Tsunami Connection (24 page)

“Sue Ann, I have to leave you here. You’ll
be fine,” Thomas said, looking into Sue Ann’s eyes and holding her arms
protectively.

“What?  Have you totally lost it?  You
can’t walk out on me now.”

“I’m not walking out on you, but I have
something to do,” he replied.

Before he could continue, sirens and
helicopter noise filled the air. IDF Special Forces rappelled onto the lookout
and secured a perimeter. Their coordinated movements were efficient and swift.

Thomas and Sue Ann crouched down among the
frightened dignitaries and journalists. Departing military transport buffeted
them. Thomas’ arm reached around Sue Ann instinctively as they both squinted.
A
stroke of luck that I didn’t leave the scene,
Thomas thought
. It would
have made me a fugitive
.
Now, I can juggle finding Kefira, learning
about the suit and using Al Jazeera resources.
His wildest speculations
couldn’t prepare him for the shock of opening the knob on the watch Kefira gave
him.
I won’t let it happen again. It won’t be like my mother and my sister. I’ll
get her back.

Kefira’s instructions not to touch the
watch’s knob until he arrived in a secure location repeated softly but
insistently over the staccato voices of the military personnel. Thomas stifled
his urge to flee while his subconscious mind plotted a strategy. The set of
instructions Kefira had left with him before the Chinese abducted her were so
subtle, so understated, that Thomas believed they were his own.

“Who’s the officer in charge here?” asked
Sue Ann, her press badge extended out in front of her towards an intense young
woman in uniform who was making the rounds of people mostly still lying prone
and in shock.

“The one over there by the stairs, talking
into the radio, but hold off for now-” the soldier said.

“Hold off, my ass. The world needs to know
what happened here – now!” Sue Ann snapped.

Sue Ann grabbed Thomas’s shoulder and
pointed towards the officer in charge. She nodded in the man’s direction,
indicating that Thomas should pan the area and zoom on the officer. She was
rehearsing her questions when Thomas took her elbow.

“The lens broke in the attack. My camera’s
useless. Wait, maybe the audio’s still on. Yes. We have audio,” said Thomas,
professional reactions charging him up.

“Use your-” Sue Ann started, until she
noticed Thomas already busy snapping stills with his phone.

They threaded their way through the people
waking from a nightmare. Before Sue Ann could address the officer using the
radio, two other soldiers stepped between them, passive but immoveable.

“Who were those men?  How did they arrive
and leave without transport?  Where’ve they taken the Israeli guide?” shouted
Sue Ann.

Thomas pointed his camera and directional
microphone at the officer. Sue Ann’s last question had piqued his interest. He
turned to her and waved the two sentries away. Thomas and Sue Ann walked
closer.

“Turn that off. Off, I said.”

“Leave it on, Thomas. This is
world-shattering news. A group of dignitaries came under attack today,” replied
Sue Ann.

“Cooperate with me and I’ll see what I can
do about getting you a story later. Now turn that camera off before I take it
away.”

The officer reached for the camera and
snapped it out of Thomas’ grasp as the two sentries returned to separate the
journalists and the officer. The officer waved the soldiers off again.

“Take these two to the transport that’s
arriving and keep ’em nearby so I can talk to ’em after,” he said to the two
soldiers.

“You can’t do that,” shouted Sue Ann over
her shoulder as the soldiers ushered both her and Thomas down the stairs.

The officer pocketed Thomas’ camera and
looked over the area. The situation had calmed down, but his actions suggested
that he felt uneasy. There were no apparent injuries and the people now in his
charge seemed unhurt, just confused.
Where’d the ‘perps’ get to?
he
thought.

The soldiers helped dignitaries into
waiting helicopters and the other victims into military ground transport. The
executive officer fiddled with Thomas’ camera as he walked to the armored black
Escalade holding Thomas and Sue Ann. They were locked in the back bucket seats
and a metal screen separated them from the front.

“What’s this about an IDF officer
disappearing?” the officer asked as the driver pulled out in convoy, taking
some of the Special Forces team.

“What about my camera?” Thomas asked.

“First things first,” the officer replied,
turning for the first time to face the two journalists.

Captain Avon hated dealing with the public
and he disliked journalists almost as much as he despised terrorists. His
recent promotion had changed his job. The pay didn’t make up for having to deal
with non-military issues. Tact was not Avon’s
forte.
The effort of
controlling his reactions showed as he ground his teeth.

“The officer,” he repeated acidly.

“We cooperate and it means we get a story,
right?” said Sue Ann.

“Maybe. Now tell me about the officer,”
replied Avon.

Thomas spoke up first.

“She wasn’t wearing a uniform. I just knew
instinctively that she was military.”

Captain Avon turned his gaze back to the
road and cursed under his breath. A terse expletive phrase borrowed from Arabic.
His index finger played between his front teeth before he spoke.

“So this person appeared to be military to
you, but she was not in uniform?”

“In this business your nose gets pretty
good and the military stinks a certain way,” Sue Ann rejoined, provoking an
angry look from Avon.

Thomas touched Sue Ann’s leg to get her to
lighten up, but she continued.

“Anyway, this spy or whatever she was. They
were after her. The Chinese fell on her and ignored everyone else,” she stated.
She waited for the response.

“Really. And this is the story you want to
report?” Avon asked, sighing deeply.

