Carrie stopped talking, but her thoughts raced on. That’s why Johnson was so skeptical, unwilling to accept we had a Mossad agent with us. But she knew what we were claiming was true because she gave the Israelis this intel. And, of course, she knew they were going to eliminate the Sheikh. Now, is it a coincidence, we were caught in the middle, or the Sheikh was not the only one set up for elimination? But, why would Johnson want to kill me and Justin?
The last thought darkened her face. She tried to clear her mind and focus on the task at hand. This will have to wait until I talk to Justin.
Eliakim shrugged, feigning indifference about Carrie’s confused state. “All I can say is that we have this intel sharing agreement, under which—”
“I know about that. We, well Johnson, gave you the intel and this is how you repay us, by almost killing us.”
“I told you earlier, it was unintentional, and I offer you my apologies. I’m truly glad you’re not seriously wounded.” Eliakim offered a seemingly sincere smile.
Carrie did a double take at Eliakim’s sudden change of tactic. He’s after something.
“OK, I accept your apology. Now, what you do want?”
Eliakim’s smile disappeared at once.
“Can you confirm our target was eliminated?”
Carrie grinned. “You’re forgetting the rules, Eliakim. Do I need to remind you?”
“No, they’re very clear. You’re the one asking questions here.”
Carrie nodded. “You’ll find your man at this address.”
She handed him a piece of paper she took out of her shirt pocket. “Thank you for your assistance.” Carrie stood up. “If there is nothing else…”
“Actually, there is. May I ask a question?”
“Sure. But I may not answer it.”
“I’ll ask it anyway. You said earlier you were talking to the Sheik about a peace deal. What was he offering you?”
“I’m not at liberty to give you that information.”
“Can you, at least, tell me if the Sheikh is dead?”
“I thought you said one question.”
“This is the last one.”
“I can neither confirm, nor deny—”
“What if I gave you the name of our next target?” Eliakim took a step forward, getting closer to Carrie.
“The target of another Mossad assassination?”
Eliakim nodded.
Carrie hesitated for a brief second. Sooner or later, they’ll find out the Sheikh’s dead. I’ll take the deal. “OK. Sheikh Ayman is dead.”
“Thank you. Our next target is Prince Husayn bin Al-Farhan.”
“What? Is the Mossad trying to start the World War III?”
“I think you’re overreacting.” Eliakim shrugged.
“You call this overreacting? How do you think the Muslim world will overreact to the assassination of a Saudi prince by Israelis squads?”
“The Prince has made many enemies over the years, many of which have vowed publicly to seek revenge. He started feuds with Chechnya’s separatists, Nigerian warlords and, more recently, with Chadian rebels. His death will be celebrated by many people.”
“Why does the Mossad want to settle the score with the Prince?”
Eliakim’s face showed his surprise at Carrie’s question.
“Al-Farhan has supported terrorism for years, channeling funds to charities in the West Bank, Gaza, and Lebanon. This money is used to purchase grenade launchers and Kalashnikovs. Over the last few months, he has shown a greater interest in North Africa. Two months ago, he was in Algeria. Then, he was seen in Egypt, where we lost him. Then, we picked up his trail in Sudan, but we lost him again. There is a strong connection between his travels and the spike in violence after he leaves these countries. Suicide bombs go off, people die, countries sink into chaos.”
“Did the Prince visit Tripoli before the hotel bombings there?”
“We don’t have any information on such trips, but I wouldn’t exclude the possibility.”
“Do you think he has a hand in these explosions?”
“We have no evidence, but given his old and new track record, it is a safe assumption.”
Carrie drew nearer to Eliakim.
“I don’t understand one thing. Isn’t the Prince a close friend of Libya’s Prime Minister? Why would he organize such an attack in Tripoli?”
Eliakim shook his head with a shrug. “Al-Farhan fell out of favor with the Prime Minister last year over disagreements about an oil deal. Apparently, they couldn’t agree on some exploration investment. We’re talking about tens of billions of dollars. Things got really ugly, with the Prince cursing the Prime Minister and wishing his death.”
“Interesting,” Carrie said. “This gives me a new perspective about many things.”
“Explain that to me, would you?” Eliakim asked.
“Oh, no, I can’t.” Carrie tapped on her earpiece, turning on its microphone. “Mike,” she whispered, “our guest is ready to leave.”
Mike appeared at the doorway and Eliakim took a couple of steps toward him. As he was almost stepping out the room, Eliakim turned around. “You know, O’Connor, when they first told me Canadians had a young woman running this operation, I thought someone had royally screwed up. But, then, they gave me your name, and I knew you would turn out to be a tough bone to crack, even for me. That doesn’t happen too often.”
“If you’re complimenting me because you’re gonna ask me out, I have to say ‘no.’ I no longer date people in my profession.”
“I know. I’ve heard what happened in Afghanistan and what you did to that Northern Alliance warlord.”
Carrie shrugged. “People tend to exaggerate when they tell stories. I simply neutralized the pervert’s threat.”
Eliakim grinned. “More like ‘neutered’ the pervert. People say you blew his balls off and that got you an honorable discharge.”
Carrie shook her head. “See, I told you people exaggerate. He lost only one of his family jewels.”
“Well, for all purposes, one of the US allies in Afghanistan is now fixed.”
“He should have listened when I told him I wasn’t interested in becoming one of his concubines. And the honorable discharge came because I refused to apologize. I’ll make no apologies for defending my honor and my life. Not then. Not ever. Now, you’ll have to excuse me.”
Eliakim nodded. He raised his right hand in the air, waving his goodbye.
“Mike, escort the agent to the fence gate,” Carrie spoke on her microphone. “Then, have a team follow him. I want to make sure they pick up their man right away.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mike replied.
“James, the SUV,” Carrie ordered another agent, as she left the room and headed to the right, toward the exit. “And get me Justin on a secure line. I need to talk to him right away.”
Chapter Fourteen
Justin woke up covered in hot sweat. The air conditioner did not work well. The Four Seasons Hotel still used old, bulky models from the nineties, and Justin felt like he was riding a rickety train. Lying in his twin bed and staring at the gray ceiling, Justin’s mind wandered from his fiancée Anna, to his father Carter, to his phone call last night with Carrie, to her meeting with the Mossad, and to Abdul and the Glock under his pillow.
“What will happen today?” He found himself asking the question aloud, albeit in a little more than a whisper. Then, he frowned at the sound of his voice, and at the realization he was talking to himself.