by Gar Wilson
"Yes," Ohara replied, holding a dagger in his left fist. "I found this under his shirt. The blade is stained with some sort of chemical. Probably poison."
"Cyanide," Katz said. "The two men who tried to kill the prime minister were also armed with such knives."
"An assassination attempt?" Manning asked. "What the hell is going on, Yakov?"
"A powder keg is set to explode," Katz answered. "If it does, we might well see the beginning of World War Three."
6
The director of Mossad is one of Israel's most powerful men. Espionage and counterintelligence have always been vital to Israel — clandestine operations are often more important than battlefield victories.
During the struggle for Israel's independence, there had been many Jewish intelligence organizations in operation: the Haganah, the Sherut Yediot, better known as the Shai, Rekhesh and Mossad.
In 1948, the current director of Mossad was a member of the Palmach, a special-missions strike force for Haganah.
After the war of independence, the director became the commander of the Barok Unit, a fighting squad assigned to carry out missions in hostile territory against radical terrorist groups. His team had traveled to Algeria, Syria and Lebanon to take action against such terrorist outfits as Black September.
The team had identified and found the Black September mastermind responsible for the 1972 massacre of Israeli athletes at the Olympic Village in Munich. Six years after the slaughter, Mohammed Hassan Salameh paid for his crime with his life. Salameh and his bodyguards were blown to bits by a car bomb in Beirut.
The success of this operation was considered a great victory for Mossad — especially since a previous attempt had ended tragically when an Israeli hit team killed an innocent man in Norway whom they had mistaken for Salameh. Zwicka Zamir promptly promoted the man who had coordinated the Salameh operation. That man was destined to become Zamir's successor.
The director of Mossad had considerable background in direct-action missions. Thus he had great respect for Colonel Katzenelenbogen, one of the few men who had more experience in this field than himself. Yet he was stunned when Katz contacted him directly and requested a personal audience.
Actually, Katz's request had been a blunt command to meet him at the Tel Aviv Zoo at Mikve Yizra'el Square. The director was more accustomed to giving orders than taking them. The colonel's behavior was unorthodox if not outrageous, however, he realized Katzenelenbogen must have a very good reason for his actions.
The director arrived at the zoo alone. He wandered along the walkways, passing animal cages. He headed for the reptile house.
"Mister Director?" a voice whispered in Hebrew.
He turned to face the speaker. To his surprise he saw a middle-aged man dressed in an abayeh — robe — and a keffïyeh around his head. The director stiffened. Being involved in any intelligence organization causes a certain amount of paranoia. The head of Mossad was especially suspicious of Arabs.
"I am Katzenelenbogen," the stranger declared.
The director stared at the "Arab." He recognized the man's face from the personnel file on Katzenelenbogen he had studied earlier.
"Please follow me, sir," Katz said as he led the Mossad boss to a nearby restroom.
Katz ignored the handwritten sign tacked to the door stating that the restroom was closed for repairs. He rapped on the door and waited for a two-knock reply. Then he rapped once more. The door opened. The director was surprised to see five men waiting inside the men's room.
One of the men was an Arab who glared at the director with hatred. Dried blood was caked around his split lips, but there was no other sign of physical abuse. His hands appeared to be bound behind his back and two other men aimed silencer-equipped pistols at the Arab.
"I'm sure you wonder what is going on," Katz said as he closed the bolted the door.
"That's an understatement, Colonel," the director replied.
Katz quickly introduced him to the other men of Phoenix Force. He told the director about the incident at the airport. The Mossad chief listened quietly, a grim expression on his face. When Katz finished his story, the director addressed Phoenix Force in fluent English.
"What happened after the gun battle?" he asked.
"Naturally the police and airport security arrived to investigate," Katz said. "I showed them my Mossad identification and told them everything would be taken care of. There wasn't much trouble getting them to let us handle the matter, although the owner of the Mercedes-Benz was rather upset that his car had been demolished. I assured him the government would pay for the automobile."
"How kind of you," the director said.
