Triple Identity (39 page)

Shimon climbed the wooden stairs to the roof, opened the latch holding a small wooden door on the ceiling, and pushed himself in. After five minutes, which seemed like eternity, I felt the rope tugged three times. I quickly pulled back the rope and hurried downstairs, waiting for him at the door. I was tense and restless. I waited for a few minutes but nothing happened. I didn't hear any activity next to the locked door. I heard cars passing and conversations in German, but no sign of Shimon. I went back to Guttmacher's office and asked Yuval to radio the sentinel outside whether he could see Shimon.

“He can,” came the answer, “but he can't approach the door. There's too much activity in the street. He's hiding behind a parked van waiting for the commotion to let up.”

I rushed back down to the door and waited. I heard the door lock being worked on, and a moment later it opened. “Quick,” said Shimon, “go out. Andy is waiting for you in a black Mercedes taxi one hundred yards up the street.”

I removed my shoe rubbers, gloves, and cap, and gave them to Shimon. “Your stuff is here as well,” I said, pointing to the floor, and slipped out the door while Shimon entered the bank, closing the door behind him. I started walking slowly up the street. The street was dark with few cars passing, many of them taxicabs and police. I saw Andy waiting for me in the Mercedes. He drove me back to the safe house.

As I entered the room I could hear the report: “Team two is outside the target and is on its way to the safe house.”

I could hear a slight sigh of relief in the room.

“Team three reports increased police activity in the area. They think it's connected to the blackout. The utility company workers broke the control-box lock, but the power is still not on. They're still checking the box.”

Benny looked at Eric. “Let's wait,” said Eric.

“Team three reports power restored in the block. Utility company workers leaving but the police cars are still in the area.”

“Call team number one. Report if any of the bank's alarm systems were triggered after power was restored.”

“Negative,” came the answer. “They took care of it before the power went on again; they have the keys, remember?”

“Ask team three if their car has been detected.”

“No, their scanner just picked up the police radio; they believe that the police patrol is routine. Anyway, they're still in the rented office.”

“Good,” said Eric.

“Team two reports arrival at safe house and radio reporting is off.”

Eric wiped perspiration from his forehead. I was surprised, considering he was such a cold-blooded eel; I figured he probably sent his wife a written memo if he wanted to have sex with her.

Hours went by. I stretched out on the couch. Only the intermittent sounds of incoming reports broke the silence. Just before 5:00
A.M.
Eric asked, “How are they doing there?”

“Twelve files copied; there are at least four more.”

“OK, tell them to wrap it up. Remove the cash and the relevant files together with four additional files that are clearly, I repeat clearly, unconnected to the Iranians, and leave.”

So Eric was extending Benny's idea. They would look even more like random burglars by taking unrelated files. “Wait,” I said to Eric. “Tell them to search Guttmacher's desk drawers.”

“Why?” asked a surprised Eric. “There couldn't be anything important to us in the desk.”

“True,” I said, “but we want to create the impression that burglars broke into the bank, and that's what a burglar would do.” My training kicked in again.

“OK,” said Eric, and gave the order.

The man with the headset said to Eric, “They found a personal diary and a checkbook and ask what to do with it.”

“I suggest you tell them to photocopy all entries in the diary during the past month, but take the checkbook,” I said. Eric agreed. “Tell team three to scour the area before they're picked up,” he added.

Fifteen minutes later the word came. “Team one outside the target.”

“All clear,” came the response a few minutes later. “Teams one and three are on their way to their safe houses.”

I shook Eric's hand; it was wet with perspiration. “Congratulations,” I said.

“Thanks for your help,” said the visibly drained Eric. “Now we need to see what we got.” Eric's technical staff started dismantling the equipment. Minutes later Tom and Jeff of team three walked in. They were unshaven and looked tired. “Mission accomplished,” said Tom.

“Good work,” said Eric. “Did you clean the rented office?”

“Yes, I made sure nothing was left behind aside from the documents intended to be left there, those collected from the garbage cans of a big Hollywood studio.” He chuckled. “The landlord will be surprised that his tenants disappeared, although the rent was paid until the end of the month.”

