The two Diplomatic Security Service personnel joined us as well, making the elevator very crowded.
We got out on the tenth floor, where the suite, Room 1024, stood ready, the concierge beaming and booming, “Minister, it is our honor to have you as our guest!” She made it sound as though they had been waiting for him all this time.
Almog asked, “What should I tell our lunch guests?”
"What’s next on the agenda?” Gelber asked.
"Rice University, lecture and award.” Almog was starting to despair.
"Very good.” The minister was pleased. “Tell those lunch guests that they are invited to join us at the university. I will dedicate special time to them there.”
Noni finally arrived, out of breath; Almog immediately sent him to call the lunch guests and give them the news. We entered the foyer of the suite.
"Where’s the phone here?” asked the minister.
"There are two devices; the one in the bedroom offers more privacy,” I explained.
"Very good,” said the minister. “You.” He pointed at me. “And you, too.” He added Gelber. “Come with us. I have a few more questions.”
The door slammed in Almog’s face, and we entered the bedroom. The minister picked up the phone and began to rummage in his pockets. “I need Klein, and then Senator Mendoza. Do you know how to get a hold of them?”
"Easily.” I wondered what he had to do with the chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee.
He talked to each of them quietly and with a slight, apologetic smile, and after that asked for Barkat. He talked to him for less than a minute. “Everything is in place,” he told him, and for the rest of the conversation he just repeatedly barked a nervous yes.
"Well, then, where’s the twelve million?” he turned to me and asked. He had a nervous tic at the edge of his mouth.
Gelber glared at me through heavy eyelids.
"I have no idea,” I said in a surprised tone. The minister stared at me with cold eyes.
"That’s not what I heard.” When I did not reply, he continued, “You still have a chance to help in this matter. It would be a shame for you to get hurt.”
I could not believe he was threatening me in Gelber’s presence.
"I’m just your driver. Otherwise, I serve as the information officer of the mission.”
The minister was not really listening to me. “Too bad. Years of work going down the drain.”
"I suggest you talk to the consul general.” I said and left the room.
51.
Room 1024 had an adjoining door to Room 1022, which Noni had quickly set up as the “visiting office.” Nurit and Sharon had come from the consulate, and they were sitting at tiny desks working the phones, calling up all the invitees from the Federation luncheon and apologetically cancelling their meeting with the minister of science. Side tables were full of fruit, and there was an impressive lineup of bottles along the giant mirror. I filled my glass with ice and Jack Daniels. While there was tension and stress in the room, there was still an atmosphere of working efficiency.
Noni, who should have been at the consulate, was prowling like a caged lion. He was wearing his navy blue pinstriped suit, his “office suit” as he called it, which was quite different from his “mortician suit.” His tie was deep burgundy, and it looked good against his sky-blue dress shirt. If I hadn’t known him personally, I would have been impressed by his appearance.
As he made his sixth circuit through the room, I asked if I could help. He was utterly thrown off balance by the tightlipped Gelber’s presence. An annoyed smirk was Noni’s only response as he continued to pace.
“Enough, you’re making everyone nervous. What happened?”
“I have to speak with you.”
“Fine, I asked you if I could help.”
The only quiet place was the spacious bathroom. The faucets were gold-plated nickel. The giant bath towels bore the cheerful insignia of the Four Season, along with cute baskets containing a wide array of soaps, shampoos, and lotions.
“Should we really be talking here?” I asked apprehensively.
"Do you have a better place?”
"They’ll talk about us. Two grown men in a bathroom—”
“This is serious!” he cut me off.
I turned over the bidet cover and sat down. He remained standing by the sink, examining for a moment his pale face in the mirror. He seemed to want to start walking again. He was so serious that I put down my bourbon cup, trying to concentrate.
"It’s Shoshi,” he said effortlessly. “I am worried.” I immediately pictured her diligently sucking on Almog’s manhood. Noni must have figured it out.
"She is not satisfied with the arrangements for the visit?” I was trying to stall for time.
"It’s not that. Something bad is happening to her. I’m worried."
I had expected this crisis to erupt at some point, but Noni chose the most convenient time. “What do you think I can do?” I asked. “She’s not exactly friends with me, you know.”
"I know, but she appreciates you. You’re a good judge of character and you have a knack for getting people to talk, even harder nuts to crack than her. Maybe try to have a conversation with her?” Of course, I could not refuse. Just admitting to me what a hard-ass she was took a year off his life, no doubt.
"And is it urgent now? In the middle of the visit?”
"I don’t know,” he again anxiously reviewed his pale face in the mirror. “I think it’s very urgent. I’m afraid it’s going to fall apart at any moment. I’m addressing you in the most honest and open way.” Oh well. Honest and open wasn’t exactly Noni’s style. I’m thinking of all those phone calls to Hector. What were the results of the firearms test he’d performed?
"Maybe you’re imagining it? Maybe you’re just having an anxiety attack?”
"It’s serious.”
