Time of the Assassins u-6

by Alastair Macneill

  'Farouk?' Graham snorted contemptuously. 'That's Salim Al-Makesh.'

  'What?' Sabrina replied in amazement. 'But he was killed by Israeli commandos in Damascus.'

  'That's obviously what they wanted us to believe,' Graham said without taking his eyes of Al-Makesh.

  'Which only leaves one logical explanation. You're working for the Israelis now, aren't you?'

  Al-Makesh stepped away from the door, his hands dug into his trouser pockets. He nodded. 'It was either that or be killed. It was a question of survival.'

  'Now it makes sense,' Laidlaw said, nodding to himself. 'I couldn't understand why you never showed yourself when you were interrogating me. You knew I'd recognize you straight away.'

  'I wasn't sure whether you would or not,' Al-Makesh replied. 'I have changed my appearance considerably since I was with the Black June but it seems I made the right decision after all.'

  'Who killed Barak?' Graham demanded. 'You or Bernard?'

  'Bernard. I had nothing to do with it,' Al-Makesh said. 'When Barak told him you were in Beirut — '

  'Barak worked for him?' Graham interceded.

  'Barak worked for anyone who paid him,' Al-Makesh replied with a dismissive shrug. 'But he had started to drink heavily in recent months and Bernard felt he had become a liability. So when he heard you were in town he hit on a plan to get rid of both of you. He'd kill Barak and set you up as the fall guy -1 believe that's the term you Americans use. He would knock you out when you went to the house, kill Barak, then dump you in an alley near the Cola Roundabout in western Beirut. All I had to do was go there and arrest you. But when I got there, you'd gone.'

  'Why didn't Bernard just kill me when he had the chance?' Graham asked.

  'And have UNACO crawling all over Beirut?' Al-

  Makesh smiled when Graham looked at him in surprise. 'I have my sources, just like you. But if you were arrested for murder they would have to be very careful not to blow their cover. Any sort of publicity could have splashed UNACO across the front page of every newspaper in the world.'

  'I would have recognized you the moment I saw you,' Graham said.

  'Who would have believed you? The Israeli Mossad would have confirmed that I'd been killed in Damascus. I have a watertight cover for all those years I was with the Black June. The authorities would think you'd finally cracked under the pressure of what had happened to your family. You'd probably have ended up in an asylum.'

  'I could have backed him up,' Laidlaw said.

  'My superiors would have dismissed Graham's allegations about my past as the ramblings of a broken man. But if you'd also been able to identify me then they would certainly have initiated an investigation. For that reason you would have had to be silenced once Graham was in custody. An accident. But when Bernard's plan backfired I needed you alive in case you could lead me to Graham. Which, as it turned out, you did.'

  'Were the CIA in on this?' Sabrina asked.

  'No,' Al-Makesh replied bluntly. 'And neither were the Mossad.'

  'The CIA?' Graham asked, staring at Sabrina. 'What the hell have they got to do with this?'

  'Bernard works for them,' she told him.

  'What?' Graham snarled.

  'She's right,' Al-Makesh said then gestured around him. 'This all belongs to Bernard. It's a meat-processing plant, paid for with money from a CIA slush fund. He's now a legitimate businessman.'

  'And how did the Israelis get you into the police?' Sabrina asked.

  'I was a policeman for twelve years in Jordan before I joined the Black June. It wasn't difficult for me to fit in here. So not only am I in a job I know, I'm also in a position to pass vital information back to the Israelis. It's the perfect cover.'

  'And now you're going to kill us to protect your cover,' Laidlaw concluded.

  'You know too much.'

  'Kill us and UN AGO will be crawling all over Beirut,' Sabrina warned him.

  Til have to take that risk. But even if they do come they still won't find any bodies. There's a beef shipment due out tomorrow destined for Syria. You'll be going with it.' Al-Makesh pointed to a wooden container in the corner of the room. 'Your bodies will be put in there. The container will then be sealed and loaded onto one of the trucks in the morning. Then, once over the border, it will conveniently disappear. Who knows how long it will take before it's discovered?'

  'All neatly worked out,' Graham said facetiously. 'You two must be very proud of yourselves.'

