Tess Awakening

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Tess Awakening Page 8

by Andres Mann


  “Did you say that he might have been involved with the gassing of the Kurds?” Jake asked. It may provide us with some leverage.”

  Tess was overcome with sadness, thinking of how Kejal sacrificed herself to help her escape. “The girl’s mother is dead; it all depends on whether we can find evidence that he was involved in the massacre, and whether he feels any guilt about it.”

  “That’s a lot of ‘ifs,’“ Jake observed, “but it’s the only leverage we may have.”

  Tess stood up. “Let’s go to Istanbul, and see what happens.”

  Jake logged out of the computer and added that they would need a better plan that that. “What kind of plan, I have no idea.” They left the library in silence.

  Walking back to their room, Jake asked, “Have you thought about what you are going to do with the child if she gets released?” Tess stopped walking. “I haven’t gone that far yet.”

  Chapter 13

  Istanbul

  General Amir Alkan al-Saadi walked out of a stately office building. He had visited a friend who was a Turkish government minister. They had discussed the invasion of Iraq, and the likely consequences of the conflict in the region.

  Amir was contemptuous of the naiveté of the Americans, the absurd notion that so-called democracy would be a desirable goal in the Middle East. Arabs never had democracy. Throughout history, the cult of the strong leader had been impressed upon them. He just could not see how any other political approach would be desirable or acceptable with tribal societies with customs and attitudes far removed from the modern world.

  The history of Iraq defined turbulence and interference by the Western powers. In 1920, Iraq became a League of Nations mandate under British control. The British established the Hashemite king, Faisal I of Iraq, who had been forced out of Syria by the French, as their client ruler. British authorities placed selected Sunni Arab elites in government and ministry posts.

  Britain granted the Kingdom of Iraq independence in 1932. A succession of weak Kings followed until 1941 when a Coup d’État overthrew the government. During the subsequent Anglo-Iraqi War, the British (which still maintained air bases in Iraq) invaded Iraq for fear that the new government, with its links to the Axis powers, might cut oil supplies to Western nations.

  Upon restoration of the Hashemite monarchy, a military occupation followed. The occupation ended in 1947, although Britain was to retain military bases in Iraq until 1954. A succession of autocratic Prime Ministers during the occupation followed.

  In 1958, another coup d’état ended the monarchy. In July 1979, the succession of ruling Generals ended when General Saddam Hussein took over. Ever since, Iraq was held together as a nation by his iron fist. Just as the British had done, he assured the domination of Sunnis in the government and suppressed the majority Shiites and Kurds. These three peoples just can’t seem to work together. They are forced to coexist in an artificial country.

  Now that Iraq has been conquered by the Allied Coalition, it will need to be governed. In his estimation, Amir feared that the task would not be easy. He had little faith that a competent successor to Saddam was available. The situation did not portend well.

  Anticipating the worst, Amir had removed the most important family heirlooms from the house in Iraq, and distributed them among his houses in Istanbul, Paris and London. He was prepared to lay low until a clear indication of how things would develop in Iraq.

  Due to his influence, he obtained assurance from Turkish authorities that he would be welcome to stay in the country. After all, several of his ancestors had been Generals and Ministers of the Ottoman Empire, and his family had owned a mansion on the Bosporus for two hundred years.

  Amir’s car arrived at the mansion, and he dismissed the driver. He walked through the house to the garden, toward a woman and a child reading a book. The girl saw him and raced toward him giggling with delight. “Uncle Amir!”

  He picked her up and received a hug from the girl. “I have missed you, uncle Amir,” she cooed. Are you going to stay?”

  Amir kissed the child on the cheek and swung her around in a pirouette, enticing giggles of delight. He brought her inside and showed her some toys he had bought for her.

  The girl jumped out of his arms and started to open the presents. While she was occupied, Amir went back to the garden and met the head of his guards. They inspected the grounds, walked around an ornate fence on the perimeter of the property and discussed security arrangements, maintenance, and routine matters.

