JET - Ops Files (16 page)

“I’ve got a package for you. Let’s meet in two hours. There’s a café three blocks from your apartment. I’ll be there at eleven.” He mentioned a name and an address. “Don’t be late.”

When she arrived, he was sitting in a corner away from the main dining area. The little café was deserted other than a pair of old women near the front windows. Maya sat across from him, and a waitress came over and took her order before disappearing.

“Why are we meeting here and not at some headquarters building?”

“Combatants, as operatives are called, don’t go to headquarters. You’ll spend your entire operational life in the field. You’re operational staff, not HQ, and as such, you have no need to know anything about headquarters. All your contact will be with me. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“No, I just didn’t understand. Now I do.”

The waitress returned with her coffee, placed it on the table, and sauntered off.

Lev glanced around and slid a file to her. “This will be your first operation. You’ll be going into Jordan. We’re inserting a four-man team, and you’ll be one of the operatives. On this mission you’ll be playing a support role.”

She nodded. “What’s the objective?”

“It’s a snatch. We’ve gotten word that an undesirable is holed up at a farm south of Irbid. The intelligence indicates that it’s fortified. Your mission is to kidnap him, take him to a secure location, and debrief him. We can’t easily get him across the border from Jordan, so it will have to take place in-country. You’ll be going across on the bus from Nazareth to Amman.” He passed a manila envelope to her. “Your operational papers are in there. You’ll be carrying a French passport with all appropriate stamps, and your cover is a student who’s on a tour of the region. Once in Amman, you’ll rendezvous and travel north. The mission leader is using the name Rudi. You’re Theresa Brouget. Everything you need to know is in the file, which you must destroy once you’ve memorized it. Burn it and rinse the ashes down the apartment sink.”

Maya opened the file folder and found herself staring at a black-and-white image of a bearded man circled in yellow, speaking with three other similarly attired men, presumably taken with a hidden camera. She glanced at the information on the attached page and then closed the file.

“How long will I be in Jordan?”

“No more than three or four days, I shouldn’t think. But that will be up to Rudi. You’re to follow his orders to the letter. He’s experienced and has a good track record. Once with your group you’ll pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend – a budding vacation romance.”

“And if there are any problems?”

“There are protocols in the file. Clearly, the hope is you won’t have to use them.”

Maya nodded. “What time does the bus leave?”

“8:30 a.m. So it will be an early morning. Allow two hours to get there. Leave your car in the hotel lot near the pickup point, where it will be safe. Obviously, don’t take anything that could identify you as Israeli. A package with French clothes, cell phone, and hygiene products will be dropped off at your apartment this afternoon. Carry only the identification in the envelope, nothing else.”

“I understand.” She paused. “How will I know Rudi?”

“The details are in the envelope.” Lev stood and put some shekels on the table. “Good luck.”

She gave him a small smile. “I tend to make my own luck, but thanks.”

Chapter 24

Amman, Jordan

Maya stepped off the bus and pulled her backpack over her shoulder before setting off for a nearby hotel where she’d be meeting Rudi in the lobby restaurant for a late lunch. The sun blazed high overhead as she made her way down the bustling sidewalk. It was her first time in Jordan, and the city was more cosmopolitan than she’d expected. She wore European clothing, lightweight baggy pants, and a shapeless long-sleeved shirt, and felt conspicuous without a hijab, as many of the Muslim women were wearing.

At the large contemporary hotel, the doorman didn’t give her a second glance when she entered the mammoth air-conditioned lobby and looked around for the restaurant. Once she was comfortably seated at a table near the door sipping iced tea, she began reading one of the guidebooks that had been thoughtfully left in her care package.

Ten minutes later she checked her watch and saw a tall man in his late twenties approaching, a shock of dark hair hanging over his brow. His face lit up when he saw her, and she marveled at the look of supposed genuine recognition that warmed his features.

“Theresa,” he said as he arrived at the table. She stood, and he kissed her on each cheek.

“Rudi. I thought you’d never get here. I’m famished,” she said in French, reciting her code phrase.