“When do I get my camera back?” demanded
Thomas.

“When you hand over that memory stick, I’ll
think about it.”

“There’s copyrighted transmissions on it. I’ll
need a written promise from your superior before I instruct him to hand it
over,” said Sue Ann. She surprised Thomas with this sudden and apparent change
of heart.

“Give it to him, Thomas.”

Thomas reached into his sock. He always
stashed his memory sticks there when situations got out of control. He held the
device up, but just as he was about to put it in the small tray which
communicated with the front seat, Sue Ann grabbed it.

“The only reason you’re getting this is
that we got those Chinese guys in the suits taking the officer on it. They
appeared briefly before disappearing again. But you can bet your ass I want
something in return or I destroy it right now,” said Sue Ann.

She held a Bic lighter in her hand and the
flame just touched the bottom of the memory card. An acrid smell of melting
plastic filled the car.

“Ok. Ok. You get the story when it’s
released.”

“Write it down and sign it with your name,
rank and serial number or I burn the evidence,” said Sue Ann.

Avon willed himself to remain calm. He was
wondering how he let this scum trap him.
If I don’t get the evidence, my
ass’s in a sling
, he thought. Carefully he wrote his name, rank and serial
number under the authorization and passed the paper through the slot in the
mesh between the seats.

“Now let me see your dog tag,” demanded Sue
Ann.

Avon’s anger showed only in a momentary
flush in his cheeks as he twisted his neck and placed his tag against the mesh
so Sue Ann could read it. Sue Ann closed the lighter. He was indeed Captain
Avon and the seven digit number agreed.

“Here you go, now take us to our hotel and
replace the camera that you broke when you snatched it out of our hands,” added
Sue Ann, as she dropped the memory stick into the slot where she had retrieved
the note of agreement.

The Captain placed the memory stick in a
pocket under his flak jacket and closed the button.
At least I got the
evidence
, he thought.

“What hotel?”

“It’s on Dizengoff.“ said Sue Ann, as she
fiddled with her phone. “89 Dizengoff.”

“I know where it is,” said Avon, speaking
every word as though he were talking to someone senile.

The rest of the ninety-kilometer drive
passed in silence. Sue Ann texted the content of the agreement in principle
between her and Captain Avon and included a photo of the text. Her editor
texted back to forward Thomas’ stills and told her to get on the story so he
could break it before the evening news in America. His last words congratulated
Thomas for his stills and gave them instructions where to buy a new camera.

Adrenaline gone, Thomas and Sue Ann felt
let down as Avon opened Sue Ann’s door. The busy thoroughfare and lush side
streets, filled with flowers and greenery, brought them back to reality.

“Don’t go anywhere today. We may need to
contact you,” said Avon.

“What? An’ miss my scoop?” Sue Ann
retorted.

“You know what I mean,” replied Avon.

Thomas touched Sue Ann’s elbow to remind
her they were on tenuous ground here. She turned to him: “Grow some balls,
Thomas.”

“I’ve had it, Sue Ann. I need a shower an’
some sleep. Give it a fuckin’ break, will ya?”

I need to get away and use the suit. In
a kidnapping it's the first day that's the most important. This time I'm gonna
do the right thing,
thought Thomas.

Avon gave a coarse laugh at Sue Ann’s
predicament and returned to his vehicle. He knew where he had to go. He had
recognized the description of the female officer, the one with the ‘military’
appearance. In the briefing before he left for Mount Carmel, his superior
ordered him to liaise with a woman answering to the description given by Thomas
and Sue Ann - and now the Chinese had her.
Why would they kidnap a Mossad
agent?
thought Avon. His driver cleared his throat.

Avon disliked communicating outside the
line of command but his superior instructed him to pass all information to a
number at the spy agency. When he gave his entry code, they told him to proceed
to an address in Haifa at once.

“Get that memory stick here or your ass is
grass,” said the voice on the other end. Avon’s driver cleared his throat
again.

“Make sure someone stays here to keep an
eye on the journalists and get us to Haifa, the Mossad, on the double. Here’s
the address,” Avon snapped.

While they drove, the driver ordered a unit
of two officers to remain behind and report any movement by the journalists. He
also suggested one of them should cover the back entrance to the hotel.

Avon’s apprehensions grew when he saw the
nondescript apartment building on Yona Street in the old city of Haifa. His
vehicle couldn’t double park and the driver pulled into a parking lot
adjacently opposite his destination. Captain Avon made quite a spectacle
entering a woman’s hair salon in his full military gear.

The women seated around reading magazines
didn’t bat an eye as a door opened at the back of the establishment. A stunning
older woman with green eyes and careworn but amber skin approached him. She
gestured with her left hand to a young woman cutting another’s hair and the
young woman jumped to attention and ran out the door. Her goal: Avon’s
transport. The young woman produced an identity card and placed it against the
driver’s side window of Avon’s Escalade. The driver opened his window a crack.

“You’re to return to base. Captain Avon
will be detained for some time. He will contact you.”

“But-” said the driver to the young agent’s
back.

After she took
the memory chip from him, the woman walked behind Captain Avon and he could
feel her sizing him up, but she smelled so refreshing that he didn’t care. She
passed close to him to open the door to a room that assaulted his nostrils. Avon
turned to look at her. She looked familiar, then he got it.
She’s an older
version of the one who disappeared.

Can't wait to keep reading….

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