Light of the Sun: They always make a mistake and when they do, we kill them...

by David Costa

  As they drove from the airport Simons told Reece the reason he was here and what London wanted Reece to do.

  ‘I have the files on my laptop which we can download when we get to your place, but basically we will know a lot more when we meet up with our Israeli friends later.’

  The sun was almost gone and with it the heat of the day.

  ‘Have you been to Malta before?’

  ‘No this is my first time. I believe it’s a beautiful island.’

  ‘If we get the time, I would love to show you around.’

  ‘Time might be a problem, David. I googled Malta on the way over, so I know a little of the history, but if we get free of work, I would love to take you up on your offer and look over the place; it looks fascinating.’

  ‘It is. I love the mixture of all the different Mediterranean cultures from the east to the west, but as usual work gets in the way.’

  ‘Is Mary at your place?’

  It did not surprise Reece that Simons knew about Mary. The operation they’d worked on in Manchester and the connection between her and Reece was well known in the top circles of MI6 and the Department.

  ‘Yes, she’s back at the villa. She only knows that I’m picking someone up but not who or why.’

  Reece knew the need-to-know aspect of his work was always paramount to getting the job done and staying alive.

  ‘I’m not worried about that David. In fact, I’m looking forward to meeting her. I believe she is a stunning beauty.’ He smiled.

  ‘She’s my stunning beauty you remember that.’ laughed Reece.

  The rest of the drive was in silence as Reece concentrated on the traffic which was busier than usual for that time of day, and Simons continued to look out at the architecture as they drove, passing under the walls of Mdina, the Silent City to their left and the Dome of Mosta Church in the distance, on their right. Malta traffic still moved on the same side of the roads as in England, but some of the local population drove as if they were in the crowded streets of Rome or London, cutting each other up, always looking for the short cut and sounding their horn loudly if they had to overtake a slower driver. It took Reece another forty-five minutes before he was able to park outside the Villa Joseph in Qawra.

  ‘I can see why you don’t want to live in London, it’s beautiful here,’ said Simons as they entered the gardens of the villa.

  ‘You should see it on a really sunny day.’

  ‘Maybe I will one day.’

  Mary was in the front room reading a book when they entered.

  ‘Mary, I would like you to meet Matthew, a friend from the office,’ said Reece.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Matthew. Did you have a good trip?’

  Simons, for the moment, couldn’t speak. He was transfixed by the woman in front of him.

  ‘Ohhh…pleased to meet you. Yes, thank you it was quiet, no bumps.’ He smiled.

  ‘I haven’t made any dinner as I don’t know what you want to do, Joseph?’

  Simons looked at Reece with his eyebrows raised in question.

  ‘It’s OK, Matthew. She likes to call me by my code name. In fact, she insists on it. No, sorry we only have time for a quick drink and a chat then we must go out again. I’m afraid you’ll be eating alone tonight but I hope we’ll be back in time for a nightcap.’

  ‘No problem. Matthew come with me, and I’ll show you your room.’

  ‘David, where do you want me to set-up my laptop so you can get a look at what I’ve brought?’

  ‘Over there on the dining table then go with Mary and I’ll fix us a few drinks. What’s your poison?’

  ‘Scotch and ice if you, have it?’

  ‘No Scotch here, only the best Irish, Bushmills, OK?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  Reece went to the kitchen to get the drinks while Simons left the laptop on the table and followed Mary with his bag to his room.

  Two Bushmills later, while Mary continued her reading in the bedroom, Reece gave a breakdown of the issue ahead.

  ‘So, basically London wants us to work with Mossad to keep an eye on this Iranian and a couple of Hezbollah thugs. Find out what they’re up to and if necessary, bump them off if it gets too sticky?’

  ‘Well, let’s hope it doesn’t get too sticky, I don’t fancy shoot-outs no matter what the odds.’

  ‘Tell me Matthew, with your knowledge of how these buggers work, what’s your gut telling you? My experience is from your everyday Irish cowboy. These Arabs scare the hell out of me.’

