Dark Waters (21 page)

G
anani jerked her head toward the security checkpoint at the front entrance. “Those men Lotner is talking to . . . they are some of our agents.”

“If we’re going to do something, it has to be now,” Jordan said.

Together, they stepped back into the interrogation room.

“Haddid, I need you to listen to me.” Jordan turned off the recorder on the table and leaned in close to his ear. “Things are complicated. We are not sure who we can trust. For your safety, we need to move you somewhere else.”

Haddid looked alarmed. “You are kidnapping me?”

“We are moving you. I need you to follow my lead and do what I say.”

Ganani took a key from her pocket, unlocked Haddid’s handcuffs, and then recuffed his hands behind his back. “I’m not taking any chances.”

“We’re going to go out the back entrance and through the underground parking garage,” Jordan said.

“What car will we use?” Ganani asked.

“We’re going to have to take one.” Jordan wasn’t sure she could hotwire a car, but being out on the street was better than turning Haddid over to Brodsky’s men.

“Let me go first,” Ganani said. “I can talk to the agents and buy you some time.”

Jordan stood at the window of the interrogation room and watched her cross the bullpen. Ganani reached Lotner at the same time the last agent was clearing security. This would be the true test of whether or not she could trust the Shin Bet agent. Ganani wormed her way through the men before turning around and engaging them in conversation, forcing their backs to the big room. That was her cue.

Jordan opened the door and gestured to the guard stationed outside. “The prisoner needs to use the bathroom.”

The guard moved to take charge, but Jordan pushed herself between him and Haddid. “I’ll escort him.”

The guard pointed her to the back of the room.

Shepherding Haddid in front of her, she spoke softly. “I’ll turn around when we reach the bathroom to make sure the guard hasn’t followed. On my signal, we’ll move down the hall and out the back door. If we run into anyone along the way, you let me do the talking.”

Jordan stole a glance behind her at the door to the bathroom. The guard was watching Ganani. Everyone was watching Ganani. She was reenacting the scene at the Sheikh Sa’ad crossing.

Jordan pushed Haddid into the hallway. “Go.”

The two of them sprinted for the back door. Once through the parking garage and at the exit to the street, Jordan took out her keys and uncuffed Haddid’s hands. “I’m trusting you not to run.”

“You have my word.”

“This way.” She steered him down the street. When they were half a block away, a car screeched to a stop at the curb beside them. Jordan’s hand moved to her gun. The passenger car door flew open and Ganani leaned from the driver’s seat.

“Get in.”

Jordan ushered Haddid into the backseat of a standard-issue cop car. A screen protected the front seat from the back, and the child security locks were engaged.

Jordan slid into the passenger seat. “How did you get the car?”

“I borrowed the keys.”

Jordan pulled out her phone and punched a one on her speed dial. Daugherty answered on the first ring.

“Where the fuck are you?” he asked. “Lotner called me and said you were picked up at the border with Batya Ganani. What the hell were you doing there?”

“There isn’t time to explain. I have reason to believe—”

“I don’t give a flying donkey what you believe, Jordan. But you better know this. You’re headed stateside on the next transport after this clusterfuck.”

“Sir—”

“I don’t want to hear your lame-ass excuses. An Israeli policeman is dead, and I have the ambassador and the director breathing down my neck, wanting to know what happened out there and why we were using the judge for an exchange.”

Jordan stiffened. “That was your call, sir.”

“You ran the operation. You’re the one with the answers.” His voice sounded cold. He had turned on her, just like she knew he would.

“Ultimately, Jordan, you are responsible for reporting on what happened out there. Now answer the question. Where the fuck are you?”

Daugherty had ridden roughshod over her since her arrival in Israel. He and Posner. She had followed his orders and now he had set her up to take the fall.

But there was no way in hell she was going to let that happen.

“Sir, I need you to listen to me. I have knowledge of two credible threats.”

“Bullshit.”

Jordan soldiered on. “One against Dan Posner and one against the State of Israel.”

