by Bryan Murray
Maybe because Davies had spotted the hint of animosity between Jake and Bostwick of the CIA at their last meeting, the CIA Regional Director had been conspicuous by his absence over the past few days. They were all recapping on progress to date, now that Jake and Sarah at least had an ‘identikit’ sketch of both Akeem and the dark-haired guy. They also had a CCTV image of both of them, extracted by the FBI boffins, one of the dark-haired guy at the embassy gate and one of Akeem as he ran by the restaurant, so they at least had an idea of what the enemy looked like.
All the pictures of the two terrorists had been circulated to Jerusalem, Tel Aviv and all Mossad units, as well as all CIA and FBI data banks, but unfortunately, they did not arrive in Israel until after the two men being sought had cleared Israeli immigration and disappeared into thin air. Also, back in the US, ballistics were making no progress on identifying the gun used by Akeem from the bullet removed from Daniel’s brain. The forensic sweep of the woman’s car that Akeem had stolen had also yielded nothing.
What really surprised Jake, was that from the massive data banks of both the FBI and the CIA, there had still been no match as yet with the images of Akeem and the dark-haired guy, after they had been fed into the respective mega-computers.
CHAPTER 17
Jake Donovan, Jake’s maternal grandfather in the UK, slim with white hair in his seventies, was pruning roses in his back garden in a small village in the outskirts of the City of Cheltenham, when his wife Edith, a sweet, grey-haired old lady, called him from the open window. “Phone, Jake!” she shouted.
Jake looked towards her. “Who is it?”
She smiled. “It’s your grandson!”
Jake put his pruning shears down. “I’ll be right there.” he made his way back to the house, his German Shepherd Dog, Bessie ambling along at his side. Jake and his grandson didn’t speak very often on the phone, but when they did, Jake Sr. knew it was something important. He went inside and sat at the kitchen table, picking up the phone that Edith had left for him.
“Hello, Jake!” he began.
Jake replied. “Hi, Gramps, How’re you doin’?”
The old man smiled as he replied. “Much better now I’m talkin’ to you, son. What’s goin’ on?”
Still out in LA, Jake had felt that another expert opinion on his current assignment wouldn’t go amiss and he realized that his grandfather was already guessing that he needed his opinion on something.
“I’m in Los Angeles at the moment, Gramps, on a special assignment.” he began.
The old man thought for a moment. “What kind of assignment?”
“It’s a long story, Gramps,” Jake replied. “Can you spare a few minutes?”
Jake Sr. had a knowing look in his wise, old eyes. “Of course, son, I’m listening?”
For the next few minutes, Jake explained the scenario he was involved in and his grandfather sat and listened, didn’t say a word. Finally, Jake asked him. “What d’you think, Gramps?”
The old man had absorbed every word that Jake had told him. Having previously worked for MI5, the UK equivalent of the FBI, he was more than familiar with both the stage and the actors on it, that Jake had been describing.
Jake Sr. took a deep breath. “Something’s not right here, Jake. I don’t buy this claiming responsibility by e-mail. It’s not the terrorist style. Particularly if you say these same guys came back later by phone denying responsibility.”
Jake was in agreement. “That’s what Sarah, my partner said from the beginning. These terrorists like the world to know what they’ve done and TV is a way of doing it.”
The old man nodded in agreement. “Right, so what you’ve got to ask yourself is, why would anyone carry out these heinous acts and try to disguise their identity by blaming it on known terrorist groups?”
Jake was on the same wavelength. “Exactly, and with every target being an Israeli- owned target, even if it was located in the US, who is the real target? I’ve been hearing a lot lately about ‘hidden agendas’ and this sounds just like it!”
His grandfather thought for a moment. “Correct, so first you need to decide who the real target is, the Yanks or the Israelis, and once you get that figured out, you’ll need to ask yourself, what’s the motive for these attacks?”
Jake could see the old man’s logic. “You’re right, Gramps, thanks for the input, mums the word, okay?”
