Spy Dance

by Allan Topol

  David mimicked the President. “We’re in a holding pattern for a few days about this Saudi business.” He looked disgusted. “Who knows where it’ll come out? I hope you had a more productive morning.”

  She had a satisfied look on her face. “Well, as a matter of fact, I did. I’ve got a little surprise for you. It’s in the bedroom.”

  What kind of nonsense was she up to? he wondered. “What are you talking about?”

  “Why don’t you stop talking and go look?”

  As soon as he entered the bedroom, he saw her, resting on the bed, weary from flying all night from Israel. She jumped up and threw her arms around him yelling, “Surprise. Surprise David.”

  David’s mouth shot open in astonishment. “Daphna, what are you doing here?”

  “Sagit arranged it all. You better ask her.”

  He turned to Sagit, standing in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Once I delivered the Zurich bank documents to Margaret, I knew you were vindicated and could resume a normal life. So I called the kibbutz and arranged for Daphna to fly over. I wanted to make it a surprise. I figured you two could spend some time together traveling around the United States now that this whole Saudi business with Khalid is over.”

  David’s face rapidly turned sour. “I hate to be a killjoy, but it’s not over.”

  Sagit didn’t want to believe what she just heard. Matter of factly, she responded, “Well, your part is over.”

  “Not the way I see it.”

  “No, David. No.”

  He gave her a tight smile, wanting to mollify her. Then he turned to Daphna. “Could we put off our U.S. tour for just a few days, and you and Sagit spend a little time visiting Washington sites?”

  “So he can fly off to Saudi Arabia,” Sagit said, her voice quivering with emotion, “and encourage Khalid to act now while the President’s paralyzed.”

  “That’s part of it.”

  Her body tensed. She knew what was coming next. “And the rest?”

  “I plan to settle my score with Nasser, the terrorist responsible for blowing up the bus Yael was on.” His words brought Daphna’s tired eyes to life with hatred. “Don’t forget, getting revenge with Nasser was the reason I got into this whole mess in the first place.”

  “And you’re going to do all that yourself?”

  “Khalid will give me some assistance,” David said hopefully.

  “You’re dreaming. He’d never risk starting his new regime that way. He has to live with those people.” Sagit had spent most of her Mossad career focused on the Arab world. She had no doubt that Khalid would be operating within limits, regardless of his friendship with David. “If you’re really serious about getting Nasser, it has to be the two of us, and we have to try to kidnap him. If we fail and we have to kill him, that’s one thing, but I’d like to try and bring him out alive to stand trial.”

  There was a knock on the door. Sagit looked up. “I didn’t know when you’d be back. I ordered lunch from room service. Let me go see about that, while you come up with a plan.”

  Over lunch, David laid it all out for Sagit and Daphna. At the end, he said, “All we’ll need from Khalid is to lend us a helicopter and a Saudi pilot for about three hours.”

  Sagit replied, “He’ll give us the helicopter. He’ll never give us the pilot. Forget it.”

  “Then call Moshe. He’ll give us a pilot.”

  Daphna nodded her agreement with David’s assessment, but Sagit knew the Mossad director much better than either of them. “Moshe would never approve any of this in a million years. I’m going with you strictly on my own because Yael once saved my life, and I owe her that much.” She gave a rueful smile. “Besides, I must be masochistic, but I’ve gotten used to doing these insane things with you.”

  Suddenly, Daphna spoke up. In a halting voice, she said, “I can fly a helicopter. Take me with you.”

  “That’s not even an option,” David said.

  Sagit had read Daphna’s air force file, and she knew what happened on her last helicopter mission over Northern Israel. “He’s right,” she said to Daphna. “You’re not going.”

  By now Daphna was thinking about her escape in St. Tropez, and she was feeling more courageous. “Yael was my mother. It’s my decision. Neither of you has the right to make it for me. You can’t tell me what to do.”

  David was furious. “I don’t believe you’re doing this.”

