TWO DAYS LATER
MOSSAD HEADQUARTERS, TEL AVIV, ISRAEL—FEBRUARY 12, 2020—07:30 / 7:30 A.M. IST
Yesh! Boss, I need you right now!”
Nir recognized the excitement and urgency in Liora’s voice, and her enthusiasm stirred him into action. That was not the call of defeat or discouragement; that was the cry of victory. He pushed back from his desk and rushed into the workroom.
The rest of the team had already gathered around Liora and Dafna’s workspaces. They opened up a place in the middle for Nir.
Liora had a big smile on her face. “Hi-oosh, boss. Got something seriously achla!”
Nir hated the cutesy new hi-oosh hello the logistics team had started to use. It was fine if you were a 12-year-old girl, but for people in their twenties it sounded ridiculous.
He refused to acknowledge the greeting. “Go.”
“Grumpy-pants.” Liora turned to her computer. “Okay, as you know, your girl has been feeding us satellite footage from just about everybody who has a piece of photographic space junk orbiting the earth.” Satellite photos cycled on her monitor at about one per second.
Nir was about to protest Liora’s use of the words your girl, but when he saw Nicole standing next to him, she just smiled and rolled her eyes. Nicole’s right. Let it go. We’ve got more important issues. Besides, if she’s good being called ‘my girl,’ I certainly shouldn’t be complaining.
Liora continued. “The bad guys did us a favor by driving those W50 trucks. They’re so old I’m surprised they don’t have horses pulling them.”
Dafna punched a couple of keys on her board, and a photo of an old truck popped up. “As you can see, they’re pretty distinctive in their look. Shallow cab, small hood, very rectangular in shape.”
Liora took back the stage. “This means they give a distinct silhouette from the sky. That’s fashion terminology.” She winked at Nicole. “It means what its shape looks like when viewed—”
“I know the word,” said Nir. “Go on.”
“Wow, you are testy today.” Dafna added a tsk, tsk to her assessment.
“Listen, everybody, we’re at our 90-second attention span limit, and I know someone is about to go off on a ridiculous tangent. So just for today, let’s keep focused. Now, pretty please, go on.”
“Sababa. I’ll keep us on target,” Liora said. “So Daf and I have been looking for these trucks. Here’s the first picture we got of them exiting the hangar at Baghdad Airport. Here they are leaving the airport grounds. Unfortunately, not long after, we lost them south of Baghdad. The thing is, even though these W50s are from the late Triassic Period, a lot of them are still around. Fewer than most other models but enough to lead us on a lot of false leads. Sadly for them, they can run, but they can’t hide. Show him our gift from China, achoti.”
Dafna spoke as she typed. “The lovely Miss le Roux hit us with a feed from one of the Chinese satellites. This camera was amazing. It could show a birthmark on a beetle’s butt.”
“A beetle’s butt wouldn’t have a birthmark.” Everyone turned toward Lahav. “What? A beetle doesn’t have skin like us. It has an exoskeleton made of a substance called chitin. Therefore, it would not be susceptible to birthmarks or other skin-related issues.”
Nir shook his head. “Remember when I mentioned ridiculous tangents?”
“I just thought it was an important clarification.”
“It wasn’t.”
A new photo appeared on one of Dafna’s screens. “By synching this satellite’s orbit with the time line we created for the trucks, we were able to discover this. Take a look.” She picked up a stylus and drew on a pad sitting next to her keyboard. A circle appeared on the picture. “Notice this white mark on the green canvas over the truck bed? It looks like it’s a bleach fade or some sort of chemical stain. We measured it at 48cm long and 33cm at its widest.”
Although the photo was somewhat pixelated, it was still remarkably clear for a satellite shot. “Are you sure it isn’t a picture blemish or lens infraction?”
“We wondered the same thing.” Two more monitors lit up. On each was a wide shot and a picture zoomed in. Dafna circled the same stain on both. “Each is at a different place on the screen yet on the same place on the truck, so it’s not a lens or a processing issue. You can even see that the shape is slightly altered, accounted for by the movement of the canvas as the truck travels.”
“Excellent work.” Nir was proud. “Now we just need to find this stained truck.”
Liora turned and smiled. “Prepare to have your mind blown.” She pulled her hands away from her head and made an explosion sound.
Yossi, who was standing next to Nir, let out a loud “Whoop!” making Nir jump. He was bouncing up and down, totally invested in what was going on. Turning to Nir with a wide grin, he patted him on the back several times before turning back to the screens.
Millennials, thought Nir. Although he had to admit his own excitement was building.
Yossi shouted, “Nu, achla! Show me those pictures!”
Liora laughed and turned back to her monitors. “Once we had that identifying mark, it hugely sped up our process of elimination. We were able to expand our radius much more rapidly. Three hours ago, we spotted this.” A picture of three IFA W50 trucks popped up. They were driving down a road in a single file line. “This was taken January 30 on the southern outskirts of Al Diwaniyah, Iraq.” Zooming in, she said, “Notice the mark?” The picture was much grainier than the Chinese satellite photo, but there was no doubt that the white stain was there.
