Honour Among Thieves (47 page)

‘Colonel
Kratz, I have waited some time for the privilege of making your acquaintance. I
have long admired your work. You are a perfectionist.’

‘Cut
the crap,’ said Kratz, ‘because I don’t admire you or your work.’

He
waited for the first slap of gloves across his face or for a fist to come
crashing into his jaw, but the General simply continued to circle the chair.

‘You
mustn’t be too disappointed,’ said the General. ‘I feel sure, after all you’ve
heard about us, that you must have expected at least some electric shocks by
now, perhaps the Chinese water torture, even the rack, but I fear – unlike
Mossad, Colonel – that when dealing with people of your seniority we long ago
dispensed with such primitive methods. We have found them to be outmoded, a
thing of the past. Worse, they just don’t get results. You Zionists are tough
and well trained. Few of you talk, very few. So we’ve had to resort to more
scientific methods to gain the information we need.’

If
it was still within the hour, thought Kratz, he had judged it well.

‘A
simple injection of PPX will ensure that we learn everything we want to know,’
continued the General, ‘and once we have the information we require, we’ll
simply kill you. So much more efficient than in the past, and with all the
environmental complaints one gets nowadays, so much more tidy. Though, I must
confess, I miss the old methods. So you’ll appreciate why I couldn’t resist
locking Miss Kopec and Professor Bradley in their safe, especially as they
hadn’t seen each other for so long.’

Kratz’s
hand was pressed back and held against the arm of the chair. He felt fingers
searching for a vein, and when the needle went in, he flinched. He began
counting: one, two, three, four, five, six...

He
was about to find out if one of Europe’s leading chemists had, as she claimed,
found the antidote for the Iraqis’ latest truth drug. Mossad had tracked down
the supplier in Austria. Strange how many people think there are no Jews left
in Austria.

...
thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine ...

The
drug was still in its testing stage, and needed to be proved under
non-laboratory conditions. If a person could remain fully in control of his senses
while appearing to be under hypnosis, then they would know their antidote was a
success.

.
.. one minute, one minute one, one minute two, one minute three . ..

The
test would come when they stuck the second needle in, and that might be
anywhere. Then the trick was to show no reaction whatsoever, or the General
would immediately realise that the original injection had failed to have the
required effect. The training programme for this particular ‘realistic
experience’ was not universally popular among agents, and although Kratz had
experienced ‘the prick’, as it was affectionately known, once a month for the
past nine months, you only had a single chance in ‘non-laboratory conditions’
to discover if you could pass the test.

...
one minute thirty-seven, one minute thirty-eight, one minute thirty-nine...

The
injection was meant to take effect after two minutes, and every agent had been
taught to expect the second needle at some time between two and three minutes,
thus the counting.

...
one minute fifty-six, one minute fifty-seven.. .

Relax,
it must come at any moment. Relax.

Suddenly
the needle was jabbed in and out of the big toe on his left foot. Kratz stopped
gritting his teeth; even his breathing remained regular. He had won the Israeli
Pincushion Award, First Class. Mossad made jokes about everything.

‘...
AND ALL THAT TIME I really thought you were dead.’

‘We
had no way of letting you know,’ said Scott.

‘Still,
it’s no longer of any importance, Simon,’ said Hannah. ‘Sorry. “Scott” will
take a bit of getting used to. I may not be able to manage it in the time we’ve
got left.’

‘We
may have more time left than you think,’ said Scott.

‘How
can you say that?’

‘One
of the contingency plans that Kratz and I worked on was that if any of us were
caught and tortured while someone else was still free, we’d hold out for one
hour before telling them the whopper.’

Hannah
knew exactly what Mossad meant by the whopper, even if on this occasion she
didn’t know the details.

‘Although
I have to admit this is one scenario we never considered,’ said Scott. ‘In
fact, the exact opposite. We thought that if we were able to convince them we
had another purpose for bringing the safe to Baghdad, they’d immediately
evacuate the building and clear the surrounding area.’

‘And
what would that have achieved?’

‘We
hoped that with the building empty, even if we’d been captured, the other
agents who came over the border a day ahead of us might have a clear hour to
get into the Council Chamber and remove the Declaration.’

‘But
wouldn’t the Iraqis have taken the document away with them?’

‘Not
necessarily. Our plan was that we would tell them exactly what would happen to
their beloved leader if the safe was closed by anyone other than me. We felt
that would cause panic, and they’d probably leave everything behind.’

‘So
Kratz drew the short straw.’

‘Yes,’
said Scott quietly. ‘Not that his original plan is relevant any longer, after I
was stupid enough to hand over the Declaration to Hamil. So now we’ll have to
use the time to get out, not in.’

‘But
you didn’t hand it over,’ said Hannah. ‘The Declaration is still on the wall of
the Chamber.’

‘I’m
afraid not,’ said Scott. ‘Hamil was right. I switched the copies after I set
the alarm off. So I ended up giving Hamil back the original.’

‘No,
you didn’t,’ said Hannah. ‘It’s because you believed you switched the original
that you fooled Hamil as well as yourself.’

‘What
are you talking about?’ said Scott.

‘I’m
the one responsible,’ said Hannah. ‘I found the cardboard tube in the safe and
switched the two documents, thinking I could get out of the building and then
pass on a message to let Kratz know what I’d done. The trouble was, you and
General Hamil arrived just as I was about to leave. So, when you locked
yourself in the Chamber, you put the original back on the wall, and then you
handed over the copy to Hamil.’

Scott
took her in his arms again. ‘You’re a genius,’ he said.

