The Boudicca Parchments (5 page)

He saw nothing untoward. The place was almost completely empty, save for an old dark wooden chest that seemed like some aging relic to remind people that that house had once been occupied. It was then that Daniel noticed a pair of feet protruding from beyond the wooden chest.

He well knew the old classic film noir scenario in which the innocent man stumbles on the corpse only to be accused of murder. The natural reaction was to run. But he was an adult and he had to keep his thought processes within the realm of a man’s estate. The feet might be attached to a dead body, but it could equally have been something innocent, like a tramp taking refuge in an abandoned house and oversleeping after a heavy night’s boozing. He had to know, before he did anything rash. So he took a couple of steps towards the chest and what lay partially obscured behind it.

But as he was about to take his third step, something arrested his movement. For in that instant he became aware of an unpleasant smell. Not a rotting or decaying corpse. But still a strong pungent smell.

It was the smell of petrol.

And before he could process the information any further, there was a sound from outside and movement in his peripheral vision as a burning object seemed to fly overhead. It landed near him and there was a loud, deep roar of air, as the house went up in flames. He made a dash for the door, but tripped and as he tried to get up, he started coughing and choking from the smoke and fumes.

He was amazed at how quickly the effect took hold of him. But this wasn’t just a fire: it was a fire started deliberately and aided by an accelerant. Though his mind was sharp enough to understand this, his body – wracked by the smoke-induced choking spasm in his throat – lacked the resilience to do anything about it. He could hardly keep his eyes open and his head was spinning as the blackness descended upon him.

Chapter 9

In a windowless room at the Mossad’s headquarters in the coastal town of Herzliya, a beep alerted David (“Dovi”) Shamir to the fact that a message had just arrived. Dovi, in his late thirties, was a man of southern Mediterranean appearance. His mother had been Iraqi and his father of German-Polish extraction. They had met in the army during the Six-Day War, when Dovi’s father had served in the unit that liberated the eastern areas of Jerusalem, including the Old City, from which Jews and Israelis had been excluded for the previous nineteen years.

Formerly a field operative in the
Kidon
department of the Mossad, Dovi was now a desk officer.
Kidon
specialized in assassinations, working in small teams. But Dovi’s preference for flexibility led to him being re-assigned to work as a single operative. Successful at first, he was compromised in an anti-terrorist operation in which he successfully executed a terrorist who was planning a major operation in London. The execution itself was implemented flawlessly and the terrorists’ plan to blow up the sunken wreck of a second world war munitions ship was thwarted. But Dovi’s face was captured on the terrorist’s webcam and he was now known to the enemy.

He had considered cosmetic surgery to alter his appearance – as the infamous terrorist Leila Khaled had done after she hijacked a TWA plane – so that she could resume her terrorist activities. In her case it had worked. She subsequently managed to board and initiate a hijacking of an El AL plane. But her efforts were thwarted by the bravery of the pilot – who refused to capitulate – and by El Al Security, who killed her terrorist partner and took Khaled alive, only to see her released by British Prime Minister Edward Heath as a collaborationist goodwill gesture towards the terrorists.

In the end, Shamir decided that cosmetic surgery could not be relied upon, so he retired to the back office. But he secretly missed the cut and thrust of field work.

He clicked on the eMail, keyed in his decryption key and saw the unencrypted eMail seconds later on the screen.

Intercept transcript – 5 August, 2012 – 1:30 IST

Call initiator(s): “Sam Morgan” (self-identified, see below) [no file or details]

Initiator locus: Ashford, Herts, Great Britain

Initiator phone: Cell phone +44 7535 330 560

Call respondent(s): Shalom Tikva (AKA “HaTzadik”) [on file]

Respondent locus: Me’ah She’arim, Jerusalem

Respondent phone: +972 2 681 3660

Reason(s): 1) Respondent on SHaBaK watch list for monitoring.

2) Conversation references subject (“Daniel Klein”) on watch list of Dovi Shamir.

FULL TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS:

SHALOM TIKVA: Hallo.

SAM MORGAN: It’s Morgan [PAUSE] Sam Morgan.

SHALOM TIKVA: I know. Why are you calling me at this time?

SAM MORGAN: We’ve got a problem. I’m at the dig site. One of the digging team found a scroll.

SHALOM TIKVA: Why did you wait till this unearthly hour to call me?

SAM MORGAN: Because he only just found it.

SHALOM TIKVA: What,
now
? What time is it there?

SAM MORGAN: Nearly midnight. He was digging after hours. I think he wasn’t part of the official team. But I know him. He’s a sleazy little man called Martin Costa.

SHALOM TIKVA: And where is he now?

SAM MORGAN: I’ve dealt with him.

SHALOM TIKVA: How?

SAM MORGAN: Permanently.

SHALOM TIKVA: Then why did you call me?

SAM MORGAN: Because he took a picture of it with his mobile phone and sent it to some one else?

SHALOM TIKVA: Do we know who?

[PAUSE]

SAM MORGAN: Yes. A man called Daniel Klein.

SHALOM TIKVA: And who is this Daniel Klein?

SAM MORGAN: He’s a professor or Semitic languages at University College London.

SHALOM TIKVA: And you think he’ll be able to interpret the scroll?

SAM MORGAN: The image was too blurred. He probably won’t be able to read the writing.

SHALOM TIKVA: Then I return to my earlier question. Why did you call?