The old man replied. “Of course.”
Jake ended the call. “I’ll keep you posted, Give Nana a hug for me okay?”
Jake Sr. was clearly concerned. “Will do. Bye, Jake and watch your back, son. These are some real bad asses you’re dealing with.”
“I will, love you, bye.” Jake rang off and turned to Sarah who had been listening to the call. She smiled. “Sounds like you get good advice from your grandfather just like I do. What did he say?”
Jake thought for a moment. “He said once we figure out who the real target is, the US or the Israelis, then we need to find a motive for the attacks.”
She smiled. “You sure he didn’t specialize in behavioural studies?”
He gave a wry smile. “Could be, those guys in MI5 are pretty smart.”
There was a knock on the hotel room door and Jake instinctively grabbed his Glock. “Who’s there?” he asked.
A voice answered. “Agent Joseph Cohen, Mossad for Mr. Harrigan.”
Jake unfastened the lock. “Just a second.” he opened the door, the gun still behind his back as the young Israeli entered. He was medium height, thinning at the temples, slimly built. “Mr. Harrigan, Ms. Schaumberg?” he inquired.
Jake smiled. “That’s us, come on in.”
The young man came in. “Thank you, sir.” he replied
“What do you need, Joseph?” Jake asked.
Joseph explained. “I’ve been assigned by Minister Golchen to be your liaison officer, following the sad death of Agent Weismann.”
Jake and Sarah exchanged glances. Jake was the first to speak. “Welcome aboard, Joseph, I wish it was under better circumstances.”
Joseph nodded, “Me too, Mr. Harrigan.”
Jake quickly touched him on the shoulder. “Please, just call me Jake and this is Sarah.”
Joseph nodded. “Very good, Jake. I wanted to let you know we have a charter flight for Tel Aviv scheduled for first thing in the morning, if you can both make it?”
Jake nodded. “That should be no problem. We’re just finishing the report for Minister Golchen.”
Joseph walked back to the door. “Great, I’ll pick you up in the lobby at 6.30. Good night.”
Jake shook his hand. “Night.” After Joseph left, Jake turned to Sarah. “We’ve only about an hour’s work left on the report, so let’s grab a bite before we finish it and then hit the sack.”
Sarah nodded. “And let’s hope by morning, we have some news on identifying these two assassins.”
Jake gave a wry smile. “Don’t hold your breath!”
CHAPTER 18
David Mischner was a Prime Minister under siege. It seemed that every day a new terrorist catastrophe was happening at a time when his administration was hoping to implement many far reaching changes that he and his recently deceased brother had spent a lot of time in planning.
With the latest spate of horrendous incidents, Mischner’s popularity rating was at its lowest since he took office and it was as he was contemplating possible strategies to bolster his acceptance ratings in the polls, that he received a call from President Parker in the US, an old and trusted ally.
“Good morning, David,” Parker began. “I just wanted to touch base to let you know that our teams over here are working around the clock to try and bring these madmen to justice.”
Mischner was grateful. “Thank you, Stephen and thank you for allowing my team into Los Angeles to try and help.”
Parker continued. “No problem. The reason I’m calling, David, is to confirm that in spite of the problems we are having with these unfortunate incidents, I a
m still determined to visit Jerusalem for the scheduled signing of the peace accord, with the other heads of state in the region,”
Mischner was pleased. “That’s good news, Stephen. Our respective teams have worked very hard to make sure this historic event continues as planned.”
Parker was in agreement. “Exactly, so, let’s hope our teams of investigators make a breakthrough in the pursuit of these murdering fanatics. Goodbye, David, I look forward to seeing you in Jerusalem.”
Mischner thanked him. “Me too, Stephen and thanks for the call, goodbye,” he put the phone down and gazed pensively out of the window, talking to himself. “You’ve got to find these people, Ari. The whole world’s watching!”
