Closure

by Ethan Jones

  Claudia still had sufficient air in her expanded lungs for another minute, a minute and a half at the most. She had been trained at The Plant for such extreme situations, and her best record was three minutes. That was in a clear-water swimming pool, in perfectly controlled conditions. Unlike this situation, where a mistake could get her and Wissam killed.

  Words of one of her mentors rang through her mind: Concentrate on something relaxing. Yes, my mom taking me to school. She thought of her daily stroll with her mom to the school three blocks away from her home. Her mind began to relax as she began to count.

  After a minute and a half, Claudia felt her lungs beginning to burn. She would have to come up for air soon, otherwise she would not be able to come up at all. She blinked to clear her eyes and looked up as the searchlight once again swept across the waters.

  Claudia ignored the bursting sensation developing deep in her lungs. All her muscles were relaxed, but she still needed air. Desperately. Otherwise, she would lose consciousness and drop to the bottom of the sea.

  She counted another fifteen seconds, then slowly began to exhale and swim upward. She had to come up to the surface if she wanted to live.

  Then someone pulled at the rope.

  The signal.

  She thrust her body forward through the darkness and a moment later, her head popped above the surface. She gasped for breath as air rushed into her empty lungs. The small wooden boat appeared very close to her, providing cover from anyone who might still be gazing from the patrol boat. She could not see it, but she thought she heard the engine’s rumble growing quieter.

  “Claudia, Claudia,” Wissam said.

  She locked fingers with his stretched hand, and he pulled her gently into the boat. Claudia was still struggling to catch her breath, and her shivering continued. She clenched her jaws, but her teeth kept chattering. Nabil wrapped her in a black blanket, and Claudia pulled it tight around her.

  “Sorry about that,” Wissam said.

  “It ... I had ... to do it.”

  “Yes, but now we’re free to go.” Wissam looked up at Nabil.

  He nodded slowly. “You brave woman.” He grinned. “We boat to Bahrain.”

  Claudia smiled and nodded. She closed her eyes, hoping the next time she opened them, she and the two men would be beyond the Saudis’ reach.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Two blocks away from Al Rafidain Hotel

  Baghdad, Iraq

  Javin paid the cabdriver and walked along the dimly lit empty alleyway. He slowed down when he drew near a small grocery store that was still open. A couple of men were chatting with the clerk behind the counter, but none of them paid any attention to Javin.

  At the next intersection, he pulled out the phone from his jacket pocket. He glanced at Al Rafidain Hotel—a three-story grayish building—to his left, then he scanned the surroundings. A sedan was parked to his right, but out of earshot. Two men were walking about sixty yards away. So Javin went ahead and dialed a number from memory.

  “Yes, who is this?” A soft female voice asked in Russian from the other end of the call.

  “Mila, it’s Javin,” he said without hesitation.

  “Javin, dear Javin,” Mila said in English without a trace of an accent.

  Mila Kuznetsov worked as a special operative for the SVR—Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki—the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. She was smart, tough, and very resourceful, with a vast network of assets, partners, and friends that stretched across Europe and beyond the Atlantic.

  Mila’s voice kept the initial warmth, and there was a shuffle in the background, followed by a creak, as if she had closed a door. “Always a pleasure to hear from you, my dear Javin.”

  “Eh, yes, but this is more of a business call, Mila.”

  “I suspected that, Javin. You never call to just say ‘Hello,’ do you?”

  “True, I’m guilty of that.”

  “But there’s nothing wrong in mixing pleasure with business now, is there?”

  “That depends on the pleasure.”

  The last time they had met, Mila had planted a deep, passionate kiss on Javin’s lips. He had not pulled away, accepting the price for Mila’s cooperation. She had always desired him, even when Javin was married. He was not sure what Mila would demand in exchange for the favor he was about to ask.

  “Javin, Javin, you need to loosen up, my darling.”

  “I wish I could, Mila. But I’m neck-deep in trouble.”

  “Shouldn’t you be used to that by now?”

  “Yes, one would think so, but this is a different scenario.”

  “Different how?” Mila’s voice rang with genuine curiosity.

  “I’m having trust issues with almost everyone around me.”

  “That sounds like an understatement, Javin.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Javin blinked, puzzled by Mila’s reply. “I might, but let’s be clear about it.”

  “Sure. Your boss is trying to terminate you.”

  A shiver went through Javin’s body. Perhaps it was because Mila knew about the bad blood running between him and Martin. Or maybe it was because of the way Mila said the word “terminate,” in a razor-sharp tone.

  Before he could say anything, Mila continued, “And he’s not the only one, Javin.”

  “How much do you know about this?”

  “I know enough, and I was kind of expecting your call.”

  “You were?”

  “But of course. We’re good friends, right? Perhaps we can be even more. I’d hate to see you dead, Javin.”

  “Yeah, me too,” he said in a low voice.

  “So, what do you need, darling?” Mila’s voice resumed the earlier warmth.

  Javin frowned. His experience with Mila had taught him to always expect a string attached to her help. It had never been for love. Beneath her care and concern, he sensed a hint of a hook. Javin had no other option but to take the bait. “I need to strike back.”

