Fletcher loosened his tie and prepared for the dangerous journey west. He thought to himself how deceivingly peaceful the Central Bekaa Valley appeared. On both sides of the highway he observed vineyards, olive groves, and forests of cedar trees. About a thirty miles past Château Kefraya winery, he turned left and began heading north. After a few hours, he spotted a dirt road that he had noted on one of the maps supplied by Israeli intelligence. It was nearly midnight when he turned on to this road which led to a desolate area comprised of rocky hills. Eventually he stopped, parking the Peugeot behind a ring of bushes.
Fletcher got out and removed the crate from the back, dragging it a few feet from the Peugeot. He then took the tire iron out of the back of the car and used it to pry open the box. Systematically he removed each item and organized its contents into separate piles.
The crate was affectionately referred to in intelligence circles as a “Goodie Bag.” It was one of many prepared by the CIA in Langley, Virginia and distributed throughout the world. The crate contained all that was needed for a single agent to complete a hostile mission.
He first removed a Colt Commando CAR-15 automatic rifle. The Commando, with its thirty-round magazines, was relatively light but extremely lethal at close and medium ranges. It included a barrel attachment known as the Rifleman’s Assault Weapon, with six ball-shaped rocket-propelled grenades that could blast through tank armor or thick concrete. Next to the Commando was an Austrian Steyr SSG 69 sniper’s rifle with a detachable silencer and a Star-Tron Image Intensifier scope. There was also a Colt .45 ACP M1911 pistol with eight clips.
Ron was surprised to find an Israeli air gun about the size of the Colt M1911 that he had heard about but never actually seen. The gun fired a glass dart which was filled with a mixture of Vietnamese centipede and Fer-de-lance snake venom. It was said that the mixture would cause immediate paralysis, followed by a slow, agonizing death. Fletcher quickly reviewed the instructions for the air gun that was attached to a box of twenty darts.
Ron then removed a knapsack containing an M72 LAW anti-tank weapon and an M2-series grenade launcher that had been modified to fit the SSG 69. These were accompanied by a half-dozen M34 smoke grenades, also known as “Willie Petes,” fifteen M67 grenades, a dozen MK3 concussion grenades, and twenty pounds of plastic explosives complete with caps and radio-controlled electronic detonators.
He then organized the remainder of gear which included twenty flares, K-rations for a week, commando gloves, combat boots in three sizes, five pairs each of undershirts, underwear, and heavy-duty army socks, a sleeping bag, a Gerber Mark II combat knife, an army compass, a 10 foot by 12 foot waterproof tarp, and three black nylon jogging suits. As per regulations, the total weight for all weapons and equipment was eighty pounds.
“Heavy, but not too bad.” Fletcher thought to himself. “A Roman infantry soldier was required to carry about eighty pounds of equipment into battle. I guess times haven’t changed.”
Fletcher removed his clothes and put on one of the jogging suits and size 13 boots. He then strapped the now-packed knapsack to his back, and slung the two rifles and grenade launcher over his right shoulder. For an average soldier it was a heavy load, but Fletcher was focused on his mission and didn’t even notice the weight. He began his long hike through the hills toward the PLGA base near Aaita El Foukhar, not far from the Syrian border.
Ron, having memorized the base’s coordinates, used the M-1950 U.S. Army Lensatic Compass for navigation. He stayed off the dirt road, preferring seldom-used goat paths. As he walked, he reviewed in his mind the intelligence reports regarding the layout and security protocols of the base he was approaching.
On the one hand, Fletcher knew that he was about to attempt a solo attack on a small battalion of armed combatants in a fortified compound. The odds of success appeared to be strongly against him. However, his experience over the past two years serving side-by-side with Israel’s top commandos had taught him that these terrorists were not really soldiers. They lacked the necessary skills and training needed to defend against his plan. These killers, responsible for Mary’s murder, were only trained in terrorism. Sure, they could kill unarmed civilians, women, children and elderly people, but when it came to fighting defensively against trained warriors, such as Israeli paratroopers, Golani infantry, and Navy frogmen, they just didn’t have the training necessary to defend themselves. Fletcher knew that his skills in warfare could match the best of the best, and therefore he had formulated a plan based on the intelligence he had acquired regarding the enemy and the arms and equipment he had at his disposal.
The PLGA base was located in an abandoned Lebanese Army fort, which in itself was founded on the ruins of a crusader outpost. It consisted of a few administrative buildings, an ancient water cistern used as an armory, a mess hall, and barracks that housed three hundred PLGA terrorists.
According to the Israeli intelligence reports, there were three nightly guard shifts. Fletcher had chosen to assault the base at 4:30 a.m., near the end of the third shift and before daybreak. There were five guards, one in each of two of the base’s four guard towers, and three at the main gate.
Fletcher arrived at a barren hill overlooking the entrance of the base at about 2:00 a.m. He set down the knapsack and placed the two rifles and grenade launcher against a tree. He opened the pack and removed three cans. Fletcher started with the goulash, which, according to the date on the can, had just celebrated its sixth birthday. He ate it cold. He then downed a can of sweet corn along with a large amount of “corn juice.” Finally, he washed it all down with a liter of water.
