WASHINGTON DC: The Sadir Affair (The Puppets of Washington Book 1) (10 page)

The weekend was well on its way now. Fred wasn’t due back in the office until Monday, but Mark’s call bothered him. He wasn’t so worried about the phone call itself; it was the fact that Sorenson seemed to be ordering him around, which annoyed him the most. Nicknamed “the cat”, Mark Gilford, needed to be guided but not put on a leash. He wouldn’t be able to function if anyone restricted his movements with orders or suggestions as to his behaviour. As he was about to send an email to Sorenson, he saw the message from the CIA in Washington. It read:

Be advised—Agent Muhammad Sadir has taken a leave of absence. All inquiries should be directed to Agent Cameron Sheffield.

Signed: D. Van Dams, Deputy Director.

“Badawee was right,” Fred muttered. However, this message was worrisome to say the least. It meant that Mossad had put things in motion. If they were the ones who had organized Sadir’s departure so quickly, it would not be too farfetched an assumption they were onto Mark and the Prince. By now Samuel was probably aware that his CIA contact had been removed from active duty and he would be on the move or even gone from Australia altogether. Besides, there was Talya to consider. She was in danger again. Mossad would have to get rid of her before she had an opportunity to reach the stand at Samuel’s trial. He remembered how difficult it had been to keep her in protective custody the last time she had been a target. The Saudi royal family had intervened and she had been released in Prince Khalid’s personal custody then. This whole situation was moving too fast for Fred’s liking. He swore under his breath.
Why don’t they leave the poor woman alone?

Namlah had gone shopping with his wife and kids that afternoon, and had his arms full of grocery bags when he came in and heard the phone ring in the hallway of his home. He dropped one of the bags on the chair beside the telephone table and picked up the receiver, the second bag still in his other arm.

“Hello, Mr. Badawee here.”

“Counsellor, Gibson here, I’m sorry to bother you, but would you mind coming in…? I know it’s the weekend…”

“Has something happened?” Namlah asked, depositing the other bag beside the first one.

“A lot, Counsellor, and I need your assistance before making a decision.”

“All right…, I should be able to be in the office in an hour.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

When Namlah hung up, he heard his wife call from the kitchen. “Who was that? Is everything okay?” She came to stand beside her husband.

“Sure. That was the Chief. He wants me to go in for a while.”

“Has something happened, did he say?”

Namlah shook his head. He didn’t want his wife to start worrying. “Not really, but he’s got to make some decisions before Monday and he’s asked for my input, do you mind?”

Salina Badawee picked up the bags from the chair, saying, “No, of course not. I just thought of Thelma and Bob; remember they’re coming for dinner. Do you think you’ll be back by six?”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t take that long.”

“Okay…, you go ahead,” Salina said, already on her way back to the kitchen.

Within the hour, Namlah knocked on Fred’s office door. “Come in, come in,” he heard the chief say.

“Have a seat, Counsellor.” Fred beckoned to the lawyer to sit down across from him. “Thanks for coming in.”

“What happened?” Namlah asked, lowering himself into the chair.

“Plenty. You were right. Mossad seemed to have reacted as soon as they were alerted of the Aussie issuing a warrant for Samuel’s arrest... and... Sadir has been sent on leave.”

Namlah stroked his moustache. “Hum, I didn’t expect they would move on Sadir so fast. That’s a bit surprising.”

“Surprising?” Fred’s quizzical face told Namlah he didn’t understand.

“No-no... It’s not the fact that they reacted, but the fact that the CIA ordered Sadir’s removal that’s surprising. In my mind, Mossad would shut down all communications with him, yes, but not
remove
him until they were sure his usefulness ran out. But, if the CIA thought he’d stepped out of line somehow, then yes, they would send him away rather quickly.”

“And inviting Ms Kartz to follow the Prince to Australia had a lot to do with the speed at which they
disposed
of him, I’d say.”

Namlah pushed on the armrests and straightened up in the chair. He seemed a bit restless. “That was a mistake, yes. Sadir should have stayed put. The CIA had him under observation probably since Ben Slimane’s elimination. But he had ideas of grandeur, I guess, and he wanted to gain points with Mossad, perhaps, by having Prince Khalid, Ms Kartz and our agent killed in the one go.”

“Okay, I understand that, but again the question is what do we do about it? And what about Ms Kartz; I think she’s in danger…”

“No doubt she is, along with everyone who was remotely involved with the arms’ provision to Israel, outside of the Mossad cell, of course.” Namlah returned to stroking his moustache. “Have you called her lately?”

