Finding Ishmael Tschkenow

The limousine eventually turned into a nondescript facility, adorned with the sigils and flags of the IDF as soldiers stood guard outside and within the complex. The guards wore professional dress uniforms, carrying their rifles with strict discipline and stoicism.

When the limousine turned in, the guard snapped to attention and saluted the passing vehicle and its passengers after they saw Ismail’s face.

“Here we are, gentlemen,” Said Ismail as they exited the vehicle.

“Where are we?” Asked Aviel.

“A strategic compound for Israeli Intelligence. Officially, it’s a bunking facility for IDF platoons but in actuality, it’s an intelligence centre” Said Ismail, “Don’t worry, the people here answer to me; no chance of them ratting us out to Harrel.”

“So what are we doing here, then?” Asked Aviel, “Don’t we need to find Ishmael Tschkenow?”

“That, and one other thing we need to do as well,” Said Ismail, “There’s other data you need to see as well, since it concerns Harrell and the Makid Party.”

“How so?” Asked Aviel.

“You’ll see,” Said Ronit.

It was inside a large, theatre-like room that Aviel and her acquaintances entered, packed to the brim with computers, CPUs and other sophisticated IT devices and staffed with a small army of programmers and technicians.

Here, tetrabytes of data were processed daily on these military-grade computers, whether on army statistics, country demographics, **** material on corrupt officials and so on. As of now, security footage of the Knesset Headquarters was being displayed, and the faces of many Parliament officials were shown.

“Here, we’ve begun studying the footage of Harrell and his Makid Party, all their meetings and proceedings,” Said Ismail, “Look here at this video; it shows Harrell in discussion with a handful of his party members.”

Aviel’s eyes were focused on the footage as it played before her, her sharp ears taking care to register every word recorded.

“Right, just so we’re clear, we have to eliminate every last single one of Reuben’s associates and contacts before we can truly solidify absolute power and control over Israel, am I clear?”

The one who spoke was Harrell Lyons, a middle-aged man with a strong, athletic build, brown hair in a crew cut and piercing blue eyes. Dressed impeccably in a navy-blue suit and polished chestnut wingtips, he was a strikingly handsome and charismatic figure.

Aviel only felt her blood boiling at the sight of the man, her fists clenching tightly. Only her military training ensured she kept her raging emotions under control.

“But Mr. Lyons, Sir,” Said another man, “We cannot possibly be killing every last single official opposed to us simply because they don’t share our agenda; I know we need to solidify our power, especially at such a time when our neighbours might prey on our weakness, but we must not ignore the Human element! Let me get the Defense Minister on the line, at least.”

“If you must,” Said Harrell, gesturing to him.

Yet, even as the man went away from the table, Harrell stood up from his seat and took out a pistol, firing a single shot through his forehead. The man fell to the ground without a single grunt.

Gasps of shock rang out among the other attendees, and Harrell calmly and slowly walked around the table, holstering his pistol.

“Let me make one thing clear to you all,” Said Harrell, an eerie certainty in his words, “I will not allow anyone, even myself, to jeopardise this entire scheme we’ve set in motion. We’ve been divided for far too long between too many parties, and we’ve allowed ourselves to be subservient to a foreign power that, whilst guaranteeing our independence, has also ensured continued instability in the Middle East. I intend to change that, and since you’ve all joined me on this, you all agree, do you not?”

Silent nods were exchanged between the attendees, one of them saying, “Y-Yes, Mr. Lyons. We completely agree with you.”

“Good,” Said Harrell, “Now, we need to discuss a great matter of import: The whereabouts of Ishmael Tschkenow.”

The video was paused there, Ronit saying, “Harrell, as you can see, is the sort of man who will not tolerate any kind of disobedience among his own men. If you’ve watched his speeches, he can easily adopt the mask of a charismatic, if albeit stern, politician.”

“I can see,” Said Aviel, “And I’m guessing he did the same to those who helped him orchestrate the Knesset Explosion?”

“That is correct,” Said Ismail, “A Yosefu Daiches was the main technician in charge of building the specially durable room, and planted the bombs with a team of no fewer than twelve. They’ve done a damn good job, I’ll give them that.”

“How’d you know their identities, then?” Asked Aviel.

Ismail merely sighed, saying, “We only managed to find Yosefu’s body; he was chopped into pieces and discarded somewhere outside the city limits. We were fortunate to find some surviving… samples of his rotting corpse, and it was just a matter of matching his DNA with records. Needless to say, it wasn’t a pretty sight.”

Aviel merely nodded at this, then asked, “The others?”

“All locations unknown, I’m afraid,” Said Ismail, “We’ve tried all possible locations and measures without drawing attention, but we couldn’t find any trace of them, only speculated last known locations.”

“Seems it’s all the more imperative we find this Tschkenow, then,” Said Aviel.

“That’s not all, Aviel,” Said Ronit, just as the video resumed playing.

“That bastard dared chicken out on our plans just as we finalised the plot to kill those incompetent politicians,” Said Harrell, eyes narrowed, “He was the one who helped me get into politics, you know? He was the one who introduced me to various contacts that now constitute my power base – which includes you all, and if he decides to squeal on us, all we’ve worked for would be for naught. Therefore, I want him found as soon as possible, understand me?”

“If I may speak, Sir,” Said a woman, “He’s literally dropped off the grid, and we can’t seem to trace his IP address at all, nor can we trace any of his phone calls. It may take us some time to properly pin down his location, though we believe he may still be somewhere in Tel Aviv.”

“Do what you must, but make sure the job is done,” Said Harrell, “The last thing I need is someone slipping up when he’s within our grasp.”

“At least we won’t have to get far to find him,” Said Aviel.

“But I’m afraid we cannot give anything more concrete; we’ll need a bit of time for this,” Said Ismail.

“No, thanks for this regardless,” Said Aviel, shaking Ismail’s hand, “I’ll contact you again if I need something.”