He appraised her with intelligent hazel eyes, a faint look of amusement playing across his face. “Well, we can’t have you starving to death. What would the locals think?” he responded in kind, his accent flawless. “Have you had a chance to check out the menu?”

“Of course. Everything looks wonderful.”

“Then we shall have one of everything.”

“Well, perhaps a more sensible approach is in order.”

A waiter in a starched white shirt and a red vest arrived with a second menu, and after glancing at it, Rudi ordered for them both. When the man had departed, Rudi smiled easily and studied Maya as if memorizing every detail of her.

“You look well. How was your trip?” he asked.

“As expected. No surprises.”

“Excellent. I hope you’re looking forward to discovering the wonders of Jordan. It’s a miraculous place.”

“Of course. I can’t wait to get started.”

They made small talk, outwardly innocent to any eavesdropper, and bantered over their lunch, which was indifferently prepared but edible. When the check came, Rudi paid, and then they made their way out the door, arm in arm like lovers.

“Where to?” she asked.

“I’m parked in the lot a block down. Let’s make sure you didn’t pick up a tail, and assuming you’re clean, we’ll get out of here.”

“What about the others?”

“Don’t worry about them. Just worry about yourself for now.”

Rudi stopped abruptly to tie his shoe, and Maya checked the sidewalk behind them for signs of surveillance, but saw nothing. Rudi glanced around, and his eyes roved over the cars parked on the far side of the street. When he stood, he looked satisfied. “I don’t see anything odd.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Couldn’t be better. Not that I’m expecting a welcoming committee, but you can never be too careful.”

They resumed their stroll. The heat radiating off the sidewalk was almost unbearable, and Maya exhaled a sigh of relief when they arrived at the lot, where a white GMC Yukon was parked near the exit. Five minutes later they were in downtown traffic, Rudi’s gaze moving from the side mirror to the rearview mirror as he navigated through the unruly snarl. He followed the stream of vehicles until they were on the highway north, headed toward Irbid on a modern four-lane road.

“Are you going to fill me in on what we’re doing?” Maya asked when he finally relaxed.

“Sure. The others are in place. I’ve got a safe house one of our contacts leased out in the country, where we won’t be bothered. The target is, as of yesterday, at a farm between Neaime and Al Hosn. I had hoped to have more time, but I don’t trust the local intel, so I want to grab him tonight.”

“Fine. What do you need me to do?”

“You and Peter, whom you’ll meet shortly, will watch the road to ensure we aren’t interrupted while we go in. I’ll take Saul, whom I’ve worked with before. It should be easy – according to the surveillance report, it’s only the target and the people who work the farm in the house, so I don’t anticipate any problems.”

“How will you neutralize them?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“I see. And weapons?”

“At the house. Beretta 92 9mm pistols. Locally sourced – I have a feeling they disappeared from the army here. I want nothing that could hint at Israel if something goes wrong.”

She looked through the window at the Zarqa River as they crossed over the rushing water. “So you snatch him while we act as lookouts? That’s it?” Maya couldn’t keep the hint of disappointment out of her voice.

“Look. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t afford to have anything go sideways on us. I understand from Lev that you’re more than capable, but Saul has years of experience, and so do I, so we’ll handle the heavy lifting. Hopefully this will be a nice, boring surveillance operation, and you’ll be on your way home in a day or two, no worse for wear.”

“I like the sound of that. But if you don’t mind me saying so, you seem on edge. Are you expecting trouble?”

“I’m always expecting trouble. Especially when the information we’re acting on comes from locals. There’s a constant problem of reliability – our informants work for money, not love, so we can never be a hundred percent sure that they aren’t playing both sides to maximize their payday.”

She nodded. “You have any reason to believe that’s the case?”

“None, other than a lifetime of doing this.” They sat in silence for the rest of the drive. Rudi turned off the main road and took a smaller tributary toward the Nu’aymeh hills. Two kilometers off the highway he pulled into the driveway of a two-story beige stone house. The adjacent field was plowed with neat rows of furrows in the rich alluvial soil. Rudi shut off the engine and turned to her.

“Here we are. Home sweet home. I’ll call the others in a little while. They’re watching the farm access road. Thank God there’s cell service here.”

