Motherland Page 11

  Connor sat on the private jet and stared out the window, returning to the present and pondering the last week of his life as he remembered the oligarch’s comments.

  But what of the weapon? He was intrigued with the idea of investigating it further, for the world’s sake! Who would be after such a capability? The Shia theocracy of Iran supported the Islamic State in Egypt, or when ISIS terror furthered their own agenda, but opposed them in Syria, where the Shia, Sunni civil war raged. Iran was also supporting Hamas in the Israeli territories, sheltering ISIS commanders in Gaza from the Egyptians wrath. I’m sure Iran would love to get hold of this technology. That’s why they did this to me. A weapon that could target a specific race or person; obviously they want to kill all the Jews. They somehow found out about the crash in Alaska. But how? They must have been following this trail for quite some time and also have friends in some very high places, American places.

  This would finally enable them to destroy Israel completely. The world cannot let that happen. Nor can it be allowed to fall into other evil hands. They got very close through me. It is my duty to stop them. I must find out where Anatoly is. I must stop this weapon from getting into the wrong hands. No one knows where I am right now. I am the perfect rogue agent if you will. And, rogue agents can be dangerous.

  Connor looked at Sofiya. She was quietly typing on her laptop, connected to the plane’s WI-FI. She’s definitely more than a ballet dancer or a mistress. She’s a fixer, for Vasilovich. She knows much more than she lets on. I’m sure her looks open many doors that he may not be able to.

  “What are you doing?” Connor asked after he stared at her for a while .

  Sofiya looked up and noticed he was focused on her at the moment. He thought he detected a slight blush. “I’m contacting some of our clients. I communicate a great deal for Vasili. He is a very busy man and trusts me completely to do certain things.”

  “I’m no expert, but I noticed your accent is slightly different than most Russians I have heard. Where are you from?”

  “Aaah, most astute of you Mr. Murray. I am actually Ukrainian. It gives me an edge in dealing with both sides in the conflict, war, whatever you want to call it in Donbass. Many of my people are dying there. I guess you could consider me a half-breed, Russian and Ukrainian. So I can see both sides.”

  “Interesting,” said Connor. “Who do you think abducted Anatoly?”

  This time he could see her face darken. “I don’t know. It was very disturbing that this could happen under our very noses. Our friends in Israel are very worried about who now has access to this research and technology.” Sofiya smiled at the look on Connor’s face. “Yes, I am Jewish as well. I’m a member of the tribe, the diaspora. I am a friend of Israel, as are many Russians. Does that surprise you?”

  “Nothing surprises me now after the last couple weeks.” Suddenly Connor felt a wave of fatigue wash over him as his body took account of the last several days stressful occurrences and forced him to shut down for repairs. He drifted off to sleep.

  The Iranian, Ahmed, was now sure the operation was dead. Of Murray’s situation and whereabouts, he had no idea; he was not getting contact with any of the tracking devices they had installed. It was time to close off the loose ends. He pulled the small remote control device from his pocket and entered a detailed code to start the sequence to activate the poison he thought was still in Connor’s arm. There, that’s finished, he thought as the confirmation appeared on the screen. At least he won’t be able to talk if he was still alive. In any event, he’ll be dead soon. We came close to the heart of the weapons project but now once again we have hit a dead end. However, at least we have confirmation it exists and that the Russians are working on such a weapon. Now we have to develop a plan to find out more. We have made much progress, but, there is much more to be done. The Iranian operative threw the remote control device on his desk in Tehran, sat back in his chair, and closed his eyes to think. But how do we find out more?

  President Chahine sat again at his desk in the Oval Office, alone, deep in thought. The ‘peace process’ negotiations were going as planned. Extreme pressure was being brought to bear on the Jewish State. Even the Europeans were starting to ban Jewish goods. The Israeli economy would soon collapse under the weight of new sanctions being planned by the United Nations and the European Union. The narrative that everything was Israel’s fault as the rockets rained down from Gaza was working quite well. His friends in the media did their propaganda job with panache. The U.S. would abstain and the U.N. would let the vote move forward, all the while deploring their former ally’s actions. He would see to that. Israel could not last much longer.

