Ein Kerem
Seven days after Assassinations
Four days to Announcement
Shiri hefted the snorkeling gear in his hand. It was heavy. He had an explanation if anyone asked him about it.
The hotel had a renowned swimming pool that was deeper than most in similar hotels. Shiri was learning snorkeling. He would practice during his downtime. He was confident his answer would be bought.
It is in the delivery. Confidence, eye contact, no muscle twitches. He and Magal were experienced liars. They needed to be, for the business they were in.
His partner had called him in the night, when he was en route from Moscow. ‘It’s done.’
‘Clean kill?’
‘Yes. No traces of me.’
Shiri had sighed. ‘You used a blade, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, so what?’
‘It’s like a signature, Eliel. We have discussed this several times.’
‘Yes, but no one is going to connect me to Raskov.’
Shiri had dropped the matter. He could sense his friend was high from the killing. He wouldn’t be open to reasoning.
‘The handler has arranged about a dozen shooters. In Jerusalem,’ Magal told him.
‘So quickly?’
‘Yes. Looks like he has such assassins in many countries. He has given me the contact of the team leader. Did you study the hotel’s plans?’
‘Yes.’
‘You saw the water tank on the roof?’ Magal interrupted him.
‘Yes.’
‘Great. That will be our escape. Get snorkeling gear. Get explosives. I will explain when I reach there.’
‘Don’t need them. The explosives. The IDF personnel have them. I know where they store them.’
Shiri caught a cab to the Jerusalem Galaxy with his extra gear.
Jerusalem Galaxy
By seven am, all the kidon were up, dressed in casual clothing, earbuds in place, weapons discreetly holstered, roaming in their locations. A few had gone back to their apartments early in the morning to bring extra gear they would need.
The previous night, Zeb had assigned Carmel to be the overall team lead for the Mossad operatives. He and the sisters watched as she had briefed every operative and assigned sectors to each one of them. These were different from what each one had in the planning.
The Galaxy had twenty floors, each with a balcony that overlooked the lobby. The guest rooms started from the third floor, which was where Zeb was.
He watched from his vantage position as Carmel moved across the floor and talked briefly with Navon, Riva and Adir. The three of them, along with Eliel when he returned from Haifa, would be responsible for eyeing every visitor to the hotel.
The female operative moved on and met with her counterparts from other agencies. She spent a few minutes with a tall man with bristling grey hair: Moshe Abhyan, the IDF colonel who was the overall commander for the security operation.
Zeb had introduced himself and the twins and had come away impressed. The man knew his job. Equally important, he wouldn’t interfere in Zeb’s setup. All was good so long as there was coordination between the various cogs in the security machine.
The Galaxy continued to function as normal. Or as normally as feasible. It received guests, checked them out, hosted various events in its conference rooms. The only changes were the highly visible presence of armed guards and the lockdown of two floors.
What only Zeb, the sisters, Levin and a few others knew was that the guests were all IDF personnel. All of them had been stationed abroad and had been recalled for just this mission. They were aware of the risks and had volunteered.
The fifth floor was where the twelve negotiators met and conducted their day-long discussions. That floor was guarded by an elite unit composed of police and IDF personnel. No kidon was allowed to go deep on that floor. Food and drinks were served by guards from that unit.
The twelfth was where the negotiators had their rooms. The Galaxy had cleared the floor of all other guests, and this, too, was similarly guarded.
Zeb felt a presence beside him: Beth, and behind her, Meghan. ‘All set?’
They both nodded. They were in the hotel’s basement, where the hotel’s offices were. The sisters had set up shop adjacent to Abhyan’s command room. It had secure lines, racks of servers, monitors that viewed every floor of the hotel, and personnel eyeing every feed.
Werner didn’t require a giant server. It was present in the various devices the twins had and sent alerts if it flagged any anomaly.
So far, Werner had remained silent.
‘I am not happy.’ Meghan gripped the polished brass rail and leaned forward to get a better view of the lobby.
‘She’s been griping about this all day,’ Beth smirked.
‘All day? It’s not even eight am.’
‘Griping about what?’ Zeb interrupted before the argument escalated.
‘She thinks we should take Carmel into our confidence.’
‘It’s not fair, Zeb,’ Meghan’s eyes flashed. ‘We should tell all of them. If you didn’t trust them, you shouldn’t have involved these fifteen kidon.’
‘I agree.’
Her jaw dropped. Beth looked at him, openmouthed. Neither sister had expected him to cave in so easily.
‘We’ll tell Carmel. But no other kidon. She will understand. I think they will, too. Need to know. The fewer people who know, the more chances our trap will succeed. If they don’t,’ he shrugged, ‘it’s Levin’s problem.’
‘She might tell Dalia,’ Meghan said after a pause, as she worked out his reasoning.
‘Her privilege. I trust the two of them without reservation.’
‘We do, too,’ Beth proclaimed. ‘We like them, in fact. Riva, too.’
‘When will you tell them?’
‘Now,’ Zeb pointed to an armored vehicle that had driven up to the hotel.
Alice Monash stepped out of the vehicle and was immediately surrounded by Bob and his team.
‘We’ll take it from here,’ Zeb told the protection leader. He shook hands with the ambassador and introduced Carmel, who had followed him, to her. The diplomat smiled at the sisters and walked inside the hotel.
