The Peace Killers

by Ty Patterson

  It wasn’t just the IDF that had camps in the desert. The U.S. had an air defense base inside the Israeli Air Force’s Mashabim Air Base. There was the Negev Nuclear Research Center, plus civilian establishments, Bedouin towns and villages, and vast arrays of solar panels in the region.

  Magal had eyes for no town or historic ruin. He sat alongside Shiri in the air-conditioned bus that was transporting the twelve kidon to the IDF base, paying no attention to the stark landscape rolling past. Negev means dry in Hebrew, and the view outside the window, once they had left the urban areas, gave truth to the name.

  Flat lands, valleys, dried-out streams, hills and misshapen, rocky outcrops flew past. Magal slept. Or so the other operatives thought.

  The kidon was actually wide awake. He was making plans.

  Today to check out the camp. Tomorrow, to attack.

  Time was at a premium. As was access.

  The bus had cell-jamming technology, and no operative could make or receive calls. All Carmel had told them was that they weren’t going to one of the larger military bases. Their destination was not on any map. Yes, it was an IDF camp, she said when Magal pressed for more details. ‘Sayeret Matkal is based there,’ is all she would say. ‘Your cell phones won’t work there, either. Eliel, Navon, you’re from that unit. You must be familiar with the base.’

  ‘No,’ Navon shook his head. ‘They move bases often. This is a new one to us.’

  Some kidon had protested about the cell phones.

  ‘Mine will work,’ she told them. ‘Abhyan has enabled mine. You have an urgent comms request, come to me. Carter’s and the sisters’ will work as well.’

  A few voices grumbled, but they were half-hearted. All the kidon were mission-experienced. They knew good security protocol when they heard it. They didn’t question why the Americans had special privileges. They had seen how close their director was to them. With access came benefits.

  Magal had anticipated comms challenges. He had made arrangements in Haifa and before boarding the bus, had spoken quietly to Carmel.

  ‘You might get a call from my foster mother’s house.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she responded, concern on her face. ‘I will let you know immediately.’

  ‘I might have to go for a few hours.’

  ‘I am sure we can make arrangements.’

  ‘I will come back, however.’

  ‘You don’t need to, Eliel. I understand the circumstances. Stay with her.’

  ‘This helps take my mind off it. I will return.’

  ‘As you wish. It will be a long ride, however.’

  Haifa was a good three hours away from the base. Six hours of travel both ways. A sufficient window for Magal to travel to Beersheba, which was just forty minutes away, and pick up supplies. He had a network in that city, as he did in each major Israeli one.

  Shiri and I against Sayeret Matkal. A thrill ran through Magal.

  We will win.

  * * *

  Moscow

  * * *

  ‘Yuri,’ Andropov roared when he entered his office.

  The hacker scampered into his office.

  ‘See what’s in this,’ he said, tossing him the thumb drive.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘It’s a thumb drive, durak.’ Fool.

  ‘I know that.’ Yuri looked affronted. ‘What’s inside?’

  ‘If I knew, would I ask you?’ Andropov thumped his desk. A glass of water spilled, and he leaped up to mop it. ‘See what you have done.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  ‘Get out of my office.’

  Yuri departed.

  ‘Wait!’

  Yuri turned around, with a long-suffering expression on his face.

  ‘Send me the files inside that,’ he pointed to Yuri’s fist, ‘before you do anything.’

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Jerusalem, IDF Base

  Eight days after Assassinations

  Three days to Announcement

  * * *

  ‘There was a thumb drive in Raskov’s apartment,’ Andropov told Zeb as he and Beth and Meghan traveled to the IDF base in a vehicle driven by Levin’s aide.

  ‘What’s in it?’ Zeb looked out at the rolling land sliding past his window.

  ‘No idea, yet. My people are checking. I have sent a copy to you. How’s Levin?’

  ‘He’s feeling more confident.’

