Grains of Truth (45 page)

“Emotionally, psychologically, we will see.”

Alexander looked down at his hands, braced on the tops of his thighs. Conflict ripped away inside—the final tableau repeating over and over in his head. He knew, with absolute certainty, that when Julia cried that last denial, it was directed as much at herself as anyone. And that when he hesitated, that fraction of a second could’ve cost both their lives.

Henrietta straightened her weary shoulders. “Now, I’m sure we all understand the complexities of the human mind under such trying circumstances. Kidnap victims often bond with their captors and it may take a while for a complete and healthy recovery. Julia is a strong and independent woman. Nevertheless, she has been through a shocking ordeal. We mustn’t expect too much too soon.”

Again, no one spoke.

“And now, if I may,” continued Henrietta in a firm voice as she pushed herself from her chair, “I suggest we all go to our rooms and try to get some rest. There will be plenty of time for discussion tomorrow.”

Midnight had long since passed.

There definitely would be plenty of time, as Brad had arranged for several comfortable rooms to be provided indefinitely at one of the luxury resorts in Nuweiba—courtesy of the U.S. government. Bob Bronson was adamant about their sheltering from the press and taking as much time as necessary to determine what their official statement would eventually be. Circumstances surrounding the violent attack and subsequent death of several of the militants had been, thus far, kept under a gag order. 

Egyptian Intelligence was necessarily informed, with as much information as they “needed to know.” Their security forces confronted the gun smugglers, killing several in the ensuing battle.

The local authorities were at first irate to learn of the operation in their jurisdiction without their knowledge or consent. The blustering rebuke subsided rather quickly when they became aware that the American agent knew of their financially-induced dereliction of duty, and that it would be in their best interest to go along with his suggestions.

The subversive activities of Egyptian Nationals within their own country would be extremely embarrassing should that information find its way to the international media. Not to mention detrimental to the role the Egyptian government went to such great pains to craft for itself as peacemakers in the Middle East conflict.

Brad Caldwell flinched yet remained immoveable when, as part of the briefing with the Egyptians, he insisted on a complete pardon for Mohamed. He did not, to his credit, waver in his insistence that Mohamed had been—in the beginning an unknowing, and later, an unwilling—participant in the operation. Brad made it crystal clear that any actions against him would be considered as hostile towards the United States.

The thinly-veiled threat was readily understood. Brad didn’t like making it, but he found the alternative much more intimidating: He would’ve had to face Henrietta Langley. And Julia. No, on the whole, taking on the entire Egyptian government was preferable, by far.  

Joshoa left by ambulance for the local hospital, such as it was, in serious condition; but the prognosis seemed hopeful. The Jordanian passport he carried should keep him safe from the press, if not the Egyptian authorities.

Full-scale operations were underway within Israel and its surrounding borders to locate and confiscate the remaining weapons. As far as the world would ever know, this most recent blow-up was yet another chapter in the on-going conflict.

~

Concerned and caring faces greeted Julia as she emerged from the bedroom into the crowded sitting room just before noon the following day. Though pale and drawn, with purple smudges beneath somber eyes, she bore no visible signs of mistreatment.

Mohamed stepped out behind her and went to station himself by the window. They’d been together for the past hour and seemed to reach an understanding. His enigmatic face gave no indication as to what that understanding might be. 

A faint smile briefly lifted her chapped lips before Julia said, “Please, don’t get up.” All the men had risen instantly at the opening of the door. 

It took every ounce of self control Alexander Bryant possessed not to take her and crush her in his arms. Staying away from her bedside throughout the long, endless night stretched his willpower to almost unendurable limits. Although the dark, unreadable eyes of the Egyptian told nothing of what transpired behind the closed door, the calm way Mohamed Zahar stood troubled him deeply.

Linda came to her feet and broke the awkward silence by greeting Julia with an outstretched hand. “Good morning, Ms. Grant. I’m Linda Boyd from U.S. Intelligence. Please let me be the first to congratulate you and thank you for your brave service. We’re all delighted to have you back, safe and sound.”

Bless her levelheaded heart, thought Brad as he followed suit and sheepishly offered his hand with heartfelt words of gratitude.

An almost audible sigh of relief filled the air as everyone joined in with congratulations. Henrietta kissed Julia on the cheek and guided the conversation along. While not yet celebratory, the mood lightened considerably.

Sarah, who retired after sitting by Julia’s side for most of the night, resurfaced from the suite’s other bedroom. With green eyes aglow, she bestowed a brilliant smile on the group and declared, “I’m starving. Where’s lunch? ”

Whatever tension remained dissolved in an eruption of laughter. Sarah marched across the room, grabbed her friend’s hand and towed her to the sofa. Brad located the room service menu and ordered two of everything on it. They all started to talk at once and the celebration began.

“I know you’re all wondering if I’m going to go psycho after this,” Julia announced quietly once the group consumed most of the feast. Her tenuous smile came close to breaking Alexander’s heart.

“I am sorry for Ahmed’s death. The same way I’d be sorry for the death of any rabid creature. Sorry for the waste of it all.” She made a valiant effort to control the tremor in her voice. “And it doesn’t matter whether the bullet that killed him came from my gun or one of the others.” She raised her chin. “The point is that I fired it. And I would do it again if I had to.”

Ahmed made his choice. She felt little guilt for his death—mostly remorse for the waste of his life. No doubt, that horrific scene was forever etched in her mind. She would just have to learn to live with it. Julia looked down at her dry hands, the cuts and scrapes now clean of the blood that stained them only hours ago. Aware that her friends, old and new, were trying not to look too obvious as they regarded her with concern, she looked up with a hint of her old pluck. 

