The Puppetmasters (16 page)

He paused just long enough to take a breath and continued in his tirade. “Making that deposit into her account was a stroke of genius! The American intelligence agencies will be all over her and every aspect of her life. We’ve bought ourselves a couple days. The plan will have been set in motion by the time the Americans rethink the kidnapping episode.”

The director was very worried about Rashid. “Agent Sharif … Rashid, are you with us?” And then in an attempt to mollify Rashid, he allowed himself a somewhat soothing tone, “We will do everything we can to rectify the situation at the end of the mission. Be assured that a full explanation will be given to the Americans. Ms. Radcliffe’s reputation will be restored. The current scenario is simply a short-term solution to direct the Americans away from our mission.”

To take the focus off Rashid and minimize any further embarrassment to his favorite agent by having singled him out, Zimmerman pointed his finger at all of the agents present. “You all need to remember that our single most important goal is the destruction of the poppy fields and the related upstream manufacturing and distribution. Secondary and perhaps even as important is the complete annihilation of President Shazeb’s dictatorship and the end of his family rule. He and his sons will be destroyed. No … must be destroyed … for the good of the entire region!”

He continued his tirade. “Israel is not unsympathetic to the Afghanistan people. But if we do this right and expose Shazeb’s evil ways, the people will be thankful. We will help them find a new leader who will rule with fairness and by democratic principles. And the whole of the Asia and the Middle East will be much more stable.”

Zimmerman didn’t dare tell the group—and particularly Rashid—that he had big plans for Rashid down the road. That he saw Rashid assuming a critical leadership position once the country of Afghanistan was reorganized. Just how high Rashid went up the ladder of leadership was up to circumstances and how he conducted himself through the present mission. He’d worked very hard to
gain the loyalty of the Afghanistan military and had allies in every city. Rashid was generally known as an honorable and fair military advisor.

Oh, yes, the Americans would want to be involved. But it had exited Afghanistan years earlier and since then had not taken an active role in managing it or helping it grow. Its capitalistic enterprises had been burned and run out of town. Because America’s taste for war was long gone, it turned tail and ran. Its subsequent years of political infighting and move towards isolationism had allowed a sleeping giant to grow beyond an acceptable position.

Israel had picked up the mantle of policing the Middle East through covert means. It was dealing with Afghanistan in the most back-door manner. Once Rashid Sharif had become known to Israeli operatives through his then university roommate, Rashid had been in their back pockets from then on. The hatred Rashid had for the Afghanistan way of life, and the Shazeb family, who had destroyed his own family, fueled the disloyalty. It had been relatively easy to lure Rashid over to their side. He had always been interested in his mother’s background and wanted to connect with the country of which she had such fond memories.

He remembered his mother as a gentle soul. She had spoken of her family back in Israel with such sadness and devotion. But she had come to love her Afghanistan husband, and once she bore children, could see no way to live in both worlds. She had reconciled herself to the Afghan way of life and convinced herself to be the best wife and mother she could.

What Rashid didn’t realize was that Director Zimmerman wanted him installed as the new leader of Afghanistan so that Israel could begin to assert more control and power in the Middle East. Israel believed it could manipulate and control Rashid just like it had done to several other international leaders whom Israel had backed.

They were underestimating Rashid. He had values, ethics, and honor, and would never agree to be a puppet at the hands of a self-interested Israel with ulterior motives … even if he had blood ties. Rashid wanted Shazeb out so that a fair and honorable leader could be installed in Afghanistan. The leader would look out for the country’s best interests, starting with its citizens. He would promote good will with the neighboring countries and seek to raise Afghanistan’s status as a world leader. Those might be lofty goals for such a backward country, but with the right leadership great strides could be made in the next ten years to help Afghanistan. It certainly had the resources, and now it only needed the right people and organization to move it forward.

Director Zimmerman began pacing before the group. “Agent Menard will step up the monitoring. Get one of the new hires to assist full time. I will have him reassigned to tactical monitoring for the next month.” He looked over at Menard. “I cannot emphasize enough how important it will be to employ the
countermeasures on the Orion communication wave stream. You know the American intelligence community probably possesses the same abilities that we do, to establish a one-way ear from whatever source we are inclined to monitor. But we have the added advantage of having our Orion protégé Blumfeld on our side. He will let us know if others are on to our abilities.”

He grabbed the sheet of paper on the table and ticked off the remaining items in pedantic fashion. “Agent Sharif, you will set the Afghanistan mission on its course in two days’ time. It will begin in the evening. The Paris team will run into their American counterparts at an outdoor café in Paris and will let slip through vague reference that it is working on a drug matter that will be eradicated soon. The London team will request an immediate meeting with British intelligence and seek their assistance in tracking a large-scale drug smuggler thought to be operating in the Mediterranean Sea … possibly out of Lebanon. This will stroke the English egos and focus its teams on the Mediterranean Sea. I am hoping England will send a couple ships to patrol the Mediterranean. In the meanwhile, our mission will go forward in the Arabian Sea.”

Zimmerman began pacing again. “Lastly, the Iranian team will stay close to the border and be ready to assist with the extraction of the Orion people. That should take place the morning after Rashid has begun the operation.” He stopped pacing and looked between the agents and the screen. “Any questions?” he barked.

No one spoke. In fact, it was deathly silent. This moment had been coming for a long time, and the agents were moving into their combat-like roles. They knew exactly what was expected of them. They were but a cog in the wheel of this mission. Every last detail was to be attended to. Every agent’s role was critical to the success of the mission. Rashid’s was the most vital and dangerous. He was to give the electronic signal once the Shazeb family had been neutralized.

