Reprisal in Black Read online

Page 6


  The flight was bumpy due to air turbulence at around eight thousand feet, but otherwise uneventful. Not enough time for food or drink to be served, most of it would have ended up in your lap anyway, just the butterflies in the stomach to contend with as always as they got closer to the end of their mission.

  As they entered the terminal building in Tel Aviv and approached Passport Control, they were intercepted by two uniformed and armed Israeli guards and a couple of others who had ‘special agent’ written all over them. Nothing was said but they were escorted in to a side room and the door was locked behind them. The windowless, airless room, no more than twelve by twelve feet, had only a large wooden table and six small plastic chairs. There was a door opposite. There were no door handles on the inside. Smerkel had started to shake off his lethargy as the drug he’d been given wore off, and looked around nervously. After only a couple of minutes the other door opened and in walked Joe Connecci, a CIA man through and through and a very old hand at this game. He smiled broadly at Steve flashing his impressive set of pure white teeth. They shook hands and embraced a little. Joe then did the same with the rest of the team, just easing back a little when he came to Jean, her reputation well and truly preceding her. One of Joe’s aides put a plain black leather briefcase on the table. Steve spun it around and opened it to find several new passports, about five thousand in American dollars and Euros, and four SIG Sauer P290 automatic pistols fully loaded with an extra magazine taped onto each one. Steve said thanks. Joe smiled and nodded.

  Joe then shook the Israeli truck driver’s hand and introduced him to the team as Daniel Levi from Madison, Wisconsin, USA. Steve and Jean swapped a wry smile between them. Their suspicions were totally unfounded but you always needed that little bit of paranoia.

  Marcel said, ’the guy needs a medal. He did a great job getting us out of Iraq.’

  Joe said, ‘he don’t say a lot does he?’ They laughed with Daniel smiling embarrassingly. He still said nothing.

  Joe then turned his attention to Smerkel who immediately began protesting his treatment and capture, his abuse and….. The solid punch to Smerkel’s jaw came from Joe’s left fist and dropped him like a stone. He lay on the floor for a moment dazed and then looked up in abject terror. The tooth fairy had really let him down.

  Two of Joe’s associates entered the room and without a word grabbed Smerkel and took him away struggling. Steve would have loved to be a fly on the wall at his interrogation. Jean would have loved to be involved in it. She was a sadistic bitch.

  Joe then turned for the door and as he opened it he said to Steve and the team, ‘You are booked in at the Dan Tel Aviv Hotel which is a bit special, five stars and all that, beautiful sea views, four en-suites, room service, mini-bar, whatever you want. All of it’s on us, including the mini-bar. Me and Deputy Director Finch will meet you there for dinner at eight o’clock tonight. There will also be the mandatory Mossad counterpart, but she’s okay and quite a beauty. I’ve no doubt her and Jean will find loads to talk about.’ Jean scowled. Steve thought Joe Connecci was winding Jean up which was not really recommended, she could be entirely unpredictable. Perhaps realising his mistake he said, ‘In five minutes a car will pick you up and take you there.’ He smiled again and quickly left the room.

  Chapter 6

  Washington DC, 2010

  Rani Desai, a now naturalised Indian immigrant from New Delhi, India, had his alarm set for seven thirty a.m. and woke a few seconds before its cacophony started. He lay there dozing waiting for it to go off. He was still tired having not slept well and if the truth were told he was extremely nervous about the day ahead. His brother, Dado, had already left for work from the small two bed roomed apartment they had shared since they graduated from Baltimore University a few years before.

  The alarm sounded and Rani switched it off cursing himself for not turning it off when he had the chance. He dragged himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. His brother had told him to calm down before he’d left for work but his sound advice wasn’t working very well.

  As he sat on the toilet he thought about his day ahead. He was sweating with nervous tension already. He ran the shower up, prepared his shaving gear and then fetched his freshly pressed clothes and hung them on the back of the bathroom door. He then thought about his shoes and went back into his bedroom to check that he had in fact cleaned them. Satisfied, he went back into the bathroom and got in the shower.

  He was more fastidious with his routine this morning. There was a lot at stake. He had a job interview this morning and it was probably the most important step in his life so far. He could not afford to mess it up. Many people were relying on him to make a success of this.

  After finishing his toilet routine, he dressed and then carefully checked that he looked good in the long mirror. He was too nervous to eat anything and didn’t even have a coffee. Looking at his watch he confirmed that he had just over an hour to get to the appointment. It would take him a half hour at the most, but he daren’t be late. It was too important. Driving carefully in his current employer’s company van making sure that he obeyed the speed limit and giving other vehicles plenty of room, he made the journey in thirty-five minutes rather than the twenty it should have taken. He was pleased with the care he’d taken but his caution had done little to settle his nerves.

  Rani Desai arrived for his interview at Andrews Air Force Base, Catering Corps, in plenty of time. There was no point making himself any more nervous by arriving with just seconds to spare. He parked his van in the space provided and stuck the parking pass he’d received at the security gate on the inside of the windscreen. He sat there for a while trying to control his anxiety by taking slow deep breaths.

