Early the next
morning Allison McDonald asks her secretary to call Mossad headquarters in Tel
Aviv to speak with Ariel Wattenberg.
When Ariel is on the line,
he says, “I received a message you called previously. I’m sorry I was unable to return your call.”
“No problem, actually
I’m glad you didn’t return my call while you were probably away from the
office. Do you have some time? I need to discuss a very interesting
incident?”
“Right now I’m about
to head into a meeting, let me call you back in say about an hour.”
“Thank you, I’ll wait
for your call.”
* * *
At nine in the
morning Hamid is standing outside of the bank that his funds are deposited
in. He patiently waits for someone to
open the doors. The front door is
unlocked and the five individuals waiting outside enter the bank. Hamid walks over to the information desk and
asks to meet with a bank officer. The
receptionist tells him someone will be with him momentarily. She asks if he would like coffee. He declines and takes a seat.
Hamid’s wait is only
five minutes. A young man approaches him
and invites him into his office. Hamid
is impressed the employees of the bank are all dressed in colorful outfits. This is totally different from banks in Iran.
The young man directs
Hamid to a seat in front of his desk.
“What may I do for you, sir?”
Hamid
hands him the account number. The young
man brings it up on his monitor. Hamid
can tell the officer is impressed with the balance by the look on his
face. “May I see some kind of
identification, please?” Hamid passes
over his passport.
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