their clothes and guns in the back of the car. Lynda packed a weeks worth of her things and the kids’ clothes.
In an hour the six people were on their way to a new “safe” house.
When they were safely in the new house, Marcus asked, “Where did you get the money, Lynda?”
She frowned. “You don’t worry about that; you just keep our children safe.”
Marcus grabbed Lynda by the shoulders. “That’s not all, is it? How much do you have?”
She shook loose and turned to him. “Don’t ask. It is just there when we need it.”
Marcus frowned. “Is it CIA money? Is it dirty money?”
Lynda smiled and her shoulders sagged. “Neither, honey. It is mine. A friend gave it to me. He is dead now.”
Marcus stood back and sulked. His buddies studied his reaction.
Neal climbed up on the fence and then onto the roof of the house.
Josh set up four interlocking motion detectors in the front and back yards that would catch any movement.
Marcus went to bed. He would relieve Neal in six hours.
Josh sat in the kitchen with Lynda. He said, “What were you trying to prove back there?”
Lynda smiled, and looked questioning. “What do you mean?”
“Your little game with Onwar. It could get us all killed,” he stated.
Lynda took a drink of coffee. “The Sheik could send an army after me, and eventually they would get us. If I have to stop him by playing up to him, I will if I have to. I will go after him and kill him, even if it means dying myself.”
Josh said, “Lynda, use your contacts to find out when he leaves the country, then we will track him down and eliminate him.”
Lynda said, “We don’t have those kinds of resources in Iran. I would have to sucker Onwar some way into telling us, and I don’t trust Onwar.”
It was ten days later that Lynda’s phone rang. It read, “private call.” She answered, “Yes?”
Onwar said, “I am sorry, the Sheik would not listen to me. He has sent others after you. Again, I am sorry.”
Lynda said, “Ask him to meet me somewhere. I will convince him in person.”
Onwar said, “I will ask him. I will call you back tomorrow, same time.” Onwar hung up.
The next day, Lynda was brushing her hair when the phone rang. She answered, “Onwar, do you have good news for me?”
“The Sheik will meet you in three days at the Tehran International Airport, at the Movenpick Hotel. Get a room and he will find you.”
Lynda asked, “Is he going to kill me or talk to me?”
Onwar said, “He will talk to you. He will decide what to do with you after he talks to you. Oh yeah, come alone.”
Two days later, Marcus, Josh, Neal and Wayne were all at the Tehran airport, setting up security for Lynda. They had flown in on a local airlines. With their beards, and Arab dress, they really fit in with the locals. Only Wayne stood out as an oddball. They were staying at the Movenpick Hotel near the airport. They had booked the rooms such that they had the rooms on either side of Lynda’s room, and the two across the hall from hers. They had a motion-activated camera set up that would video her entire room. Marcus had warned Lynda to only dress and undress in the bathroom.
The next day, at noon, Lynda arrived and went to her room. She found the camera and waved at the men.
She was sitting on the bed reading a travel book on Tehran, when there was a knock at the door. She went to the door and opened it. A very big Arab man in an American suit said, “Follow me!”
Lynda backed up from the door, shook her head and said, “No, the Sheik is to come to my room.”
The big man stopped, frowned, looked down his nose at Lynda and shook his head no. “Madam, follow me. It is not a request!”
Subconsciously, Lynda looked at the camera for help. She looked back at the man. “No, sir, tell the Sheik that he will be safe, but he must come to my room.” She slowly shut the door in the man’s face.
She was again on the bed looking at the pictures in the travel guide when there was another knock on the door. Three big men, including the original man, were surrounding a small, slumped-over older man. He had brilliant white hair.
She opened the door and said, “Hello, I am Lynda Handley. You may come in, but your three goons must wait in the hallway.”
The old man nodded at the three men, and walked into Lynda’s room. He looked all around, and then sat in the only chair in the room.
Lynda stood before him. “Sir, Sheik Mogadusa, I am the person responsible for your son’s death. He attacked me. We fought and I shot him. I am terribly sorry and ask for your forgiveness.”
The old man wiped his eyes with a silk handkerchief. “He was my only son. Why did he attack you?”
