Massive Attack (A Guy Niava Thriller Book 1) by Dana Arama (e reader for manga .txt) 📗

“I am capable of anything Gordon is capable of. I was a combat fighter in the field for a longer period of time than he was, my grades were better than his, I am able to relate to people, also because of my personality and I smell here,” I put a finger to my nose, “discrimination of the kind no congresswoman would like.”

“I don’t like the threat you’re implying.”

“Who is threatening? For years we have been told that there is no gender discrimination and I stand here before you and point out your policies here. Prove me wrong. Put me on this case.” I adopted a little smile, half tempting and added, “Please.”

“No,” he answered with determination. “Gordon will stay in charge on behalf of the office, but I am prepared to diversify your job.”

“I’m listening.”

“The kidnapped boy’s relative is asking to join the investigation. He has connections to the highest places in the Mossad -- so high that I was asked if I could help him find Zorro. I am prepared to let you help him.”

“To be a babysitter once again?”

He smiled. “Yes, in a way, because I expect you to help him on the Zorro matter, but I also want you to find out what he knows about the case and everything he is hiding from us. I believe that there is a much bigger story behind this kidnapping. I want you to prevent him from leaving the country and from roaming around freely, to keep an eye on him.” He pushed a blue and white file that lay on his desk towards me. “I want you to make sure that he doesn’t leave a trail of bodies behind him.”

“Is he a Mossad agent?” I asked, with raised eyebrows.

“Officially? No. I was told that he is recuperating from a personal trauma. A few years ago, his wife was killed in a terrorist attack in Jerusalem and since then he hasn’t been able to get over the tragedy. He traveled in Europe for a few years and for the last couple of months has been living here, with his brother.” His finger remained on the blue and white file. “Unofficially, I believe that he is still working for them and that the story about his wife is a cover story.”

“The Mossad doesn’t work…” I wanted to say that the Mossad doesn’t dare work in our jurisdiction, but between doesn’t dare and the Pollard affair there was a questionable diplomatic gap.

He raised his finger threateningly, but very quickly he softened the gesture with a smile. “This isn’t just any babysitting job, as you called it. I expect to receive information without diplomatic stories.” Then he announced, as if reading my thoughts, “It isn’t easy working opposite the Israeli Mossad. They have the tendency to push their people into the midst of any affair, they share information selectively and misleading in general, they don’t trust anyone. This is a situation that I won’t allow. Our agreement with the Israelis doesn’t allow them to work independently on American soil. Everything has to be authorized by us and to remain within American authorities. If they want part of the action, they have to go through the regular diplomatic channels. United States soil is out of bounds for them, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered sincerely and humbly.

“Because you were fool enough to insist on this case,” he said, “You are going to get it.”

I took the file from him and opened it. The first photograph was of the kidnapped boy. The second picture was of a young, impressive-looking guy and the third was of two Arabs, a young man and a woman, in a lobby of a hotel. A long text compiled from different sources was attached to this photograph, along with a disc-on-key that probably had a film from one of the security cameras somewhere.

“Try and find information about this affair, the one that appears on the disc-on-key. If you manage to connect him to this, Israel will owe us one, owe us big time.” My boss got up from his seat and went over to the coffee machine. As an afterthought he added, “I didn’t like your threat…didn’t like it at all. I don’t like being threatened, not even when it’s just implied. If you foul up in this case, you will find yourself out of this department.”

***

The first team started working in the middle of the night, directly after receiving the first news item about the terrorist group which had been playing in our front yard. A few hours later, the second news item came in, the mysterious disappearance of the person who found out the information about the group. Then the second team was established.

Both teams were supposed to work side by side and I was supposed to receive information from both of them. Because the subject was sensitive and the data received was sensitive as well, I was supposed to decipher and decide which information would be passed over to the Israeli side and which information remained solely American and therefore would remain privileged. The FBI teams didn’t quite like the fact that the information they had managed to obtain would be leaked to an external factor, but it wasn’t every day that the son of an Israeli scientist is kidnapped. Not just an Israeli scientist but one with close connections to the Israeli Mossad. As such, I was like a diplomatic thorn in their tight butt.

The hall on the fourth floor was packed with chairs. This was a big and complicated affair and many security personnel were going to participate. The small hall couldn’t contain everyone. There was a coffee machine on the side counter. I walked over there and poured myself a cup. Half a cup was enough. I knew many pairs of masculine eyes were staring at me at this moment. It was good. This was one