She hoped the mention of Posner’s name would grab Daugherty’s attention. The silence on the phone made her think for a moment that the line had gone dead.

“Sir?”

“What is it with you and your conspiracy theories, Jordan?”

The question was rhetorical. She didn’t answer.

“Where did you get this intel?”

Jordan wondered how much to say over a nonsecure line. She turned and stared out the window at the empty streets of Tel Aviv. “We captured one of the terrorists, sir.”

“And he volunteered all this? Or maybe your Shin Bet buddy helped you coerce it out of him.”

Jordan could picture the wheels turning in his head.

“Where is this terrorist now?”

Jordan stared out at the backdrop of the city slipping past the car window as she considered how to respond. Lights flickered on in the buildings as the city awoke. A taxi passed. A pedestrian walked a dog. She realized that if Daugherty got his hands on Haddid, the Palestinian was just as dead. Brodsky would demand that Daugherty hand him over, and Daugherty would comply.

Ganani turned to look at Jordan. “What is he saying?”

Jordan shook her head slightly.

Daugherty started in again. “Did it ever occur to you that your prisoner is lying? It’s classic. He’s got you focusing your attention somewhere other than where it belongs.”

“I believe he’s telling the truth.”

“I want to talk to this fellow myself. We need to make sure he’s telling the truth.”

If Jordan had learned one thing in the past few days, it was that sometimes you had to improvise to get the job done. She looked back at Haddid. “I can’t bring him in, sir.”

Ganani threw her a sharp look.

“Why not?” Daugherty asked.

“The prisoner has already been taken into Shin Bet custody.”

Ganani’s mouth twitched into a smile. Haddid’s gaze bounced to Jordan through the rearview mirror. She didn’t know him well enough to read his expression.

“Great,” Daugherty said. “Let him be their problem. All that’s left now is to pull the guard detail at the Taylor apartment.”

His comment caught Jordan off guard. “We can’t pull the detail.”

“It’s over, Jordan. The terrorists are all dead or in custody. Taylor and his kid are no longer targets. We could use the manpower. I’ll call off the Marines. You get your ass home.” With that, Daugherty hung up.

Jordan looked at her phone. Ganani looked at her expectantly.

“The plan has changed.” Jordan filled her in on Daugherty’s half of the conversation while their prisoner listened. “We can’t risk handing Haddid over to anyone at the embassy. And I don’t know that Daugherty will warn Posner.”

“What do we do now? Your boss ordered you to bring in the operation, and I’ve put my career on the line.” Ganani’s foot tapped the brake. “Maybe it’s time to turn around.”

In Jordan’s mind, the implications were clear. She could let Ganani take Haddid in and maybe salvage her job. After what happened in Manger Square, Jordan’s career with the DSS was all but over. If she was lucky, she would be reassigned to a desk job checking license plates. Or sent to some remote location, someplace nobody else would willingly go, to protect someone nobody had ever heard of.

Thinking about it was enough to kick-start a plan. She had worked hard for this job, and she’d be damned if Daugherty was going to prevent her from doing it right.

“Drive to Dizengoff Square,” she said.

Ganani continued to slow down. “Why there?”

“We need to get Haddid off the street and get word to Posner to watch his back. Taylor can help with that.” Jordan strategized as she spoke. She knew that she couldn’t get through to Posner except through Daugherty, who considered her off the reservation. But Taylor’s ex-wife was a friend of the ambassador’s. Taylor could deliver a message.

“After that?”

Jordan decided to deliver the message straight. “We’re going to hack into GG&B’s computers and find out what Tibi took.”

Ganani stared hard at her hands on wheel. “Do we have an alternative?”

“Do you have a better idea?” Jordan glanced back at Haddid. “We’re running out of time.”

The car began to accelerate.

Jordan lay her head back against the seat. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

T
hey rode the rest of the way to Zinah Dizengoff Square in silence. Once in sight of the apartments, Jordan gestured toward the motel across the street. “Park over there.”

Ganani angled into a spot with a view.

Jordan started to get out, and the Shin Bet agent reached for the door handle.

