Deadly Ties

by Aaron Ben-Shahar

  The observation staff at the control center back in Tel Aviv kept a 24-hour surveillance of the traffic along the Tehran-Qom road, placing particular emphasis on the access road from the main highway to the facility. Apart from the vehicles, they also saw numerous animals, some unfamiliar, as they crossed the road. An amateur naturalist on duty swore he saw a real live tiger crossing the road near the facility one night.

  The satellite produced fascinating imagery, but the moment for Charlie to shine was still long in coming.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The flight from the Baghdad airport to the Tehran airport took about forty minutes. The Boeing aircraft taxied to the point where the passengers got off to be taken to customs and checkpoint by bus. Many of them were Iraqi Shiite pilgrims on their way to the holy places this sect of Islam reveres in Iran.

  Standing in line at the control point were Mahmoud and Fatimah, his wife. Tall and solid, with thick black hair and one long eyebrow across his face, he handed both their passports to the officer as Fatimah stood right behind. The clerk gave him Fatimah’s passport and asked them to pass through one by one, separately.

  “What’s the purpose of your visit in Iran?”

  “We married about a month ago. My wife and I vowed to consecrate our marriage at the great mosque of Qom,” replied Mahmoud.

  “And how long do you plan on staying in Iran?”

  “We intend to spend two days in Tehran and five days in Qom.”

  The checkpoint officer gave Mahmoud a piercing glance, took notice of the black beard that graced his face, as befitted a devout Muslim, and was equally impressed with the black hijab that covered the entire face of Mahmoud’s wife. And so, he stamped their passports.

  The following two days, the two spent in Tehran, where they visited the grand bazaars and strolled the city’s broad avenues. After the two days in Tehran, they hired a car and drove about sixty miles south to the holy city of Qom, where they stayed at Hotel El Zahra in the center of town. The couple consecrated their marriage at Jamkaran Mosque, one of the world’s loveliest mosques and took in the atmosphere of the Shiite Muslims’ most sacred city.

  One morning, they travelled farther south to Fordow, now world-renowned since Iran’s previous president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, had announced to the world that Iran had built a large underground uranium-enrichment facility there.

  Early into their excursion, the couple were stopped by a police car. When they told the officers they were headed to Fordow, they were instructed that foreigners have no business being there, and it was suggested they turn back. Mahmoud and Fatimah heeded their advice and back they went to Qom, where they continued strolling about and marveling at the city’s numerous shops catering to the many thousands of pilgrims seeking all kinds of Islamic artifacts and souvenirs.

  The following morning, they asked the hotel receptionist for advice how to get to Kavir National Park, one of Iran’s finest, with Namak Lake, which, apart from being a truly magnificent natural treasure, also constitutes one of Iran’s major freshwater reservoirs. The hotel clerk suggested Mahmoud and Fatimah take Route No. 7, travel north and after about six miles turn east and follow the signs to the access road leading to the park.

  And so the two took to the highway, passed the turn to the park and continued onwards for about three more miles, where they exited the main road and took a lane leading eastwards, at the entrance of which was a sign, ‘National Geological Institute. No Entry.’ They ignored the sign and continued all the way to the stone structure with the sign ‘National Geological Institute.’ Next to it, right by the steel barrier were men in black uniforms carrying Kalashnikovs.

  “What are you doing here? Didn’t you see the sign?” The guards darted toward them.

  Mahmoud and Fatimah, embarrassed and apologetic, replied “We must have missed it; we want to get to Kavir National Park.”

  “Hold still!” One of the guards shouted at them, drew his gun and aimed it at them, while another guard went over to the nearby structure and returned a few minutes later.

  “You’re in luck,” said the guard. “We could have arrested you for a blatant violation of security and ignoring the signs, but we decided to let it slide. You can go. Go on, get, before we change our mind. If it’s the park you want, go back to Qom, and after about three miles on Route No. 7, turn left. Now, keep watching for the signs! Now scram!”

