Retrieval

by Ethan Jones

  Al-Razi shook his head and kicked away one of the chairs as he stomped through the living room and out of the house.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Judaydat al-Mufti Neighborhood

  Inside the Jihadists’ Hideout

  Southeast Mosul, Iraq

  Claudia called Javin to give him the heads-up about al-Razi’s mood, but the gesture proved to be unnecessary. Al-Razi had somewhat calmed down, and then he saw Javin’s bulletproof vest, which had almost been punctured twice. “You’re lucky he wasn’t firing armor-piercing rounds,” the Shia militiaman said. “Otherwise, we would be having a much different conversation.”

  “If I were still able to talk,” Javin said in a somber tone.

  “Yes. So, this dog of a traitor, who was he calling?”

  “Still running the numbers through databases.”

  “So, we have no idea who he was working for?”

  “No, but we have some strong leads.”

  Al-Razi gave Javin a thoughtful nod. “They knew we were coming. This dead dog warned them.”

  “Yes, it seems that way.”

  Al-Razi nodded again. “It makes sense. That’s why I don’t trust Issawi, or anyone working with him.”

  “He has nothing to do with this.” Javin tipped his head toward Issawi standing outside in the alley along with the other police officers. “He was almost killed during the fight with Makram.”

  “Right, but he was one of Issawi’s officers, working right under his nose...”

  “Have you ever been betrayed by one of your men?”

  Al-Razi shook his head. “No, never. I pick only trusted men.”

  “You must be really lucky. No matter how hard one tries, there are always men willing to betray their cause—whatever that might be—for the right amount of money.”

  “Won’t happen to me.”

  “I hope that’s the case.”

  “How did you learn about this location?”

  “One of the refugee camp residents. Huda Yusuf Ghanem—”

  “The ISIS widow? I thought she disappeared.”

  “You heard about it?”

  “Yes, it’s old news now...”

  “Well, she left a note, and her cousin gave it to me. It had this address.”

  “The widow is still well-connected and trusts you’ll find her sister. How’s that coming along?”

  “It’s not. I haven’t heard anything from the camps or the governor.”

  Al-Razi snorted. “I wouldn’t hold out hope on him. Unless there’s some money to be made...”

  Javin look deep into al-Razi’s piercing eyes. “Do you really think he’s corrupt?”

  “The right question is how corrupted is he?”

  “Is this because he’s a Sunni, and there are no good Sunnis?”

  “No, this is because the governor is as corrupt as a smoker’s lungs. And I’m sure there are plenty of good Sunnis. I just haven’t met them yet.” He grinned.

  Javin shrugged. “Yes, so there are two kidnapped women now...”

  “And the ISIS thug is still free.”

  Javin nodded and walked to the window. Its glass, shattered by the gunfire, was scattered all over the living room area. Claudia was talking to Sabri, who was nodding and gesturing with his hands toward the safehouse. “And we’re running out of time. Tonight at midnight. That’s it.”

  “Then what?”

  Javin turned around. “I’ll have to call my boss. Unless this development convinces him to extend my stay in Iraq, I’ll have to pack up and leave first thing tomorrow morning.” He shrugged. “Even if new orders come in, the governor will have to approve the stay.”

  Al-Razi cursed the governor and his lackeys. “He’s not going to do that.”

  “I know, and my boss won’t even try.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “No idea.”

  “I think you need to have people in power with guts, people like you.”

  Javin smiled. “And you know what I think?”

  “I’m the greatest fighter you’ve gone to battle with?”

  “Yes, but that’s not what crossed my mind. I think you should run for governor.”

  “Ha, that’s funny. I wouldn’t make a good politician.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I have no use for diplomacy, or negotiations.”

  “That’s true.” He sighed, then stepped closer to al-Razi. “Again, I’m sorry about what happened here.”

  “You know that you, Canadians, apologize a lot, even when it’s not your fault?”

  “Yes. I know none of this is my fault. But I still feel bad some of your trusted companions lost their lives. They left wives, sons, and daughters behind... That has an impact on me, on all of us, no matter how we feel about it.”

  Al-Razi nodded. “Right. Spoken like a true leader.”

  “I’ve got to talk to Claudia, then call our boss. We’ll let you know how that goes.”

  “Good news, inshallah.”

  “Yes, I hope so.”

  Out in the alley, he met Claudia, and they stepped away from the police officers and the people loitering around the area. When they had found a quiet place, Javin said, “Still no intel about Rania or Ghanem.”

  “What about Liberty? Has she found anything?”

  Javin frowned. “Yeah ... about Liberty. I don’t think I’m going to hear from her anytime soon.”

  Claudia gave him a curious look. “Why? What happened?”

  “Eh ... she found out I’m not a journalist.”

  “What? How?”

  “During the attack on the camp ... She saw me fending off the terrorist attack.”

  “Oh, no. So, she knows everything about us?”

  “I gave her the official cover story, that we’re security advisors.”

  “And did she buy it?”

  “I’m not sure. But she doesn’t want to see me.”

  “Too bad it went this way, but, in a way, it’s better for things to end now before they became serious. She was your girlfriend only in my teasing you about her.”