“I am going with you,” she said.

“You need to stay here with Haddid. Let me scope out the situation.”

Ganani rolled down the window and slouched low in her seat. “Five minutes.”

Jordan held up her phone. “If I don’t call, get Haddid out of here.”

“To where?”

“Somewhere,” Jordan said. “Anywhere.”

Keeping to the shadows, Jordan skirted the square, showing herself in pools of light from the street lamps only. Not a soul stirred on Dizengoff Street. She saw a flash of car lights two blocks up, but the vehicle turned in the other direction. Then her phone vibrated in her pocket. She checked the display. Walker.

“Hello?”

“What’s the word, boss?”

Jordan stopped short of the garden gate. There was no sign of the Marine guard. “Did Daugherty call?”

“Yes. He ordered us to pull up roots.”

“Did you?”

“I sent everyone else packing. I’m still here, because Taylor arranged it with Daugherty to have me stay.”

“For how long?”

“The next seventy-two hours, during which time he can arrange for private bodyguards.”

Jordan swung open the gate to the garden. “Have Taylor meet me outside at the back door of the bar in two minutes.”

“Covert ops?” Then, when she didn’t answer, “Oorah.”

*

Jordan watched Taylor exit the apartment. She sat deep in the shadows, perched on the edge of a wrought iron bench in the garden—the one the bar patrons used when smoking outside. From there, she had a good view of the fenced-in courtyard, the entrances, and the other apartments. The bar was locked up tight, and the only building unit with any visible lights belonged to Taylor and Lucy.

“I take it you’ve heard,” Jordan said, when Taylor slid onto the bench beside her.

“That the guard has been pulled? Yes. Got that news.”

“Are you okay with it?”

“No. I’m worried about Lucy.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s red-hot with fever. Alena helped her as much as she could in the state she was in. Alena’s in the hospital for now and expected to be home on Sunday.”

“Just be glad she’s not dead,” Jordan said.

“It easily could have gone that way.” Taylor scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Meanwhile, the last thing I want right now is to have to watch my own back.”

“I hear you have until Monday.” Jordan glanced down at her watch. She’d burned two minutes. Taylor leaned forward, knees on his elbows, and cupped his head in his hands.

“Your boss referred me to a private protection agency. After throwing my ex-wife’s name around, I finally convinced him to let me keep one guard for another seventy-two hours.”

“That’s great.”

Taylor sat up. “You seem to be taking this well.”

“I’m just glad he left you with a guard. After everything that happened, who knows whether Zuabi or his men will come after you again. I’d rather we didn’t find out the hard way.” Jordan rubbed her eyes, aware that the strain of the day was catching up to her. It made sense to give Taylor four days. Shabbat began in fewer than twenty-four hours. Arranging for a private bodyguard between now and Sunday could prove impossible, even in Tel Aviv.

“At least Daugherty’s done one thing right.”

Taylor must have picked up on her stress. He sat up straighter. “What haven’t you told me?”

Was she that easy to read?

Jordan scanned the perimeter of the courtyard. Her watch said three-and-a-half minutes were gone. It was time to man up.

“Batya Ganani is across the street waiting for my call. She has one of the terrorists with her, a man named Haddid. We freed him from custody tonight. By now, the Israeli police and Shin Bet are looking for him, and for us. The DSS wants a chance to talk to him, too.”

Taylor was fully alert. “Why did you spring him?”

“Haddid saved my life tonight. And based on what he’s telling us, there is a large-scale terrorist attack about to take place in Israel.”

“Can he prove it?”

“No, but we think we can duplicate the information Najm Tibi was passing to Steven Cline. We know it was pulled from a secured computer at the GG&B offices in Haifa. If we can access the computer, we may be able to obtain the data and figure out its intended use.” Jordan looked over to make sure Taylor was following.

“Can you get to it?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.” She was down to one minute. “We also have another problem.” With time running out, Jordan quickly explained Zuabi’s plan to eliminate Dan Posner. “This is where you come in. We need you to deliver a message.”

