Into The Shadows Page 5

  The violin drew Alexis at a young age. The daughter of a former violinist with the Berlin Philharmoniker Orchestra, Alexis was a top student within the Orchestra Academy. The students enrolled in the program were some of the brightest young musicians recruited from throughout Europe. Anna and Paul’s unwavering support over the years allowed Alexis to thrive. Paul could not be prouder of her.

  Near the front desk of the Inter-Continental, the valet greeted him.

  “Are you ready for your vehicle, sir?”

  Paul handed him the ticket and a few minutes later his car appeared at the circular entrance of the upscale hotel. Paul then drove away in his Mercedes E350 sedan, a nice reward for CIA’s top spy in Germany.

  As soon as Paul sped off, he called his friend and colleague of nearly twenty-five years. Throughout their careers, the two men’s paths crossed together in places such as Germany, Spain, and South Africa. Both men graduated from the CIA’s national clandestine service (NCS) program in Virginia in 1991.

  Paul graduated as an official cover operative, meaning he served CIA overseas in an official cover status. His first assignment took him to Berlin where he served as a trade representative for the Department of State. His real occupation was that of a junior case officer who would develop assets throughout Europe. His timing could not have been better since the Berlin Wall came down in 1989. A couple of years later the Soviet Union had collapsed.

  The collapse of the Soviet Union meant turmoil for much of the decade that followed. Former KGB spies, businesspersons, politicians, and all sorts of individuals were settling into Western Europe. Asset development was ripe.

  Michael’s path took a different turn. Michael earned his non-official cover status since he scored the highest of his trainee class in nearly every category including creativity, close quarter combat, physical fitness and resistance to enhanced interrogation training, among many others.

  “Michael, it’s Paul. I’m heading to the office now.”

  “Paul, I’m in Turkey. I’m trying to recover a Mossad asset inside Syria. He apparently has information of a biological attack planned for the United States. Islamic State is behind it.”

  Paul’s mind raced quickly. Though his efforts now focused on an emerging Russian threat, he was well aware of the developments in Iraq and Syria. Everyone in the world was aware of the terror group.

  “How good is the source?”

  “Mossad has run the source for quite some time. The source is reliable from what I can tell. We are working with them on this one.”

  “How can I help?” asked Paul.

  “Well, an agent I’m working with here says she needs a dozen AT-4s as part of the extraction plan.”

  “You trust her?”

  “I have to, Paul. No choice. But she is Mossad and assures me she needs them to support the operation.”

  “That’s a lot of firepower. Where are they going?”

  “If I had to guess, probably to one of the Kurdish groups fighting inside Syria.”

  “I’ll need more than that, Mike.”

  “I know. Can you get them to me within forty-eight hours provided the operation is ready, and I deliver specifics?”

  “Got to know where the weapons are going.”

  “You got it. Can I call tomorrow morning?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be in early, say eight?”

  “Thanks, Paul. I will call you then.”

  Paul arrived at his office an hour later. Berlin traffic was horrific, and commonplace in many highly populated European cities. Two calls were in order. First, Paul would contact a colleague in Freiberg, Germany.

  “Markus, it’s Paul. I may need to move some equipment in the morning. Can you and your team be ready? Transportation will be to Euro Airport and we’ll be using our usual aircraft. I will send the hangar information tomorrow around noon.”

  The Euro Airport Basel-Mulhouse-Freiberg, constructed soon after World War 2, was the ideal location. An international airport, serving the flourishing Alsace, North West Switzerland and Bade-Wurttemberg regions, it was prime real estate for moving cargo and passengers into and outside of Europe.

  “What are we moving Paul?” asked the silver-haired veteran.

  “A dozen AT-4s.”

  “Still plenty of those here, Paul.”

  “Thought so, thanks, Markus.”

  Paul soon hung up after exchanging pleasantries. The two veterans knew each other well, and despite Michael’s urgency, Paul spent a few minutes talking to Markus about his family and plans for retirement.

  Paul’s next order of business was to call Jurgen, another colleague south of Freiberg in the beautiful town of Rickenbach, along the Swiss border.

  “Jurgen, it’s Paul.”

  “Hello Paul, how are you this evening?”

  “Have to be short here, Jurgen. I need some cargo moved tomorrow evening, give or take a few hours. Can you have the aircraft fully fueled and ready? I hope to have more details in the morning so you can file your flight plan.”

  “Uh, sure. Duration of the flight, Paul?”

  “Not sure, but the destination is likely in or near Turkey. It is fluid right now.”

  “I could fly the cargo directly to Larnaca on Cyprus. Might that work?”

  “Too early to tell my friend. Could you refuel there and get into Turkey if needed?”

  “Probably. It won’t be easy, but I could make it happen.”

  “Let’s just get the jet fueled and ready. I will be in touch sometime in the morning. Please be ready by noon.”

  Click. Paul ended the conversation. Jurgen always appreciated Paul’s brevity. Jurgen profited handsomely from his relationship with Paul for nearly five years. While averaging two to three flights monthly, Jurgen’s lucrative role as the pilot earned him a high standard of living. The occasional stop at remote parts of the world delivering cargo to nefarious individuals never really bothered him. The risk was always part of the business.

