Chapter Twelve

 

 

December 17

ECS Stockholm Station

Sweden

 

On the way back to the station, Justin thought about Karolin. Their last call had not gone well. Their relationship had been rocky, and recently Justin had not had any time for her. He thought being transferred to Europe meant he would be closer to Karolin. It did, but only in the geographical sense of the word. They were still spending very little time together. Justin and Karolin had had more contact during the time Justin was running a covert operation in Germany than now that he was officially stationed in Austria.

He shrugged and frowned. His mind went to Carrie’s words about losing Karolin. What if Carrie’s right? What if I’ve gone too far? What if . . . it’s already too late? He shook his head. Maybe I should call her. But what do I say? It’ll be Christmas soon, and I have no clue about what I’m doing in this op, let alone finding time to spend with Karolin.

He sighed and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. Justin loved his job, but it came at a very steep cost. Personal relationships were hard to create and even harder to keep. Fearing he would lose loved ones anyway, he was often the one to push them away. Am I doing the same with Karolin?

The question bounced around in his mind for several moments. As he turned onto the road leading to the station, he drew in a few deep breaths. He stopped the Volkswagen and rolled down the window, letting in the cool air. He filled his lungs with the fresh air, then turned off the engine and stepped outside. A short walk will help clear my mind.

He circled the ECS station apartment block in the park-like setting of the Hagalund residential area. Most of the streets and sidewalks were clear of snow and a couple of residents were out walking their dogs. To keep a low profile, Justin crossed the street and disappeared behind a couple of houses.

Ten minutes later, he was back in his car with a sharp mind and a positive attitude. The operation was his number one priority. Yes, Karolin was extremely important, but she would have to wait.

Justin found Carrie and Vale elbow-deep in paperwork spread on the dining table. Carrie had written a few names and had drawn some lines on a whiteboard mounted on the wall by the window. She looked up at Justin and said, “Hey, how did it go with Arkady?”

“As expected. He was mostly vague but gave me a couple of pieces of intel we can use to learn more,” Justin said.

He told them about Arkady’s mission in Syria, the mole who had given away secrets to the terrorists, and the operation to kill or capture al-Nueimi.

Carrie kept notes on her laptop, glancing only occasionally at the keyboard. When Justin was finished, she said, “I’ll check those names and dates, to see if they match. I mean, if Arkady is lying, this is a cover story, and details will be in place to support his cover. But maybe Arkady wasn’t expecting his name to come up, and this mole story is all made up.”

Vale took a drink from his coffee. “Not many people will know about the mole. The op against al-Nueimi will be more or less general knowledge, but even in that case, it will be difficult to determine Arkady’s role.”

“Have you talked to Natalya yet?”

“Yes, I asked her to see what they had on al-Nueimi. She gave me a file, but there was nothing we didn’t know.”

“Ask her about Arkady and SVR’s involvement.”

Carrie nodded. “Will do.”

Justin grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen and returned to the dining room. “Now, you want to explain to me what you have here?” he gestured at the whiteboard.

“Sure.” Carrie leaned back in her chair. She picked up a small laser pointer from the table near her laptop. “We analyzed al-Nueimi’s background, what we know or thought we knew about him, comparing the different intel sources. Starting way back before he left Iraq to move to Syria and then to Europe, we confirmed that he lived with his family in Mosul. Then, al-Nueimi moved to Baghdad, but, contrary to what we have believed so far, al-Nueimi left his family in Mosul.”

“They never went with him to Baghdad?”

“No, and there’s no intel about al-Nueimi ever going to Baghdad either. He went to Tikrit and Ramadi, when they were still under ISIS control—as confirmed by more than one report—and then to Syria.” Carrie moved the tip of the laser pointer to a square where she had written “Syria,” which was connected by a number of straight lines to the first square named “Iraq.” She continued, “Back in Iraq, we studied ground ops of all foreign forces operating in the area, including security contractors and Peshmergas, since they also have foreigners and westerners in their units. The timelines are a bit fuzzy—since we can’t determine with certainty when al-Nueimi left Mosul—but it seems two ops fit the profile. The first one was a coalition forces op to retrieve a TOW missile cache that was expected to fall into the hands of ISIS. But the op went sideways, and four civilians, including two children, died, and a few more were wounded.”

Justin sat next to Carrie. “But that wasn’t al-Nueimi’s family?”

Carrie shrugged. “It’s hard to say with a hundred percent certainty, but the ages don’t match, and neither does the female casualty. So, if we’re correct, that leaves the other one, run by the CIA.”

“The CIA?”

“Yes, a CIA Special Division team went in to eliminate a couple of senior ISIS leaders. Its mission was doomed pretty much from the start, as someone or something seems to have tipped off the residents of the Abbadi neighborhood in northeastern Mosul. They were waiting for the team’s arrival. A fierce firefight followed, and seven civilians were killed, with another dozen wounded.”

“Children?” Justin frowned.

“Yes, three, ages five to eight.”

“The age of al-Nueimi’s son.”

Carrie nodded. “Yes. Again, it’s difficult to establish if it was actually his wife and son, but it seems that way.”

“What does the CIA say?”

“Haven’t contacted them yet. Wanted to run this by you first.”

Justin nodded thoughtfully. “All my contacts in the CIA are avoiding me like the plague. Every time I talk or meet with one of them, something goes horribly wrong.”

Carrie gave Justin a knowing look. “I’ve also burned all bridges.” She glanced at Vale. “Do you have any sources at the CIA?”

“No, not really.”

Justin shifted in his seat. “What happened? I thought you were on good terms with our American cousins.”

“I was, until one of them sold me out. But it’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you sometime over drinks.”

Justin sighed. “All right. I’ll bring this up with Flavio. Maybe he can pull some strings, and we’ll get a bit of intel from the CIA. But this story is getting to be even more interesting.”

“Why is that?” Carrie asked.

Justin thought about his answer for a brief moment. “When I talked to Claudia, she mentioned that the SVR was gathering intel about a CIA op in Mosul. She said the op took place sometime in November.”

Carrie glanced at her laptop. “Let me check the dates.”

“I think it’s the same one,” Vale said.

“Me too. It’s not a coincidence.”

Carrie tapped a few keys, then said, “The dates match.”

“Makes sense,” Justin said. “If the SVR is looking for al-Nueimi and this CIA op targeted him, there’s a clear connection.” He sipped from his cup, then asked, “What else do you have?”

Carrie moved the laser pointer to the right. “Once al-Nueimi arrived in Europe, he contacted his network of associates. Not just ISIS, but a couple of other terrorist groups. Vale and I have identified some of them and are inquiring with European agencies about further intel. Perhaps some of the phone numbers or other data can help us piece together al-Nueimi’s intentions.”

Justin studied the whiteboard. None of the names jumped out at him, but that did not surprise him. Terrorists used a wide array of names and aliases. My memory is not what it used to be when I first started this.

He sighed and finished his coffee. “Great work, Carrie and Vale. Keep at it, and see what else you can find, especially after you’ve talked to Natalya.”

Carrie nodded. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll talk to Flavio about the CIA.”