Tsunami Connection (16 page)

"This is a time sensitive file."

The spotter nodded. Kefira left without saying anything to
Michael and went up to the wheelhouse and started the engine. They needed a
more secluded location to complete their work. She had scouted around on her
bike when she took a break from Michael and found just the place.

About an hour later, they arrived at an isolated boat dock
and garage, near a summerhouse that was obviously closed for the winter season.
Kefira made sure that the GPS was working on her motorcycle and forwarded her
location via satellite. She also sent an encrypted email to Zak, detailing her
progress. The spotter doused MacAuley with cold water after removing his
blanket. He was very groggy but a few hard slaps woke him up. He looked around
at his surroundings and started cursing through the gag when he focused on his
sister.

The spotter slipped the rubber ball gag back into her mouth
and took out a bottle of cooking oil and slowly poured it over Michael's milk
white shoulders. His hands rubbed her breasts and he uttered threats about what
he was planning to do now that he was alone with her. MacAuley strained at his
bindings. The spotter slapped the woman across the face and pinched her nipple.
Her gag was preventing her from screaming, but she was blue in the face with anger.
The veins on her temple and neck were bulging.

"Even though this is hot work, maybe I should close
that window," he said, as he faced the woman, leaving his back to
MacAuley.

His hands went down between her legs and she squirmed,
trying to resist his fingers. MacAuley, behind him, was straining hard at his
bonds when Kefira came silently back into the room and put the burlap sack over
his head. She could hear Michael saying, "Keffy, Keffy, no, no."
Kefira reached around his neck and whispered into his ear.

"It is just starting. Take this paper in your hand. If
you want to stop us, just drop it on the floor."

When MacAuley held onto the paper, Kefira knew she was
making progress. She had found the key to his cooperation. The spotter
continued to force himself on Michael. She struggled and MacAuley strained his
bonds, actually breaking one of his legs free. Kefira quickly secured his leg
again, this time with two tie wraps on each extremity and a large rope that she
had found in a tool shed at the bow of the boathouse around his chest. MacAuley
listened through his mask, the not seeing making his struggle more intense.

Kefira came up behind him again. She told him she would
administer a chemical in his sister's eye that would make her permanently
blind. He shook his head violently.

"If you are willing to talk, throw down the
paper."

He did nothing. Kefira took off the mask and walked around
him to stop the spotter. He told her to hold Michael's head back. The spotter
wrapped a towel around her neck and forced the woman's head back. Kefira took
out a syringe. She sucked some of the liquid from the packet she had retrieved
from her motorcycle's secret compartment. There was a strong smell of solvent
in the air. MacAuley did not know that the smell was caused by a bucket of
deck-cleaning bleach that she had just uncovered behind him while he was
concentrating on his sister. Kefira lifted the syringe and put a finger on her
lips, facing MacAuley. He quieted down.

"I will fill her eye with this liquid. In the second
syringe, I have an antidote. You will have a maximum of thirty minutes to save
your sister's eyesight. If you say nothing, she will be blind in one eye. Do
you understand Mister MacAuley? Her vision is in your power. Just drop the
paper and I will administer the antidote."

Kefira filled Michael's eye with the liquid. She then
removed Michael's gag. "Tell him, my Irish wraith."

Michael shrieked and said she could not see anything. Then
she looked at her lover with loathing in her good eye.

"You used me, just like all those others. You could
never do this if you loved me."

"In the beginning, it was business, but I started to
feel for you. Now there are larger issues at stake. I need information on his
work." MacAuley dropped the paper.

Kefira carefully removed his mask, but first she anticipated
his probable strategy. She took another towel and asked the spotter to hold
MacAuley's head back, too. She filled one of his eyes with the liquid as well.
When his vision darkened, he started to believe Kefira. She then removed his
gag.

"Who do you work for, bitch?"

"Mossad."

Now he really felt she was telling the truth.

"Give 'er the 'feckin' antidote. I'll talk in exchange
for her freedom. I have grown tired of this game. In years in the business,
credit where it is due … you're the first to read me, lassie."

"She'll get it when you talk, not before. The clock is
ticking on her eyesight."

"Brother
Meehawl
. This is me, your
Deryfur
who can't see," shouted Michael.

