Jerusalem
Two days after Assassinations
Nine Days to Announcement
Grigor Andropov ran a secretive intelligence outfit in Russia, similar to the Agency. While the media and the lay population knew of the FSB, only a few in the intelligence community were aware of Andropov’s organization.
‘Moy droog!’ Zeb winced and held the phone away from his ear when the Russian’s voice boomed in his phone. ‘You have forgotten me.’
‘Grigor, you got to go easy on the vodka, especially this time of the morning.’ It was just eleven am and Andropov never drank while in the office, but it was a standing joke between them.
‘Where are you, and how did you remember me?’
‘Israel,’ Zeb answered, knowing the spymaster would have triangulated his location from his call. ‘Don’t ask why. I need to know about an FSB agent, one Peter Raskov.’
‘That’s a mess, those killings. I bet Avichai’s back is to the wall.’
‘I haven’t met him, Grigor,’ Zeb lied smoothly.
‘I hope you find those killers soon,’ Andropov said, ignoring him. ‘The longer they are out there, the more damage they can do.’
That fox. He’s connected the dots just by my presence in Jerusalem and my call.
‘Grigor,’ he sighed theatrically, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Peter Raskov. Have you heard of him?’
Andropov turned serious immediately. ‘No, but then, FSB’s got several agents. I don’t know all of them. You’re sure he’s one of theirs?’
‘That’s what I have been told. I want to know if he is FSB, where he is currently and what he’s up to.’
‘I’ll get back to you. Take care, droog,’ his voice turned sly, ‘and save the world.’
The U.S. had an uneasy relationship with Russia and the intelligence agencies in the two countries weren’t friendly. However, Zeb’s friendship with Andropov went beyond national ties. Their bond had been forged over several black-ops missions, and the two kept a channel open, frequently exchanging intel that might help both. It also helped that he had saved Grigor’s life on a few occasions.
Zeb logged in to his screen and smiled when he read the message from Levin.
‘Thick? Heavyset? You should have given me advance notice. You were wearing another disguise when with Carmel and Dalia. I blindly said yes when Navon called. By the way, I asked you to investigate my operatives. Not damage them.’
‘It looks like Mossad’s training lacks one vital piece. I did you a favor. I completed that for Yakov,’ he messaged back.
‘What’s that?’
‘I taught him manners.’
Levin responded with a string of curses.
Zeb’s smile faded when he saw the email from Clare. It had Alice Monash’s flight details.
Lands at Ben Gurion at seven pm. Which means I’ll have to leave Jerusalem at about five-thirty. I still don’t know how I am going to investigate all remaining kidon before the press conference.
He glanced at his watch. Twelve pm. Maybe he could squeeze in another operative before he met the ambassador.
Zeb went with the heavyset man disguise. Eliel and Navon might inform the other operatives how I look.
He went out to street level and took a moment to orient himself. Musrara was where he wanted to be. The neighborhood nestled between the Russian Compound, Meah Shearim and the Old City. It had stone streets, some of them embedded with ornate marble designs, houses of differing architecture, modern juxtaposed with the old.
Half an hour later he was at a large grocery store in the neighborhood. He took a metal shopping cart and wheeled it inside, searching the various aisles like other customers.
Levin’s files were incredibly detailed. They had the daily routines for each of the kidon when they were off missions.
Meir, the operative Zeb was looking for, visited that particular store every day at noon when he was in Jerusalem. He was one of the few kidon who had a partner, a girlfriend.
Zeb spotted him near the deli counter. Closely cropped hair, watchful eyes, dressed in white tee and loose trousers. A woman beside him. They were eating olives from a sampling plate, their teeth flashing as they conversed and laughed.
I can’t do anything here. Not with her around.
No innocents to be involved. That was a rule he rarely crossed.
As Zeb watched, Meir drank from a bottle of water and handed it to his girlfriend. She glugged from it, capped it and tossed it in their basket.
That gave him an idea.
There was no label on that bottle. Plastic, small, nothing distinguishable about it.
He wheeled his cart closer to them and randomly tossed several items into it. Their backs were to him when he passed them, their trolley to his right. He glanced swiftly and assessed the bottle. Yeah, no label. He got an idea of the water level and went to the drinks aisle.
He scanned the shelves and finally found a bottle that looked identical to Meir’s. He parked his cart in a corner, went to checkout and paid for his bottle. He went outside and stripped it of its label. Unscrewed its top and drank until the level was close to what the kidon had.
He removed a soluble tracker from his backpack and dropped it in the bottle. Shook it rapidly to dissolve and waited for the water to clear.
He went back inside, retrieved his cart and went to the deli section. Meir and his friend were still at the olives plate, but now were sharing a pastry. Zeb rolled his cart over to theirs and leaned over their shoulder.
‘Can you reach that for me?’ he asked Meir, pointing toward a slice of cake that was beyond his reach.
‘Sure,’ the kidon replied and leaned forward. For a moment, Meir and his girlfriend were distracted, which was when Zeb switched bottles.
‘Toda,’ he thanked the operative. Went to the counter, paid for the slice, and ate it messily.
The couple averted their eyes and strolled away. No one wanted to see a clumsy eater and even hardened operatives disregarded such persons as a threat.
Zeb wiped his fingers on a paper towel and threw it in the bin. He pushed his cart and, as he was overtaking them, burped noisily.
He watched Meir and his companion discreetly as he paid for his shopping. Was gratified when both drank some more water, paying no attention to its container.
Once back in his room, two more green dots appeared on his screen.
He could now enter Meir’s apartment when the kidon was away.