Honour Among Thieves (44 page)

Great
news,’ said Kratz. ‘So where is it?’

The
news is not so great,’ said Scott.

‘What
do you mean?’ asked Kratz anxiously.

‘It’s
in the Council Chamber, exactly where Hannah said it would be. But it’s nailed
to the wall,’ replied Scott.

‘Nailed
to the wall?’ said Kratz under his breath.

‘Yes,
and it looks as if it’s beyond repair,’ said Scott, as he heard the crunch of a
gear shifting into place. He watched as the steel cords tightened, followed by
a raucous revving of the engine. But Madame Bertha refused to budge an inch.
The revving noise became even louder a second time, but she still remained
unmoved by their solicitations.

The
operator pushed the long gear lever forward another notch, and tried a third
time. Finally Bertha rose an inch off the back of the lorry, swaying gently
from side to side. Some of the soldiers started to cheer, but they stopped
immediately when the Major turned to stare in their direction.

Kratz
nodded and Cohen ran across the tarmac and lowered the tailboard, before
getting into the cab and jumping behind the wheel of the truck. He switched on
the engine, pushed the gear lever into first and moved the vehicle slowly
forward until the safe was left dangling in mid-air. Aziz and Kratz then pushed
the trolley a few yards across the tarmac so that it was directly below the
dangling safe, Kratz gave the thumbs-up a second time, and the crane operator slowly
began lowering the five tons of steel, inch by inch, until it came to rest on
the trolley, causing the large rubber wheels to compress abruptly.

The
safe now rested in front of the double doors, waiting for the carpenter to
arrive before it could progress on its inward journey. The Major shrugged his
shoulders even before Kratz had mouthed the question.

As
Cohen backed the lorry into a parking space designated by the Major, an Iraqi,
dressed in a dishdash and a red-and-white keffiyeh and carrying a tool bag
appeared at the barrier.

Once
the guards had thoroughly checked the tool bag, tipping all its contents out
onto the ground, they allowed him through. The carpenter gathered up his tools,
took one look at the safe, another at the double doors, and understood
immediately why his boss had described the problem as urgent. Scott stood back
and watched the craftsman as he began to unscrew the hinges on one of the
doors.

‘So
where’s Dollar Bill’s
counterfeit at the moment?’
asked Kratz.

‘Still
in my bag,’ said Scott. ‘I’m going to have to do some work on it, or they’ll
spot the difference the moment I’ve exchanged it for the original.’

‘Agreed,’
said Kratz. ‘You’d better get on with it while the carpenter’s working on the
door. I’ll try and keep the Major occupied.’

Kratz
sauntered over to the carpenter and started chatting to him while Scott
disappeared into the front of the truck carrying his bag. Once the Major saw
what Kratz was doing he ran across to join them.

Scott
stared through the cab window as he extracted Dollar Bill’s copy from the
cylinder and tried to recall where the main damage was on the original. First
he made a tear in the top right-hand corner, then he spat on the names of John
Adams and Robert Treat Paine. After he had studied his handiwork he decided he
hadn’t gone far enough and, placing the copy on the floor, he rubbed the soles
of his shoes gently over the surface. He glanced up to see the Major ordering
Kratz to let the carpenter get on with his job. Kratz shrugged his shoulders as
Scott rolled up the copy of the Declaration and returned it to the cylinder,
before sliding it down the specially-sewn long thin pocket on the inside of his
trouser leg. A perfect fit.

A
few moments later the carpenter got off his knees and smiled to show he had
completed his task. At the Major’s command four soldiers stepped forward and
removed the doors. They carried them a few paces away and leaned them up
against an outside wall.

The
Major ordered several more soldiers to push the trolley as Scott guided Madame
Bertha through the doorway. Kratz and Aziz tried to follow, but the Major waved
an arm firmly to indicate that only Scott could enter the building. It was
Scott’s turn to shrug his shoulders.

Inch
by inch, they eased the trolley down the long corridor. The lift doors had been
left open, but it still took forty hands to lever the five tons of metal safely
inside. Scott knew from his research that this part of the building had been
built to survive a nuclear attack, but he wondered if the lift would ever
recover from having to carry the five-ton safe down six floors. He was only
thankful that Madame Bertha was going down, not up.

The
lift doors slowly closed and the Major quickly led Scott through a side door
and down the back stairs, followed by a dozen soldiers. When they reached the
basement, the doors of the lift were already open and Madame Bertha stood
there, majestically waiting. The Major pointed to the floor with his swagger
stick: ten of the soldiers fell to their knees and began pulling the trolley
inch by inch until they finally managed to coax it into the corridor. The lift
was then sent up to – 5, and six of the soldiers ran back up the stairs, jumped
into the empty lift and returned to the basement so they could push the safe
from the other side.

The
carpenter had already removed the first set of doors they would encounter when
the safe entered the Council Chamber, but was still working on the second set
when the trolley reached the entrance. The delay gave Scott an opportunity to
supervise the moving of the large table up against the side wall and the
placing of the chairs on the table so that the safe would have a clear passage
into the far corridor.

As
he went back and forth Scott had several opportunities to stare at the
Declaration, even study the spelling of the word ‘Brittish’. He quickly
realised that the parchment was in an even worse condition than he had thought.

Once
the doors were finally removed, the soldiers began pushing the safe across the
Chamber and out into the short corridor on the last few yards of its journey.
When they had reached the end of the corridor opposite the specially prepared
recess, Scott supervised the last few inches of its move until they could push
the five tons of steel no further. Madame Bertha had finally come to her
resting place against the far wall.

Scott
smiled, and Major Saeed made another phone call.