  'This is all my idea. Bernard doesn't even know you're here. We have an arrangement. I use this place if I need to get rid of someone. The blood gets washed away in the morning so there's no evidence to suggest a crime ever took place. And his foreman makes sure the containers are loaded onto the trucks and dumped over the border. No questions asked. All very amicable.' Al-Makesh looked at the English-speaking Arab standing beside Graham. 'Samir, you know what to do.'

  Graham had managed to untie his hands soon after entering the room and lashed out at Samir, catching him on the side of the face with his fist, rocking him back against the wall. The Makarova fell to the floor. Laidlaw, who had also managed to untie his hands, tackled the second Arab. Graham picked up the Makarova and shot the second Arab as he turned his pistol on Laidlaw. Laidlaw's hand was on his Pzzo automatic but he knew he couldn't fire it, no matter how hard he tried. Samir grabbed Graham from behind as Al-Makesh unholstered his Beretta. Graham broke the hold and swivelled Samir round as Al-Makesh fired. The bullet took Samir in the chest. Sabrina leaped from her chair and shoulder-charged Al-Makesh before he could fire again. His gun clattered noisily to the floor. Graham swung the Makarova on Al-Makesh who was still reaching for the Beretta. All the hate welled up inside him as he thought of Carrie and Mikey. He squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. The pistol had jammed.

  'Shoot him!' Graham screamed at Laidlaw who was staring at the pistol in his hand. 'Russ, shoot him!'

  Al-Makesh's fingers curled around the Beretta. Sabrina lunged at him. He swung the gun on her. She kicked out, catching him on the wrist. The bullet was deflected harmlessly into the ceiling. Graham tore

  Laidlaw's Pzzo automatic from his hand and shot Al-Makesh through the head. He was dead before his body hit the floor.

  Graham swung round to Laidlaw and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. 'What the hell were you playing at? Christ, Russ, he was about to kill us and you're standing there admiring the damn gun. What's your problem?'

  Sabrina was quick to intervene and nudged Graham with her elbow. 'Mike, untie me.'

  Graham shoved Laidlaw away from him then turned to Sabrina and untied her hands.

  'Who's the other guy?' she asked, massaging her wrists.

  'Dave Jenkins, he runs the Windorah, it's a bar in the city. He's been hiding me for the last couple of days.'

  Jenkins waited until Laidlaw had untied his hands then approached Graham who introduced him to Sabrina. 'Mike, you deliberately loosened my ropes more than you needed to. Why?'

  'You're not a soldier, Dave. I didn't want to get you involved in the fighting. Also, it was a psychological move. I knew the goon would automatically check to see if our ropes were as loose as yours. That's how we were able to deceive him.' Graham looked angrily at Laidlaw. 'I should have left your ropes loose as well.'

  'You've got every right to be mad at me, Mike. I know I should have told you but…' he trailed off with a shrug and stared dejectedly at his feet.

  'Told me what?' Graham demanded. 'That you've become some kind of born-again pacifist?'

  'Can we discuss this later?' Sabrina said, stepping between them. 'We've got to get out of here. What if someone heard the shots?'

  'Al-Makesh would have taken care of that,' Graham said. 'He would hardly have wanted anyone alerting the authorities, would he?'

  'I guess not,' Sabrina replied then gestured towards the bodies. 'What about them?'

  'They take our places when the meat shipment leaves for Syria tomorrow,' Graham answered.

  'What
if they check the container?' Jenkins asked.

  'They won't if it's sealed. They'll just assume it's us. Come on, let's get them in the container.'

  They carried the bodies in silence across the room and dumped them into the wooden container. Graham then nailed on the lid.

  'Can we get out of here now?'

  'Sure, Dave,' Graham answered with a reassuring smile.

  'We've got to talk,' Sabrina said to Graham. 'Alone.'

  'Come back to the Windorah,'Jenkins offered. 'You can talk there in private.'

  'Yeah, we'll take you up on that, Dave,' Graham said then suddenly looked despairingly at the sealed container. 'Oh God, the keys for the van…'

  'Are here,' Sabrina said, jangling them behind Graham. 'Well, someone had to be alert.'

  'What would I do without you?' Graham replied facetiously.

  'What indeed?' she answered with a questioning glance in his direction before walking to the door.

