Closure Page 2

  After a long minute, the door squeaked again and Gholam barked in his trademark gruff voice, “Get in. Get him in now.”

  Javin was shoved forward by another pair of hands, then the door was closed behind him.

  “Remove the blindfold,” said a strong, authoritative voice.

  Javin blinked, then turned his head and raised his hand to protect his eyes from the strong light coming through two windows. Two men were sitting cross-legged near one of the walls. Two gunmen, armed with assault rifles, were standing back near the door.

  “Come in, and sit, sit down,” Commander Bakhtiar said in English.

  Javin nodded and took a few steps. “Salam alaikum, Commander, and thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” He spoke in a soft voice in Arabic.

  Bakhtiar rubbed his full salt-and-pepper beard, then tilted his head toward the man next to him. He was younger than Bakhtiar—the file Javin had seen on the Iranian commander noted his age as sixty-one—but as evenly built as him. They both wore green-and-black camouflage jackets and pants. The commander had also a matching cap. His forehead was broad and was marked by a deep V-shaped wrinkle where his thick bushy eyebrows almost met. He had small but piercing black eyes, which were measuring Javin. “Alaikum wa salam. My men failed to mention you speak Arabic.”

  “I’m sure they were preoccupied with more important details.” Javin sat across from the two men.

  “Yes, details, that’s why you are here, right?”

  He doesn’t waste time with chit-chat. I like that, Javin thought. “As we agreed, I’ve brought all the intel you requested.”

  Bakhtiar nodded slowly. “Go ahead then.”

  Javin leaned forward, then shifted to make himself more comfortable. “The intel is very sensitive, Commander. Are you—”

  Bakhtiar cut him off with a hand gesture. “Ali is my right hand. I trust him with everything. And the guards, they’ve sworn loyalty on their heads.”

  “If that’s your will.”

  “It is. Speak.”

  Javin nodded. He had run through this scenario many times in his head and had practiced what he was going to say at the right moment. But still he struggled to find the right words. He drew in a deep breath, then said, “Commander Bakhtiar. I’d like to inform you that my boss is coming for your head.”

  Chapter Three

  Al-Abawia, fifteen miles southwest of Najaf

  Southern Iraq

  Bakhtiar’s frown stretched across his face. “How dare you utter such a threat?”

  The guards stepped toward Javin, their weapons cocked.

  “Commander, I’m just the messenger.” Javin put his hands up and shook his head. “I have nothing to do with this order, and I’m not here for its execution.”

  Bakhtiar grinned. “Of course, you’re not. But you’re bringing me a warning.” His voice turned ice-cold, giving Javin shivers. “A warning that Mr. Martin wants to see me dead.”

  Hugo Martin was Javin’s boss and the CIS Director of Intelligence for the Europe Division.

  “Very unfortunate, considering your relationship.” Javin tried to keep his voice neutral, allowing himself no sign of self-satisfaction.

  Bakhtiar locked eyes with Javin. “What do you know about that?”

  “I have sufficient intelligence to ...” Javin’s voice trailed off.

  “Go on.”

  “This is extremely sensitive and—”

  “I told you to speak and fast.”

  “All right, all right.” Javin nodded. “I know about Martin’s Tel Aviv op and your ... eh, let’s call it intervention.”

  Bakhtiar’s face showed no emotions. “What intervention?”

  “The operation to extract Martin and his team. Seven years ago. Before he was a director and you a commander. He owes you his life, along with his reputation. And he has been doing your bidding for this long, handing you classified intel. I have the documents, everything to confirm my words.”

  “Documents? You have documents?”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t make such claims if I couldn’t back them up, would I?” Javin leaned forward. “But Commander, you knew that, or at least, you suspected it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have agreed to meet with me, a rogue CIS operative.”

  Bakhtiar nodded slowly, then he cast a menacing glare at Javin. “Tell me, what stops me from getting these documents from you by gentle means of persuasion?”

  “Torture, right?” Javin said in a calm voice, but he felt worry gathering at the pit of his stomach.

  He was deep inside the lions’ den. An order, even a hand gesture or a head nod, would put Javin through such brutal treatment that he would beg Bakhtiar’s henchmen to end his life. He had no illusions he would survive torture, or that a rescue team would deliver him in the nick of time. That was why he had already made plans.

  Javin nodded slowly and said, “Yes, you could get me to tell you where these documents are. But let me save you time and myself a lot of pain. The documents are not in the Toyota. They’re on their way to Mossad.”

  “What?” Ali blurted.

  “You’re bluffing, trying to deceive us,” said Bakhtiar.

  Javin shook his head firmly. “No, sir, I’m telling you the truth. I knew what I was getting into when I headed toward your stronghold. I knew I wouldn’t make it out alive if I didn’t have an exit plan.”

  “And this is it? Your exit plan?”

  “Yes. If I don’t return to my contact within six hours, he will deliver all these documents to Mossad operatives. Neither of us want that, especially you.”

  Bakhtiar said, “Pierce, I don’t like your tone.”

  Javin nodded. “Apologies, sir. I’m concerned about our fate, for both of our lives. My life is already in danger, as I’m wanted by the Saudis and my own agency.”

