by Ethan Jones
“Sure.” Vassily gestured at Bogdan following closely behind them. “Take the Merc.” He tipped his head toward a box-shaped black Mercedes-Benz parked across the street.
Sharp sirens came from the distance. They were getting closer by the moment.
“I’ll drive,” Vassily said after shoving Schmidt into the backseat.
“Sure.” Javin tossed him the keys.
Vassily hit the gas, and the SUV rocketed down Rue Schaub. It went through the school’s parking lot, then Vassily turned behind the school, on Rue Louis-Favre.
Javin said, “Here’s good.”
“How did you clue in we were SVR?”
“Educated guess. There’s little going on outside Russia without the involvement of the SVR...”
Vassily cocked his head toward Javin and snorted. “I’d like to think so myself, but we both know that’s not true. There are many thugs, truly Russians, or who claim to be Russians, who run their own operations.”
“Right, but none of them would dare to kill someone with strong SVR ties.”
“Again, I’d like to believe that, but that’s not always the case. Although it did work for you.”
Javin shrugged. “I’m a lucky guy.”
“You are.”
Vassily glanced in the rearview mirror at Schmidt shifting uncomfortably in the backseat. “What’s wrong?”
The banker hesitated for a moment, then said in a low voice, “I ... I have to go to the washroom.”
“Hold it.”
“Okay.”
“Bogdan said Schmidt works for you,” Javin said. “What did he mean?”
Vassily frowned. “Bogdan has a problem keeping his mouth shut. I’ll tell you what I can, when he’s not around.” He gestured at the banker.
Javin nodded. He glanced through the window and noticed Tom’s white Audi sedan rounding the corner and coming toward them. It was followed by the Mercedes-Benz, which Javin assumed carried Bogdan and the other Russian. A couple of seconds later, two white-and-orange police SUVs barreled through Rue de la Servette. “We just missed them.”
Vassily nodded. “Good. It’s never good to shoot at the police.”
He listened for a long moment and, when the sirens had wound down, he put the SUV in gear. “We can go now. And figure out what to do next.”
Chapter Thirty
SVR Safehouse, Rue Chandieu
Geneva, Switzerland
The SVR safehouse was a nondescript apartment on Rue Chandieu, three blocks north of the Russian Consulate. The apartment was on the third floor and sparsely furnished, but it had a couple of man-size vaults built into the walls. It did not take a lot of imagination to figure out the contents of the vaults. The Russian team obviously had not expected to bring “guests” to the safehouse, as a wide array of paperwork and weapons were scattered over two large desks in the living room. Bogdan and the other Russian agent, who had not been introduced, cleared it all before Javin, Claudia, and Tom were allowed into that area of the apartment. They sat across from Vassily and Bogdan, while Loger and Schmidt were ordered to wait in one of the guest rooms, watched over by the third Russian agent.
When they were gone, Vassily said, “Now, tell us: why are you after Schmidt?”
Javin had anticipated the question and had prepared an answer. Specific, but without divulging details that might be used as leverage at a later moment, especially if the Russians decided to play hardball and disallow the US-Canadian team to join the operation. “We’ve tied him to a money-laundering network, funneling ISIS money out of Iraq and into European banks. Schmidt was about to give us intel on Marley, one of the terrorists and account owners.”
“Marley? Never heard that name,” Vassily said in a firm voice and with a shrug.
“That’s not his real name.” Javin pulled out his cell phone and found the picture of Schmidt dining with the man with blond dreadlocks. “We’re talking about this guy.”
Bogdan said, “Oh, he goes by the name of—”
Vassily cut him off. “We’ve had him under close surveillance for a long time, and we know his true identity.”
“Well, ‘Marley,’ to go by his nickname, is a minor player in this laundering scheme. He’s tied to the dirty money coming from Mosul. Marley might be the one transporting the money, but we know who is behind the money flowing toward Geneva.”
“Who is that?”
