Deadly Ties

by Aaron Ben-Shahar

  “I received the shipment. What I still do not have are the details of the tissue donor from Thessaloniki.”

  “What? I haven’t sent them to you? Hang on. Here. Got it. Sorry for not sending it. Please make a note.”

  Eleus then proceeded to say the following, “The identity of the person the tissue was taken from is Mehdi Mohammadi, Iranian passport number 1421830828, D.O.B., 22 October 1961.”

  Part Four

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The toughest men referred to the place as “the bunker.” Gentler folks called it “the villa.” Both terms were correct. It did embody opulence and grandeur, featuring the most luxurious meeting rooms, state-of-the-art software, a well-equipped kitchen, a gym, a Wi-Fi system, an electronics lab, underground parking, guestrooms, a library and an archive. It had it all.

  One snag though. It was a highly secure building. It was entirely underground.

  One of the first decisions Mehdi took immediately upon assuming the post of QF Commander was to build his unit its own separate facility, designated for special purposes. The building proved useful for strategic, secret meetings, brainstorming, intimate encounters and certain investigations best kept under wraps and far away.

  Back at QF headquarters in Tehran, the force did have its own large and well-equipped building, but Mehdi nevertheless preferred to have an exclusive, intimate installation, far from the hassle of Tehran, far from the people’s families and everyday commitments, a place featuring the utmost comfort as well as the utmost security, while being cut off from the outside world.

  Mehdi was aware of the conditions his organization was operating under. Security and intelligence organization worldwide had targeted QF, and these were highly formidable, well-funded forces with highly skilled operatives armed with the most cutting-edge electronics available.

  Mehdi had Hezbollah in mind: here was a large organization, situated in Lebanon, numbering thousands of combatants and receiving aid to the tune of one billion U.S. dollars each year from Iran’s Revolutionary Guard. Nevertheless, it was leaking like a sieve. However large and no matter how well-trained its personnel was, and despite its immense investments in intelligence and security, Mehdi knew that Hezbollah was completely exposed to its enemies, primarily Mossad and Israeli intelligence. That was the kind of exposure from which he wanted to spare his own organization the most.

  The villa’s location was carefully chosen by a team of experts, and Mehdi approved it in person. Some sixty miles south of Tehran was far enough to keep the hustle and bustle of the capital at bay and yet only an hour and a half’s drive away. Another advantage was afforded by the relative proximity of the rather cozy QOM airport, only about ten miles from the villa.

  The site for QF’s secret base used to be a hill, which in fact survived, but its core was dug out and Mehdi had the villa built in its place. The dominant part of this structure was the ceiling. It too was built after consultations with the best experts in order to conceal the building’s real purpose. The ceiling was made of a fifteen-inch thick layer of cement, over which lay nearly ten feet of earth, and over that, a good fifteen-inch layer of rocks.

  The experts gave Mehdi their personal assurance the ceiling would be bomb-proof and that the villa itself would be protected from imagery and listening devices. The villa remained hidden even from the treetop dwelling bee-eaters, as well as from the other species of ‘birds’ circling over Iran’s skies, constantly monitoring suspicious objects and sounds from below.

  The hill itself retained its original vegetation: wild nut and ancient pine trees, which afforded it the perfect cover from any prying eyes and ears. The only unperturbed view the hill had was to the road going eastward, diverging from the Tehran-Qom road. After a little less than half a mile, the road led to a large steel gated barrier next to a large stone structure with the sign ‘National Geological Institute. No Entry.’ The road stretched for a further one hundred yards until it disappeared into the villa.

  ***

  The data on the construction of the villa piled up on the desk of Mossad’s ‘Trident’ outfit chief the moment the construction works began. An elite unit within Israel’s Mossad, Trident was tasked with keeping tabs on Iran’s nuclear program, code-named ‘Emad Project.’ This meant that Trident was in charge of detecting Iran’s nuclear facilities, mapping them, following their development and finding new sites. Each nuclear facility was then passed on to a separate desk with the task to study the site from each and every angle and perspective for any eventuality.

  Trident pursued its target in numerous ways, from collecting information from open sources to ways even the wildest imagination could not fathom. As soon as the first report came in about major dirt works on a hill in the outskirts of Qom, Trident was in on it, as this triggered its alert. The outfit’s think tank’s working hypothesis was that the Iranians were planning to build another nuclear facility within the framework of Emad Project, akin to the facility they had already built near Fordow, on the other side of Qom.

  Their assumption was fortified once it became clear that the same Iranian construction company that had built the facility in Fordow was assigned this new project as well, so Trident formed a new desk to keep track on it. Customarily for intelligence personnel, they gave it a new code name. As the project was entirely underground, ‘The Mole’ seemed a fitting tag.

  When Trident’s Mole Desk received the Iranian construction company’s folder, complete with all the blueprints, they were happy to encounter an old, familiar name, known strictly by his Mossad code name. Since then, much later, in fact, this man was exposed by Revolutionary Guard security services and was executed by hanging. Thus, his real name may be divulged: Hossein Shirazi.