"I have to ask you something,” I said.
"About Shoshi and Almog?”
"Something completely different.” I knew what I was doing. “After Jay was murdered, you checked our guns here.”
His pale face paled further. “Almog told you that too?”
“No, someone else.”
“Hinenzon?” Now I know which phone call caught the FBI’s attention.
“No, it does not matter. You know what they say: ‘Three may keep a secret—’”
“‘…if two of them are dead,’” he completed the quote. Sadly. “I have to tell you something else…” Noni looked really bad. Again I thought that he was about to fall apart totally. Shoshi must be made of sturdier material.
“Yes?” I said gently.
“When I reported then that the four guns were only used at the range two months ago, I wasn’t exactly being accurate.”
I remained silent, waiting.
“Three of the guns were clean, one with traces of gunpowder. The consul general’s gun.”
“But there was no consul general here then!”
“Correct. That’s what I couldn’t make heads or tails of.” Noni breathed heavily, which he tended to do especially when he felt I didn’t believe him.
“I thought they might have forgotten to clean it after Efrati’s last time at the range. You know he would never clean his tool after visiting the range. He felt he was a nobleman. No one liked to clean it for him.”
“But that’s the responsibility of the security officer, which means it’s your duty. You ought to have reported it. Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I’m telling you a few more things, and I have to share that with someone too.” It’s still hard for me to get used to the fact that he may be telling the truth.
“Do you think that was the gun Jay was shot with?” I asked.
“Now that I think about it, that’s a possibility. I really hope I’m
wrong.”
“And if so, then who could have used it?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I don’t want to say. Only Dorothy had access to the room.”
And you as a supervisor, I thought to myself.
52.
Almog was outside the minister’s suite, red and enflamed like the setting sun. I sat in the corner of the room. The situation was about to explode. Almog pointed at me and beckoned me to approach.
“You heard it all,” he observed. “We must stop him. The minister has gone totally off the rails.”
“Are you sure he’s acting on his own?” I asked. “Maybe this is the PM’s opinion? After all, the deputy director general is part of his staff, approving directives.”
“What, have you also gone full bureaucrat? It doesn’t matter. Don’t you understand that the minister is a partner in the scientific group? They must be stopped. Get a hold of Giora. Tell him what you heard.”
“Giora is in Israel.”
“Giora is here in Houston. Dorothy has his phone number. If you cannot find her, look him up in her Rolodex under ‘Tarop,’ which is Porat backwards.”
“What should I tell him?”
Almog looked nervously at the door of the minister’s room.
“Everything you’ve heard.”
“That’s not enough”
Almog took a long breath.
“Someone’s going crazy here, and it’s not me. Two days ago there was an official Israeli appeal to the Pentagon, which will divert six warheads from decommissioned Minuteman missiles to Florida for scientific cooperation. O’Brien spoke to me last night. The team in Houston intends to send these warheads into space with a communications satellite. Using today’s techniques, it’s easy. I think you know the story. You’re working with Giora. Barkat and a few other madmen could fire those missiles at any target they feel like in the Middle East. Until now, it all seemed like a theoretical exercise only.”
“But now…” I prompted.
“Only now do I understand where the official Israeli appeal came from. The minister of science was in Washington for semi-annual strategic talks.”
“And can he ask for warheads?” I was amazed.
“Basically yes. It’s a bureaucratic process. It can be stopped.”
“They are stuck now without their twelve million,” I said. “It will take them a while to raise that amount again.”
“Do you know where the warheads are?”
I thought for a moment, and he got upset. “Come on. I know you know.”
“Galveston. Giora showed me.”
“So go ahead. Call him now.”
The door of the suite opened as the minister burst out and asked, “Do I still have time to meet those lunch guests?”
“You surprised me,” I whispered to Almog.
He looked at me in amazement.
“I didn’t think you would go against this group’s plan,” I added.
“There was a time when they, too, thought I was with them. You see they were wrong. And mistakes must be paid for.”
“Is there time or isn’t there?” The minister was impatient.
“There’s half an hour, but it takes fifteen minutes just to drive there, and most of them are already on their way to university,” Almog replied.
“Then stop them,” said the minister. “I promised to meet them for lunch; I intend to keep my word. Now, what should I lecture on at university?” he shot at Gelber.
“The consulate must have prepared suitable points for the lecture,” Gelber shook off the question quickly.
"We asked them to prepare a suitable text in collaboration with the head of the Institute for International Relations. You know, Bernie, your friend,” Moti, his chief of staff, whispered apprehensively.
"Where’s the text?” The minister of science raised his voice.
Almog looked like he doesn’t understand.
“Noni!” It was almost a roar now; Noni turned from the call he was trying to make to update the community on the program changes. “Bring the text we wrote!” Noni had already gone through all the pockets of his pants and jacket once; now he was in the middle of a second round. His face was contorted in utter despair. The text was in my jacket pocket, but I did not intend to solve this little problem for them. I needed a good excuse to leave the entourage immediately and report to Giora, or someone else sane back home.
