SEVEN HOURS LATER
CAFALA BAHR, ARABIAN SEA, OFF MUMBAI, INDIA—16:20 / 4:20 P.M. IST
The helicopter crossed the water from the direction of the mainland.
“What does this fool want now?” Salim asked, dripping sweat from the hot, humid air. If he was this miserable, he couldn’t imagine what the general was feeling in his uniform. Since the military man had IRGC troops on board, he didn’t feel it proper to change into his usual comfortable yacht-wear. So he stood there with sweat stains soaking through his jacket.
“I don’t know what he wants, but I do know I didn’t think it was possible for me to loathe him more than I already did. Yet he has proven me wrong.” He finished his ice water and held out his hand. A steward quickly replaced the glass with a fresh one. The general pulled the wedge of lemon from the rim, squeezed it, and pushed it down into the ice.
“All he told me was that this meeting was of utmost urgency,” Saad said. “Obviously, he told you something more since you have a dozen armed soldiers with you.”
“And my interrogator.” Mousavi nodded toward the bar.
“That’s who that is? If Kamal is bringing some sort of prisoner here, I will personally throw him off my boat. That’s not what this vessel is for!”
Saad’s company helicopter was just now within earshot.
“Well, then you better get ready to throw him overboard, habibi. He told me he had a deal I could not refuse. Then he added that I should bring a bodyguard and an interrogator. Oh, and he said you knew all about it and had given your approval.”
Saad was fuming. This is not Al-Ha’ir Prison. This is not some interrogation cell for the General Intelligence Presidency! What is this fool doing?
The ASEnergy chopper eased in and touched down. After the rotors slowed, the doors opened, and a steward stepped out, extending the steps.
Ali Kamal bounded out. “Saad! Arash!” he called from the distance, his arms stretched wide. “My friends, it is so good to see you on such a glorious day.” He crossed the helipad toward the waiting men.
“Oh, wrong again,” Mousavi said to Saad. “He did find a way to make me hate him even more.”
Saad counted eight men in desert camouflage stepping out of his helicopter behind Kamal. They had rifles strapped to their bodies. What he didn’t see was a prisoner of any sort. Four of the soldiers walked behind the copter to the cargo hold, where they unloaded a large trunk. They picked it up and followed their leader.
“As-salamu ‘alaykum,” said Kamal when he reached them.
“Wa-‘alaykum salam,” the two men dutifully replied.
The men with the trunk arrived and dropped it with a thud.
Saad spoke before Kamal had a chance. “I have been speaking with the general, and he told me you asked him to bring an interrogator. What is going on, Ali? I demand to know what is happening on my boat.”
“What is happening is that I have come to make a deal with the general. Quite possibly the deal of the century! I have come to ask for the Houthis, and I want them immediately. In three days, I want all their skinny little bodies and their weapons at my disposal.”
Mousavi laughed. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I can tell you I don’t have that kind of power.”
Kamal smiled and tapped the general on his moist chest. “You may not, but you know who in Tehran does. I will trade you the Houthis for what is in the trunk.” He gave the box a light kick.
The general’s look hardened. “Even if it were full of gold, it would not be enough—”
“Oh, I am offering you something of much more value than gold. It is far more powerful than any weapon. It can be more beautiful than the lithest of women. I am offering you information.”
Saad was already tired of Kamal’s game. “Enough. Open the trunk and show us this valuable piece of information you have inside.”
Kamal snapped his fingers, and one of his men undid a latch and opened the lid.
The rank smell caused Saad to step back before he had a chance to look inside.
“What is wrong with you?” Mousavi said to Kamal, his eyes locked on the contents.
Removing a handkerchief from his pants pocket, Saad covered his nose and mouth. He stepped toward the box and looked in. A man was crammed inside, folded into a tight fetal position but with his arms thrown akimbo because they wouldn’t fit in the curl.
“Gentlemen, please let me introduce you to Nir Tavor, agent for the Israeli Mossad.”
