“Good luck Paniz,” he gave her a cold smile, “welcome to the Mossad.”
HE APPROACHED THE RED studded doors. The doorman opened them, he could see the visitor was their type. Wealthy arrogant, it seemed to go with their style. The man with expensive glasses and a short beard slipped him five hundred Rials. The man took the elevator to the roof garden. It was covered with light coloured drapes and laid out with blankets and cushions, woven with geometric designs. The whole roof looked like a Bedouin tent, the man was led to a low couch. He was served coffee and offered a Shisha pipe, but he declined. A younger man dressed in a similar style joined him.
“Haabeel, I hope you are well,” he lowered his head and gestured in a downward motion with his hand, “by the will of Allah.”
“I am, and you?”
“Yes, we have much to talk of.”
The two of them spoke for a time and drank coffee as it was served. A girl approached them, dressed Indian style in a red sari trimmed with gold. Her dark eyes were heavily made up and she wore a gold chain to ruby set in her nose.
Haabeel looked at her, she was gorgeous there was no doubt about that.
“You need time with me Sirs? I give good time to handsome men.” The younger man flicked his hand. “Go. Go Randi.” She gave him a look of disdain, he’d called her a whore. The girl left them alone. Their conversation went on for long minutes.
“Rhaa, we come to matters of importance and of course remuneration. We need to retire to my room.” Rhaa got the check and paid. The two men left in the elevator.
They entered Haabeel’s room.
“Whiskey?” This was frowned on but was common among Tehran’s monied class.
“Yes.” He poured out a tumbler for his guest.
“Haabeel. My clients are not happy with the deal you’ve struck.”
“It’s my job. I serve the masters in this city. You know that.”
Rhaa scowled and waved his hand. If it’s money you want, my organisation’s associates can swim in it if they wish.” Rhaa leaned forward.
“You have influence with your masters and the Eastern savages you work with. Name your price. Name it Haabeel.” He shook his head. Rhaa took some papers and photographs from a shoulder bag.
“Your wife and son. We know where they are, we can make things uncomfortable for them. Very uncomfortable.”
“They are well protected. No Rhaa. I will not do as you ask.” Rhaa smiled.
“Then these could be made public. I know you wouldn’t like that.” He handed the Iranian several more photographs.
Haabeel stared at them and drew breath, his eyes bulged in rage. The pictures were of a pretty young woman naked with two men. She performed oral sex on them both. She smiled as the two of them penetrated her from all angles.
Rhaa spoke quietly.
“It would seem that your daughter has needs. She pleasures them and others, I have video too. They could be released, or you could obtain all the copies to destroy. Do as we ask, and you will possess them and a great deal of money.”
THE ROOM DOOR LOCK clicked twice, the two men looked to the door.
“What?” said Haabeel. The whore from the roof garden in the red sari walked into the room.
“I told you to go Randi, we don’t need the likes of you here, go.”
“That’s a great pity and I was so looking to get to know you,” she spoke in a clipped and perfect English accent. From inside her sari, she pulled out a Barretta. She aimed at Rhaa’s head. Thud, thud. His forehead was holed in two places, the back of his head exploded in blood and grey matter.
She replaced the pistol and sat on the bed.
“Now Haabeel, we have things to discuss.”
“You killed him. Why? Why?”
“I killed him because he works for ISI, the Pakistani intelligence agency.”
“Who do you work for?” She flicked her hand in dismissal.
“Let me tell you what they are up to. You’ll know some of it yourself. They don’t want you to obtain Nuclear weapons. Oh, let me tell you. The ISI doesn’t care one way or the other. Their paymasters the Saudis do care. They care very much. An Iranian bomb is their nightmare, so their clients the Pakistani’s are needed to apply pressure for them. The Saudi’s paid for the Pakistani nukes, so they can’t be ignored. The Pakistani establishment will do anything for them.
So, the Saudi’s call on the ISI to put pressure on you. Threats towards your wife and son. Money, lots of it, and failing that blackmail and shame.
“I haven’t taken their money.”
“No, but there is the shame. That must be hard to take. Seeing Naasiha like that. Sucking cock, taking cock and enjoying it. Then there is the video, you should hear her. Or maybe you shouldn’t?” His face turned a bright angry flush.
“What do you want?”
“I’m here to let you know something, that’s all.” He looked at her in disbelief.
“The Saudi’s know that the pressure the ISI can bring to bear may not be enough. Remember that an Iranian foe armed with nuclear weapons is their nightmare. You owe the North Koreans more money if you are to get the weapons released. They will now plan to deprive you of those funds.”
“The funds are secure.” She smiled.
“This secure.” She held up a paper with the name of the bank, an account number and the password.
Haabeel stared at it with an open mouth.
“Don’t try to move them, it’s useless. The Saudi’s have many friends in the banking sector, they can be bought, for a price.
So, my vital information is now yours. Let me spell it out for you.
Pay the North Koreans and get your nukes. Or wait and see the funds disappear. All that work at Parchin and down in Antarctica for nothing,” she smiled, “no nuclear weapons. Get them now or lose them.”
“Why are you telling me this? What’s in it for you?” She stood.
“My employers don’t care whether you do, or don’t have nukes. But they do care about Pakistan. There’s more than a suspicion that Pakistan may use these nukes against my country. I work for RAW. Research and Analysis Wing, the Indian secret service. Goodnight Haabeel, sleep on it. Nukes now or lose them, it’s your choice.”
ANUPA LEFT AND CLOSED the door. He’d a big dilemma to handle, she’d left him with a Tiger to wrestle with.
Typical Mossad she thought. They’d got MI6 to give a key member of the Iranian regime the good news. They’d got her to pose as a RAW agent, Haabeel would know that India and Pakistan hated each other. Anupa smiled, grinned then laughed. Good as they were, the Mossad wasn’t perfect. There was more to it than that.
She took out the pay-as-you-go disposable cell phone and dialled a number.
“Hello embassy of Norway,” came the reply in the distinctive sing song accent.
“I’d like to speak with Dr Kristlingson. Tell him it’s Sara Kay.”
“SIR, WE HAVE AN INCOMING message.” Lieutenant Commander Lemineux, stretched and rolled over in his bunk.
“Thanks, PO Stanley, I’ll be there.”
He got out of his bunk and walked into the control room, he opened his console and checked incoming. He walked back aft to the Captain’s cabin and knocked.
“Message Sir, from the DOD.”
“Ok.” Nathan opened his monitor and read the incoming message box.
PRIORITY RED
R 271355Z JUL 88 ZY10
DOD-OPS// ID D22953G22F//