Cyrill Delvin - The Gaza Project

»… Doris, my guests have just arrived. I have to go. Do you still remember our time together at St. Andrew‘s College?«

»Yes, but…?« The American Secretary of State blushed slightly. Fortunately she was on her own in her office at the White House.

»Always careful not to get caught…«

»You mean…« She now also understood.

»Exactly. I’m in the same predicament now here in the South of France.«

»Well, don’t let me stop you. See you.«

She put the receiver down and took a deep breath. The feelings they once had for each other were still there. Back then, they had had to meet in secret. Their fathers would never have endorsed a public relationship between their offspring. Both ambitious politicians – Whiteford a conservative Republican; Reeds a progressive Democrat - they were sworn enemies. Fortunately, her father hadn’t lived long enough to witness how Doris, the black sheep of the family, had rapidly advanced her career with the Democrats.

Charles turned around to Ted: »What in …«

Ted gestured to him again to keep silent and indicated that he should follow him. By now the property was swarming with armed security guards. Two of them escorted them outside to the grounds.

»I checked the Codec system. It’s fine. But Tariq’s remote analysis established that the house is bugged. I’ve activated the silent alarm.«

»Bugged? Since when?«

»Tariq’s working on it in California and the CIA phone-tapping specialists stationed in Marseille are on their way over here.«

»Thank you, Ted.« A while later Charles added: »You came at the right time. I was just about to chat to Doris about our plans after the pilot stage. But not everybody has to know about those right now.«

»Bring General Markowitz here,« the young intelligence officer ordered the even younger adjutant outside the door. »Immediately!«

»Beg your pardon, Sir, but the General is upstairs in the Knesset with the Prime Minister.«

»Are you deaf?!«

»But…«

»Right now. I will not repeat myself!« the officer snorted.

»Yes, Sir!« The adjutant saluted and left the situation room under the parliament building to fetch the special military advisor from the meeting.

»I sincerely hope you can explain your motives,« General Markowitz said after the glass door to the conference room closed behind him.

»I can, General. We have new information on the ›Icarus‹ case.«

The grey-haired General raised his eyebrows and sat down. Ever since he had initiated the ›Icarus‹ taskforce for the surveillance of the IWAC, it hadn’t produced any results to speak of. The organisation’s true objectives were still shrouded in mystery. Markowitz knew that the American organisation was much too powerful to pursue solely humanitarian aims. Its scientific activities and political connections were far too widely supported. There must be more at stake. Perhaps the ongoing political developments in the Palestine offered the opportunity to become politically active?

»What did you actually dig up?«

»We recorded a conversation between Reeds and Whiteford, the Secretary of State, in Marseille. Here’s the transcript. They obviously detected the bugs. Their chat stopped abruptly. But the last sentence before it did is interesting. Reeds says that the Israeli stronghold will be the first to fall.«

The general skimmed through the document.

»Right so. And now leave me alone.«

What is it with these rash youngsters? he wondered. Reeds’ anti-Israeli stance was well known. The sentence in itself signified nothing. Doubtful was only who would follow after the ›first to fall‹. Perhaps the right time to act had arrived after all. The question was how to further destabilise the Palestine which now found itself on shaky ground with Šarīf’s election. Politically, they wouldn’t be able to achieve anything with Eizenburg.

What a wimp of a Prime Minister. His connection to the IWAC fits perfectly. And the American President, like so many of his predecessors, believes he has found a platform for his own political profiling in Israel. How ridiculous. Reeds is right. A stronghold has to fall…

Markowitz extracted his mobile device from his pocket and inserted the encoder dongle: »Rishon, Kemuel here. I need you in Jerusalem for a special ›Icarus‹ mission! It’s time to become operational.«

Rishon was at his desk in the boarding school in Hodaya and confirmed the order.

»You’ll receive the file tomorrow. No other contact apart from that. No paper trail, no contact with the secret service, the army or me. This mission is strictly secret. You and your team are on your own. You understand ?«

»Affirmative. ›Icarus‹ will learn how to fly.«

»I’m relying on you, just as I relied on your father.«

Weisz leaned back. He’s still the same tough old soldier. As Eizenburg‘s highest-ranking special military advisor, Markowitz wasn’t part of any direct military or intelligence chain of command. He was officially regarded as the liberal mediator between the army command and the Prime Minister.

Weisz knew from his father that Markowitz was indeed a true hardliner – or at least had been in the past. The Colonel guessed that he still was. He didn’t believe in the biblical transformation from Saul to Paul. Admittedly, from the time of his father’s funeral three years earlier until the General’s inauguration he hadn’t heard from him. The telephone call two years ago had accordingly been quite a surprise. »Rishon, this is a chat among friends; nothing official. I need you close to me. I’m worried about the situation in Gaza.«

»General Markowitz, I work as a covert recruitment officer for the Academy. My superiors…«

»That’s no problem. I’ll look after that. You won’t lose track of your pupils. Your cover is perfect. I need two new teams. An active one for reconnaissance and a standby one for operations. This is about the IWAC; about uncovering their objectives and activities. We simply don’t know enough about them, and Eizenburg will do anything to stop us finding out more. This is why you have to work from the outside. We’ll establish the base at the Academy in Haifa. You can work there undisturbed.«

»Who will I report to?«

»No one but me!«

The Colonel was aware that something wasn’t quite right. No doubt, the Israeli secret service was also interested in the IWAC. Apparently inadequately or not sufficiently results-oriented. As usual, it wasn’t clear where the real enemy was hiding. In their own ministries, in foreign governments and organisations or, always the most simple solution, among the ranks of radical Islamists and their cohorts.

The only thing the active and the infiltrated agents had discovered over the two years was an operation with the code name ›Phoenix‹. Nothing else. Or have they? Have I overlooked something that’s important to the old General?

The operations file he held in his hands the following day was very much to his taste. The taste of blood. Weisz pulled out a tattered black notebook. It contained all the names he required for the mission.

»During the cabinet meeting we decided to accept President Davidson’s offer of mediation. All the Generals, except Markowitz, were vehemently opposed,« Eizenburg reported impassively.

»Where and when will the first meeting take place?« Charles enquired at the other end of the line.

»Next Monday at the Willy Brandt Centre in Jerusalem. Šarīf is prepared to attend under the condition that the Americans guarantee his safety. He apparently still thinks that we’re not on top of the situation,« he added derisively.

»Thanks to his victory, he is exposed to all sides. I hope you’ll still control the situation.«