  “You just said that without a helicopter pilot you can’t get Nasser. Well, now you have one.”

  “I’m against it,” Sagit shot back. “I know what happened when—”

  “And it’s time I got back on the horse. Isn’t it?”

  “Not, it’s not. None of us may make it out of there alive.”

  “Yael was my mother,” the young woman said stubbornly. “I want to fly that helicopter.”

  “You really want to do this?” David asked.

  “It’s not a question of wanting. I must do it. I won’t be able to live with myself if I pass up a chance to avenge her death.”

  David looked at her with pride. She had her mother’s determination and stubbornness. There was no point arguing with her. Like Yael, she wouldn’t be denied. “Let her do it,” David said.

  “Not so fast,” Sagit said to him. “How exactly do you plan to get us into Saudi Arabia? Except for religious pilgrims and those who have business, nobody gets a visa. This may be the only country in the world that doesn’t permit tourists.”

  “I’ll call Khalid. He’ll arrange it.”

  “We’ll never get in with Israeli passports.”

  “We’ll use those United States Holt passports that got us into UAE. You used yours to go to Zurich, so it looks like Margaret Joyner didn’t cancel them.”

  “True, but what about our helicopter pilot?”

  Daphna reached into her purse that was resting on the floor. “I kept the Italian guy’s passport I used getting out of St. Tropez for a souvenir. If I get some makeup, hair coloring and men’s clothes, I’ll be okay.”

  “This is insane,” Sagit said.

  David replied, “No more insane than kidnapping Eichmann, rescuing hostages at Entebbe or bombing an Iraqi nuclear reactor. I’ll call Khalid and see how we can get visas.”

  When Khalid didn’t answer, David decided to call again in an hour. Meantime, he sat down with Sagit and Daphna, and they mapped out their plans in greater detail.

  * * *

  Khalid wasn’t answering his cell phone because he had turned it off as soon as Madame Blanc called and asked him to come immediately to suite 4800 at the Hyatt Regency Hotel in Riyadh. Khalid had been stunned by the call. He had no idea that she was coming to Saudi Arabia in person.

  When he knocked on the door of the suite, she was smoking a cigar. She offered him one, but he declined.

  “I’m very surprised to see you,” the Saudi said.

  “I decided to bring Greg Nielsen’s report in person. Also, I have news. I wanted you to hear it from me first.”

  Creases appeared on Khalid’s forehead. “What news? It’s not good, is it?”

  “I think it’s irrelevant.”

  “Okay, tell me.”

  “General Chambers died of a heart attack yesterday in Geneva.”

  Shocked, Khalid sat down on a sofa and put his head into his hands. When she saw his reaction, she was now very glad she had made the trip to Riyadh to tell Khalid in person. He had no idea she planned to remain here until the coup occurred and then for the indefinite future. On his own, he might get cold feet. She waited for the news about Chambers to sink in. Then she said, “This doesn’t affect anything between us. Everything can still go forward as we planned.”

  He was stunned by the cavalier way in which she had brushed aside the loss of a linchpin of their operation. “That’s not correct. We needed General Chambers. He was the one who was going to persuade President Waltham not to intervene on the side of the king. Without Chambers, the U.S. will interve
ne, and we’ll be crushed like bugs.”

  “The Americans won’t intervene,” she said confidently.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I have a second top American official working with me as well.”

  His forehead wrinkled with curiosity. “Who?”

  “You don’t need to know.”

  “I have to know, or I won’t proceed.” She relit her cigar and paused to puff on it. “Well?” he demanded.

  “Charles Frost, the American secretary of State.”

  Khalid was taken aback. This woman couldn’t be underestimated. She was hell bent to get what she wanted. “You’re kidding.”

  “Not at all. It doesn’t take much money to buy a university professor, you know. I did it when I began to worry about Chambers.”

  “And Frost will persuade President Waltham not to act?”

  “He damn well better. That’s why he’s being paid. I don’t think he’ll dare cross me.”

