The Istanbul Conspiracy Read online

  The Istanbul Conspiracy

  A Novel

  Code Raven 7

  Lynda Filler

  DISCLAIMER

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  © December 2019 Lynda Filler

  CODE RAVEN

  Main Characters

  Luke Raven

  -Billionaire scientist, high-tech genius, history of working on US top secret projects, philanthropist, somewhat reclusive. He is a Patriot. He formed the Raven Group after his wife and seven-year-old daughter were murdered in the Bahamas. He will do whatever it takes to keep America safe.

  Samaar (code name Luci)

  -Ex-Mossad, once on loan to M16, assassin, in hiding from her ex-employers and a South American cartel after exposing their drugs/money/guns/CIA scam. She’s the sometime romantic interest of Luke Raven and sometime agent in the Raven Group. She currently resides in Paris with her four-year-old daughter Alice and a team of security provided by Raven to keep her safe.

  Alice

  -The eleven-year-old daughter of Samaar never knew her father an Arab Journalist presumed murdered in the Middle East before her birth. Alice currently lives with her mother in Paris, learning to speak Persian, already knows English, French and Spanish from her life in hiding with her mother in South America.

  RB

  -Genius techie, security expert, inside crucial man of the Raven Group, and close friend of Luke Raven. They met at Caltech. Luke taught, and RB was his protégé. Luke and RB have an unbreakable bond. RB was there for Luke when his wife and daughter were murdered. When Luke formed the Raven Group, RB was the first person he recruited.

  Zach

  -Retired Navy SEAL, was involved in the takedown of Osama Bin Laden. He was born in Israel, his parents were professors (undercover CIA) in Beirut, killed there when he was a child. Zach is now a full-time international operative for the Raven Group.

  Maggs

  -Ex-US Special Forces, Michelin trained chef, the only full-time woman in the Raven Group. Currently stationed in Paris with Samaar and Alice living the life of a retired operative, major domo of Samaar’s household

  David

  -Family to Zach, part of his Navy SEAL team, recently retired from the Navy, pilots Raven’s prototypes, joins the Raven Group and is very active in Silk Road. He’s currently part of the Paris household and is teaching Alice how to fly an airplane.

  Himanish

  - An ex-military Pilot for India. Joined RAW-Research and Analysis, the Indian secret service department. He covertly helped Samaar/Luci disappear by hacking into a South American Cartel’s Swiss bank account. He took 250 million US dollars and gave it to Luci and Alice to support their new life on the run. Himanish currently works for the UN Human Rights Commission in Geneva Switzerland, in a covert role he has created for himself. He’s also the owner of MAGE © a Cryptocurrency operation in Kuala Lumpur.

  Rachel

  -Ex-military. First appears in Silk Road. Possible love interest of Zach. Worked in Spec Forces. Damaged emotionally and physically by a horrific incident in the Middle East, currently doing volunteer work with Yazidi women near the border of Syria.

  The Turk (Yunus)

  -Known internationally as DJ Turk, a playboy until Sude, his girlfriend takes him off the dating market. He’s a Muslim man in his 20’s, ex-military, lives a double life working with Himanish and the UNHRC and DJ’s in major cities around the world. His focus is counterterrorism and cryptocurrency. He lives in Istanbul, Turkey.

  ‘What is Cryptocurrency?

  The semi-anonymous nature of cryptocurrency transactions makes them well-suited for a host of illegal activities, such as money laundering and tax evasion.

  However, cryptocurrency advocates often highly value their anonymity, citing benefits of privacy like protection for whistleblowers or activists living under repressive governments. Some cryptocurrencies are more private than others.

  A cryptocurrency is a digital or virtual currency that is secured by cryptography, which makes it nearly impossible to counterfeit or double-spend. Many cryptocurrencies are decentralized networks based on blockchain technology—a distributed ledger enforced by a disparate network of computers. A defining feature of cryptocurrencies is that they are generally not issued by any central authority, rendering them theoretically immune to government interference or manipulation.

  In modern cryptocurrency systems, a user's “wallet" or account address, has a public key, while the private key is known only to the owner and is used to sign transactions. Fund transfers are completed with minimal processing fees, allowing users to avoid the steep fees charged by banks and financial institutions for wire transfers.

  Investopedia.com

  What is Crypto Mining?

  Cryptocurrency mining, or cryptomining, is a process in which transactions for various forms of cryptocurrency are verified and added to the blockchain digital ledger. To be competitive with other cryptominers, though, a cryptocurrency miner needs a computer with specialized hardware.

  Webomedia.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31.

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49.

