by Uzi Eilam
“That requires a developer and manufacturer who know how to work with gallium nitride components,” Rogel said. “Would it be possible to contact an American source?” His gaze turned to Deutsch.
“I wouldn’t recommend relying on American companies,” Deutsch responded. “Too much time would go by before we receive authorization from our Department of Defense and State Department. Let me remind you of the crisis that developed between Israel and the United States over defense export to China. You, Gideon, were somewhat involved in the negotiations initiated to resolve the situation. You might think we overreacted, and it might be true to assume that the American defense lobbyists are too powerful, but that’s the reality we’re dealing with.”
“I believe that both Singapore’s and Israel’s technological relationship with Taiwan won’t raise any objections from the Americans. In addition, I have General Tan’s promise to help us establish a connection with the industries there,” Gideon said.
“If we’re having no luck with American companies,” Rogel said, “we could contact the WIN Corporation in Taiwan. It’s a company known for its freedom from political constraints in regard to advanced electronic components. Are you sure we can count on Tan’s connections, Gideon?”
“We’ll raise the subject with him and see what he says. But before we approach him, Dan, why don’t you show us what kind of information you’ve collected about the activity of the two generals, Razek and Ja’afari, in Kuala Lumpur?”
“I don’t have a lot of new information, Gideon. I’m convinced that if the IOT system were already deployed, I could have received a lot more information in a lot less time. In the meantime, I know about a report from Ambassador Ja’afari to Tehran about his progress in smuggling people into Singapore. From the partial information we have, it turns out that the head of the Malaysian intelligence agency is in close contact with the ambassador. General Razek’s reign of terror encompasses not only his own people, but many members of the government in Kuala Lumpur as well.”
“In the interest of full disclosure, as the lawyers put it,” Gideon said, “I should mention that I’ve already met Anwar Razek. When I was a student at the Technion Institute of Technology, I was sent to participate in a seminar organized by the International Student Alliance. It was generously supported by the United States government, Deutsch, which saw it as an entry point into Southeast Asia.”
“What’s the connection?” Dan asked.
“The seminar took place in Kuala Lumpur, and one of the participants was the leader of the Malaysian Students’ Global Alliance at the time. His name, as you’ve probably guessed, was Anwar Razek. This young student stood out for his talents, his eloquence, and his charismatic leadership. I wasn’t won over by his pretty words. He seemed a bit fake to me…”
“And you think, Gideon, that our current general was once this brilliant student?” Rogel asked.
“I’m quite sure of it, but you and Dan could easily verify it.”
“My conclusion, my friend,” Deutsch said, “is that those two generals should be deemed a high-priority surveillance target. What else do we know about these two, Dan?”
“Hold on a second. I’m accessing the file that contains all our information on the generals,” Dan replied, typing swiftly on his keyboard. The other three men tracked his actions alertly, maintaining their silence. Ja’afari’s medical file appeared on the screen, revealing that the man had been suffering from diabetes for years.
“We have to dig deeper into these immense databases,” Dan noted. “Rogel is the expert on looking into giant databases, using Big Data technologies.” David Rogel’s gaze shifted to encompass Gideon and Deutsch, and he nodded in confirmation.
“And what do we know at this stage?” Gideon persisted.
“General Ja’afari has to watch himself when it comes to food and physical exertion,” Dan replied, scrolling through the information on the screen. “His diabetes is the kind that requires constant use of a tubed pump that provides the body with an ongoing supply of insulin.”
“That’s sophisticated medical equipment,” Deutsch said. “There’s no doubt they purchased it in Europe.”
“I suggest updating General Tan on this finding, as well as bringing up the importance of opening the doors to the microelectronics industry in Taiwan. It’s important to receive authorization from state leaders to use their industries and facilitate the supply of micro components for the system Dan is working on,” Rogel said.
