Washington, D.C.
April 19
They exited the Mayflower and turned left, following Connecticut Avenue toward the White House. Ellison dialed the number and was connected on the fourth ring. “Good morning Mr. Prime Minister, this is Cliff Ellison,” he said, his tone cheerful.
“It’s not even 8:00 a.m. here, which means you’re calling me in the middle of your night. Don’t tell me there is a problem with approval of the arms sale—we need those F16s and missiles.”
Ellison forced a short chuckle. If only that was the problem. “The House will vote to approve the sale tomorrow, and the President has promised to sign the bill.”
“Excellent news. So, what is this about?”
“An issue has come up. One that could best be solved if we work together.”
“I see. What do you have in mind?” the Prime Minister said.
“I’m on my way to my office now. Should be there in half an hour. Would you set up a secure conference line? Text the number to me, and I’ll dial in.”
The pair hailed a taxi and ten minutes later they were entering the office building where Cliff Ellison worked when he was in Washington. It was located next to the Longworth House Office Building and across the street from the Capitol. The lobby guard nodded. “Working late again, Mr. Ellison?”
He replied with a smile. “Good evening, Louie. Afraid so. Seems there is always some pressing matter to resolve.”
With Angela Meyers standing at his side, he rode the elevator to the third floor and strode in silence to his office. The lights were still on—he never turned them off, a peculiar habit. Ellison felt the vibration from his phone: a text from David Feldman. It was a phone number, nothing else. He seated himself behind his desk and dialed the number. Meyers pulled a chair up to the opposite side of the desk.
“This line is secure,” Feldman said. “I trust you have taken precautions at your end?”
Given his senior position within United Armaments—one of the largest defense contractors globally—Cliff Ellison utilized the latest encryption technology to ensure confidential communications.
“Naturally,” he said. He had the phone on speaker so Angela Meyers would also hear the conversation in its entirety. “Thank you, Mr. Prime Minister, for making time in your busy schedule.”
Cliff Ellison and David Feldman had known each other for years. In fact, Ellison had met many of the world’s presidents and prime ministers, as well as genocidal dictators, through his business of selling weapons. One of the perks of the job, he thought, was to rub shoulders with the world’s most revered and reviled leaders—sometimes both at the same social gathering.
A member of the right-wing Jewish Home Party, David Feldman could not have been more different from Ellison. In fact, if they did not share a common interest in arms, the two men would have little to bind their friendship.
David Feldman was ambitious, having risen to power after serving as the Minister of Defense under Benjamin Netanyahu. Past middle age but not yet old, Feldman believed he was destined to lead Israel to a greatness that would rival the achievements of King David, his namesake. The stress of office had not yet grayed his black hair or etched his face with deep wrinkles. He was single and often discussed in the tabloids as a womanizer, but nothing scandalous had ever been made to stick.
Prime Minister Feldman was immensely popular at home. He was a hardliner, appealing to a call for better security and a more nationalist government. His position was that you were either a supporter of Israel, or you were against Israel—in his mind there was no middle ground, no room for compromise. The Jewish Nation had to be strong to be secure. And that strength required a deeper level of military and political support from the United States.
“I’ll get right to the point,” Ellison said. “A situation has developed here that is most inconvenient. If it continues unchecked, the publicity will be detrimental to our mutual goals.”
“Before you go on,” Feldman said, “I should tell you that Yossi Winer is with me. We were discussing another matter, but since I value Yossi’s opinion, I asked him to stay.”
“Very good. I’m sure your National Security Adviser will have a strong interest in this… problem.”
“Hello Mr. Ellison,” Yossi greeted. “The Prime Minister speaks very highly of you. I look forward to meeting in person.”
“As do I.”
“Perhaps when the fighter aircraft are delivered?”
