Once she was back in the Chamber she removed another rag from the cleaning box and began polishing the table until she was in a position where no one could see her from either passageway. She then lowered herself slowly onto her knees until she was below the table, and let the cardboard tube fall to the floor in front of her. She quickly flicked off the cap, to find the cylinder wasn’t empty. She pulled out the parchment, unrolled it and studied it in disbelief: a magnificent copy of the Declaration of Independence, obviously made by a craftsman, even if someone had tried to deface it. She realized immediately that Simon must have been hoping to find some way of switching the copy for the original.
Kratz watched Scott follow General Hamil into the building, then walked slowly across to the truck and climbed into the cab. He stared through the front window. No one was taking any particular interest in what they were up to.
“This is too easy,” he said. “Far too easy.” Cohen and Aziz looked straight ahead, but didn’t offer an opinion. “If Hamil is involved, they must suspect something. The time has come for us to find out who knows what.”
“What do you have in mind, sir?” asked Cohen.
“I have a feeling that our switchboard Major isn’t fully aware of what’s going on. Either they haven’t briefed him, or they think he’s not up to the job.”
“Or both,” suggested Aziz.
Kratz nodded. “Or both. So let’s find out. Aziz, I want you and Cohen to take a stroll down to the barrier. Tell the guards that you’re going for something to eat, and that you’ll be back in a few minutes. If they refuse to let you through, we’ve got a real problem, because that will mean they know what we’re up to. In which case, come back to the cab and I’ll start working on what we have to do next.”
“And if they let us through?” asked Cohen.
“Get out of sight,” said Kratz, “but keep in visual contact with the truck. That shouldn’t be too hard, with these gawking crowds. If Professor Bradley comes out with his cardboard tube and I rest my arm on the window ledge as I’m doing now, get back here fast, because we won’t want to be hanging about. And by the way, Cohen: if I’m not around for any reason, and the professor should suggest a detour to the Foreign Ministry, overrule him. Your only job is to get him over the border.” Cohen nodded, without a clue what the Colonel was talking about. “But if you spot that we’re in trouble, keep well out of the way for one hour, and then pray that the whopper works.”
“Understood, sir,” said Cohen.
“Take the keys with you,” said Kratz. “Now get going.”
Kratz stepped back down onto the tarmac, strolled over to where Major Saeed was listening to one of his interminable phone calls and placed himself a few feet to Saeed’s left as if wanting to attract his attention. At the same time he looked over his shoulder to watch Aziz and Cohen walking towards the barrier.
Kratz continued to try and attract the Major’s attention as he watched Aziz come to a halt at the barrier and start joking with one of the guards.
A few moments later he saw both of his men step under the barrier. Within seconds they were lost in the crowd.
Major Saeed came off the phone. “What is the problem this time?” he asked. Kratz took out a cigarette and asked the Major for a light.
“Don’t smoke,” he said, and waved him away.
Kratz walked slowly back to the cab and took his place behind the steering wheel, his eyes never leaving the open doorway of the Ba’ath Party headquarters.
Hannah stared at the Declaration hanging on the wall. It was only a few paces away from her. She waited until she heard another roar of laughter from the soldiers before walking over to the document and quickly trying to remove the nails. Three came out with the minimum of effort, but the one at the top right-hand corner refused to budge, and the Declaration continued to dangle from it. After a few more seconds, she felt she was left with no choice but to ease the document over the head of the nail. Once the parchment was in her hand she went back to the table, placed the original on the floor and returned quickly to attach the copy to the wall.
She hardly glanced at her handiwork before she turned back to the table, knelt on the ground and rapidly rolled up the original, replacing it in the cylinder. Once again she tucked it under her skirt. It had been the longest two minutes of her life. She remained on her knees, trying to think. She knew she couldn’t risk trying to get the tube out of the building, as the guards might decide to “search” her again. There was no alternative. She walked quickly back down the short corridor and was in the safe even before the two soldiers had stopped talking. She let the cylinder fall to the floor, then pushed it back into the darkest corner, exactly where she had first seen it. Then she picked up the duster and polish she had left behind, stepped back out of the safe and showed them to the soldiers and ran back down the corridor towards the Chamber.
