Spy Dance

by Allan Topol

  Shortly after the eighth message, General McCallister came into the waiting room. “Sorry about the confusion on your landing,” he said.

  “Don’t worry, Mac. Your guys were playing it according to the book.”

  General McCallister was tall and thin, with wire-framed glasses. He had a kindly bookish face that made him look more like a university professor than a high-ranking military officer. David introduced Daphna to him, and the General said, “I wanted to get over here sooner, but things are quite tense after the attack on the Saudi palace this morning, as you might imagine. We’ve been on high alert awaiting orders from Washington to intervene on the side of the king, but so far they’ve told us ‘sit tight.’ None of us knows what the hell Washington’s thinking, although I suspect that General Chambers’ death complicates it. Well, regardless of any of that, after what Ms. Joyner said, no effort will be spared medically to save this Israeli agent. You can be sure of that.”

  “I appreciate that, Mac.”

  Suddenly, an orderly approached the two men gingerly, sensitive to the fact that he was interrupting a conversation of the base commander.

  General McCallister looked at the orderly and said, “What is it?”

  “Captain Marks would like to see Mr. Nielsen just outside the operating room.”

  As David followed the orderly through the doors that led to the surgery wing, he bit his lower lip and mumbled under his breath, “Please God, let her live. Please. I’ve buried my father and Yael. Not Sagit, too. Please not Sagit.”

  Approaching Captain Marks, standing alone with weary eyes, bloodshot from eight hours of surgery, David held his breath and thought, this is not good news. But suddenly the doctor cracked a small smile. He knew then, even before she said, “Sagit’s going to make it. It was touch-and-go for a while, but she’s a strong woman, and she has a fierce will to live.”

  He gave the doctor a bear hug. “Oh, thank you so much.”

  “Recovery and rehabilitation will take time. Something like three months, more or less, but she should be one hundred percent in all bodily functions after that.”

  “How can I ever thank you?”

  She smiled broadly. “Oh, one day over a cup of coffee, while Sagit’s still here, you can give me a firsthand report of your fight with General Chambers five years ago. It’s taken on almost mythic proportions in the history of this base, but no one had the courage to ask General Chambers about it. So none of us knows exactly knows what happened.”

  “That’s a deal,” he replied. “I’ll give you a blow-by-blow description. Now can I see her?”

  “Just for a few minutes. She’s still very groggy from the anesthesia. She won’t recognize you.”

  He walked over and touched Sagit, stood silently, listening to her breathing, thanking God that she was okay. Tears of relief and joy rolled down his cheeks. After five minutes, an orderly nudged him. “Dr. Marks says to leave her alone now for a few hours.”

  As David walked through the doors from the surgery wing, an ecstatic Daphna was waiting for him. “I got the good news about Sagit from one of the orderlies,” she said, and she threw her arms around him with joy.

  Back in the reception area, General McCallister gave David a broad smile. “I hear she’s going to be all right,” the general said, having realized that Greg was in love with this Mossad agent.

  “Your people are great. Especially Dr. Marks. I can’t thank them enough.”

  “Listen, Greg, Colonel Khalid wants to talk to you privately on a secure phone.” The general’s frown showed his unhappiness at having high-level communications occur, with a Saudi military official, to which he wasn’t a party, but the White House had told him that Mrs. Joyner spoke for the President.

  “Will you permit that?”

  “Mrs. Joyner said I should give you anything you want. The telephone equipment’s set up in the conference room across the hall.” General McCallister pointed that way. “I assure you that we won’t be listening in.”

  “I’ll take your word, Mac. You and I frequently disagreed about policy when I was here, but you never lied to me.” He could see the wariness in Mac’s eyes, and he added, “Colonel Khalid and I still have a couple of loose ends to tie up. I assure you that none of it will affect this base or the U.S. military in any way.”

  McCallister snarled. He had enough loyalty to General Chambers, his former commander, to reserve judgment on the consequences of any action undertaken by Greg Nielsen.