Again, Dafna took over. “The truck was going southeast down Highway 1. That means one of three destinations. First, Kuwait, then into Saudi Arabia. But there’s no way a terrorist militia can get a three-truck convoy across two borders and into the Kingdom. The second destination is the Persian Gulf.”
“Um Qasr or Al-Faw,” Nir said.
“Exactly. So we deep dived both locations, although I was thinking it would more likely be Al-Faw. But we drew blanks at both.”
“So you turned to Iran?”
“We turned to Iran. And what do you know?” Dafna clicked her mouse, and a photo popped up. “Yossi found this.”
“You bet I did.” Yossi’s looser-than-usual man-bun bounced around with every emphatic word. “My sister from a Gentile mother somehow accessed the CCTV footage for the border crossings at Chazabeh and Shalamcheh. I figured Chazabeh was a little far north. It would have meant that they were trying to fake out some pursuers by going south on Highway 1, then backtracking north. It may be good tradecraft but a little too refined for these militia Neanderthals. So Shalamcheh it was. And, lo and behold, what do I find there? Our trucks.”
Liora clicked her mouse, and a picture of the three-truck convoy appeared.
These guys are so good. Efraim was right about them. “So they’re in Iran. Makes sense. But where to? Has to be a coastal town.”
“Bandar Lengeh was the logical choice,” Nicole said. “It’s right across the Persian Gulf from Abu Dhabi. Regular ferries go from Bandar Lengeh to Dubai. It’s about a half-day trip. Very easy to blend in.”
“And…”
Dafna clicked another picture up on the screen. “BL isn’t just a tiny settlement. It has over 30,000 people and it’s a big trade city, so it’s fairly modernized. Which means traffic cameras—greatest inventions known to man. This view is from a camera as you enter the city.” She clicked a button, and an eight-second series of pictures began looping. “Those are our trucks, confirmed by comparisons to the CCTV border crossing photos. But notice something new.”
Nir watched the loop a couple of times. “Is that a fourth truck?”
“It is,” Nicole said. “Somewhere along the way they picked up a friend.”
“But how do we know it’s not just traffic?”
Dafna clicked again, and eight-second loops appeared on two more monitors. “These were taken from a couple other places in the city widely separated from one other. Each one shows the same four trucks moving past together.”
“That fourth truck isn’t as big as the other two. Wonder why it was separated out from the others.”
“Lahav and I talked about that,” Nicole said. “Either there was some kind of failure of part of whatever was in those first two trucks, or what’s in that last truck is something else entirely.”
“Which goes back to my Dubai theory,” said Lahav.
Ugh, Lahav and his Dubai attack. “Hold off on that a second. Now that we know where the attack is coming from, let’s focus on the when.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Lahav said.
Nir groaned inside. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
“First, let me say that I still think there’s more going on. I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but we’ve got to talk it through. This first attack can be big, but I think the bigger fish is Dubai. Half the people in the world don’t even know where Abu Dhabi is. They think it’s some made-up place in a Disney movie or something.”
“Duly noted. Para para.”
Lahav turned to Nicole. “Para para literally means ‘cow, cow.’ It’s one of our stranger idioms and refers to first things first or one thing at a time. So when Nir wants to hear about Abu Dhabi, and I instead talk about Dubai—”
“Lahav, para para. Let’s deal with Abu Dhabi,” Nicole told him.
Lahav’s face showed pure joy. “Brava, Nicole. You’re really catching on.”
“Achi, nu, Abu Dhabi!” Nir said.
“Right. The attack will be someplace where it hits a lot of international visitors. If a bunch of Emiratis are killed, the West will yawn, say ‘Bless their hearts,’ and move on to the next thing. But if KSS wants to make a statement, they need to take out a bunch of westerners.”
“Yas Island,” Nir said.
“Precisely. And I figure it will need to be soon. The longer they wait, the greater the chance of getting caught. Now, what’s on Yas Island that will draw people in, especially this weekend?”
“Is there a Ferrari event or some kind of Warner premier?” asked Liora.
“Nope,” Nir said. “World Fighting League pay-per-view Light Heavyweight title fight between Vladimir Nuranov and Dennis Robbins. I was hoping to be around to watch it.”
Lahav’s nod was emphatic. “Exactly. Now, you could do it during the fight, but the drone attack would have to bring down the Combat Island arena. Not easy to do. They could carry it out as the crowds exit, which I think makes a lot of sense. However, they could also do it the day before. You’d have the usual crowds, plus 25,000 more there for the fight from all around the world. That would make a statement heard loud and clear. Not as clear as Dubai, but—”
Nir waved him off. “We get Dubai. Keep looking into it. But I think you’ve nailed it. I’ve got to get to Efraim.” He backed away from the group. “After I talk with him, I’m taking the ops team to Abu Dhabi. Nicole, I want you with us.”
A chorus of oohs and kissing sounds erupted from the team. It’s like working with teenagers, Nir thought, shaking his head. But thankfully, they’re really smart teenagers. We just might stop this thing after all.