Alon stood and headed to the door. He struggled a little with the security chain, and eventually freed it and walked, uneasily, toward the elevator. Ya’ara called Aslan from the nearby room. “He’s on his way down to you. Good luck,” she said.
Aslan started the car. Amir was in the front seat next to him. And from a distance of some fifty meters, they kept watch on the hotel’s entrance, waiting for the figure of Cobra to emerge.
61
TEL AVIV, APRIL 2013
The entire crew had gathered in the apartment, the one that could perhaps go on to serve one day as Michael Turgeman’s law firm office. Aharon was sitting in his armchair, alert and raring to go. “Let’s start with Aslan’s report,” he said.
Aslan cleared his throat. “Cobra left the hotel looking tense and as white as a sheet,” he began. “He looked around—maybe to find a taxi or maybe to see if he was being followed, I don’t know. But a taxi pulled up next to him, and he simply didn’t see us, me and Amir. He must have been stressed because the taxi took him straight to Tel Aviv without any stops or maneuvering that would have allowed him to try to spot us. He got out on the corner of Ibn Gvirol and Manne and immediately headed down Manne, in an easterly direction. He then stopped for a short while, just twenty seconds or so, alongside the concrete fence of one of the buildings. And after standing there briefly without moving, he hailed a second taxi to his home in Tzahala. We checked, but there was no marking on the fence.”
“Do you think he intended to leave a sign there for his handlers?” Aharon asked. “The age-old technique of chalk marks on the wall?”
“Perhaps,” Aslan said. “But as distressed as he may have been, he must have realized that we may have him under surveillance and chose not to do so. Someone like him has other ways of reporting his situation, even if he’s reluctant to use them to begin with.”
“Thank you, Aslan. Great job. So what do you have to say,” Aharon asked the team, “about my meeting with Alon Regev?”
“What astounds me,” Michael said, “is that he used the meeting to try already to sell you the ultimate cover story, a story that appears impossible to contradict or refute. Yes, he has maintained secret ties with a superpower, the United States and not the Soviet Union, and these ties—despite their conspiratorial nature, and perhaps even because of it—were in fact a covert channel for passing on messages and sometimes disinformation, with the entire operation initiated, ordered, planned, and authorized by none other than Daniel Shalev, who obviously can’t be asked a thing.”
“We can ask all we want, but we aren’t going to get any answers.”
“Why do you think he did so?” Michael continued. “Why play such an outlandish story so early in the game, when it could have been his trump card, in the event he really finds himself with his back to the wall?”
“The explanation for that, I think, is a complex one,” Aharon said. “First of all, he’s already under terrible stress. His cover’s been blown, and he knows it, and he’s fighting for his life. Second, I think that already at this stage he wanted us to know what awaits us at the end of the line. He wanted us to know that he has a trump card. A story like that could explain almost everything that he’s done that appears to be espionage. And to top it all, with permission and authorization that can’t be verified. We could of course ask him to see a document or piece of paper or something that proves he did indeed receive his instructions from Daniel Shalev, but then he’ll simply say no. Matters of this kind don’t and could never be allowed to leave a paper trail.” Aharon took a deep breath.
“But the crux of the matter is that Regev doesn’t require exoneration,” Aharon continued. “He needs to avoid a conviction. All he wanted to do—over and above the fact that he was stressed and felt an inner need to confront me, and not just sit there like a punching bag—was to show us how complicated things are going to get. And this entire discussion is theoretical anyway, because the Shin Bet won’t be involved and there won’t be an official investigation.”
“The thing that really freaked him out,” Adi said, “was the story you gave him about Brian being in our hands and on his way to Israel. That could really put paid to his entire preposterous cover story. Because the moment we have evidence from the Russian side, he’s finished.”
“Yes, he heard that and decided to end the conversation immediately. That undoubtedly put him under terrible strain, but don’t forget,” Aharon said, “that threat, as if Brian is in our hands, will hold water for just a few days. Or even less, if the Russians manage to relay a message to inform him that Brian is okay. To win this battle, we need to take advantage of this brief period of uncertainty, during which the complete picture remains obscure to all. Which reminds me that I need to speak with Bill. I want to suggest that they go public with their investigation of Brian, who may already be on his way back to Rhode Island. Unless the SVR has decided to bring him back to Moscow. They don’t know for certain that Julian Hart’s cover has been blown, but they may have picked up on signs of danger.”
“So where do we go from here?” Adi asked.
“I need to do some thinking. To compile all the information we have in an orderly fashion. You’ll help me with that, okay?”
“Sure,” Adi responded, “no question.”
“I’d like us to have a stay of exit order against Alon Regev. Right now, all he has to do to escape is to board the first plane out of Ben Gurion Airport and fly away.”
“I think I can sort that out with my friend at the Interior Ministry,” Amir said.
“Wow, he must owe you a lot, this friend of yours,” Michael said, genuinely impressed.
“It’s a little frightening, what your friends can do,” Adi added.
“If you had served with me in the support platoon, you’d be doing things for me, too,” Amir said.
“I don’t even want to think about being with a bunch of paratroopers coming to the end of their service. It gives me the creeps,” Adi fired back.
“That’s enough, children,” Aslan interjected in a fatherly tone. “Stay focused.”
Ya’ara was sitting to the side a little, silent and withdrawn. Lost in her thoughts.
“Tell me, Aslan,” Michael asked, “can you put together a team of sorts to keep watch on Cobra’s home? To make sure he doesn’t flee?”
“I can assemble a group of former comrades and tell them we’re conducting a drill on behalf of the VIP Protection Unit, or something like that. But they’re guys with brains in their heads. They’ll start asking questions.”
Aharon opened his eyes, which had been closed for a few moments. “I don’t want to bring additional people into this story. There are several issues we need to iron out with Mr. Regev. If Amir’s friend can block his access to the airport, I’ll feel more at ease. The Russians may have an exit strategy, but it will take them at least twenty-four hours to set it in motion. If we move fast, we can stay ahead of them. So no more people in the know. We’ll run the risk. For now, we’re not bringing in any reinforcements to keep track of Cobra.”
At that moment, everyone turned to look at Ya’ara, who had just dropped the pen she was holding, causing it to clatter loudly on the floor. Only then did they realize that she hadn’t taken part in the conversation.