  Grateful, they turned their car round and hurried away. They did take Route No. 7, and indeed took the left turn after about three miles according to the signs. They reached the great lake after about twenty minutes.

  On a remote corner of Namak Lake, Fatimah removed her hijab for a brief moment, letting the cool breeze stroke her lovely face. Her green eyes shone as she smiled at Mahmoud right before she pulled out a satellite phone from her bosom and punched one code word ‘negative.’

  Then, she removed the batteries from the device and handed them over to Mahmoud, who in turn threw each battery a yard apart and threw the device about three miles farther still, into a thundering waterfall that spilled into the lake.

  Mahmoud was now relieved, as well. They were through with the most dangerous part of their mission. If he could, he would have kissed Fatimah’s lovely full lips, but the security briefing they had received prior to their mission outweighed his passion. “Never do anything foolish you might live to regret,” their instructions cautioned, and so they obeyed. ‘Someday,’ he told himself.

  “Our people have ruled out the possibility this site could be nuclear,” the Ops team summed up the situation at the new Qom site. “Nevertheless, it’s still interesting to see what it is the Iranians are planning there.”

  ***

  Mehdi convened the high command for a special meeting in the villa’s lavish conference room. At the same time, the Mossad control center began to literally flash and buzz, with various alert lights turning on and off in an array of colors, as computers came to life and auto-keyboards began typing. The controller on duty called the squad commander, who in turn called the head of the team, who called the head of the desk, who finally called the Trident chief.

  The villa’s parking lot suddenly got crowded with an unusual number of Mercedes and utility vehicles. The Janus-type satellite calculated that the day had come and dutifully woke Charlie, issuing the command to begin working.

  ***

  QF’s twelve senior commanders were seated around the long desk at the conference hall. Alert, they gazed at their much-admired chief in awe but also with no little fear.

  “We are gathered here today,” Mehdi began his address to the high command, “to greenlight operation ‘Queen of Vengeance,’ on which we have been working for several months now. This is the most complex and audacious mission we have ever embarked on. It is designed to deal a decisive blow to the Zionist entity once and for all and teach Mossad a lesson they will never forget.”

  He stood upright, his eyes burning bright as he spoke with the intensity and vigor of a conductor rallying his orchestra.

  “The purpose of this operation is to take revenge on the Jews, on the Zionists and on Mossad for being so cruel, for hunting down our brave fighters and for hurting innocent people, killing them and setting their property on fire. The plan I would like to take you through is to hit Israel’s embassy in Lagos, Nigeria, and kill as many Israelis as possible. Israel has turned this embassy into the hub of its activity in Africa. They are using their embassy as the base of operations designed to strike everywhere there’s friendship towards Iran across Africa. To that end, the Israelis are instigating internal revolutions and are encouraging opposition leaders. They have resorted to any means, including bribes of key officials, even leaders, and physically harming their opponents.”

  Mehdi continued, “The Zionists are focusing special attention on controlling the Bab-el-Mandeb Straits. They secured an alliance with Saudi Arabia, the self-procla
imed “protector of the holy sites,” in the framework of which the Saudis are supposed to secure the eastern part of the straits whereas the Zionists, the western part. Now, control of the straits means endangering Iran’s oil exports and ensuring Israel’s free passage, all the way to the position they’ve already occupied in the Gulf of Aqaba. To that end, the Saudis have intervened in the civil war in Yemen, and Israel, for its part, has bolstered its own embassy in Lagos, where Mossad has a major station, in charge of conducting the war against the Islamic State across Africa.

  “We shall turn the straits, also known as ‘the gate of tears,’ into the Zionists’ sea of tears. The waters of the straits will be saltier that the Dead Sea. The blood we shall exact from the infidels will indeed justify calling it the ‘Red Sea.’ We are determined to put an end to all these interventions. Operation ‘Queen of Vengeance’ will do just that.”