“That’s it?”

Jordan moved sideways, bumping shoulders with Taylor. “That’s it, unless you can hack a computer.”

T
wenty minutes later, Jordan called an impromptu powwow in Taylor’s living room. Dawn was cracking the horizon, painting the sky and apartment walls in colors of orange and purple. Haddid was tied to a chair at the kitchen table. Lucy was still in bed.

“Is she doing any better?” Jordan asked when Taylor emerged from her bedroom. She imagined the girl as she’d last seen her, cheeks burning red with fever.

“Her temperature is still high, but it’s coming down. She seems stable, for now.” Taylor said it matter-of-factly, as though treating someone from your hospital bed was a normal thing. Funny how it now fit within her definition of “normal.” A few days ago, Jordan would have deemed him crazy.

“So what is the plan?” he asked, sitting down on the couch and completing the circle that included Jordan, himself, Walker, and Ganani. “I’m ready to nail the bastards who killed Weizman.”

Ganani stared at him. “They’re already dead.”

By the expression on his face, Taylor was looking for payback, and her assessment wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“I have a more important job for you,” Jordan said. “We need your help getting to Posner.” She sketched out the plan that had formed in her head. “Your ex-wife is a close friend of Ambassador Linwood’s wife, right?”

“Yes, Sarah and Tracy Linwood met in college. Both members of the Young Republicans.”

“Do you think she’d agree to see you?”

“Hell, yes. Tracy would love nothing more than to tell me face-to-face what an asshole I am.”

“Who is Dan Posner?” Walker asked.

Jordan fit the pieces together for him. “He was my previous boss. He oversaw a raid in Denver, where Abdul Aleem Zuabi’s niece was killed. Posner now heads up the secretary’s guard detail. He’ll be at the visiting guest residence tomorrow. Today,” she amended, acknowledging the morning light sifting through the window shades. “The secretary arrives at ten a.m.”

“You’re sure this Zuabi dude’s not targeting the secretary of state?” Walker said.

“He’s planning a revenge killing,” Jordan said. “The secretary of state’s death would be a bonus.”

Ganani picked a pen up off the table, pointing at various objects with it like an experienced marksman. “How do they know where Posner will be if the information we gave them was false?”

“The itineraries were switched—the scheduled visits, times, routes of travel—but the protection detail doesn’t change. Posner’s still assigned to be at the embassy residence.”

Taylor stretched his arm along the back of the couch. “That’s still a lot of territory to cover, and they won’t know where he’ll be exactly.”

“Unless someone is feeding them information.” Jordan had her suspicions that there was a mole among them. “Whoever shot Weizman in the square yesterday knew what they were doing. That was a planned attack.”

They all looked at each other.

“There’s too much ground to cover to find one man,” Ganani said.

He was a glory hound, thought Jordan. “He’ll stick close to the action.”

“So requesting an audience with the ambassador’s wife puts me in proximity to the target.”

“Right,” said Jordan. “I can get us through the gate. I just don’t know what will happen once Daugherty discovers I’m on the grounds. He may have issued orders for the Marines in the guard shack to report or detain me.”

“None of this helps us identify the attacker,” Walker said.

Haddid scooted the kitchen chair, causing it to squeal against the tile. “I can identify Zuabi’s man.”

They all swiveled their heads to stare at him.

He jumped the chair again, moving it closer to the couch. “I’m the only one among you who can. I know Zuabi. He does not have enough men for a full-scale attack. He will have someone on the inside, a worker who can pass the gate.”

Jordan knew it made sense. “Someone who’s been there long enough to have smuggled in a weapon.”

Haddid nodded. “Najm was not the only Israeli Arab willing to help with the cause.”

Jordan locked eyes with the Palestinian, but she couldn’t read him. She considered the idea that he might want to protect the insider, but that seemed uncomfortably close to Daugherty’s way of thinking. “Why would you help us?”