  Javin nodded. He thought about telling Claudia about the kiss, but then shrugged the thought away. If it was over, and Liberty wanted to have nothing to do with him, then bringing up the kiss was pointless. But if there was still hope—and he deeply wished there was—then he would share the story with Claudia, when, or if, there was something good to share. He sighed, then said, “So, with no leads about the kidnapped women, and with only partially completing our op, it’s time we face the music and give our boss a call.”

  He took out his phone, then glanced around. The nearest people were a group of three young men who were taking selfies in front of the safehouse. Javin shrugged, then gestured at Claudia for the two of them to move further in the other direction. The last thing he wanted was for someone to start snapping pictures of them and those images making their way into the Internet.

  When he was confident he and Claudia were beyond everyone’s earshot and away from prying eyes, he dialed their director’s number. Bateaux picked up right after the first ring, as if he had been waiting with his hand on the phone. “Yes, Javin. Good to hear from you. How are things going?”

  His warm, upbeat voice caught Javin by surprise. He gave Claudia a restrained smile, then said, “We’re doing well, sir. Let me put you on speakerphone, so Claudia can hear you.”

  “Sure, sure. How are you doing, Claudia?”

  “Doing well, Director. How about yourself?”

  “Well, very well, especially now that one of our targets is eliminated.”

  Javin frowned. “How ... how do you know about that?”

  “It’s all over Twitter, Facebook, Instagram ... all over the place.”

  Javin nodded to himself. That’s what those youngsters were doing. It had been less than thirty minutes since the end of the firefight, but that was an extremely long time if measured in tweets and Facebook posts. “Please tell me there are no videos of the
gunfire...”

  “Thankfully, no. Well, nothing has appeared yet, so let’s hope it will continue to be so. But there are plenty of photos and some videos of the aftermath. The burning SUV, the destroyed windows, the blown-up doors. I can even see the color of the living room interior walls. Pale blue. Not my taste.”

  Javin grinned. “Yeah, I don’t like it either.” He shook his head. “The reports are true. We, well, Claudia got the target. I was delayed arriving at the location.” He glanced at her.

  Claudia nodded. “It was al-Razi’s decision and plan. Needless to say, things didn’t go as planned.”

  She gave him an abbreviated account of what had taken place since they left the house where she and al-Razi had interrogated the detained ex-ISIS fighter.

  Director Bateaux asked the occasional clarifying questions here and there, but, for the most part, he listened attentively. When Claudia mentioned the phone and the flash drives she had taken from the jihadists’ hideout, the director interrupted her: “Sorry, I’ve got to tell you this, and then, I’ve got to run. Just received an email from General Director Chan. The minister has asked for an immediate update.”

  “On our operation?” Javin asked.

  “No, no, something unrelated, but which takes priority. So, those phone numbers you sent a couple of days ago… One of our tech wizards pulled a rabbit out of a hat and was able to link one of those numbers to someone in Spain.”

  “A terrorist cell?” Claudia asked.

  “No, and that’s why we ignored the link initially. The number was registered to a young woman, a Spanish citizen, born and raised in Madrid, studying at the Carlos III University of Madrid. One of our agents checked her background, her family, activities, and everything turned up normal.

  “Then something strange happened. The agent became suspicious since the woman hadn’t used the phone in almost a week, extremely unusual for her, since in the days before, she had placed an average of twenty calls per day, at almost every hour of the day and night. So he called the number. Guess who answered the call?”

  Javin shrugged. “I have no idea, sir.”

  “A man, also a student at the same university. He claimed the phone was his, which made the agent even more suspicious. After further tracking, he put two and two together. The man was the woman’s boyfriend, and, apparently, she’s letting him use the phone for a few days, considering she’s on a research trip to the US.”

  “Okay,” Javin said. He was unsure where the director was going, especially since he said he did not have much time.

  “Well, the student in question is from Iraq, Mosul, to be accurate. And he still has family back there. Some well-known people in the area. He’s the younger brother of Police Commander Saido Zweiri.”

  “The police commander?” Javin said.

  “Right. The agent was able to tie the student to the commander, since they called almost every other day. But it’s strange that this is none of the numbers we had on file about Commander Zweiri. It seems to be his personal, very private number. However, this is the same number the governor has been using to talk to the commander. They’ve talked more in the last three days than during the last few months they have both been serving in their positions. And none of the calls have gone through the official numbers.”

  “What has happened in the last three days to warrant such extensive, secretive coms?” Javin asked.

  “I’m sure you’re thinking the same thing as I am, Javin,” Director Bateaux said. “You and Claudia arrived in Iraq four days ago, inquiring about the ISIS leaders. Both the commander and the governor want you out of Iraq ASAP. There have been a number of attempts on your lives, and, while there’s nothing to connect these officials to those actions, I wouldn’t exclude the possibility.”

  Javin nodded. He did not like the turn of events, but he was glad the CIS cyber security teams had made a breakthrough. What excited him even more was the confident tone in Bateaux’s voice. Compared to the last time they had spoken, it was a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.