  In the course of approximately fifteen minutes, Paul alerted his colleagues for a contingency that might never happen. Jurgen and Markus were informally aware of each other though neither man knew each other’s specific role in Paul’s operations. The less they knew, the less likely they were to jeopardize Paul’s plans. CIA had actually implemented this policy from its inception after President Harry Truman signed the National Security Act of 1947.

  Michael’s request was clearly urgent and Paul learned a long time ago that operational parameters change instantly. Flexibility and decisiveness are required in the human intelligence (HUMINT) collection business. Paul’s anticipation and preparation would pay off.

  Paul glanced at his watch and observed it was approaching eight o’clock. Time to get home, he thought to himself. His date with Alexis was still on, and he would not let her down.

  Iskenderun, Turkey – November 4, 9:20 PM

  Shortly after leaving Michael, Elif instructed her two associates to go home. She would call them in the morning with instructions. However, before departing, Elif told them to pack and prepare to move the following day. They would be heading to the border in a day or two.

  After Elif had entered her car, she called Raif.

  “Raif, this is Elif. I need to speak with you this evening.”

  “Okay, what is this about” asked Raif perplexed.

  “Our conversation last night. I have an update, and it’s urgent.”

  “Shall I meet you at Eroglu?”

  “No. I need to see you at your place. Will you be there in fifteen minutes?”

  “Yes, Elif. I am here now. See you then.”

  Elif arrived ten minutes later. She already knew where he lived. Shortly after meeting him, standard protocol meant she had to do a thorough background check on her new asset. Though a petty criminal engaged in smuggling, his contacts in Syria made him in
valuable. Until now, Elif never had a reason to visit his apartment though her associates routinely scoped the area to keep an eye on him.

  Raif’s apartment was bland. A drab brownish color covered his walls. Scarce decorative pictures hung on the walls, and Elif spotted few ornaments in the living room. The musty air in the apartment further reminded Elif that Raif did not spend much time here. This was odd she thought to herself.

  Elif expected the apartment to be a bit more upscale. By all accounts, Raif was a successful smuggler satisfying eager buyers along the Syrian border. Several trips each month to the town of Nizip, in the Gaziantep province, should have afforded Raif a few luxuries. She began to wonder if he even lived there.

  Her suspicions now aroused, she asked for some bottled water. Raif gladly obliged and moved toward the small refrigerator in the kitchen. He opened the door, and Elif noticed the near-empty refrigerator. Carefully questioning her asset, she asked why there was no food.

  “I just returned from a trip, Elif.”

  Looking into the refrigerator, he sarcastically asked her if she wanted to go to the market with him. Somewhat satisfied, but more focused on discussing the operation, she laughed and said, “Let’s just get to it.”

  The two sat down, and she told Raif the weapons would be available in a couple of days. She would personally deliver them near Nizip at a place of his choosing. From there, she and her associates would accompany him to the delivery.

  “We have to be sure the weapons are going to the YPG,” said Elif convincingly.

  “That was fast. How did National Intelligence make such a quick decision?”

  “I told them it was in our best interest for YPG to get more firepower.”

  “It is, but I expected it would take a few weeks.”

  “Frankly, me too Raif. However, the Islamic State is all over the headlines, and you see the refugees entering Turkey. Their migration across the border needs to end. The government is concerned we cannot handle many more of them.”

  “Why can’t you just deliver them to me here? I can transport the weapons myself. A larger group may alert local police.”

  “Like I said, we have to be sure. It is my responsibility to get them to the border. I will also have a colleague from MIT.”

  Slightly frustrated, Raif agreed to meet her in Nizip.

  “When will you depart for Nizip?” asked Raif.

  “I’m not sure but let’s be ready for the sixth, after dinner. I will call you when we are ready to go. Why don’t you plan to get there tomorrow and settle in? Is there something you can do there to pass the time?”

  “Yes. I’ll find a place to stay.”

  Elif’s next order of business was to tell Raif there would be another passenger that night. Puzzled by the request, he asked who it was.

  Elif told him that he was the son of an influential member of Parliament who was working as a physician in Kobani with a private organization.

  “Apparently, the doctor is stuck in the Islamic State held portion of the city. He has been sporadically communicating with his father through email. He believes Islamic State will soon find out his identity. He wants out and thinks he can cross the border more easily near Jarabulus.”

  An attempt to flee Kobani would surely result in a sniper’s bullet from an Islamic State fighter perched atop one of the buildings. Raif thought the idea sounded reasonable.

  “I’ve used the area before, the Turkish town of Karkamis sits right on the border. I could make that happen,” said Raif confidently.

  “Where will the AT-4s be delivered, Raif?”

  “Near Jarabulus, actually, along the Euphrates. How will this doctor get across the border?” asked Raif.

  “We’re getting him out, Raif. You will drive us near the extraction point and wait for our return. You will not be crossing the border with us. It’s too risky for you.”

  “We’ll only need an hour or so. In addition, we will do it before delivering the weapons. Can I count on you, Raif?” asked Elif.