  The phone on his desk buzzed. He glanced at the red flashing light. His assistant wanted his attention. The president debated breaking his concentration. It was when he was alone and had time to think that he made progress with his plans. He felt the past weigh on his shoulders. All of the Muslims who had been killed by the Crusaders, the Europeans, the Jews. I will avenge them.

  President Chahine picked up the phone and spoke quietly, “Yes?”

  “Sir, the Iranian Supreme Leader is on the line. It is an unscheduled communication. Do you wish to take the call?”

  The president thought about it, then said, “I do. Put him through.”

  A few seconds later he heard the line connect, an older man speak in Farsi, and the interpreter on the other end of the line began to translate the Leader’s words.

  “Mr. President. I wanted to thank you for arranging our situation with the Jewish pigs. We will continue to apply pressure in the occupied territories, with our foreign fighters, Hezbollah, and with our allies in the Assad regime. The Russians will turn a blind eye. They don’t care about an American ally, even if there are many Russian citizens there. They bombed their own soldiers and civilians in the war against the Nazis when it was in their interest to do so. So, we are moving forward, everything is going according to our plans. The Russian weapons are arriving in force. Soon we will be in a position to act. Israel cannot do anything now. The Iranian Islamic Republic is too strong. We await your word, my Sultan to launch the attack! Islam will bathe in glory and we will have our revenge! Allahu Akbar!”

  President Chahine hung up the phone without saying a word. He sat back and smiled. It was time again to pray.

  The Russian S-400 weapon systems were now being delivered to Iran in force. The range of this sophisticated anti-aircraft missile system had been increased to well over 400 km. The radar element could track and engage multiple targets from very low to very high altitude. The Iranian Supreme Leader was right when he bragged that Israel was now prevented from stopping the Iranian Islamic Republic from going nuclear in a very short period of time. Israel simply did not have the firepower or the technology to penetrate this integrated air defense system. The Americans had been slow about delivering the F-35s the IAF had ordered. It was on purpose of course. The Sultan could not allow this capability to be delivered to the Jewish State. He had to destroy Israel first.

  The Israeli prime minister listened to the briefing from his national security staff deep in the secure bunker in Tel Aviv. It was a depressing afternoon. His options were extremely limited. His choices now simply consisted of going to war immediately and hoping for the best under very bad circumstances, or allowing the Iranians to get stronger and stronger. With every missile system delivery, every Iranian pilot that was trained in Moscow, every Sukhoi that was delivered to Tehran, Iran became that much stronger. Time was not on Israel’s side.

  Hezbollah was preparing for another assault on northern Israel and the Golan. That was obvious from the intelligence gathered recently. Hamas was stirring up another Intifada in the territories. Scores of rockets were landing on Israeli towns every day from Gaza. What really concerned the prime minister were reports of Iranian troop and missile battery units deploying into now Shia controlled Iraq.

  The noose was tightening. I have to act soon.

  Chapter Th
irteen

  Vasilovich’s jet landed at Chisinau and was directed to a secure hanger away from the public terminal. The building was old and there were carcasses of ancient Soviet era aircraft parked nearby, decaying in the hot sun. Sofiya and Connor deplaned and were rushed through immigration and customs with no problems. It’s nice to be important. I could get used to this, Connor thought.

  He was relieved. Although he had been provided with new documents and identification, and money, he still did not feel quite comfortable with his new found friends. However, at this point, he could not quibble with the situation. He had to take what he was given and make the best of it. That meant trusting Sofiya and Vasili, at least to a certain point. They want something. Or, they would not be helping me out as they are doing. They probably want to find Anatoly as much as I do. After all, he was the brains behind their bio weapons program.

