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.