“I have a son and a wife. If I do not act, I fear my son will grow up knowing only hatred and war. That he will become a man like Zuabi—a man who cares not what happens to others as long as he can exact his revenge. If I do not act, I fear my wife will not like the man I am destined to become.”

Walker was the first to speak. “The dude makes sense.”

Taylor nodded in agreement.

“He’s playing us,” Ganani said. “How can you not see it?”

“And I think he’s telling the truth,” Jordan said. That made it three to one.

The U.S. embassy employed lots of local workers, lots of Israeli Arabs. Profiling discrimination accounted for overly zealous background checks on anyone of Muslim faith—searches for known associates, prior convictions—but the recent attack on the U.S. embassy in Kabul attested to the fact that it was always possible for someone to slip through the cracks.

Ganani set down the pen. “Are you saying this worker could pass back and forth through the gate?”

This time, they all turned to Jordan. “Yes” wasn’t the answer any of them was looking for, but it was all she had.

“Only the ambassador, a few key personnel, and the security detail live on the embassy grounds. Everyone else comes and goes every day.” She considered the ramifications. It was dawn. The workers were already arriving. She could hear the clock ticking. “If Haddid can identify the assassin, it’s worth the risk to put him on site.”

“And if this is a game?” Ganani said.

Jordan shrugged. “Then you can shoot him.”

Within twenty minutes, they had cobbled together a plan, knowing full well they might have already lost their advantage. Taylor and Jordan would time their arrival at the embassy for the hour before the secretary of state’s arrival. Ganani would take Haddid to a vantage point across the street from the embassy entrance.

While Ganani gathered equipment for a stakeout, Taylor went to check on Lucy and Walker assembled a makeshift command center in the kitchen consisting of an HP laptop, an iPhone, and a set of Tel Aviv maps taped to the kitchen cupboards.

With Jordan watching over his shoulder, Walker logged onto Taylor’s computer. Within minutes, he had hacked the tenant log of one of the tall buildings across the street from the U.S. embassy
and located an empty suite on the fourth floor with a great view of the guardhouse.

“You can see the main entrance and parts of both main parking areas from here.” Walker pulled up the site on Google Earth and showed Ganani and Jordan a view of the building. Swiveling the icon, he showed them a view of the embassy grounds. It must have been quiet the day the footage was shot. There was one guard on duty and an empty parking lot. Today would be different. The secretary of state was due to arrive in less than five hours. Today there would be a full guard and security contingent, along with the press, the political pundits, and some who simply liked the hoopla.

“If Haddid identifies the insider, can you shoot him from here?” Jordan asked.

Ganani nodded. “As long as he’s either entering the grounds or on the west side of the buildings.”

The stakeout location secured, Ganani departed with Haddid. She would check in once the observation point had been established. Knowing that she and Taylor had two hours to wait, Jordan pulled a chair up to the kitchen table and watched Walker do his thing. “What do you think our chances are of hacking into GG&B’s computers?”

“With this state-of-the-art setup, how could I miss?” Walker waved his hand across the assembly of gadgets. “The truth? Don’t hold your breath. My only chance is to remote access my computer. I have some gadgets and apps that can help, but GG&B’s security is tight. If I can get through, and that’s a big if, it could take me hours. At least if we don’t want to be noticed.”

Two hours later, Ganani and Haddid were holed up across the street from the U.S. embassy. By the last check-in, Haddid had not spotted any of Abdul Aleem Zuabi’s known associates and GG&B remained unscathed.

Walker arched his back and stretched. “Their security is ironclad. If I had better equipment . . .” He let his words taper off.

“What about the embassy’s?” She and Taylor were headed in that direction. “How friendly are you with the geek squad?”

“Not friendly enough to be granted access to their equipment, but I’m sure as hell not getting anywhere here.” Walker shoved the mouse and an arrow scurried across screen. “If I could get into the embassy tech room, I might be able to make some headway. But then there’s Lucy. She can’t stay here alone.”

They needed a babysitter. Someone Lucy would be comfortable with and who liked Lucy. Someone they could trust. Jordan ticked through the possibilities in her head. Finally, only one name remained.