  The two of them were put in the back of another black SUV and again sped away from the airport with bodyguards in tow. Here we go again. They drove for thirty minutes through the gauntlet of old Soviet high rise dwellings and soon were in the center of town. The old Soviet cities almost all look the same, thought Connor as they pulled up in front of a restaurant which occupied the bottom floor of a structure that was at least a hundred years old. Connor and Sofiya were led by the guards to an upstairs private dining room. Upon reaching the upper floor, one of the guards opened the door to the space and then both of the bodyguards stood by the opening, guarding the entrance. Connor walked in.

  “Connor!” he heard his good friend yell. Peter jumped up from one of the tables and bounded over to give him a bear hug that embarrassed him somewhat. However, he was glad to see Peter as well, and returned the embrace. “It’s good to see you alive my friend!” Peter exclaimed. “Very good to know you’re okay!”

  “I’m glad I’m alive myself, Peter!” said Connor rather sheepishly. He hadn’t thought about all the pain his loved ones and friends must have been going through. “I need to call Natasha!” Connor blurted out.

  “Of course,” Peter stammered and reached for his phone, dialed and handed the phone to Connor.”

  “You can go in here,” one of the body guards said and pointed to another, smaller dining room off the main area. Connor took the phone and walked into the smaller room and closed the door behind him. There was no other way out.

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “Hi Babe, it’s me,” Connor said softly. “I miss you!”

  Connor could hear Natasha gasp on the other end of the line. “Connor! Is that you?”

  “Yes, babe! It’s me! I’m okay, alive, breathing. I’m okay!”

  “Oh Connor…” Natasha broke down on the phone.

  “Baby, it’s going to be alright.”

  “Enough!” demanded the bodyguard. Connor turned to see the large man holding his hand out for the phone. “Too many people are listening here. You need to end the call now!” he said in rather good English.

  Connor looked at him in shock but then realized he was right.

  “Natasha, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you again very soon. I’m okay and I’ll be home before you know it. I love you! Bye, my love.” He hung up the call and handed back the phone to the large man in the black suit.

  Connor walked back in the larger room and locked eyes with Sofiya. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on here Sofiya? I think I deserve to know.” Then he turned to face Peter. “How did you get here?”

  “I found out you were here but was a few days behind you. I ran into your Russian friend, Vitali. However, he met an untimely death, right in front of my eyes. I was scared and on the run, laying low. I called you with his phone, but obviously you couldn’t talk. Then somewhat later I was contacted by Sofiya. She arranged for someone to pick me up and bring me here. I did not know you would be here. I didn’t know what the hell was going on with you! All I was told was that I was to find out some information about your whereabouts from a friend. That is all. So, I took a chance. I had to do something. Then you walked in the fucking door! This is all a little bit too much James fucking Bond for my taste. It seems to follow you like a black cloud my friend. So, I’d love to know what’s been going on with you. And, so would our friends back in Tel Aviv.”

  “No one will be learning of your situation or whereabouts just yet,” said a female voice as Sofiya chimed into the conversation. “Yes, we need to talk Connor,” she added as she looked back at Connor and locked eyes. “No one knows the two of you are here. The Mossad may have an idea, but they do not know for sure of your whereabouts. Yes, they are our friends but we do not work for them. We work for Vasili, who works for Russia but also works for himself. The FSB does not know you are here.” She let that sink in for a minute, looked around at everyone in the room, and then resumed talking.

  “We need to find out where Anatoly is. We have an idea. But, we want your help.” She turned again to Connor. “We have helped you when you should have been shot as a spy. You owe us. You owe Russia. Russia did nothing but help you, not harm you.”

  “What could you possibly want from us that you don’t already have?” asked Connor.

  “You are not Russian. You are American, Israeli, whatever you choose to be. You have a natural cover. You can be useful. We have an idea of where Anatoly is. However, we need someone who is not going to be suspect to help us close in on his location and bring him back to Russia.”

  “Why would I help Russia finish development of this terrible weapon?”

