Derhally took the passport and scanned it. “This is not an official passport.”
“Oh, sorry. Wrong one.” Habish reached inside his coat and drew his pistol. In one quick fluid motion, he stepped to one side, went into a shooter’s two-handed crouch and shot Derhally in the head. The other agent had his pistol half drawn when Habish shot him. Without hesitating, the Israeli methodically shot each man in the head again.
“Anyone else?” he asked Shoshana. She shook her head no. She was sitting in a chair in the corner, her wrists tightly manacled with plastic flexcuffs. Her hands were already red and starting to swell from lack of circulation. It was the first step in an Iraqi interrogation. Habish cut through the thick white plastic with a small penknife. “Did they contact anyone?”
“They made two calls on the car radio,” she said. “One was to a backup. His name is Fahad. I think he’s driving a gray Lada and is parked outside. Also, they checked in with their control. I heard them use my name and refer to the hotel. That’s all I could understand.” Habish was impressed. She hadn’t panicked and kept her eyes and ears open.
“Where’s Mana?”
“I don’t know.” Shoshana rubbed her hands, trying to stimulate circulation, and told everything that had happened. She left nothing out.
“So you sent the combo pen to your language teacher disguised as a birthday gift.” Habish was impressed with her quick thinking. He made a phone call, contacting Avidar with new instructions. “Help me hide these bodies and clean up this mess. We’ve got to get out of Baghdad tonight.”
The waiting was a grueling endurance contest. Shoshana envied the Mossad agent who used the language school as her cover for she went about her business as if everything was normal. Shoshana couldn’t match the teacher’s cool facade and her agitation kept breaking through as the minutes dragged.
“The flowers will come,” the petite woman assured her.
“Where’s Habish?” Shoshana wondered. “I thought he’d be back by now.”
“Like the flowers …” They fell back into their waiting.
The clock read 5:32 when Habish returned. He was all business. “We’re rolling up our operation here,” he told the two women. “Avidar is putting the final touches on the new passport and exit visa you’ll need. I’m working on the assumption that Al Mukhabaret has got yours from the hotel and instructed the desk clerk to report anyone asking about you.” He looked at the woman who ran the school. “Can you get out on your own?” The woman nodded and left. Neither Habish nor Shoshana knew how she would leave Iraq. They assumed she would use her contacts with Kurdish rebels to move her through northern Iraq and into Turkey, but if Habish or Shoshana were captured, they could not reveal where she went. Likewise, she did not know how they were escaping out of Iraq.
“We’ve got to move fast,” Habish said and handed her a Walther exactly like the one he carried. Shoshana checked it over as he talked and dropped it into her handbag. “There’s only one flight leaving tonight in three hours. Swiss Air. You’re on it.” For the first time, she saw a hint of nervousness play across Habish’s face. “We’ve got to get that combo pen out.”
The minutes now flew by as the scheduled departure time approached. Finally, Habish could wait no longer. “The clerk in the gift shop will probably deliver the flowers herself after the shop closes. Too late.”
“Why don’t I go pick the flowers up?” Shoshana volunteered.
“Too dangerous. Someone might be waiting for you.”
Shoshana thought for a minute. “Maybe not. Derhally really thought I was a Canadian citizen.” Habish gave her a quizzical look. “I heard them mention Canada three times over the car radio and when you walked in, he did believe you were from the Canadian embassy.” Habish was almost convinced. “I’ve picked up enough Arabic to understand some of what they were saying and I think they were still sorting this out, not sure of what they were on to.”
Habish bought it. “It’s worth a try. Zeev should be here in a few minutes. We’ll leave him here to wait for the flowers if they arrived while we go to the hotel. I’ll put on my Canadian official act at the front desk and ask for you. If anyone is watching the hotel, that should cause a distraction. You go into the gift shop and check on the flowers.”
Ten minutes later, Shoshana was walking out of the gift shop carrying the flowers with the happy birthday card and combo pen clearly visible. Habish was still talking to the desk clerk when she ran into Mana.
“Where have you been?” Mana asked. He was excited and shaking. His eyes widened when he saw the brightly wrapped tube stuck in the flowers. “What is going on?” He snatched the combo pen out of the flowers and peeled the aluminum foil back. The dark olive green tube stood in dark contrast to its bright wrapper. He grabbed her upper arm and, for once, Shoshana was surprised by his strength.
Adrenaline, Shoshana thought, I hope he isn’t thinking too clearly. “Is’al, it isn’t what you think.” He stared at her in disbelief. “I am a Canadian and work for a firm that specializes in industrial security. Your government contracted with us… But I never thought I would fall in love with you… Up in my room … the proof …”
Mana wanted to believe her and nodded dumbly. She could feel the strength drain from his grip. “Come,” she said, breaking his grip and moving toward the elevator. “Let’s go to my room.” She caught Habish’s attention just as the elevator doors closed on them. Smiling at Mana she lightly drew her fingers over his crotch. “Perhaps afterward?” It was a mistake and she could see the doubt flare in his eyes at the obvious sexual ploy. They rode in silence. Mana still had not said a word when she opened the door to her room. “You’ll see,” she promised.
The Iraqi barged past her into the room. She closed the door behind them after making sure no one was in the hall. Her travel clock beside the bed said she had less than an hour to reach the airport. Time had run out. “What you need is in the stationery box,” she said, pointing to the dresser. He jerked a drawer open and spilled the contents on the floor. She reached into her handbag and grabbed the Walther Habish had given her. She didn’t pull it out but walked across the room to Mana. “It’s in the next drawer,” she told him. Again, he jerked a drawer open.
His back was to her and his head bent over when she dropped her handbag and freed the Walther. In one quick motion, she raised the weapon and pulled the slide back, chambering a round. It was the motion she had practiced over a thousand times while in training and the words of her instructor came back, dominating her actions: “You pull a gun, you’ve blown your cover. So you shoot. When you shoot, you kill.”
The last sounds Is’al Mana heard were the click of the slide ramming a shell home and a phut. Her instructor had repeatedly shouted at her, “Always shoot twice.” She did as she had been taught.
Habish was standing in the hall when she locked the door behind her. “Where did you hide him?” he asked.
“In a closet behind some clothes.” She had covered him with the same black dress she had bought in Marbella to seduce him.
Habish nodded. That might give them a little more time before a maid discovered the body. He could see tears in her eyes. “Don’t let up now,” he cautioned.
In the lobby, Habish phoned Zeev Avidar at the language school and made some vague references to buying a replacement computer. Avidar understood that he was to meet them on the road outside the airport with new documents and the luggage Shoshana would need to get through immigration.
The traffic on Abu Nuwas Street was jammed up for three blocks as cars and trucks fought to cross the Jumhuiya Bridge over the Tigris River. Habish turned down a side street and headed for the Ahrar Bridge, a kilometer upstream. The traffic was insane, trying to cross the only two bridges that had been repaired after the war. Once across the river, they had to double back to make contact with Avidar. Fortunately, the traffic was now light and Habish was able to make good time. A half kilometer short of the airport, the traffic piled up again and there was still no sign of Avidar. Habish checked his watch. “Thirty minutes,” he muttered.