The Puppetmasters (15 page)

Kendall was lifting makeshift weights when Rashid hurried into the facility. He had routinely left Kendall for short periods of time during the day when he had to run his errands, e.g., checking on Carson and Fields, contacting his Mossad counterparts, and having the occasional meal or tea with the Shazeb family. President Shazeb and his sons had left Kendall alone, as they were concerned she might carry the same sickness as Carson. They certainly did not want their families contracting any illness, even though they had been told it was only malaria. They were no longer anxious to be near her, and they thought Rashid was the most loyal of servants to agree to look in on her, and see that her needs were met. Truth be told, they were apprehensive of being near Rashid too, as they felt he could be a carrier by virtue of his daily contact with the Orion people. Rashid found it both amusing and maddening. In his opinion, these people were small-minded and ignorant. Well, it worked in his favor. He could spend more time with the Orion people, putting his plan into place, and less time in the presence of the Shazebs. It actually worked perfectly on both ends.

Rashid walked up to Kendall and handed her a bottle of water. He grinned. “I have good news.”

“Wonderful! Tell me that I’m getting out of here.”

His eyes twinkled and he gave a playful shrug. “Sorry. It’s not that good. My sources tell me the Orion people and the U.S. government agencies know you are part of the missing group. In fact, it’s front page news. Also, your mother has been assured that everything is being done to locate you, and your neighbor is picking up your mail.”

“Wonderful! Now, when do we get out of here?”

“Not so fast, Kendall. Also, $10,000 has been deposited into your checking account.” He wrinkled up his nose and said, “I don’t see how that is going to help you, because you aren’t home to make any payments.”

She grinned. “Oh, I’m much more technical than that. I don’t write checks any more. My bank account is set up to automatically pay certain bills periodically. I just need to make sure there is enough money in the account to do that. For instance, in a couple weeks, my annual car payment and homeowner’s insurance are due. Those are lump sums and usually run close to fifteen hundred dollars. Normally, I would move money around from one account to another, but now that you have deposited funds, the payments will be made, and all will be well.”

She felt immense relief at his news, particularly knowing that people knew that she was with the missing Orion executives and that her mother was doing okay.

Rashid couldn’t look her in the eyes. He felt like such a louse for not telling her about her mother’s heart attack, Glenn Carson’s being at death’s door, and that the Orion people and the U.S. government thought she was part of the master plot against the executives.

He grabbed her arm. “Let’s have something to eat, and then let’s do some target practice. I want you to be a fairly good marksman by the end of the week. We are going to step up your training in that area, until you get it right.”

She searched his eyes, detecting a change. There was something disquieting about his demeanor. “What’s wrong? Has something changed?”

He looked down and stuttered, “N-N-No, I just want you to get better at holding and shooting a gun.”

“You are a lousy liar. What’s going on, Rashid?”

In search of something to fill in his reticence at all the missing details, he blurted out, “I’ve got Fields in the loop. He’s agreed to help. I’m kind of nervous about him. He seems a bit odd. Can we count on him?”

“For what?”

“To keep his head! If he blows this, we’re all dead.”

“He’s a really smart guy. And he wants to go home. I’m sure he would do just about anything right now to get out of here.”

“I’m just saying that he’d better come through for us. A lot depends on him doing his part.”

They had a quick meal and then worked on Kendall’s shooting skills. She hated the rifle; it was heavy and loud. The discharge was deafening and she felt it to her core. They didn’t have the luxury of ear plugs, and she figured she would surely be deaf by the time she got home. She was a decent shot when lying prone during sniping rounds. Her shots were accurate, and she liked that after firing, the rest of her body absorbed the recoil. When she stood, the rifle was awkward and she instinctively pushed the butt of the gun away from her cheek. That caused her a lot of pain when the butt jumped to her bicep and left a noticeable bruise. It took her several days to finally learn the proper cheek weld. She was relieved to find that when she held the gun tight to her cheek, her shoulder pocket could easily absorb the shock of the rifle discharging a round.

They practiced stress firing outdoors, where Kendall would run a ways and then stop and shoot immediately. She learned the art of compensating for twitching muscles. She had never been so aware of each breath she took. She felt uncoordinated and could only imagine how bad her technique was.

She really liked the handgun … mostly because it was not a rifle. She felt like she had more control. It was smaller and easier to hold. The clip was easy to load and ram into place. It was so much lighter than the rifle and easier to conceal. She would rather have carried just one or two handguns. But Rashid insisted she learn the art of sniping. She had no idea how she was going to carry all these weapons. For that matter, she wondered if she would survive the whole escape ordeal once it went down.

When Rashid brought Kendall back to the military compound, he pulled a folded khaki military field bag from under his jacket. It was ringed with side pockets for spare ammo. “Let’s look at your things. This bag needs to be ready at a moment’s notice.”

Kendall was mortified when he started pawing through her personal belongings. She was near tears as he discarded one item after another that she considered a necessity. “Can’t I at least have a toothbrush or hairbrush?”

“No. Hopefully, we won’t be in an isolated predicament for very long. We’ll rendezvous with my counterparts as soon as we can. You just need to be dry and warm or cool … depending on the weather. We will mostly be carrying food, water, and weapons. If it helps, my bag will be larger.”

Kendall was now terrified at the rash act on which they were about to embark. In a similar vein, although Rashid tried to be optimistic, in reality he was beyond fearful. Kendall was obviously not an athlete and uncomfortable around weapons of any kind. The only thing she had going for her was that she was loyal and would take direction. He didn’t have to worry about her turning the gun on him. He was her only Afghan ally, and she would stick with him to the end … for her own preservation. She was just petrified enough not to start thinking on her own.

