Counterfire

29

To get started, the SEALs and Captain Sartan drove past the big food-importing firm.

“Looks like any other business,” Lam said. “Offices, big loading dock for a dozen trucks at once, and their name plastered on everything you can see.”

“How can we penetrate a big outfit like that when we’re looking for one individual?” Jaybird asked.

“Might not be that hard if we had time,” Murdock said. “But we’d need cooperation from the owner. The man we want has to be one of the managers, or at least somebody who puts in orders to foreign markets.”

“So looks like we work up the food chain here,” Jaybird said. “We know the delivery outfit, and we know the one getting the goods. How many kinds of foreign foods would a fishing boat order anyway?”

“When do the fishing boats get orders brought to them?” Murdock asked.

Captain Sartan shrugged. “Most of them get supplied each morning; then they don’t worry about refrigeration. Some boats on the other end of the scale get goods for a week at a time.”

“So could be an 0300 delivery, three A.M.?” Murdock asked.

“That’s when mine used to come. I seldom had anything delivered from International Food and Novelties.”

“So it looks like that’s our next hot appointment,” Lam said. “Only, how do we stake out the boat and not look out of place?”

“I’ve seen a few street people, bums and winos, sleeping it off on the sidewalks,” Jaybird said. “You have many of them around town?”

“Too many. They get to be a real problem.”

“Good, we can be three winos deep in our cups and sleeping on the sidewalk.”

The SEALs agreed.

“You’ll be wanting to carry firearms?” Sartan asked.

“I’m almost never without one,” Jaybird said.

“We’ll need some protection and enforcement ability,” Murdock said.

“Better have your colonel talk to the police and get yourselves deputized, or at least get gun permits.”

“Should be no problem,” Murdock said. “Do any of the fishing boats get in early?”

“Three or four of them. They have contracts to supply hotels and restaurants with the fresh fish catch of the day. If it isn’t caught that day, they can’t advertise it that way, and the Health Administrator watches them like a hungry lion in a herd of African antelope.”

“I’d like to walk past the boats, maybe past where Zekharyah docks, again, just to get the feel of the place,” Murdock said.

They did. The fishing dock here was on a mole, a triangular-shaped wharf that extended out into the bay at a forty-five-degree angle, then took a turn to the left parallel with the shore, and then another forty-five-degree angle coming back toward the shore pier. It gave access to both sides of the wide dock for moorage and discharge and onboarding cargo via small flatbed electric trucks that plied the pier continuously. Zekharyah’s boat, the Gimbra II, had its dockage midway in the third leg. Only one boat on that leg was at its berth unloading the early morning catch.

Sartan knew the captain and the crew. He told them some friends of his wife were in town and he was giving them the ten-shekel tour. They continued to the end of the mole, and watched the boats coming and going in the harbor.

“About the tides,” Sartan said. “They will help boost the floaters highest on the sand, but it’s the waves, the breakers, that really push the items through the surf and into shore.”

“Then the bombs would have to be dropped near the surf line, or maybe inside the first wave,” Jaybird said.

“Yes, otherwise a north-south current along the coast could pick up a bunch of them and send them a hundred miles down the coast.”

“So the men dropping off the packages of bombs know what they are doing.”

“They’ve had enough practice to get it down to perfection,” Murdock said. “We need to chop off the tail of this snake and work back up to its head.”

“How are we going to stake out this pier?” Captain Sartan asked.

Lam grinned. “Hey, that’s the easy part. We can put ten men around his boat and he’ll never see a one.”

“On the other boats,” Sartan said. “But won’t the other captains warn him? This is a tight little community, and even if Zekharyah is a bastard, the other captains will help protect him.”

“They would, but they won’t see us either,” Murdock said. “We’ll be underwater waiting for him to make his move. We’ll already have taken the screw off his boat so he can’t run for it.”

“You can do that?”

“We’re part fish,” Jaybird said. “Mostly barracuda.”

They all laughed at that, and headed back along the concrete wharf toward the shore.

Back at the dock, Murdock asked where the delivery trucks usually stopped.

“For big shipments they use forklifts and boxes or pallet boards for the goods. Smaller packages they work with the little power tractors. Just a motor and a lift and a man pulls it along.”

“Where will the truck from International Food and Novelties stop at?” Lam asked.

“They always use a big bobtail truck, because they make a lot of deliveries. It would be back here where the cross street hits the one in front of the wharf.”

“What are you thinking, Jaybird?” Murdock asked.

“We take the truck up here, grab the driver, insist that he shows us which delivery is heading for Zekharyah’s boat, then we open it and check to be sure it’s the fireworks. We close it up. One of us about the same size as the driver puts on his uniform and hat if he has one, and makes the delivery. As soon as Zekharyah signs for the delivery, we take him down.”

“He’s going to be armed,” Sartan said. “Both of his men will have Uzis or some other submachine guns. A lot of fishermen could get hurt if everyone starts blasting away.”

Murdock scowled. “True,” he said. “So we don’t take his screw off. We use a high-speed boat and take him as soon as he separates from the other fishing boats.”

