Saving Sophie: A Novel

by Ronald H. Balson

  “I agree, and think of what wondrous things we can do with all that money,” Fa’iz said. “Arif, you will contact Sami and Aziz and tell them that the deliveries are to take place tomorrow. We are a go.”

  * * *

  DMITRI PAUSED HIS VIDEO when Evgeniy walked into the room.

  “I drove by his house earlier this evening,” Evgeniy said. “I thought I might catch Kelsen at his home, but his stupid chauffeur saw me and waved at me.”

  “Did you stop?”

  Evgeniy shook his head. “No. I saw him rush into the house, so I have to figure he tells Kelsen that he saw me.”

  Dmitri nodded and took a sip of vodka.

  “I wait around the corner until I see the lights of a Lexus pull down the block. Sure enough, it’s Kelsen. Driving himself. I follow him into the Lincoln Park neighborhood. He parks behind a taxicab. There are people on the street, I can do nothing. When the cab leaves, Kelsen walks up to a door where a woman is standing. A couple of words and the two of them go inside.”

  “Who was the woman?”

  “No idea.”

  “That old weasel. He’s getting action on the side.”

  “That’s what I think too. So I figure, it better be good, because it’s the last action he’s ever gonna get. I turn off the lights and wait for him to come out.”

  “Good work.”

  “No, Dmitri. Not good. Half hour later a car pulls up, two men get out, knock on the door, and arrest Kelsen.”

  Dmitri looked at his cocktail glass and flung it at the wall. “I told you to get him right away. Now the government has him.”

  “We can get to him like we got to Sommers.”

  “You’re a fool. No one will get near him. I’m sure he’s spilled his guts. It’s probably too late already. We need to get out of here. Call Ilya. Tell him to file his flight plan to Moscow immediately. He must be ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Dmitri walked upstairs and into the bedroom, where his wife was reading a magazine. “Inessa, we need to leave. Tell Davit to pack his things, we are going to Moscow for a while.”

  “He has school. He can’t just leave, he’ll fail his classes. Besides, I have Pilates class tomorrow. I don’t want to go. This is too sudden.”

  Dmitri clasped his hands around her face. “I am not making suggestions. I am telling you to pack. We leave tomorrow morning.”

  “You do what you want. I am staying here.”

  Dmitri leaned over until his lips were inches from her face. “Stay if you wish. I can find tits anywhere on earth. But I am taking my son. If you interfere in any way, I will slice you like a potato.” He let her go and left the room.

  SEVENTY-THREE

  A BLUE TRUCK, ITS sides emblazoned with MEDITERRANEAN MEDICAL SUPPLY in English and Hebrew letters in bright yellow, pulled out of the company’s distribution center. Instead of taking the direct route to the hospitals, Sami drove across town to a cold-storage facility in west Jerusalem. The weather was clear and traffic was light. He pulled his truck into Global Fisheries and the overhead door was closed.

  Inside, Aziz and his men quickly switched the boxes of Sexton IV sets with al-Zahani’s poisonous substitutes stored in the cold-storage room. The job completed, the blue delivery truck was once again on its way. Three hospitals and two clinics were scheduled to receive their deliveries, a total of twenty-six hundred IV sets, two thousand of which were secretly manufactured in the laboratories of Dr. Arif al-Zahani.

  Sami was dressed in his standard uniform: a dark blue jumpsuit with a yellow canvas belt. The oval symbol of Mediterranean Medical Supply, grape leaves around the Rod of Asclepius, was sewn onto the left shirt pocket. As with all MMS uniforms, the employee’s name was neatly embroidered in Hebrew script above the pocket. A plastic identification card hung on a cord around his neck.

  Sami backed his delivery truck into the loading dock of Jerusalem Memorial Hospital and hopped out of the driver’s seat with his clipboard. A handful of papers were bound to the board by a rubber band. He knocked on the reception door.

  “Delivery, Jake,” Sami said to the guard at the door. “Twenty-two boxes of IV sets.”

  The security guard looked at his daily manifest. “Right in here, Shmuel.” He opened the delivery door and Sami wheeled the hand truck into the hospital’s pharmacy department. The pharmacy staff greeted the familiar deliveryman and promptly unloaded the shipment.

