by Ethan Jones
Ajaz got the message. “I’ll do what I can,” he said quickly in a voice full of confidence.
“Perfect.”
Zeki walked in carrying their coffees.
Javin picked up his and took a sip. “Oh, this is so good.” He nodded at Zeki. “I’ll let the two of you figure out the logistics. Ajaz, you understand what we need?”
“Yes.” Ajaz nodded.
“All right. Make it happen.”
Chapter Eighteen
CIS Safehouse
Istanbul, Turkey
Javin spent the next hour reviewing a series of reports about MI6’s activities in Turkey, as well as any potential ties between MI6 and Turkish intelligence service agents. He could not establish a clear connection between Erkan and operatives of the British Secret Intelligence Service. It was true that Erkan had been involved in a number of assignments in London and the surrounding area. Javin assumed this was done with MI6’s knowledge or approval. However, there was nothing in the reports obtained by the Canadian intelligence agency to indicate Erkan had ever worked on a joint operation with his British counterparts.
Javin knew that entire operations or certain parts deemed “extremely sensitive” remained off the records. A lot of the background footwork—where most of the cooperation among intelligence agencies took place—was also left off the official after-action reports. But Javin was also familiar with situations where covert operatives exaggerated their merits and involvement in certain missions, especially the high-profile ones. Given the classified nature of those missions, it was nearly impossible to verify operatives’ claims and the exact role they had played.
So, is Ajaz lying to us and pointing his fingers at Erkan to send us on a wild goose chase? His account more or less matches Fox’s admission, with the obvious difference that according to the MI6 director, the masked men were merely “assets,” rather than MI6 agents. Now, both versions could be correct, as Erkan could have given the intel to MI6 agents, who, in turn, used their local contacts for the retrieval mission.
Javin drew in a deep breath and began to massage the middle of his forehead. All this analysis is giving me a head-splitting headache. Let’s see if a Tylenol makes a difference.
Half an hour later, the headache had not lessened and had spread to his neck and shoulders. Javin stood up and paced around the room without finding comfort. I should just go for a run. That usually helps stretch out my muscles.
He changed into a red-and-black track suit and took a brown woolen cap. He fastened his waistband holster with his Sig pistol, put on his runners, and stepped into the hall. Javin walked to Claudia’s room and knocked on the door. “Claudia, I’m going for a run. Wanna join me?”
“Sure, give me a sec to change.”
“I’ll make coffee. Want some?”
“Sure. Decaf, please.”
“You’ve got it.”
Five minutes later, Claudia met him in the kitchen. She was dressed in black yoga pants, gray top, and a black windbreaker. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Claudia’s holster was tucked underneath her left arm. It was almost invisible, but Javin knew where to look.
“No hat? It’s cold,” he said.
Claudia shrugged. “The run will warm me up.”
“Here you go.” He handed Claudia her cup.
She took a sip. “Where are we running?”
“There’s a route along the Bosphorus. Three Ks, if we do it all.”
“Sure, sounds good. How far is it?”
“Fifteen-minute walk.”
Claudia glanced at her wristwatch. “It will be getting dark by the time we get there.”
Javin glanced out the window. “We have at least half an hour before sunset, but we’ll see. The path should be well-lit. At least, that’s what the reviews said.”
Claudia brought the cup to her mouth. She stepped closer to Javin and said in a low voice, “Do you believe Ajaz?”
Javin shrugged. “No, not yet. It’s easy to blame someone we can’t interrogate and hear his side of the story. Very convenient for Ajaz.”
Claudia nodded. “Nothing in the reports about Erkan?”
“No clear indication he ever worked with MI6, let alone having a vast network.”
“I couldn’t find anything either.”
“Ajaz better come up with something convincing.”
“And if he doesn’t? What are we going to do with him?”
“I’m sure he’ll deliver the intel. I can see it in his eyes. He’s stalling, trying to give us as little as possible, enough to avoid torture.”
“Zeki would love to take over and beat the truth out of Ajaz.”
