Chapter 44
The car bounced down the dusty road towards a gate in a chain link fence. A guard outpost stood by the gate, and several very serious men checked Shlomi and Ziad's credentials (Ziad had a fake Israeli passport and fake papers declaring him to be Shlomi's assistant from the Mossad). The car was searched inside and out, as were Ziad and Shlomi.
The level of security seemed out of place considering the sleepy military base beyond the gate. A South African flag lazy flapped around its pole in the small parade ground. A few soldiers went about their duties. Ziad's by now-experienced eye detected a number of other discrepancies that belied the true nature of the facility. Well-camouflaged sniper-hides were ensconced in fake trees and bushes scattered intermittently around the compound. All doors had state-of-the-art electronic locks. The buildings were all built extremely well, lacking the usual military expediences and cheapness inherent in most military bases.
Vastrap II Airfield, Kalahari Desert, South Africa.
The base squatted arrogantly in the desert, hiding its deadly secret.
The car eased its way to the largest building in the compound. Ziad and Shlomi stepped out and slipped on aviator sunglasses to defend against the searing South African sun.
An officer greeted them.
"Good morning Mr. Bar-Dayan, Mr. Cohen. My name is Major Piet Smit, South African Air Force."
"If what you told Israel is true, Major Smit, this is most certainly not a good morning."
Major Smit laughed mirthlessly.
"This is not something one jokes or lies about, Mr. Bar-Dayan. It pains us to even admit the existence of our nuclear program to even our closest collaborators. To admit the disappearance, nay, the theft! Of our warheads is, frankly, humiliating."
"As it should be," grunted Shlomi.
Major Smit led them into the building and to an otherwise nondescript elevator. The numbers were arranged in the opposite order as usual- with "1" being on the top and "50" being on the bottom.
Smit pressed the "50."
The elevator jerked once and began going down.
"Naturally," muttered Ziad.
After five minutes of descent, Ziad's ears began to pop. Finally the lift shuddered to a stop and the doors opened, revealing a crowded and panicked operations center beyond. Technicians typed frantically on computers, armed guards watched everyone with a wary eye, and officers scurried back and forth whispering urgently to each other. At the far end was a glass-walled conference center with six men sitting in aging faded leather chairs. Three black suited government-types and three military-types.
Major Smit opened the door and beckoned for Ziad and Smit to enter.
"This is the Israeli delegation," he said to the gathered officials. "Shlomi Bar-Dayan of Shin Bet and Oshri Cohen of Mossad."
The six seated men nodded in acknowledgment.
The level of seriousness in the room was too damn high.
But then again... Nuclear weapons gone missing is a pretty serious topic.
The highest-ranking military man (the one with the most random metal and cloth crap on his uniform) opened a vast notebook filled with images and papers and boring stuff.
"Well, to begin-" he began.
"Let's cut to the chase," interrupted Shlomi, "Do any of you have any idea who stole the nukes or where they are now?"'
The officer stared at Shlomi for a second.
"Um..."
One of the government-types leaned forward and removed his sunglasses (underground, no less!).
"To put it equally bluntly... Yes. We have an idea."
Shlomi's eyes narrowed. Ziad realized he hadn't taken off his sunglasses either. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass walls.
He looked pretty cool. Really G-Man. Tres Bond. Like the Arabic James Bond the world needed but didn't deserve. Bashir. Jafar Bashir. I'll have a, um, water. Shaken, not stirred.
Ziad kept the sunglasses on.
"Well?" Shlomi's voice cut through Ziad's daydream. "What's your 'idea?'"
The South African G-Man sighed.
"They're in China. Xinjiang province, specifically. Uighur terrorists have them. A man by the name of Ali al-Jarrah delivered the warheads to the Uighurs. How they were taken from the base and transported to China is still unknown."
"Oh, you've got to be fucking joking!" Ziad shouted, in Arabic. "No goddamn way that's possible!"
Shlomi's head sunk into his palms.
"Oh, shit." he sighed.
The South Africans were clearly rather confused.
"Ali al-Jarrah was supposedly killed a few years ago by an Israeli airstrike in Gaza." Shlomi explained. "He was a pretty extreme terrorist wanted for the deaths of numerous Israeli soldiers and civilians, as well as a number of Syrian civilians who fell victim to a rocket attack he orchestrated. If he's alive- Israel is definitely interested. Especially if he's managed to get a hold of your nuclear warheads."
Ziad was leaning against the wall, head spinning.
"No... No... No fucking way..." he kept muttering to himself.
The G-Man flipped through some papers.
"Regardless, the Uighurs have joined with the remnants of the Afghani Taliban- recently forced out of the country by Russian-allied Tajik militia- as well as Osama bin Laden's Al Qaeda and a number of Islamic terrorist groups and hid away somewhere in mountains of Xinjiang province. They've formed a terrorist supergroup calling themselves, rather generically, 'Islamic Jihad,' not to be confused with the groups of the same name which were proxies of the pre-Secular Revolution Iran. Anyway, we believe Ali al-Jarrah and Osama bin Laden are leading the group and are plotting to detonate the stolen nuclear weapons across the Eastern Han-dominated part of the country- with cities like Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Xi'an to be amoung the major targets."
"Why bin Laden and al-Jarrah decided to give up their anti-American and anti-Israeli agenda for an anti-Chinese agenda is still unknown. It's possible the Uighurs they are working with are holding something over them, or there's a greater organization or conspiracy at play that we have no inkling of. Either way, the entire situation is absolutely terrifying. It is in South Africa's utmost interest to prevent the nukes from detonating."
The G-Man leaned forward.
"This is why we are sending a special strike team into China to recover the warheads. However, the Israeli government demanded that an Israeli assistance team accompany the strike team, as the nukes were co-developed by the Israelis. That is why you two gentlemen are here. You are to join the strike team on its mission."
"Oh, sweet Jesus." moaned Ziad. "Not again."
The G-Man gestured to somebody waiting outside the conference room.
An extremely military-looking man entered the room. Completely bald, muscular, and with piercing, mean eyes, he looked like the sort of man you'd send on an impossible mission. He also looked about as Afrikaner as it was possible to look.
"This is Colonel Koobus Venter. He will command the strike mission."
Koobus snapped to attention and saluted.
"Colonel Venter, these are the Israelis. Oshir Cohen and Shlomi Bar-Dayan."
The South African soldier shook hands with Ziad and Shlomi.
The G-Man stood up, and the other officials at the table joined him.
"That is all, gentlemen. I wish you success."
The officials left the conference room, leaving Ziad, Shlomi, and Colonel Venter.
Ziad sat down heavily in one of the vacated chairs, "Well, ain't this a fuckin' ball?"
Author's note:
Well, I'm finally back in the game. It's been a while.
I told you I'd make Ziad pay for the kindness of a living sister.