  ***

  The construction company that was awarded the villa project was highly reputable when it came to building sophisticated sites. It even had a quite high security clearance, along with a security officer on the payroll, whose job was to assist the Revolutionary Guard in maintaining secrecy about the company’s security-related projects. Its managers were screened and had to sign a confidentiality agreement. The entire staff, universally Iranian, was warned never to discuss its work, and, on occasion, were debriefed on security procedures and protocols.

  Hossein Shirazi was this construction company’s top foreman. A burly man with sun-burnt face, he had a long, thick mustache on both sides of his mouth that had turned grey, then white over the years. Shirazi was part of the select management team, the select few top executives who were part of each and every project the company was involved in. After the successful completion of the Fordow nuclear project, the company had sent him to Tokyo, as a bonus for a job well done, to an international seminar entitled ‘The implementation of innovative technology in constructing complex projects.’

  One free evening in Tokyo, Hossein entered a museum dedicated to the commemoration of the horrors inflicted by the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Awed and enthralled by these shocking images and terrible sights, he found himself standing next to a pale-faced man of average height who was regarding the same exhibits very sadly. This man shared his impressions and sense of horror at the artifacts. At some point, the two newly acquainted men decided to have dinner together in a nearby sushi joint, where, as the company was pleasant and Hossein had plenty of sake, which, as a devout Muslim, he was ignorant of alcohol’s influence, he found himself confiding in his friend, “Tony,” or, at least, that will be his name for the sake of this story, about his family, his work, and in general, about the project he had just finished in Fordow.

  During his remaining time in Tokyo, Hossein and Tony went to several restaurants together, strolled the city’s fine gardens and did not skip the treat of a typical Japanese sauna either. Tony told Hossein he was of German descent and a resident of Geneva, having married a local Swiss woman. He also told him he was in the international high-tech business and that he dedic
ated a great deal of his free time to volunteering at an anti-nuclear organization. “This is why I was so shocked back at the museum,” he confided in Hossein.

  Before they parted ways, Hossein told Tony that the following month, he would be vacationing in Istanbul, so the two arranged to meet again at a restaurant overlooking the Bosporus straits.

  ***

  Hossein was busy eating a juicy fish with his hands as he watched Tony and could not help exclaiming, “This is ‘The Sultan,’ one of Istanbul’s finest seafood restaurants, so why on earth would you order shish kebabs here, of all places?”

  “I’m sure the fish is excellent, but I strongly believe all the fish here are saturated with radioactive residue. You know how I feel about this subject,” came the reply from Tony.

  “Truth be told, I too have my own views about radioactive radiation and the danger it poses to mankind,” replied Hossein.

  “But you make a living off this radiation.”

  “Why would you say that?” Hossein replied, offended.

  “Didn’t you tell me you were involved in the construction of a nuclear facility?”

  “Yes, that’s right, but that’s my livelihood. Nevertheless, I do begin to mind it.”

  “Come visit me in Geneva, I have lots to show you and offer you.”

  Two weeks later, Hossein met Tony in the latter’s luxurious offices on Geneva’s rue de Marche.

  After a few meetings and lavish dinners, Hossein agreed to cooperate with Tony in the framework of the latter’s fight against nuclear arms. Hossein’s consent to assist was bolstered after his new friend told him that the fund he chaired had decided to award Hossein the sum of one hundred U.S. dollars, “in order to assist you in coping with the high cost-of-living in Iran,” as Tony put it.

  ***

  “I regret to disturb you during your vacation, Tony, but—”

  “Call me ‘Tony’ one more time – and I’m out of here, on my way back to my vacation.”

  “Very well, Koby,” ‘Trident’ chief smiled. “Actually, the name Koby does suit you better, but I wanted to put you back in the thick of it.”

  “Any news?”

  “Yee,” the head of the desk, sitting right next to the Trident chief, said. “Our friends back in Iran are about to embark on a new project, north of Qom, this time. We’re thinking they are constructing an auxiliary facility to the one in Fordow.”

  The Trident chief continued, “We have to get busy right away, just as we did back in Fordow, before any major progress in construction.”

  ***

  Tony arranged to meet with Hossein in one of the small tea houses in Tehran’s grand bazaar.

  Tony and Hossein were talking about their respective families, until he changed the subject of the conversation. “I know they are about to start working on a new underground facility north of Qom,” he told Hossein. “My organization needs your help.”

  “I already know what you’re talking about. I would love to help. At this point, I would like to take this opportunity and thank you for the generous financial assistance you’ve been giving me. It isn’t simple to arrange the marriage of one’s daughter in Tehran these days. Just think, I have two more daughters to wed...”

  “We would always be glad to help. I’d like you to know I have another one hundred thousand U.S. dollars for you right here in my bag.”

  “Thank you so much for your financial aid, but all the same, I would like you to know I am helping your organization out of conviction. I totally identify with your cause.”

  “I’m sure,” replied Tony. “We all admire you for all the assistance you’ve been giving us.

  “Please thank your friends for me,” Hossein replied, holding on to the bag Tony had handed him.