  Bateaux continued, “If we find out that the governor or the commander are behind these attacks, they made a grave mistake, which will not be tolerated. I cannot have supposedly friendly officials targeting the men and women dispatched there to assist them, in a way to correct a situation they’re incapable of fixing on their own.”

  “So, what are our orders, sir?”

  “Considering your time in Iraq is almost up, and the staunch opposition from the governor and other Iraqi officials, for the time being we’ll take the high road. Let’s follow the money trail to Switzerland.”

  “And the second ISIS leader?”

  “I’ll run these new phone numbers through our databases, and see if the CIA or the NSA have any records. I’m sure we’ll find out what happened to him, and you’ll still have your chance to go after him. For now, refocus all efforts on the Geneva operation. Find out who’s behind that account, who owns the money, and how they’re connected to the terrorists.”

  “We’ll do that, sir.”

  “Good. Now, I’ve got to run. But text me any questions.”

  “Sure thing. Hope it goes well.”

  “Yes, good luck,” Claudia said.

  “You too. Bye now.”

  Javin glanced at Claudia, then looked around. “Well, it seems we’re leaving all this behind.”

  “I can’t say I’ll miss it. It will be nice to be back in Geneva.”

  “Even after all that happened the last time we were there?”

  Claudia shrugged. “This time is different. We’re on a sanctioned mission. I’m looking forward to a long, warm bath, with running water, followed by lobster and a bottle of Chardonnay.”

  Javin smiled. “I think that can be arranged.”

  Claudia returned the smile, then tipped her head toward the safehouse. “Let’s tell our friends we’re out of here.”

  “I’m not sure how al-Razi will take it...”

  “He’ll be glad we’re out of his hair.”

  “I’m not sure. We’re getting along quite well.”

  Claudia shrugged. “If he only got along that well with Issawi too...”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

  He had taken only a couple of steps when his phone rang. It was Tom. “Yes, you’re on your way back to Mosul?” Javin said.

  “No, still in Erbil, but I got something about one of those numbers you gave me.”

  “Which one?”

  “The police officer that almost killed you in the car.”

  “Yes.” Javin nodded and instinctively brushed his hand against the tear in the front of the bulletproof vest. “Who was he talking to?”

  “You’ll be as surprised as I was when I first heard about it. He was talking to Police Commander Saido Zweiri.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Judaydat al-Mufti Neighborhood

  Inside the Jihadists’ Hideout

  Southeast Mosul, Iraq

  Javin frowned. “This commander, he’s a popular guy...”

  “Yes, everybody’s talking to him,” Tom replied. “Makram called him ten times in the last twenty-four hours alone.”

  “This is what I don’t understand,” Claudia said, “Why would Makram overreact when caught in a lie? All right, he wasn’t talking to his brother, but to the police chief. What’s the big deal?”

  “Commander Zweiri is not his supervisor. They don’t even work in the same station,” Javin said.

  “Still, his overreaction puzzles me.”

  Tom said, “Maybe Makram panicked and decided the only way out was to fight...”

  “Or it could be the content of the call,” Javin said. “Makram suspected we could find out what he had told Commander Zweiri.”

  Claudia nodded. “Yes, that’s more like it.”

  Javin shrugged. “In any case, we’ve got orders to move our op to Geneva.”

  “Great. I’ll activate our assets. When are we leaving?”

 
“As soon as we can.”

  “There’s a flight to Istanbul later this evening.”

  “We can’t go through Turkey,” Javin said.

  “Why?”

  “Irreconcilable differences with the Turkish secret agency.”

  “Oh, I thought Canada and Turkey were on friendly terms?”

  “We are. When they don’t try to kill us,” Claudia said.

  “I see. Vienna then?”

  “Sure. Let’s do that,” Javin said. “But we can’t fly directly to Geneva.”

  “Trouble with the Swiss FIS?” Tom said, referring to Switzerland’s Federal Intelligence Service.

  “Something like that.”

  “All right, I’ll get us three tickets just to Vienna. I think there’s a flight tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes, we’ll be in Erbil tonight, so that will work.”

  “Great. Now, do you have anything new?”

  Javin told Tom about the intelligence received from Bateaux and how the Governor of Ninewa and Commander Zweiri had a private line of communication. Tom promised to pull some strings with the NSA and tap those phones, in case Bateaux’s request had not received the attention it merited. Javin then ended the call and glanced at Claudia. “Well, things are falling into place.”

  “It looks that way.”

  They headed toward the hideout and saw al-Razi hurrying toward them. “Where were you?”

  “Back here. Needed to make a call.”

  “Well, I’ve got some bad news.”

  “What is it?”

  “The ISIS widow is dead. Residents found her mutilated body outside Mosul, not far away from the camp. I guess someone settled that account.”

  Javin clenched his teeth for a long moment, then said, “You don’t sound very upset about it—”

  “I’m not. She had it coming. You know how many women she beat up or ordered to be beaten?”

  Javin shrugged. “No, I have no idea, but she tried to help us. Now, since you’re not upset, that can’t be the bad news.”

  “It’s not in itself. But her death, and the disappearance of Makram, have reached the governor’s ear. He and Police Commander Zweiri have a few questions for you, and all of us...”