  ‘Da, I can imagine.’ Andropov bitterly hated traitors. ‘Give him my regards.’

  Zeb turned on his screen and kicked the back of the seat ahead of him. Meghan turned around, flicking back a strand of hair. Her green eyes were sunshine.

  ‘You’re working? This scenery …’ she clicked her tongue in exasperation. ‘It’s breathtaking. The world isn’t going to implode if you take some time to admire your surroundings.’

  ‘Andropov has sent a file. I am forwarding to both of you. Check out what’s inside.’

  ‘Why has he sent it to us?’

  ‘It was in Raskov’s apartment. Did I tell you he was found dead? Knifed?’

  Beth turned back as well. ‘You didn’t. When did it happen?’

  ‘Yesterday. Nope,’ he hurried to answer before the sisters could question him. ‘No clues who killed him. Or why.’

  ‘We’ll set Werner on it.’

  Which took a minute, and then the sisters were back to peering outside the window.

  There was no other traffic on the road. It was a black ribbon that wound through the desert, disappearing into valleys and reappearing in the distance, shimmering in the heat.

  It turned to concrete the closer they got to the base. Check posts appeared at regular intervals as they neared.

  The base sprung out of nowhere, or that’s how it seemed.

  One moment, their vehicle was going down a steep hill, then climbing up again—and there it was.

  A large, walled-off compound that contained squat, ugly buildings, a military trademark the world over. Those will be the accommodation and admin units. There will be training grounds, clubs, fields for war games. Zeb hadn’t been to this particular base, but he had trained in a similar one in another part of the country. Military camps such as this one weren’t that different around the world.

  He suppressed a smile when he saw Beth and Meghan were looking around wide-eyed. It was their first time in an Israeli military camp—and one that was home to some of the best soldiers in the world.

  A stern-faced officer gave them their access cards at an admin building.

  ‘Someone has pulled a lot of strings,’ he said. ‘You and those other visitors have got a free pass to go anywhere. Not many people on this base have that.’ Zeb looked at him sharply. Nope, there didn’t seem any rancor behind his words. He’s stating a fact. Nothing more.

  He thanked the officer and was looking around for directions when a voice hailed them. Carmel hurried across.

  ‘Settled in?’ Zeb asked.

  She made a face. ‘We arrived a few hours back. This place is huge; it will take some getting used to. But yeah, we know our way around the main areas.’

  She led them to another building, a residential one, and showed them their rooms. All on the ground floor. The sisters stowed their gear in theirs and joined the kidon and Zeb in his.

  The room had basic furniture. A table, a couple of chairs, a night lamp, a bed, an air-conditioning unit that hummed quietly, and a wall-mounted TV.

  Carmel spread a map on the table and used a pen to highlight various buildings.

  ‘The negotiators are here.’ She drew a circle around an admin building in the center of the compound. ‘This is where the top brass has their offices. The Israeli and Palestinian teams are secluded in a large conference room. It has steel-reinforced doors and blast-proof walls. Next to it is a canteen that provides them with food, drinks, anything they need.’

  ‘Who cooks for them?’

  ‘One military cook and his assistant. They are assigned exclusively to the
negotiators. The servers are two guards.’

  Zeb looked up skeptically. ‘The guards leave their post to serve food?’

  ‘No. Two guards at the door; these servers are extra. They are stationed at the kitchen.’

  A hallway extended from the conference room for a hundred yards and opened into a central area. More hallways branched out from the anchoring space like spokes in a wheel. ‘More offices.’ Carmel shaded several rooms. ‘Two guards every thirty feet in each hallway.’

  Zeb liked the layout. One could stand in that middle space and keep an eye on the conference room as well as the entrance.

  I’m sure that’s why Abhyan chose that room.

  ‘What about access?’

  ‘That entry gate is the main control. Everyone coming or going is scrutinized, and badges with the right clearances are issued for those entering. Those cards,’ she pointed to the ones around their necks, ‘will gain you entry to your apartment building, to that conference room, to the commander’s office, everywhere.’

