Monster

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Monster Page 9

by Bernard L. DeLeo


  “Hello, my good friend.”

  “Oh… my… God,” McDaniels whispered, clasping the man’s extended hand with both his as the driver reached back towards him. “I never thought to see you again, little brother.”

  “Your government has deemed me a valuable commodity and I am to join you once again.”

  Reskova watched the reunion with interest as McDaniels released the driver’s hand. He gestured toward the driver. “Diane, let me introduce you to Kumar Rasheed. Kay, this is Special Agent Diane Reskova.”

  “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Boss,” Rasheed said with only slightly accented English, shaking her hand.

  “Boss?” Reskova smiled.

  “Aginson told me he had a surprise member to add to our group,” McDaniels replied, pointing at Rasheed. “Kay here is it. Where are Ansa and Suraya?”

  “Still in Washington,” Rasheed answered. “Mr. Aginson explained we will be stationed there eventually. They are very excited about seeing you again, Cold.”

  McDaniels did a double take as Rasheed chuckled.

  “You are very famous now,” Rasheed added. “I read in the paper you have been up to your old tricks again. I have heard Director Aginson refer to you by this Cold Mountain name.”

  “I’m having trouble with notoriety.”

  Reskova snorted derisively.

  “Do you like my car?” Rasheed asked with a wave of his hand. “It is very beautiful, is it not?”

  “Very nice. Did they load in our bags yet?”

  “Yes, they are in my very big trunk. Do you wish to be driven to your hotel now?”

  “Definitely. I don’t know about Diane here but I need a shower. Are you staying at the hotel too, Kay?”

  “I reserved only two rooms, my friend, one for the Boss, and one for us. I am very educated in the ways of expense accounts.”

  “I’m sure it will be a step up from the last place we shared.”

  “Indeed it is.” Rasheed started the car. “If the Boss does not mind, we can get settled in first and then share a meal together.”

  “That sounds good to me,” Reskova said. “Perhaps you could educate your friend Cold here on how to address me as the Boss too while you catch up on old times.”

  Rasheed laughed. “I would be most happy enlightening my friend in addressing you properly, Boss, but Cold does not always listen well to my advice.”

  “Boss, it is,” McDaniels agreed with a shrug.

  “Wow, you are very good at this persuasion thing, Kumar.”

  “Please call me Kay,” Rasheed said over his shoulder. “Yes, I am a wonder. Is that not so, Cold?”

  “You’re a wonder all right. This gig has a lot of long absences according to the Boss. Are you sure you want in?”

  “If it means working again with you, my friend, I do not mind. Director Aginson said you and I will be the tactical part of the team, yes?”

  “If all goes well. Sometimes, as on the plane we were on, we get thrown into the meat-grinder to see how it all comes out in the end, right Boss?”

  “I’m afraid the Colonel is right about that, Kay. I doubt you will get into much trouble, but someone upstairs has changed the parameters of what my team used to do. I think Cold here just wants you to know the dangers.”

  “Believe me, Boss,” Rasheed said, looking back over his shoulder when he stopped for a traffic light, “Cold and I…”

  Rasheed shut up immediately as McDaniels gave him a slight negative headshake which Reskova picked up on.

  “I will be fine, Boss, do not worry,” Rasheed said finally with a smile.

  “Okay for that.” Reskova looked at McDaniels suspiciously. “Any ideas on how to proceed with these interrogations without torture?”

  “I’m thinking about it. I’ll be sharper after I get a shower and some food. Did you get citizenship, Kay?”

  “Yes, my family is All-American now.”

  “I thought you wanted to own your own store or something.”

  “Ansa is very angry with me about not doing so. She and Suraya work our little enterprise. I explained to Ansa it would be good not to put all our chickens in one basket.”

  “Eggs in one basket, Kay. So, you do have a store?”

  “Yes, we have a small antique and collectibles shop. It is very nice but I was bored with it in short order. It even has an attached house so I never had to leave and we could open it very conveniently whenever we wanted.”