  He had dinner alone, thinking of a strategy that would make sense in the current chaotic world. Should he just abandon Iraq, or should he try to return? If so, what role should he seek? Would it be better to retire into a comfortable life of leisure?

  At last, he pondered an important question. What will he say to Aara about what happened to her mother?

  Chapter 14

  Interlude

  On the way back to the Pensione in Naples, Jake went to the Turkish Consulate and paid for two Visa documents required to enter the country.

  In the morning, Jake and Tess took a cab to the airport and flew to Istanbul.

  Looking at the city from the window of the plane, Tess was amazed by the size of the city, and the many instantly recognizable historical monuments.

  Jake, as usual, accessed his encyclopedic mental resources to recall basic information about Istanbul. “The city was founded around 660 BC as Byzantium. In 330 AD, it was reestablished as Constantinople and for nearly sixteen centuries it was the capital of the Roman and Byzantine empires. The Ottomans conquered the city in 1453 and transformed it into an Islamic stronghold and the seat of the Ottoman Caliphate.”

  Tess wondered if long term, she could stand living with an encyclopedia.

  Upon landing, they quickly passed customs and took a cab to a safe house, courtesy of the CIA. Tess never ceased to be amazed at Jake’s ability to arrange for necessary things. They climbed the stairs to the second floor. Jake picked up the key from the top of the door frame and presented Tess with a beautiful, large apartment with two bedrooms and a comfortable living room. Jake volunteered that sometimes, the place accommodated up to five persons. Tess knew better than inquire about what five CIA agents would be up to in Istanbul.

  The apartment was located on Millet Street, which was within 10 minutes to major city sights and ideally situated to take advantage of two metro stations nearby.

  “If we find the time, we will see some of the great attractions in the city,” Jake volunteered. We can go to the Sultanahmet District; this area is fantastic if you are interested in history. Tomorrow, we can go see the Blue Mosque, the Cistern, and Hagia Sofia, wander around and have a snack and a break. After that, if you’ve got any energy left, we can go see Topkapi Palace, the Hippodrome, and the mosaic museum.”

  Tess smiled. “History can be exhausting.”

  Jake tried to contain his enthusiasm. “When I am in an interesting place, I become obsessed, and can go on being a tourist until everyone else drops.”

  “Please don’t count me in,” Tess said while hanging her clothes. “Don’t forget what we came here for.”

  “Darn,” was his reply.

  Jake grabbed Tess by the waist and kissed her. “I promise that I will not exhaust you, at least not in that way. Let’s go get something to eat.”

  On the way down to the street, Jake explained that Istanbul is famous for its street food. “The local restaurants, called Doner, are always good for fast and cheap food. If we go to the right places, the food can be quite good.”

  Tess smiled again. “And Mr. Vickers always knows where to go.”

  Jake sensed a slight dig, but he did not take it to heart. “I can’t help it. Wherever I go, I am compelled to sample the local food, and there is an amazing variety here.”

  The entrance to Istiklal Street contained dozens of small Doner restaurants that served almost around the clock. As usual, Jake’s enthusiasm prompted the display of an encyclopedic knowledge of
Turkish food. He started to point at the various offerings of the shops and street vendors.

  “We have tons of choices:

  “Balık-Ekmek is a sandwich with one small fried fish, slices of tomatoes and onion.

  “Hamsi. In fall and winter, the Black Sea Anchovy migrate through the Bosporus. A classic serving is a handful of deep fried fish with raw onion and bread. Eat the fish whole, it’s a winner.”

  “Patso is a sandwich consisting of a hot dog and French fries. These are very popular and are usually served in small buffets along the coast. This food is cheap, and you would think it’s not very good, but it is actually tasty. These places are open 24/7, and they serve around one thousand sandwiches per day. The profit margin is low, but they make a fortune on volume sales, so they don’t have to lower the quality too much. Hamburgers are sometimes a problem, don’t touch those in Uskudar, but definitely try the spicy hamburgers in Taksim).”

  “Here we go again, the Encyclopedia at work.” Tess was working hard to keep up.