  ‘And so they should. They’re not just Arabs, as you call them. They come from many groups, religions, and on the odd occasion single people who just hate the West and their false gods. To them, and they honestly believe this, anyone who does not worship the one true God Allah, are infidels; devils who need to be converted or killed. To tell you the truth, the West hasn’t helped with its many years of interference in the Middle and Far East, Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Libya. Yes, you and I know some of the interference was needed, but much of it was a mistake, now the birds are coming home to roost. Just as you saw in Manchester, when the Islamic side was willing to work with the Irish side to get the job done and again with 9/11 in the States and 7th July in London, they’ve decided to take us on wherever they can. The gloves are off, and the West has had to take off theirs in response, resulting in the Black Ops organisations such as the Department and you. These people will never stop I’m afraid until they kill us all and get their own version of an Islamic world whatever that will be.’

  ‘Or unless we kill them first. I know what you’re saying. I’ve seen these people up close, and they don’t want to talk, to negotiate, they’re willing to kill themselves to get the job done. Let’s get moving, you wait outside by the car, I’ll just say goodbye to Mary. We can grab something to eat on the way, there is a pizza takeaway at the end of the road we can eat in the car.’

  Chapter 8

  They ate as Reece drove into Valletta, the evening traffic light on the coast road that took them past St Julian’s Bay and skirting the Harbour at Sliema, around the Yacht Basin and on into the city itself. Simons watched the beauty of Malta unfold with so many different sights to see, he again had appreciated why Reece preferred to live here instead of London.

  ‘Have you ever worked with Mossad before David?’

  ‘Just on the periphery once. I don’t know if you remember when Colonel Ghaddafi shipped the Provos tons of weapons in the eighties and one of the ships, the Eksund, was stopped by the French with one thousand AK47 rifles, over fifty ground to air missiles and two tonnes of Semtex?’

  ‘Yes, I remember the one that didn’t get away.’

  ‘Correct, it was believed afterwards that two similar ships had already got through. The Eksund was being monitored by Mossad, and RUC Special Branch had been informed to expect another shipment of weapons and an increase in attacks because of that information. The French who have always been sympathetic to the Arabs and wanted more cheap oil from Ghaddafi jumped on the ship first, releasing those involved within a short time. Of course, the British, Israelis, and the Americans, who all knew about the ship, were unhappy to say the least. My part as a Special Branch officer was to deal with the aftermath of these weapons getting through resulting in hundreds of dead. I’ve always respected the fact that Mossad face the same enemies and dangers that we have and that was one occasion when they wanted us to get these bastards as much as we did.’

  ‘Well, these bastards as you call them have something that is far more dangerous than all the weapons in those ships, so let’s hope this time your connection with Mossad will be more successful.’

  Reece knew his way through the one-way system through the centre of Valletta City. Soon they were pulling into the car park near the ancient city walls and the five-star Grand Excelsior Hotel.

  ‘Well Matthew, it looks like Mossad have a bigger expense account than SG9.’

  Reece knew something of the hotel. It was a five-star experience throughout with
stunning views from the Tiki Bar and Restaurant overlooking the Marsamxett Harbour and the historic Fort Manoel, with the entrance to the harbour and the Mediterranean Sea in the distance. When Mary had first come to Malta with Reece, they’d spent an amazing afternoon relaxing in the sun on the terrace after a wonderful lunch while drinking their second bottle of white wine.

  Reece asked the receptionist to try the room of Mr Stressor and to tell him Mr Reece was waiting in reception for him. He waited while the receptionist called the room and she confirmed that Mister Stressor was on his way down.

  They took a seat at a table in the large reception area and waited. Five minutes later one of the lift doors opened and a man and woman walked towards where Reece and Simons were sitting. Reece noticed by the way they dressed and walked that they fitted right into the type of client the hotel preferred; people with class, both were the appearance of good health itself, fit and tanned. The woman wore jewellery to complement the white linen dress with a single string of white pearls around her neck.