  “And yet here you are.”

  Rasheed shrugged. “It was not as exciting as I had hoped. When I read about your little adventure in the woods, I made contact with the man who had helped get us settled. Mr. Aginson called me the next day. He told me you would not be going to prison and that I could work with you if I wished. As you say, here I am.”

  “I hope you will have a calming influence on your friend, Kay,” Reskova said.

  “Thank you, Boss. I did calm him down when we worked together in Iraq.”

  “I read his record, Kay.”

  “Oh,” Rasheed muttered comically.

  Chapter 9

  Breaking Bread Together

  “How did you meet the Colonel, Kay?” Reskova asked as the waiter walked away from the table after taking their order. The trio had agreed to have dinner together at their hotel restaurant to avoid going out.

  “I had volunteered for the Iraqi special unit brigade. Cold was our liaison with the coalition forces. He also acted as our tactical advisor. He spoke our language very well. While other units took heavy casualties, ours were light. Thanks to my friend, we never rushed into situations with unknown variables. My young friend, Abdi and I…”

  “That’s enough, Kay,” McDaniels broke in. “No use boring the Boss here with too many details, I…”

  “Never mind, Cold,” Reskova cut him off. “I want to hear it. Is Abdi the one who was killed in Fallujah?”

  “Yes, how did… oh… I forgot, you read my friend Cold’s record. He told us then we were playing too many games but we did not have a choice. As I was saying, Abdi and I would infiltrate, with Cold here close by. Once we found out the location of these murderers, we would pull out and then strike them in force. In Fallujah, Abdi missed our meeting. The three of us were very close.”

  When Rasheed did not go on, Reskova prompted him. “So what happened?”

  Rasheed shrugged. “We stopped playing games.”

  “But…” Reskova began.

  “Listen, I have an idea about the interrogation,” McDaniels interrupted. “Did you bring your uniform, Kay?”

  Rasheed’s eyes lit up as he nodded his head yes. “I did indeed. They told me we would be interrogating prisoners. I thought to bring it as a joke. Surely we cannot use our old routine here in this country.”

  “What old routine?” Reskova asked, leaning forward. “You don’t mean torture, do you?”

  “Oh no, Boss.” Rasheed sighed, exasperation creeping into his facial features. “We would not want to hurt anyone, especially rabid dogs like these Syrians who wish to blow up airplanes full of innocent people.”

  “What Kay means,” McDaniels said, chuckling in appreciation of Rasheed’s sarcasm, “is we used an interrogation technique on the prisoners we captured from Al Queda who were not from Iraq.”

  “The fools snuck into our land and began blowing up my people while calling for recruits to fight Jihad,” Rasheed added angrily. “They wished to take over for that murderous swine, Saddam. I would dress in the uniform of one of Saddam’s secret police. Cold and I would then walk into the interrogation room. I would remain by the door, my arms folded arrogantly over my chest, staring hatred at our guest. I did not have to pretend.”

  “I would introduce Kay as a former member of Saddam’s secret police. You should have seen those mooks’ faces,” McDaniels continued. “They knew all the stories of the torture chambers and meat grinders Hussein’s sons used to feed people into alive with the help of the secret police. I would explain Kay had seen
the light and agreed to work for us.”

  “Sounds okay so far,” Reskova said as the waiter came with the coffee they had ordered. After he left, Reskova went on. “Knowing you, Cold, the story goes downhill from here.”

  “Not so, Boss,” Rasheed corrected, grimacing at the taste of American coffee. “Cold would…”

  “Didn’t I tell you not to call me Cold, my brother,” McDaniels interrupted again.

  “Yes, my friend, you did mention that as we unpacked,” Rasheed confirmed thoughtfully, before looking over at Reskova again. “Anyway, Cold would tell the prisoner how he would be questioned. First, Cold would explain the prisoner would get every opportunity to convince us of his wish to be helpful. If the prisoner was not helpful, Cold explained the prisoner would be given to me to do as I pleased. Our technique worked unusually well.”

