THE BROTHERHOOD (12 page)

‘If I was, darling, you would know about it. I specialised in counterterrorism back in the old days, as you know. The inside info on all this stuff came to me firsthand. It’s nothing new. In fact, I doubt it’s a great secret anymore. Just google it and you’ll find all sorts of stuff. Take a look at the funds and their sources.’ He pointed to the notes. ‘I’ve marked as many as I could find that don’t add up. Check the transaction trail and where the money ends up.’

‘Christ, how many are there?’ Janelle’s eyes widened as she followed the trail and realised the significance of it all. There must have been hundreds of millions of dollars being ‘cleaned’ illegally. ‘These are all names of dodgy Islamic groups,’ she said. ‘They’re all fronts. You think they’re terrorist funds?’

‘Not all of them. Some are NGOs like the High Crescent of Mahdi. They establish in hotspots like Afghanistan and Kosovo, providing food and blankets to refugees, but they’ve been known to smuggle weapons and ammunition to hostile forces.’

‘How did you make the connection?’ Janelle asked.

‘Their financial backer is Yusanti el-Masri, the son of a wealthy Saudi sheik. He was once photographed with Bin Laden’s right-hand man. That’s how I realised this wasn’t just a corrupt business dealing with money laundering.’

He handed her a green folder from the safe. ‘Now take a look at this list. I ran a few record checks on those businesses for links to crime syndicates. At first I found nothing. So I dusted off my little black book of phone numbers and called in favours from old friends. Don’t ask. I know it’s against protocol. I sent faxes to MI6, CIA, CSIS and even Interpol. By far the CIA has the largest database and some colourful names were sent back to me.’

As she read the list Janelle’s mouth fell open and she looked at Bill in disbelief. Each business name in the notes was cross-referenced with a known criminal element, a syndicate, a political faction, corrupt governments and terrorist organisations. The last was the most extensive and also where most of the funds were concentrated.

‘Sorry, but I’ll have to confirm this myself, Bill.’

‘Oh, I hope you do, Janelle. I’m counting on it.’

He gave her a moment to read through the list and take in the enormity of his findings. Some of the world’s most dangerous organisations were implicated: the Algerian AFF, a splinter group of the notorious GIA, albeit not as violent as its predecessor; the Egyptian Islamic Jihad and al-Gama’a Islamia, known for car bombings and targeting US interests in Egypt with a goal of overthrowing the Egyptian government and replacing it with an Islamic state. A few Iraqi groups were there too, such as Abu Nidal (ANO); the Islamic Resistance Movement; Pakistan’s Harakat Ul-Ansar, a movement to unite Kashmir with Pakistan; and of course al-Qaeda. The detailed list contained each organisation’s strength in numbers, main activities, goals, operational locations, affiliations and dates last active, some going back two decades.

‘Are you sure you can trust this Aazim guy? How do you know he’s not leading you on?’ Janelle asked.

‘I’ve checked him out and I know he’s telling the truth. Aazim’s old man is in Lebanon at the moment and I ran a thorough check on him too. He was on the run with a pregnant wife just before Lebanon erupted into war. Threatening messages came from Palestinian factions when they campaigned against their presence in Lebanon. Aazim’s mother was killed in a hit-and-run not long ago and the driver was never caught. Some powerful people were pissed off and the couple nearly paid with their lives. I wouldn’t be surprised if these guys are hunting him down as we speak just to settle an old grudge. The PLO was on their funding list too. Aazim’s done a good job of staying alive but I get the feeling he should’ve been dead a long time ago.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Organisations like The Brotherhood have long tentacles. Sam implied to Aazim that they’re well protected so we have to prevent possible leaks. Minimum agent involvement, create a small crack team of your own.’

‘An insider? Who with? The feds? It can’t be us.’ Janelle was beginning to feel very naive.

‘I don’t know yet.’ Bill held back from making assumptions. He worked with proof and until he got it anyone was a suspect. The informant had access to vital information that could jeopardise their evidence.

‘Okay, Bill, what’s on your mind? You have to leave the arrests to us, you know that. I can’t have you chasing fanatics like a crazed reporter.’ She was pre-empting his intentions and he knew it.

