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Mataró, Spain
Cairo Elizabeth Corbyn took a deep breath and shifted a brown paper bag filled with fresh fruit and vegetables from one arm to the other as she turned off the road and started up the long, winding driveway. The sun was losing the battle with time as the afternoon passed into evening, and she looked up at the cloudless blue sky, squinting through her sunglasses. Soon the color would deepen into cerulean as the evening took hold, ushering in the night. It was her favorite part of the day. When the shadows lengthened and nature settled down to sleep, that was when she came alive. Those were the shadows she lived and breathed in.
She lowered her gaze from the sky and continued along the gray stone pavement towards the house. After an afternoon spent beside her pool engaging in some much needed relaxation, Kai had walked into town for a few groceries from the market, enjoying the peace and solitude that she could only find here, on the edge of the Balearic Sea. It was her secret place, her one true home. While she had apartments and condos dotted all over the globe, this was the only property she actually owned. She’d gone through a lot of trouble to ensure that no part of the transaction could ever be traced back to her and, as a result, this was the one place on the planet where she was truly invisible. No one knew it existed.
A salty gust of wind blew through the plane trees on her left, carrying the scent of the sea mixed with blossoms from the old cherry trees that grew on the edge of her property. Breathing deeply, Kai felt the familiar rush of contentment that always accompanied the hazy memories the smell brought forth. She had grown up on the southern shores of Spain in Andalusia, and the scent held a prominent place in her memories of that happy time. When she had been looking for a property to purchase two years ago, she had looked at the house in April while the cherry trees were in blossom. One whiff was all it took, and she had purchased the villa two days later. The real estate agent had tried to talk her into a beach front property, but Kai preferred the solitude provided by the copious amount of plane and palm trees surrounding the house. And, as always, Kai got exactly what she wanted.
Now, walking along the narrow drive towards the sprawling, two-level villa still hidden from view, she was conscious of a feeling of gratefulness. Without this refuge, Kai knew that she would very quickly become someone she loathed. Her work was too precise to allow for anything but darkness. Without these trips to the sun, she would become one with the shadows where she lived, and then they would consume her. It had almost happened once, after the sudden death of her mother, and it was that that had prompted her to buy this piece of sun-drenched heaven. She would never forget the glimpse into the abyss, or her absolute apathy to the horrors contained there. In that instant, Kai knew she needed something to keep her from slipping into the darkness. Something to remind her of the life that was possible.
The driveway curved to the left suddenly and the house came into view beyond the trunk of a massive, old Tasmanian blue gum tree that had been planted generations before. Her brows drew together sharply and she frowned, staring at the unfamiliar black rental sedan parked on the curve in front of the house. It was shiny and spotless, an American model that the airport in Barcelona favored.
Her right hand moved instinctively closer to her hip, where she could easily reach for the Jericho 941 nestled in a holster at her back beneath a flowing, sleeveless tunic. Her eyes narrowed and moved from the vehicle to the long, covered veranda that extended the length of the house. A tall man was sitting on a rattan chair near the front door, sunglasses covering his eyes. He was dressed in cream linen pants and a pale gray shirt, the light colors complementing his deeply tanned skin and dark hair. As she emerged from the trees, he turned his head to watch her come towards the house, no expression on his face.
Kai’s shoulders relaxed and she continued to the house without changing her long and even stride. The man was even wearing leather sandals, a detail that made her lips curve very faintly in amusement. He looked every inch the relaxed businessman on vacation - something that she knew he was not.
“If I’d known you were coming, I would have bought you Monopolowa,” Kai said, approaching the porch.
The man reached down beside the chair and picked up a bottle of the J.A. Baczewski vodka, holding it up.
“I brought it with me,” he said, standing. He reached up to take off his sunglasses, his dark brown eyes creasing at the edges as he smiled. “You’re a difficult woman to find, Kai.”
“Not difficult enough, apparently,” she replied, stepping up onto the porch. “Hello Jared.”
Jared Levine held out his hand and she grasped it firmly, smiling up at him.