  50

  51

  52

  53

  54

  55

  56

  57

  58

  59

  60

  61

  62

  63

  64

  65

  66

  67

  68

  69

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Istanbul, Turkey

  A breathtaking mega-yacht shimmered on the ocean in the late afternoon sunlight. Soft colored romantic lights prepared to sparkle against a sea of deep turquoise, creating a fairy-tale backdrop for the social event of the year. Historic Constantinople stone embankments and the Ottoman Empire mosques outlined the horizon creating a magical ambiance that spoke of an ancient walled city rich in culture and unwavering faith.

  Below decks, the putrid smell of dead fish mixed with the perfume of exotic flowers, and delightful Turkish cooking fought for dominance. The anxious Turkish Captain checked his Casio and called instructions to his men.

  “Bring them here quickly. We have less than three hours to have everything in perfect order.” The freshly shaven leader motioned to the focused young men in white shirts and cummerbunds.

  “Be careful! And don’t get yourselves dirty!” Three laborers under thirty hauled several very heavy cartons of Dom Perignon. Two others worked at the bow
of the yacht, preparing candle holders, stringing more tea lights, and making sure everything was exactly where it should be for the evening’s festivities.

  “Move that box under the eaves. The other, over here.”

  The luxurious superyacht swayed adjusting to the wake caused by a gigantic barge piled high with containers carrying cheap goods from Shanghai. At first glance, one would assume this elegant yacht was another billionaire’s toy; but this particular billionaire was a highly popular politician, his wealth vast and of dubious origins. He was, however, generous with his bounty and often shared his yacht with his discreet friends for private functions. Tonight, the luxurious Pearl would host the upscale wedding of a notable young Istanbul couple, a DJ named the Turk and Sude, the daughter of the Minister of National Defense for Turkey. The owner of the yacht was, unfortunately, unable to attend this evening’s celebration. At the last minute, an emergency business challenge required his immediate attention in Malaysia.

  Security was tight but limited as per the wishes of the bride. A renowned fashion photographer from Paris would shoot the event. Photos taken by cell phones were forbidden. It was rumored the couple had sold their photos to People Magazine, who would, in turn, donate the money to UNHRC. The navy stayed outside a four-mile perimeter and would enforce a safe zone for the romantic evening.

  It is said that all the preparations were last minute due to the fashionable bride’s insistence that her night be celebrated that one time during the year when the chilly blue waters of the Bosphorus Strait turn a magnificent shade of Ottoman turquoise.

  The boss and his crew paid sparse attention to light or color. They had an essential service to provide and were confident that by night’s end, this event would be broadcast around the world.

  They went about their work with laser focus.

  Istanbul, Turkey

  1

  “Do you think the President will attend, Yunus?” A twenty-five-year-old stunning Turkish beauty, long ebony hair worn straight to her waist, gazed up at her man.

  “Sude, my love. Don’t worry. You know he adores the ladies, and we have lots of model friends invited plus some of the high-profile Euro beauties you feature in your fashion blog.”

  “I know, I’m just nervous. I want everything to be perfect.” Dark hazel eyes smiled at the love of her life. Yunus put his arms around his fiancée and held on with a force that surprised both of them.

  “Together for all time, my love.”

  “Yunus, you are such a romantic.”

  “Yes, Sude. Promise me you will always be by my side.”

  “Of course. We’re a team, you and me against the world!”

  “Don’t worry about tonight, my love. Everything will be up to your standards. You can cater to events like this in your sleep. But please, check my DJ list. I don’t want to forget any of our songs.”

  He gazed at the woman who’d danced into his life, rocked his world, and stole his heart.

  “Do you remember the first night we met three years ago?” Yunus leaned in for a kiss.

  “Yuni, my makeup, stop!” Sude put her arms around her handsome lover. His biceps always aroused her, but there was no time to play. His toned physique was not the first thing she noticed about him, but it was still a substantial part of her attraction. It was the love she saw in his eyes every time he looked at her. How could any woman resist that? Tonight, she would marry her best friend and lover.

  “How could I forget? You were playing In the Air Tonight and kept staring at me. And then you followed me into the ladies’ room and locked the door!”

  “And? Go on. Tell me what I did to you. Tell me again how irresistible I am!” He pulled her closer. His heat was evident and persistent.

  “Those photos were all over social media the next day!” Yunus grabbed the butt of his giggling fiancée and kissed her anyway.

  “Stop it, Yunus!”

  “I thought you’d just be another fling, Yuni. You had a reputation. And I was a good Muslim girl! A hot DJ womanizer. How could I take you seriously?” Sude was laughing, moving quickly out of the way of her man, who spent his free time finding exciting ways to seduce her.

  “Who were you dating at the time?”

  “No one. Well, I had a bit of thing for an Iranian guy, but you know what they way.”

  “No, Sude. What do they say?”

  “A moment in the washroom with the Turk and all other men cease to exist!” She began tickling him, and he begged her for mercy. Now he chased her in earnest.

  “Stop. We don’t have time for this!”

