THE SPANISH REVENGE (Craig Page series) (23 page)

48

MARBELLA

At eleven thirty in the evening, General Zhou got off the train in Seville. Though he was accustomed to cars with drivers and rarely drove himself, he had to minimize the risk of being discovered. He used the phony ID Freddy had given to him to rent from Avis a Mercedes sedan with GPS. As he punched in the address of Musa’s villa in Marbella, he thought of an Avis ad he’d seen on French television. “Even an idiot can find his way with our GPS.” He hoped they were telling the truth. With his failing eyesight, reading maps of Spain at night would be next to impossible.

Before pulling out of the lot, he called Musa on the encrypted phone. “I should be at your place in a couple of hours. Don’t say any more.”

Three hours later, General Zhou, bone weary from hunching over the wheel trying to follow the road, trudged into Musa’s villa. Musa immediately led him into the study and closed the door.

“What happened?” Musa asked. “So urgent you didn’t want to tell me on the phone.”

General Zhou tossed Musa the keys to the rental car. “Before I do that, have someone hide the car in the garage.”

Afterwards, General Zhou told Musa about the missiles and their delivery to Torino.

“Perfect,” Musa said. “I’ll arrange to have my men meet the truck in the warehouse.”

“What about locations in Rome for firing the missiles?”

“We rented apartments in four buildings. All with clear shots of St. Peter’s Square. Different neighborhoods. The distances from St. Peter’s Square are five, eight, ten, and twelve kilometers. Each on a different radius. Random points for all practical purposes. Discovery of one won’t compromise any others.”

“Good. What about the attack on Southern Spain?”

“I have ten thousand troops armed and ready to go. The pontoon boats have arrived and are stored in a warehouse. But I’m still concerned we’ll face heavy ground fire from the Spanish side. That will give them time to bring in air support. You promised me, but…”

“You don’t have to worry. I have a plan to minimize the Spanish opposition. Everything is in place. I want to wait a little longer for implementation.”

Musa’s brow wrinkled. “But are you sure …”

“Haven’t I delivered on everything I’ve promised?”

“I don’t want my men to be slaughtered.”

“They won’t be.”

“Alright. Now let me tell you what I’m doing to give legitimacy to the takeover of Southern Spain.”

Musa reported what had happened with Professor Khalid and Etienne. At the end, he said, “I have Etienne locked up downstairs.” Musa checked his watch. “I expect Omar and Habib to be back any minute with the parchment from the grave of Tomas de Torquemada.”

General Zhou was skeptical that this parchment would be intact and readable after being in the grave of some religious fanatic who was buried five hundred years ago. Then he thought about the Dead Sea Scrolls. A drier climate. But still. Possible? Perhaps.

Before General Zhou could say anything else, Omar, filthy, an anguished look on his face, staggered into the room and collapsed into a chair.

“Do you have the parchment?” Musa demanded.

“It wasn’t in the grave,” Omar replied in a halting voice. “We dug it up. I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps the monks hid it.”

“We searched the monastery. I killed them all one by one. I’m convinced it wasn’t there.”

“Where’s Habib?”

“I killed him too. He was trying to steal jewels from Torquemada’s grave.”

“You picked him. He was your friend.”

“Forgive me,” Omar sounded terrified.

General Zhou hoped Musa wouldn’t kill Omar in an angry rage. The man was valuable to the operation. It sounded as if he’d done all he could to obtain the parchment. Habib’s treachery was immaterial.

Musa reached for the gun in his holster and placed it on the table. “What a complete disaster,” Musa was raising his voice.

“Professor Etienne deceived us,” Omar said. “He sent us on a fool’s errand. He’s the one who should pay for this.”

Musa was red with rage. “I’ll make him tell me where the parchment is.”

A look of relief appeared on Omar’s face.

Musa turned to General Zhou. “Come downstairs with me. I’ll get the truth.”