  “Of course, Elif.”

  Elif had quickly developed a plan, though it still needing substantial preparation and refinement. The Mossad spy told Raif she would call tomorrow afternoon.

  As Elif drove off, she could not help to think yet again how the apartment seemed out of place for Raif. Something did not feel right, she thought to herself.

  Nevertheless, she needed to get home and update Tel Aviv as soon as possible. A good night’s rest was also in order before returning to the safe house where Michael slept.

  Erzin, Turkey – November 4, 10:45 PM

  Passing the halfway point of his journey to Iskenderun, Kadir’s cell phone chimed. The information he waited for had finally arrived. The message simply included an address where the Israeli spy was located. Dabria came through.

  He turned to his passenger and handed her the phone.

  “Confirm and pull it up please, Yaffa,” said Kadir.

  Confirmed. K, typed Yaffa.

  She then entered the street address into her Apple MacBook Air laptop using the Google Earth feature. Who needs billion-dollar satellite programs she thought to herself. Modern technology, coupled with the advent of accessible commercial imagery, allowed anyone to enjoy the advantages of overhead collection. It was all free thanks to Google’s army of software engineers in Menlo Park, California.

  Yaffa proceeded to zoom in and print several overhead images of the property and roads nearby using her Bluetooth enabled portable printer. This would allow Yaffa to efficiently plan the entry into, and exit from the property, thereby improving Kadir’s chances for success. Surprise is vital for contract killing, but only after meticulous planning.

  The job of killing the Israeli spy was rushed. Kadir and Yaffa knew that, having only a short window of opportunity to plan. However, Kadir felt the agent would feel comfortable on his first day in Turkey. Without a ‘portfolio’ built, security might be negligible. Moreover, the chance of killing a Mossad agent was too much of an opportunity to let slip by. Kadir’s attention focused on killing the man.

  Yaffa examined the streets and alleys near the property. After careful review of the location, including a five-block surrounding radius, she determined the best entry to be the south side of the property, where vegetation and shrubberies offered good concealment. Kadir would then move north and make his way into the apartment through the front door from the eastern side of the structure.

  “I think I’ve come up with something, Kadir.”

  “Good. We will be in Iskenderun in about twenty minutes. We’ll find a place and run through it.”

  Kadir felt confident Yaffa’s plan would work. She supported him for eighteen months and never disappointed the killer. As a former police officer in Ankara, Yaffa was meticulous, emotionless and calculating. These were qualities Kadir found necessary in a partner.

  Flanked by the Mediterranean Sea to the west, the anticipation of killing the Jew became stronger as the two continued their journey along the southern route to Iskenderun.

  Mossad safe house, Iskenderun, Turkey – November 5, 1:30 AM

  Awakened by the sound of his smart phone, Michael viewed the message from Laura.

  Hi, Michael. Trip is going very well. Making good contacts with several companies here. New York is cold! Sorry, you had to leave. Looking forward to dinner whenever you get back. XOXO. Laura

  Michael was excited to hear from her. She was brilliant, beautiful, warm and compassionate and everything he ever looked for in a woman. He wanted to be with her. For only the second time in his life, he genuinely felt in love.

  From the moment, he saw her long black hair and hazel eyes, he contemplated a less dangerous profession. Twenty years of regular travel and dangerous missions had left him longing for more. He needed a partner and did not want to grow old alone. In Michael’s mind, Laura was the reason he ne
eded to either retire or find a desk job in Langley somewhere.

  Michael replied.

  Great. Glad to hear it’s going well. Have fun and hope to be in touch tomorrow. Where would you like to eat?

  He then left his bed to get something to drink. His thirst quenched after sipping on bottled water, he worked his way back to the bedroom.

  A cat’s faint screech could be heard outside.

  Positioned on the bed next to the pillow was his Ruger LCP .380 automatic pistol equipped with a laser sight, the perfect companion while traveling. The lightweight and highly reliable small weapon was always stored neatly inside a hidden compartment in his briefcase. The briefcase, developed by CIA’s Science and Technology branch, was perfect for overseas travel and guaranteed the compartment undetectable from airport screeners.

  Barefoot, Michael secured his pistol and carefully moved behind the door to the entrance of the bedroom.

  The doorknob began turning slowly. Satisfied the lights were off, Kadir entered the apartment through the front door. With the lock successfully undone and Yaffa in the van nearby, he felt the operation was progressing as planned.

  Just an hour before, Yaffa and Kadir had circled the complex and remained in the van until they were sure the target was alone and without support. The time for Kadir to strike was now.

  As he pushed the door open slowly, Kadir observed the dark room the best he could. He noticed a sofa, a loveseat, and other interior furnishings common in one’s residence. To his left he could see the open kitchen. The apartment smelled clean and fresh he thought, probably recently prepared for his target.

  Kadir was able to determine a hallway leading from the end of the living room. There would be his victim as he gradually moved forward. Silence was now his best friend.

  As he carefully progressed down the hallway, he saw an opening along the right side of the wall. Turning his head slowly around the door Kadir found the bathroom. Getting closer he thought.