The sun-toasted, long-legged blond, jogged toward him on the beach, her feet kicking up the white wash zone. Her skin tight swimsuit twisted back and forth struggling to cover her inviting body. He was running to meet her on the warm sand, their arms reaching out to enfold each other. Just as they were about to embrace his hopeful dream was shattered by the ringing of his bedside phone. The clock’s red digits showed five a.m. Who would be calling at this ungodly hour? Angrily He fumbled for the phone.
“Yes! Do you know what time it is?”
A voice full of gravel erased any further hopes of beaches and blonds.
“Get here as soon as possible. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Click! The voice was gone.
Sitting on the edge of the bed he tried rubbing the dream and last night’s single malt scotch out of his head. But when Levi said jump, he jumped.
Levi was a revered and legendary case officer, or katsa, within the Kidon, a highly secretive department of the Israel’s foreign intelligence service. It had a devious name that had little to do with its real mission. Those employed there only referred to it as the Office. In their training her agents were made to promise never to speak of its real name. David’s new katsa had the job of handling the agents or combatants, who carry out covert actions abroad against whoever was considered to be a threat to Israeli. David had only met Levi once, at his graduation from Kidon training in the Negev desert last year, however, the stories of this man’s exploits for Israel filled what little free time there was during that training. He had been the mastermind behind the tracking and killing of Ali Hassan Salameh, known as “The Red Prince”, the man responsible for the Munich Olympic massacre of Israeli athletes in 1972, and even today, 1994, Levi was still motivated by that shedding of young Jewish blood.
David’s feet hit the floor; he groped for the switch on the lamp by the phone before aiming for the shower. Minutes later, awakened by the stinging cold water, he pulled on chinos, slipped a tee shirt over his uncombed black hair, jammed feet into cowboy boots, grabbed his NY Yankee baseball cap and slammed his apartment door.
Taking the elevator down to the underground parking garage, the Israeli ex-paratrooper ran toward his beat-up jeep, climbed in and fired the engine. The roar of AMC-401 under the hood killed the early morning silence and echoed through the cavernous garage. Pushing the remote button the wrought iron gate began its slow retreat across the exit. Jabbing the gas peddle, the jeep chased the echo of its engine up the slope from the garage onto the street in front of his apartment building.
No one else was crazy enough to be up at this time of the morning and he cruised quickly through the familiar streets of Tel Aviv heading toward King Saul Boulevard. The glisten of last night’s rain on deserted streets added to the mystery of the urgency. David flashed around the dog park at He Be’Lyar Circle on two wheels, and headed down Weizmann Street, wishing he could stop and get a cup of his favorite Turkish coffee at the corner café, as he cut a fast right onto King Saul Boulevard. Just past the Israeli Opera House he honked two long and one short. Jacob, in The Office parking kiosk, looked up from the paperback he was reading, recognized the Jeep careening down King Saul toward him and quickly pushed a red button and the concrete crash barriers slid down into the pavement.
David, screeching to a stop, grinned at Jacob, “One of these days I’m going to sneak up and surprise you.”
“Yeah right! I could hear you coming a block away. No way could you sneak up on anyone in that pile of junk. No one’s snuck past me into the Office yet,” Jacob fired back.
David smiled back and rolled into the parking garage. The building under which he parked his Jeep housed the headquarters of the Mossad, officially known as The Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations. However, David and the others who work for this agency call it just - - - The Office.
This semi-secret agency is responsible for intelligence collection and covert operations which are suspected to include targeted killings and paramilitary activities beyond Israel’s borders, and protecting Jewish communities worldwide. It is one of the main entities in the Israeli Intelligence Community, along with Aman (military intelligence) and Shin Bet (internal security), and its director reports directly to the Prime Minister.
After parking close to the elevator door in the mostly deserted garage, he got out and pressed a remote in his pocket that shut off the gas flow to the engine - - - a safety check he had installed since it was virtually impossible to lock a Jeep with canvas side curtains. His pass card slipped quietly through the building’s magnetic slot, the door opened, and he took the stairs three at a time without pausing to the fourth floor. His boot heels clicked as he walked down the deserted corridor knowing that the only others in the building at this time in the morning were probably a few in the communications room in the basement level. He finally stopped in front of an unmarked door of the corner office. The incense-like aroma of Latakia tobacco seeping under the door told David that the person in the office had gotten up even earlier that he had. Standing a little over six feet tall he took a deep breath, turned the bill of his NY Yankee cap around to the front and knocked.