“That has been taken care of,” said Eric. “A letter will be delivered to him on Monday giving him notice, a check for another month's rent, and an apology that the film-making project was delayed for several months.”

Benny smiled.

“Now,” continued Eric, “go home and get some sleep. I mean all of you, excluding the technical staff here. Our men will wrap up all the equipment and make sure nothing is left behind. As of now, this place is abandoned. Benny and Dan, I'll see you at the other safe house today at four in the afternoon. My men will pick you up from your hotels at 3:35
P.M.
Each of you should leave here in opposite directions, even if you need to go to the same area. U-turn later. Leave at five-minute intervals. Remember, although it's early Sunday morning, there could be people outside. Don't arouse any suspicion; none of us look as if we belong here. Female members of our team, please leave together with a man to make it look like you are returning from a party.”

I got back to my hotel but couldn't sleep. The whole day had been intense; the adrenaline rush still hadn't subsided. Then I thought of Ariel. More calming than a pill. I fell asleep.

Tom picked me up on time, as usual, and took me to another safe house. The apartment was located in a high-rise building that looked out of place in this suburban neighborhood. But multistory buildings are a good location for a safe apartment because they give you a certain degree of anonymity. In a building with only six units every one may know everyone else, and a strange face can breed curiosity.

Benny and Eric were already there with the two men I'd seen earlier in the operation center. “These are my supervisors from Langley,” said Eric. “Phil Richards,” he pointed at a tall, slim man in his early fifties. I shook his hand. “And this is Arthur Brown, my direct supervisor.” Brown was a stocky African American with a firm handshake.

“Dan, nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you.”

“Please, I can explain,” I said grinning.

He smiled. “Not right now, we've got work to do.”

“We've had only an initial review of the material from the bank,” said Eric. “Most of it relates to the transactions Guttmacher was making with Broncotrade and the Iranians. It looks promising but we'll have to analyze it thoroughly.”

“What about me?” I asked. “Anything about DeLouise?”

“We don't know yet. There's still a lot to check out. If it's here, you'll get it, don't worry.”

We continued in a cordial exchange of conversation, but there was really nothing more to be said. We'd have to go through the files before any conclusions could be drawn.

“OK,” I said as I got up. “I guess my tour of duty for you has ended. Just let me know when I can come and work on these papers. I've still got my own job to do.”

“Sit down,” said Brown politely, “you're not done yet.”

I sat back down on the couch waiting for somebody to say something. Nobody did, so I ventured a question.

“What about the break-in into Armajani's apartment? Anything interesting there?” I asked.

“That yielded only one file,” said Brown. “Eric, let him see it.” He sounded content.

The first document had ten pages. It bore an official Iranian flag in green, white, and red and a green seal. I looked over Eric's shoulder as he went through the pages. It was typed in Arabic script on thin airmail paper.

“It's written in Farsi,” I said, after giving it a first glance behind Eric's shoulder, “because there are few extra letters to Arabic.”

“Can you read Farsi?” asked Eric.

“No. The letters are Arabic, which I can read, but I'd have no clue what they say except for a few words that entered Farsi from Arabic.”

“Never mind,” said Eric, “we made a quick translation,” and handed me a stapled document.

I took the document and started in. The header read “Top Secret” and then came the words “With God Almighty's Blessing.” The letter was dated 13 farvadin 1369 and was addressed to Cyrus Armajani and Farbod Kutchemeshgi.

“What is that date?” asked Brown.

“The Iranian solar calendar,” I volunteered. “Years are numbered by the years since Mohammad's Hegira in 621
A.D
., so the Iranian year will be 621 years less than the Gregorian year that began on January 1. That makes the year 1369. Farvadin is April. And since they say in the letter that this is the Islamic Republic Day, I presume the correct date to be April 2,1990.”

The document was titled “Iran's Pride.”

“Before you continue,” Eric said, “I should mention that ‘Iran's Pride’ is a code name assigned to their nuclear weaponization program, which is closely connected to their delivery system, a ballistic missile.”

“OK,” I said, and continued reading from the translation. “Today is Islamic Republic Day. The Great Iranian Islamic nation is about to demonstrate to the world its scientific ability by building an atomic bomb to safeguard our nation's leading position in the region.