  When he eventually got out of the van he adjusted his tie and straightened his suit jacket and trousers and thought this is it, took another deep breath and walked slowly but deliberately towards the Catering Corps Reception Office. The application was for the job of a senior delivery driver but it had a much more grandiose title.

  Rani currently worked for Parkers Catering Services which provided the Air Base with a back-up service, although for several years they had provided an almost full time resource. The duties were almost the same as the full time base staff whereby food, drink and equipment was shuttled around the huge base. This required numerous sizeable vans and trucks. Rani had driven these types of vans and trucks for several years now and knew the base and its layout extremely well. Getting a permanent job on the base was part of Rani’s overall plan and he had waited for a long time for this opportunity to arise. He was not going to screw it up now, certainly when there was so much at stake.

  At the secured entrance door he pressed the intercom buzzer and a few seconds later was met with a crackly female voice though the speaker asking ‘can I help you?’

  ‘My name is Rani Desai and I have an interview with Major Withers’

  ‘Okay, come on in, you are expected.’

  The door lock clicked and Rani took a deep breath, straightened his tie again, pushed the door open and stepped inside. He was greeted by an armed Sergeant who asked him to stand with his legs slightly apart and his arms outstretched. He was lightly frisked without further comment and was then asked to take a seat by the window. He sat there trying to look interested in the reception area and appeared to take notice of everything around him. It was an effort.

  ‘Do you have the letter?’ asked the rather frumpy looking but pleasant female receptionist. Rani pulled the envelope from his inside jacket pocket and passed it across smiling briefly.

  She glanced at it as if to ensure that it was the correct person on the right day and then pressed a couple of buttons on her phone console. After a few seconds she said, ‘Mr Desai is here for interview Major, are you ready for him?’

  After a few seconds she disconnected and asked Rani to follow her. He was led down a long and narrow dimly lit corridor with depressing blank grey walls to a solid door marked ‘Major Withers.’
/>   She knocked and then entered with Rani following her. Major Withers was a tall, imposing man in his late fifties who wore an immaculate uniform with a spectacular array of campaign stripes. He had obviously seen a lot more action than hamburgers cooking. He’d probably had to retire from active service into this less stressful role due to injuries or similar. Nevertheless, he cut a dashing figure and obviously took his role very seriously.

  He came around from behind his desk, shook hands smiling briefly and introduced himself and asked Rani to take a seat. ‘Would you like some coffee?’ ‘No thanks.’ He then introduced his Personnel Officer, Rachael Lawton, and the Catering Corps’ Transport Manager, Terry McDermott. Rachael was of medium height and an attractive woman of about thirty-five with slightly coiffured light brown hair which dropped just below her ears. She was dressed in a smart dark grey trouser suit with a white blouse and black shoes. Not expensively dressed, no overt designer gear, but still very smart. She was left handed, a detail person. Rani took note of that and pledged himself to be careful. She exuded confidence and ability. She would not be conned easily.

  Terry McDermott was the exact opposite, wearing a brown coverall over faded blue jeans and black trainers. He was of no more than medium height, had very short mid grey hair, slightly balding and would have been around forty. He did not smile but simply acknowledged Rani’s presence. His hands showed black fingernails, scars and scabs. He was an action man, probably much more at home under a truck than taking part in an interview. There wouldn’t be much he didn’t know about the base’s transport requirements. Rani noted it would important to befriend this man. That would come in handy at some point in the future.

  Everyone was relaxed trying to put Rani at ease but inside he was a knot. Breathe deeply, slowly, and relax he kept telling himself. Keep smiling, not like a village idiot, but don’t frown, don’t look too serious. Be confident but not arrogant.

  He had practised all this a thousand times with his brother but it was not easy. Not easy at all considering what was at stake.

  Major Withers opened the interview by stating that they had received Rani’s CV and were impressed. He then read extracts from it, probably more to remind him of the facts, but addressed his comments to his own staff.

  ‘Tell us about the journey you’ve made to get here today’, said Withers. Rani knew he didn’t mean the drive to the base. He thought for a second or two, constantly reminding himself to stay cool, and then said,

  ‘I was born in New Delhi, India and went to Hindu schools and colleges there.’ It was important that he establish that he was not a Muslim as soon as possible. He couldn’t afford that complication or its serious implications. ‘I came to the United States on a Student Exchange programme, graduated from Baltimore University, and eventually qualified for American Citizenship. After University I took a temporary job at McDonalds in Silver Spring and after a few months there I was offered a driving job by Parkers Catering which is how I got to know your base.’

  ‘That’s good and to the point’, said Withers and the others nodded their agreement. Withers liked to talk. He liked others to listen. ’What made you apply for this job?’

  Rani thought get the easy questions out of the way first, took a steadying breath and said, ‘I like the job with my current employers and I have done well with them over the years. I’ve got to know quite a few people on the base over the last few years. About eighty per cent of my work time is spent on this base and I always wanted to be part of this excellent organisation.’

  Withers fair glowed with pride at Rani’s latter comment. ‘What do you think makes you specifically suitable for this job?’ asked Withers who half smiled and nodded to his colleagues who still hadn’t said a word. Rani thought for a moment and guessed the next question would be ‘what are your strengths and weaknesses?’