  Both men stood as the man reached out his hand.

  ‘Mister Reece?’

  Reece shook the offered hand.

  ‘It’s David and this is Matthew.’

  ‘Both Jewish names from the Bible,’ said the woman ‘and if it’s first names I’m Anna and this is Palo.’

  ‘Both names, not from the Bible,’ smiled Reece.

  ‘Please let’s sit here. It will be quieter than the other areas of the hotel,’ said Palo.

  As they sat facing each other Reece thought how beautiful the woman was, and how if she was, as he had been told by Simons, a member of the famous Mossad Kidon teams, how deadly she could be.

  It was the woman who took the lead.

  ‘We all know something of why we are here. You know our background and we yours. It’s why we are here that matters, basically because that’s what our masters want us to do. As time is of importance I’ll get right to the point. We know that a ship carrying an Iranian Colonel will dock in Malta tomorrow evening. Our masters want us to watch him and find out what he is up to for now, nothing more nothing less. At least that is our understanding. Do you feel that is correct?’

  ‘That’s our understanding too,’ said Reece.

  ‘I’m sorry we didn’t ask if you wanted something to drink?’ asked Palo.

  Reece had been waiting. He knew the prices and if Mossad was footing the bill, he would be happy to have a drink.

  ‘Thank you, a Bushmills Whiskey, on ice,’ said Reece who knew the hotel was one of the few places on the island that served his favourite tipple.

  ‘Same again,’ said Simons.

  Palo called a waiter and ordered the two whiskies and a bottle of Chardonnay Wine with two glasses.

  ‘Tel Aviv was impressed with how you dealt with that threat in Manchester,’ said Anna.

  ‘It was a team job, and we lost a few friends.’

  ‘I think the innocent people who walk the streets of this world don’t realise we are at war every day,’ said Palo.

  ‘I’m inclined to agree with you there Palo,’ said Matthew, ‘and for every one of these terrorists we kill, two more pop up. It’s going to be a long war. As we are only four will that be enough to cover what you want to do?’

  ‘For now, Matthew, I think we will have enough. If we are working together, I expect our masters will want daily updates. I’m sure if we need to increase what we need; like you, we can get extra resources here quickly.’ Again, it was the woman who spoke, taking the lead in the conversation.

  Reece had something to add to the discussion.

  ‘The one thing we found in Northern Ireland; the more we killed the experienced guys, then those who stepped into the dead men’s shoes were not of the same calibre, making it easier for us to close them down when they tried to carry out their operations. Cut the head off the snake and the body dies.’

  ‘There’s a difference David,’ said Anna, ‘the Irish terrorist knows there is a risk of being caught or killed but he always hopes to escape. The people we will be dealing with here and some of those you dealt with in Manchester do not care. To them it is an honour to die as a martyr for Allah. They don’t worry about being caught which makes them more difficult to deal with.’

  The waiter interrupted the conversation when he arrived with the drinks.

  Reece raised his glass, ‘Cheers.’

  Both Israelis raised their glasses and spoke in unison. ‘L’Chaim, to Life.’

  ‘Do you have much information of this Colonel and what he is up to, and why he is coming here?’ asked Reece.

  Again, it was Anna who spoke.

  ‘Not much more than you have already. I understand our boss has been in touch with your boss and a full file on Colonel Ali Shafi of the Quads Unit of the Iranian Republican Guard is available to us all. He is the head of the Security at one of their nuclear development sites. Another one that they deny having. From our information he is on his way here on an Iranian cargo ship; carrying, we believe, a small amount of plutonium for what purpose we are unsure. We do not know if he is going to use it himself or give it to or sell it to someone else. Malta has no strategic attraction or purpose for Iran so we believe he may pass the plutonium on to someone here, or the ship with him and his package will sail further to another port. In the meantime, it’s our job to observe and report.’

  Reece swirled the ice cubes around the glass. Looking at both Mossad agents he took another sip of the whiskey before he spoke.