‘No
I’m not,’ said Hannah. ‘So you’d better let me in on the secret of what you’ve
planned for this particular scenario. To start with, how do we get out of a
locked safe?’

‘That’s
the beauty of it,’ said Scott. ‘It isn’t locked. It’s programmed so that it can
only be opened and closed by me.’

‘Who
dreamed that one up?’

‘A
Swede who would happily take our place, but he’s stuck in Kalmar. The first
thing I have to do is discover which wall is the door.’

‘That’s
easy,’ said Hannah. ‘It has to be exactly opposite me because I’m sitting below
the picture of Saddam, remember?’

Scott
and Hannah began the short crawl on their hands and knees to the other side of
the safe. ‘Now we go to the right-hand corner,’ he said, ‘so that when we push,
the leverage will be easier.’

Hannah
nodded, and then remembered they couldn’t see each other. ‘Yes,’ she said.

Scott
checked the luminous dial of his watch. ‘But not quite yet,’ he added. ‘We’ll
have to give Kratz a little more time.’

‘Enough
time to tell me what the whopper is?’ asked Hannah.

‘Good,’
said the General, when Kratz didn’t react to the needle being jabbed into his
big toe. ‘Now we can find out all we need to know. But to begin with, some
simple questions. Your Mossad rank?’

‘Colonel,’
said Kratz. The secret was to tell them only facts you felt confident they
already knew.

‘Your
initiation number?’

‘78216,’
he said. If in doubt, assume they know, otherwise you could be caught out.

‘And
your official position?’

‘Councillor
for Cultural Affairs to the Court of St James in London.’ You are allowed three
testing lies and one whopper, but no more.

‘What
are the names of your three colleagues who accompanied you on this mission?’

‘Professor
Scott Bradley, an expert on ancient manuscripts,’ – the first testing lie –
‘Ben Cohen, and Aziz Zeebari.’ The truth.

‘And
the girl, Hannah Kopec, what is her rank in Mossad?’

‘She
is still a trainee.’

‘How
long has she been with Mossad?’

‘Just
over two years.’

‘And
her role?’

‘To
be placed in Baghdad to discover where the Declaration of Independence was
located.’ The second lie.

‘You
are doing well, Colonel,’ said the General, looking at the long, thin cardboard
tube he held in his right hand.

‘And
was this your overall responsibility as her commanding officer?’

‘No.
I was simply to accompany the safe from Kalmar.’ The third lie.

‘But
surely that was nothing more than an excuse to locate the Declaration of
Independence?’

Kratz
hesitated. Experts had been able to show that even under the influence of a
truth drug a highly trained agent would still hesitate when asked a secret he
had never revealed in the past.

‘What
was the true purpose of your bringing the safe to Baghdad, Colonel?’

Kratz
still remained silent.

‘Colonel
Kratz,’ said the General, his voice rising with every word, ‘what was the real
reason you brought the safe to Baghdad?’

Kratz
counted to three before he spoke.

‘To
blow up the Ba’ath Party headquarters with a tiny nuclear device secreted in
the safe, in the hope of killing the President along with all the members of
the Revolutionary Command Council.’ The whopper.

How
Kratz wished he could see the General’s face. It was Hamil who was hesitating
now.

‘How
was the bomb to be activated?’

Again
Kratz did not reply.

‘I
will ask you once again, Colonel. How was the bomb to be activated?’

Still
Kratz said nothing.

‘When
will it go off?’ shouted the General.

‘Two
hours after the safe has been closed by anyone other than the Professor.’

The
General checked his watch, rushed to the only phone in the room and shouted to
be put through to the President immediately. He waited until he heard Saddam’s
voice. He didn’t notice that Kratz had fainted and fallen from his chair to the
floor.

Scott
eased himself into the corner before once again checking the little sulphur
dots on his watch. It was 5.19. He and Hannah had been in the safe for an hour
and seventeen minutes.

‘I’m
going to push now. If you hear anything, shove as hard as you can. If there’s
anyone still out there our only hope will be to take them by surprise.’

Scott
began to exert the minimum amount of pressure on the corner of the door with
the tips of his fingers, and it eased open an inch. He stopped and listened,
but could hear nothing. He took a look through the tiny crack, and could see no
one. He pushed another inch. Still no sound. Both of them now had a clear view
of the corridor.

Scott
looked at Hannah and nodded, and together they shoved as hard as they could.
The ton of steel shot open. They both leaped into the corridor, but there was
no one to be seen. There was an eerie silence.

Scott
and Hannah walked slowly down the short corridor, keeping to the sides until
they reached the Chamber. Still no sound. Scott put a foot into the Chamber and
glanced to his left. The Declaration of Independence was still hanging on the
wall next to the portrait of Saddam.

Hannah
moved silently to the far end of the Chamber and looked into the long corridor.
She then turned back to Scott and nodded. Scott checked the spelling of
‘Brittish’ before saying a silent hallelujah. He pulled out three of the nails,
then eased the Declaration over the remaining nail in the top right-hand
corner, trying to forget that he had spat on a national treasure and rubbed it
in the dust. He gave Saddam one last look before rolling up the parchment and
joining Hannah in the corridor.

Hannah
slid along the wall, then pointed to the lift. She pulled a finger across her
throat to show Scott she wanted to avoid using it in favour of the back stairs.
He nodded his agreement and followed her out of the side door.

They
moved quickly but silently up the six flights of stairs until they reached the
ground floor. Hannah beckoned Scott into the side room where the cleaners had
collected their boxes. She had reached the window on the far side of the room
and was on her knees even before Scott had closed the door. He joined her and
they stared out on a deserted Victory Square. There was no one to be seen in
any direction.