  David waddled across the corridor, with one lame leg and the other bandaged from his superficial thigh wound, into the conference room. He shut the door and picked up the red phone in the center of the table.

  There was a great deal of noise and shouting in Arabic at the other end of the phone, but finally he heard Khalid’s voice.

  “How did you know I was here?” David asked.

  “I planted an electronic device on the helicopter that emits a long-range signal. Just in case I had to rescue you.”

  “That’s pretty impressive.”

  “You taught me well.” His voice sounded full of appreciation.

  “How’s the battle going?”

  “I’ll tell you about that in a minute. First, tell me about Sagit. General McCallister said she was seriously wounded.”

  “After she killed Nasser, she was in a shoot-out with one of his guards. She was in surgery for about eight hours, but she’s going to be okay. Full recovery after a few months.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that. She’s a brave woman. What about your daughter? Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine. Now tell me about the coup.”

  “It’s over,” he said in a triumphant voice. “The three automated systems were deactivated. We subdued the king’s guards. We didn’t have to bomb the palace. The rest of the Saudi military has come over to our side.”

  “That’s great. So little bloodshed. You’ve got to be pleased.”

  Khalid, normally reserved, sounded joyful. “It couldn’t be any better. The shooting’s over. Crowds are celebrating in the streets of Riyadh and the other cities. The princes are barking orders to their servants to get packed as soon as possible.”

  David was thrilled. “That’s great. You’re letting them leave?”

  “Absolutely. The king and his princes can leave peacefully if that’s what they want as we move toward democratic reform.” David could almost see him waving his hand high over his head, signifying their exodus. “They’re scrambling to get their assets into European banks. Oh, it’s a great day here.”

  “And President Waltham didn’t jump in on the side of the king? He let you win?”

  “He sure did.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “Did you ever consider that President Waltham found you persuasive when you were in Washington?”

  David wanted to agree with Khalid, but he decided that modesty was the better approach. “I’d like to think that, but it was probably inertia on Washington’s part. It’s always easier to do nothing. But regardless, I’m thrilled for you at how everything has gone.”

  Khalid’s voice now turned grim. “There is, however, one little black spot.”

  David wondered what he was talking about. “A little black spot?”

  “Yeah, I have this French visitor,” he said angrily, “who set up shop in the penthouse of the Hyatt. She’s planning to run the entire Saudi oil industry, but that’s not how I saw our deal. I planned to cut her in for a piece of the action. I never thought we’d be going back to colonialism again.”

  David decided that he and Khalid were close enough for blunt talk. He took a deep breath and said, “C’mon, Khalid. You were dreaming. The woman’s a megalomaniac. You knew that from the start. You were unrealistic to think you could control her after the coup.”

  There was a long pause. Finally, Khalid responded. His voice was circumspect. “If she can change the deal, so can I. Besides, after the way the Americans behaved, by not intervening on the side
of the king, I’d prefer to deal with them, but I’ve got to get rid of her in order to do that.” He paused, giving David a minute to absorb his words and then continued. “Got any ideas about how I can get rid of her?”

  This was the moment David had been waiting for. At last Khalid had seen the light about Madame Blanc. Now David could make sure that ruthless bitch lost the profits from Saudi oil she’d worked so hard to get. “You can’t just expel her,” he told Khalid. “If she’s on the loose, she’ll never stop until she’s killed both of us.”

  “Agreed. What then?”

  “Poison her water or food.”

  “I thought of that, but I’ve made this commitment to due process and the rule of law, and she hasn’t broken any Saudi law.”

  David wanted to scream, Don’t be a naive fool, but he knew he couldn’t deal with Khalid that way. Instead he replied calmly, “She’s responsible for the death of an Israeli, a kid by the name of Kourosh, when she was working to set me up. She also killed an American,” his tone became sarcastic, “my good friend General Chambers. So why don’t you lock her up in on of your bleak prisons for a while, then ship her out to one of those two countries?”