  “Yes, yes, I have come to that conclusion. I need specifics.”

  “I don’t have an exact plan, but I’m working on it.”

  “Give me what you have.”

  “Location: Geneva. Time: tomorrow.”

  “Crew?”

  “Five to ten.”

  “What you have or what you’re asking?”

  “I only have two confirmed. Few potentials, so that’s an ask.”

  Mila sighed. “Javin, with such short notice, in the heart of Europe, this will be extremely difficult.”

  “Yes, I know it’s a big favor.”

  “What are we doing?”

  Javin smiled. He liked how Mila said “we.” She was already on board. “A snatch-and-grab op. Two targets.”

  “One of them is your boss?”

  “Correct.”

  “And the other?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “All right. What’s the opposition?”

  “Security detail of four to six people. There will be additional security personnel in the area.”

  “We’ll have to account for local police.”

  “Correct again.”

  Mila said nothing for a long moment.

  Javin thought he heard the light tapping of keys in the background. “Mila?”

  “Yes, just give me a moment.”

  “Okay.”

  Another few seconds, then Mila said, “We’ll make our move before or after the conference?”

  “That’s what you were searching.”

  “Yes, I’m not going blind into this op, Javin. I know your Minister is attending.”

  Javin frowned. He did not like the way Mila’s voice had taken on a hint of doubt. “He is, yes, but that won’t be a problem.”

  “Is he the second target?”

  “And if he was?”

  “Javin, I’m just making sure you know what you’re doing, and what I’m getting into.”

  “I’m
fully aware of what’s going on, Mila, but thanks for the reminder.”

  Mila sighed. “Sarcasm will not get us anywhere, Javin. What’s your purpose once you have Martin and the minister in your hands?”

  Javin shrugged. “Do I need to spell it out?”

  “That’s why I asked.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “Both men have wronged me and ...” His voice trailed off. He wanted to add “my family,” but he wanted to tell Mila as little as possible. “They need to pay for what they have done.”

  “You’re planning to kill them?”

  “How about we take this one step at a time?”

  “You’re evading my question, Javin.”

  He cursed under his breath. “My actions will depend on theirs.”

  “Aaaah, so an eye for an eye then?”

  “No, this isn’t revenge. Their actions will be met with the right response.”

  Mila hesitated for a moment, then said, “All right, Javin. I’ll take that explanation, for now. But we’ll revisit this aspect of the plan.”

  Javin nodded and heaved a sigh of relief.

  Mila continued, “I have to make some calls, and figure things out. But I think the best option is to hit your boss and the Minister in transit.”

  Javin thought about telling Mila that his boss was expecting Javin to exact retribution. Mila would have figured that out on her own. If not, I’ll fill in the team when we meet up. “I agree. Perhaps after the conference, but we’ll work out the best place and time.”

  “Yes, we’ll do that, Javin.”

  “Now, one last thing: what would I owe you?”

  “About that, I would have to check and let you know. You understand the extent of the favor you’re asking, right?”

  “I certainly do.”

  “And the dangers if things go sideways?”

  Javin thought when, rather than if, convinced by his many years in the field and by his first-hand knowledge of Martin’s personality. “Yes, those as well.”

  “Well, then you know to expect something of the same scale, when you’ve returned to your agency.”

  Yes, if I ever return. Javin sighed, then said, “I’ll owe you, Mila.”

  “Good. I’m glad to know we have an understanding, Javin. Now, I’ll call you as soon as I have an answer.”

  “When?”

  “Give me two hours. This is a good number?”

  “It is.”

  “Two hours, then.”

  “Perfect.”

  “All right, Javin. Is there anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Stay alive, Javin.”

  “I’ll try, Mila. You take care of yourself.”

  She ended the call without another word.

  Javin shrugged. When choosing between two devils, go with the one you know ...

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Western coast of Bahrain

  The vehicle awaiting Wissam’s and Claudia’s arrival in Bahrain was a tiny two-door Kia well beyond its heyday. Claudia did not mind the cramped quarters. She was glad to be warm, although her clothes were still damp. The young man Wissam had trusted with their transport had not been instructed to bring along a change of clothes, a fact she was about to remedy as soon as they saw the first open clothing store.

  The young man had not forgotten to bring some of the tools of their trade: a clean Sig Sauer P320 9mm pistol—Claudia’s favorite—a wad of American dollars, and a couple of burner phones. She took the first one, a six-inch Samsung Galaxy phone, and began to surf the Internet. She knew better than to attempt to log in to the CIS database or any of her personal email or other online accounts. Like any well-trained covert operative, Claudia had been taught to have a complete second set of accounts, documents, and logins, separate and unknown to the CIS. If her cover was compromised or the agency was forced to deny her existence, Claudia would still be able to survive. The agency had not foreseen Claudia using this second identity to evade their hunt for her.

