The airfield was unremarkable. One of hundreds of private airstrips in the Bahamas and along the coast of South and Central America. Officially, it belonged to an antiquities dealer that specialized in Aztec and Mayan artifacts. Unofficially, it was a stop in a major cartel arms pipeline.
And then there was what he was there for.
Ben stepped off of the private plane that had delivered him. As soon as he was a safe distance away, the plane's door pulled itself closed and the jet taxied away and took off once more. The pilot had no idea what or who he had just delivered.
In exactly fifteen minutes, a different plane would land and he would board it to be taken to his next destination. That pilot would also have no knowledge as to who or what he was picking up. It was a costly, complicated, process that he found mildly aggravating. However, he knew that every precaution had to be made to ensure total secrecy for these meetings.
His cane rapped along the concrete as he approached his contact, he didn't need it, but his lack of a disability would provide a delightful surprise for any would-be attackers. So would the compact 45. Caliber pistol tucked into a holster in the small of his back.
He liked to have the odds stacked in his favor whenever possible.
Between his wrinkled face, his easygoing smile, and the spectacles perched on the end of his nose, he seemed by all outward appearances to be a kindly grandfather or some other retiree. This caused most to underestimate him, which was the way he preferred it.
His looks certainly didn't betray his past.
Ben-Tzion Adler was born in 1945 on a cargo ship in the middle of the Mediterranean. His parents were immigrating to Israel at the time. He grew up in Bat Yam, it was there that he'd meet his future wife, and through her, his future best friend. He and Dagan Meir had met when they were eight and fourteen years later they would serve in the same paratrooper platoon during the Six-Day War. A few years later, he served as Meir's second in command in the Sayaret Rimon, it was also around this time when his wife gave birth to their first and only daughter. They had what Ben had believed to be their last grand adventure together when they crossed the Suez in 1973. After the Yom Kippur War, Ben retired from the army, he'd gone back home to be with his wife and daughter. He'd entered into rabbinical school with the intention of getting his semicha, or rabbinic ordination.
That all changed one night in 1980 when he ventured out into the night with his father's pistol in his hand, vengeance in his heart, and fire in his eyes.
The same fire burned in his eyes now, he looked and acted the part of the kindly old man, but he kept himself in shape and maintained his training. His days in the field were long behind him, but he made sure that he was still almost always the most dangerous person in the room.
"How've you been Leo, I heard you go by Edward now, that you're in the paper business." He'd known his American counterpart for decades, and in that time the man gone by over two dozen different aliases.
"Fine, thank you for the thing in Bahrain." Edward offered him a cigarette, he declined, he hadn't smoked outside of an op since '82.
"Just repaying the favor for the job in Thailand." This was the point of most of these meetings, favor trading and information exchange. It was an open link between their two countries, and since the two of them refused to deal with anyone but each other, it helped give each of them some political leverage.
"Will your people be able to cover the thing in Dubai next month?" The Company usually preferred to work via proxy, usually via the proxy of a proxy. But tactical support was still required on occasion.
"Which one, the executive or the shipment?"
"Shipment."
"We can manage that."
"So are we going to discuss the elephant in the room?" Edward dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his shoe.
The time for small talk was over.
"What elephant, are you referring to the fact that you put my most valued asset back in the game without consulting me?" Ben never showed anger, it was pointless, and it put you at a disadvantage in discussions. But damn if he wasn't close to it now.
"We didn't do anything, she took on Verctti herself." In the intelligence business, a conversation with friends could feel like a poker game at gunpoint, neither party could show all of the cards that they had, even if they wanted to.
"Don't bullshit me Ed, Bellic's your asset. Hell, it was one of my teams that grabbed Brevic for you. My finance people double checked, you were the one who coordinated all of the bounties on Vercetti's head. You knew that if you dangled a job like that in front of her, she wouldn't be able to resist." He kept his voice steady and even. He was breaking the rules and laying his cards on the table, showing what he knew. Time to see if Ed would do the same.
"We needed a new asset in Los Santos, you know how things are, it's turned into the Wild West out there. We shut down every terrorist pipeline on the east coast, either Niko burned them to the ground or we served them to the schmucks in the organized crime division at the FIB on a silver platter. Vercetti was the only one left that wasn't on our payroll. With him gone, the east coast is airtight." Ed pulled out another cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag. Ben wasn't exactly happy with what he was being told, but it was nice to know that all of the years they'd been friends meant something, even if it was just a bit of reciprocated openness.
"Problem is, now that we've got control over all the game in the east, every criminal worth their salt is running to San Andreas like it's fucking 1849. All the new pipelines are running through Asia and South America and converging in Los Santos. We needed people there." If she hadn't chosen to go there, Ben was sure that Ed would have arranged the circumstances to send her there.
Ben shook his head, "stop trying to sell me with intel I already have Ed. You and I both know that you already have people on the ground."
"Yes, but we needed the best, Aliza is the best. She's the finest operative to come out of Mossad in the last twenty years, probably the best female operative in its history. The closest thing I've got is Bellic, and he's got no reason to hold any loyalty to us. Besides, you know better than anyone that she was miserable being out of the game, she's like us, she was born for this life. She would've gotten back in sooner or later." Ed looked at his watch, Ben didn't have to, he already knew that they only had about five minutes left
Ben shook his head, he knew what Ed was saying to be true, but he certainly didn't like it.
Finally, he let out a long sigh, signaling his concession. "Alright Ed, I've already got a few operatives stationed there, but you better have a decent team lined up for her if you're going to be using her to do your dirty work."
"I do, a couple of guys sheep-dipped from the teams, a kid we pulled from the NSA, and a freelancer. We'll leave her to get set up for another month, then we'll have our mutual acquaintance make the approach."
Ben nodded and tuned to go, but Edward called after him one last time.
"Hey Ben, you ever think about how fucked up what we do is?"
Ben looked back and chuckled, "Don't question fairy tales, old Jewish proverb, we're in the business of fairy tales, Ed, don't question it."
With that he headed for his plane, off to another appointment to discuss earth shattering developments that 99.9 percent of the world would never know about.
Fairy tales indeed, he mused.
Any guesses on who Edward is, he's got a history in GTA.
R&R people, next chapter we're back with Aliza.