Zeb led her to an elevator manned by a guard.
‘Fifth,’ he told the man.
The kidon waited outside. Pressed the button to shut the doors when everyone was inside.
Zeb jammed his leg between the sliding panels. ‘You, too,’ he told her.
Carmel looked at him quizzically for a moment and then joined him. Her eyes swept over the ambassador and the twins. Spotted the barely concealed smirk on Beth’s face.
‘Something’s up?’ she asked Zeb.
‘You’ll see,’ Beth chortled.
They arrived at their floor and the entourage moved swiftly on soft carpet. Two guards outside a conference room.
‘Just two guards?’ Carmel looked surprised.
‘Two are enough.’ Beth couldn’t suppress her grin.
The security personnel straightened and nodded at Zeb, who pulled open a door and ushered his companions inside.
Six men and women were seated around a large, oval table. They were in IDF uniform. The remains of a hearty breakfast were beside each one of them. All of them were playing cards.
‘Join us?’ one woman flashed a smile at Zeb.
Carmel stood, stunned. She looked uncomprehendingly at each soldier, at the ambassador, the sisters and then at Zeb.
‘What’s this?’ she whispered.
‘The negotiators are at an IDF base.’
She grabbed a vacant chair, occupied it and composed herself rapidly.
‘This was part of the trap.’
‘Yes.’
‘The ambassador?’
‘I had to be here,’ Alice Monash said, gripping Carmel’s forearm reassuringly. ‘To make it look real. This was Zeb’s idea—’
‘Actually, ma’am,’ Meghan drawled, ‘it was ours. Zeb likes to take credit.’
‘Their idea. Beth and Meghan Petersen’s, in case you have any doubts,’ the ambassador said, bobbing her head in acknowledgment. ‘This room was supposed to be empty as per Zeb’s plan. The sisters thought it would be better if it was occupied. By IDF soldiers.’
‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ Carmel’s face tinged pink in anger.
‘You can guess why,’ Zeb answered. ‘The trap has to be good for it to be believable. There’s more. You have seen guests in this hotel. They are IDF soldiers. Many of the hotel staff have been replaced by military personnel. In fact, the hotel is almost empty. These guests are coming and going, wandering around, to give the impression the Galaxy is busy.’
Carmel’s knuckles whitened. Her lips thinned.
‘I have fourteen kidon,’ she hissed, ‘who think the negotiators are here. They are willing to risk their lives to catch the killers. You concealed all this from us!’
‘Your operatives wouldn’t risk their lives if this room was empty? If they knew everything?’
That floored her. She grabbed a bottle of water and drank it. Wiped her lips and looked away for several moments. The soldiers carried on with their game, ignoring the byplay.
‘You are right,’ Carmel accepted. ‘I overreacted. I am sorry—’
‘Hey,’ Meghan caught her shoulder. ‘Don’t say that to him. He’s a mean, selfish guy.’
That brought smiles all around.
‘We are good?’ Zeb asked her.
‘We are.’ Carmel stood up, her game face coming on. ‘Ma’am,’ she addressed the ambassador, ‘I guess you’ll join these hard-working people at their game.’
‘You’re just jealous,’ the female soldier ribbed her. ‘Zeb, can you work it out with our general? We would like a permanent posting here.’
‘I guess I shouldn’t be telling any of the kidon about this,’ Carmel murmured when she left, along with Zeb and the Petersens.
‘That’s right.’
‘Dalia, too? We don’t have secrets between us.’
‘Tell her.’
Moscow
Grigor Andropov was angry. No, he was incensed. He controlled it well, however. He had arrived at Peter Raskov’s apartment an hour back. Only to find it flooded with police.
A neighbor who had the habit of sharing a morning coffee with the FSB agent had called them when the Russian didn’t answer his door.
Andropov had flashed his credentials to the officers at the door and gawped at the scene when he entered the apartment.
Peter Raskov was clearly dead. His manner of demise was horrific, however. He had been slashed. Neat cuts across his body, as if the killer wanted to inflict the maximum pain.
‘Who did it? Any clues?’ Andropov asked a policeman.
‘Nyet. The ublyudok is good,’ the officer swore. ‘The apartment is clean. No one saw anything or heard anything.’
Andropov knew the FSB agent could have been killed by anyone. It could be a simple burglary gone wrong. Or a foreign agency targeting the Russian.
It could also be someone who knew I was enquiring about Raskov.
‘Here,’ he gave his card to the officer. ‘Keep me in the loop.’
‘Everything goes to my commander.’
‘I’ll take it from him as well. But I want to hear from you first.’
The officer looked at the title on Andropov’s card and nodded slowly. It never hurt to have friends in high places.
‘Da,’ he agreed.
Jerusalem Galaxy
‘What?’ Zeb turned away quickly and moved to a corner of the lobby.
‘Raskov is dead.’ Andropov sounded weary on the call. ‘Cut by a knife. Killer and weapon not found.’
Zeb didn’t reply immediately. His mind raced as he tried to work out what this killing meant. Where it fit in the jigsaw.
‘You there?’
‘Yeah,’ he replied and straightened his shoulders when he saw who was walking through the Galaxy’s entrance. ‘Let me know what you find. I gotta go.’
Eliel had arrived.