All four expressed their consent, and Rogel volunteered to set up an urgent update meeting with the help of Damia, the defense task force coordinator. Dan continued to sit in front of the new system’s screens, unable to decide what to do first. Suddenly, he perceived the task before him as weighty, nearly impossible.
Chapter 19
Ronit entered the bank wearing a flattering pantsuit. The short hair she had taken care to style contributed to her jaunty appearance. She stopped at the floor on which Osman’s office was located, glad to see he had already arrived. She was eager to hear Muhammad Osman’s opinion on the meetings in which she had participated in Hong Kong, hoping he could help her make sense of the information she had collected. Ever since she’d started working at the bank, she’d felt that Osman had been particularly attentive to her. Their connection had persisted even after she had been appointed to manage the private banking department. Despite her surprising promotion, Ronit still felt like a newcomer to the bank. She felt that she owed a lot to Osman, who had welcomed her when she first came to the bank, making her feel she belonged in its employees’ inner circle.
“Good morning. You look all bright eyed and bushy tailed.”
“Well, it might actually be because I’m so busy.”
“Being busy can be a good thing, if you manage it wisely,” Osman said.
“Speaking of wisdom, I need some advice, and I hope you can help me. Remember when we discussed my trip to Hong Kong? You recommended that I contact Fang Chok Tong, the manager of the Bank of China’s Hong Kong branch.”
“And I know you’ve flown to Hong Kong. What did you find there? What do you know now that you didn’t know before?”
Ronit was tentative. “A whole lot… and nothing.”
“Okay, I see this is something weighty that we can’t discuss here and now. How about if, instead of the espresso I wanted to offer you in the hospitality nook here, we meet for dinner? My treat.”
“At the end of the work day?” Ronit was uncertain. She was intrigued by the brilliant, distinctive young man and attracted to him, but she didn’t want to get carried away. Osman picked up on her hesitation and did not try to coerce her in any way.
“I was thinking of a quiet, mellow restaurant serving Chinese-Malaysian cuisine. It’s in the Eastern Coast area and, if you agree, I can pick you up from your place.”
Ronit overcame her hesitation. “Thanks, Osman, I’d really like that.”
“Seven o’clock?”
“Sure, it’s a date.”
Throughout the day, Ronit thought repeatedly of her dinner date with Osman. She tried to focus on her questions relating to the world of banking and the accepted protocols in Asia, pulling out the little notepad that she always carried to review the main points of what she had learned in Hong Kong. She then turned her attention to the questions that had remained open after her last meeting with old Mr. Fang, the manager of the Bank of China’s Hong Kong branch. The image of handsome, dark-skinned Osman, with his seductive smile and piercing gaze, surfaced in her mind again and again. What was her connection to the young foreign man who had become such a sudden, intense presence in her life? Wouldn’t the fact that she was now a part of management further complicate things? And how would she avoid revealing the contents of the cyber defense meetings, which she had sworn not to expose to anyone? She tried to convince herself it was only her need for some good advice that had motivat
ed her to accept his dinner invitation.
Osman remained in his office after Ronit went up to the management floor, forcefully suppressing his desire to roar with joy. The lovely Israeli who had seemed unattainable had agreed to go out with him. He mentally reviewed the information he had acquired about finance in China, preparing to answer Ronit’s questions and to impress her with his knowledge. His curiosity in regard to the bright, pretty young woman with the green eyes and the direct gaze was still burning strong. The fact that Ronit was an Israeli appealed to him, and he wondered about her relationship with the other Israelis currently in Singapore. He was particularly interested in her connection with Dr. Gideon Ben Ari. Based on the hints he had heard from his childhood friend, Damia Nur, about what had taken place in General Tan’s office, Osman understood that the Israelis were involved in many confidential affairs.
***
“Good evening, Ronit.” Osman leaped from the car to open the door for her. He surveyed her light green dress, matching the color of her eyes. “We’re on our way to a restaurant called 328 Katong Laksa, in the eastern part of Singapore. I thought we’d go for a quiet, understated place with a special cuisine you probably haven’t been exposed to yet.”