Rashid practiced his rhythmic breathing. He was having to do it a lot these days in order to appear calm and “normal.” In reality, he felt agitated and stressed. His senses were heightened, and he realized that the time for action had come. He was considered a young Mossad agent. This was basically his first and only assignment. He was not in the employ of the distinguished agency for any purpose other than to see the Shazebs obliterated. But he understood that the destruction of the drug manufacture and supply operation was as important an undertaking.

He doubted that Director Zimmerman realized the extent of his hatred for President Shazeb and his boys. Rashid had lain low for so many years now that he often feared that the ruination of the Shazebs would never take place. In the interim years, Rashid had learned a lot about patience and that timing
was everything. He couldn’t believe that he let slip his concern about Kendall during the conference call. He was wise beyond his years, and very rarely showed his emotional side. He made a mental note to guard against future irrational displays of emotion.

That was one reason he was drawn to Kendall. When he was with her, he could be himself. He let his guard down, allowed himself to smile, and even enjoy himself. Upon meeting her, he had realized that the only way to establish a personal connection with her was through emotion and truth. The more truthful he was, the more she was drawn to him and trusted him. The only way to deal with her was through straightforward communication. That is what he had done. Kendall was very good at sizing people up and determining their authenticity. She could also spot the dangerous souls who crossed her path.

The few but huge lapses in information that he kept from Kendall were not to be helped. Right now, Rashid needed to think through every detail of his plan. It involved Kendall in a major way. His plan had better be perfect. He would sell it to Kendall as her only way out. Unfortunately, he would need to use Glenn Carson’s current critical medical condition in order to instill a sense of urgency. At this point, Rashid was not even sure that Carson would survive any rescue attempt. But at least he could be brought home.

Rashid left the sheep hut, carrying all of his Mossad tools. He stowed them away in a couple of hidden compartments he had made in the jeep. Because he drove an older model, somewhat battered military jeep, no one ever asked to borrow it. In fact, he was often teased about his lowly broken-down jeep. Even President Shazeb accused him of making him look bad. The leader had offered a brand new jeep to Rashid several times, but each time the young man had declined. He said that he preferred to remain the humble servant that he was. Thankfully, Shazeb was not too up on his English literature, or Rashid was sure he would have conjured up an image of the
David Copperfield
character
Uriah Heep.
He had to be careful not to feign too much humility.

Rashid figured he had learned most of his patience from the years of living amongst the Shazeb clan. He was well liked, didn’t outshine the Shazeb boys, could easily manipulate them to stop squabbling, and teased and cajoled the Shazeb women. They all thought highly of him and welcomed him in their presence and their household.

He drove back to the makeshift gun range and prepared himself to be as honest as he needed to be in explaining the situation to Kendall. He gave a big sigh as he bounced over one of the many potholes on the road. He enjoyed the ride along the slow-moving creek. He wished the drive would last forever.

There was so much responsibility on his shoulder. He must succeed. Anything less than complete success would be fatal to the Orion people and himself personally and to the mission and possibly the Middle East and the rest
of the world. He quickly recited the Jewish
Prayer of Protection
that his mother had taught him. After a few minutes, he felt the anxiety leaving him. It was replaced with a sturdy resolve and determined mindset.

I
T HAPPENED VERY UNEXPECTEDLY.
T
HE
pulsing beat on the cardiac monitoring device was rhythmic and steady. Without warning the cardiac telemetry registered a flat line. A high-pitched alarm sounded, and the nearby physicians and nurses came running. A crash cart was brought in and every attempt was made to resuscitate the patient. The patient was blue and registered no heartbeat, and the pupils were dilated with no corneal reflex. Several attempts were made to shock the heart back into normal sinus rhythm. After three defibrillation attempts, Mrs. Radcliffe was declared dead.

The night nurse felt particularly bad. In the past couple days, no relative had been located. It was clear Mrs. Radcliffe was loved. Her neighbor had called for an update, but the hospital declined to offer a status for privacy reasons. Mrs. Radcliffe had died alone and without her daughter beside her. The daughter wasn’t even aware that her mother had suffered a heart attack and was currently in the intensive care unit.

Mrs. Radcliffe’s body was sent to the morgue in the basement of the hospital. The cause of death was straightforward: myocardial infarction.

The night nurse felt helpless. It was the end of her shift. Mrs. Radcliffe’s room had been cleaned and readied for the next patient. The nurse was about to go off duty and was staring at the computer screen trying to make sense of the tragedy. She didn’t know why this particular death was hitting her so hard. People in the ICU die all the time.

A nondescript man in an ill-fitting business suit hurried past her and stopped at the doorway of the now empty hospital room. She did not recognize him as having visited any of the other patients. He was obviously not following the ICU protocol of suiting up in protective gown and booties. She moved toward him. “Excuse me, Sir. Who are you looking for? I think you are in the wrong place. This is the ICU, and you shouldn’t be here.”

He was abrupt and borderline rude. He pointed toward the empty room.
“Where is the patient who was in this room?” His eyes flashed concern but only in a professional context. The nurse could tell he wasn’t a caring relative by his demeanor, or lack thereof.

“There is no one assigned to this room yet, Sir. Who are you looking for?”

He was impatient and barked, “I am looking for Mrs. Radcliffe. Where is she? I see you have moved her out of ICU. Answer me!”