The Devil's Handshake (21 page)

Placed as an associate in a top bank in New
York to build his creditability, Reza had waited for two years for
his chance to enter the field once he had completed his training.
That opportunity came when his controller asked him to apply for a
job in Dubai at a small boutique private bank.

To many of his friends and colleagues, they
just couldn’t understand why Reza would want to give up an
incredible job with one of the best banks in the world to join one
with a questionable reputation in the “fool’s paradise” of
Dubai.

Neither did the recruiting agent who was over
the moon when Reza had applied, bearing in mind his other
candidates and as such, it was no surprise when the local bank
immediately offered him the job.

To maintain his production and to keep his
questionable bosses happy and thereby override any suspicions as to
his real motives, Langley provided him with one hundred million
U.S. dollars in ‘Ops’ accounts that he handled on their behalf as
part of his day job for funding agents, sources and clandestine
operations as when needed around the world.

Although his role mostly consisted of
harvesting information on accounts of questionable persons or
organizations around the region and Africa it was a role he was
immensely proud of.

Sitting in the Regal Palace nightclub in
downtown Dubai with a couple of Russian whores and one of his
questionable clients from Uzbekistan, he felt his Blackberry hum
and buzz.

Pulling it out of his pocket seeing the
message was from Ali Mansoor, he responded with a confirmation that
he could meet with him in two days’ time when, in fact, he was
saying he would call him on his CODEX phone in the morning as part
of their pre-arranged routine before picking up his drink and
toasting his Uzbek client’s health.

15

Borama

Wasir Osman Hassan stood lost in his thoughts
waiting in the VIP waiting room in the new terminal at Aden Isaaq
International Airport in Borama as he watched his guest arrive from
Dubai on in his private jet.

With the landing strip now operational and
able to land aircraft of the size of an Airbus A300 and Boeing 737,
he inwardly reflected that until the Englishman’s group had built
this new runway, the city, served only by a small dirt runway,
would never have investors like this arriving keen to explore the
opportunities his country offered.

When his Iranian banker from Dubai rang him
yesterday and asked whether he could look after a major Indian
client and his team who were arriving today looking to invest in
natural resources in Awdalland, the ex-pirate had immediately
jumped at the chance.

“
Of course Reza, I would be
delighted to host and assist them in any way,” he had said,
mentally rubbing his hands in glee.

“
You’re most kind,
Minister,” Reza had replied. “Mr. Singh is a powerful man, worth
well over a billion U.S. dollars and is very keen to have good
relationships with a partner…how do you say?” he paused for effect.
“That understands the ways of Africa.”

A carrot that said everything as far as Wasir
was concerned.

“
I understand, Mr. Reza,”
Wasir had replied.

“
Excellent, Minister, I
think you will both get on well together,” The banker had warmly
said before sending him the flight details.

For Wasir, this visit represented a unique
opportunity to build his own international network away from the
grip of the Russians who had been flooding into the country.

Experience told him that the minute work
began to build the port to take large containers ships and naval
ships, the President’s grip over the tribes would be complete and
with the President’s Russian Military advisers at his side the end
result would be the erosion of his influence. Something he was
determined to prevent.

What the former pirate didn’t know was that
the billionaire that Reza had arranged for him to meet was, in
fact, a forty-eight year-old British-born and educated Sikh SAD
Operative from Austin, Texas called Navjot Sidhu, known in the
diamond trade by his alias, Gouramangi Singh.

When the world of the Internet and mobile
communications started to make it harder to create and protect its
assets’ cover identities, SAD recognized they needed to become more
robust and charismatic to enable them to fit into the money
laundering world of the terrorists. That meant the operatives
needed to have genuine operations and not just on paper.

To solve the problem they created legitimate
private equity houses in New York and London as fronts with a brief
to invest and set up physical companies engaged in their foes’
traditional areas of operations, like banking, gem trading, and
foreign exchange shops.

For last ten years, the GSG Company and
Navjot’s aliases had been painstakingly established through the
smart use of sponsorships and carefully placed media management to
create his persona into a successful billionaire British-Indian
diamond retailer based in London, Mumbai, Dubai, and Antwerp. The
alias originally developed for catching terrorists, Mr. Singh’s
latest role was now to be used for something completely
different.

16

Washington D.C

Five days ago when Ali had briefed Navjot at
a diner near his house why the mission was taking place, Navjot,
like the rest of the team at SAD, thought the Director had lost the
plot. For although he had used his various identities over the last
ten years to trap and take down numerous terrorist operations since
joining the service, this was to be the first time one would be
used in an old-style covert operation designed to disable a major
business investment in another country. It was something as he
listened Navjot found he wasn’t entirely comfortable with
either.

“
Jesus he’s only been in the
job a couple of months!” Navjot had said to Ali, referring to the
director’s unspoken crusade and rapid dislike of anything
Putin.

“
It’s got a Presidential
Authorization,” Ali had replied as he drank his coffee.

“
So this State led?” Navjot
had referred to the State Department as he continued to shake his
head in disbelief. “Are they really that pissed off at them over
Syria and Ukraine? I mean it’s going to take years for the Russians
to build the damned port!” He had countered having been told by Ali
the deal needed to be scuttled as soon as possible.

“
I know, but the Director
convinced the Administration that if the Russians gained a foothold
in this country less than hundred and twenty miles away from
Djibouti then we will be facing a potential flood of other nations
around the world inviting in the Russians as a security buffer
right under our noses and we will be back in the Cold War again,”
Ali had answered.