  “Honey, our guests won’t mind waiting. Just one kiss, a real kiss.”

  “Stop it! You’re ruining my makeup. We will have plenty of time for real kisses on our honeymoon in Bali.”

  A knock interrupted the moment allowing Sude to escape.

  “Miss Sude, the photographers are ready.”

  A stunning dark-haired beauty faced her husband-to-be her white lace gown barely covered her in all the right places.

  The Turk, the international DJ sensation from Istanbul, adjusted his black Dolce & Gabbana tux. He preferred understated luxury except for tonight; he added a flashy solid gold Piaget, a gift from the parents of his soon-to-be wife.

  “Come, my love. Did I tell you how amazing you look in your wedding dress, even if our Muslim parents are going to shake their heads at your naked back and see-through cleavage!”

  “Baby, they’re used to our untraditional ways by now.”

  “Okay, my love. Let’s get this party started.”

  They closed the door behind them.

  No one that knew Yunus would believe this hardened ex-commando from the Turkish military would be overwhelmed with nerves and emotion on his wedding night. But from the first moment he saw Sude, he knew she was the one. The smile, those dancing eyes, and when she turned around to chat with her friends, and he caught a good look at her butt, well, the rest is history.

  At the door, he let go of her hand reluctantly. “Go ahead, darling, I forgot something. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Yunus turned back to his suite at Les Ottoman. He moved silently but quickly to a built-in safe behind the soaker tub in the bathroom. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last that he’d chosen this suite and this hotel. It came with exclusive perks designed just for him, a man who led a double life. He removed the compact Sig Sauer, checked the ammunition, and placed it in the special compartment the bespoke atelier had added to his cummerbund.

  The security for tonight’s affair was provided as a gift by the President of Turkey. Sude insisted that weapons be carefully hidden, and private security should be discreet. Yunus knew she was right. Tonight, was all about sharing their joy and their love, the beginning of the rest of their lives.

  2

  The next day, the tabloids splashed wedding photos of the internationally famous couple DJ Turk and his fashionista fiancée, Sude. The first photos showed the arrival of Turkey’s political elite. The gowns, elegant, sophisticated, the latest from the runways of Paris Fashion Week, not yet for sale to the public—a fashion show the likes of which Istanbul hadn’t seen all year. The political elite joined the youthful entrepreneurs and the who’s who of the young hip Istanbul club scene. It was an eclectic, romantic venue, a billionaire’s yacht, a romantic sunset cruise on the Bosphorus, a fairy-tale wedding.

  The most prominent images were not of the laughing, smiling social elite but of a luxury yacht surrounded by rescue boats, Special Forces, and littered with dead bodies. Twenty-five corpses were lined up along a jetty wall shielded by the Turkish military from the view of prying eyes. Still, a resourceful photographer got his shots and sold the images to an international wire service. Cell phone videos showed up on YouTube but were immediately blocked and taken down by the Turkish government. Unfortunately, this censorship existed for Turkey alone. The rest of the world was privy to one of the worst terrorist events in Turkey’s history.

  The Turk
was inconsolable. He reviewed the confiscated videos of survivors shivering, crying, some hysterical. A few guests pulled from the cold Bosphorus Strait, were wrapped in grey military issue blankets, lucky to be alive. And he studied the videos taken of the crowds, again and again, looking for familiar faces. If it were an attack of terrorism, the perpetrators would have had someone record their work. But so far, he couldn’t determine who or how a video of the event might have been taken. It was only a matter of time before someone would appear online and claim responsibility for the horror.

  Yunus blamed himself. How could he allow the President to handle security on his behalf? What was the Turk thinking? He should have chosen his own carefully vetted team. But by the time he found out the President had canceled his attendance at the last minute, it was too late to make any further changes. And after all, it was his wedding. He’d experienced no threats. Everyone on the guestlist had been vetted except for staff and security. And the crew and party staff belonged to a wealthy politician. And the security team came from the President. Sude wanted her night to be intimate, and she had insisted the few allowed weapons should be kept out of sight, preferably behind the bar. Not everyone honored her request, including the Turk. Or the deaths would have been higher.

  It should have been a magical evening out on the Strait.

  And for an hour, it was perfect.

  The Turk got a text from his team stating the investigators found the original wait staff dead in an abandoned warehouse along the waterfront. They used CCTV archives to observe the freshly shaven jihadists transfer their hidden weapons and explosives onto the yacht. More than likely, everything they needed had been inside the Dom Perignon crates. By the time the general security got to their personal arms behind the bar, several of the guests and some agents were already dead. Yunus and the presidential secret service lent to the politicos for the evening had concealed weapons. But the size of the superyacht, and the confusion, plus the identification of the jihadists took extra precious minutes. In the ensuing chaos, all the terrorists were eventually killed. But not before, many guests and diplomats were slaughtered.