  ***

  The very night the cement pouring phase was completed, Hossein arrived at the construction site. Armed with his own electric drill, he pierced a hole nearly one quarter of an inch in diameter through the layer of cement and inserted a metal rod nearly a foot and a half long, with a tip comprising a tiny hidden microphone. The other end of this rod had a connector to which he attached a three-yard pipe.

  The following day, Shirazi showed the truck driver how to disperse the poured dirt not too tightly over the cement. He also had the driver alert to clogging the pipe’s mouth. Just to be sure, Shirazi noted for himself, in secret, the driver’s details and the truck’s license plate number.

  The rocks that were brought over to cover the dirt had been quarried from the nearby mountains. Acting as chief foreman, Shirazi asked his staff to leave a small space between the rocks, telling them he was considering adding a cement support beam. When they were done, he pulled the pipe so that it protruded from the layer of rocks, and he covered the remaining open space using a few leftover stones the workers had left nearby.

  The elongated pipe, containing the cable, was connected to ‘Charlie,’ which Hossein received from Tony in one of their meetings. Charlie was a rock. It was identical in color and texture to the other local rocks. It also weighed about the same. The only thing that set it apart was its name, uttered in admiration by those in the know, which, in this instance, were the scientists at Mossad’s electronics lab. They had built this cleverly sophisticated transmission device that specialized in hooking up with satellites over three hundred miles above ground. The transmitter was hidden within the cavity of a stone that had been brought specially from the mountains of Qom. When the device was inaugurated, they decided to name it ‘Charlie’ in honor of a friend who had died on duty.

  Hossein placed Charlie among the thousands of other rocks at the site. No one would have ever distinguished between it and the other rocks. Its tiny antenna all but disappeared within the roots of the nut tree that grew nearby. Charlie maintained radio silence, suspended until its activation code would be sent from the sky.

  ***

  The meeting took place at the Trident chief’s office. In attendance were also the desk head and three of his senior staff.

  “So, either our friends over in Qom are fooling us, or were fooling ourselves,” the head of the desk began.

  “What’s bothering you?” the Trident chief asked.

  “Something about the Qom project just doesn’t add up.”

  “Care to specify?”

  “We’re treating the Qom project as a nuclear site, but I have a nagging suspicion we are misdiagnosing, that this might be something else.”

  “And what makes you think that?”

  “We’re working under the assumption it’s an auxiliary serving in parallel to the facility in Fordow, but the findings we’ve collected thus far do not seem to support this claim.”

  The head of the desk proceeded to specify, “Look, first of all:

  The facility in Fordow has six entrances and exits leading to and from the underground facility, but our facility only has one entrance and one exit.

  Three of all the entrances at Fordow are specially to allow trucks in, whereas the Qom facility features an entrance exclusively for regular vehicles.

  The Qom facility does not have an emergency exit – which is simply impossible for a nuclear site.

  The entrance to Fordow features spacious parking, including employee buses, whereas the Qom site doesn’t. This suggests the latter is not designated for a large crowd.

  The Qom facility is not connected to high voltage power lines. This, too, is not possible regarding a nuclear site.

  The security measures at Fordow include high, double wire fences, minefields, watchtowers and so on. Our site at Qom also features tight security, but they are more localized, not tailored to a major site.

  The site at Qom is too close to the main road so it constitutes both a safety and an intelligence risk. This is not like the Iranians.”

  “I’m sold. So, what do you suggest?”


  “I am sure the Qom facility is going to be the scene of something big but not part of the nuclear program. Therefore, I suggest we turn over the responsibility for this site to the Ops Branch, so they use their own means to get to the bottom of what’s going on out there and take full charge of the activity there.”

  ***

  The meeting between the Mossad branch chiefs was short. The head of Ops Branch assumed, as authorized by the head of Mossad, responsibility for the site near Qom and received all the relevant intelligence, including Charlie.

  Only a few days passed until the head of Ops made two important decisions. The first was to position a static ‘Janus’ type reconnaissance satellite over the Qom site for a limited period of three months. The second was to augment the technical intelligence with human intelligence, also known as HUMINT.

  Janus was built in Israel, according to specifications the relevant space industries received from a collaborative effort of Israel’s array of intelligence agencies. Smart and modular, it could easily be configured for various specific designations.

  In accordance with Mossad’s request, the specific Janus satellite to be positioned over Qom was fitted with a special algorithm capable of analyzing in real-time the meaning of vehicular traffic above ground. The data collected was immediately relayed and rephrased in the form of operational commands.

  This algorithm was designed to trigger Charlie, buried a little over three hundred miles below the satellite, whenever the suspicion arose, based on the traffic below, that something out of the ordinary was taking place at the Qom facility. The controlled activation of Charlie was designed to limit its exposure to the Iranians’ means of detection and to minimize its activity as much as possible.

  As soon as all the necessary modifications were made, the satellite was launched and positioned at its predesignated coordinates, some three hundred miles above target, all-seeing and unseen.

  The Janus-type satellite continuously related images of what took place below. The view it kept transmitting to the control facility was fantastic: the sacred city of Qom, Kavir National Park, Namak, a blue colored salt lake, the mountain range that dominated the scenery and numerous objects on the ground, viewed directly from above at a resolution of nearly twenty inches.