“There’s a beautiful beach down there. Are you guys planning to ever let us out of here for a little fresh air?” With remarkable composure, she rose to face Alexander. “We need to talk.” Then her head swiveled to Brad Caldwell. “And you’re next.”

~

Julia strolled between Alexander Bryant and Brad Caldwell along the sandy beach. Gentle waves lapped at the shore while Brad delivered a thorough summary of all that transpired after she was taken away from the warehouse.

Besides Ahmed, several of his men also died. The Egyptian military rounded up and arrested a number of the militants involved in the arms deal, along with several others found at the flat in Dahab. They successfully confiscated all the handguns, as well as a cache of automatic rifles hidden in the tunnel. The prisoners would be kept in detention and, hopefully, more information about the operation could be extracted from them.

Julia shuddered at that thought. Much controversy headlined the news of late over illegal detention centers in several countries where the rules governing torture could be circumvented. Egypt featured prominently on the list. Even after all she’d been through, Julia still hated the idea.

“Why did they want the guns delivered in Egypt instead of Jordan?”

“We can only surmise that the efficiency of the Jordanian secret service made it too risky.” Brad didn’t have to say how easy it was to bribe Egyptian officials. “But don’t forget, ninety-five percent of the Jordanian population is Sunni Muslim. It wouldn’t be difficult for them to find allies there to bring the weapons across in smaller quantities.”

“What about Faoud?”

He shook his head. “Disappeared. But a warrant is out on him. With that ugly mug, we’ll get him sooner or later.”

“Have you learned who killed Abeer Rashad? Or Zed?”

Again, Brad shook his head. “Unfortunately, we’ll probably never know.”

“And the chemicals?”

Before Julia had allowed herself to escape the ghastly scene, she’d led her rescuers to those new trunks in the warehouse. It was not difficult for her to deduce what might be in them. Everyone looked stunned. Stunned and relieved.

“Agent 15. Exposure in aerosolized form induces symptoms within half an hour.” Brad’s next words painted a gruesome picture. “It causes dizziness, vomiting and hallucinations that can last for several days. The amount we found would be enough to neutralize all of Jerusalem, as well as the area around the nuclear facility for miles.”

Julia’s heels dug into the sand as the hideous image spread itself across her mind. “How? Where did it come from?”

“Our best guess is Iraq,” said Alex. “When I was deployed there, we heard rumors of it being produced and stockpiled in large quantities. When the invasion became a certainty, Saddam Hussein’s government would have been only too willing to sell a portion of it at a reasonable price. This crowd got hold of it and managed to smuggle it into Egypt. It would’ve been too risky to keep it in Jordan.”

Brad grimaced. “They may have stashed it in Mallawi.”

“So that’s why Abeer Rashad was there when she was killed,” Julia whispered.

Brad nodded. “Maybe. The Egyptians are tearing the place apart, even as we speak.”

Julia turned to face the two men, hands tightly clasped before her. “But I don’t understand. I thought the message meant they were planning to kill the people of Jerusalem. It doesn’t sound like this Agent 15 would do that. Would it?”

Alex shook his head with a sigh. “You know that public opinion in the Islamic world has become increasingly negative towards the Jihadists after the terrorist bombings that have killed so many Muslims. We are again surmising, you understand. The plan may have been to take advantage of the debilitating effects of the gas to move in and eliminate only non-Muslims. That’s what we think the handguns were for.”

He’d suspected something of the sort all along.

Julia thought things couldn’t possibly be more horrendous. The image of men moving purposefully through the holy city, working their way through the entire population writhing in agony from the awful gas, killing in cold blood any who they deemed an Infidel, brought with it a feeling of heretofore unimaginable sorrow.

Brad covered her hands with his own. “You should be very proud of your part in all this, Julia. Without your help, we might not have been able to stop them. It was a very clever and devious plot, a long time in the making. They used multiple sources of finance and multiple ‘vendors’ to amass a substantial arsenal. This would’ve made it near impossible to stop the attack. Numerous cells must’ve been involved, most of them knowing only their role in the plan. Only a select few were in on the big picture.”

He squeezed her hands before letting go. “We suspect Ahmed as architect of the plan. The critical component of the entire operation was the ability to immobilize ‘enemy’ forces on the ground. He was evidently responsible for getting the chemicals into Israel.”

Brad refrained from saying that her help in smuggling the chemicals from Egypt to Jordan, had it come to that, would have made the plan much easier to accomplish. The trunks containing the Agent 15 were now on board a U.S. naval ship—unbeknownst to the Egyptian government—on the way to safe destruction. 

“The Israelis discovered several planes, used for crop dusting, hidden in three different locations in the Negev Desert,” Alex added quietly. “It has yet to be verified, but the planes are thought to have been stolen in Iran, Syria and Jordan over the past several months. By using them to spray the gas, those countries would be implicated in the attack.”

The scope of the awesomely evil plot humbled them all.

~

Julia was apprised of the involvement of the two Mossad officers and, after being introduced to Benjamin, insisted on going to the hospital to personally thank Joshoa. Had he not come crashing through those windows, either she or Alex would surely have been the victim. In a quirk of fate—in addition to a shot from Ahmed’s rifle—a bullet from Joshoa’s own gun ricocheted off the wall to strike him in the chest, narrowly missing his heart. In his attempt to slay his enemy, he’d almost been killed by his own hand.

A somber nurse led Julia down the hall of the shabby hospital. The level of hygiene—or lack thereof—tempered her already sober thoughts. She carried a bouquet of creamy white peonies, fittingly imported from one of Israel’s hugely successful flower farms. How was it, her impudent inner voice queried, that the Israelis had managed to tame the arid land so quickly where the Palestinians had failed for so long?

With a sidelong glance at Alexander, who—along with Brad—flanked her protectively while Mohamed brought up the rear, she promised herself that this was something she would learn more about.