“Let me take that for you,” he offered, releasing her hand and motioning to the bag of groceries.
“That’s quite all right. It’s not heavy.” She turned towards the front door. “Come through to the back. We can sit on the patio. Have you eaten?”
“I had something on the plane.” He followed her through the door and into the bright, airy house, glancing around appreciatively. “I came straight from the airport. It’s quite a nice drive along the coast.”
Kai glanced back at him in amusement.
“That’s high praise coming from you,” she said, leading him through the living room and into a large, square kitchen with a stone-tile floor and huge windows overlooking a slope going towards the cherry trees. She set the bag down on a granite-topped island and began pulling out the vegetables and fruit. “I enjoy that you brought your potato vodka with you.”
Jared chuckled and set the bottle in question down on the island.
“Consider it a sign of goodwill, and a peace offering.”
She cast him a sideways look under her lashes. “For?”
“Intruding on your privacy,” he said, folding his sunglasses and sliding them into the pocket on his shirt. “It wasn’t done lightly, I promise you.”
She was silent as she finished emptying the bag, placing the mangoes and oranges in a wire bowl on the island. She turned to move the vegetables into the refrigerator and, when she was finished, she turned to look at him. Reaching up, she removed her sunglasses, her green eyes meeting his. After considering him for a long moment, she sighed.
“I know it wasn’t,” she said softly.
She went over to a glass-fronted cabinet on the other side of the kitchen where a selection of bar ware and cocktail glasses were stored. The head of her section was known for doing many things, but prying into the privacy of his agents was not one of them. If Jared had found it necessary to not only hunt down her private residence in Spain, but also to come here unannounced, there was a good reason. Opening the cabinet, she pulled out two rocks glasses.
“I have ice for the first glass, but we can put the bottle in the freezer to chill it,” she said, turning. “I don’t mind vodka on the rocks, but I know you tend to be a bit snobbish about that.”
“Nothing snobbish about it,” he replied with a grin. “I prefer my alcohol not watered down.”
Kai laughed. “Fair enough. Why don’t you go onto the patio and I’ll be right out? It’s through the door in the living room.”
She watched as he left the kitchen, then carried the glasses over to the counter next to the refrigerator. Holding one of the glasses under the dispenser in the door, she pressed a button and ice cubes clattered into the glass. The ready smile on her face faded as her lips tightened. He was here to call her back. It was the only reason Jared would come all the way to Mataró without warning. He needed her for an op. And if he’d come all the way here unannounced, it was a big one, which meant other team members. She hated working with others.
She turned and opened the bottle of vodka, pouring it into the glasses. She would have to listen to what he had to say; it wasn’t as if she had much choice. It was her job, and she did it very well, but in the end he was still her boss. While there were times when she could refuse, and did, it was very rare. And lately, it hadn’t happened at all. Jared had grown to respect her skills and used her for jobs no one else could do. Even within their elite section, she had managed to rise above the rest. Two years ago, the last remnant of restraint had fallen away and that darkness that she had grown to know so well had propelled her into a new level of efficiency. One unfettered by the bonds of conscience.
Kai opened the freezer and put the vodka inside the door. She had learned since then how to separate work from her life, somehow managing to retain that elusive conscience in all other aspects of her life. But in the Kidon, their section of the Caesarea branch of Mossad, her aggressiveness and precision had become legendary over the past two years. Even in the elite family of Mossad assassins, she had become one of the most dangerous.
And one of the most sought.
Picking up the glasses, she turned to carry them through the kitchen and living room to the open doors on the stone patio. Jared had seated himself on a chaise lounge by the in-ground pool, his feet crossed at the ankles. When she came out, he looked over and smiled.
“I can see why you chose this house,” he said as she walked over to hand him one of the glasses. “Of all the countries and all the cities, I wondered why you chose Spain. Now I understand.”