“I like that a lot better,” the boat captain said.

“By then the fishing captains will be talking about the shoot-out. They’ll identify Zekharyah’s boat, and the supplier is going to know seconds later,” Lam said.

“Means we have to take them both down at once,” Jaybird said. “One squad on the boat, one to take down the International Food place.”

“Be a lot better if we knew who we were hunting,” Murdock said. “Big business like that might have ten guys who buy goods and sign orders from foreign countries. Which one is our man?”

“I know the general manager there,” Sartan said. “He knows I’m out of business, but I could call him and tell him I was getting my feet under me and ask him about some supplies I used to get from him.”

“Take him out to lunch; then we could drop by your table, one of us at least,” Murdock said. “We can find out the specific man who orders goods from China. If there are two or three who work the China trade, we’ll take down all of them and find the right one.”

“Trade with China must be a haphazard thing,” Lam said. “Would they order in advance and keep fast-moving goods in stock until needed? Say, toys and knickknacks and nonperishable items?”

“Seems reasonable,” Captain Sartan said. “I’ll get a lunch date with him for today. We could take out that end of things even before the boat sails tomorrow.”

“Let’s do it,” Murdock said. He handed Sartan the cell phone the colonel had given him to use if he needed it. The Israeli thought a moment, took a card out of his wallet, and dialed a number on it.

Two hours later, Murdock sat with Captain Sartan at a hotel coffee shop not far from International Food and Novelties. The general manager of the firm, Kiva Nissan, shook Murdock’s hand and they sat down.

“I always come here because they buy food from us,” Nissan said. “They pride themselves on having at least one dish from over eighty different countries around the world.”

Murdock had been introduced as a family friend in Tel Aviv for a vacation.

“How do you like our little community here?” Nissan asked.

“I’ve hardly had time for the ten-shekel tour,” Murdock said.

Nissan ordered specialty sandwiches for them, and before the food came, Sartan turned serious.

“Kiva, I’m working with the Army and the police on a delicate matter. We need to know who in your firm handles orders to China.”

“I don’t understand. Food and novelties. We’re not talking about hand grenades and machine guns. Two men do the work with the Chinese, but I want to know a lot more about why you need to know their names before I can help you.”

Murdock spoke up. “Mr. Nissan, we are not accusing you or your firm of any wrongdoing. However, we think one of your employees may be doing a terrible thing to the people of Israel, may be causing hundreds to be injured, maimed, and killed.”

“How in the world? Food and novelties?”

“Mr. Nissan, you are aware of the savage and deadly floating booby traps that have been washing up on our beaches for the past eleven months.”

“Yes, terrible….” He stopped. “You mean you think…” He shook his head. “Both of these men have been with me for years. Both have families here, both are respected.”

“Is either one an Arab?” Sartan asked.

Nissan slumped in his chair. “Yes, I have tried to be even-handed about employing Arabs. They have a right to work as well as Israelis. I have twenty, maybe more Arabs working for me. To think that one of those two…” He shook his head again. “I simply can’t believe it could be true.”

“There is one way we can know for sure,” Murdock said.

“How? Anything. Now I must know.”

“I can tell you this, but it must go no farther. We know that one of your trucks makes deliveries almost daily to boats at the dock. The driver takes boxes to the Gimbra II, a fishing boat owned by Gabi Zekharyah. We are almost one-hundred-percent certain that he gets deliveries from your store, and later dumps the deadly booby trap bombs in the surf line as he heads out to fish.”

The sandwiches came, and the men only stared at them.

“This is true?” Nissan asked his countryman.

“We have everything but his admission.”

“How can you prove that one of my men…”

“When ordering from China, do you order in quantity, then break down the shipments for individual orders?”

“Yes. Mostly that way. Sometimes we do special orders; they come in with a customer’s name on them and we hold them until needed. Sometimes connections are missed and we try to keep a supply on hand….” He stopped again. “In our warehouse. We can check the warehouse and see if any special orders there are waiting for delivery to Zekharyah’s ship.”

“Mr. Nissan,” Murdock said, “these are dangerous men. One man investigating this problem has been killed and dumped in the bay. We don’t want anyone in your firm harmed. Can we check the warehouse without drawing suspicion?”

“Yes. From time to time I inspect the warehouse, the salesmen, even the delivery trucks. I don’t think we’ll arouse any suspicion. Just one of you should come with me. Mr. Murdock, it should be you. Someone might recognize Captain Sartan.”

“We expect a delivery to Zekharyah’s boat tomorrow early A.M. We need to let that shipment go through. Would it be possible to check the warehouse this afternoon?”

“Yes, and I’ll have the name of the salesman who ordered the goods for his boat. Then we will know for sure.”

“Should I meet you at your office this afternoon?” Murdock asked.

“No. I want you to come with me now, right after we eat these sandwiches. I think I can swallow now. I’ll be giving you a tour of the whole operation, so going to the warehouse will look natural. So eat and enjoy; then we’ll go dig out this traitor I’ve been paying for the past fifteen years.”