“This entire program is subject to the most stringent confidentiality
Under orders of Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, our president, all activities in this program must be under the guise of ‘intended for civil or peaceful use.’ If asked, we offer the explanation that the purchases of the materials are for ‘civil use such as oil refining, food and dairy production, car and truck manufacture, pharmaceutical research, and drug production.’”

Brown moved to the couch. “We know that Iran is building two uranium-enrichment facilities, which will operate in concert with the larger facility planned at Natanz.”

“Dan was already briefed on that,” said Eric.

“OK,” said Brown.

I scanned through some more pages in the document.

“I see an updated list of materials and equipment the Iranians need. It indicates that quantities and delivery dates would be advised as soon as possible. It includes the potential vendors for the supply.” I paused for a minute and quickly read on. “Here's an interesting part. They write that ‘there have been several sabotage attacks by the Israelis on factories the Iraqis used in Europe and we expect that to happen to our facilities if agents of the Zionist entity or the American infidels discover our nuclear activities. You should engage special means to protect yourselves and be extra careful with respect to your suppliers and vendors. You are not allowed to befriend anyone without our prior approval. Any new approach to you, as benign and as random as it may seem, must be regarded as an attempted contact by the CIA or the Israelis.”

“There's no need to read out the entire document,” said Brown after patiently listening to my reading. “All I want you to do is to quickly compare it with DeLouise's list, the one you saw during the meeting with the Iranians at Guttmacher's office.”

It took me about ten minutes to go through the pages of machinery and chemical compounds, carefully itemized.

“It looks very similar to the list I gave you earlier,” I said. “DeLouise did a good job by keeping these lists. What I see here partially matches DeLouise's list.”

“It seems that they didn't give him the whole list, just the bits they wanted him to get,” said Eric.

“But DeLouise had two lists, a short one and a longer one. I guess the short one was given to him by the Iranians, and then he probably stole a complete copy from Guttmacher,” I suggested.

“Anything here to confirm the authenticity of this document?” asked Brown.

“The fact that the list checks with DeLouise's adds to its credibility, but a fake document could be copied and that wouldn't convert it to a genuine document. Our analysts will verify authenticity,” chipped in Benny.

“If it's genuine, it's a gold mine,” said Richards, cautiously. “This could save us months of work. Some of the machinery and materials are dual purpose, so I wouldn't be surprised if those vendors don't even know the true intended use of their equipment or materials.”

“I don't think any of them are that naïve,” I said. “The smell of money just clouded their judgment more than a little.”

“I'm not giving anyone a clean bill of health,” said Benny. “However, some of the manufacturers of the dual-purpose materials could have been duped by the Iranians.”

“We need to do a lot more research before we jump to conclusions, and this is a perfect time to do it,” added Brown. “After that it's a political decision.”

“We already know some of the names,” said Benny, “but this is the first time our information has been supported by an official Iranian document boasting about their campaign of disinformation.”

“Let's squeeze the juice out of it first,” said Eric, “and then see what to do with the pulp.”

I thought that the next document in the file would shock everyone. It appeared to be a copy of a CIA report on the Iranian nuclear program.

If the document were genuine, then the Iranians had a mole. How else could they have gotten it? At first glance it looked genuine. It had the CIA letterhead and was dated August 1, 1990. Eric narrowed his eyes and read it briefly. Then he handed it over to Benny and said, “Please read it out loud, then tell us what you think.” He seemed to be in a testing mode.

Benny put on his small rimless glasses and read. “This is an updated report concerning Iranian nuclear activity.

“The 1981 Israeli Air Force's bombing of the Iraqi Osiraq reactor and subsequent developments highlighted fairly early on that Iraq was fostering a nuclear weapon interest. Dr. Jafar dhia Jafar, head of Iraq's nuclear weapons effort, has indicated that the Israeli bombing of Osiraq prompted his government to proceed with a secret enrichment program. Although the Israeli attack cost Iraq almost one billion dollars, the world did not punish Israel for its aggression. That caused Iran to resort to subterfuge concerning its own nuclear program.”