In the defense ministry offices in Tel Aviv, the team of Minister Golchen were scanning all the data coming in from the US and a young agent, Rebecca, was monitoring her screen as the first pictures were received from Peter Davies of Akeem and the dark-haired guy, after the FBI techies had polished up the images of both men.
Rebecca quickly printed them off and rushed them over to Minister Golchen’s office. Ari quickly scanned the pictures into his computer and called in his Senior Agent Isaac Svirsky, his resident IT genius.
Isaac, looked in his early twenties, thin, with glasses and crinkly, unruly, straggly hair, a typical nerd. “Yes, Minister, how can I help you, sir?” he asked as he joined the meeting.
Ari showed him the pictures of Akeem and the dark-haired guy. “These pictures came over the wire from our friends in the FBI. I need you to check for a match in our data base of possible hostiles. There has to be a match somewhere, Isaac.”
“Very good, sir,” Isaac replied. “I’ll get right on it.”
He left quickly as Ari heaved a sad sigh. “How many more precious people have to die, before we get these criminals?” he called in his secretary Naomi, an older woman, slim, her hair greying at the sides. “I want these pictures circulated to every airport, seaport, bus station, train station, even gas station across the country. Any sightings of either of these men, must be notified directly to me immediately.” She nodded in confirmation and left.
With regards to the minister’s latest instructions, they were a little too late in being relayed to all the frontier outposts of the country, in view of the fact that Akeem had already cleared immigration in Tel Aviv and he was already on his way to an inconspicuous safe house in the suburbs of Jerusalem.
He had been picked up by one of his men at the airport and as they drove up to the gates of the house in front of a small courtyard in the mountain village, the gates were opened as if by magic by a man looking out through the small spy hole. Akeem climbed out of the car and the man who had opened the door, who smiled and greeted him, was the dark-haired guy! They went inside quickly.
CHAPTER 19
Two hour’s drive from Tel Aviv, into the Negev desert, the incredibly beautiful Desert Winds Hotel and Spa, was located on a spectacular ridge on the edge of an azure blue, water-filled volcanic crater. This was the location chosen by the Board of Directors of the huge International Bank in Tel Aviv, to hold their annual director’s meeting and retreat, such was the affluence of the large financial institution.
Along the picturesque desert highway, leading up to the resort, the two extended limos drove along with the directors on board, with black SUV’s in front and to the rear containing their bodyguards. Inside the limos, both the executive and non-executive directors, comprising some of the top management brains in Israel, were enjoying an en-route libation and hors d’oeuvres as they approached the resort area.
Ahead, in the rear parking lot behind the resort club house, the white truck of the janitorial company rolled up for its daily visit. The staff of the hotel gave a cursory glance at the two uniformed employees getting out of the truck. They unloaded their trolley and headed into the building as part of their regular duties to clean the executive suite that included the elegant conference room for the upcoming director’s meeting.
The hotel staff would have paid considerably more attention, if they had seen the bodies of the two original employees in the back of the truck, each with a bullet between the eyes, their uniforms now being worn by Akeem and the dark-haired guy!
They made their way discreetly towards the conference area, just as if they did this every day. They ignored other staff around and started to empty trash bins and unwind the cords of their electric carpet cleaners, until they were finally on their own.
Once they were no longer being watched, the dark-haired guy diligently carried out the work they were supposedly contracted to do, as Akeem busied himself setting the massive charge of C4, with a remote detonator attached, and attaching it to the underside of the conference table in the elegant conference room. The green light on the detonator indicated that the charge was armed.
The two men quickly concluded their routine duties and wheeled their trolley back to the truck, before casually driving away down the road from the resort, just as the arriving convoy of directors passed them in the opposite direction, still drinking champagne, totally unaware of what lay ahead.
On arrival at the resort, the executives were met by the senior hotel staff and escorted to the refreshment area, outside the conference room, as the bodyguards took up their positions in the corridor outside. The board meeting was scheduled to begin at 2.00pm and after further imbibing on quality wines with caviar, the executives sauntered into the conference room.