“Certainly. But now we must focus on another issue.” He went on to explain the top-secret information that had been illegally accessed. He summarized the efforts to contain the leak but avoided mention of the two murders. Finally, Ellison concluded with the recent revelation that Peter Savage had somehow gained access to the files. Whether he had copies under his control or not remained unknown.
“The information, by itself, is of little value to anyone other than twentieth century historians,” Yossi said.
“Historians don’t hack into top-secret government files,” Ellison retorted.
“I suppose you are right,” Feldman interjected. “So, I assume you need help from Israeli Intelligence?”
“That’s correct, sir,” Ellison replied. “We need to know how the deleted emails were recovered from Emma Jones’ account, and who did it. But more importantly, we must know the disposition of those files.”
“I’m quite certain our cyber security unit can trace the activity related to the email account,” Yossi explained. “But if files were downloaded it will be unlikely, perhaps impossible, to determine who has access to them now.”
“Not impossible,” Ellison said. “The files are coded with a unique lock that records both the computer IP address and the Internet service provider address—basically a tracking cookie. I will provide you with this log.”
“Why not use resources in your country?” Feldman asked. “After all, you are saying the information was illegally acquired. I would think your FBI could solve this for you rather quickly.”
“It’s too risky, Mr. Prime Minister. If this information is somehow leaked, we will have a real mess. It would only take one whistleblower—someone like Edward Snowden—and our plans will be ruined. Can you imagine the public outcry if the truth were revealed?”
The line was silent and Ellison believed that David was doing just that, imagining what could happen if he refused to help. “Yes, I see your point. Yossi will have a team ready to track down the wayward path of this data file. Send the log and other relevant information to my email and I’ll make certain Yossi gets it without delay.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ellison said. “Now, the second part of my request.”
“There’s more?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. We need to be prepared to shut this down. In a little more than two weeks, the House and Senate will vote to override Taylor’s veto. When Abraham Schuman secures that win in Congress, he will be unstoppable, sweeping the election in November. If the information leaks out after the election, it won’t matter—it will be too late.”
Yossi understood the implied message. “I presume you have operators there who can handle this situation. Why do you need assistance from the Israeli government?”
“Of course,” Ellison said. “I am simply trying to mitigate risk. You see, my operators are all former military. If one or more were to be injured or worse… well, they will be easily identified through prints and dental records. That’s a loose end we cannot afford.”
“I see,” Yossi replied.
The Prime Minister cleared his throat. “So, let’s be candid, shall we? After all, this is a secure line. I have already taken on substantial risk by instructing one of our Mossad operators to plant those Iranian grenades in New York a couple months ago. That request came from Ms. Meyers, if I remember correctly.”
Angela cleared her throat. “Yes, you are correct, Mr. Prime Minister. It was a useful measure to bolster opposition to Iran and strengthen popular support for Israel leading up to the vote on the Israeli Security Act. As you know, the Act was authored by Speaker Schuman.”
“I see. And now you are asking if I will send a team to help you again. Agents who will not be easily identified by their fingerprints. Agents who are unknown to your law enforcement and government. Am I correct?”
Ellison exchanged a quick glance with Angela Meyers, and a small grin formed. “Yes. You are correct. It is merely an insurance policy, and I suspect your National Security Adviser would agree that this is a prudent measure.”
Yossi didn’t accept this simplistic explanation. “You would not require a covert team if there was no risk. We must consider this request with the understanding that these are loyal Israeli lives we are placing in jeopardy.”
“True. However, Mossad operators accept risk every day. Israel has many enemies—your country is surrounded by hostile nations. The Prime Minister and I share a dream of a time, very soon, when Israel will be so powerful as to vanquish your enemies for good.”
“Yossi and I will work out the details,” Feldman said, ending the debate. “I’ll provide Yossi’s email contact. Please coordinate directly through him. Now, I presume that is all?”
“Thank you, Mr. Prime Minister. I’ll work out the details with Mr. Winer. And I promise to see you in Tel Aviv when the aircraft are delivered.”