Javin nodded. “Yes, I disagree with Zeki’s methods, but they can be useful at times. Especially as starting points.”
Claudia nodded. “Ready to go?”
“You’re not going to finish?” He pointed at her half-drank cup.
“I’m going to take it with me. I’ll pour it into a plastic cup.”
Two minutes later, they were walking briskly on Ahmet Adnan Saygun Avenue. Javin had allowed Claudia to set the pace, and she was pressing hard. In college, Claudia had been a long-distance runner. Javin preferred biking in order to save his knees, especially the left one. A shooting three years ago had shattered his kneecap. Thankfully for him, surgeons had carried out almost a miracle in repairing his knee. But he experienced excruciating pain if he went over the top with his workouts.
When they reached the intersection, they slowed down as the traffic lights changed. Javin glanced to the right at a group of people crossing from the other side. His eyes moved away, then he did a double take. Among the group, he saw Steffi’s face.
What? No, it can’t be.
He knew it was a figment of his hopeful imagination. He knew Steffi was gone and was not coming back. A part of him, though, still had not come to terms with the reality. Javin thought he had accepted the hard, bitter truth, but in moments like this, his mind pushed the truth to the side, longing for Steffi to be alive once again.
He kept his eyes glued onto Steffi as she moved toward him. Javin stepped to the side and walked toward her.
“Javin, Javin, what are you doing?”
Claudia’s voice shattered his daydreaming.
He glanced at the woman who had reminded him of his departed wife. The resemblance was striking. The same long black hair parted to the side; the same bright blue eyes. The woman smiled at Javin and continued walking.
“Javin, what happened?” Claudia asked.
He gave the woman a last glance, then sighed. “I . . . I thought I saw someone I knew.”
“Who?”
Javin shrugged. “It’s okay now. Let’s go.” He pointed at the light that had just changed.
“It was Steffi again, wasn’t it?”
“How . . . how do you know?”
“Javin, I’ve known you for a long time. At times, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, especially when it comes to . . .” Her voice trailed off.
Javin nodded. Claudia had met Steffi several times, and they had gotten along well. They were not exactly friends, considering Claudia’s line of work and her fiery temperament. Steffi was usually laid back, but for some reason there was always a strange kind of tension when Claudia was around. Perhaps Steffi saw her as a threat or at the very least as a distraction for Javin, since often he spent more time with Claudia than with Steffi, sleeping and living in the same house for days at a time. Javin had thought about dating Claudia when they first met, but he worried that work would get in the way. Or if they broke up, the work relationship would be tense. Then, Steffi came into the picture, and Javin fell in love with her.
Claudia said, “We . . . we can talk about it, if you want.”
“Isn’t that awkward, though?” He walked fast so they could cross before the light changed again.
“You talking to me, a friend, about the pain you’re having? That’s absolutely normal, Javin.”
He nodded.
Claudia said, “I confided in you about how I felt after my breakup. Well, it wasn’t mine. That . . . that jerk . . . he just left.”
Javin nodded again. “Yes, but this is different.”
“How so?”
“I . . . I’m just not comfortable. Still anxious, I guess.”
“Did talking to Faith help?”
Faith Thompson was one of the best CIS clinical psychologists. Javin had seen her for six straight weeks following Steffi’s accident. One of her many suggestions was for Javin to slowly bring closure to his life. Steffi was gone, and hanging on to her things would only cause unnecessary pain. He should keep a few mementos and donate the rest.
Javin just could not bring himself to do that yet. Among a long list of to-does was closing Steffi’s Facebook and other social media accounts. He felt that erasing those small traces of her life would cause him to lose Steffi again.
He sighed, then said, “Yes, talking to Faith helped, but psychologists can only do so much.”
“True, that’s when friends step in. But, it’s up to you.”
Javin nodded. “Thanks, Claudia. Maybe I’ll take you up on the offer.”
“I’d love to help, Javin. Just let me know.”