The gravely voice bid him enter and as he shut the door he saw Levi in his typical, often washed but never ironed, campaign shirt, shoulder epaulets unbuttoned, stoking his ever present, yellowed meerschaum pipe. However, there was another person in the room. A slender, black haired, attractive female, in army fatigues, back to David, was staring out the window.
“Took you long enough getting here.”
“Good morning to you too, Levi.”
“I want you to meet Lieutenant Miriam Wagner.”
David was startled. As she turned he remembered her well from training at the Henzelia pistol range, near Tel Aviv. He’d seen her scores. She was an exceptional shot and the image of her, eyes focused and intense, beneath the yellow-lensed glasses, her short hair puffed out comically around the thick ear protectors, flashed into his brain. Then his mind flew to the final proficiency exam with the Galil sniper rifle when she graduated with the best score in his battalion. His ego suffered a hit that day as she replaced him as top shot in their training class. He remembered hearing that she credited her high scores to the times she spent hunting in Africa with her father. They had also been together when sent to a special camp in the Negev where they had learned to kill in a dozen ways. In the midst of the heat and dirt of the desert their competiveness seemed to grow and fester.
She had always been an exciting and frustrating challenge for David.
Moving with graceful economy of the leopards she hunted with her father, she sat on Levi’s battered leather sofa, curling up her long legs under her. Giving David a quick, denying glance, her fine silky eyebrows rose a little and she drew her lips in a tight smile.
“Hello Lieutenant, remember me?”
He stopped, trying not to look at her legs. “How can I forget? How have you been, Miriam?”
“Oh, you remember my name?”
“Sure, none of the guys in my outfit would let me forget it. Where did you learn to shoot so well?”
“Growing up, my father taught me to use an old Syrian AK-47 that he captured during the 6-Day War. It was easy to convert that training to the Galili and Uzi.”
Levi, lifting a match to relight his pipe, looked at the pair sitting before him and noticed their uneasiness.
“Enough of this chit-chat. Let’s get down to business. Since you both know each other I guess I don’t have to introduce you, but just to be formal, Miss. Miriam Wagner, this is Mr. David Bernstein. And, by the way, since you’ll be working under me, no more Sergeant Wagner and Lieutenant Bernstein, is that clear?
In spite of that, I want you to become a new Kidon team for me. Oh, I know most teams have three members, but I think with the assignment I have in mind for you, you should be able to utilize others in the field to fill in for assistance. What I’m mainly interested in is finding a certain Hans Huber.”
“So who is this person, Levi?” asked Miriam quickly, before David could open his mouth.
“Let me back up a bit before I answer that question, Miriam. You may or may not know that over the last few years there have been quite a number of Jews murdered in Europe, all very wealthy, I might add. Until recently these crimes have been investigated simply as single occurrences, but recently investigators in Switzerland have uncovered a possible connection between them. A friend of mine, Inspector Servette, of the Police Department, in Geneva has asked for our help. It seems that there has been a murder of an elderly Jewish couple living in Switzerland. The evidence from that crime seems to connect with other murders in Germany and Switzerland. However most of these crimes have grown cold and Servette, in a conversation asked if we could possibly investigate. Since this would be your first assignment as Kidon, I have decided to give the case to you.”
“What’s the evidence that seems to connect these murders Levi?” David responded.
“All I know is that whoever has committed these murders seems to leave a calling card behind.”
“His calling card!”
“Yes, it seems that after he kills his victims he carves a lightning-like slash on arms or legs.”
Miriam turned to Levi, “sound like a real sick bastard.”
Levi continued, “I want you to go down to the Data Center in the basement and see if Malcolm can give you any more background on this case. But be careful, I woke him even before I woke you this morning and he has been working on this case already. He’s pretty grumpy about my calling him in this early. David, standing, shook his head, “well, I can understand that,” he said and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Levi said. “Remember the Data Center has a man trap to enter. You’ll need both your magnetic pass key to this building as well as your right index finger-print to get into that room. Come back to see me later when you and Malcolm have combed the archives for information about your target and then we’ll develop a plan of action.
Miriam got up and looked at the beard on the other side of the desk encased in pipe smoke, as David left.
“Who’s in charge on this little assignment, Levi?”
“I guess you’ll have to figure that out as you go along.” Levi said with a laugh.
“Where’s the data center?” Miriam almost shouted at the back of David as he hurried down the corridor.
“In the basement,” he said, not even looking over his shoulder passing the elevator.
“Where are you going?”