Hannah knew she must get out of the building as quickly as possible, and somehow pass a message to Simon. And then she heard the voices.
The elevator doors slid apart at the basement floor. The General stepped out into the corridor and headed towards the Council Chamber.
“And just how large is this safe?” the General asked Scott.
“Nine feet in height, seven feet in width and eight feet in depth,” responded Scott immediately. “You could hold a private meeting in there if you wished to, General.”
“Is that so?” said Hamil. “But I am informed the safe can only be operated by one person. Is that true?”
“That is correct, General. We followed the exact specifications your government requested.”
“I am also told that the safe can withstand a nuclear attack. Is that the case?”
“Yes,” replied Scott. “The safe has a six-inch skin and would be unaffected by any explosion other than a direct hit. In any other circumstances, everything in the safe would be preserved, even if the building it was standing in was completely demolished.”
“Impressive,” said the General as the guards sprang to attention and he touched the rim of his beret with his swagger stick. He marched into the Chamber and Scott followed, annoyed to find there was a woman polishing the table. He certainly didn’t need her hanging around when he came back out. The General didn’t even look at Hannah as he strode through the Chamber.
Scott glanced across at the parchment before he followed the General out of the room.
“Ah,” Hannah heard the General say when he was still several yards from the end of the corridor. “Pure statistics don’t do your safe justice, Mr. Bernstrom.” The two soldiers remained rigidly at attention as the General studied the safe for some time, before stepping inside. When he saw the cardboard tube on the floor he bent down and picked it up.
“Just to protect the picture,” explained Scott, as he stepped in to join him. He pointed to the portrait of Saddam Hussein.
“You are a thorough man, Mr. Bernstrom,” said Hamil. “You would have made an excellent colonel in one of my regiments.” He laughed and passed the cardboard tube over to Scott.
Hannah listened intently to every word, and concluded that she must get out of the building as quickly as possible and alert Kratz to what she had done.
“Would you like me to show you how to program the safe?” she heard Scott ask as she reached the entrance of the Chamber.
“No, no, not me,” said General Hamil. “The President will be the only one who will be allowed to operate the safe.” Those were the last words Hannah heard as she walked out of the Chamber, past the guards and continued purposefully down the long corridor.
When she reached the doors that led to the staircase she turned back to see the General striding into the Chamber and, some way behind him, Scott following. He was holding the tube.
Hannah wanted to scream with delight.
Scott realized he would never be given a chance to carry out the switch once Saddam was in the building. When he reached the Chamber he allowed the General to get a few paces ahead of him. His
eyes swept the room, and he was relieved to find the cleaner was no longer anywhere to be seen. The guards sprang to attention as the General strode out of the Council Chamber into the far corridor.
Scott stared at the alarm button on the wall ahead of him. “Don’t look around,” he begged under his breath as he kept his eyes on the retreating back of the General. With a yard to go before he reached the door, Scott lunged forward and jabbed his thumb on the red button. The doors immediately slammed closed and clamped with a deafening noise.
Hannah was just about to push open the door that led to the back stairs when the alarm gave out a piercing sound and all the exits were immediately bolted. She turned to discover she was alone in the corridor with General Hamil and four of his Republican Guards.
The General smiled at her. “Miss Kopec, I believe. I’m delighted to make your acquaintance. I fear it will be a couple of minutes before Professor Bradley is able to join us.”
The guards surrounded Hannah as the General looked up at a television screen above the door. He watched as Scott, inside the Chamber, pressed a button on the side of his watch. Scott then ran over to the wall, quickly extracted the copy of the document from the tube and checked it against the original. He felt he had done a fair job back in the cab of the truck, but he spat on Lewis Morris and John Witherspoon for good measure, then spent a few seconds rubbing the parchment on the stone floor before comparing it once again to the one on the wall. He looked at his watch: forty-five seconds. He began to pull the nails out of the wall, but was unable to get the top right-hand one to budge, so he eased the Declaration over its head. Sixty seconds.