“I’m not familiar with it, and it sounds promising. What else can you tell me about the place?” Ronit asked as the car took off, merging into the traffic on the eastern-bound highway.
“The restaurant is located in the area where I was born and raised,” Osman replied. “Most of the residents used to be lower-class people, mainly Malaysian. The restaurant combines the Chinese and Malaysian cuisines, and I hope you like it.”
They continued to drive down the road. The number of other cars decreased the further they went. Ronit began to wonder where Osman was taking her. Soon they approached a two-story structure built in traditional Singaporean style. The large sign declaring “328 Katong Laksa” was clearly visible. Osman quickly maneuvered the car into a parking spot near the entrance, hurrying again to open Ronit’s door for her.
“This is where I grew up.” Osman pointed at the old structures next to the restaurant. “But the apartment buildings you can see on the left here are not the luxury high-rises in the heart of Singapore. Those complexes were only constructed in the last few years. The government chose not to invest much in the low-income population, and there’s particular discrimination when it comes to the Malaysian minority. My apartment is in one of those new buildings, not far from where my parents live.”
“One of these days, you’ll have to tell me how you managed to make it out of here.”
Most of the people at the restaurant were Singaporeans who had arrived from near and far. Based on the handshakes and back slaps that Osman exchanged with the people around them, Ronit got the impression that he was a regular.
The first course served was laksa, the restaurant’s signature soup. Osman told her this dish had granted the restaurant a high ranking among Singapore’s affordable restaurants offering a unique cuisine. The rice noodle soup was spicy, and the noodles cut in a way that enabled the diners to use only a spoon, without needing chopsticks. The laksa noodle soup contained shrimp and clams, with the addition of coconut milk somewhat balancing the heat of the spices.
“This soup is amazing,” Ronit marveled. “So this is what you grew up on?”
“In my mother’s kitchen, we only enjoyed meat and seafood on holidays and on New Year’s Day. In addition to cleaning rich people’s apartments, my mother managed the household, raised five children, and took care of my father’s parents. In the kitchen, she observed the rules of Islam and, on the rare occasions when she could serve meat, she took care to observe Islam’s prescriptions of halal.”
“How could you study in conditions like that? Did you have somewhere quiet to do your homework?” Ronit asked.
“Although our place was crowded, I could do my homework in a quiet corner, and everyone knew I shouldn’t be disturbed. Often, though, I’d go to the home of a girl in my class, Damia Nur, who lived in the neighborhood, and we had better conditions for studying there. We were the only Malaysians in our class, and we both excelled at school, which made the other students jealous. We supported each other, and so we remained friends all through our studies, until we graduated.”
“And where is she today, this girl from your class?”
“Ahhh… she majored in engineering, and after earning two degrees in systems engineering from Nanyang Technological University, she joined the Ministry of Defense and attained some impressive achievements there. Today she runs the Technology and Communication Department at the National Security Institute. I, on the other hand, majored in economics and finance. We keep in touch, and see each other when our various occupations allow it.”
The grilled otak-otak fishcakes, served wrapped in banana leaves, were a true delicacy, and Ronit couldn’t refrain from asking for seconds. The aromas and flavors almost made her forget the topic she had wished to discuss with Osman in order to hear his opinion and recommendations. She waited until they were served dessert—rojak, a vegetable and fruit salad in sweet and spicy sauce—before transitioning to work matters.
Osman returned to the matter at hand. “So tell me, what came up during the meetings with the bank manager in Hong Kong? What kind of reception did he give you? What will he be willing to do?”