  ‘No thumbprint, iris scan?’

  ‘Yes. At the conference room. Thumbprint, though it is usually disabled because of the servers’ frequent coming and going. There’s both thumbprint and iris scan at the armory.’ She pointed to another building, which was set well back. ‘There’s no need to go there, however. We have our weapons, our gear. The IDF soldiers have theirs.’

  There were more buildings on the map. ‘Clubhouse, gym, lecture hall, cinema.’ Carmel identified them. There were large open spaces around the buildings, which Zeb guessed were for the soldiers to train in.

  ‘What about these?’ Beth pointed to rectangular shapes well away from the admin and residential areas.

  ‘Hangars. For choppers. Maintenance areas for tanks, vehicles. We were given a brief tour in a vehicle but didn’t step out. While our passes grant us entry everywhere—’

  ‘You won’t be leaving that main office building,’ Meghan guessed.

  ‘Yes. We are here for just three nights. The grand press conference is the third day from today. We go back to Jerusalem once that is done.’

  ‘Who is the security chief?’

  ‘The base has its own security and military police. However, Moshe Abhyan is the commander here, too, for the security of the conference. You knew he was a Sayeret Matkal officer?’ she said, aiming her question at Zeb.

  ‘Yeah. Avichai and I knew.’

  ‘More secrets, Zeb,’ she smiled disarmingly to negate the sting in her words.

  ‘What’s your brief?’

  ‘What the ramsad gave us. Stay close to the conference room. Eye everyone who comes and goes. Raise the alarm if we recognize anyone.’

  ‘Twelve of you near that room will crowd that hallway. That’s a security risk in itself.’

  ‘Yes. We will be dispersed. We will be in shifts too. There’s a refreshment area here,’ she pointed to the central area, ‘where they serve drinks and food. Many of us will be ranged from that conference room to that area.’

  ‘Windows and exits in that conference room?’

  ‘None. The attached kitchen has an exit. It has a supply room as well, with a window.’

  ‘What?’ Meghan read his expression.

  ‘There should be more exits in the base. Such a large base can’t have just the one.’

  ‘There are,’ Carmel corrected him. ‘They aren’t marked on this map. Our guide pointed them out from a distance. There are check posts everywhere. Someone on foot or a vehicle will be stopped and questioned. And then there are the drones. They mount continuous air surveillance.’

  Beth bounced on the bed, her green eyes narrowed in thought. ‘I can’t see how any killer can get into this place.’

  ‘Or get out alive.’

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  IDF Base

  Nine days after Assassinations

  Two days to Announcement

  * * *

  Magal and Shiri broke away from the rest of the kidon, who were lingering around the central area.

  * * *

  The previous day, Carmel and Abhyan, accompanied by the two watchful security guards, had taken them inside the conference room.

  That occurred because Magal had whispered in Yakov’s ear. ‘Who knows whether there really are negotiators behind that door? That’s what they told us in the Galaxy.’

  Back at the hotel, he had noticed that Yakov was excitable. His verbal nudge did the trick. The kidon had approached Carmel and had demanded to see the negotiators.

  She had eyed him calmly and had then called Abhyan. The security commander was in uniform and cut an imposing figure, but that didn’t cow Yakov. Mossad’s kidon were just as well-trained and experienced as Sayeret Matkal soldiers.

  ‘Carter and you duped us in the Galaxy. We need to see that’s not happening again,’ he said firmly.

  The security chief had taken them without a word to the conference room and had stood back as they entered.

  Twelve heads had risen up in surprise at their entrance. Magal recognized the Palestinians from the handler’s files. He swiftly noted where they sat in relation to the door. They were close to it.

  People tend to choose the same chairs every day, at a conference. Something about familiarity in new surroundings.

  ‘Satisfied?’ Abhyan had asked.

  Yakov had nodded.