"Haven't I always taken care of you?" asked MacAuley.

"Damn your calm. It's my eye, my sight."

"She did mine as well. I know what you feel and
see."

Kefira had to take charge of the situation. MacAuley was
mustering Michael's strength. Before he could say more, she motioned for the
gag to go back in his mouth. The spotter complied, but MacAuley bit his thumb
before he could place the rubber ball. Kefira bent over him and touched his
neck with the ring. MacAuley's head dropped down. Michael looked at Kefira
through her good eye that had started tearing in a sympathetic reaction to the
problems induced in the other eye. Kefira realized she could not go through
with it. She stepped toward her lover and introduced an eyewash that cleared
Michael's sight. Kefira then leaned over Michael and whispered in her ear.

"It was a trick, love. Your sight was never at risk. It
seems I don't have the stomach for this kind of game. Your brother there got
the upper hand. He'll sleep for a few hours now. I'll leave the dirty work to
my colleagues. I let my impatience cloud my judgment," said Kefira, more
aloud and to herself than to anyone in specific.

"Untie me, Keffy."

"Would that it was so simple."

Kefira leaned over her and touched her skin behind her neck
with the ring. Michael became a lump almost instantly. Kefira clipped the tie
wraps around Michael's arms and signaled to the spotter to come and help her.
She also turned off the camera and was about to erase the incriminating
evidence of her poor judgment when the spotter snatched the camera from
Kefira's hands.

"I think we might need a record of that little
fiasco," he said as he opened the camera and slipped the film into a
zippered pocket on his jacket.

The zipper closing made a final sound and Kefira shrugged a
feigned indifference. She knew that the spotter had to protect his own career;
besides, she was certain that success was what would matter in this case, not
details. MacAuley was still in her custody and Zak was on the way. Nothing had
been lost other than face.

"Help me with this one, will you? I am going to clip
her ties and attach her to the bed with this rope. That's it. I want to attach
her legs with ties again, but together this time."

"Like this
?
" asked the
spotter, more at ease now as he had something to do.

"No. I want to cover her legs with a cloth so we can
tie them tighter without damaging her."

"I didn't know we were worried about their well being
here," said the spotter sarcastically, taking on a controlling tone of
voice similar to the manner of MacAuley earlier on.

Kefira turned to the spotter, grew some balls, and drew the
ceramic blade from under her upper arm. Her next move was pure Capoeira. She
ended up behind the spotter with her hand cutting his skin just near his
jugular. He froze, knowing he was out of his depth.

"You will go back to spotting now, if you value your
life. Your role is clearer there," said Kefira as she dug the ceramic
blade a little deeper into his neck, while she unzipped his jacket pocket and
removed the video tape.

"Wait! You can't do that. That'll make me the fall guy
if you remove any of the recordings."

"Trust me. Have you ever heard of the spear?"

"Everyone's heard of the spear, but it's more like a
legend."

"Well, now you've met her. Go outside. When we arrive
back at the dock, find your perfect spot again, and do your job. We have less
than twelve hours to wait until the whole team arrives," said Kefira,
asserting control and reassuring the spotter at the same time.

"Sir," snapped the spotter, saluting her crisply
because there was no one to see it.

He left the room and went onto the boat deck. Kefira sat
beside her sleeping lover and doubted her resolve for the first time in her
career with Mossad. Her actions had risked her safety and the success of the
mission. She removed a lock of hair from Michael's eyes. Her sleep looked so
peaceful. Kefira wondered if parents felt this way when they watched their
sleeping children.
Terrorists have families that love them
, reflected
Kefira. She knew now that she felt protective of Michael, despite her
duplicitous history of treachery with MacAuley in the past. Somehow, she had
let the political activist into her heart. Their relationship had conflicted
Kefira. She was grateful that Zak would be here.
He would be able to judge
how to resolve the problem
, she thought, as she got up and moved to the
wheelhouse room in the foredeck. She walked out the same door as the spotter.

"Watch them. I'm going to take us back to the original
dock."