  Khalid took a moment to frame his response. David was headed in the right direction, but he wasn’t quite there. “That won’t work. The U.S. would never try her for Chambers’ death because it would mean airing all that dirty linen in the press. So she’d walk, and you’re right, she’d never stop until she killed both of us.”

  Khalid took a deep breath before continuing. He didn’t want to offend David by what he next said. “As for Israel, one of the things I intend gradually to do is develop relations with the Israelis much like Egypt and Jordan and Morocco have done, but that’ll take time. Before I do that, I have to solidify my relations in the Arab world, and I won’t be able to do that with a high-level extradition to Israel out of the chute.”

  “So let her rot in jail for a few years while you mend your fences.”

  “She’s too well connected with the Sultan of Oman and the leaders in some other key oil states where she does business. They’ll pressure me to let her go.”

  Khalid stopped talking and waited. It took David only five seconds to understand where Khalid was going with this conversation. It was obvious. David chided himself for being so dense that he hadn’t seen it sooner. But now that he understood, he was ecstatic. There was nothing he’d enjoy doing more. His voice was somber when he responded to the Saudi colonel. “Your helicopter’s still in good shape. I could refuel it here. How close to the Hyatt could we land?”

  Khalid was relieved that David had taken the bait. “There’s a helipad on the roof, just above the penthouse floor, which she’s occupying. It’s forty-eight stories off the ground. Plenty of room for you to maneuver out of sight.”

  “Who controls the skies from Dhahran to the Hyatt? We had a pretty harrowing ride getting into the American base. I jettisoned all of my missiles. So we’d be vulnerable as hell coming in.”

  “You don’t have to worry,” Khalid said in a voice brimming with self-confidence. “I have absolute control over the air force, and I’ll make sure the skies remain clear for you. On the ground, my men control all the surface-to-air missile sites. You’ll be okay.”

  “What about Madame Blanc’s personal security in the hotel?”

  “I found out that she uses a firm called Global Security, which specializes in providing support to visiting Westerners.” Khalid glanced at a file on his desk. “It’s run by a Saudi named Zamil. I’ll tell him that if he wants to stay in business in the new Saudi Arabia, he’d better let me replace his guards with people I send, dressed in his uniforms, so she won’t get suspicious.”

  David was impressed at how far ahead of him Khalid was on this. “When I get there, what’ll these bogus guards do?”

  “Whatever you want. They can do nothing except make sure she remains in the hotel suite. Then when you get there, they’ll stay out of your way. But if you want them to help you, I can arrange that. You tell me.”

  David wasn’t about to give up the satisfaction of doing this himself. “Thanks for the offer, Khalid, but it’ll be a pleasure for me to tie her up in a tight little bundle myself.”

  Khalid smiled. “I expected as much. What do you want to do with that bundle? Will you need my help then?”

  A plan was forming in David’s mind. “Hold on a minute,” he said to Khalid as he placed the phone down on the table and walked over to Daphna. “If it meant getting even with Madame Blanc, would you fly that chopper again?”

  Daphna didn’t hesitate for an instant. As she recalled her imprisonment in the château in Grasse, her eyes sparkled with hatred. “With pleasure, David.”

  “Good, then tell me the range of that MD 500.”

  “Four hundred and thirty kilometers. Four-fifty max, if I keep the speed constant. Figuring only two or three of us inside.”

  “Okay. Sit tight for a little while.”

  He returned to the conference room and picked up the phone. “Here’s the plan, Khalid. We’ll take the chopper to the Hyatt. Once we get our bundle inside, we fly to an airbase west of Riyadh. You pick one. Remote, but not too far away. We’ll be pushing it on fuel. From there, I want a car with tinted windows and a military escort to take us to an isolated small port along the Red Sea. Say, around Al-Wajh. I’ll need a motor boat there, but no crew. That I can handle myself. From there, I’ll be on my own, moving up the Red Sea and into Eilat.”