General Zhou followed Musa and two of his men to the basement. He watched as they pulled Professor Etienne from the cot and dragged him into a room that Musa called the torture
chamber. There Musa ordered his men to strip off Etienne’s clothes. The Professor was screaming. “I told you everything I know. I swear it. Please.”

Musa ignored his cries. He ordered his men to stand Etienne up against a metal wall. They tied his arms and legs to posts, put his feet into buckets of water, then hooked up electrodes to his genitals.

“Where’s the parchment?” Musa demanded.

“I told you everything.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. I swear it.”

“We’ll start with a small charge. Then get progressively stronger. I assure you that you will tell me.”

Musa turned on the electricity. Etienne screamed. “No … No …” Tears were running down Etienne’s cheeks.

He turned off the power. “Now tell me.”

“There is no parchment.”

“What are you saying?”

“I never heard about a parchment with an edict granting Muslims rights in Southern Spain. I never even heard about the edict. It never happened. I made up the whole story I told Khalid about Queen Isabella, the edict and the parchment to advance my career. I planned to prepare a fraudulent research paper and present it at the London conference in October. Everything I told you was false. I have no proof she issued the edict or prepared a parchment. I wanted to be famous.”

“You’re lying. The next one will be stronger.” Musa adjusted the current and hit the red button.

The scream was piercing. “No … Don’t know … No.”

Musa was unmoved. “You’ll either tell me, or I’ll keep raising it until you die.”

Musa increased the charge.

“No … No …” A blood curdling scream. Etienne’s face was flushed. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. Smoke was coming
from his groin. Saliva dripping from his mouth. The professor was on the verge of passing out.

General Zhou put a hand on Musa’s arm. “Stop for a minute. Let’s talk outside.”

General Zhou led Musa into an adjoining room and closed the door. Musa looked like a wild man. This won’t be easy, General Zhou thought.

“Let me tell you something,” General Zhou said softly. “I’ve observed the torture of lots of men and women in China. Etienne is not a professional intelligence agent, trained to endure torture and not talk. He’s an ordinary man. If he knew anymore about the parchment, he would have told you. I’m firmly convinced he made up the story about Queen Isabella’s edict and the parchment, just as he said. Professors cheat all the time to achieve fame in their fields. Mostly scientists, but lots of others as well.”

“Then I have no legitimacy. For sure, I should kill the bastard. For lying to me.”

“You have another choice. You don’t need a genuine parchment prepared by Queen Isabella. With a forger and Etienne’s help, you can create a phony parchment that says what he attributed to Queen Isabella. He’s an expert in the field. He’ll know how to word it. What the parchment, letters, and ink should look like to be consistent with the time and other documents Isabella prepared. Then you can roll it around in the dirt. Make it seem old.”

Musa looked intrigued. “Then what?”

“Give it to your friend Professor Khalid in Casablanca. Let him release it to the media.”

“But once other experts in the field study it, they’ll conclude it’s not authentic.”

“It doesn’t matter. Scholars work slowly. By the time they discover the parchment’s a fake, Easter will have come and gone. You will have used it to give legitimacy to your takeover of Southern Spain.
You’ll be in control of a portion of Andalusia. They’ll never be able to dislodge you.”

“I like it,” Musa said, now smiling. “Omar knows a forger, Hamza, in Marrakech. He prepared the fake passport Omar used to get into Italy when he stole the Vatican water plans. And he said Hamza knows how to keep his mouth shut.”

“Good. Do you think Omar can get Hamza up here to do the job?”

“For money, you can get anything.”

Though it was four in the morning, Musa had to begin. Time was of the essence. “I’ll have Omar call him now. I have a deal with a man in Marrakech who runs a helicopter service. He’ll get Hamza up here immediately.”

Musa went back into the torture chamber with General Zhou trailing behind. “Listen carefully, Professor Etienne,” Musa said. “If you do what I want, the electric shocks will stop and I’ll untie you.”

“Yes. I’ll do it. Anything. Please no more.”