  He wanted to ask, Did General Chambers cross you? Is that why he’s dead? But he kept that thought to himself. Instead, he said, “Give me Nielsen’s report.”

  She tossed him a copy, and he immediately sat down on a sofa and began reading, nodding his head as he turned the pages. When he had finished the report and studied the maps at the back, he read it through a second time.

  “Now you see why I wanted Nielsen,” he told her.

  “I agree, it’s a good job.” The compliment was grudgingly given. She had no idea where David was now, and what he was doing. She worried about that.

  “I assume I can keep this copy.”

  “Correct.”

  “Now give me the codes to deactivate the automated systems.”

  She held out her empty hands, palms up. “I don’t have them.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “But I am. He’s your friend. He promised to fly here on the fourth and to give me the codes then.” Even talking about David made her angry. Victor had been right. She should have kept David under her control in Paris when she had him the last time, after he presented his report. “With everything that’s happened since, he’ll never do that.”

  Khalid sat back down on the couch. “So my forces will get blown apart by the defensive systems at the palace. Even if I win, I’ll take over a country that won’t produce oil for years.”

  I think you’re overreacting. Why don’t you use Nielsen’s report to modify your plan of attack?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve got control of the air force. Begin your attack under cover of darkness when the king’s asleep, with a massive bombing on the palace so devastating that the king won’t have a chance to activate those automated systems.”

  Shocked by her words, he jumped to his feet. “No,” he said emphatically. “I won’t do that. I’ll be vilified for all time.”

  She was determined to use any argument she could to persuade him to abandon his gut reaction. “I can’t believe you’re saying that. With all of the pain and suffering the House of Saud’s inflicted on your country, you want to wage a gentlemanly war against them. Get real, Khalid. All you’ll be remembered for is the freedom you’re bringing to your people. They’ll erect statutes in your honor in every town.”

  “I don’t know.”

  She felt he was weakening, bending her way. “Great patriots have always had to make hard choices,” she added.

  He began pacing back and forth across the room, thinking about her words all the while.

  “History rarely gives any leaders the kind of opportunity you have now,” she said, and then appealing to his vanity, she added, “Great leaders, and I would put you in that category, seize the day.”

  She held her voice, while he continued pacing and thinking.

  Finally, he said reluctantly, “I’ll do it.”

  “Good. For the foreseeable future,” she continued, “I intend to do all of my business out of this hotel. I’ve taken over this entire penthouse floor. They’ll set up fax machines and computers. I’ve got a local firm, Global Security, hiring bodyguards and drivers. Several of my staff are coming to join me after the shooting ends and everything settles down.”

  He looked alarmed.

  “Don’t worry, my official cover is that I’m considering building a large petrochemical plant. I had no trouble getting visas for me and my people. The economic minister is planning a dinner in my honor. Of course, they hate the fact that I’m a woman, but I represent money and jobs. They’ll look the other way. So much for principles. Meantime, I’ll learn a great deal that’ll help me hit the ground running to reshape the Saudi oil business once our coup occurs.”

  Khalid was taken aback. He had never envisioned such a broad-reaching role for her in the Saudi oil business. “But...,” he protested.

  She cut him off. “Working within OPEC, we should be able to increase prices sharply.”

  Khalid left the suite shaking his head and very troubled. If he succeeded, how long would he have to deal with this horrible woman? And how would he ever control her? As he climbed into his car, he turned his cell phone back on. Five minutes later, David called.

  “It’s your friend from the steam room.”

  “Are you absolutely insane?” Khalid said when David told him that he wanted to come to Saudi Arabia with two women.

  David chuckled. “That’s what they told me.”

  “And they were right.”

  “But you’re going to help arrange our visit because I have some codes that you need and because I was at the White House today. I know firsthand what’s happening in Washington.”

  “You could tell me all of that right now,” Khalid said anxiously.