Fletcher then turned to his weapons. He cleaned the packing grease from both rifles as thoroughly as possible. Then he checked the clips, making sure the springs were in proper working order and that each clip was full minus one round to prevent jamming.
When Fletcher completed his weapons check it was nearly 3:00 am. He decided to force himself to take a short nap to make sure he would be alert later. As he opened his sleeping bag, thunder rumbled in the distance. Weather reports had predicted a brief heavy shower followed by dense fog. By the time he had entered the mummy-type down sleeping bag, which was covered above and below by the tarp, a heavy downfall of rain had begun.
Fletcher wasn’t sure whether he actually slept, but at 4:00 his watch alarm buzzed. He opened his eyes and extricated himself from the sleeping bag, finding that he was now in the middle of a shallow pool of water. It was still dark and there was a persistent light drizzle. As predicted, thick fog had set in. His gear was stowed in the waterproof knapsack about ten feet away on slightly elevated ground.
Fletcher removed the two rifles and grenade launcher and performed a final inspection. He then rolled up his sleeping bag and strapped it to the bottom of his backpack. Jogging halfway down the hill, he stopped behind a large boulder. He lifted the SSG 69 and gazed through the scope. With the help of the Star-Tron image enhancer, he spotted all five guards. He quickly worked out the order of elimination in his mind.
Fletcher placed the guard in the farthest tower in the crosshairs of the sniper rife. The silencer did its job, muffling the sound of the fire as the bullet found its target in the center of the unsuspecting guard’s forehead. In rapid sequence, he proceeded to eliminate the guard in the other tower and the three half-asleep guards at the gate.
“I guess I haven’t lost it,” Fletcher thought to himself, as he stealthily descended the hill toward the main gate of the PLGA base.
12
Rachel Bronot sat behind her desk with her eyes closed in deep contemplation, trying to unravel the puzzle of the three cylinders. She opened her eyes and glanced around her no-frills office, which consisted of a gray metal desk with two folding chairs, a filing cabinet, and an electric teapot. The previous day, thanks to information elicited by American NSA liaison Ronald Fletcher, Israeli security forces had picked up two men that had in their possession steel cylinders. However, no information of any real import had yet been gleaned
from them.
Bronot’s office was located within Israel’s equivalent to the Pentagon, known as HaKirya. This complex could best be described as an army base in the form of a densely packed city. It was comprised of a cluster of office buildings enclosed by fences, walls, and security gates. HaKirya held the headquarters of all branches of the Israel Defense Forces, and within its walls took place the most critical Israeli military logistics and planning. On any given day, one could find the IDF’s highest ranking generals and their staff members walking around the campus or eating in the cafeteria. And while the political office of the Defense Minister was located in Jerusalem, his base of operations was in HaKirya.
For the past three years, Rachel had been in charge of coordinating intelligence between the Mossad, Israel’s equivalent to the CIA, the Shin Bet, Israel’s internal security organization, and Military Intelligence. The information they gathered was analyzed and often times acted upon by her anti-terrorist unit, Nekama. This was her brainchild. Having realized that a significant number of attacks on Israel had failed to be prevented because of a lack of adequate coordination of information, Bronot had spent years speaking to any politician that would listen about the importance of an independent department which would consolidate and coordinate all available intelligence. Bronot’s agency became, in effect, the place where the dots were connected.
As a result of her efforts, Nekama was born. Bronot was given unparalleled access to all sources of available intelligence. Nekama proved to be highly effective in thwarting terrorist attacks. But more than just stop attacks, it had been extraordinarily successful in identifying and neutralizing dozens of senior terrorists who made up the upper echelons of different terrorist organizations.
As she reviewed the preliminary report, she had drafted to the Prime Minister regarding the attack on the Netanya beach, Bronot felt that it was lacking perhaps the most important piece of information: the connection between the attack and the mystery of the cylinders.
Instead of having the cylinders sent to the central police laboratory in Jerusalem, Bronot had ordered that they be examined by the top-secret Army Biological Warfare Division. The preliminary lab report had stated that the first cylinder contained an unusual unknown material of organic origin. This material had been tested on a large sample of animals and plants and found to be harmless. Rachel had ordered testing to continue while she continued to work to obtain additional information on Rajad and PLGA through her intelligence network.
This question of “why” was at the heart of Bronot’s uncertainty. Why would PLGA go to the trouble of staging a suicidal raid to cover the entry of their chief, Ali Rajad? Why would Rajad, who generally managed his operations from a safe distance, be personally involved in transporting the cylinders? She was convinced that failure to determine the nature of this operation could be catastrophic to the security of the State of Israel.
As Bronot reviewed the information in her mind, her phone rang. It was Professor Ehud Levy, the Army’s top microbiologist, now in charge of Israel’s biological warfare facility near the Dead Sea. Levy was a distinguished tenured professor of world renown at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Included among his myriad honors and awards was not one but two Nobel Prizes, one in Chemistry and the other in Medicine.
Their conversation was brief.
Levy, in a somewhat restrained, yet unnerving low-pitched voice said just two words, “Come quickly.”