Kefira steered the boathouse away from the hidden dock after
she asked the spotter to cast off the lines. The engine started on the second
try, after some adjustments to the choke. Activity relieved some of the
unresolved tension in her heart, permitting her to plan with more peace of
mind. It was only fifty minutes back to the slip where she had first seen the
boathouse. The spotter secured all of the lines and disappeared without a word.
Kefira put the burlap over MacAuley's head and then went to lie beside her
lover. She did not embrace her unconscious form; instead, Kefira set her watch
alarm for ninety minutes and passed out cold.

March 12, 2012

The Learjet easily seated the four
of them and their electronic gear because the set-up crew had removed four
seats. Zak conversed with Sam at Mossad headquarters on an ultra-secure
satellite connection, and Sam informed Zak that he had included some scuba gear
with rebreathers in case the team had to approach the houseboat by water. The
two of them shared screens and Sam showed Zak a streaming feed dedicated to the
houseboat.

"Even if MacAuley finds the homing device inside the
front tire of the Ducati, we have him now on visual. The boat is still tied up
at the dock and we have her phone on GPS, approaching Tigre. They should arrive
at the dock in about twenty minutes," said Sam.

"She's going to be alone with that pig for at least
eighteen hours before I can get there. I knew I shouldn't have let her
go," interjected Zak.

"I told you not to get involved that first day when she
gave the Capoeira demonstration. Besides, it wasn't your call. She knew what
she was getting into. No one knew her instincts would win out. She was the only
one to insist that he would go to Buenos Aires. Moreover, I put someone from
the embassy on the ground, a spotter. She's not alone," added Sam.

Zak was trying to figure out how Kefira decided to go to
Buenos Aires to look for MacAuley. All the evidence suggested that he was in
Asia, especially because of a fluke coincidence. The CIA had spotted the back
of a tall foreigner during controlled drone flyovers of Aceh Province, after
the Russian-made tsunami struck.

The USS Ronald Reagan, at that moment, was coordinating
search and rescue in the devastated area. The carrier group had arrived on
scene in a very timely manner and had gotten unlimited access to the area in a
bid to operate a serious humanitarian effort. The carrier's global
repositioning now seemed uncanny to some observers, and the good being done
covered perfectly for the clandestine and darker side of the mission; namely,
the identification of the whereabouts of mujahedeen fighters in Aceh Province.

For some years, since September 11 and the collapse of the
World Trade Center Towers at Ground Zero in New York City, various anti-western
fundamentalist groups had been sending fighters to training camps in Indonesia,
especially in Aceh Province, one the oldest bulwarks of Islam in Asia. Despite
all the advanced technology focusing on following these fighters, they seemed
to vanish into the jungle in Sumatra. On the ground, the environment was not
favorable to penetration and had resulted in the deaths of many agents that had
tried to investigate.

The tsunami now gave American Black Hawk helicopters and
Navy Seals unlimited access. The Seals discovered, as they undertook serious
humanitarian aid, as well as search and rescue, a network of underground
tunnels under Aceh Province, much the same way tunnels under the demilitarized
zone between North and South Korea or in Vietnam were part of war there. Many
of these underground constructions were concrete, protecting the fighters even
from the havoc wreaked by the tsunami. Some of the fighters were less
fortunate. After the waves passed, drones and helicopters found fighters
literally coming up for air from less well-built caverns and passageways. The
storm wave spread their bodies amongst the dead. Only their obviously non-Indonesian
origins set them apart. In addition, some of the bodies were holding
Kalashnikovs or other assault weapons not common amongst the local population.

One flyover mission included a drone and a low flying Black
Hawk. The cameras recorded a Western man, judging by his build and size
compared to the locals, coming out of a tunnel. The man looked like MacAuley
from behind, but there was no frontal view to confirm the likeness, only a
profile.

"Come in, Rescue Command. Request permission to pick up
target in current film."

"What's your fuel status?"

"We'll be on fumes when we return."

"Negative that request. High tail it on the double.
Repeat! Do not risk 'copter. Overall mission paramount."

Zak looked at the film again. He thought of his connection
in the CIA and wondered if she had been set up somehow. He made a mental note
to warn her in their next communication. The only way these films could have
been released was if there had been a leak at the CIA. His double was at risk
because she was at the meeting where information was shared. Inter-agency
rivalry went to great lengths to discredit competing groups, even after
executive orders had forced the agencies to cooperate. Nevertheless, Zak could
not see why Kefira had insisted that the picture was too convenient. She had
gone on to say she did not trust coincidences. They were too convenient. Her
gut reaction won the day. In fact, it was not MacAuley.