‘You’re telling me to stay out of it? Sam didn’t hire me by coincidence, Janelle. He came to me because someone told him to and I want to know why.’

‘Barry will never approve it, you know that.’

Barry, the deputy director of ASIO’s investigation department, was Janelle’s superior and responsible for rubber-stamping all field operations. Once the go-ahead was approved the strike team would be formed, and she was itching for some action. Barry had been favoured as the next director-general of security back in Bill’s day, when Barry was a manager of counterintelligence and security. After twenty-five years of service, the incumbent director-general had been due for retirement and Barry Donovan and Rodney Blunt were the top candidates to replace him, a position very much sought after as the director’s boss was the attorney general and not the prime minister. Agents called it the ‘retirement chair’: after being a director the next step was retirement or moving on to a political role.

Barry’s chances at the chair faded with the Indonesia scandal that Bill had sparked. Officially the covert operation was nonexistent, so a public investigation couldn’t be mounted and no one was made accountable for the high number of casualties that could have been prevented. Unofficially, it was a black mark on Barry’s record, as he was the one who had authorised it and pulled the plug. He was encouraged to withdraw his candidacy, avoid a future public inquiry and salvage what reputation he had left. After that there was no more room for Bill in ASIO or any other government agency: Barry saw to it personally and eventually Bill found himself unemployed.

‘Is that arrogant prick still around?’ Bill said. ‘Convince him. We have a chance here to uncover their whole operation and how they establish themselves. We can’t just stop at Sam, we have to get to the entire Brotherhood,’ Bill urged.

She knew he was right. They had to move fast with a major figure like Saeed. ‘That won’t be easy. You’re not exactly on Barry’s favourites list, more like his target-practice list.’

‘Yeah, I love him too, but he wouldn’t miss this opportunity, I guarantee it. A coup like this could give him another shot at the director’s chair.’

‘How did you get so fired up with all this?’

Bill grinned. ‘Oh, you know me, queen and country and all that.’

‘Hah! We’re not England and you’re not James Bond.’

‘There’s a kid out there who risked his life for this stuff, Janelle, whether he knew it at the time or not. He could’ve turned and looked the other way, kept typing on his keyboard, jerking off over cool software and whingeing about his latest smartphone. But he didn’t and he’s lucky we got to him first.’ Bill had another reason and it knew it was a selfish one: here was a chance to be part of something again and make a difference. He was tired of his desultory life and of drinking himself to sleep.

Bill emptied his glass and the conversation died down, reaching an awkward silence.

Janelle sighed. ‘I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise you anything.’

‘Thanks, partner,’ he said, grinning. It was just like the old days where she backed him up and hopped on for the ride.

Janelle grabbed the printouts and he saw her to the door. He looked at his watch. Shit! It was already midday.

Chapter 13

‘
Assalamu alaikum
, brother. I’m glad you called. I hope you are well.’

‘I’m fine, Sam.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘I want this whole thing over with and I’m ready to make a deal with you,’ Aazim said. It was midday and he’d finally worked up the courage to make the call.

‘Straight to the point, hey? You know, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. What have you been up to all this time? I’ve been looking for you.’

‘Yes, I know. I saw what you did to my apartment … and neighbour.’ Aazim was using a public phone outside his motel and maintained a watchful eye in all directions.

‘It’s unfortunate it has to come to this,’ Sam said. ‘I dislike resorting to violent measures but my men had no choice. I hope you realise the gravity of the situation, Aazim. Where are you staying?’

‘How about we discuss the databases?’

‘Please,’ Sam answered, mildly annoyed.

‘I want money for it. You get what you want, I’ll disappear and your secret stays safe.’

‘And what secret is that?’

‘You know what I’m talking about, Sam. Aust Global Fund is being used for money laundering and you don’t want clients with such portfolios to be inconvenienced.’

‘This information you claim to have, how do I know you haven’t already passed it on to someone?’

‘If I had you’d know by now, wouldn’t you? You have friends in high places. You said so yourself.’

‘How much money do you want, Aazim?’ Sam hadn’t flinched and didn’t seem surprised by the sudden demand.