  ‘I believe I am your ideal recruit because I am familiar with most of the Catering Corps operation within this base. I also believe that the job will be very similar to the role I have now with Parkers Catering Services’ said Rani with perhaps a touch more arrogance than he planned for. Withers nodded and looked at the others for comment. There was none.

  Withers then followed up with a series of equally banal questions, all of which Rani answered in text book fashion. He’d read so many books and articles on the art of the interview he could have written one himself.

  Don’t get cocky he told himself, they’re only doing what they think is their job. He had started to relax a little, but on a scale of one to a hundred he was still a tightly coiled spring.

  Eventually, after another half an hour or so, Withers said ‘Your references are excellent. You keep your nose clean and get on with the job. We need that, we’ve got more than sixteen thousand mouths to feed on a twenty-four hours a day basis. That’s some responsibility.’ He was slightly exaggerating but wasn’t too far off the mark. It was a huge air base. A lot of people lived on it but there were thousands of contractors and military personnel who worked there on a day to day basis.

  Rani nodded at Major Withers’ complimentary comments, unsure of whether a response was needed. The last half hour had been quite stressful. He was just about maintaining his nerve. He’d never been prepared for anything like this. The tension inside him was truly unbelievable.

  ‘You realise that as an applicant even for a civilian job on a Military installation, you have been thoroughly vetted before we invited you here today’ said Withers.

  Again Rani just nodded but allowed himself a very slight smile.

  ‘Everything checks out I’m pleased to say’, said Withers, ‘You were on a short list of two. Unfortunately the other guy has major family illness problems and has pulled out of the race. We don’t want to go through this rigmarole again, so if you’re still interested in the job, it’s yours, subject of course to you having a session each with my colleagues. Rachael here will go through the contract, health and safety, working conditions, hours of work, and your pay. Terry will take you over the yard and describe the general duties. You will, of course, have in-depth Induction Training which will last a month. After that and providing you haven’t screwed up badly, you’ll be a permanent employee of the Catering Corps.’ Withers was enjoying his own full flow. Rani was now seriously struggling to keep his guts together, his nerves were in tatters. Almost there, he thought, don’t screw it up now.

  ‘You still want to join us?’ said Withers with his friendliest face which would still have frightened most people.

  ‘Yes sir’, said Rani as coolly as he could muster being careful to maintain the level of his voice and his interest.

  ‘Okay, you go off with Rachael first and she’ll hand you over to Terry later. As long as they report back okay, you’ll get a letter in a couple of days making you a formal offer. You write back straight away, say you accept, and we’ll start your induction on’, he paused to look at the calendar, ‘27th June at 08.00, okay?’

  ‘Yes sir’ said Rani still in a daze. His hands were sweating and he could feel his pulse through the blood vessels in his forehead and temple with his heart racing. He hoped they couldn’t see his veins throbbing and was marginally relieved that no-one offered to shake his hand on the way out.

  Rachael rose from her seat and beckoned Rani to follow her. As they exited reception she turned and said, ‘Well done, he’s usually not that impressed.’ Rani smiled his thanks and continued to concentrate on the matter at hand.

  ‘It’s about three hundred yards to my office. We’ll get you comfortable in there, get a coffee if you want one now and get down to it.’ Rani noticed that she’d noticed he’d refused the offered coffee when he arrived. She was sharp and would notice everything. He’d need to be careful with her.

  ‘It shouldn’t take much more than an hour. When we’ve done I’ll give Terry a call and he’ll come over and fetch you in one of his vehicles. Ok?’

  Rani nodded and said ‘I sure could use a coffee now.’ She smiled recognising that he was s
till nervous but she wouldn’t have a clue what the real reason for that was.

  Rachael’s office was drab, one of the many drab concrete offices in a drab and very unappealing concrete building. She pointed Rani to a worn seat opposite and took her own at her desk.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘we need to run through contracts, health and safety, working hours, terms and conditions and Air Base rules, so let’s get started.’

  The coffee arrived and Rani settled in for a lengthy session, his brain already on overtime. When they’d finished Rachael thanked him for his time and attention and rang for Terry to collect him.

  Terry arrived about five minutes later in one of the trucks he’d been working on. ‘Just giving it a test run’, he said as he gave Rani an extended tour of the base. They went nowhere that Rani hadn’t been before, or nowhere that he would admit to. They passed two impressive and heavily guarded Boeing VC25’s standing on the open tarmac. These were heavily modified Boeing 747 200s with operational serial numbers of 28000 and 29000 on their tail-planes. They were better known as Air Force One and Air Force Two, although whichever one the president was travelling on had the call sign Air Force One. They were truly stunning aircraft and Rani stared ruefully at them as they drove past.

  ‘Impressive eh?’ said Terry jolting Rani out of his dream world. Rani just nodded.

  After a tour of the base that took forty minutes or so, they arrived at the ‘shed’ the huge garage, workshop and storage facility area at the southern end of the base, Terry said, ‘Just hang on here a minute I want to check on something, then I’ll give you the guided tour of our operation here’, he slipped out of the truck and went into a small office, returning a couple of minutes later.