Ever vigilant and devious, MacAuley had, over the years,
often hired someone to go to Aceh wearing a rubber mask in his likeness. As
well, MacAuley had hired a bodyguard for his look-alike to be certain that the
double performed his task. The ruse was to distract anyone who was interested
in MacAuley, leaving him free to get on with other important tasks; in this
instance, a meeting with the Russian oligarch who had hired him to check up on
the success of the weapons development program on the stolen Akula attack
submarine.

MacAuley had links in the Russian government's hierarchy.
These double agents provided copies of all of the Akula's communications for an
exorbitant price. Since MacAuley always paid, he was privy to top-secret
information that even the oligarch could not obtain. After all, the old Secret
Service, the KGB, or more recently the FSB, still needed to know the
whereabouts of its Russian submarines, even rogue submarines. Information was
power.

While the world thought MacAuley was in Aceh, Sumatra, he
was actually elsewhere getting this pricey information to his supposed Russian
controller, the oligarch. The highly destructive weapon had been tested and
succeeded. As usual, MacAuley was going to ground and no one knew where. As yet
unknown to him, for the first time in his long career, someone had outwitted
him. The spear, Kefira, had the upper hand and an ace-in-the-hole. Zak did not
know about Kefira's secret advantage, Michael, the lesbian, because Kefira had
withheld information about the intensity of her connection to MacAuley's
sister.

Zak's new team was fast asleep all around him in the Learjet.
They were all in their mid-twenties, eager, highly-strung, but green.
Everything in the beginning would have to go through him. He knew their
training was impeccable, but reality sometimes dealt unexpected cards. Before
going to sleep, they had all gone over the present location of the houseboat on
satellite images. Possible scenarios were hard to concoct. As well, they had
HUMINT from a source on the ground that had visuals on the dock and houseboat.

Meanwhile in Tigre, the noise of a passing boat motor,
combined with an increase in the rocking motion of the houseboat, gently awoke
Kefira about seventy-five minutes after her failure in trying to use trickery
to seduce information out of MacAuley. She got up and brewed coffee while soft
boiling eggs. Her prisoners were still under the influence of her knockout
formula.

A quick meal of warm rolled oats with nuts gave her some
energy. A space-limited version of her Capoeira exercises followed, giving her
much needed calm and balance. After her exercises, she sat down to meditate,
but MacAuley was stirring. She knew he would need to use the washroom and his
use of a pre-arranged communication method confirmed her hunch. She saw his
five fingered gesture and removed one of his earplugs.

"There's a bucket under your chair. Do your business
there," said Kefira.

She left the room for a minute after looking at Michael, who
was still fast asleep, lying on her side. On her return, she emptied MacAuley's
bucket and cleaned it in the river water. The constipation caused by the
opiate-based knockout drugs made her task slightly easier.

Kefira came back and lifted MacAuley's burlap mask somewhat
over his mouth, while ignoring his attempt to speak around his gag. She gave
him water via a tube and a squeeze bottle, forced into his mouth beside the
rubber ball in his muzzle. His displeasure was obvious, but understandable. The
man was a master of such situations and Kefira knew she must not give him the
upper hand again. She settled down to several hours of waiting, after plugging
his ears to deprive him of sound orientation again. The hours passed drearily
and were occupied by the mundane aspects of taking care of prisoners.

Movement near the houseboat alerted Kefira. A car door
closed, and then someone crossed the gunwale and knocked on the entrance
window. Zak's voice set her hands to shaking for an instant. The stress of the
hours of vigilance had taken their toll.

"You can't imagine how happy I am to see you,"
said Zak, as he embraced Kefira.

"That's an understatement. We've gotta go to the
vehicle. I have to fill you in on some troubling aspects of this
situation."

"I'll just get everyone to a task. The van is there.
Here're the keys."

Kefira stretched and walked to the van. Zak followed shortly
after. The vehicle was a non-descript, beige, Ford minivan with tinted windows.
A friend of a friend lent it to the embassy for undercover work. Zak had picked
it up at the airport parking lot.