They entered the modest house, and she set her backpack down on one of the hardwood dining room chairs – rustically crafted, as was all the furniture she could see.

“There are three bedrooms,” Rudi said. “You can have the smallest one upstairs. We’ll take the other two.”

“Great. What’s our timing look like?”

He checked his watch. “Figure eight hours. Call it midnight. Everyone should be asleep by then on the surrounding farms.”

“What do you want me to do in the meantime?”

He retrieved a cell phone from his shirt pocket and gave her an uninterested glance. “Get some rest. It’s going to be a long night.”

Maya tried to nap, but her thoughts intruded. Here she was, doing the job she had trained so hard for, and all Rudi wanted her to do was be a lookout. She supposed she could see his point – but still, it felt dismissive, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he really didn’t want her there.

The sound of the front door closing roused her from her semi-slumber, and she returned downstairs, where a whippet-thin man with weasel eyes and a gleaming shaved head was cleaning a pistol. He gave her a flat look and returned to his task as Rudi paced in the other room.

“Hi. I’m Theresa,” she said, taking the seat across from him.

“Saul,” the man said, as if the single syllable explained everything.

“Nice to meet you,” Maya tried.

Rudi entered carrying two more pistols and placed one in front of her. “Might want to clean it. Doesn’t look like it’s in particularly good shape, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

She fieldstripped it with efficiency and frowned. “It’s certainly seen its share of abuse. How many spare magazines?”

“Only one each. We were lucky to even get that. Let’s hope we don’t have to use them. I gather you met Saul?”

Maya nodded.

Rudi explained that Peter was still in place, hiding in a grove of trees by the road that led to the farmhouse. They hadn’t seen any traffic going to the dwelling since they’d taken up watch that morning, and their contact had assured them that their target had been inside all night.

“Who is he?” Maya asked.

Saul gave her his dead stare. “A bad guy.”

Rudi shrugged. “Sorry. It’s all about need to know. But Saul here is right – he’s a bad one.”

Maya finished her cleaning project, checking each bullet as she reloaded the magazine, and then slid it into place, taking care to chamber a round before setting the safety and decocking the gun. Saul watched her without comment as Rudi did the same with his weapon and slid it into his belt, pocketing the extra magazine. Rudi went into the dimly lit living room and returned with a Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun that looked like it had been dragged behind a car all the way from Jerusalem. Breaking it down and cleaning it only took him a matter of minutes, and when he was done, he stood, checked the time, and nodded.

“Let’s get to it. I want to be in position within ten minutes.”

Saul scowled and gave a curt grunt before walking to the door. Rudi looked at Maya. “You ride with me. I don’t want Saul to talk your ear off.”

Saul made for a dented Suzuki SUV, and Maya and Rudi got into the big Yukon. “When we get there, your only job is to stay out of sight and keep watch, all right? Peter has a phone, and if you see anyone coming, you’re to call me, not engage. Am I clear?”

“I got it. Smile and look pretty and let the men do all the work.”

“I’d say it’s more like you should let the experienced agents do the work, rookie.”

“Right.”

The farmhouse was on a rural road, and Saul and Rudi both killed their lights before nearing it, using the moonlight to guide them the rest of the way. Rudi pulled to a halt fifty yards before a gravel road veered off to the right, and Saul pulled past it and used his emergency brake to stop without illuminating his taillights. When they got out, she could barely make out what she presumed was Peter standing by a copse of scraggly trees. Rudi and Maya crept over to him, and he made a murmured introduction.

“Peter. Theresa. Any signs of life?”

Peter shook his head. “Negative. Lights went off almost three hours ago. It’s been dark since.”

“Traffic?”

“Only a few cars on the road. Nothing for the last half hour.”

“Okay. You know the drill. Stay put, and only call if someone shows up. Saul and I are going in.”

Saul approached from down the road, his steps nearly silent even on the gravel, and after checking to verify that his phone was on vibrate, he and Rudi slipped into the night, leaving Peter and Maya alone, only the sound of an occasional distant car on the highway marring the tranquility. Maya slid her pistol out and fingered the trigger guard as Peter eyed the farmhouse.