“To the stairs. I don’t like elevators.”
Miriam stopped, bushed the down button and waited as David disappeared through a door at the end of the hallway. That man’s impossible, and I now have to work with him! Well, we’ll see about that!
The elevator door opened. She got in and turned to face to door, hands opening and closing in exasperation.
When the elevator stopped she shook her head to shake off her emotions. I can’t let that man’s over-active testosterone frustrate this assignment.
David was not to be seen. She slid her magnetic pass card through the slot beside the door Research Department, in Hebrew and entered a compartment about the size of the closet of her bedroom. There was David standing in front of another heavy windowless door.
“About time,” he muttered and pressed his thumb against a small glass panel beside the door. As the door opened he said, “Wait, you’ll have to do it too, they only allow one at a time.”
The door closed and angrily Miriam jammed her thumb against the glass and waited as the door opened for her. Walking into a large sound-proof room filled with computers humming, reels spinning and David already talking to a tall, thin, bearded man looking like some anarchist from an urban kibbutz.
David waved Miriam over. “Malcolm, this is Miriam Wagner, she’ll be working with me, according to Levi.”
She shifted uneasily, not sure whether to respond or not, but felt everything go silent inside her.
“Well, welcome to our Data Center, Miriam, better know as The Mine.
Miriam spoke up, “I heard about your Mine during training, but never had a chance to visit. “Tell me about this room.”
Malcolm saw she was impeccable, impressive and likable and decided to foster the uneasiness that seemed to exist between the two agents.
“Miriam, our main source of wisdom down here is our AN/FSQ-7 main-frame computer we lovingly call Solomon, after the King in the Midrash who…”
David interrupted, “Yes, yes, the king who decided which mother a child belonged to. Let’s get to what you’ve found about this possible killer.”
Malcolm turned back to Miriam starting to speak again, as David moved over and sat disgustedly on the corner of a desk.
“All of these two rows of racks are, in essence, the servers for Solomon. I won’t go into detail about them right now and bother your friend any more than necessary. Needless to say we keep the physical environment of this room rigorously controlled at about 20°C and the humidity range between 40-55% with a maximum dew point of 15°C.”
Miriam smiled at the bearded cyber tech and looked at David who was drumming his fingers on the desk surface.
“Guess we’d better get to what you have for us before my partner has a kitten.”
Malcolm asked them to join him in the corner office.
Before David came into the office Malcolm said quietly to Miriam, “From the rumors I’ve heard you’ll be more than a match for your friend there.”
“So what have you got,” David said, letting out an exasperated sigh.
“I’m not entirely sure, but if he is the one Interpol has helped us identify, you are in for quite a search. Mind you we have no photographic proof, no fingerprints, no eye witnesses, not even any really hard evidence - - - just a possibility that we are still working on. We are in the process of drawing together what we can from our own files, as well as what Interpol dig up for us. It is really just conjecture at this point.
“You need to understand more than just this current Hans, if he’s the one you’re going after. We need to go back into his past somewhat to see where his motivation comes from. If we’ve got the right person his family name is Huber. This is what we have been able to piece together, mostly from Interpol sources and our own record of the Eichmann capture in Argentina.
“His father was killed in 1960 when we captured Eichmann in Buenos Aries. Evidently Hans was fourteen at that time. That would make him forty-eight today. It’s possible the current killer is this same Hans or a copycat using Hans’s father’s style. If the former is true we figure the son may be killing to avenge the death of the father. That may be a stretch, but we know he was outraged when his father was killed and vowed to get even. Why he’s waited so long is anyone’s guess. If this killer that has been killing Jews, mainly in Europe, is the deceased old man Huber’s son Hans, we need a clearer understanding of how and why he operates so we can bring him in. That’s what you need to do. Find out everything you can about this killer’s technique and style. We’re still trying to mine The Mine, as we say, to fill in any more details we can for you.
“From what we already know I suspect the connecting point for all this conjecture is within the Huber family itself. Interpol told us that during the Second World War, senior Huber always killed with his SS dagger and then cut slash marks on his victim’s arms or legs. The report said those slash marks symbolized the lightning-like runes worn on SS Nazi uniforms, thought by some to be phallic symbols. Huber senior was a member of the Waffen SS during the Second World War. Interpol’s records show he had quite a sadistic reputation in Nazi Germany. The recent Swiss victims, and others, had somewhat similar cuts on their bodies, that’s why this may be either senior Huber’s son or a copycat, maybe from one of those pro-Nazi groups in Germany. If it’s the son, maybe you can find him fairly quickly, but if the killer is part of one of those radical groups, it may be more difficult. However, and this is very important, you must keep Levi informed before you take any action. An official sanction has not been given, for whoever the killer is, as yet by the Prime Minister, so work closely with local authorities when in their jurisdiction, and then get back to Levi for confirmation. I, like Levi think you should start your search in Switzerland, where the most recent killings occurred. Levi is a good friend with an Inspector Servette in Geneva, who has taken a personal interest in this case, and has asked Levi for assistance.”