  With a few clicks, she accessed a few databases of geo-political intelligence platforms. She still needed to know where Javin was headed. Claudia had a hunch that he was not staying in Iraq or Jordan for long. She knew Javin. He was not one to start a fight, but he also was not one to leave it unfinished. If Martin had made the attempt against their lives, Javin would face his boss and make him pay, sooner rather than later.

  As she scrolled through a series of articles covering recent events and future ones, she typed a few keywords, to narrow her search. She was looking for events, meetings, conferences, something that would bring Martin out in the open, away from the safety of Canada.

  There was nothing in the Middle East, at least nothing she was able to find and that her boss seemed to have been scheduled to attend. Claudia refined her search, targeting North Africa. Again nothing. She expanded her keywords to include the rest of Africa, but disappointingly the search returned no hits.

  Europe?

  She frowned. Would Javin make an attempt against Martin in Europe? Claudia shrugged. It’s worth a try.

  A smile creased her lips as she glanced at the results. Two high-level intelligence conferences were taking place this week. The first one was tomorrow in Geneva; the second one three days later in Turin, Italy. Which one would Javin go for? He’s a patient man, but in this case, I don’t think he’s going to wait.

  Claudia clicked on the headline announcing the Geneva event. She glanced at the topics for discussion, then looked at the list of attendees. Her boss’s name was there, along with that of the Minister of Public Safety John Macdonald, the man in charge of the entire CIS—Martin’s ultimate boss. Claudia nodded to herself. If I were Javin, I’d go for Geneva. Kill two birds with one stone. Grab Martin and make his treason known to the minister.

  Claudia tapped on the screen and checked the second event, to cover all the bases. Only the minister was attending the Turin conference, which was a lower-level meeting than the one in Geneva. No, Javin is going for Geneva, if he’s not already there.

  She looked up at Wissam in the front passenger’s seat, then her gaze went out the window.

  They were driving on King Hamad Highway, and to her right, she noticed a couple of stores. “Wissam, let’s turn here. I need clothes.”

  “Sure.” Wissam gestured to the driver, who nodded and steered in that direction. “I doubt anything is open at this ungodly hour of the night.”

  “Or the morning. It will be sunrise very soon,” the driver said.

  Claudia said, “It’s worth a try. Someone opening up early.”

  Wissam nodded and shifted in his seat and said, “I noticed you smiling earlier. Good news?”

  Claudia did not reply right away. She looked at Wissam, then tipped her head slowly toward the driver.

  Wissam understood her gesture. “He’s okay, Claudia.”

  She shrugged. Wissam might trust the driver, but Claudia had just met him and did not know much about the young man. Even if she did, any operation needed a chain cut-out, so that if the driver was ever arrested and forced to reveal intelligence, he would know only the bare minimum. Compartmentalization was crucial in safeguarding the network of operatives and their assets. “I might have something on our target.”

  “Location?”

  “Not anywhere near. We need to get on the next flight.”

  “Nothing’s departing until five this morning. Even if it did, we wouldn’t be at the airport until at least an hour and a half from now.”

  “Get us a couple of seats on the first available one.”

  “To where?” Wissam pulled out his phone.

  Claudia looked at the driver, who caught her eyes in the rearview mirror. Before she could reply, the young man turned on the right-hand signal and slowed down.

  “What are you doing?” Wissam asked.

  “We need to talk,” Claudia said. “Thank you,” she said to the driver.

  He nodded without saying anything. He parked on the side of a two-lane street,
across from a small mosque lit by faint lights. As soon as the driver closed the door behind him, Claudia said, “I think I know where Javin is.”

  “You do?”

  “Well, maybe where he’s headed. There’s a high-level conference taking place in Geneva tomorrow—well, today in the evening is the opening session, followed by the reception.”

  “And why would Javin go there?”

  Claudia hesitated for a moment. She had asked Wissam for assistance in getting her out of Saudi Arabia and in procuring her temporary identification papers. Claudia had not explained the reasons why she or Javin were on the run, or why they could not turn to the CIS for support. Wissam could figure things out on his own. “He’s meeting with someone.”

  Wissam frowned. “Claudia, level with me.”

  “I’m not lying to you, Wissam. He’s going there for a meeting.”

  “Right, to meet someone and then kill them.”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “What then?”

  She sighed. “Javin and I ran into some trouble in Riyadh a few days ago.”

  Wissam nodded. “I know that, otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me.”

  “I appreciate all your help. Now, Javin and I need to find out what happened that the op went sideways.”

  “You received bad intelligence?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And the answer might be at this conference?”

  “Correct. Someone there knows the background of why things went the way they did in Riyadh.”

  “And Javin will extract the truth out of them?”

  “Hopefully, things will not go that far. But you don’t have to worry about that, Wissam. We part ways at the airport.”

  “You won’t get rid of me so fast.”

  “I can’t ask you to go with me to Geneva.”

  “You’re not asking; I’m offering. I’ve never been to Europe.”

  Claudia grinned. “This isn’t a skiing trip.”

  “No, really? I’m heartbroken.”

  “It’s going to get pretty hairy.”

  “I’d like that. At all conferences I’ve attended, I’ve been bored to death.”

  “This will be nothing like that.”