Kai smiled and took the chaise lounge next to him, swinging her long tanned legs up and looking over the pool to the manicured lawn sloping down to the cherry trees. They were in full bloom and the perfume wafted through the evening air. Through the trees, the Balearic Sea glistened in the distance, the blue waves sparkling in the fading sun.
“How did you find me?” she asked after a long, companionable silence.
“It wasn’t easy,” he said, glancing at her. “It took me over a year. You covered your tracks well.”
“Not well enough.”
He shrugged and sipped his drink. “I find people. It’s what we do. If I wasn’t good at it, I wouldn’t be in the position that I’m in.”
“True,” she admitted. “I wish you hadn’t looked, though.”
“I know.” He was quiet for a moment. “Is this your inheritance?”
“Part of it,” she said. “I’ve invested the rest.”
“Smart woman.”
“Perhaps.” She sipped her vodka and leaned her head back on the cushion. “I doubt I’ll live long enough to see a return.”
Jared sent her a hooded glance, then shrugged. “What will be, will be,” he said. “At least you plan for a future. Most don’t. They spend each day as if it’s their last.”
“You sound as if you disapprove. Why? You know that our life expectancy isn’t very, shall we say, optimistic?”
“It’s not the choice to live that I disapprove of,” he said slowly, “but the recklessness that accompanies it.”
“Ah. Now that I can understand.” Kai nodded, turning her gaze back to the view. “Speaking as one who engages in reckless behavior regularly, it’s not ideal.”
He choked back a laugh. “You’re reckless, yes, but not with your private life. You’re reckless where you need to be. There is a difference.”
“Is there?” She shot him a thoughtful look. “I’m not so sure of that.”
“You took the care to build a safe house, hidden from everyone, where you clearly recharge. You take care of yourself. That is the difference.” He looked at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so relaxed.”
“I spent the day here, next to the pool,” she told him with a laugh. “It would be very strange if I wasn’t relaxed.” She sipped her drink and exhaled, sobering. “Why don’t you tell me what brought you to Spain?” she said finally, looking at him. “I know it wasn’t to drink vodka next to my pool.”
Jared met her gaze steadily.
“We found him. We found Masha’al Al-Amin.”
Tel Aviv, Israel
A tall man stood at the low wall and stared out at the Mediterranean Sea. He had a glass of rumman in his hand, which he raised to his lips as he contemplated the stunning beauty of the sun setting over the water. The condo was on one of the upper floors of a beachfront high-rise, over-looking an expanse of white sandy beach below. He had paid well for just this view, yet as he stared over the water, he didn’t see it. His mind was too preoccupied with the issues that unexpectedly disrupted his day, issues that would need to be dealt with immediately.
The door behind him slid open and he didn’t turn from the view as someone stepped out onto the wide balcony. He didn’t need to look. He knew who it was. He’d been expecting him.
“You’re late,” he said in Arabic before lifting his drink to his lips again.
“I was delayed in the West Bank,” the newcomer replied. “It was unavoidable.”
The man did turn his head at that. “Nothing serious?”
“No. Nothing more than a standard inspection.”
The man nodded and turned his attention back to the sinking sun in the distance.
“Good. I’ve had enough difficulties for one day.” He sipped his drink again, then turned reluctantly from the low wall that lined the balcony. “Have a seat and tell me what you’ve learned.”
He watched as the newcomer sat down in a chair adjacent to a long, beechwood table. He was dressed casually in white pants and a pale blue tunic, his dark beard and hair a stark contrast to the pale colors. Rafiq Hamoud looked every inch a respectable businessman, but the man knew differently. He knew that Rafiq was one of the most cunning men in the Mediterranean, which was precisely why he had hired him a year before. In that year, he had proved himself invaluable.
“The property in Bucharest was equipped with closed-circuit feed security, just as you said,” Rafiq said, crossing his legs and sitting back comfortably in the chair. “Unfortunately, it was completely useless. The assassin disabled all the cameras on the system. There isn’t one image of him, or even an eyewitness description. Everyone who presumably saw the killer is dead.”
The man frowned. “If it was a closed system, then how did he manage to disable all the cameras?”