"I thought so," Katz said. "By the way, the Mercedes belonged to the vice-chairman of the National Religious Party."
"There will be some angry demands for explanations from the NRP about this," the director said.
He looked at the Arab terrorist Phoenix Force had captured. "Has he told you anything yet?"
"Not even his name," Katz stated. "According to his ID, he's Ali Aboussan, a corporal in the Egyptian army air corps."
"Another Egyptian. This matter looks even worse than we thought."
"Let's not condemn Cairo too quickly," Katz urged. "Besides, we have another problem to deal with. It's the reason I had to see you personally. Someone in Israeli intelligence is in league with the terrorists."
"That's absurd..."
"Then how do you explain the ambush that was waiting for us in the parking lot?" Manning inquired.
"The Arabs must have followed Colonel Katzenelenbogen."
"I think I would have spotted a tail," Katz said. "But even if the terrorists did follow me, they had to have a reason to do so in the first place.''
"I can't believe anyone in Mossad would betray Israel," the director said. "You know how carefully we scan for loyalty in our people, Colonel."
"Traitors, defectors and sleeper agents can be found anywhere in the world," Manning said. "Why not in Israel?"
"Only three men knew I was going to be at the airport," Katz declared. "Major Eytan, Lieutenant Colonel Zavarj and Deputy Director Geller."
"You're suspicious of my second-in-command?" The Mossad director stared at the men of Phoenix Force as if he thought they had all escaped from an insane asylum.
"Trusting people isn't part of our job," McCarter stated in a hard flat voice. "Are you going to let us do our bloody job or are we going to piss around here all day arguing about the bleedin' infallibility of your organization?"
"What do you five have in mind?"
"We'll need a safehouse that isn't directly connected with Mossad or the Sheruth Modiin," Katz began. "And we'll need weapons."
The director glanced at the pistols McCarter and Encizo used to cover the Arab prisoner. The Cuban held a compact, double-action Walther PPK, while the Briton had a considerably larger Browning Hi-Power. Both weapons had nine-inch sound suppressors attached to the muzzles.
"Where'd they get those guns?"
"We smuggled them into the country," McCarter replied. "You know how this sort of thing is done. The guns were disassembled and the parts placed into special compartments of large metal objects among our luggage. Metal detectors don't register anything unusual and X rays don't spot any suspicious shapes when there's that much metal all jammed together."
The director nodded. "We can supply you with any other weapons you might need. The selection includes American, British, German and South African guns as well as Israeli-made weapons."
"We might also need a translator," Manning said. "If we're forced to split up, Katz is the only member of the team who speaks both Hebrew and Arabic fluently. I learned a smattering of Arabic when I was in Egypt about twelve years ago, but I'll be damned if I remember more than a handful of words."
"Many Israelis speak English," the director said. "But I'll see to a translator in case you need one."
"And we'll have to get a competent medical team to interrogate the prisoner," Ka
tz said.
"We have to get him to talk," Ohara stated as he held up a pack of Egyptian cigarettes called Rames Special. "We found this in the terrorist's pocket. The cigarettes smell of prussic acid. Cyanide."
"It's a suicide device," McCarter said. "This bloke is a first-class fanatic. He won't break under conventional interrogation. Even torture might not work."
"All right," the director said, "bring him along..."
"Allah akbar," the Arab screamed as he started wildly twisting and turning.
His wrists had been bound behind his back with riot cuffs — a single strip of superstrong plastic. Regular handcuffs can be broken at the chain links by a desperate man with maniacal strength, but riot cuffs will not break; they must be clipped off with bolt cutters.
Everyone was astonished when the prisoner's arms suddenly swung free.
Blood jetted from the stump of the Arab's right arm. The fanatic had freed himself by literally ripping his own hand off at the wrist. The wrist joint had been torn apart by tugging and by violent wrenching; strands of muscle tissue hung from the stump.
Encizo gasped as the terrorist launched himself at the Cuban.