Musa explained about the preparation of the phony parchment. Etienne eagerly agreed to work with Hamza. “I’ll tell you what materials we’ll need. Also a computer to access other documents from the period, particularly ones authored by Queen Isabella. It will be perfect. I promise you.”

Musa ordered two of his men to lead Etienne back to his bedroom cell. Then he went upstairs and told Omar to call Hamza.

Once the arrangements were made, Musa said to Omar, “When you grabbed Etienne, did you take his cell phone?”

“Absolutely.” He pulled it out of his pocket. “I’m letting his calls go into voice mail, then listening. So far just routine university stuff. If I hear anything important, I’ll immediately tell you.”

49

PARIS

Friday morning, Craig was in his office, studying reports of last night’s riots. Eighty-eight police cars were set on fire in the Paris suburbs. compared with ninety-two the night before. Looting was still widespread, and arrests numbered in the hundreds. So far, no sign of the riots abating.

His cell phone rang. Elizabeth.

“Listen Craig, I got a call from Carlos in Madrid.”

“And?” Craig was holding his breath.

“He said Alvarez is acting like a guy who just won the lottery. Bought a big new red Audi. Expensive suits. He’s looking at brochures for property in Mallorca.”

Alvarez is on the take from Musa, Craig decided. “Call Carlos back and ask him to find out where Alvarez banks.”

“C’mon Craig. Don’t underestimate me. I already have it. Bank National in Madrid. Carlos couldn’t get an account number.”

“I don’t need it. I may come back to you. Where are you?”

“My editor at the paper, Rob, has me working on an article about Europe’s tenuous relationship with President Dalton. The ‘Death of the Atlantic Alliance’ is my working title.”

“Haven’t you done a couple of those already?”

“Yes, but we have blank pages to fill every day. Have you ever noticed how top columnists for the newspapers repackage the same stuff over and over? And I don’t want to hear one of your anti media diatribes.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I save those for CNN.”

“I’m happy to interrupt if you need me.”

Craig walked down the hall to IT. Clarissa was the best computer whiz he ever met. Not exactly the usual-looking geek. She was a tall, statuesque redhead.

“Clarissa,” he said, approaching her desk. “Let’s break into a bank.”

“Sure, Craig. I love doing banks. Whose account?”

“General Jose Alvarez at Bank National in Spain. One of the Madrid branches.”

“Piece of cake.”

In admiration, he watched her move her long thin well manicured fingers over the keys.

“Look at this,” she said pointing to the screen. “Two days ago, five hundred thousand Euros transferred into Alvarez account from a Singapore sub of UBZ.”

Confirmation, Craig thought. Alvarez is definitely getting paid off by somebody. He had to prove it was Musa.

He turned to Clarissa. “Can you access the account at UBZ Singapore? Find out who put the money in that Alvarez took out?”

She shook her head. “UBZ has an impenetrable electronic wall around their database. The parent and all the subs. At least, I can’t get in.”

“If you can’t, nobody can.”

Craig wrote down the number of the UBZ Singapore account, SX23A0, and went back to his office. He picked up the phone and called Hans Schmidt, the President of UBZ in Zurich.

“Mr. Schmidt, this is Craig Page, the Director of the EU Counterterrorism Agency.”

“We haven’t met, but I know of you Mr. Page.”

Craig explained what he wanted.

Without hesitation, Schmidt responded, “As you Americans say, Mr. Page, your request is a no brainer.”

“You mean you’ll give it to me.”

Schmidt laughed. “You have a sense of humor, Mr. Page. Of course the answer is no.”

“I could bring pressure from the President of France.”

“We both know that would never happen. Besides our Singapore bank is a separate entity. It has to be under Singapore law. I have no control over it. I couldn’t obtain and divulge the information if I wanted to, which I don’t.”

Schmidt slammed down the phone leaving Craig to contemplate his next move.

His cell phone rang. Jacques.

“Craig, you better be sitting down. You won’t like this news.”

“One time, Jacques, you’re going to call me with something good, and I’ll probably pass out with surprise. What now?”