“Senior officials in the Iraqi government. We’ll give you the specifics once we’ve decided on our operation.”
Vassily shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. “There is no our operation.”
“This is purely an SVR job, and you’re not taking the credit,” Bogdan said.
Javin leaned closer to the Russians. “Look, I couldn’t care less about the credit. All I want is to catch this guy, like you do.” He gestured with his finger toward the phone on the desk. “And we’ll be more efficient if we worked together and shared intel, instead of working against one another.”
A skeptical look remained on Vassily’s face.
Tom said, “We have accurate intel about the Iraqi part of the scheme. We know who’s ordering the money transfers, who is providing protection and covering the tracks as the money moves across the border with Turkey and makes its way into Europe.”
Javin nodded. “You have Marley’s real identity and know everything about the European portion of the ISIS network. It only makes sense to pool our resources and cut off this network for good.”
Vassily cast a sideways glance at Javin. “And you want no credit at all in this operation?”
Javin nodded. “That’s correct. I don’t know how much Mila told you about who I am and what I do... But I’m a corrector. I’ve done my job well if no one learns I was ever here...”
“She mentioned something along those lines.”
“So you know I have no other agenda here. We both want the same thing. If you let us into your op, you’ll reap all the benefits.”
Vassily grinned. “You make it sound like such a great offer that I’d be a fool to refuse…”
Javin returned the grin. “I’m glad you see it that way.”
“Well, not quite. Before I make a decision, I need to assess your intel.”
Javin nodded. “Yes, yes, by all means. It will come as no surprise to you to learn that the man in charge of these money deliveries is someone very powerful within the Iraqi security system.”
Vassily nodded. “Yes, that goes without saying.”
“Right, but the identity of the officer may be unknown to you…”
“We have a few suspects,” Bogdan said.
“That’s really good, because you’ll know if the man we’re talking about is on that list. He’s Police Commander Saido Zweiri.”
Bogdan’s eyes turned into small slits. “That snake…”
Vassily nodded. “Yes, he’s one of the suspects.”
“And you have concrete intel about his involvement?”
“More than concrete. It’s rock solid. Confirmed by more than one Iraqi source and more than one foreign agency.”
Vassily said, “Okay, Zweiri is involved, but, like you said, this is not really a surprise. We had him on our list, and, sooner or later, we’d have gotten to him ourselves.”
“Of course you would.” Javin said. “But do you know who Zweiri’s master is? The one who is in charge of this entire operation?”
Vassily nodded. “We have some names.”
“Right. But I’m sure you don’t have the one I’m going to give you.”
Vassily made a gesture of impatience with his hand. “Go on, then…”
“After you’ve confirmed our role in the—”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“Then how does it work? I give you everything we have and get nothing in return?”
Vassily held Javin’s fiery gaze. “Do you want a part of this op or not?”
“Do you want this intel or not?”
A tense pause foll
owed for a long moment. Vassily’s and Javin’s eyes were locked in a stare-down. Finally, the Russian grinned. “Mila warned me about you being a tough guy.”
Javin said nothing.
Vassily said, “All right, Javin. Your team will be a part of the operation, but will serve only as backup, in case we need extra men—and women,” he smiled at Claudia, “on the ground.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
Vassily stood up and walked to the window. “It’s time for me to give you some intel. This man you call ‘Marley,’ the blond guy, his real name is Muhammad Fawzi. He’s an Iraqi, who was born in Egypt, and who has Swiss citizenship. Fawzi is coming tomorrow to Geneva to make a new deposit.”
“Like he has done in the past four weeks,” Claudia said.
Javin said. “After you finish with Fawzi, we’ll give you all we have.”
Vassily said, “Fawzi is bringing about ten million dollars. Cash. Small, untraceable denominations of Swiss francs, Euros, and US dollars. They’ve tested the Credit Bank with smaller amounts, and now that they feel comfortable, they’re making their largest deposit to date. And now, we’re going to make our move.”