Rafiq shrugged. “He found a way in. The head of Melnik’s security team believes they exploited a compromised circuit, but he was unable to locate it.”
“So it could have been done from the inside,” the man said slowly. “There could be a traitor in the ranks.”
“Yes.” Rafiq nodded. “That is a possibility, but I don’t think it’s likely.”
“Oh?”
“I think I have a lead.”
The man raised his eyebrows and moved to the chair opposite Rafiq, seating himself and setting his drink on the table. He crossed his legs and fixed the other man with a steady gaze.
“You have a lead on the assassin?”
“Not yet. But I think I know who hired him.” Rafiq reached into his pocket and pulled out a smart phone. “Vali Melnik ruled his world with an iron fist. None of his men would dare to cross him, much less betray him. Working with that in mind, I’ve been trying to link everyone he’s done business with in the past two years. Did you know Melnik had entered into a business arrangement with the Eisenrennen?”
The man’s lips tightened ever so slightly, the only reaction he allowed himself.
“No,” he said shortly. “I did not.”
“I didn’t think so. I don’t know that anyone outside of his leadership was aware of it.” Rafiq swiped the screen on his phone and pulled up a photo. Placing the phone on the table, he turned it around and slid it towards the man. “This was taken two months ago in Prague at a meeting that no one in Melnik’s inner circle was aware had even taken place.”
The man lowered his eyes to the phone, studying the photo. There was no mistaking Melnik, but the other man was a stranger to him.
“Who is he with?”
“That’s Joseph Reinhardt. He’s an Austrian banker who specializes in stocks. It’s also rumored that he’s one of the four silent partners that finance Eisenrennen.”
The man was silent for a long moment, then he pushed the phone back to Rafiq. “Go on.”
“Eisenrennen is an underground movement that has its roots in the defeated Nazi leaders who fled Berlin in the final days of the war.”
The man made an impatient movement with his hand. “Yes, yes. They vowed to continue the Nazi party in secret and eventually see the party’s goals accomplished. Yet, after seventy-five years, they are no closer to it now than they were then.”
“Perhaps not, but with every year their power and influence has grown.” Rafiq shrugged. “They have grown powerful enough to count several government leaders amongst their allies. More importantly, as they have gained ground over the years, they have been ruthlessly pursued by the only organization whose sole purpose has always been to hunt down and eradicate enemies of the Jews.”
The man grew very still, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the face across from him.
“The Kidon. Mossad,” he stated in a low voice.
“Yes.” Rafiq pocketed his phone. “That photo was taken by a Mossad agent. Obviously they were watching Reinhardt, and after that meeting, Melnik as well.”
The man was silent for a long time, his brows knit together thoughtfully while his long fingers drummed on the table.
“There can be no doubt about this?” he asked suddenly, shooting Rafiq a sharp look.
“I don’t believe so. After that photo was taken, I’m told that Melnik was put under surveillance by Mossad. You and I both know that if the Israelis thought for one minute that he was financing Eisenrennen, they would consider him an enemy of the Jews.”
“Combined with the rest of his activities, it would have advanced him to the top of their most wanted list,” the man said. He got up suddenly and went to the wall again to stare out over the water. “You think they sent the assassin to Bucharest.”
“Yes.”
The man sighed heavily. “You make a very compelling case,” he said over his shoulder. “I wish it weren’t so, but I believe that you’re right.”
Rafiq inclined his head and was silent. The sudden involvement of the Israeli Special Forces put a whole new spin on the death of the man’s associate in Romania. Knowing that, he remained silent, allowing the man time to consider his options.
After staring over the water for several minutes in silence, the man finally turned to look at him.
“If Mossad is involved, there is only one course of action available to us,” he said slowly. “I must find the assassin and avenge Vali Melnik’s death. Once I have done so, I will be in a position to take his place and combine our armies. But if the assassin is Mossad, there is only one way to get to him.”
Rafiq raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully.
The man nodded.
“Contact Reilly. It’s time for him to earn his money.”