  Mehdi concluded his message and looked at the senior commanders’ adoring and humbled eyes, fully aware of what ‘lonely at the top’ means.

  ***

  Charlie recorded Mehdi’s entire speech and had it relayed by the Janus-type satellite, complete with simultaneous translation from Farsi to Hebrew, to the computer screens at Mossad HQ. The original text in Farsi was catalogued and archived straight away. The staff at HQ followed the speech very closely. When the recording concluded, everyone present were surprised to read the following message on the screen: “Good luck! Charlie and Janus”

  Even during the recording, the Mossad chief was called to the Ops room. As soon as it ended, he requested to be put through to the prime minister over the secure line. When the prime minister picked up, he okayed the hastily requested, urgent meeting.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The prime minister was sitting at the head of the table, with the Minister of Defense to his right and the science minister to his left. The chief of the IDF general staff was sitting next to the defense minister, and next to him sat the intelligence affairs and strategy advisor. The head of the Mossad was sitting left of the science minister, and next to him sat the head of the General Security Service (GSS). This was Israel’s top echelon.

  The meeting was taking place in room X, whose exact location, four floors below the basement of the Mossad building on a hill north of Tel Aviv, was known to few. There was a small antechamber right at the front, accessible only by an elevator, whose entry code was known only to the head of the GSS security department, who had led the group into room “x” earlier.

  Prior to their entry into the room, each of the participants, without exception, was asked to leave his cellphone with the head of the GSS security department. The cellphones were disconnected from their batteries and placed into the safe at the lobby.

  The door leading from the antechamber to room “x” featured hidden magnetometers that monitored the participants without their knowledge. The room itself comprised a unique electronic system constructed by a select team of electronics engineers from the GSS operations department. This system foiled any means of gleaning information on the goings on in room “x” through wiretapping, taking images or any type of surveillance.

  The participants were all seated when the prime minister began. His message, like what everyone else were saying, was not recorded, but rather taken down by the GSS security department in his own hand. He later filed the protocol in a specially dedicated safe whose combination was known only to him. A backup code was kept by one of the members of Israel’s security community, who was chosen jointly by the head of the Mossad and the head of the GSS.

  “Gentlemen,” the prime minister began, “we are gathered here today to discuss one issue and one issue only, namely – the removal of Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps commander. I now call upon the head of the Mossad to provide us with a short briefing.”

  “We’ve had IRGC Commander Mehdi Mohammadi in our sights for many years now,” the head of Mossad began his review. Mossad began compiling a file on him back when he was a junior university student in Thessaloniki, where he was also an operative for Iranian intelligence. He rose in the ranks all the way to the top thanks to his unique skills, uncanny ferocity, and extraordinary valor.

  “At some point, Mehdi caught the attention of the CIA, who soon discovered it was he who had shot dead point blank one of their top agents in Europe. MI 6 also initiated a file on him, a little belatedly, after they found out it was Mehdi who was behind the elimination of one of their own, whose body surfaced in the Bosporus.

  “Our own security services have a bitter score to settle with Mehdi. He had one of our best field commanders, whose name is still a secret, eliminated. On top of that, he has masterminded numerous operations against Israeli targets worldwide.

  “Today’s meeting was called urgently when we received accurate intelligence according to which he is planning a major terrorist attack on one of our important embassies in Africa.

  “Our joint efforts with the GSS Operations Department led to the conclusion it is high time we rid the world of this mass murderer.”

  “Now that we have heard from the Mossad,” concluded the prime minister, “the concise message of the head of Mossad brings this matter before your approval. I would like your vote on the removal of the commander of Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps by show of hands.”

  Everyone present raised his hand.

  The minister of science approved the elimination of his own father by raising his hand in agreement.

  Part Five

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It was Friday afternoon. Bonnie told his driver he could go and asked him to return the following Sunday at five am to make it back to the government meeting in time, beating the morning rush hour, as Sunday is a regular business day in Israel.