“And what is that?”
Vassily grinned. “The name first.”
Javin knew this moment would come, so, without hesitation, he said, “It’s Governor Hussein Khaznadar.”
“What?” Bogdan said. “The Governor of Ninewa?”
“That one,” Tom said.
Vassily shook his head. “I have to give it to you, Javin. I wasn’t expecting Khaznadar.”
“I have the evidence to back up my claims.”
“I’m sure you do. When will we receive it?”
“Right away.” Javin reached for his phone. “I’ll email you all the files I have so far. Others will follow, since we haven’t scanned them yet.”
Vassily nodded. “Send them to Bogdan. He’ll give you the address.”
“I’ll type it there,” Bogdan said and gestured toward Javin’s phone.
After he was finished, Vassily continued, “So, Schmidt is scheduled to meet with Fawzi tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. The banker has access to the VIP side entrance to the main branch. He’ll arrive around 9:30 and deactivate the security cameras. We’ve given him the software and have trained him for that purpose.”
“That’s impressive,” Claudia said.
“I have a question,” Javin said. “How did you get to Schmidt to begin with?”
Vassily shrugged. “That’s irrelevant, but it took some persuasion. The banker wasn’t a hard target.”
Javin nodded.
Vassily said, “So, once Fawzi and his cronies arrive, we move in and capture them all. Depending on how many there are—and we’re expecting no more than six, since he usually arrives with two associates—we might bring you in. But there will be eight of us, and we have the advantage of the ambush, so your services most likely won’t be needed.” Vassily offered them a wide grin.
Javin wanted to say that he doubted everything was going to go according to that simple plan. Instead, he said, “Just let us know what we need to do.”
“Sure, we’ll run through a couple of scenarios. Fawzi has been careful, but the banker has gained their trust. We don’t expect much resistance, but, like you say, ‘Any resistance will be futile.’”
Javin shrugged. “I don’t say that, and I also don’t underestimate the opposition.”
“Neither do we,” Vassily said. “We’ll have measures in place to account for every eventuality. If Fawzi or his cronies become suspicious, we’ll spring the trap inside the bank, where they’re the most vulnerable. Usually, Fawzi goes in with just one guy, while the second, the driver, waits with the SUV ready to go.”
“What if it doesn’t even get to there?” Tom asked.
“What do you mean?” Vassily said.
“If Fawzi or one of his guys smells trouble and tries to make a run for it?”
Vassily shook his head. “I don’t know why that would happen, but we’ll have a team outside the branch, just in case. And that could be your assignment.” He gestured with his hand first to Javin, and then to Tom.
The CIA agent nodded. “I’d rather be on the inside team. They’ll see most of the action.”
“I’m sorry, my American friend. That’s not going to happen.” Vassily’s voice rang with mock regret.
Tom shrugged. “You’re in charge.”
Javin noticed a strange spark in Tom’s eyes. It looked like the CIA agent said the words, but he did not mean them. I’ll have to talk to him. He may not like being bossed around by the Russians. I don’t like it either, but we’re working with them, and we’ll have to make this op go smoothly.
Vassily said, “Once we have Fawzi, we’ll interrogate him and pry the confession out of him. When he has confirmed your intel about the commander and the governor, then we’ll take care of them.”
“How?” Tom asked.
“That’s none of your concern.” Vassily returned to his seat and gestured at Bogdan. “Call the rest of our team so that we can make concrete plans. I want this to go without any problems.”
Bogdan nodded and left the room.
Javin said, “Of course, the last thing we want is the Geneva police on our back.”
He glanced at Tom, and the CIA man’s eyes still had that strange spark.