Saad’s stomach dropped. “What? You fool! You absolute moron. You brought a Mossad agent onto my boat?” He began scanning the waters to see if any warships were already approaching.
Meanwhile, Mousavi had taken hold of Kamal’s thawb and was swearing a blue streak at the man.
Rifles racked in the ranks of Kamal’s men, followed by the IRGC soldiers doing the same.
“Stop!” cried Saad, stepping forward with his arms out. “No more!” He pushed Mousavi and Kamal away from each other. “Tell your men to stand down. Both of you. Now!”
They obeyed, and the soldiers slowly lowered their guns.
Saad kicked the lid to the trunk closed. “Is he alive?”
“Of course he’s alive,” Kamal answered, angrily readjusting his ghutra and igal. “He wouldn’t be much of a source of information otherwise, would he?”
“Please tell me you scanned him for tracking devices.”
“We’re not fools, Saad. We found one, cut it out, and disposed of it before we left Qatar, where we captured him.” The man sounded so proud of this accomplishment.
“Okay, good,” Saad said, mulling his next steps. “Tell your men to take him down to the empty storage hold next to the garage. And get him out of that box. Make sure he’s bound securely and use the seawater hose to rinse him down. I don’t want him stinking up the entire lower deck. Then throw the trunk into the ocean and make sure it sinks.”
Kamal turned toward his men. “You heard him. Be quick.” The four who had brought the trunk came forward and lifted it. Saad’s chief steward stepped from his respectful ten-meter distance to show the men the way to the storage room.
Still angry, Saad said to Kamal, “Now, let’s hear what you have. If you say it is important enough for the general to bring you the Houthis, then it must be incredible. But I swear to you, if it is not, this will be the last time you ever step foot on this boat.”
A smile crossed Kamal’s face again. “Oh, it is special, all right. But first, General, I must insist that you promise me the Houthis.”
“How many times must I tell you? I cannot.”
“Yes you can. And you will—gladly—when I reveal my little secret to you.”
Mousavi stared at the man as if trying to read his face. “Okay. If this information is as spectacular as you say, you will have your army.”
“Splendid,” Kamal said, clapping his hands. “Now for secrets revealed. The Mossad agent, Nir Tavor, came to Doha for an express purpose. He was to communicate to the Saudi crown prince’s chief of staff some very important information—the date and time the Israeli Air Force is planning to fly over Saudi airspace on its way to Iran to decimate your nuclear program in a massive, unparalleled air strike.”
“What?” The general looked stunned.
“See, I told you,” Kamal said with a grin.
Mousavi looked unsteady for a moment as he processed this news. But Saad had already run it through. At the most, Iran was only months from joining the nuclear club. But the rest of the world wasn’t doing anything about it, so Israel believed it was up to them to shut down the program for their own personal survival.
Kamal was right. This would change the Middle East. If Iran was prepared for the attack, they could do great damage to the Israeli Air Force while drawing on the sympathy of the world. Meanwhile, Kamal could launch his attack on the royal family. If he succeeded, Saad would be friends with a king. If he failed, the man would finally be out of his hair forever.
“Well, General?” Kamal asked.
“This is certainly momentous,” Mousavi said. “Yet if the Mossad discovers we have the information, won’t they just change the date?”
“It is a good thing you have a sharp mind like mine on your side, Arash. Yes, you prepare for that date and hope it will not be changed. However, my gift to you is not just the Mossad agent’s information. It is the agent himself. Imagine the international furor your country will create when you show this man to the world as proof of Israel’s evil intentions. This one Jew’s confession can have the same power as all those binders and discs stolen from your vaults.”
Kamal smiled. “In fact, once you have extracted every last bit of information you want from him about the workings of the Mossad in your country, you can try him for espionage and execute him—publicly, if you wish. No one could deny the justice of that. So what do you think now?”
“Habibi,” Mousavi replied with his hand outstretched, “you have yourself an army.”