Lynda hesitated for a second, made sure that she was lined up with the camera, then said, “Your son was trafficking young girls. It was my job to stop him and save the little girls.”
The old man jumped out of his chair and leaped at Lynda. He went for her throat. She fought him off and ran to the window. She was now out of view of the camera. She knew that the men could not see her. She had made a mistake.
The old man screamed, “You lie! My son would never deal in slavery.”
Lynda held her hands up in a defensive posture. “I would not lie to you, sir. That is the truth.”
The old man stood there, his fingers in his white hair. It looked like he might pull his hair out. He said, “I told him not to traffic young women. It is beneath us.”
“Sir, these were not young women; they were little girls, eight to ten years old. I had to stop him. It was my job.”
Tears ran down the old man’s cheeks. He finally said, “My two granddaughters are eight and ten. They cannot find out what their father was doing.”
Lynda stood back. “They will never find out from me!”
The old man went to the door. He opened it and said, “Kill her.”
Lynda thought that she had misunderstood him; she was late getting to her purse. Two of the first five bullets fired at her hit her in the midsection. The bullets spun her around and she completely missed the first man, who had stepped into the room and shot at her. Lynda fell behind the bed, saving her life.
The gun battle that ensued was fierce and deadly.
Marcus was the first member of his team into the hallway; it took six bullets to take the third big Arab down. He shot Marcus three times in the chest, hitting Marcus’s vest in a small circle. The big Arab was not so lucky; one of Marcus’s bullets hit him squarely in the heart. Marcus stumbled; Josh pushed him down and ran to the door. He grabbed at the gun the second man held. A bullet shattered Josh’s arm. He was flung up against the wall. Neal stepped by and shot the second Arab repeatedly.
Wayne was trying to get by Neal and Josh. He tripped over the third Arab, who was now on the floor. Wayne fell on top of the Arab, saving his life. The first Arab had turned his machine pistol back and shot his own man in the back, and cut Neal nearly in half. Wayne pointed his gun at the first Arab and shot him in the torso three times. Then he was struggling in all the blood to get up.
He was quickly in the room. Everyone was down except the Sheik, who had a long curved knife out of his jacket and was on his way to behead Lynda. Wayne shot the old man twice in the back.
Wayne was shot twice in the back by the second Arab. For the second time in less than ten seconds, Wayne’s life was saved, this time by his vest. He spun around and shot the second Arab in the face three times, blowing the back of his head off.
Marcus was up and into the room. At first he couldn’t find Lynda; she was hidden behind the bed. Seeing her bleeding from the two gunshots scared Marcus terribly. He almost lost his cool; he ran to the bathroom, got two towels, and pressed them into the wounds. Wayne called the front desk and ordered them to call ambulances, then Wayne took towels to Josh and wrapped his arm up securely. Neal was lyin
g on the floor, eyes open. He was already dead.
Lynda and Josh were taken to the Royal Tehran Hospital. Both of them went into surgery at the same time. Josh’s arm was repaired with a stainless steel rod. Lynda’s surgery was more complicated. One of the bullets had ruptured her right ovary; the other had lodged in the back side of her stomach. Two surgeons were working on Lynda. The gynecologist did his best to repair her female organ, but she would never produce an egg from that side again. The surgeon working on her stomach didn’t fare much better. He was able to remove the bullet and pull the torn flaps in the front wall of the stomach together and sew them together. He was new to the hospital, but did the very best that he could do.
Neal’s body was in the trunk of their car. Seals did not leave their dead behind. But what could they do with the body?
Josh was out of the hospital the next day, and Marcus had him hiding in a different hotel quickly. Wayne stayed as near to Lynda as he could without raising a red flag.
Marcus was back at the hospital just after dark, and Lynda was just being sent to the recovery room. Marcus went in to see Lynda and as soon as she opened her eyes, she asked softly, “Is it over?”
Marcus was smart. He had no idea if it was over or not, so he said, “Yes, honey. They are all dead. The police and the army questioned us, but they let us go.” This was a lie; the police had let them go, but the Iranian Army was looking for the three survivors. Marcus knew that they didn’t have much time before the Army found them; he had to get Lynda out of there as
CIA - The Slave Traders Page 47