‘I want a million dollars cash and I want assurances that you will stay away from my father,’ Aazim said firmly. The line went silent. Aazim feared he’d stuffed things up and anxiety gripped him once again.

‘That’s a lot of money, Aazim.’

‘You have plenty of it. In fact, I know exactly how much you have.’

‘Impressive. I never knew you had it in you. I would even say it’s not like you,’ Sam said, betraying a tone of anger.

‘I’m a quick learner.’

‘I’ll have to clear it with the partners first.’

‘Do what you have to do. I want you there alone and if I see any of those guys you had at the office I’m gone and you can pick up your databases from the police,’ Aazim said, his heart banging loudly in his chest.

‘I’ll send someone else to make the exchange. Don’t be afraid, it won’t be my men. He’s just a hired hand for this job.’

‘No way. I’m dealing with you or no one.’ Aazim waited for a response. He was afraid Sam would see right through the false bravado but he had leverage and Sam knew it.

Sam sighed. ‘Okay, Aazim, we’ll do it your way.’

‘Tonight at midnight and I want cash in unmarked bills. I’ll call you exactly one hour before twelve and I’ll give you my location.’ Nice touch, he thought to himself.

‘I’m looking forward to it. Tell me, brother, what will you do with all that money?’

‘You let me worry about that.’ Aazim hung up and fell on the bed, finally taking a breath. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

Things were once again getting under way, but Sam had underestimated Aazim’s ability to remain out of reach and suspected someone else’s involvement. He hastily arranged a meeting with the insider while making his way into the city, choosing the first cafe he could find with a discreet corner table. There was no time for the comfortable ambience he usually sought. His immaculate Armani suit made him stand out among a crowd of casually dressed uni students who seemed too preoccupied with their conversations to take any notice of him. Fashion was one thing Sam loved about the West: he spared no expense when it came to Italian shoes, Bulgari cufflinks and a wardrobe full of top-quality business shirts. He loosened his tie and let out a deep breath, contemplating the situation while waiting for his long black to arrive.

The problem was under control and the alternative option was still possible. He wondered whether Bill had taken a little too much interest in the job he’d been offered. It seemed he hadn’t hesitated. It wouldn’t matter. The man was disposable and would soon become part of the solution. Sam had neglected to inform The Brotherhood of the actual data Aazim had downloaded. As far as they were concerned it was a matter of business-critical databases, which would themselves have great financial implications if customer information ended up in the wrong hands. Had they known what Aazim really possessed, The Brotherhood for Justice would be shaken to the core. Their entire worldwide funding was at stake and Sam was well aware of the repercussions if his plan didn’t work.

Sam had told The Brotherhood about Rami’s unfortunate demise and asked them to arrange a new messenger. No questions had been asked about his tragic passing, but The Brotherhood had raised concerns about the ongoing problem of missing employees. Sam assured them it was all under control, and his word was all that was needed as no one doubted the competence of a senior member like him.

A tall, heavyset figure walked into the cafe: the insider. The man was wearing an ivory trench coat, a porkpie brim hat and a slim black tie over a stained white shirt. He reminded Sam of a stereotypical detective character from a cheap novel; he didn’t think people dressed like that anymore.

The man slowly made his way towards Sam’s table, surveying the surroundings and looking distastefully at the young crowd. Sam watched as he grabbed a passing waitress by the elbow and ordered a JD on the rocks, threw the hat on the table and sat down on the opposite seat. Money doesn’t buy you class and this man is a perfect example, Sam thought, wondering where all those kickback dollars went. Gambling was one guess: on a number of occasions they’d had meetings at the Flemington Racecourse, where Sam would leave him cursing a losing horse.

‘Fuckin’ kids, couldn’t you find somewhere quieter?’ the man growled.

Sam ignored the remark and got down to business. ‘Aazim finally called and the exchange has been arranged. It’s on tonight at midnight and he wants me to be there alone.’

‘It’s about time,’ the insider snorted.

‘And it seems he’s been transformed from a scared little boy to a confident dealer, reciting demands as though he had them written down.’

‘Bill,’ the insider said flatly as the waitress set down his drink.

‘Was it wise to involve him?’ Sam asked.