusal to cooperate.”

  “Why don’t you give us a few minutes with Mr. Regan and Detective Ichowitz and the commissioner,” Linkletter replied.

  Mr. K fixed his eyes on Jack for several seconds, before he turned and walked out of the room.

  “Gentlemen, I apologize for my colleague’s abrupt manner, al-Zawanhiri has been on the FBI’s most wanted terrorist list since the Twin Towers. He’s responsible for the planning of several terrorist attacks including the bombings of the U.S. embassies in Tanzania, Dar es Salaam, and Nairobi, Kenya.

  We thought we got him a few years back in a drone attack, but he managed to get away. Anyway, one of his subordinates has given us information that could result in his capture. Nooris and Rabinowitz claim they know the precise coordinates of his location. They’re willing to trade, but for reasons I’m sure you can understand, they do not trust Mr. K and his people.”

  “But my son is getting married on Saturday. You can’t expect him to drop everything because your prisoners claim they don’t trust this Mr. K. Surely this can keep for a couple days while we try to figure out what’s really going on.”

&nb
sp; “No, I’m sorry it cannot. But I believe we can have your son back in time for his wedding. Special Agent Valdez will accompany Mr. Regan and Detective Ichowitz and keep everyone on schedule.”

  Before his father could react Jack asked, “And what if I refuse?”

  Linkletter let out a deep breath and said, “I really would like to avoid discussing that. We’ll make sure you’re back in time for your wedding. I give you my word.”

  Jack looked over to his father.

  “It’s your call son.”

  Izzy nodded.

  He looked from Ichowitz to his father and back to the U.S. Attorney, nodded and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

  “Who are you calling?” Linkletter asked.

  “My fiancée.”

  “I’m afraid you can’t do that.”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed, “Try to stop me,” he said, and continued to make his call.

  Chapter 6

  A fully fueled Gulfstream 650 was waiting on the tarmac outside the last gate of Terminal F, where the private jets depart from the Philadelphia International Airport. A young man greeted them as they climbed the portable stairs to the hatch and ushered them into the rear cabin.

  As soon as they took their seats the plane taxied away from the terminal. They were immediately cleared for take-off and were airborne in less than five minutes. The pilot had the Gulfstream at cruising altitude over the Atlantic Ocean in remarkable time.

  “How fast are we going?” Regan asked.

  “The 650 travels at Mach 0.85. If conditions remain fair, we’ll be landing in Cuba in less than three hours.”

  After take-off, Mr. K, who Jack assumed was with the CIA, left the cabin. “What do you think he’s up to?” he asked Valdez.

  “He’s probably exchanging secret messages with one of his pals.”

  “What’s his problem anyway? I mean, neither Izzy nor I asked to be part of this.”

  “He’s a spook. They all act like that. Forgettaboutit.”

  “How are we going to handle Nooris and Rabinowitz?” Jack asked Ichowitz.

  “It’s not our play. I suppose Mr. K or one of his associates will explain the process when they’re ready. In the meantime, grab some sleep if you can,” Ichowitz smiled and said, “I guess you never thought you’d be flying to Cuba instead of spending your last few hours as a bachelor with your buddies at some strip club.” He reached across the aisle and patted Regan on the back.

  Over the objections of the U.S.Attorney Regan told Kate that he and Izzy had to travel to an undisclosed location to help confirm evidence that was vital to the country’s security. He assured her he would be back in time for their wedding. He tried to sound confident even though he seriously doubted that he could get to Cuba, conduct the interview and return in less than 30 hours. He didn’t want to consider the consequences if he failed. In that event, his mother would likely kill him, and Kate would never forgive him.

  Mr. K returned to the cabin and handed him a folder. “Here’s the documents the Justice Department drafted,” he said as he took his seat. He sat at the back of the cabin with a look of obvious disdain on his face. When Regan finished reviewing the folder the agent asked, “Are the documents satisfactory?”

  “Not really.”

  He waited.

  Jack continued, “The agreement provides absolute immunity for Norris and Rabinowitz upon confirmation of whatever information they provide. There’s no mention of extradition to Israel. As I read the agreement, Nooris and Rabinowitz can be released from custody and remain in the U.S. or go anywhere they choose for as long as they want to, if the Israelis for some reason don’t extradite them.”

  “You don’t need to concern yourself about it,” the CIA operative responded dismissively.

  “These two murderers staged an attack on the Independence Mall in July that resulted in multiple deaths and serious injuries to many more, and six weeks ago they tried to kill my friend, and you’re telling me I don’t need to be concerned? Who the hell do you think you are?”

  Mr. K smiled, “I’m the guy who does the things you don’t want to know about to keep our country safe. So let me worry about what the agreement provides.”

  Ichowitz could see that Jack was about to unhook his seat belt; he put a restraining hand on Jack’s shoulder and said to the CIA Agent, “I hope you know what you’re doing. If these guys get loose on our soil more people will die.”