“Yes, when we didn’t know where our prince had gone... but I didn’t get her on the line.”

“Did you talk to someone…?”

“Yeah, I got the doctor. He was the one who had called on Khalid to come to Vancouver. He wanted his help.”

“To do what?”

“Well, you’ve heard him when he was here. He wanted to help her out of her post-traumatic depression, if he could.”

“Yes,” Namlah nodded, “I remember. And what did the doctor have to say?”

“He just said he would relay the message. They were on their way to some island apparently for the weekend...”

“Do you know where?”

“No, I didn’t check, why?”

“I think it would be a good idea to know exactly where she is from now on. Mossad has eyes everywhere and they’ve probably kept tabs on her.”

Fred’s big heart was nudging at his brain. He didn’t want to admit the obvious. “But she’s an invalid for God’s sake. They wouldn’t...”

“Oh yes, they would, sir. No doubt whatsoever. She can talk, can’t she?”

“But why didn’t they kill her right off the bat then?”

“Good question. I think the answer to that is buried in Mossad’s intentions.”

“What intentions? What are you talking about?”

“Keep in mind; she is Jewish, Chief.”

“What’s that got to do with anything? Jewish or not she’s a liability.”

“Yes, but for whom?”

Fred said, “Are you trying to tell me they want to enrol her or get her to switch camps? I don’t see it.”

“Again, let’s look at the big picture. Prince Khalid is partly responsible for her trouble and for the death of Hassan Sangor; she’s not a forgiving woman, you know that. Then, you’ve got Khalid’s Uncle dwelling in arms trade or in drug smuggling; and both men are Muslims.”

“So, you’re saying it would be easy for her to be swayed into joining Mossad’s camp if they demonstrated to her that they spared her…? But that’s tantamount to ask her to commit treason. She wouldn’t.”

“Frankly, I don’t know her well enough to tell you what she’ll do. Besides, and I’m sorry to contradict you, Chief, but being a Mossad agent in this country doesn’t amount to treason. Israel isn’t on our enemies’ list, not that I know of. And the fact remains that Samuel has eliminated the man at the bottom of her troubles.”

“Wouldn’t she stay quiet then?”

“Maybe, but the point is her memory of Slimane being a Mossad agent and Samuel (or Isaac at the time) would be very accurate. She could identify him... and so could the doctor, as I understand it.”

“You think the doctor is in danger as well then?”

“Of course he is. He was a witness to the killings on the trawler, and he was in Paris when Slimane identified himself for the first time. Besides, now that we’re bringing Samuel back to stand trial, both Ms Kartz and Dr. Hendrix will be on the list of witnesses for the prosecution. Mossad cannot afford to have anyone on the stand that could destroy their infiltration cells in the States.”

“Wouldn’t it be better then to have Samuel taken out?” Fred didn’t like the idea, but if that were the only solution to protect Talya and Mark, and now the doctor, he wouldn’t hesitate to order Mark to assassinate Samuel Meshullam.

“And have Agent Gilford arrested for first-degree murder?” Namlah shook his head. “No, Chief. That would be a huge mistake. The Australians would not view this as a case of self-defence. Believe me. They would even call on Prince Khalid to testify at Agent Gilford’s trial to demonstrate that the Saudis were involved in this as well. You don’t want to open that can of worms, Chief.”

“Okay then, but what do we do? I can’t just sit back and let the chips fall where they may, now can I?”

“Why not? We’ve done what needed to be done a long time ago. You’ve applied for Samuel’s extradition, which will see him come back to Canada—and not the States—and stand trial for attempted murder, as he should.”

“I guess you’re right. So, you suggest we put Ms Kartz and the doctor under protective custody?” Again, that was an idea Fred was reluctant to contemplate.

Another shake of Namlah’s head riveted Fred’s gaze on him. “No, Chief. She and the doctor need protection, yes, but not put them in protective custody. It will take weeks for us to bring this to trial and you can’t expect to keep these two cloistered for months at a time. I suggest you have a qualified agent, someone with a nurse’s background perhaps, who would stay with Ms Kartz and keep an eye on the doctor meanwhile.”

“That’s a tall order, Counsellor. I don’t think we have an agent like that on the payroll. Even if we did, she wouldn’t be able to protect two people at the same time. Besides, I don’t think Ms Kartz, in particular, would be too pleased to have someone with her 24/7.”

Namlah crossed his arms over his chest. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. “What about Slimane’s murder in Flint?”