Hannah stared up at the television screen in horror, watching Simon undo all her work, while the General made a phone call.
Once Scott had removed the document from the wall he placed it on the table. He then fastened the Declaration that he had taken out of the cardboard cylinder back on the wall, easing the parchment over the nail in the top right-hand corner, which still stubbornly refused to budge. Ninety seconds. He picked up Dollar Bill’s copy from the table, rolled it up and dropped it into the cylinder. One hundred and ten seconds. He walked over to the door that led to the elevators and stood inhaling deeply for a moment before the alarm stopped and the doors swung open.
Scott knew that it would take them a few minutes before the source of the alarm could be checked, so when he saw the General, he shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
Kratz sat on the front seat of the truck, keeping a wary eye on Major Saeed. There was a ringing sound: Saeed pressed a button and placed the phone to his ear. Suddenly, without warning, he turned, whipped out his pistol and looked anxiously towards the cab. He barked out an order, and within seconds every soldier in sight surrounded the truck, their rifles pointing directly at Kratz.
The Major rushed up. “Where are the other two?” he demanded. Kratz shrugged his shoulders. Saeed turned on his heels and ran into the building, shouting another order as he went.
Kratz placed his right hand over his left wrist and slowly began to unpeel the plaster, a second skin, secreted beneath his watch. He delicately removed the tiny green pill stuck to the plaster and transferred it to the palm of his hand. Sixty or seventy eyes were staring at him. He began coughing, and slowly put his hand up to his mouth, lowered his head and swallowed the pill.
Saeed came rushing back out of the building and began barking new orders. Within seconds, a car pulled up beside the truck.
“Out!” the Major screamed at Kratz, who stepped down onto the tarmac and allowed a dozen fixed bayonets to guide him toward the back door of the car. He was pushed onto the seat, and two men in dark suits took a place on either side of him. One quickly turned him and tied his hands behind his back, while the other blindfolded him.
Cohen and Aziz watched from the other side of the Square as the car sped away from them.
Chapter Thirty-One
The General returned Scott’s smile.
“I won’t introduce you to Miss Saib,” he said, “since I believe you’ve already met.”
Scott looked blank as he stared at the woman dressed in a black abaya and a pushi that covered her face. She was surrounded by four soldiers, their bayonets drawn.
“We have a lot to thank Miss Saib for, because of course it was she who led us to you in the first place, not to mention her postcard to Mrs. Rubin that helped you find the Declaration so quickly. We did try to make it as easy as possible for you.”
“I don’t know Miss Saib,” said Scott.
“Oh, come, Professor—or should I call you Agent Bradley? I admire your gallantry, but while you may claim not to know Miss Saib, you certainly know Hannah Kopec,” the General said as he ripped off Hannah’s pushi.
Scott stared at Hannah, but still said nothing.
“Ah, I see you do remember her. But then, it would be hard to forget someone who tried to kill you, wouldn’t it?”
Hannah’s eyes pleaded with Scott.
“How touching, my dear, he’s forgiven you. But I fear I don’t share his forgiving nature.” The General turned to see Major Saeed running towards him. He listened carefully to what the Major whispered to him, then began banging his swagger stick rapidly against his long leather boots.
“You’re a fool!” he shouted at the top of his voice, and suddenly struck the Major across the face with his swagger stick.
He turned back to face Scott. “It seems,” he said, “that the reunion I had planned for you and your friends will have to wait a little longer, because although we have Colonel Kratz safely locked up, the Jew and the Kurdish traitor have escaped. But it can only be a matter of time before we catch them.”
“How long have you known?” asked Hannah quietly.