Chapter Thirty-one
Three Blocks Away From Credit Bank of Geneva
Rue du Mont-Blanc
Geneva, Switzerland
Javin had decided to keep Tom close, under constant watch. The CIA agent had expressed his objections about the inferior role the Russians had assigned to them, especially after Vassily’s insistence that any money retrieved from the operation would go to them. Considering the level of intelligence that the Americans and the Canadians brought to the table, Tom felt they were not getting a fair share. He had agreed with Javin that they were not to do anything to sabotage the operation, since capturing Fawzi and connecting him to the ISIS network was more important than anything else. However, the spark of “defiance,” as Javin had labeled it, remained in Tom’s eyes.
They had been waiting for the arrival of Fawzi and his associates for almost half an hour. It was fifteen past ten, and, Fawzi had never been more than five minutes late. On that occasion, he had called Schmidt, to inform him of the delay. This time, there had been no such call.
As the backup team, Javin and Tom were sitting in their grayish Fiat Strada mid-size truck parked three blocks away from the Credit Bank of Geneva on Rue du Mont-Blanc. The traffic was scarce on this cold, drizzly Saturday morning. The truck’s wipers barely kept up with the heavy raindrops splashing the windshield. Javin glanced at the intersection in front of them. No vehicles or pedestrians. The first Russian team, composed of Bogdan and two other men, was positioned further up the road, to the truck’s right. They were going to be the first ones to lay eyes on the guests, but, so far, they had reported nothing.
Javin turned his head toward Tom, who was fiddling with the steering wheel.
He nodded at Javin and said, “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Because of the delay?”
“Yes, that’s very unusual.”
“True, but delays happen.”
“They will come, we can be certain of that,” Vassily’s voice came into Javin’s push-to-talk earpiece.
Vassily and his men were inside the bank. Fawzi’s team would have to drive along Rue de Chantepoulet, then go through the intersection monitored by Javin and Tom, and make a right-hand turn before parking behind the bank.
“What if they came from another direction?” Javin said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Vassily replied. “We’re monitoring the parking lot in the back. Whichever way they come, we’ll see them.”
Javin turned off the microphone on his earpiece and gestured for Tom to follow suit. When he did, Javin said, “Look, no games when Fawzi shows up.”
Tom frowned. “Jav
in, we went over this. It’s all good.”
“I know. I just want to make it absolutely clear.”
“It is absolutely clear.”
“We can’t afford a conflict with the Russians.”
“Message clearly received.”
“Good.” Javin turned on the microphone. He rearranged the earpiece, straightening the transparent wire, when a crackle came on the radio, followed by Bogdan’s voice, “Fawzi’s here.”
Javin sat up straight in his seat and glanced at Tom, who returned a small smile.
Bogdan said, “Red Jaguar SUV followed by a black BMW sedan. Fawzi is in the Jag along with two other men. Looks like his regular crew. Four henchmen in the BMW.”
Seven men, not bad, Javin thought.
“Is everyone ready?” Vassily asked.
“Can’t get any readier,” Javin replied.
“We’re good,” Claudia said.
Along with Loger, she was stationed further back along Rue du Mont-Blanc. They had a direct line of sight to the bank’s VIP side entrance.
Vassily said, “Everyone knows their orders. Remain calm and still until they enter the bank. Then we move in on Fawzi and his gunmen. Bogdan and his team will neutralize the rest of Fawzi’s crew. If support is needed, they’ll request it from Javin or Claudia. Is it clear?”
“Copy that,” Javin said.
“It’s clear,” Claudia said.
“I repeat, no one make a move until after they’ve entered the bank.”
“All right, got it,” Tom replied in an annoyed voice.
Javin shook his head, but said nothing.
A red Jaguar SUV appeared at the end of Rue de Chantepoulet, two blocks away. A moment later, it was followed by the black BMW sedan. “Here they are,” Tom said. “We’ve got visuals on the targets.”
“Very good,” Vassily said.
The SUV was coming up fast to the intersection.
Tom drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, then gripped it tight.
Javin looked at Tom. “Where do you think we’re going?”
Tom hesitated for moment, then said, “Nowhere.”