"So."

"I fucked up on two counts."

"Don't be too hard on yourself."

"Anyway, here is a video of my blundered attempt to
outwit MacAuley. He got the better of me."

"What matters is that we still have him. We'll get it
out of him. How did you get both of them?"

"That's the second problem. I seduced the sister."

"I knew that."

"What you didn't know was that I fell in love with
her."

"What?"

"You heard me. You'll see it on the tape. Now I need
some air. I am going to go for a ride."

"You'll do nothing of the kind."

"I am still commanding officer here," asserted
Kefira.

"'Fraid not. Look here," said Zak as he produced a
small secure phone that was playing a video of Sam.

"You bastard!" said Kefira, letting all of the
stress of the day out in her vehemence.

"We got a message from the spotter stating that you
were buckling under from the stress. You told him you were the spear. As well,
he said you threatened him."

"All true. I used my judgment and I got over-confident
because I had MacAuley. I told you I blew it."

"I can't have you running around the city on your
bike."

"Shoot me in the back," she said as she opened the
door to the van and made her way to the tarp on the deck of the houseboat.

"This isn't exactly the meeting I was expecting,"
said Zak to her back.

"You have me on GPS on the Streetfighter. I just have
to clear my head out. Besides, I am a liability in there. Just get results and
I will be back within half an hour of your contact."

Zak acquiesced, turned, and went back into the van to watch
the video of Kefira's ill-fated interrogation of MacAuley. As he watched, he
tried to repress his emotions about her.
What exactly did she mean by saying
she fell in love with the sister?
thought Zak. He had to put those thoughts
out of his mind.
Compartmentalize, compartmentalize
, reflected Zak, as
he suppressed his feelings.

The video spoke for itself. Kefira was a liability in there
now. It was better that she had left. Breaking Zak's train of thought, a young
woman who looked remarkably like Sarah, the agent they had lost in North
Hatley, Quebec, knocked on the van door. Zak snickered to himself and relished
the task at hand.

"You have an uncanny resemblance to someone I used to
know," said Zak as he opened the door to admit Tahila.

"I get that a lot. What's on the video?"

"Need to know."

"Next question. How are we going to proceed?"

"We are going to apply methods that do them no physical
harm, but take advantage of innate human reactions. Ordinarily, these
techniques would not work on a hardened case like MacAuley, but we have
evidence here on the video that he cares for the woman, his sister. We will
exploit that weakness. Go get her back on the other chair and I will join you
shortly."

Zak had studied painless torture techniques, but thought he
would possibly make an exception for MacAuley if he didn't succeed quickly. The
situation in Syria was roiling out of control and there was chatter about
Syrian rebels gaining access to liberated weapons of mass destruction. Israel
had to know about the whereabouts of those weapons. They could not trust their
fate to an inestimable group of rebels in Syria. Just before deplaning, Sam had
called and put a twelve-hour time limit on information extraction. Zak did not
have time to worry about Kefira's existential problems.

"Let's get started," said Zak to his two new
recruits.

Both of the prisoners wore burlap head covers, earplugs, and
gags. Zak ordered his assistant to tie a tight rope around MacAuley's scrotum.
He tugged on it to get the man's attention. MacAuley sat up appropriately. Zak
then left him to ponder what was coming next. Zak then tied a rope around a
large rock and placed it in the prisoner's lap.

While simultaneously lifting the flat rock and the second
string around MacAuley's scrotum, the prisoner made an unseeing connection
between his scrotum and the rock in his lap. Zak then turned his attention to
the woman. She felt a pin prick in her left nipple, causing numbness in her now
erect nipple. One of the officers then made a circular swiping motion with a
very dull steel blade around the affected nipple. They spilt warmed cat's blood
on the woman's breast, simulating nipple excision.

Michael squirmed as the blade faked the loss of her nipple.
She screamed as the liquid coursed over her breast. After a few minutes, Zak
slowly cut open a flap over one eye of Michael's mask. He placed the altered
copy of a photo of her breast, without a nipple, in front of the woman's watery
eye. Michael was shaking. Zak then injected a pain enhancer just under the
nipple and covered the nipple with a rubberized representation of the surgical
removal.