Ops Files II--Terror Alert Read Online Free PDF Page A

it would take to cover the distance to the unused airfield where they’d rendezvous with his plane. After a final check with the Geiger counter, Vladimir gave the word, and the procession of snowmobiles retraced the route south, moving with ponderous deliberation lest their precious cargo break free and endanger them all.
    Minutes later, tranquility settled once again on the desolate stretch of frozen coast, the intrusion of the snowmobiles, like prior incursions by humans, a temporary disruption in the timeless freeze. The lighthouse’s crumbling tower jutted impotently into the arctic air like a broken digit on a giant hand gesturing obscenely at the frigid landscape, and the vehicle tracks were already vanishing as the ruts filled with snow.

Chapter 5
    Tel Aviv, Israel
     
    Yael sat forward at the conference table, struck again by how young the two analysts across from him appeared to be. Had he ever been like them? So…new to the world, so green? It seemed impossible, yet the calendar didn’t lie. It wasn’t that they were children; it was that he had somehow grown old, robbed of years by the thief of time even as he’d deluded himself that the rules of aging didn’t apply to him.
    He stared down at his hands – an old man’s hands, liver spotted and wrinkled. His joints were slightly swollen from arthritis that came and went like the autumn wind. The nails were yellowed from smoking and ridged, the striations a harsh reminder of his waning twilight on the planet. When he spoke, his voice sounded rough, grating, like sandpaper on stone.
    “I can’t believe that with all our technology the best we can do is a shoulder shrug,” he growled.
    “I’m sorry, sir. It’s inconclusive. Of the two subjects, one could be Hasim Farudah, but it’s impossible to be sure from the image.”
    “Farudah,” Yael repeated. His subordinate slid a thin file to him. He opened it and scanned the four photographs inside along with a single-page dossier, and then flipped the file closed and leaned back in his chair. “Let’s assume that it was. What does that tell us?”
    “Not a lot. I mean, he’s suspected as a go-between, last affiliated with a splinter group that broke from Hamas, but his role is unclear at this time.”
    “Is that a long way, like the ridiculous description in the file, of saying we don’t know anything about him?”
    The two analysts nodded uncomfortably. Levi, the eldest, frowned. “As you know, they’re like cockroaches. New ones pop up constantly. It’s impossible to have complete information on every minor player…”
    “And again, we don’t even know that it’s actually Farudah,” Adam, the other analyst, reminded him.
    “Gentlemen, our field office believes that these men met with a religious leader who’s crossed over to a hard-line fundamentalist school of thought. If that’s the case, we might have a situation developing. It’s of vital importance that I have an accurate idea of who these men are.”
    “We’ll need more images, sir. Higher resolution, if possible. Video would be better. Given what we have, this is the best we can do. I’m sorry,” Levi said.
    Yael snorted. “A definite maybe.” He slid the file back to Levi. “Very well. That’s all for now. Keep running analysis on it just in case one of the other tools can narrow it down from a coin toss.”
    When the men left, Yael sat staring at the whiteboard for several long moments before returning to his office. He couldn’t blame the analysts – he’d known when he’d seen the shots that they would need a small miracle to get definitive identification on the subjects. But he still had the problem with Uri, who he suspected wouldn’t take no for an answer. Uri, who came from the old school, where perseverance was more important than diplomacy, and who was as stubborn as a dromedary.
    Yael made several phone calls, and when he was finished, believed he had come up with a solution. He didn’t want to commit any