  A week earlier, the prime minister and the head of Israel’s General Security Service met to discuss the inquiry into the matter concerning the Minister of Science. The head of the GSS told the prime minister that he still believed the minister’s presence in government meetings was ill-advised, but given the political constraints the prime minister had to deal with, the final decision was, after all, the prime minister’s, as was noted in the report by the head of the GSS.

  After he saw his driver off, Bonnie called his sister, thanked her for the dinner invitation and apologized for not being able to make it due to an urgent matter that had come up.

  ‘I need some time to myself,’ he thought, ‘some quality me-time’.

  After a brief mid-day nap, he poured himself a cup of coffee and continued to sip while lounging in his armchair on the veranda. ‘The front grass lawn needs pruning; it’s been a while since I last tended to it. All those yellow patches in the center and the edges growing wild. It won’t do. Avram would never have let it get to such a state.’

  Bonnie awoke from his musings in a second. Ever since the ‘revelation,’ he had ceased referring to Avram as ‘Dad.’ He suddenly realized that in his mind, the word ‘Avram’ had replaced the word ‘Dad.’ ‘Well, at least the trees Avram cultivated round the grass seem fine. The tall avocado trees seem fine. Full bloom. Should guarantee fine pickings after the wet winter we’ve had. Ah, the scent of those two lemon trees. Even the bees and other insects like them,’ Bonnie paused to take in the buzzing orgy of nectar and honey.

  The flowerbeds that served to demarcate the grass from the fruit trees were Avram’s domain. He had had a green thumb; a true lover of earth and nature, his love was always requited. Bonnie began longing for the view of Avram’s bent back pushing the old grass mower over to the tree stump he had cut each year. How he had loved to adhere to plant rotation each season, so the house had had fragrant, colorful flowers all year long.

  ‘Dad or no dad, he was a good man. He loved his family. Perhaps he loved me just a bit more.’

  The back yard was the domain of Bonnie’s mother, Esther. ‘She loved animals so much, she kept a small henhouse
and a goat for milk.’ He continued his stroll down memory lane. ‘The red-tailed rooster wasn’t the most dominant creature there, though it sure woke the entire household up at the crack of dawn, but rather the hen, Kat, as I had come to call it.’ The ever-busy hen with the languishing comb gave him his daily treat each morning. ‘The morning egg always waited for me at the same corner. I would always thank Kat and hand the egg over to Mom, who proceeded to make me my favorite breakfast in the whole wide world.’

  ‘But then,’ he recalled, ‘one day, the usual egg wasn’t there, and Kat wouldn’t look me in the eye. When I reached the usual corner, it was, lo and behold, empty.’

  “Mom! No egg this morning!”

  “Don’t feel down, son,” she had calmed him down consolingly, “Kat deserves a day off two, you know. Talk to Dad, he knows all about workers’ rights.”

  The following morning, Bonnie ran over to the henhouse, fully anticipating finding an egg, but he was equally disappointed. ‘Nada,’ as his grandfather would have taught him to say. This repeated itself each morning, until, on the eleventh straight day, not only was there no egg in sight, the chicken had disappeared as well.

  “I will get you a new one, I promise.” But this wasn’t enough to console Bonnie the child.

  Three more weeks went by, and Bonnie went to the henhouse to feed the chickens. ‘That sight drove me to tears. Even now, it’s still exciting. There was Kat, proudly stepping out of the bushes, her comb held high, leading her eleven newly hatched chicks.’

  It was getting colder now, as it was nearly evening. ‘Better get myself a blanket.’ He went up the hill through the village main street, which was in fact the only street. On his way, not far from his own house, stood his old preschool. ‘That must have been Avram’s day. He was the only dad who came during the holidays and so on, as all the other dads were working in the fields or cowsheds and chicken pens. The other children had their grandmas and grandpas come, since the parents were up to their necks in the grueling agricultural chores.’