“
Essentially what you’re
saying is he is advising, via the Langley hawks, that if we don’t
do something then we’re facing another Cuba or Ukraine situation
with the Russians sticking it to us again only this time in
Africa,” Navjot had responded with his own internal analysis on the
‘Clear Present and Danger’ recommendation touted by his ass-kissing
colleagues to their Commander–in-Chief who had, to his utter
disbelief, had approved it. “Except this time there are no evil
Reds under the bed to fall back on, and our interference makes us
look like the bad guy if we get caught!” Navjot had offered,
considering the worst-case scenario as an additional supporting
argument to his objections.

“
It going to take at least
three months, you know!” he had said finally signaling his
acceptance of his job by a further shake his head resigned to the
fact that as nobody was going to be interested in what Ali or him
had to say anyway, it was pointless to go on about it and just get
on with the work.

“
Well, you’d better get
going,” Ali had countered relieved that his experienced officer had
now accepted his job if somewhat reluctantly.

He knew his friend had been receiving
counseling. The mental scars of recent operations mixed with the
fact that his wife was making noises about him retiring from
fieldwork were taking its toll on his best agent. Unfortunately,
the fact was Ali needed him because the SAD had very few field
agents with his natural resources related experience to hit ground
running for this new operation.

“
Reza will be setting up a
meeting with the Chief of the Interior Ministry in three days’ time
in Borama for you,” he had added.

“
What’s his background?”
Navjot had asked due to the fact that he hadn’t read the briefing
file yet that was waiting for him back at the office because he had
been on leave in an effort to save his marriage and get his head
back in order.

“
Ex-pirate, slavery,
prostitution, and murder,” Ali had simply stated.

“
Sounds peachy!” Navjot had
said just as the waitress delivered their eggs.

As the young lady placed the breakfast on the
table, Navjot had wondered how he was going to tell his wife Lori
that he was about to go back on operations again. It was a prospect
he wasn’t looking forward to.

17

Borama

“
Minister, it is a fabulous
pleasure to meet you,” Navjot offered in a crisp educated British
accent as he proffered his hand having been taken into the lounge
by the ex-pirate’s entourage to meet him.

“
Welcome to my country, Mr.
Singh, we are extremely honored to have you here,” Wasir replied,
taking the Indian’s hand in the process.

“
Our mutual friend Reza
speaks very highly of you,” the ex-pirate continued as he gestured
to a young boy to give the party welcome juices and
teas.

“
Likewise, Minister. And may
I say I am particularly looking forward to exploring the
opportunities your country has to offer,” Navjot said politely,
acknowledging the small talk.

“
My team will take you to my
hotel so you can rest,” stated Wasir with authority. “Then I
suggest that we meet for dinner this evening?” he offered or
ordered, depending on an observer’s point of view.

“
Why that sounds wonderful!”
replied the billionaire businessman with a beaming smile as he took
a glass of Mango juice.

18

Washington D.C.

Back in Washington three days later, Navjot
and his team sat down to debrief Ali in the Cube.

As Wasir Osman Hassan’s face appeared on the
screen, Navjot commenced the briefing.

“
The baseline with Hassan is
now in place. Over the next two months, we will court him, increase
his profile and allow him the opportunity to ‘step up’ in the
tribal politics by offering a deal as a counterpoint to the Russian
influence in the country,” he said and then continued. “He is
purely motivated by money and power despite the promotion of
himself as a trusted militia leader to the Clan chiefs.”

“
Our assessment of him is he
only did this to eradicate rival pirate competitors despite him
saying he did it to counter the growth of Al Shaahab Islamists in
line with the wishes of tribal elders,” he said before pausing for
a moment while one of the team changed the PowerPoint slide, he
then pressed on.

“
Since giving up piracy he
has used his wealth to take control of money lending, Hawala,
general trading, prostitution, and slavery in Adwalland, ruthlessly
taking out any competitors in the process.” Again Navjot paused for
the next slide, which showed an organization chart.

“
Using his wealth as a tool
enables him to recruit former pirates from all the Clans then with
their placement into the Interior Ministry he ensures their loyalty
by providing members of his Clan with loans or equipment to make
money themselves, much in the same way a classic Mafia Mob boss
does. In so doing he successfully took them outside their
traditional Clans.”

“
This means he has created
in effect his own Clan?” Ali offered.

“
Yes,” answered
Navjot.

“
Don Osman doesn’t have the
same ring though!” thought Ali silently as Navjot continued to
brief him on his various family connections and their organization
within his Clan.

Inwardly Ali was pleased that their initial
synopsis of the Minister was proving correct because until Navjot’s
team met him they had no intelligence on the ground in Adwalland to
give them a full profile, only the bullshit peddled by Somalis from
Mogadishu.

The next PowerPoint slide arrived with a pie
chart.

“
In terms of assets, Reza
advises he currently holds approximately ten million U.S. dollars
in cash assets in Dubai with him at the bank and a number of
properties including a large villa in the salubrious Emirates Hills
area of Dubai.”

“
In Adwalland, Wasir owns a
hotel and offices that are rented out to NGOs; An exchange shop, a
couple of Petrol Stations, a fleet of tanker trucks all rented out
to members of his Clan, and an IL-76 cargo plane which is owned in
partnership with a Turkmen based in Dubai.”

“
On the coast, he owns a
fleet of about hundred fishing boats all conversions from his
pirate days when the Pirates would rent the boats from him for a
share of the spoils and finally a fish cannery that exports through
Mogadishu onto Jebel Ali in Dubai then onwards to Iran.” Navjot
briefed as he explained the charts.

“
This explains,
incidentally, why he survived the international efforts to round up
the pirate leaders and how he stayed under the radar,” Ali offered
with his own review.