Chapter Twenty-one
Al-Zemrah, Iraq
Justin’s options were extremely limited. He could strongly deny he was a covert operative and maintain he was just a Peshmerga fighter returning to his base. Or he could tell the truth and put his fate in Isaac’s hands. Neither option held great appeal, nor was he sure which one to choose. His team had made it so far inside Iraq with only a skirmish with the border guards. And they had ended up in the hands of a non-hostile group. Justin was reluctant to tempt fate and maintain the team’s cover story. If one of the Peshmergas whose names Justin gave to the Mossad agent had a slip of the tongue, the cover story would be blown. The repercussions might not be deadly, but they could be grave. At the very least, Justin’s mission would be exposed.
On the other hand, if Justin admitted the team’s true identity, he would have to accept Isaac’s “assignment.” Whatever that was, it was going to be a difficult and sensitive operation, something Isaac was reluctant to carry out on his own or assign to the fighters under his command. Justin’s dealings with Mossad had never gone well, and they had always put him or left him in very dangerous, almost impossible-to-get-out-of situations.
Then, there was the small matter of whether Isaac was truly a Mossad agent or setting a trap. While it was true that very few people would openly admit to being an operative for the Israeli intelligence agency—widely hated across Iraq and Syria—Justin had not seen a shred of evidence besides Isaac’s word. Yes, perhaps we should start there.
He glanced at his watch. It had been maybe ten minutes since Isaac had left. Justin walked to the door and pounded it with his fist. “Hey, guard, guard.”
“What is it?” a harsh voice said from the other side.
“I’d like to talk to Isaac. Tell him I’m ready to make a deal.”
The voice did not reply, but Justin heard shuffling across the hall. A long minute passed, then the footsteps returned. The rattle of keys against the metal door, then the now-familiar creak.
Isaac stepped inside the room. “You’re ready to tell me who you are?”
Justin gestured toward the door. “Let’s close that.”
“Sure.” Isaac nodded at the guard.
When he had closed the door behind him, Justin walked to the next wall, the farthermost from the door. Isaac stood about four feet away from him and said, “So?”
“First, how’s al-Rawi doing?”
Isaac shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything good or bad from the doctor. That means he’s still alive.”
Justin nodded. “All right, I’ll tell you the truth, but I need to make sure I know who I’m talking to.”
Isaac nodded. “I was expecting you to say that. What proof do you need?”
“What can you offer?”
Isaac unholstered his pistol and waved it toward Justin. “You know what this is?”
“I can’t really tell; it’s too far.” Justin reached out with his hand.
Isaac grinned and shook his head. “It’s not happening.” He tightened his fingers around the pistol and kept it pointed at Justin’s chest. “This is a Barak SP21 9mm. Double-action; fast target acquisition, recoil operated. I can always carry it ‘cocked and locked.’ Very hard to find.”
Justin nodded. “But not impossible.”
“Right.” Isaac returned the pistol to his holster, then took a couple of steps back and reached for his right ankle. He pulled another pistol from the holster hidden underneath his pant leg. “This is a Jericho 941 PSL9. This one is 9mm too, but single action. Again, ready at all times.”
Justin said, “Unlikely someone has two Israeli-made pistols on him.”
“That’s what I thought.” Isaac put the Jericho pistol away. “You need more evidence, right?”
Justin held Isaac’s eyes for a long moment. “Yes.”
Isaac shrugged. “I don’t have an ID or anything in the form of credentials. That would be foolish to possess, and you know that. But there’s a number you can call. I’ll give you a number, my personal ID number, and they’ll confirm my first and last name’s initials, IS. And that should be sufficient.”
Justin nodded. The identification system worked similarly to the CIS’s, with the exception that the caller needed to provide a code, which was individually assigned to the operative. There was always the possibility this was a cover, but Justin had a feeling Isaac was not lying about his identity. So Justin said, “Yes, that will be good.”
Isaac smiled. He pulled a phone from one of his vest’s pockets and dialed a number. He waited a moment for the clear signal, then handed the phone to Justin.
He glanced at the screen, and noticed the Israel and Tel Aviv area codes, 972-3. Mossad’s headquarters was in Tel Aviv. A moment later, a sharp female voice said something rapidly in a language Justin could not understand, and which he assumed was Hebrew. “I’d like to confirm someone’s identity,” he said in Arabic.
A moment of hesitation, then the woman switched to Arabic, “Yes, sure, go ahead with the number...”
Justin looked at Isaac, who recited the number. Justin repeated it and waited for a brief moment.
The woman said, “The initials are IS. To re-confirm, the initials are IS. Anything else?”
“No, that’s all. Thank you.”
The woman hung up without another word.
Justin handed the phone to Isaac. “You are who you say you are,” Justin said in a low, thoughtful tone.
“And you are...”
Justin switched to English. “My name’s Hall, Justin Hall, and I work for the CIS, the Canadian Intelligence Service.”
Isaac gave Justin a sideways glance. “I wasn’t expecting that. I thought you were CIA,” he replied in English as well, with a thick accent.
“Sorry to disappoint you. Would you like to confirm?” He gestured toward the phone.
Isaac shook his head. “No, it’s not necessary.”
“You trust me?”
“No, I trust my ability to figure out you were a secret operative. It doesn’t really matter if you’re American or Canadian.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“I do. Now, what are you doing in Iraq?”
“Looking for someone.”
“Who?”
“I’m not authorized to tell you that.”
“Perhaps I can help you find him.”
Justin thought about his reply. Isaac’s men could provide sufficient firepower to search for Lim, but Justin would need to run that idea by Flavio and seek his authorization. “You might be able to. I’ll get back to you on that.”
Isaac gestured for Justin to sit down. “Now, I’ll tell you what I want.”
He waited until they were both sitting face to face, then said, “I have a package that needs to be delivered.”
“What’s the destination?”
“The Syrian border.”
Justin frowned. “What’s the package?”
“Three men. They need to get back to Syria.”
“And who are they?”
“You don’t need or want to know.”
Justin’s frown deepened. “Why not?”
“What did I just say?”
“I heard you, but since I’m risking my life—”
“These men will present no problem to you or your team. They are wounded … well, they’re better now, and they’ll be in handcuffs.”
“They’re not your men, or you don’t trust them...”
Isaac shrugged. “That doesn’t matter to you. It’s a tactical move, and all I need from you is to take care of it. Now, will you do that?”
“Do I have a choice in the matter?”
“Yes, you can say ‘no.’”
Justin grinned. “Right. Who else is going with me?”
“You can take your foreign fighter from France, who is a CIS operative, right?”
Justin nodded.
“What’s her name?”
“O’Connor, Carrie.”
“Yes, you can take Carrie and leave the Chinese—”
“No, she comes with—”
“No, she doesn’t. I need to make sure you’re going to keep your word.”
“I will.”
“I’ve heard that way too many times, from people I thought were noble and men of honor.”
“I’m not like that, Isaac.”
“That’s exactly what they said.” Isaac’s voice had turned firm. “She stays, and nothing bad will happen to her as long as you complete your task.”
Justin opened his mouth, but Isaac cut him off with a stern headshake. “I’m not changing my mind, Justin.”
“All right, all right. When are we leaving?”
“Right away. They needed to be in Syria two days ago.”
“And why didn’t that happen?”
“There were some complications. Now let’s get you ready.”
Justin nodded slowly. A sliver of doubt crept into his mind. He felt he was making a serious mistake. He shrugged. Justin always felt a bit nervous when readying for an operation, especially one he had very little control over. The adrenaline rushed through his body, sending his mind and senses into overdrive. He drew in a deep breath, then walked in front of Isaac.