  They arrived at Guantanamo Bay at 2 AM and were immediately ushered into the room in which the interrogation was to take place. It was completely barren except for a metal table and four chairs, all of which had been bolted to the floor. Despite the oppressive humidity that engulfed them the second they had exited the plane, and the absence of any evidence of air conditioning, the sterile room in which they had been placed felt cold and damp. Regan squinted from the illumination of the neon lights that bounced off the stark white walls. Two cameras had been hung from the ceiling one on each side of the table and chairs to provide frontal views of both the interviewers and the detainees. Regan and Ichowitz waited for the prisoners in silence.

  Nooris and Rabinowitz shuffled into the room escorted by three military police officers. They were handcuffed to each other. They wore bright yellow jump suits. The MPs briefly released their handcuffs and reattached both handcuffs and leg shackles to the anchors on the table and floor near the chairs in which they had been seated. No one uttered a word until the MPs left the room.

  Despite his present circumstances, Nooris retained his cool, unruffled demeanor. He acted as if he was in charge as he looked up at the cameras and smiled. “I assume everything we say is being recorded.”

  Regan nodded.

  “In that case,” Nooris continued, “Let me begin by thanking both of you for agreeing to meet with us. Detective, I trust there are no hard feelings,” he spoke with obvious sarcasm.

  Ichowitz’ eyes narrowed in response.

  Nooris smirked.

  Jack got right to the point, “I reviewed the documents the U.S. Attorney prepared. Both you and Mr. Rabinowitz have been granted full and absolute immunity as authorized by the Attorney General of the United States, for any and all crimes you committed in the United States, conditioned upon confirmation that the evidence you will provide is accurate and leads to the apprehension of Ayman al-Zawanhiri.”

  “It will,” Nooris replied.

  Regan waited for him to continue.

  “Mr. Regan does full and absolute immunity mean that neither the federal or state authorities can rearrest us or keep us in custody?”

  Regan nodded.

  “But the immunity does not extend to any crimes for which we can be lawfully charged by other countries?”

  “That’s right. The authority of the U.S. Attorney General does not bind other sovereign states.”

  Nooris smiled, raised his eyes directly at the camera and said, “I will tell you where you will find your target.”

  For the next forty minutes he provided the exact location at which al-Zawanhiri had been hiding for the past several years. According to Nooris, he was living in a Pakistani village near the Afghan border. He gave the exact coordinates.

  “How do you know this?” Regan asked.

  “My associate was one of the couriers he used to communicate with his operatives on a number of the attacks he had planned,” he responded nodding at Rabinowitz.

  “Did you share this information with your colleagues at the Mossad?”

  Nooris nodded.

  “Did they act on this intelligence?”

  He shook his head.

  Regan was shocked. “Are you saying that the Mossad had information concerning the whereabouts of al-Zawanhiri and sat on it?”

  He nodded again.

  “Why that’s unbelievable. I mean why would they do nothing?”

&nb
sp; Nooris gave him a phony smile, “You can’t really be that naïve. Israelis, even our intelligence agencies are run by political hacks, much like your Congress and the CIA. If my superiors had apprehended him on this information they would have had to give me the credit. Let’s say that those in charge did not want that to happen,” he paused seeing Regan’s reaction. “Do you think that only you Americans allow ego and political agendas to interfere?”

  Regan continued to look at him in disbelief.

  “Rabi, tell our friends what they will encounter when they attempt to apprehend the target,” Nooris directed his companion.

  If Nooris was cool, Rabinowitz was ice cold. In contrast to Nooris’ movie star looks, Rabinowitz was rather bland looking. Except for the ugly scar that ran down the right side of his face his features were unremarkable. He was completely contained, and showed absolutely no expression as he provided a detailed description of the compound, including the dimensions of the buildings, the number of guards and other personnel, including al-Zawanhiri’s wives and children, and the exact location in the main building in which they would most likely find him.

  “And you’re certain he’s still there?”

  “He never leaves; he’s surrounded by allies, the Taliban, even the ISI. He has nothing to fear.”

  “If your government intends to take any steps to capture him it should carefully consider the risk of notifying the Pakistanis. His allies are well connected. There’s little doubt that word would get to him long before your forces could be dispatched. If I were you I would just send a drone and kill him and everyone else in the compound,” Nooris added.

  “Is there anything else you need from us?” he asked.

  Ichowitz who sat quietly throughout the interrogation asked, “Can you tell us where we can find Shona Cohen?”

  Nooris shook his head. “Sadly, I cannot.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Ichowitz replied.

  “Believe it or not, but I suggest that you and your colleague beware, Shona is a dangerous and accomplished operative.”

  The interview had taken less than three hours. It was now 05:00. Jack’s wedding was one thousand miles and seven hours away.