Rashid had not counted on the added Orion element. He could only surmise that it was a gift from the Divine. His mother had taught him that a devout Jew must participate in repairing the world by being a part of
tzedakah
… justice. She also said that Christians believed that, if it is God’s will, then the mission will succeed.

Rashid sighed and refused to worry about it any longer. He did not believe in rash acts and martyrdom. For this situation, he had thought things through and planned and organized the Shazeb downfall, rendering inoperable the Afghan infrastructure, and getting the hostages out of Afghan. There was nothing left to do except choose the moment.

But he had not been honest with Kendall. What he had in mind for her could get her killed. In fact, it would most likely get her killed. The probability of her survival had to be very small. But that couldn’t be helped. In the overall scheme of things, he needed a backup … someone he could count on to look over his shoulder and be his “second.” She certainly wouldn’t be his choice in
terms of physical and military abilities, but she was smart and he knew she wouldn’t fall apart under the stress.

Now, Rashid just needed to light the match of rebellion and watch the flickering sparks ignite.

T
HE YOUNG
M
OSSAD
A
GENT
S
HANE
Menard was bent over reviewing the newest information streaming courtesy of
Prophecy.
He had just finished doing the same with the info pouring out of the Pentagon in Washington, DC. He frowned. This was not good. Things were heating up in DC, and Israel needed to make a decision. They were close to their final operation and could not afford to have DC interfere or thwart their plans. They had worked too hard on this long investigation that had been years in the making. Nothing would get in the way of the mission. That meant they needed to take action … and now!

He stormed into the director’s office and waved the latest downloads at him. There was tension in his voice. “Benjamin, you’ve got to see this! It’s happened. The Americans know we’re associated with the Orion kidnapping. They just don’t know in what way.”

Benjamin Zimmerman slowly reviewed the information and then sat back in his squeaky chair. “We knew this day was close. It’s time to put the diversion into effect.” He consulted his watch and declared there would be a meeting of the team in sixty minutes. All available traveling agents were to be linked in via satellite. He got out a sheet of paper and scribbled the pros and cons. He was about to provide the U.S. Intelligence agencies with a red herring that he hoped would keep them busy for a day or two.

While the pros-and-cons exercise seemed elementary, it helped Director Zimmerman zero in on the viable options and fairly quickly discount the foolish, unwise ones.

Six agents sat around the conference table while four more traveling agents were linked in by satellite to the private, secure Mossad network. Two more agents in the field were connected via their cell phones and a reverse link to the base center in Israel. The customized scrambling software was automatically running, and the routine check for unauthorized eyes and ears had been deployed.

In Afghanistan, Rashid felt the gentle pulse emanating from his father’s silver
tribal ring that he wore on the middle finger of his left hand. The ring was inlaid with green malachite. It had been modified and customized by Israeli scientists. Thick veins of fiber-optic wire posed as silver. The wire delivered a subtle throb when communication by his counterparts was desired. Any unauthorized wearer of the ring would feel nothing if communication was attempted by the Mossad. The technology had included a biometric element, and it only recognized Rashid’s middle finger.

He went directly to one of his safe, isolated places and found a text message in Hebrew on his hidden cell phone about the conference call.

He established the secure link to the requested Mossad conference call precisely on time and used a tiny wireless, colorless earpiece. He hid the cell phone on one of the corner beams that made up the roof of a nearby sheep shed and stuffed dry grass around it. He peered out through a small opening between wooden slats and could see anything approaching within a mile. Because the microphone was supercharged, Rashid could stand across the room and still be heard. He usually checked both sides of the hut when he was “in conference.”

In the past week, he had emergency, unplanned “conferences” every other day. He knew that was pushing the limit. If this whole mission was not brought under control, a slip-up would occur and then they would all be exposed. There was far too much scurrying around and too many back-up plans being considered. It was all due to the Orion people’s being kidnapped. The fact that one of them was gravely ill only added to the imminent danger and uncertainty. Rashid absentmindedly adjusted the leather straps on his knife sheath.

Mossad Director Benjamin Zimmerman entered the conference room and consulted his watch. The atmosphere was tense but quiet. “Let’s get started, people. The Americans know about the money deposited into Kendall Radcliffe’s account. We knew it was risky when we made it, and we knew it would only buy us a few days. That’s exactly what it did … bought us a few days. But it was the only way to secure Radcliffe’s help and get her to believe us. She’s now on board, thanks to Rashid’s quick thinking. Let’s move on to the next step.”

He looked around the room and then at the split screen of faces. “U.S. intelligence is about to contact us and demand an explanation. This is what we’re going to do. I will contact my friend at the CIA and tell him that we’ve paid a small sum of money for information involving an important operation we have been working on for some time. If they press further, I will reluctantly reveal that it involves large scale drug smuggling.” He looked around the room and continued, “It cannot be helped, but unfortunately it will look like this Kendall Radcliffe is involved.”

A spurt of static sounded over the wires. Rashid reacted. “You cannot do this! It will make her look bad and will surely get her killed. Plus, it will damage
her reputation and she could lose her job and even be accused of treason! What are you thinking? This is going too far!”

Director Zimmerman furiously spat out, “Enough! Agent Sharif, you have lost your focus. Don’t tell me that you have feelings for her? You are a professional and a high-ranking member of the Mossad … the most elite intelligence agency in the world! You are dangerously close to throwing it all away for nothing more than sentiment. Have you not been taught to look at the big picture? I have seen you destroy families in the name of the ultimate goal. What is it called? Right! Collateral damage. That is what Ms. Radcliffe will be. It cannot be helped. She and her Orion bosses have unfortunately landed right in the middle of our mission. In order to save that mission, we need to throw them to the wolves. Or at least throw her to the wolves.”