They walked a few more blocks and reached Bebek Arnavutköy Avenue, then began their fast run toward the north. They followed the shores of the Bosphorus Strait, the natural boundary between Europe and Asia. A number of yachts and boats were anchored along the shores. Many people were braving the wet, cold weather and either going for a walk or sitting on benches and looking at the sea.
When they had come to Vezirköşkü Road, Javin’s phone rang. He slowed down and picked it up. The screen told him it was Zeki. “Go for Javin,” he said in between gasps.
“Javin, you okay?”
“Yes, yes, just out for a run. What’s going on?”
“Got some good news. Ajaz came through.”
“He found evidence about Erkan’s involvement in the intel leak?”
“Even better. He found Erkan, and he’s willing to talk to us.”
“All right, where is he?”
“Ajaz wouldn’t say. He wants to talk only to you.”
“All right, Zeki. We’ll be back shortly. No beatings this time, okay?”
Zeki sighed. “Of course not. I gave you my word.”
“Good. See you in a bit.”
Chapter Nineteen
CIS Safehouse
Istanbul, Turkey
“That’s it? That’s what Erkan said?” Javin asked in an incredulous tone.
Ajaz nodded. “Yes, that’s right. I’m not lying to you. He was here and can confirm my words.” He pointed at Zeki standing next to Javin.
Javin glanced at Zeki, who nodded. “Yes, that conversation took place.”
“So, Erkan is in Damascus, Syria, and he expects us to meet him there?” Javin said.
“Yes, but he’s willing to tell us all about his connections to MI6 and why the Brits are after the thumb drive.”
“Really? And why is that?” Javin asked. “What does he want in exchange?”
Ajaz shook his head. “I don’t know. I asked, but he didn’t say.”
“I want to talk to Erkan. Call him right now. I want to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.”
Ajaz, with a confused look, searched Javin’s face.
Javin said, “It means I want to hear Erkan’s exact words.”
“Oh, okay.”
Zeki handed Ajaz a cellphone.
Javin said, “Put him on speakerphone.”
“But he’ll know others are listening,” Ajaz said.
“He’ll know it sooner or later.”
Ajaz nodded and dialed a number from memory. The phone rang for a long time, perhaps ten rings, without anyone picking up and without an answering machine prompting Ajaz to leave a message. “He’s not answering,” Ajaz said the obvious.
“Try again in half an hour,” Javin said.
“What are you going to do?” Ajaz asked.
“Nothing, I will do nothing until I’ve talked to Erkan.” Javin stepped out of the room, followed by Claudia.
Zeki locked the door and met them in the kitchen, where Javin was making coffee. “What do you think, Zeki? What’s Erkan’s plan?”
Zeki shrugged. “I’m not sure, but this is very unusual. Earlier, we had only suspicions, but now Erkan is willing to hand us everything on a silver platter.”
Claudia nodded. “Yes, that’s a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. Erkan must be in deep trouble in Damascus if he’s willing to cut a deal with us.”
“What exactly did Ajaz tell Erkan about ‘us’?”
Zeki said, “He said a couple of contacts were interested in finding the reasons why the drive was so important, and how the MI6 learned about the drive’s whereabouts.”
Javin nodded. “I still don’t like it. This feels like an ambush.”
Claudia nodded. “It could be. Dragging us into Damascus, then kidnapping us in exchange for the drive and for Ajaz.”
Javin said, “Both scenarios are possible: Either Erkan needs some serious help, or he’s trying to sell us out.” He emptied the coffeemaker’s pot in the machine and pressed the start button. The machine began its gurgle.
“But which one is it?” Zeki said.
“If we assume that Ajaz’s words are true,” Claudia said, “then he could be setting a trap. The MIT knows we’re operating in Istanbul, but they haven’t found us. It’s not a big stretch of the imagination for Erkan to conclude that we’re the ones MIT is looking for. Luring us to Damascus is a great way to get us to a place where MIT, perhaps aided by GID or other Syrian agencies, can hit us.”