  “Because we will be responsible with it. You are very aware of the alternative. The people who just did this to you cannot be allowed to access the technology. There are also many other groups who want this bio weapon. They must be stopped. We are somewhat friendly with Iran but do not trust them, nor anyone else in the Middle East. And they do not trust us. We only trust Russia. We did not know about this little stunt they were pulling to try and find out more about our research. Now we know their true intentions and agenda. Anatoly must be found and brought back to Russia. Mr. Murray, you can help save the world. You can help save the Motherland, as well as your own country. You will be compensated believe me. Think it over Connor, you as well, Peter.”

  Connor pondered everything for a second as the wheels turned in his head. Then a light flashed in his eyes. “Why were you in the same cabin on the train with me Sofiya?” he asked suddenly.

  She smiled. “Because we knew you were coming. We wanted to make contact. We did not know your situation but we had been following you since you arrived in Provideniya. People notice when an unknown American with a Russian passport arrives out of thin air. You did not think an amateur could operate freely in the former Soviet Union, asking about weapons programs, without raising suspicion did you? We have friends everywhere Connor. We made you tell us what you knew so we could gauge your knowledge level of the situation. But, we already knew who you were. So, yes, I was on the train to meet you.

  A Russian FSB agent here in Chisinau, Sergei, was following you Peter as well, before he was so rudely killed by our old comrade, Vitali. You were running around town like a bull in a China shop, Peter. Someone couldn’t help but notice you.

  “So, you can see why we do not want the Israelis involved. The less anyone outside our team knows about this, the better. Connor, you have told your wife you are alive. That is enough for now. There will be time for more festivities. However, in the short run, you work for us. If you want to leave, you can, right now with no recriminations. However, we will not be able to help you any further. I think in your heart, you know I am right. Our scientist must be found and returned, for the good of mankind.”

  Connor turned and walked towards the window and looked out over the city, lost in thought. The people were busily running around trying to survive, oblivious to the danger brewing around them as the world hurtled towards destruction. He stood there for perhaps a minute, then Sofiya spoke again. “By the way, you should know, they activated the device. The poison was
released safely in our laboratory. If you were not here with us, you would be dead.”

  Connor listened as he stared out into the nothingness of the gray city bustling beneath him. Then suddenly, he turned, walked to the bodyguard, reached out his hand and said, “Give me my phone.”

  The guard looked at Sofiya, she nodded in approval. Connor took the phone and began typing a message, then he hit send and threw the phone over to the chair next to Sofiya. She picked it up and read the text to the Iranian terrorist Ahmed.

  I am alive and I am going to kill you.

  Prime Minister Dahan had a decision to make. Israel was facing an existential threat, possibly the most dangerous one since her founding after World War II. A nuclear armed Iran could ‘wipe Israel off the map’ as it had threatened to do for some time. I am not going to go down in history as the man who failed the Jewish people, not after all we have been through over the millennia.

  It was not that Israel was defenseless. The Jewish State was the first nation to become a nuclear power several decades before but Israel never admitted to that capability. She followed a strict policy of nuclear opacity. In other words, she kept the world guessing. Israel had an arsenal of ground-launched ballistic missiles, submarine-launched missiles, and aircraft-delivered gravity bombs. No Muslim country would be able to touch her in this regard for some time. However, the Russian air defense systems being purchased by the Islamic Republic changed the game altogether. Dahan of course knew this was the Sultan’s plan all along. He prevented and delayed Israel from destroying Iran’s nuclear capability long enough for them to acquire enough funds through his ‘nuclear deal’ to purchase a sophisticated, integrated, air-defense system from Moscow. This umbrella would not totally prevent Israel from attacking Iran with nuclear weapons. However, it could target ballistic missiles and hostile aircraft and would inject into the calculation just enough doubt as to whether a first strike, even nuclear, would be successful enough to prevent Iran from returning nuclear fire. In this sense, the Sultan had accomplished his goal. He had put together a scenario which would allow Israel to be destroyed.