  Jenkins unlocked one of the bedrooms when they got back to the Windorah and switched on the light after he had crossed to the window to draw the curtains. 'Anyone thirsty?'

  'I'd love a coffee,' Sabrina said, sinking into the armchair beside the window.

  'Make that two,' Graham added.

  'Russell?'

  'Beer please, Dave,' Laidlaw replied.

  Jenkins left the room.

  'You want me to leave as well?' Laidlaw asked.

  'Not until you've told me what the hell happened to make you trigger shy.' Graham sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at Laidlaw. 'Well?'

  Laidlaw's eyes flickered towards Sabrina. She knew. She'd read his dossier. He pulled up the wooden chair from beside the bed and sat down. 'Last year we went into Honduras to help the government troops suppress an attempted coup d'etat by Communist-backed rebels. We'd been there about a week when we got news that the rebel leader and his council would be holding a meeting at a farmhouse on the outskirts of Choluteca — it's a town in the south of the country: rebel territory. We were asked to infiltrate the area and retrieve as many documents as we could from the farmhouse. But no prisoners. Why, I don't know. But those were our orders. Six of us went in. There wasn't a single guard on duty when we got there. That should have alerted us. But, as I said, we had our orders. We launched our offensive just as the meeting was supposed to have started. Three of us went in the front, the other three through the back. We'd been told which room would be used for the meeting so we didn't have to search the whole building. We threw stun grenades into the room then went in firing.' He shifted uncomfortably on the chair and wiped a bead of sweat that ran down the side of his face. 'There were no rebels there. Just four missionaries and thirty-five kids. None of the kids were over ten. Orphans of the war. It only took us a few seconds to realize the mistake but by then twenty-eight kids and three of the missionaries were either dead or dying. Two of the kids and the fourth missionary died later in hospital. Five kids survived. Five out of thirty-five. The rebels blamed the massacre on the government troops and the government blamed it on the rebels. It became just another story from Central America. Nobody took much notice.'

  He rubbed his hands over his face. 'The six of us were immediately flown back to the States to undergo psychiatric treatment. I was the worst affected. I couldn't touch a gun. Christ, I even broke out into a sweat if I saw one on TV. The other guys responded to treatment. I didn't. After six months the psychiatrists gave up on me. So I was retired. It was another six months before I was able to pick up a gun again. But I still couldn't touch the trigger. I wanted to shoot that bastard tonight, Mike. My brain told me to pull the trigger but my finger wouldn't respond. I know I should have told you earlier but I reasoned that if I did you wouldn't want me along; and you needed a guide. You wouldn't have lasted five minutes if you'd gone after Bernard by yourself. They protect their own around here.'

  'Yeah, I know.' Graham stood up and patted Laidlaw on the shoulder. 'I'm sorry, buddy. I only wish you'd told me this earlier. Like when we first met. It would have saved a lot of unnecessary antagonism.'

  'I realize that now,' Laidlaw replied with a shrug. 'But like I said, I didn't think you'd want me along.'

  'I wouldn't have let you off that easily,' Graham said with a half-smile.

  The door opened and Jenkins entered carrying a tray. He placed it on the bedside table.

  Laidlaw took a beer, drank a mouthful, then looked at Graham. 'You guys want us to leave?'

  Sabrina nodded. 'Please. Mike and I need to talk.'

  'Sure,' Laidlaw said then followed Jenkins to the door.

  Graham closed the door behind them then turned back to Sabrina. 'You're here to take me back, aren't you?'

  'Yes.'

  'Then you're wasting your time. I came out here to find Bernard and that's what I intend to do.'

  She sat down then outlined the case to him, careful not to leave anything out.

  'So what you're saying is that Bernard's the only person who knows when the hit on Mobuto's going to take place?' Graham concluded once she had finished speaking.

  She nodded. 'And if you put a bullet into him before he can pass the information on to Bailey then Mobuto's as good as dead. It would almost certainly mean the return of a dictatorship to Zimbala; and the reinstatement of the Security Police. Could you live with that on your conscience for the rest of your life?'

  Graham rubbed his hands over his face then stared thoughtfully at the carpet for some time before finally looking up at Sabrina again. Til make a deal with you.'

  'A deal?' she replied with a frown.

  'You help me find Bernard — '

  'Forget it!' she cut in sharply.