"Ah... ah... I think I left it at the consulate.”
Minister Elroy looked at him in disbelief, then at Almog. “Dan…” he addressed him by his first name, warningly.
"Mickey!” Almog recovered and turned to me. “How much time until the speech at Rice?”
"An hour-and-a-half.”
"Grab one of the escort cars and get this damn speech ASAP.” The minister and his entourage were impressed and relaxed.
“And do whatever it takes,” he added.
53.
“Would it be possible tomorrow?”
"No,” Shoshi said, closing the door to the mail room behind her.
I stuck Giora’s number in my pocket and was now looking for the gun in the office, for emergency situations only.
“Do you have anyone in Seattle?” Her complaining voice had a new tone of urgency. She had found something interesting.
“No, I don’t. I have to find something.” Dorothy was gone. She was with the community leaders, waiting to hear the minister of science.
I thought Giora would have to be crazy to stay in the United States. Last week the Americans issued a subpoena for Giora to appear and testify before a Justice Department commission of inquiry investigating hostile activity within the United States. Our arrest in Galveston had caused a number of U.S. government officials in DC to hit the roof. The Attorney General of Israel had already replied that Giora acted within the framework of his defined duties and under diplomatic immunity. Therefore, he had been advised not to appear before any commission of inquiry.
Of course, the answer only annoyed the Americans more; but if they were to know he was here, he and whoever had sent him would be in deep shit.
So would anyone who dared to be in touch with him now.
"I mistakenly received a postcard sent to you from Seattle,” Shoshi continued .
“Mistakenly”? Yeah right. She loves to stick her nose in and peek at any personal correspondence. Whose life was she trying to screw up? I wanted to slap her.
“That makes no sense,” I replied. “Tell me about it tomorrow, we’ll see what it is. I have to finish something here.” To my amazement, she locked the door and took out the key. She had found the time to have fun. I could not help but think of the high score Almog gave to her lovemaking. That was probably not the time, and I was certainly not the right man. Noni had warned me she was on the verge of collapse. Maybe he was right.
“This is a short postcard,” she whispered. “‘All well, NG.’”
I was waiting, on the verge of an explosion. What the hell did she want from me?
"Who’s NG?” Shoshi’s expression was strange.
"I have no idea. Look, I’m gonna break down the door if you don’t open it.”
"Who’s NG?” She bit her lower lip, reached in the pocket of her pantsuit and pulled out, to my amazement, a Beretta. It was the standard firearm diplomatic messengers used for protection. She must have lifted it from Noni. He had been trying to tell me something about a gun. She pointed the gun at me.
"Hey! Watch out!” I yelled at her. She could easily discharge a bullet. “What happened to you? Are you crazy? Is it all because of someone in Seattle?” Who do I know in Seattle? Who could it be? Who was NG?
Then, like a punch in the face, the realization struck me. NG had to be Angie. Angela had arrived safely from where she had been seeking refuge. But why would Shoshi care about all this?
Shoshi saw the understanding dawn on my face and said in the same feverish voice, “I want the twelve million back.”
"I don’t have it on me, obviously.” There was no point in being naïve, but I could try to stall for time.
Shoshi was having none of it. Without another word, she shot me. I grabbed my shoulder in astonishment. It hurt like a shark bite. I knew she would fire!
“You fucking liar!” she screamed. She dropped the frozen expression. She was back to being the whiny and hysterical Shoshi I knew.
"Open your mouth! Open your mouth!” she barked. What did she want? She stuck the Beretta deep into my mouth. I almost vomited. There were hysterical knocks on the door.
"What is going on there?” shouted the security guard.
"Get away from the door!” Shoshi yelled. “Shut your mouth!” she hissed at me. “Bite down! Hard!”
I almost shattered my teeth on the barrel. The madwoman would shoot at the slightest provocation. She opened the door. She carried her huge shoulder bag, as she pulled me along with the gun, my teeth clenched on it.
“Open the doors!” she yelled at the security guard, and he obeyed her. Saar was at the hotel, overseeing security for the delegation. Benny, communications student and backup security guard, left much to be desired. He defied regulations by listening to Shoshi; procedure dictated that he neutralize her before anything, even at the cost of risking my life.
“A low price in the morning becomes a high price in the evening,” any hostage negotiator would tell you. Still, it was fortunate for me that he did so; otherwise my brain would have been smeared across the ceiling and my corpse on the floor. What luck!
Our Spanish-speaking custodian Pedro stared wide-eyed as we emerged from the office and walked toward the elevator, Benny escorting us. However, as the doors began to close, I watched out of the corner of my eye as Benny darted out, back to his station. I hoped he was heading for the telephone, to report what had happened. Good thing he was so flexible. A proper security officer, rather than backup, would have shot by now. It was also a good thing that he didn’t try running after the elevator, to save me. Things would have ended much worse then.
The Consulate Conspiracy Page 27