  “ER needs three hundred sets immediately,” said one hospital worker.

  “I’ll take them right upstairs,” an orderly replied.

  Sami tipped his hat and was on his way. At the next stop, Sami handed the clipboard to the guard at the loading dock, who carefully studied the bill of lading. He shook his head. “The IV sets are correct, Sammy, but your order is short. We’re also expecting PICC lines and infusion pumps.”

  “Two of our trucks are down today. We concentrated on filling the orders for IV sets. The rest of the order will come later today or tomorrow.”

  “No matter. Just bring the boxes in.”

  Sami nodded and wheeled the boxes into the hospital. The hospital staff placed al-Zahani’s IV sets in the central pharmaceutical department, available for immediate use. Sami nodded to the staff and drove to the next hospital on his route.

  The routine was repeated at each stop without incident. Every hospital accepted and placed the deliveries into current inventory. His mission completed, Sami returned the truck to Mediterranean, retrieved his car, and drove to his home.

  Al-Zahani’s cell phone buzzed. He read the text and smiled. Immediately he called Fa’iz. “The resting places have been achieved,” he said, and hung up.

  * * *

  EVGENIY CARRIED THE LUGGAGE from Dmitri’s front hall to the limo in the driveway. Dmitri and Davit hurried out the door and slid into the backseat. The sun had yet to rise, and the April morning had laid a covering of frost on the lawn. Evgeniy was about to shut the door when Inessa came running out of the house, her robe barely tied around her nightgown. She climbed into the back, fastened her seat belt, and said in an animated tone, “So, we’re off to the mother country?”

  The car quickly left the quiet suburb and headed south along I-294. There was little traffic in the predawn hours and nothing was said on the way. Davit fell asleep and leaned his head against his mother. Seventy minutes later, they pulled into Independence Executive Airport and into a private hangar. The motors of the Gulfstream were whining when they arrived. They quickly climbed the metal stairs and took their seats in the plane.

  Dmitri nervously looked out the window. The airport was quiet. No other planes were on the runways. The cabin door closed and the plane moved slowly forward from the hangar and made its way to the apron, where it stopped. After it remained stationary for a few minutes, Dmitri took off his belt and hurried to the cockpit. “Why aren’t we taking off? Why did you stop?”

  “Sorry, sir, but we have not received clearance to take off,” the pilot said.

  “Call the tower. Find out what’s holding us up.”

  “I have done that, sir. They’ve asked us to wait. Perhaps there is an incoming flight, or an emergency.”

  The plane sat for another ten minutes. Dmitri squirmed in his seat. Finally, he once again unbuckled his belt and scampered to the cockpit. “We need to go. Call them again,” he ordered.

  “Independence ground, Gulfstream November Romeo Five Four Echo on west apron, request clearance for departure, direction east.”

  “Negative, Gulfstream. Request is denied. Please hold your position at this time. There’s a total ground stop.”

  The pilot looked at Dmitri and shrugged.

  “Go anyway. Just go.”

  “I can’t. I’ll lose my license.”

  Dmitri pulled a gun from his pocket. “Go!”

  “Independence ground, Gulfstream November Romeo Five Four Echo proceeding runway three right, departing east.”

  “Do not take off. Repeat. Do not proceed. You
are to stay at the apron, Gulfstream. There is a ground stop.”

  Dmitri sat in the jump seat, his gun pointed at the pilot. “Go!”

  The plane started moving forward, but stopped abruptly.

  “What are you doing?” shouted Dmitri. “I said to go.”

  The pilot pointed out the window. Four police cars were directly in the plane’s path and headed toward them, their lights flashing.

  “Shit,” said Dmitri.

  SEVENTY-FOUR

  KAYLA AND LIAM HELD the conference room doors open as Marcy guided Jack’s wheelchair to the table. Finding it difficult to sit erect, he leaned to the side, wincing in obvious discomfort. His complexion was pasty and beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. The strain of the journey had taken its toll. The group joined Harry and the others, who rose to greet them.