  “What about the ones who resisted your humanitarian efforts?” Reskova asked, showing increasing interest.

  “I would drag them out, cursing and kicking them, to a room where we had housed many of Saddam’s torture machines. They would begin screaming as soon as I began stripping them. Cold would come in then. He would offer them one last chance while I argued for him to let me have them for a few hours.”

  “We never had to hook anyone up,” McDaniels added.

  “I was very convincing,” Rasheed said proudly.

  “We don’t have a torture room to show them in case they need added persuasion,” Reskova pointed out.

  McDaniels began to respond but stayed silent when he spotted the waiter returning with their meal. After they were served, McDaniels began again.

  “I have an idea for just such a situation. All we need is a pig’s sty and a bunch of big, ornery pigs.”

  “And you wanted me to stop calling you Cold.” Rasheed pretended disgust, shaking his head. “Very good, my friend, I think your idea will work well, especially if we have a nice table with big sharp utensils laid out for use in front of this sty.”

  “We will also need an area with stakes and attached handcuffs, hammered into the earth where a man’s feet and arms would extend.”

  “That is barbaric. If a man is cut in the sty and the pigs smell blood, they…”

  “…would tear the man apart,” Rasheed finished. “Yes, very barbaric. Even more so for one who believes these animals are unclean.”

  “Not nearly as barbaric as flying airliners into buildings causing the innocent deaths of thousands,” McDaniels retorted.

  “Or using children as suicide bombers to kill other children,” Rasheed added.

  “You wouldn’t go through with it though, if the prisoner didn’t give in, would you?”

  Reskova frowned as the two men exchanged glances. Rasheed smiled broadly at her.

  “Only as a last resort, Boss,” Rasheed answered.

  “We might need to make an example,” McDaniels added sagely.

  “You can’t…”

  McDaniels and Rasheed began laughing together at their joke seeing Reskova’s reaction.

  “That’s not funny. You two could end up arrested for even joking like that.”

  “We are very good at the playacting, Boss,” Rasheed replied. “It is doubtful they know much anyway. Would we even be able to do what you have thought of, Cold?”

  “I’ll call Aginson. If he says no, I doubt we’ll achieve much in these interrogations. They’ll have to take them somewhere like Gitmo and see if they can make them slip up over time. We would have to find a pig farm nearby too. We’ll need to get the owner’s permission for our ruse.”

  “You might as well advertise it in the LA Times,” Reskova said. “Anything expanding past the three of us will be on the news wire within minutes of it happening.”

  “We’ll have to take the chance if we want to find out anything. Why not leave it on Aginson’s back. It’s his idea we do the interrogations.”

  Reskova took a bite of her cooling steak she had finished cutting up. As her companions also began eating their meal, she considered the downside of all McDaniels had suggested. Reskova looked over at her two companions and concluded they would go through with anything they planned. Although they would deny plans to torture anyone, Reskova doubted they would stop if the prisoner did not talk.

  “If Aginson goes along with your idea, I will not condone any torture. I want to make that clear.”

  “You will be with us, Boss,” Rasheed reminded her. “You may stop the interrogation whenever you wish, right Cold?”

  McDaniels paused for a moment before answering. “Remember what’s at stake though, Diane. We could be talking about anything from information leading to a Terrorist cell, to the whereabouts of a dirty nuke device.”

  “You can dance with that anyway you like, Cold, but I cannot sanction torture.”

  “Even if thousands of lives are involved?” McDaniels persisted.

  “I would not know that beforehand, only afterwards.”

  “And that makes a difference, Boss?” Rasheed asked with some confusion.

  Reskova shrugged in exasperation. “What do you want me to say? I can’t do my job like that.”

  “One other thing - our Syrian buddy will object to even having you in the same room with him.”

  “That is so, Boss. It will be an insult to him when we bring you into the room,” Rasheed added.

  “So?”