  * * *

  ‘Take out your cell,’ Magal spoke softly, bringing out his device as they approached the kitchen next to the conference room.

  ‘It doesn’t work here,’ Shiri hissed, but obeyed.

  ‘Just checking,’ Magal said to the two guards outside the room. The conference room’s doors were twenty feet away, the security detail watching them impassively.

  He and his partner entered the kitchen. The chef was busy in front of a stove. His assistant was chopping something on a sideboard.

  The two servers lounged, chatting with each other. They were in uniform and, as Magal passed, he snapped their pictures swiftly.

  He entered the supply room and saw that it was dark, lit by a single bulb. Rows of tall, stacked shelves extended to the rear of the room. Big freezers hummed at the back. A window at the back. No rear door.

  He and Shiri returned to the kitchen and went to its back door. Magal opened it and stepped outside. There was a parking lot next to the door. A military truck parked in it.

  He went to the vehicle and checked inside. The key was in its slot.

  ‘You got an idea?’ his friend asked.

  ‘Several. That,’ he pointed to the truck, ‘will be our escape route.’

  Shiri looked at it and then at him. ‘How will we get inside the conference room?’

  ‘You’ve seen all the soldiers? All of them were armed. Even the servers.’

  ‘Yes. M16s, Glocks; I saw grenades, too.’

  ‘Their build?’

  ‘Similar to ours.’ Which wasn’t surprising since many IDF personnel and Mossad operatives were similarly sized.

  ‘Hair?’

  ‘That, too.’

  ‘Helmets?’

  ‘On the kitchen counter.’

  ‘You know how we will enter the conference room?’

  ‘I know, now. But getting out of the base—’

  ‘Working on it.’

  * * *

  Carmel approached him at three pm, her face worried. ‘Eliel, there’s a call for you.’

  He took her cell, turned away and cupped it to his ear.

  He adopted a grave expression and nodded silently several times.

  ‘I will be there,’ he said and hung up.

  ‘I need to go.’

  ‘I assumed. I arranged a military vehicle for you.’

  ‘I need it only till Beersheba. My foster family has arranged a ride for me from there. I will return on my own.’

  ‘I thought—’

  ‘She’s hanging on,’ he smiled grimly. ‘She wants to see me.’

  ‘Go.’

  Magal went.r />
  * * *

  Beersheba

  * * *

  He waited at Beersheba until the military vehicle departed and then climbed into the Toyota that his associate had driven.

  Jud Lipman was in his fifties, and with his straggly, white hair, he looked like a university professor.

  He was a master forger, a counterfeiter, a con man, a maker of disguises, and had successfully stayed clear of the law for decades.

  ‘That thing with your mother. It’s not easy, you know,’ he grumbled. ‘I had to record her voice and perfect it so that it could pass most audio tests. I jump whenever I get a call from your organization, checking if she is really ill.’

  ‘You’ve been pulling that stunt off for a while now, pretending to be my foster mother or someone close to her, attending to her.’

  ‘It’s difficult, rerouting the calls so that it looks like I am replying from Haifa.’

  ‘You don’t complain when I pay you.’

  That shut the old man up. He drove them inside the city, past office buildings and warehouses. He entered a gated, dilapidated building and called out a name at the squawk box. The iron gates opened silently.

  ‘No one’s inside,’ he grunted. ‘Voice recognition and iris scan at the box.’

  Lipman took him up a rickety elevator and opened a door at his floor. The office was in stark contrast to the outside of the building. It was sleek, hi-tech, and had several pieces of equipment Magal couldn’t identify.

  He recognized the 3-D printer in the corner and a kiln the forger still used for his fakes.

  ‘You need something?’ Lipman drew his attention. ‘I figure you haven’t come here to greet me.’

  ‘I need face masks.’ Magal brought out his phone and showed the pictures he’d taken of the servers. ‘Exact replicas.’

  ‘That will take time. Days.’