  An aerial photo of al-Zahani’s compound was projected on a retractable screen. The photo clearly depicted the property surrounded by the perimeter wall. His outbuilding, his home, a garage, and three individuals walking through the yard were identifiable. Four guards were pictured standing outside the perimeter walls. A parking area with six old cars was located to the rear of the outbuilding.

  “Welcome to Tel Aviv,” Eliezer said. “Make yourselves comfortable. I hope your flight was not too strenuous.”

  “It’s good to be back, sir, thank you,” Kayla said as she took her seat.

  “I thank you, as well,” Jack said. “I’m looking forward to seeing my daughter and taking her home.” His voice was shaky and his bearing unsteady.

  Eliezer gestured to the table and introduced the notables in attendance: the Israeli defense minister, the public security minister, the Shin Bet chief, and the IDF chief of staff. When all were settled, he said, “We have less than three days to learn the details of the terrorist plot and stop the operation. As we understand it, the proposed exchange is set for noon tomorrow in the al-Zahani compound. Am I right, Kayla?”

  “Yes, sir, that’s correct.”

  “It’s only fair to tell you, we’ve been discussing the urgency of the situation all morning. There is considerable support for a preemptive raid as early as tonight.”

  “You can’t do that!” Jack said. “Sophie’d get caught in the crossfire.”

  “Indeed,” Eliezer answered calmly. “I’m afraid that’s an unfortunate possibility. Our young soldiers may also get caught in a crossfire and it’s not something we take lightly, but we are carrying a heavy responsibility here. We must protect our citizens from terrorism.”

  “But a preemptive raid is only under discussion, right?” Kayla said. “You haven’t made up your mind?”

  “Out of deference to you,” Eliezer said. “Harry tells us that you fear the group will destroy the building and the evidence of the plot?”

  “They’ve said so. It’s on the recording. They’re prepared to firebomb the building.”

  “What is the current situation at the property?”

  “The entire compound is full of security guards,” Yonit said. “We’ve watched it day and night. There are always guards outside the walls, never fewer than three, sometimes as many as five. We believe we’ve spotted armed guards within the compound, some near the doors of the outbuilding where the devices are being assembled. That factory—or laboratory, whatever it is—is working twenty-four/seven. Three shifts of workers leave and enter the property at specified times of day. The front gate opens at seven A.M., three P.M., and eleven P.M. punctually. Workers come and go. Other than at shift change, the gate is locked and, we presume, fortified.”

  “That supports my opinion that the compound cannot be breached without considerable resistance,” Kayla said. “Such an engagement would take time and allow al-Zahani to destroy the building.”

  “It wouldn’t take that much time,” said the IDF chief of staff confidently.

  “How much time would it take for al-Zahani to trigger the bomb, not only destroying the laboratory but anyone near it, including our soldiers? Can you give me assurances, Moshe?” Eliezer said.

  Moshe shook his head. “Of course not.”

  Eliezer turned to Kayla. “This man, he would destroy all of his employees as well and put his own home at risk?”

  “I know from personal experience that al-Zahani is ruthless and cares nothing for human life that gets in the way of his agenda,” Kayla said. “Collateral damage will not deter his mission.”

  “But he will open the gates for you and Mr. Sommers and let you walk into his house?”

  “Correct. And we will distract the doctor long enough for you to gain access to the outbuilding.”

  Eliezer turned to his IDF chief. “And you can respond quickly with your soldiers?”

  He nodded. “Certainly. But seconds are critical. Once in the home, Kayla may need to take affirmative measures to stop al-Zahani from triggering the explosives.”

  “Understood,” Kayla said. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be anxious to set off the bomb. He’s an arrogant man. He probably thinks he’s got a foolproof plan for taking the money and disposing of us. He’ll be transfixed on the briefcase. Undoubtedly, he has no intention of turning over the child. And he won’t be eager to destroy his building. He wants to continue with his operations later this summer.”

  “Al-Zahani’s aware there are three of you?” Eliezer said.

  “Liam set up the conditions for the exchange through Abu Hammad. Al-Zahani was informed that Jack was confined to a wheelchair and would be accompanied by a nurse. So he knows there will be three.”

  “What about this young lady?” Eliezer pointed to Marcy.