  ‘I presume you have all we need for tomorrow. Up-to-date photos of our target. The details of the ship, when it will arrive, and where it will dock in Valletta, it’s a big harbour.’

  This time Palo answered.

  ‘Yes David, we have all those answers. The ship is expected around 6 p.m. Can I suggest we exchange phone numbers to keep in touch and we can send you all those details? Like you, no doubt, we all have encrypted phones so the details being passed won’t interfere with our security or yours. We have contacted one of our people who lives on the island, and they’ve already supplied us with two cars and radio equipment we can use. They will also supply us with the details of a building close to where the ship will dock. A building we can observe safely from. We understand that as you live here in Malta you may know your way around fairly well, so that will be of great help if we need to follow this man.’

  ‘I don’t know every nook and cranny, but I have a basic knowledge of Malta. Do you have maps?’

  ‘Yes, we have good maps,’ replied Palo, ‘the type used by tourists as we find they highlight important places of interest better.’

  ‘Good, have you weapons?’ Reece asked.

  ‘From tomorrow we will have them,’ answered Anna.

  ‘Good. I understand that this Colonel will have some Hezbollah minders with him and if things go tits up, we need to be able to get out of trouble,’ said Reece.

  ‘Tits up?’ asked Anna with an inquisitive smile.

  ‘It means if things start to go wrong or there’s danger, we will also be armed,’ said Reece.

  ‘What are the local security forces and police like, are they inclined to get in the way?’ asked Anna.

  ‘The biggest danger is the police.’ said Reece, ‘It’s not a big island so they don’t miss much, and as we are out of the tourist season their problems are few leaving them free to catch-up on their own holidays and paperwork. I do not see them as a problem. There is a small naval unit based here in Valletta which concentrates more on smuggling from Africa and Sicily; again, this should not be a problem. There is a small military unit based inland. They do a lot of training in the other European countries with a small contingent on ceremonial duties. Again, with this being out of the tourist season, this is only on a couple of occasions. All have access to weapons, but in all my time here, I’ve never heard of a single shooting. Unless we are stupid enough to bring attention to ourselves, we should have no problems.’

  ‘What if we have to use our weap
ons?’ asked Palo.

  ‘Let’s hope that won’t be necessary, but my training, and I am sure your training, is to shoot to kill when threatened. When I was undercover in Northern Ireland, two British soldiers in civilian dress accidentally drove their car into a place where a republican funeral was taking place; both were armed but tried to fire their guns in the air to keep the crowd back. Unfortunately, this did not work, they were overwhelmed, captured, beaten, and shot dead. I saw the whole thing afterwards as it was videoed from an army helicopter above the scene. It was not something I’ll ever forget. After that any of us working that war made a promise to ourselves that if we were in a similar situation we would shoot to kill. We would rather face a twelve-man jury of our peers than be carried by six men to our grave.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more David,’ said Anna.

  ‘Would you like another drink?’ asked Palo.

  Reece downed what was left in his glass.

  ‘No thank you. I think we should all get an early night; we could have a few busy days ahead of us. Excellent, let us meet back here tomorrow at 3 p.m. and work from there. For tonight we will update London as I’m sure you will do the same for Tel Aviv.’

  Standing they all shook hands.

  ‘Until tomorrow then,’ said Maria.

  ‘Until tomorrow,’ said Reece.

  As they walked back to the car Reece could only think about the female Mossad agent and how her body moved in that white dress showing every curve when the slight breeze had caught it as she’d walked from the lift towards him. He loved Mary but he knew like all women she would want to know what the other women in your life looked like and how you felt about them. He would have to lie about Anna’s beauty, but then he was good at lying.

  Mary was still up when they got back. Simons went to his room to update London on the meeting with the Mossad agents, while Mary poured them all a glass of red wine.

  At this time of year when the sun went down it could be cold, especially when you lived in a house on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea, when the winter storms could bring a strong wind directly off the top of the waves onto the shore.