  “You can also have Kumpir, which is a snack or a full meal. It originated in Albania, but today it is unique to Istanbul in its present form. Basically, it’s a baked potato with various fillings such as grated cheese, mayonnaise, ketchup, pickles, sweetcorn, sausage slices, carrots, mushrooms, and Russian salad among others, any of which you can add to or omit from the mix.”

  Tess interrupted him. “Wow, slow down! I am getting dizzy.”

  “Sorry,” said Jake. “If you don’t mind I will order for you!”

  Since Tess had no idea of what to choose, she agreed.

  They sat for dinner. Tess had to admit that the exotic fare was tasty. In between bites, she inquired “I didn’t know you could speak Turkish.”

  Jake started to provide the usual exhaustive exposition of the subject but desisted. “I can learn languages in one or two weeks, enough to speak functionally, anyway.”

  “You really are dangerous,” Tess observed between bites.

  “No worries, my dear, I am on your side.” Jake responded. “I find the study of languages fascinating. One interesting fact of the Turkish language is that in 1928, as one of Atatürk’s Reforms in the early years of the Republic of Turkey, the Ottoman script was replaced with a Latin alphabet.”

  “I guess that the CIA finds you useful,” Tess noted.

  Jake jokingly responded, “Yes, but I can’t talk about how useful. I would have to kill you afterward.”

  Back on the street, Jake reenacted his exposition of food options.

  “The street stands sell the local ice cream dondurma. We don’t want to miss this. It has orchid root extract, which gives it an incredibly chewy and stringy texture. Try it!”

  They purchased cones of the delicacy and continued their survey of food offerings.

  “Jake, I don’t feel so good,” announced Tess. Actually, she was perfectly fine; she just had enough of lectures about exotic foods. Jake was perceptive enough to detect that Tess was nowhere near sick, so he ceased talking about food.

  On the way back to the apartment, Jake retrieved a message from the reception desk. It was a sealed envelope from his contacts. They now had a confirmed address of General Alkan al-Saadi in Istanbul; time to get to work.

  Chapter 15

  Confrontation

  A cab dropped Jake and Tess on Yeniköy Caddesi, one of the loveliest streets in Istanbul. Two long lines of tall Platanus trees graced both sides of the street.

  The neighborhood is known for its Yalis, houses or mansions most of which were built the seaside, on the Bosporus strait. About 620 waterside residences remain, comprising one of the city’s landmarks.

  They found the large handsome house that according to Jake’s contacts belonged to General al-Saadi. Finely worked wood decorated the exterior, and a pleasant garden enhanced an inviting, peaceful environment.

  Tess and Jack had discussed some strategies and decided that a low-key frontal approach might work. Using no subterfuge, they decided to seek a meeting with al-Saadi. Hopefully, they might be able to persuade him that it would be to his advantage to let the little girl go. At this point, they could not think of any alternatives other than breaking into the compound and kidnapping the child, a very dangerous approach.

  They approached the gate of the house and rang a bell. A uniformed guard appeared.

  “Good day. We would like to see General Alkan al-Saadi,” Jake said in Turkish, his newly acquired language.

  The guard looked at them quizzically. “The General only sees people if they have an appointment.”

  “Tell him that Tess Turner would like to talk,” said Tess. Jake translated.

  The guard was still suspicious. “Wait here,” he said and went back inside the house.

  Five minutes later, four guards spilled from the house and opened the gate. They surrounded the couple and led them to a large reception area.

  A man that appeared to be a butler approached them and pointed at Jake. “You wait here. The General will see Miss Turner only.” The guards dropped their weapons from their shoulders to stifle any potential disagreement on Jake’s part.

  “Jake, do what they say. I can handle this” Tess admonished. The guards seized Jake and made him sit. Jake’s face changed into a stony, menacing stare, his body ready to uncoil and strike like a snake. “Jake, it’s okay.” She turned around and followed the man.

  Tess was led to a large office full of precious period furniture. The General was at the desk. He slapped both of his hands on the surface.