The Arab's left hand grabbed Encizo's fist that held the Walther PPK. The Cuban did not want to kill the captive. The guy would be punished enough by his own people for the rest of his life: the left hand is "unclean" in the Arab world and therefore not to be used, and a one-handed man is marked as a thief. The man still held on to Encizo's wrist. Suddenly he jammed the bleeding stump of his right arm into the Cuban's face.
McCarter rapidly closed in and slammed the frame of his Browning against the terrorist's skull. The madman's head was violently rocked to the side by the blow. He still refused to release Encizo.
The other members of Phoenix Force rushed forward to help subdue the lunatic. Then the report of a muffled gunshot sounded. The Arab staggered away from Encizo. A scarlet stain appeared in the center of his shirt. He tilted his head back and smiled. The smile remained after his bullet-punctured heart stopped and he fell to the floor dead.
"Damnation!" Encizo rasped. "The goddamn psycho pressed his chest into the muzzle and squeezed my finger around the trigger until the pistol went off."
"So much for questioning the prisoner," the Mossad director said.
"Jesus," Gary Manning said, glancing down at the severed hand. "He tore it off like a crazed animal caught in a steel trap. What kind of terrorists are we up against?"
"You already described them," Encizo replied as he unscrewed the silencer from the barrel of his Walther PPK. "Crazed animals."
7
The five men of Phoenix Force drove in the blue sedan along Petah Tikua Jabotinsky to the Diamond Exchange Center. The area was a hive of activity. Jewelers, diamond merchants and freelance miners from at least a dozen countries discussed business transactions in almost as many different languages.
The scene looked bizarre to the four members of Phoenix Force who had never seen the Diamond Exchange before — Sephardic rabbis, dressed in their traditional black suits and hats, mingled with Saudi Arabians clad in keffiyeh and Savile Row suits. Germans, Greeks, South Africans and Japanese dealers in precious gems sat at sidewalk cafes and chatted about current trends in the international diamond-exchange market.
"I see it," Encizo quipped, "but I'm not sure I believe it."
"What you see is a group of diamond merchants," Katz explained. "Some are rabbis, some are Jesuit priests and the Arabs with the green akal on their keffiyeh are Muslims who have been to Mecca for the Holy Pilgrimage. Yet the hajjis get along with the other religious groups and vice versa because they're all diamond merchants. Maybe there's a key to world peace here, eh?"
"This is all quite interesting, Katz," McCarter said. "But what does this have to do with our mission?"
"I've got a friend in this district," the Israeli answered as he steered the sedan onto Derekh Abba Hillel. "He can arrange a safehouse for us."
"What about the one Mossad is going to supply us with?" Encizo asked.
"We can't consider it secure," Katz replied. "I want Mossad to think we'll set up at their safehouse. They won't know about the real one."
"You don't trust your own people?" Manning asked.
"You guys are my people," Katz stated. "As for Mossad, let's just say I trust them less than they trust us."
The sedan had been supplied by Mossad. It was an excellent car with armor plating, bulletproof glass and a sophisticated radio that could be used to receive or transmit to the director's office at the institute headquarters. However, when Ohara swept the vehicle with his radio detector, he found four wireless microphones that Mossad had planted in the car.
"You can't fault them for bugging the car," McCarter said. "We would have done the same in their place."
And when the car was made safe, Manning said, "I think it's time we talked about this mission, Katz."
"You want to know if Brognola ordered this action?" the Israeli asked. "The answer is no."
"So we're really on our own this time, aren't we?" McCarter said. The adventure-loving Briton sounded-delighted with the idea. "Stony Man doesn't even know we're here and we can't trust Mossad."
"Yeah, that's just great," Manning muttered. Clearly he did not share McCarter's enthusiasm for an unauthorized and highly risky mission. "Bolan has fallen out of favor and has turned renegade. Stony Man is probably on the edge and the federal government might cancel the entire operation if they find out we're over here trying to take on the whole Middle East single-handed."
"Not a good time to make waves," Encizo added. "We're really in a mess."