Javin nodded. The newly-restructured GID or General Intelligence Directorate was notorious for its elaborate scams and sophisticated operations. Recently, it had increased its cooperation with the MIT and other secret agencies active in the region, with the main goal of defeating the armed insurgency that was still active in large swaths of the country. “On the other hand, this could be a situation where Erkan is trapped. Again, if we take Ajaz at his word, and Erkan is the intel leak, he was probably expecting a big payout. It’s very likely that Erkan never got it, since the MI6 op to retrieve the drive went sideways, mostly because of our intervention. Now, it’s out in the open that he’s the traitor, and he can’t rely on the MIT for any help, if he is in dire straits in Damascus.”
“What’s he doing there anyway?” Claudia asked.
Zeki scratched his head. “He’s running an op for MIT, but I have to ask Ajaz if you need details.”
“Yes, we need them,” Javin said, “And a combination of both these scenarios could be true.”
Zeki said, “I’m not following.”
Javin said, “Let me explain. If Ajaz suspects Erkan is the traitor, then it’s pretty much an open secret. Erkan has probably learned about it by now, and he’s desperate to prove to the MIT that this is a baseless rumor. If he can bait the foreign spies who are very likely to be the ones wanted by the MIT, that would make Erkan the hero, rather than the villain.”
Claudia nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Whichever it is, it will be difficult for Martin to sanction this op, especially if we’re heading to Damascus right away and without any support.”
The coffeemaker made a series of popping sounds announcing the end of the brewing cycle. Javin filled a cup and handed it to Claudia. “Zeki, you want coffee?”
“No, I’m okay.”
Javin poured a generous amount in his cup and took a small sip. “Too bitter. Honey?”
Claudia shook her head.
Javin looked through the cupboards until he found a small bottle of honey and put a couple of teaspoons in his cup. “Yeah, much better now,” he said after taking a long swig. “You were saying our boss won’t authorize this op?”
Claudia nodded. “Right, even after we’ve talked to Erkan. We’ll have only his admission. No evidence from Ajaz but for his word, which we ca
n’t really trust.”
“Yes, Erkan would have to give us some very convincing evidence for the boss to even consider it. But if he does come through, we’ll need to have a plan in place. And that’s going to take some time.”
Zeki said, “We don’t have a lot of time.”
Javin shrugged, then ran his hands through his hair. “Yes, well, if Erkan wants a deal, he will have to wait a day or two. Unless he wants to meet in a much friendlier location, like Rome or Ottawa, and then the meeting could take place right away.”
Zeki shrugged. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Javin shrugged again and took another sip.
Claudia said, “Then, there’s the small matter of the price we’re paying for Erkan’s potential cooperation.”
“Yes, we need to find out what he wants,” Javin said.
“And whether we can afford to give it to him,” Claudia said.
Zeki opened his mouth to talk, but Javin’s phone rang. The ringtone told him it was their boss. “Yes, sir, go for Javin,” he said.
“Javin, how are you?” Martin’s voice sounded quite upbeat.
“Pretty good, sir. Good news, I imagine?” Javin smiled at Claudia, who gave him a thumbs-up.
“You can tell, eh?”
“Sometimes.”
“Well, our analytics team was able to identify two of the DSGE station attackers. They’re Syrians, linked to the Syrian Army. Both were members of the 5th Assault Corps until they retired about three months ago.”
Javin frowned. The 5th Assault Corps was an elite force made up exclusively of volunteer members. They were trained and equipped by Iran and Russia, and had gained a reputation as fierce and fearless. Most were battle-hardened in never-ending fighting against IS jihadists in Syria and Iraq. “Why’s the 5th Corps doing MIT’s bidding?”
“If that’s the case, Javin. Remember, the MIT can easily dismiss this as a coincidence.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“The MIT will claim the Syrians were operating on their own, attacking the French intel station for their own terror reasons. The fact that you and Claudia were there at the time of the attack, that was pure coincidence.”