  “She stays here.”

  “No, no. Let me go with Jack. I can go as his wife. I can push the wheelchair. You’ll need someone to help with Sophie. She’ll be frightened. She knows me.”

  “Out of the question,” Kayla said. “We told him there would be three. You’ll just get in the way. We made a deal, remember?”

  “Do not let her go,” Jack said, his breathing labored. “She stays here.”

  “Jack!”

  “I’m sorry, Marcy, but Kayla’s right. You wait for me. If anything happens to me, you must take Sophie to Deborah.”

  “Really, Marcy, it’s better that you stay here in Tel Aviv,” Kayla said. “The IDF will make sure Sophie gets to you.”

  “What do you mean, the IDF?” Jack said. “What about you?” He looked hard at Kayla, who shrugged. “You don’t think you’re going to make it back, do you?”

  “Well, I certainly intend to, but I’m aware of the risks involved. I’ve got a job to do.”

  “You mean you’ve got a score to settle,” Liam said.

  “We need to move on here,” Eliezer interjected. “I see no reason why Marcy cannot go to Kiryat Arba, where you’ll stay tonight. It’s apparent to me that she’s a comforting presence for Jack.” Eliezer smiled. “He needs care, and she can care for him until the mission begins. And she can assist in bringing the child home.”

  “I disagree, sir,” Kayla said. “She should stay here. She’s a civilian. The mission will be dangerous, even in Kiryat Arba.”

  “Excuse me,” Liam said, raising his hand. “Civilian, right here.”

  “Quite right,” Eliezer said. “I see three civilians at this table, all willing volunteers on this mission.”

  “Speaking of my own personal agenda,” Liam said, with a quick nod to Kayla, “I booked a return flight to Chicago and I intend to be on it.” Turning to Eliezer, he said, “I’d like to know what support we’ll have, sir, and how you’ve scripted this op.”

  “You’ll have full IDF support, of course.” Eliezer gestured to the uniformed woman at the end of the table. “Colonel Yonit Gershon will be on the ground and running this operation. Yonit, if you please.”

  Yonit stood and walked to the screen. Her uniform—olive slacks and a short-sleeve shirt—was fitted snugly to her taut frame. Her dark hair was pulled back and tied. She reminded Liam of a panther: quick, powerfu
l, perceptive, dangerous.

  “We will have troops here, here, and here, just outside the view of the security cameras.” Yonit pointed to the aerial photo. “We’ll have transports around the corner, here and here. The four guards outside the walls will be taken down simultaneously the moment you’ve entered the home. Quickly thereafter, we’ll secure the entire compound.

  “They’ll expect you to arrive in a vehicle, and since Jack is in a wheelchair, we have prepared and modified a handicap van, the type that is routinely available from rental agencies. In fact, it’s waiting for you downstairs. You’ll drive it to Kiryat Arba.”

  She changed the picture to a gray Chrysler van. “This is your vehicle. There’s a wheelchair lift, as shown here.” She advanced the slide to depict the van with the side door open. “We’re making some assumptions here. We expect the guards to search the van, and each of you, before the gates are opened. When they’re confident you have no weapons, they’ll open the gate and allow you to proceed into the compound and up to the house.”

  “No weapons?” Liam said. “We’re going in with no weapons? Even al-Zahani wouldn’t think we’re that dumb. I have a gun.”

  “We know, but you can’t bring a gun. This has been arranged as a peaceful exchange. There’s no way they’re going to let you in with a gun. We’ve planted weapons in the van, and I’ll get to that in a few minutes,” Yonit continued. “The IDF will have substantial assets on the ground to back you up, but you’ll be on your own once you’re inside the home.”

  “Do we think al-Zahani will have guards inside?” Kayla said.

  “Maybe.”

  “Extra guards? I don’t think so,” Liam answered. “He’ll have that big guy we saw with Sophie, but al-Zahani’s going to think he’s safe within his house. We’ll go inside to make the exchange. I figure he takes the money, then maneuvers us outside, where he plans to have his guards shoot us. He’s not going to want to have a gunfight in his house, especially with the child present. What’s the collective judgment here?”