Down the desert highway, the janitorial truck pulled off the road next to a parked car. Inside the truck, Akeem looked at his watch to see it was now 2.15 pm. He removed the remote detonator from his pocket, looked across at his partner and they both nodded in agreement as Akeem pressed the button.
Out by the pool in the resort, other guests were lying in the sun, sipping exotic drinks, when suddenly, the peace and quiet was shattered by the massive explosion as it blew the second story wall out of the conference center in a shower of debris and flames.
Inside the hotel it was suddenly absolute chaos and there were bodies littered everywhere, some dead and some drastically injured and people were screaming in agony. The damage was so bad in the area of the conference room, that it was obvious that no one had survived. Out by the pool, the surviving guests were gathered in shock and the uninjured resort staff were desperately trying to call out for help.
Watching the scene from way down the highway, as the pall of black smoke rose into the porcelain blue desert sky, Akeem and his accomplice looked on, a satisfied look in their eyes. They climbed into the car alongside the janitorial truck and drove back towards Tel Aviv. In the back of the truck, the flies were already gathering around the bodies in the back and the majestic Griffon vultures were circling ominously overhead.
CHAPTER 20
When Minister Golchen returned from a light lunch, he was met at the door to his office by his very nervous secretary, Naomi. He could see in her face that it was bad news. “What now, Naomi?” he inquired.
The woman looked to be in shock. “I’m afraid this time it’s the International Bank, Minister, There’s been a massive explosion, people killed and injured. It’s terrible!”
Ari was in shock, wondering how many more things could go wrong in this latest sequence of events. “Get me the senior staff together, my office ten minutes. I want a full briefing!” Naomi nodded. “Yes, Minister.” she went quickly back to her office.
Ari turned to his senior aide Agent Brenner. “Get over to the corporate office of the bank, here in the city, Ephraim. Find out exactly what happened and where.”
Ephraim nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Ari added. “Check the CCTV footage. Surely something will give us an idea of who did this!” He continued towards his office, his mind in a whirl. Now, whoever was carrying out these heinous attacks, they were really making it local, with the bank explosion being the first attack on Israeli soil! The second he arrived back in his office, he placed a call to Jake and Sarah, who were getting ready to l
eave LA and return to Tel Aviv.
Jake came quickly on the line as Ari started to explain the latest tragedy. “Hello, Mr. Harrigan, this is Minister Golchen.”
Jake looked across at Sarah, a curious look on his face. “Yes, sir, what can we do for you?” he replied.
Ari wanted to break the news gently. “I’m afraid we’ve had another incident, this time in Israel!”
Jake looked shocked. “What happened, Minister?”
Ari explained. “There was a bombing at the annual meeting of the International Bank here in Tel Aviv. It was at a desert resort and the entire board of directors and some of the resort staff were killed!”
Jake was incredulous. “Do you think it’s the same people, sir?” he couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. Banks were usually paranoid about security, especially that of their senior staff.
Ari thought a moment. “I’m not sure, Jake. They must have had excellent intel to know that the meeting was being held away from the bank at a desert resort, where security would not be as intense. The entire board were in session when the explosion went off.”
Jake looked at Sarah, shaking his head in amazement. “I’m so sorry, minister. We should be there first thing in the morning,” he was thinking out loud. “Can we see the CCTV tapes from the resort when we land, sir?”
Ari smiled wistfully, realizing that Jake was on the same wavelength as himself. “Already being organized. We will see you soon.”
Jake could sense the heavy load on the minister’s shoulders as he rang off. ‘Yes, sir.” As he put the phone down, Sarah was trying to piece together what was happening.
Jake shook his head incredulously. “Now those bastards are working on Israeli soil. Explosion killed all the directors of the International Bank, out at a desert resort. This is a major change in direction we need to think about!”
Sarah nodded. “Right, it’s like they’re now telling us that in case we weren’t sure if it was the US or the Israelis, there’s no doubt about it - its anti-Israeli terrorism!”