Bronot understood that Levy had a revelation that could only be explained in person. She ordered her secretary to secure one of HaKirya’s helicopters that was on standby at the complex’s landing pad. Within forty minutes, Bronot was sitting in Ehud Levy’s office.
Israel’s biological warfare facility near the Dead Sea was one of the most sophisticated in the world. It was established in the early 1960s after Gamel Abdel Nasser, then President of Egypt, had hired former Nazi scientists to develop cultures of Bubonic Plague to be used against Israel. The Mossad had stopped this program by assassinating several of the scientists and blowing up their main research site. At that time, Israel decided to develop its own program as a deterrent to any Arab country contemplating to attack the Jewish State with chemical or biological weapons. Israel recruited top Jewish scientists from around the world. In a few years the Dead Sea facility was on par with similar facilities in the United States, England, and the Soviet Union.
While Professor Levy was usually meticulous in his appearance, today he appeared disheveled. He was not only a brilliant scientist, but also a very rich bachelor from the Nobel Prize money. As a result, he had developed a reputation as somewhat of an international playboy. Levy was constantly traveling the world, lecturing at top universities, speaking before think tanks, and consulting friendly governments seeking his insights regarding the most pressing dangers to international security. He was quite personable, and was inevitably the center of every party and gathering.
Though the world was at his fingertips, including some of the most sought-after women, Levy really had only one woman in mind, Rachel Bronot. Levy couldn’t get over the fact that while Bronot was the most stunning women he had ever met, she stood toe-to-toe with him in intellect and was also Israel’s top spy. Bronot, on the other hand, was not interested in Levy’s advances or, for that matter, any other of the many would-be suitors pursuing her. Bronot had not even thought about even dating since the day her one true love was brutally murdered.
Levy understood the internal pain Bronot was still going through, so he had learned to back off. Today, he knew that the two must focus on the potentially apocalyptic situation. So, he said to himself, he would deal with his feelings for Rachel after the crisis had passed.
Levy addressed Bronot on a professional basis. “I’m glad you came so quickly. We have one very big problem.”
Bronot was disturbed by Levy’s attitude. On previous meetings he had always projected total confidence, showing that he was in complete control of the situation. If there was an impossible scientific problem needing a solution, Levy was your guy. Bronot also knew Levy had reputation for understating facts. That worried her. If Levy used the words “big problem,” it could only mean a catastrophe.
“It couldn’t be as bad as you think?” Bronot asked.
“Worse, I’m afraid. If zero means harmless and ten means extremely lethal, I would give these cylinders a hundred.” Levy paused to let his words skin in.
“Let me go over with you what just happened. After completing our preliminary tests on the usual selection of animal, plant, fungal, and bacterial species, I wrote up my report and sent it to you. Every indication had shown that the material in the cylinders was not biologically active in any way. Then I went to the cafeteria for lunch. While I was out, my assistant, Dr. Dalia Tamron, took over. She called me and asked my permission to remove the cylinders from the isolation glove box to conduct further analysis. I gave her permission since our preliminary analysis had indicated that the material in the cylinders was completely benign in nature.
“After lunch, I came to my office and made a few phone calls. About an hour later, I returned to the lab to conduct further testing. Before entering, I glanced at the monitor above the security guard’s station and could not see any activity in the lab. This was very unusual. By protocol, we always make sure there is at least one staffer in the laboratory during regular hours. I then picked up the log and saw that Dr. Tamron never checked out. That’s when I knew there was a real problem.”
“Perhaps she just stepped out for a moment and forgot to sign the log.” Bronot suggested.
“Impossible! We are meticulous about protocol here, for obvious reasons. Our security officers are assigned from elite units of Army Internal Security. They would not leave their post unauthorized even if beckoned by the Angel of Death.
“Even though the lab is hermetically sealed, and there was no possibility of any accidental leakage into the environment outside of the laboratory, I ordered that the entire research area b
e put on lockdown until we have determined the best way to approach this.”
Levy called his secretary via intercom. “Please have the security tapes brought in.”
Within a minute two security guards rolled in a large monitor with an attached video player.
Levy then said to Rachel. “Cameras in this facility continuously record all laboratory activity. Let me show you what happened.”
Levy ordered the two guards to leave. He put a tape into the player and pressed play.
On the video, Dr. Tamron is seen opening a side panel in the glove box to remove one of the cylinders which had been opened in isolation. Four other technicians are working in different parts of the laboratory. Suddenly the scientists’ bodies appear to break down into particles of fine, gray dust. The air filtration system gradually absorbs the dust, leaving the scientists’ clothing and lab coats intact.
Levy shut off the monitor. Then he sat behind his desk, deep in thought. Rachel, too, began to absorb the real possibility that the cylinder was, in fact, a weapon of mass destruction.
After a long moment of silence, Rachel was the first to speak. “What do you make of that?”
Professor Levy took a few moments to reply. “Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve never seen anything like it. This is most certainly a biological weapon, even though, to my knowledge, no pathogen known to mankind is as efficiently lethal as that which is contained in the cylinder. I believe the amount of pathogen floating around in the lab would likely be enough to wipe out the entire country!”
Agent of Vengeance Page 11