  'Hear me out, Sabrina. If you help me find Bernard I'll wait until he's tipped off Bailey before I kill him. If you refuse then I'll go after him regardless of what happens to Mobuto. Could you live with that on your conscience for the rest of your life?'

  'I don't believe what I'm hearing,' she replied. 'What the hell's the matter with you, Mike? This isn't some game show where you barter with another contestant for the big prize. We're talking about a man's life here. We're talking about the future of a country.'

  'If Bernard gets away after tipping off Bailey he's certain to be given a new identity by the CIA. He could go anywhere he wanted and I'd never find him again. Never.'

  'Let it go, Mike. This vendetta's going to destroy you. You didn't kill Barak; I can vouch for that when we get back to the States. You'll catch hell for coming out here but that will be the end of it. But if you kill Bernard you'll be thrown out of UN A CO. You could even be indicted for murder. Is that what 700 want?'

  'I want Bernard, that's what I want. And if they throw me out…' he trailed off with a shrug. 'Those are my terms, Sabrina. Take them or leave them.'

  'You do what you want, Mike,' she snapped then got to her feet and strode to the door. 'I've tried to reason with you. I should have known better. I'm going to call Sergei and tell him what's happened.'

  Graham grabbed her arm as she opened the door. 'Help me, Sabrina. Please. I don't want anything to happen to Mobuto. But I have to go after Bernard, don't you see that? I owe it to Carrie and Mikey. I owe it to them.'

  She pulled her arm free and walked to the booth, lifting the receiver off the wall. She could hear Jenkins and Laidlaw talking in the bar room below her. At least they were occupied. She dialled the unlisted number, identified herself to Sarah at UNACO headquarters, and gave her the number of the phone to call back. She replaced the receiver and tapped her fingers on the dog-eared directory as she waited for it to ring. Graham appeared at the door. She glanced at him but before he could speak the phone rang. She picked up the receiver and had to identify herself again before she was patched through to Kolchinsky.

  'Sabrina?'

  'Speaking,' she replied.

  'You just caught me. I was on my way home. Any news of Michael?'

  She looked across at Graham, her mind still in turmoil over his ultimatum. She knew i
f she helped him she would be reprimanded, perhaps even suspended. But if she refused, Mobuto's life would certainly be at risk. She had to make a choice. Then she thought of the picture Graham always carried in his wallet of Carrie and Mikey. What price justice if Bernard were allowed to go free?

  'Sabrina, are you still there?' Kolchinsky barked, interrupting her thoughts.

  'Sorry, Sergei, it's a bad line,' she lied.

  'It's very clear this end. I asked if there was any news of Michael?'

  'No, not yet. Why was he set up?'

  'What?' Kolchinsky replied in surprise.

  'You know exactly what I'm talking about, Sergei. I spoke to the policeman in charge of the case this afternoon. He said the N YPD identified Mike by his prints. But they only know him as Graham. He travelled under the name of Green. How could they have matched the prints unless UN AGO authorized it?'

  'We had no choice,' Kolchinsky said at length. 'If the Beirut police had continued to probe who knows what they might have uncovered? We had to protect the organization.'

  'And what if Mike gets arrested? Will UN AGO leave him to rot in some Beirut jail to protect themselves?'

  'He brought this on himself. It was an unauthorized mission.' Kolchinsky sighed deeply. 'No, we wouldn't leave him in some Beirut jail. We'd get him out. Somehow. But don't let it come to that, Sabrina. Find him and bring him back.'

  'That's easier said than done. All my enquiries have drawn a blank so far.'

  'I suggest a change in tactics. He's after Bernard, right? If you find Bernard first you won't have to chase after him any more. He'll come to you. And then you can intercept him before he can get to Bernard.'

  'And how do you suggest I find Bernard? According to Bailey's dossier, his bodyguards are Hezbollah fundamentalists. They're hardly going to take very kindly to a woman poking her nose into their affairs, are they?'

  'They only act as his bodyguards in the Lebanon. He flew out of Beirut last night, destination Habane. He used the name Alain Devereux.'

  'Zimbala? Why?'

  'I don't know. Bailey told me this morning. And he only found out from one of his operatives who had seen Bernard at Beirut Airport last night.'