“Mr. Fang is an impressive man, and I was sorry to find out he only speaks Mandarin. The conversation did flow, with the help of one of Fang’s young assistants, who translated for him, but it wasn’t the same. Even now, I’m not sure to what extent Mr. Fang took advantage of the mediation of the translation process as a means of controlling what he was willing to say. He listened to me very attentively, and it was clear to me that he understood English well. At the conclusion of our two meetings, he recommended that I exhibit caution in my attempt to gain entry into these new areas, and said that the Chinese leadership might see them as a means of attaining information that might harm the Chinese economy. Mr. Fang Chok Tong promised to look into it and provide guidance on who might be willing to dialogue with me. My impression was that he knew I was from Israel as well as other personal details about me. It’s unclear to me whether the fact that I’m an Israeli is an advantage in regard to the path I want to take.”
Ronit paused briefly when they were served cups of fragrant green tea. She saw that Osman was listening to her, his eyes constantly fixed upon her face. The warm beverage washed away the combination of flavors that had accompanied the meal, leaving Ronit with a clear, fresh feeling.
“What do you think I can take away from what Fang said? Should I wait until he gets in touch?”
“China is very sensitive about international competition and any challenge to its financial power,” Osman replied. “They’re willing to accept investment ventures from Singapore, but it’s important that you know that they’re still critical of Singapore and of Singaporean investors, who patronized them during the first few years after China opened itself up to the world of Western economics.”
“So the fact that I’m representing a Singaporean bank might be an obstacle?”
“Not necessarily, but you’ll have to think carefully about whom to approach first. This is where Mr. Fang’s recommendations could prove useful, if he or the managers in charge in Beijing decide to cooperate.”
“I really hope it actually happens. Shall we raise a toast when it does?”
“Ahhh… it would definitely be good if you had a reason to celebrate. You probably noticed they don’t serve alcoholic drinks here.”
“I did notice, and thought it was for religious reasons.”
“I myself no longer observe the rules of Islam, and I have a variety of drinks at my apartment. How do you feel about ending our evening with a preemptory drink to celebrate your future success?”
Ronit was still vacillating between her initial apprehensions about forming
a relationship with Osman and her curiosity. She wondered whether the questions she described to herself as still unanswered were a real need or an excuse to allow herself to cut loose. She knew she couldn’t share any cyber-related issues with Osman. Her lucid reasoning told her she must take care not to expose the bank’s secret involvement in this area even to Osman.
Muhammad Osman’s bachelor pad, on the building’s top floor, was not large but had been designed to make smart use of the space at his disposal. Ronit followed Osman in, surprised to find the place so clean and tidy. She sat on the sofa across from a giant western-facing window, watching the variety of lights emanating from the city’s towers spread out before her. For the first time since arriving in Singapore, she felt at peace. For the first time in quite a while, she allowed herself to act freely, without monitoring every move she made and every word she spoke. She was engulfed by an ease of sorts, whose source remained unclear to her. The clatter of dishes sounded from the direction of the small kitchen, and Osman soon appeared bearing two drinks and a bowl of roasted peanuts and almonds.
“I suggest we toast with some Spanish dry sherry,” Osman said. “That seems appropriate to me after our diverse small-plates menu tonight.”
They sat on the sofa, clinked their glasses of sherry, and viewed the nocturnal city through the window. Ronit looked straight ahead, feeling Osman’s body heat radiating. He extended his arm slowly, wrapping it around her shoulders. She sat quietly, allowing Osman to continue stroking her cautiously, experimentally, before moving to increase contact with the young man, whose stroking became more rapid. He kissed her temple lightly, and once she turned her face toward him, kissed her lips gently. Their breathing accelerated and they united in a long kiss, their tongues probing each other. Ronit couldn’t remember the way from the sofa to the bedroom, or how their clothes flew off. Osman was attentive to the motion of her body, his touch gentle. They clung to each other until attaining the perfect connection. The rhythm of their movements was harmonious, increasing gradually. Their moans filled the space of the room until the climax arrived as if of its own volition. Ronit was left breathless, while Osman lay on his side, gazing with admiration at the young woman breathing heavily next to him.