"Phoenix Force is suppose to fight terrorism," Ohara remarked. "Isn't our duty more important than who orders us to the task?"
"Bloody right," McCarter agreed. "We've got a job to do. That's what matters."
"I wouldn't have involved Phoenix Force in this if the situation wasn't critical," Katz told his teammates. "But what other choice is there? Israeli intelligence thinks the Egyptian government is responsible for the assassination attempt on the prime minister. This could easily lead to violence. The Middle East can't stand any more hostilities. I doubt that the president of the United States would be happy to see everything that was accomplished by the Camp David peace talks go down the drain."
"Not to mention the high probability of a war in the Middle East," Ohara added.
"Well," Encizo began, "I'll tell you one thing's for sure — those terrorists are going to try again. They wouldn't have attacked us at the airport unless they wanted us out of the way so they could take another crack at the prime minister." "I agree, Rafael," Katz said. "And if the terrorists do assassinate the prime minister and succeed in framing Egypt for the killing, Israel will retaliate."
"You think Israel would attack Egypt?" Manning asked.
"The government is comprised of a large number of hard-line hawks," Katz replied. "Most of them saw what happened in Europe in the 1940s. Most of them believe Israel has to be tough in order to survive.
"If Israel launches an attack against Egypt," Katz continued, "it would probably ruin any hope of ever having peaceful negotiation with the Arab world in the future. Some of the rabble-rousers would probably even claim the Israelis assassinated their prime minister simply to have an excuse to break the treaty with Egypt. It would certainly result in more violence and bloodshed."
"And war," Manning added. "Israel has gotten a lot of bad press lately. The United Nations has condemned the country's actions in Lebanon and even the United States has been critical of Israel from time to time. The Arabs might see this as an ideal chance to band together and attack Israel in unison."
"Syria and Libya would probably agree to that," McCarter remarked. "Jordan might join the movement — unless they're too busy with another conflict."
"The United States would come to Israel's aid," Encizo stated. "The terrorists are wrong if they think otherwise."
"And the Soviets would back the hostile Arab
s," Manning added. "Whether the Arabs wanted the Russian Bear on their side or not."
"And you can bet your arse somebody would start firing nuclear missiles before long," McCarter stated.
"Any of you read the Bible?" Manning asked.
The question surprised his teammates. Encizo shrugged. "Not for a long time," he admitted.
"I just thought of a passage from the Book of Revelations," the Canadian said. "It concerns the final battle before the end of the world. 'And he gathered them together into a place called in the Hebrew tongue Armageddon.' "
"Well," McCarter quipped, grinning. "I didn't find any place called Armageddon in the ruddy tourist guide."
"Colonel Katzenelenbogen," a voice called from the car radio.
Yakov had removed the stiff, five-fingered prosthetic device in favor of a three-prong hook that resembled an eagle's talon. Katz gathered up the microphone from the radio with his hook and pressed a button.
"Katz here."
"When can you and your men return to headquarters?" the Mossad director asked.
"Something urgent?"
"I think you'll find it of interest," the director answered. "You may also like to talk to a couple visitors from Egypt."
Katz raised his eyebrows. "Indeed. We'll be there as soon as possible."
Katz turned the sedan around in a driveway and headed back toward the Institute of Intelligence and Special Missions. Driving down Hanitsahon Street, Phoenix Force approached a construction site where an apartment complex was being built. A large dump truck suddenly backed onto the road, blocking the sedan.
"Trouble?" McCarter asked as he reached for a briefcase by his feet.
"Maybe," Katz said. He applied the brakes and slowed to a stop.
Encizo, seated next to Katz, snapped open a suitcase containing two Uzi submachine guns with folding wire stocks. Mossad had supplied Phoenix Force with the hardware, and the team had already tested the weapons at an indoor firing range.
Gary Manning unzipped a leather rifle case and extracted an American-made M-16 assault rifle with an M-203 grenade launcher attached to the barrel. Keio Ohara reached inside his jacket for a U.S. Government Issue 1911A1 pistol.