“What about it?” The aggression in Fred’s voice was unambiguous; he didn’t want another problem added to the list. He sat up and brought his ample frame closer to the desk, and extended his forearms across it. He looked as if he were ready to pounce on the lawyer.

“Are we sure Samuel is the perpetrator of that crime?”

“Fairly sure,” Fred said, reclining in the seat once again. “According to Mark, Samuel told them that’s where he was going when they were driving through Georgia...”

“But we haven’t gotten any evidence that Samuel was in fact the one who pulled the trigger, do we?”

“No, we don’t, but Sadir has proofs, or so he said at the time.”

“Ha-ha, there you have it, Chief, that’s why Sadir was taken out so quickly. Mossad didn’t want him to divulge that information to anyone.”

“I can see that, yes, but Samuel is not to be tried in the States, is he?”

“No, but the CIA is not a bunch of ignoramuses either. Since we’ve made a move on Samuel, they’ve kept an eye on Sadir—if they hadn’t already—and decided he was an abetting party to this crime. I’d say they’re looking for evidence inculpating Samuel at this very minute.”

“And what are they going to do with this evidence when they find it?” Fred was getting irritated.

“They are probably going to use it to get Samuel across the border to stand trial for murder.”

“You mean we’ll have to fight for ‘who’s on first’? I don’t like it, Counsellor, not at all!”

Fred got up, went around his desk, and hands in his trousers’ pockets, walked to the window. He didn’t want to look at the lawyer. He knew the man was right, but this whole thing was quickly turning into a morass of conjectures and possibilities from which he couldn’t see an issue. He turned around, rested his back against the windowsill and crossed his big arms over his chest.

Namlah had remained silent, watching the Chief, but now he spoke. “You may not like it, but the murder in Flint occurring before Ms Kartz being shot; they may want to exercise their right of priority at prosecution of the accused.”

“And if they do, and succeed in putting the guy behind bars for life, we’ll never see him here, is that it?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“I hate to repeat myself, Counsellor, but what do we do about it?” Fred glared at the attorney. This was getting the two men nowhere near a decision.

When Samuel sat down, opened his laptop and read the latest of Mossad’s coded message, he couldn’t stop staring at it. He was well versed in decoding these emails but this one was not only unexpected, but also startling in itself. It read:

Son,

Your uncle’s gone and your aunt needs some looking after. The family is waiting for your arrival. Dad.

Uncle’s gone
meant Sadir was out of the picture, maybe dead.
Your aunt needs looking after
meant Samuel was to go to Vancouver to
look after
Talya.
The family is waiting for your arrival
meant that there was a warrant out for his arrest. Samuel got up and began pacing the length of his room. He was glad he hadn’t rented the flat overlooking the Yarra yet. This message meant he needed to go back to Vancouver. That’s what he couldn’t understand. Why would they want him to go to Talya? It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t surprised that Sadir had been
removed
. He was a fat blabbermouth anyway, Samuel told himself. The warrant for his arrest was no surprise either, but to ask him to return to Vancouver was the one part of the message he couldn’t accept as a wise move.

He sat down again and wrote a reply.

Dad, I will be on English Bay soon. What does aunt need? Your son.

The answer was only five words’ long.

Come back to the fold.

Samuel shook his head.
What would they want from her?
He was at a loss for an answer. Talya was never going to accept to return to Israel, let alone become a Mossad informant or agent. That was ludicrous. To ask him to get her
back to the fold
was unthinkable. Yet, now was not the time to ask for an explanation. The Aussies and the Canadians were probably on his tail right now. He had to move and the quicker the better.

He packed his bags, got down to the lobby and checked out. His first stop was at a motel near the Melbourne airport. The flight was not leaving for a few hours. He had time to change his appearance again. Once ready, he drove his car in the long-term parking lot and left it there. He got on the shuttle to the Japan Airlines’ departure level and bought a ticket to New Zealand. He used his Canadian identity—passport, driver’s license, and another credit card—to book his flight and pay for it.

When he passed through the security gates, he was dressed in jeans, blouson jacket over an open-neck shirt and his baldhead together with his clean-shaven face made him unrecognizable to anyone who had met him in the past months. He passed through customs, and went to sit in the first-class lounge.

All the while, he kept thinking about the strange message. He could not find an answer to the question as to what Mossad wanted with Talya. The only plausible reason was if Talya were to accept to join his ranks—which was highly improbable—she wouldn’t be able to testify at his trial if he were ever arrested. He shook his head. “Unbelievable” was the word that came back to mind repeatedly.