“You made the mistake so many of our enemies make, Miss Kopec, of underestimating our great President,” replied the General. “He dominates the affairs of the Middle East to a far greater extent than Gorbachev did the Russians, Thatcher the British or Bush the American people. I ask myself, how many citizens in the West any longer believe the Allies won the Gulf War? But then, you were also stupid enough to underrate his cousin, Abdul Kanuk, our newly appointed Ambassador to Paris. Perhaps he wasn’t quite that stupid when he followed you all the way to your lover’s flat and stood in a doorway the rest of the night before following you back to the embassy. It was he who informed our Ambassador in Geneva what ‘Miss Saib’ was up to.
“Of course, we needed to be sure, not least because our Deputy Foreign Minister found it so hard to accept such a tale about one of his most loyal members of staff. Such a naïve man. So, when you came to Baghdad, the Ambassador’s wife invited Miss Saib’s brother to dinner. But, sadly he didn’t recognize you. Your cover, as the more vulgar American papers would describe it, was blown. Those same papers keep asking pathetically, ‘Why doesn’t Mossad assassinate President Saddam?’ If only they knew how many times Mossad has tried and failed. What Colonel Kratz didn’t tell you at your training school in Herzliyah, Miss Kopec, was that you are the seventeenth Mossad agent who has attempted to infiltrate our ranks during the past five years, and all of them have experienced the same tragic end as your Colonel is about to. And the real beauty of the whole exercise is that we don’t have to admit we killed any of you in the first place. You see, the Jewish people are unwilling to accept, after Entebbe and Eichmann, that such a thing could possibly happen. I feel sure you will appreciate the logic of that, Professor.”
“I’ll make a bargain with you,” said Scott.
“I’m touched, Professor, by your Western ethics, but I fear you have nothing to bargain with.”
“We’ll trade Miss Saib if you release Hannah.”
The General burst out laughing. “Professor, you have a keen sense of the ridiculous, but I won’t insult you by suggesting that you don’t understand the Arab mind. Do allow me to explain. You will be killed, and no one will comment because, as I have already explained, the West is too proud to admit that you even exist. Wherea
s we in the East will throw our hands in the air and ask why Mossad has kidnapped a gentle, blameless secretary on her way to Paris, and is now holding her in Tel Aviv against her will. We even know the house where she is captive. We have already arranged for sentimental pictures of her to be released to every paper in the Western world, and a distraught mother and son have been coached for weeks by one of your own public relations companies to face the Western press. We’ll even have Amnesty International protesting outside Israeli embassies across the world on her behalf.”
Scott stared at the General.
“Poor Miss Saib will be released within days. Both of you, on the other hand, will die an unannounced, unheralded and unmourned death. To think that all you sacrificed your lives for was a scrap of paper. And while we’re on that subject, Professor, I will relieve you of the Declaration.”
The four soldiers stepped forward and thrust their bayonets at Scott’s throat as the General snatched the cardboard tube from his grasp.
“You did well to switch the documents in two minutes, Professor,” said the General, glancing up at the television screen above him. “But you can be assured that it remains our intention to burn the original very publicly on the Fourth of July, and I feel confident that we will destroy President Clinton’s flimsy reputation along with it.” The General laughed. “You know, Professor, I have for many years enjoyed killing people, but I shall gain a particular pleasure from your deaths, because of the appropriate way you will be departing this world.”
The soldiers surrounded Hannah and Scott and forced them back into the Chamber and on towards the short corridor. The General followed them down the passage. They all came to a halt in front of the open safe.
“Allow me,” said General Hamil, “to inform you of one statistic you failed to mention, Professor, when you briefed me on this amazing feat of engineering. Perhaps you simply didn’t know, although I am bound to admit that you have done your homework thoroughly. But did you realize that one person locked in a safe of this size, with a capacity of 504 cubic feet, can only hope to survive for six hours? I do not yet know the exact length of time two people can hope to survive while sharing the same amount of oxygen. But I will very shortly.” He removed a stopwatch from his pocket, waved his swagger stick and the soldiers hurled first Hannah and then Scott into the safe. The smile remained on the General’s face as two of the soldiers pushed the massive door closed. The lights all began flashing red.