  The adrenaline was surging in David’s body. He was back in his element, doling out information to achieve his purpose. “But I won’t. Only in person. So I’ll give you the three names on the passports we’ll be using and you fax the visas.”

  David had tried deftly to avoid talking about what he himself wanted to accomplish in Saudi Arabia. That fact hadn’t eluded Khalid, who knew that David wasn’t coming merely to turn over information. “And what else are you planning to do here?”

  “That I’ll tell you in person as well.”

  Khalid decided that any further discussion was pointless. He would never talk David out of coming, but it suddenly occurred to Khalid that after his recent conversation with Madame Blanc, that might not be all bad. David could be of help to him in dealing with Madame Blanc. An idea was developing in his mind.

  An hour later, Khalid called David back. “You’ll have visas by fax within an hour. Use window number eight at Passport Control at the airport on your arrival. That one’s been greased. When you arrive, rent a car, check into the Intercontinental Hotel and wait for my call.”

  * * *

  In suite 4800, Madame Blanc replayed in her mind her conversation with Khalid. She knew that he was surprised by what she had said about her extensive takeover of the Saudi oil business. She had anticipated his reaction. She wanted to break it to him early and give him time to get used to it. Oh, he’ll come around all right, she thought. Once his attack was launched, he’d be powerless to stop her. He’d be smart enough to realize that all she had to do was leak to the Saudi press and some key Saudi officials the extent of foreign support he’d received for his coup and he’d lose popular support in the country. If he didn’t realize it himself, she’d explain it to him. No, she could control Khalid. She wasn’t worried about him.

  She tapped her fingers on the desk, thinking some more. But there was someone worrying her, and that was Victor. No one could ever incriminate her in the death of General Chambers, but that Israeli kid from Haifa was a different matter. Victor could incriminate her in that kid’s death if he ever turned on her, and that was now a real risk. David had vanished since their last Paris meeting. Suppose he managed to get Victor back to Israel and charge him with the murder of that Israeli kid? If Victor turned on her to save hi
s own neck, which he could do because she knew that scheming lawyer never really liked her, she could be charged with conspiracy to commit murder. She couldn’t let that happen. No, she had to get rid of Victor to avoid that possibility, which would also have the advantage of eliminating the need to pay Victor his five-percent share of the Saudi oil profits. Yes, Victor definitely had to go. That conclusion pleased her for another reason. It was inexcusable how badly he had bungled Sagit’s visit to Zurich.

  She smiled sadistically, trying to decide how she would do it. Then she picked up the phone and called Javier, the head of a Basque terrorist group headquartered near Bilbao, which had agents in Paris, cruel hard men who would take on any task that would generate cash that could be used to buy arms and finance their war for independence against the Spanish government. There was no risk that an action executed by Javiar could ever be traced to her.

  After she made that call to Javiar, she felt much better. The last loose end had been tied up. Now she was in the clear.

  Chapter 18

  It was just past midnight when they landed in Riyadh. An hour after they checked into the hotel, the phone rang in David’s room.

  Khalid said, “There’s a little café up in the hills east of the city, run by a blind woman and her husband. We used to go there.”

  “I remember it.”

  “Meet me there in an hour.”

  The streets of the capital were deserted in the early morning hours, but David drove slowly, taking back routes to avoid being stopped by the police. As they drove through areas familiar to him, they saw scores of huge construction projects on which work had been suspended, a clear testimony to the fact that the money had run out. David, Sagit and Daphna shrugged off the effects of jet lag and lack of sleep as the energy pumped through their bodies. They had come to the end game. They would have plenty of time to rest and to sleep when this was over—if they survived.

  Khalid was waiting for them in the parking lot, and he hustled them through a back door of the building and up to the second floor, where the blind woman and her husband lived. A girl of about ten brought in cups of pungent Turkish coffee and departed quickly. In the meantime, Khalid turned on a radio to minimize the risk of being heard, even though the café downstairs was closed. The sounds of a wailing Arab melody filled the room.