  Khalid thought about what David had just told him. “It’s all doable. What else do you need?”

  “Have your people set up a room service table with a bottle of champagne in a closet on her floor. Also a waitress’ uniform.”

  “Will do. The hotel will have champagne around for Westerners. How soon are you planning to leave?”

  David was now trembling with excitement. “As soon as they can refuel me here.”

  * * *

  Dressed in Gucci leather pants and a pale blue cotton blouse, Madame Blanc sat at her desk in the Hyatt penthouse suite, hunched over papers that showed current production levels at each of the Saudi oil wells. In her position as Saudi oil czar, which she would be occupying starting tomorrow, all she would have to do was order those production levels down by twenty percent, and the price of crude oil would escalate by at least ten percent, driving up prices at the pump in the west by fifty or more cents a gallon. Her profits would skyrocket, not just from her oil concession in Saudi Arabia, but from all of her other oil interests throughout the world. And it could all be justified She would get her huge cut, but the Saudi people would get the income to which they were entitled. It was their oil. It was her oil. The West’s cheap ride was over, and her fun and profits were just beginning.

  She was quite pleased with herself as she thought about what she had achieved. Her plan had been brilliant. Khalid had taken control of the Saudi government in record time. The crowds in the streets were celebrating his victory, but it was her victory. She would now control the ultimate prize: the world’s greatest supply of oil.

  Suddenly the phone rang. Who could be calling me? she wondered, as she picked it up.

  “It’s Zamil from Global Security,” he said in a halting, tension-filled voice.

  Immediately she knew something was wrong. “What is it?” she demanded, showing him strength.

  “I have some valuable information for you. Information that could save your life.”

  “Tell me what it is.”

  “First, there’s the matter of my fee for the information.”

  She was furious. “I’m already paying you a huge daily fee for your services.”

  “But, madame, this is above and beyond our arrangement. A special one-time fee. If I give you this information, I’ll have to leave the country forever. My business will be gone.”

  “You’re a thief,” she screamed. “I’ll fire you and hire someone else.”

  “As you wish, madame,” he said coldly. />
  She knew from the sound of his voice that this wasn’t a shakedown for more money. Zamil had learned something so critical that he was putting himself at risk for telling her. One thought immediately popped into her mind: that dirty bastard, Khalid, was double-crossing her. She had to know what Khalid was up to.

  “How much do you want?” she asked.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “Twenty million U.S.,” he said with confidence, now feeling he had the upper hand. “Wired immediately to an account in Switzerland.”

  “Ten’s all I’ll pay, and if your information’s not worth it, with the friendships I have in the new government, you’ll have your money, but lose your head.”

  “I’m aware of that fact, madame. Ten’s not enough. It has to be fifteen.”

  Her face turned red with anger. “Twelve, or go fuck yourself.”

  There was a long pause. “Twelve it is,” he said.

  “Okay, what’s the information?”

  “You’ll have to wire the money first. I can access my account by remote. I need to see it in the account.”

  He then gave her the information about his bank account, and she wired the money using her computer.

  The phone was silent for a full minute. Then he said in a smug voice, “The money arrived.”

  “This better be good.”

  “It is. A little while ago, I received a phone call from Colonel Khalid’s headquarters, from some captain telling me that within the next hour, my men who were guarding you will be replaced by guards being sent by Colonel Khalid. My people are to go quietly when the replacements came and not to say anything to you. This captain made it seem as if you will be receiving security provided by the new government.” Zamil was perspiring heavily. He paused to wipe his forehead with a soiled handkerchief. “I asked the captain which unit will be providing your security, and he told me. I have friends in that unit, and by spreading around a little money, I learned that these new guards are supposed to sit back and do nothing if someone comes into your suite and takes you out, which means that...”