The
old woman explained to Hannah that the next shift was to be at three o’clock
that afternoon, and they would be expected to have the Council Chamber ready
for the meeting that was to take place at six the following day. They hadn’t
been able to do a proper job on the first shift that morning because of that
safe.

Hannah
had followed the cleaners, watching as they peeled off one by one and went
their separate ways. She selected an old woman carrying the heaviest bags, and
offered to help her across the road. They quickly got into conversation, and
Hannah continued to carry the bags all the way to her front door, explaining
that she only lived a few streets away.

‘Come
inside, my dear,’ the old lady said.

‘Thank
you,’ replied Hannah, feeling more like the wolf than Little Red Riding Hood.

Slipping
a small whisky into the old woman’s coffee had proved harmless enough, and it
certainly loosened her tongue. Two Valium dropped in the cleaner’s second
coffee ensured that it would be several hours before she woke. Mossad had
taught Hannah five different ways of breaking into a car, a hotel room, a
briefcase, even a small safe, so a drugged old woman’s handbag was no great
challenge. She removed the special pass and slipped out of the house.

‘She’s
now heading back in the direction of the Ministry,’ said the voice into the
mobile phone. ‘We’ve checked the old woman. She passed out and probably won’t
come round until this time tomorrow. The only thing that’s been taken is her
security pass.’

When
Hannah arrived back at her desk there was no sign that the Deputy Foreign
Minister had returned, so she checked with the switchboard. There had only been
three calls: two said they would call back tomorrow, and the third didn’t leave
a message.

Hannah
replaced the handset and typed out a note explaining that she had gone home as
she wasn’t certain whether the Deputy Foreign Minister would be returning that
day. As long as he didn’t check his messages until after five o’clock, there
would be no reason for him to become suspicious.

In
the privacy of her little room, Hannah exchanged her office clothes for the traditional
black abaya with a pushi covering her face. She checked herself in the mirror
before once again leaving the building, silently and anonymously.

‘I’m
almost sure it’s her coming out of the Ministry,’ said the voice into the
mobile phone, ‘but she’s changed into traditional dress and is no longer
wearing glasses. She’s heading towards Victory Square again. I’ll keep you
briefed.’

Hannah
was back in Victory Square a few minutes before the first cleaner was expected
to arrive for work. Although the crowd was now smaller, she was still able to
remain inconspicuous. She looked across the road towards the courtyard. The
safe was no longer to be seen, and the crane too had disappeared. The truck was
now backed up against the wall. Hannah strained to see if Kratz was one of the
figures sitting in the front of the truck, but she couldn’t penetrate the haze
of smoke.

Hannah
turned her attention to a building she had never entered but felt she knew so
well. A full-scale plan of each floor was attached to a board in the operations
room of Mossad’s headquarters in Herzliyah, and you couldn’t take the second
paper of any exam on Iraq without being able to draw every floor of the
building in detail. Information was added all the time, from the strangest
sources: escaped refugees, former diplomats, ex-Cabinet Ministers who were
Kurds or Shi’ites, even the former British Prime Minister Edward Heath.

The
first cleaner arrived a few minutes before three, presented her pass and then
hurried across the tarmac before disappearing into a side door of the building.
The second appeared a few moments later, and followed the same procedure. When
Hannah spotted the third making her way along the far side of the pavement, she
slipped across the road and filed in behind her as she walked towards the
barrier.

‘She’s
crossed the road, reached the barrier, and the guard is now checking her pass,’
said the voice into the mobile phone. ‘As instructed, they’ve let her through.
She’s now walking across the tarmac and following another woman through the
side door. She’s in, the door’s closed. We’ve got her.’

‘Now
you open the safe,’ said Major Saeed.

Scott
swivelled the dials to their coded numbers, and the first bulb turned green.
The Major was impressed. Scott then placed the palm of his hand on the white
square, and a few seconds later the middle bulb turned green. The Major was
mesmerised. Scott leaned forward and spoke into the voice box, and the third
light turned green. The Major was speechless.

Scott
pulled the handle and the door swung open. He jumped inside and immediately
extracted the cardboard tube from the inside of his trouser leg.

The
Major spotted it at once, and flew into a rage. Scott quickly flicked off the
cap, took out the poster of Saddam Hussein and unpeeled it, letting the backing
paper fall to the ground before he strolled to the far side of the safe and
fixed the portrait of Saddam to the wall. A smile returned to the Major’s face
as Scott bent down, rolled up the backing paper and slid it into the tube.

‘Now
I teach you,’ said Scott.

‘No,
no, not me,’ said Major Saeed. He held his phone up in the air and said, ‘We
must go back upstairs.’

Scott
felt like swearing as he stepped out of the safe, dropping the tube and
allowing it to roll across the floor to the darkest corner. The plan he had so
carefully prepared with Kratz would no longer be possible. He reluctantly left
the open safe and joined the Major as he marched quickly towards the Council
Chamber, this time not allowing Scott any opportunity to hold him up.

Hannah
joined the other cleaners inside the building, and told them that her mother
had been taken ill and that she had been sent to cover for her. She tried to
assure them that it was not the first time she had done so, and was surprised
when they asked no questions. She assumed that they were fearful of being
involved with a stranger.

Hannah
picked up a box of cleaning equipment and made her way down the back stairs.
The plan displayed on the walls at Herzliyah was proving impressively accurate,
even if nobody had managed die exact number of steps to the basement.

When
she reached the door that led into the bottom corridor she could hear voices
coming from the direction of the Council Chamber. Whoever it was must be
heading for the lift. Hannah backed up against the wall so she could just see
them through the thick pane of wire-mesh glass in the centre of the door.

The
two men passed. Hannah didn’t recognise the Major, but when she saw who was
with him, her legs gave way and she almost collapsed onto the ground.