  “Tess, what a pleasant surprise to see you again! Have you come to apologize for giving me an awful headache that lasted for days?”

  “I am sorry I had to do that, General, but I am sure you are aware of the circumstances that made that necessary.”

  “No problem, you are forgiven. Sit, and Tess, please call me Amir.”

  Tess felt herself shuddering, recalling the unpleasant events that she had experienced at Amir’s house in Iraq.

  “General, the war in Iraq is almost over, and I came to discuss how we can deal with an important issue in a civilized manner.”

  Amir was not in a hurry to talk business. “I see that you are still very beautiful, but I miss the dress you wore for me last time. It displayed your virtues splendidly.”

  “Tess, may I inquire on who is the gentleman that is with you?”

  “He is just a guide to help me get around the city,” she explained.

  “Very wise; Istanbul can be a challenging city.”

  Amir pointed at a platter full of delicacies. “May I offer you a peace offering? Some tea, perhaps?”

  “No, thank you General; I am very pleased that you are talking about peace. It gives us an opportunity to discuss what I came here for.

  Amir looked disappointed. “All business and no play; disappointing. I was hoping you would reconsider my offer.”

  Tess came to the point. “General, I came here to discuss the release of Kejal’s little girl.”

  Amir took a small sweet from the table and pulled a chair next to Tess. He took a sip of tea, put the cup down and looked at Tess with intensity. “What possible interest could you have on a child that you have never seen? And what makes you think that I have her here?”

  “She is Kejal’s child, and when she died, I promised that I would make her safe.”

  Amir’s face visibly reflected a mounting anger. “Kejal died because of you! I was fond of her.”

  “Kejal was killed by your men!”

  “It would not have happened if you had cooperated with me. I had offered the world to you!”

  Tess looked at Amir with an icy stare. “All you offered was to rape me!”

  Amir took another sip of tea. “There are many ways of interpreting events. You look at things in black and white!”

  Tess stood up. “Where is the girl?”

  “That is my business, and I am still searching for a reason for why you would want the child. What would you do with her? Put her
in an orphanage? She has no family left, thanks to you!”

  Tess sat again and tried to turn hostility into a dialog. “General, once the war is over, there will be people looking for revenge. Saddam Hussein and his key people will be forced to account for their crimes. You don’t want to be a target as they are. We can help you return to Iraq with honor if you do the right thing and let the girl go.”

  Amir laughed. “You don’t really understand who I am. I have friends in high places here and in Europe. I own politicians that will protect my interests. In any case, there isn’t much of an unsavory nature that they can pin on me. There are too many other people that have committed terrible things. Some may pay the price, but not me!”

  Tess gave him an icy stare. “You used poison gas on Kurdish villages! That’s how you captured Kejal in the first place!”

  “Is that what you think?” Amir shook his head, incredulous. “Where did you get your facts? It seems that you are too quick to believe whatever is said by your press and propaganda.”

  “Are you saying that the massacres did not happen?”

  “Oh, they did, but not the way you think. I don’t have to explain my actions to you, but I will lend a measure of clarity to dispel some science fiction.” Amir retreated to his seat behind the desk and started to talk.

  “Your President Bush invaded Iraq citing as one excuse that Kurds in Halabja, a town close to the Iranian border, had died due to Iraq gassing them in March 1988. This atrocity took place near the end of the eight-year Iran-Iraq war. But the truth is that no one can prove that Iraqi chemical weapons killed the Kurds.

  In a battle, Iraq did use chemical weapons against Iranians troops that had seized the town. The Kurds who died had the misfortune to be caught up in that exchange. But they were not Iraq’s main target.

  “Immediately after the battle, the U. S. Defense Intelligence Agency issued a classified report. They circulated the information to the intelligence agencies on a need-to-know basis. Their conclusion was that it was Iranian gas that killed the Kurds, not Iraqi gas. The Kurds had been killed by a blood agent, a cyanide-based gas — which Iran was known to use.

 

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