“General Zhou slipped our tail.”

“I thought you had your best people on him.”

“They were outfoxed.”

“I don’t believe it. I fucking don’t believe it.” Craig was shouting. “First Lila in Marseilles. Then this. Can’t they do anything right?”

“That wasn’t justified. These things happen. You want to call me back when you get control?”

“I’m sorry. Give me the details.”

“They thought they were following General Zhou and Androshka home after lunch yesterday at Apicius. The two of them went into
his apartment. No one left until this morning when another Chinese man who looks like General Zhou came out of the apartment. Our guys got suspicious. They asked to see his ID. His name is Charlie Ming. Works for Chinese Military Sales. Says he’s a friend of Androshka’s. He was keeping her company last night because General Zhou is out of town. He has no idea where. They checked the apartment. General Zhou was gone.”

“Have you been leaning on Charlie?”

“He’s in a police station. We’ve been pressing him for the last hour. I waited to call you, hoping to have more info, but he won’t budge from his story. He’s threatening to call the Chinese Ambassador. What do you want me to do?”

“Release him. No point holding him. General Zhou is too smart to have Charlie know where he went. That’s all we care about. And we have no chance of getting records from Chinese military sales. They work under the Embassy’s umbrella.”

“Let me give the order. I’ll be right back.”

When Jacques returned to the phone, Craig said, “General Zhou probably left Paris. Maybe the country.”

“I agree. We have people watching his house in Antibes. No sign of him. We’ve checked airplane manifests out of Paris. He wasn’t on any of them.”

“Probably using a phony passport.”

“That’s where I was an hour ago. I have people examining the feed from security cameras at Charles DeGaulle and Orly.”

“That’s a helluva job.”

“Fortunately, we’re working with a narrow time window and not many Chinese men go though our airports.”

“Smart move.”

“I have to do something to redeem myself. I’ll let you know as soon as I get any info.”

“OK. Listen, I need help with a Swiss banker.”

Craig outlined the problem.

“I have a solution,” Jacques said. “I’ll talk to a friend in the Mossad here in Paris. They get stuff out of Switzerland nobody else does. I have no idea how.”

“I don’t want them to know why we’re interested in Alvarez.”

“Gideon’s always discreet. I would trust him with my son’s life.”

“Do it then.”

Half an hour later, Jacques called back. “The UBZ Singapore bank account is in the name of Shanghai Partners, a Singapore entity. The name on the account is Shen Ling, a Chinese national. That’s as far as the trail goes. Not much, I’m afraid.”

“It’s plenty. It means General Zhou is in this even deeper than I figured. It puts a premium on finding him. He has to be with Musa. How’s the airport feed coming?”

“I’ll put you on hold and call downstairs.”

A minute later, Jacques was back on the line. “They located him at Charles DeGaulle. He boarded Air France 629 at 17:00 yesterday to Madrid.”

“How sure are they?”

“An exact match with his visa picture.”

“Good. I’ll call Carlos and ask him to look at their feed from arriving passengers. Meantime, we have another card to play.”

Jacques completed Craig’s thought. “Androshka.”

“Precisely. Keep tabs on her phone and add personal surveillance. Sooner or later he’ll contact her. Then we’ll grab him.”

Carlos was happy to help. Two hours later, he called back. “General Zhou was traveling under the name of Wei Shu. Yesterday at 18:30, he exited the airport terminal and went to a cab stand. We located the driver, who said he dropped him at the train station in Madrid.” Craig was leaning forward in his chair, listening anxiously.

“Unfortunately, the security cameras weren’t working at the station.”

“Oh, shit! Technology is the bane of our existence! We depend on it then it fails us.”

“I agree.”

“He has to be in the south. That’s where Musa must be launching his attack.”

“It’s a large area. I’ll mobilize all of our intelligence resources down there. Check train station surveillance. Hotels. Car rental agencies. Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

“Move fast. We don’t have much time.”