  “You’re forgetting Mossad, the people who almost killed you,” Bakhtiar gestured with his hands.

  “Yes,” Ali said, “and you’re threatening us you’re going to give those materials to the same Mossad.”

  “True, very true. But you know how Mossad operates: if it’s to their advantage, they’re always willing to strike a deal. And this is a fantastic deal for them. They’ll let go a small fish in exchange for something of greater value.” Javin nodded toward Bakhtiar. “They’re smart, but you’re smarter.”

  “What makes you think Mossad will hold up their end of the deal?” Bakhtiar asked.

  “I don’t think that, and I’d rather not involve the Israelis. That’s why I came to you first. Look, we both want the same thing: Martin dead.”

  Bakhtiar cocked his head to the right. “You want to kill your boss?”

  “As you know full well, Martin made an attempt on my life. He first threatened me, then he made good on that promise. I have no more allegiance to my boss.”

  “What about your agency? Your country?”

  Javin shook his head. “Martin represents neither. He needs to go away. For good.”

  “But why such extreme measures? If you truly have this sensitive material, as you claim, you can hand it to your boss’s boss or the media. Even Martin would not survive the ensuing scandal.”

  “Maybe you don’t know Martin as well as I do. He has survived much worse. But even if he didn’t, I wouldn’t be alive to see that day. And neither would you.”

  Bakhtiar seemed taken aback by the statement. He gave Javin a puzzled glance. “Why would I go down with Martin?”

  “You won’t, but as I told you earlier, he will come for you. He’s pulling no punches. Martin put me in his sights not just because I disobeyed his order. It’s very likely he suspects I know about his past, which he prefers to keep buried. Once he has gotten rid of me, Martin will surely come for you and tie up this loose end.”

  Bakhtiar nodded slowly. He was following Javin’s line of reasoning and could see the logic. At least, that was Javin’s hope.

  A long tense moment followed, as Bakhtiar gave Ali a knowing look. “So, in exchange for giving me this
information, you want my help in taking down your boss?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Isn’t that a lot to ask?”

  “In exchange for your life?”

  Bakhtiar nodded again. “I like you, Pierce.”

  “Call me Javin.”

  “I like you, Javin. You have guts and smarts. It’s rare to see that combination.”

  Javin nodded.

  “But that makes people arrogant and reckless. You’re galloping without really seeing where you’re headed, like a wild horse in a thicket. You need a pair of strong hands to control you.”

  Javin held Bakhtiar’s eyes and said nothing.

  “I’ll pair you up with Danyal. He knows this area, and he has also operated in Europe. I’m assuming you’ll make your move on Martin somewhere where it’s not noticeable.”

  “Correct, sir.”

  “And you have a plan?”

  “It’s still in the works, but it will change now that I have more reso—”

  “I don’t want to hear a half-cooked plan. Talk with Danyal, then come back for my approval. And Javin, listen carefully so you don’t misunderstand my order: This is no longer your operation.”

  Javin frowned, but he knew better than to interrupt Commander Bakhtiar, who continued, “You came here, asking for my help. And if Martin has made me a target, that changes everything.”

  Javin nodded. “He has made you a target.”

  Bakhtiar said, “Very good, then. Danyal will be in charge of this operation, because Martin no longer is your objective. He’s our joint objective, and we’ll make sure he’s eliminated.”

  Chapter Four

  Al-Abawia, fifteen miles southwest of Najaf

  Southern Iraq

  Danyal’s deep frown was a clear indicator that he was greatly displeased to be drawn into what he called the “Canadian affair.” Bakhtiar had told Danyal very little and had been vague about the operation. But the commander had given clear orders that Danyal had to obey: travel with Javin to Baghdad, then make plans to eliminate a security service official in an unnamed European country.

  When Danyal and Javin were outside the villa Commander Bakhtiar had been using as the Quds Force headquarters, Danyal stepped closer to Javin. “Tell me all Bakhtiar kept a secret.”

  Javin peered at Danyal’s small black eyes. They were studying Javin’s face for signs of trickery. Javin shrugged and said, “Look, Danyal, we’re going to work together, and I don’t want to lie to you. I can’t tell you more than what Bakhtiar—”

  “We’re not working together; you’re under my command. I command you to give me all the intelligence.”

  “Can’t do that.” Javin shook his head.

  Danyal stepped closer to Javin. He was about six feet tall, bigger and better built than Javin. Danyal brushed back his slick wavy hair then looked askance at Javin. “You’re going to have a lot of problems.”

  “I want no problems with you, but I also want no problems with the commander. You’re forcing me to choose between the two, and the choice is obvious.”

  Danyal tightened his large hand into a fist, then let out a curse in Farsi. Javin did not speak the language, but the tone of a curse sounded the same in any language. The saliva flying out of Danyal’s mouth was a good-enough hint that he was not speaking words of joy.

  Then he spat on the ground and paced toward the nearest vehicle, a battered Nissan SUV. He cursed again, then punched the driver-side door so hard it caused a big dent. He shook his head, then seemed to be taking deep breaths. As Danyal had turned his back toward Javin, the Canadian could not see what was going on exactly.