The phone rang and Malcolm picked it up. “Yes sir, I’ve given them all the information we have at the moment, Okay, I’ll send them back up.”
Miriam shook Malcolm’s hand. “Thank you for your help. Let us know if you get anything else that might be useful to us. We’ll both be using encrypted cell phones. I’ll give you our numbers before we leave.”
“Nice to meet you Miriam,” Malcolm said as he held her hand a bit longer than necessary.
“And by the way, you’ve got a great partner here to work with.” He winked at her.
David rose and started for the door. “We’ll see, we’ll see,” And left without waiting for Miriam.
When they exited the elevator back on the fourth floor, David told her to go on to Levi’s office. He had to use the men’s room.
Miriam walked through the opened door and leaned on Levi’s desk. “What’s with his fear of elevators?”
Levi looked up at her and laughed, “Oh that, it seems that as a child he was alone in an elevator when it malfunctioned and he was trapped in it for some time. Ever since that experience he never gets into an elevator, unless it is absolutely necessary.”
She was still leaning over Levi’s desk when David came in and sat down.
He looked at Miriam’s rear, whistled and said, “Nice ass.”
She spun around, her eyes sparking and replied, “You’re right, but that’s all you’ll ever see of it,” and walked over to stand by the window.
Levi smiled, looked at the ceiling. “Now, now, you two better get along because you’ll be working together for a while. I’ll have your flight tickets ready when you come back tomorrow. Finish your report on the information Malcolm dug up for you and fax it to me. Your flight leaves Thursday evening. Leave your weapons of choice needs with Technical and they will send them to you at Inspector Servette’s office via Federal Express.
“By the way, welcome aboard.” Levi rose from his chair signifying the meeting was over.
David and Miriam looked at each and both said, “Yes, sir,” simultaneously.
“Good work, you two,” Levi said the next day when he met with David and Miriam again.
“Thanks for getting this report from Research to me before you leave. I had time to go over it and it looks like we now have what we need to begin to search for this killer in Europe. I don’t know how you did it, but this computer-aged photo will scare the crap out of our man, if he’s the one. How did you get it?”
“Malcolm found an old photo of Hans Huber’s son that was taken during the Eichmann capture in the 60’s, and with help of a computer whiz downstairs age-enhanced it, viola - - - there it is. It’s not perfect, but should greatly help us with our search”
“I just hope the newspapers don’t get hold of it and print it to scare our man off. It will be a great help. Now go home and pack your bags because you’re flying to Geneva tomorrow.”
Levi handed David two El AL packets of tickets.
“There should be enough Swiss francs there also in there, that is unless you really think you’re on a vacation. The flight leaves at 3:05 p.m. Let’s us see how this works out for all of us.”
David looked at Levi and said, “I hate to seem dumb, but how are we supposed to find one person in a city as big as Geneva”?
“You’re not dumb at all and I’m glad you asked. One, you’ve got that photo and two, you should check in right away with Inspector Servette of the Geneva Police. Piet and I are old fiends. I have already told him that you are on your way and he will give you all the assistance you need.” And with a sly smile, Levi said, “Oh, by the way, you have flight and hotel reservations under the name of Mr. and Mrs. David Cohen, on a pleasant vacation in the Capital of Peace. That should be your starting point. Check in with Servette as soon as you can and it would be a good idea to keep me informed also,” Levi said as he ushered the duo toward the door.
In the parking garage, just before they turned to their own cars Miriam said, “Bossy and precise, isn’t he?”
David looked at Miriam and said, “We lucked out, Miriam. He leaves us our freedom to get the job done. Want to go to dinner tonight?” He said over his shoulder as he walked towards his Jeep.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” She responded, “I have fourteen suitcases to pack before we fly to Switzerland, in less than twenty-four hours.”
“Yeah, right! And who is going to carry all those bags for you”?
“Aren’t you, my dear”?
“See you at the airport, Miriam,” David said as he unlocked the door to the Jeep.