  “So, nothing,” McDaniels replied. “We just wanted you to know the Syrian will be upset about your presence. Don’t take anything he says personally.”

  “Why don’t you call Aginson so we won’t be talking about hypothetical futures,” Reskova suggested.

  “On it.” He took a final bite of his steak and walked away from the table towards the exit. Reskova and Rasheed ate in silence for a few minutes before Reskova glanced in the direction McDaniels had left the table. When she did not see him returning, she focused her attention on Rasheed.

  “How long have you known the Colonel?”

  “Nearly two years. Where we were and with what we were doing it was a lifetime.”

  “Did he suddenly spring up out of thin air?”

  “Not exactly, but I know why you asked that in such a way. He has surprised you at an inopportune moment?”

  “More than once,” Reskova admitted. “The big sneaky prick.”

  Rasheed laughed. “Yes, it is very disconcerting.”

  “Where did he run into you?”

  “He was scouting my city of Naseria ahead of the armored columns at the beginning of the war. We were all terrified because the local arm of Saddam’s secret police were holding many of our children as hostages against our continued cooperation because so many of us simply wanted to flee. They had taken my little girl while I was trying to find a way out of the city.”

  “As I searched for an unguarded way out of the city, alternately using my bicycle, and running around on foot, the Colonel came out of nowhere. In seconds, I was tied up and gagged. Except for his size, he could have passed for a native of the region.”

  “When he had gestured me to silence he asked if I would be willing to talk. I showed my willingness and he removed the gag. The Colonel told me he needed information to save lives. I led him back to my house. By then, my wife Ansa had been beaten and my daughter Suraya taken away. I could not speak. I held Ansa in my arms trying to comfort her. The Colonel asked me what had happened. I explained the secret police were taking hostages.”

  “He asked me if I could show him where they were holding the hostages. I told him yes and made my wife as comfortable as possible while he stored his pack in my house. Although I was very unnerved the Colonel made me concentrate on what I was to do. I led him carefully through the city. There were at least twelve guards at the police station where they held the hostages. The Colonel then motioned for me to wait across the street out of sight. He walked right up to the two guards holding AK47 rifles at the entrance.”

  “While holding his hands above his head, he talked to them for a mome
nt. He told them he had seen an American column. The two guards glanced at each other and then they were dead. He motioned me over, gave me a rifle, and we dragged the bodies out of sight.”

  “All without drawing attention?” Reskova interrupted in disbelief.

  “Remember, the streets were empty. People were hiding in their homes.”

  “Please, go on.”

  “I was to guard the entrance. The Colonel vowed he would come out with the children, explaining it was imperative I kept our escape path clear. Many times, after he left me, I did almost abandon my station to try and help him. Shots and screams rang out inside the station constantly over the time he was gone, driving me insane with worry. I nearly jumped out of my skin when he reached around me to grab hold of my rifle, preventing me from shooting him by mistake.”

  “It was then I noticed the silence and the sobs of children. They were all there, hushed to silence by this giant who had rescued them. The Colonel helped me herd the frightened children to my home. There were nearly fifty of them, including my Suraya. The children were hidden from then on until the Americans came. I was the Colonel’s man after that. When they forced him to return to America he brought us with him. The others in our group now hold positions within the Coalition government and military. My family and I have been in protective custody ever since coming to America.”

  “You probably could have been high placed in the government yourself. Did you ever think of staying?”

  “Many times. I had made too many enemies. There had been attempts to blow up my family on at least three occasions by the Al Queda dupes still terrorizing my country.”

  “Will you be going back when things finally stabilize?”

  Rasheed smiled as he shook his head no. “I am an American who was born in another land but did not get to become one formally until the Colonel brought us back with him. For well over a year I met many of your young soldiers who came to our country to fight against terrorism. I was honored to help them against this terrorist virus trying to wipe out all who stand against these cowards - jackals who hide behind women and children claiming to represent Islam.”

  “It must have been quite a surprise seeing our moronic media downplaying all we were doing over there.”

 

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