  A moment later, Danyal nodded, then gestured for Javin to come closer to him. When he did, Danyal said, “So you’re not telling me the name or the location of this kill. What about the agency of this official?”

  Javin had anticipated the question. He thought it would help repair their strained relationship if he shared some of the intelligence—what did not involve Bakhtiar and what Danyal would eventually find out. So he said, “The agency is the CIS.”

  Danyal peered at Javin. “The Canadian Intelligence Service? That’s your agency.”

  “Correct.”

  “Someone you know?”

  “Correct.”

  “And you worked with him?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “What did he do to deserve such a fate?”

  “Bad things.”

  “To you?”

  “And to others.”

  “So this is revenge?”

  Javin shook his head. “Justice.”

  “Revenge by another name.”

  “If you’d like to think so.”

  Danyal stepped closer to Javin. “I’m having trouble understanding why the Quds Force should get involved in your revenge business.”

  Because Bakhtiar’s life is at stake. Javin shook his head. He could not say those words. He drew in a deep breath and said, “It’s a favor. The commander is doing the CIS a favor.”

  Danyal held Javin’s eyes. “So, there’s more than just you involved in this operation?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many?”

  “At least one more person.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “My partner. And we’ll have more people if needed.”

  Danyal grinned. “When were you going to tell me?”

  “I just did. We’re making a plan, right?”

  “Yes, and you need to be straightforward with me.”

  Javin nodded. “Sure.”

  “So, we reach Baghdad and get new passports. The force has a contact, who’s almost a genius. Germany, Italy, Spain, and other countries. He can get them ready.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “When will we know about this CIS official’s whereabouts?”

  “I should have that intel in a couple of days. He’s expected to visit Europe next week.”

  Danyal nodded. “We’ll wait for him in Spain. I have people there we can trust.”

  “Okay.”

  “What security does he have?”

  Javin thought about it for a moment. Martin usually travelled with one armed protective officer from the CIS’s Office of Security. And that was only when attending high-level meetings and in war zones. Some could argue that Europe had turned into a war zone because of the wave of bombings and terrorist attacks. After the spat of words between Martin and Javin, he would not be surprised if Martin had increased his security. “Not sure, but we can expect a three- or perhaps a four-person team.”

  “The exact details of our plan will vary depending on the location, of course, but I want to grab him while travelling.”

  Javin nodded. “Yes, he’ll be more vulnerable in transit. But Bakhtiar’s order was for us to eliminate him, to kill.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” Danyal’s bitter tone of voice expressed the complete opposite. “He delivered the order directly, and I have a good memory.”

  Javin said nothing.

  Danyal said, “But we should first interrogate him, extract intelligence, then put a bullet in his head.”

  “If possible, but he’s not going down without a fierce fight.”

  Danyal grinned. “I expect so. Otherwise, it would be too easy, and I don’t like it easy.”

  Javin nodded. “We’ll need at least six people.”

  “We’ll have them. You’re bringing two, yourself and your partner. When is he joining us?

  She. “Very soon. A day, two at the most.”

  “In Baghdad?”

  Javin shrugged. “Maybe. It will depend.”

  “On what?”

  “Eh ... something has come up. But it should be resolved well, and on time for our op.”

  Danyal’s eyes gave Javin a tense look. “You’re not giving it to me straight.”

  “I’m telling you all I can.”

  Danyal nodded slowly, but his eyes showed his displeasure. “It will be sufficient. For now.”

  Ja
vin shrugged but did not say anything.

  Danyal said, “I’ll brief the commander, then we’ll gather our gear and leave for Baghdad. If everything goes well, we’ll be there in the early afternoon.”

  Javin nodded. Baghdad was about a hundred and ten miles north of Najaf. If the country were at peace, the drive would not take more than two and a half hours. But Iraq had been swallowed up in sectarian violence over most of the last decade. Danyal, Javin and the rest of the team would have to navigate through backroads, avoid militia checkpoints, and make sure they did not fall into ambushes. It would be a long, perilous journey.

  “I’ll go with you,” Javin said.

  Danyal shook his head. “That will not be necessary. You’re not the team lead. I’ll let you know the commander’s orders, but I’m sure he’ll be in agreement with my plan.”

  Javin did not like the reply, but he did not have much of a choice. “All right. I’ll get ready while I wait for you.”

  Danyal left without another word.

  Javin shrugged and watched the Iranian operative hurry toward the Quds Force headquarters. You’ll tell me what you want to tell me. But I guess that’s only fair. I’m keeping you in the dark about a lot in this op. Especially about Claudia.

  He frowned as his mind raced to his partner locked away in jail. Hang on for a while longer, Claudia. I’ll get you out.

  Chapter Five

  The Ritz Carlton Hotel

  Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

  Claudia shook her head slowly, then looked at her interrogator sitting across the small desk. His face was crumpled up like a used Kleenex. “No, my story hasn’t changed. And will not change, regardless of how many times you ask the same question.” She tried to contain the fury rising in her voice. “We didn’t come to the gala to kill the prince, or to make sure someone else did. We were there to stop the assassins.”