Monster

by Bernard L. DeLeo

  “You look wonderful.” McDaniels put the phone aside. He enfolded her in his arms. “Did Dino sneak into bed with you again?”

  “Of course. I see you have your boots on. Did you already take him out?”

  “He and I went for our morning constitutional around four.”

  “You could sleep in until five once in a while just for variety,” Reskova nuzzled his neck provocatively.

  “It takes a little time to get used to paradise, babe. I’ll be sleeping in until ten before you know it.”

  “I’ll bet. Who were you talking to?”

  “Abe called me. He’s insisted on taking me to Walter Reed. I joked with him about them not allowing Marines in there but he of course insisted they’ll allow him in.”

  “Those guys have sure been checking up on you. Like Tom said when we were waiting at Andrews for the flight to arrive, you seem to have made some friends.”

  “It’s pretty hard not to in the situation we were in. He’ll be picking me up around seven-thirty. We’ll go over to Bethesda first, get his leg looked at, and then see the guys in his unit. He’ll take me over to Walter Reed afterwards.”

  “I wish you’d let me take you.” Reskova continued her ministrations.

  “I’ll take you somewhere else.” McDaniels picked her up in his arms easily and carried her toward the bedroom.

  “You’ll need another sponge bath,” Reskova warned.

  “Yes, it is a vicious circle.”

  * * *

  Reskova swiped her ID card in the slot outside the office of her special task force and then rushed in, glancing for the hundredth time at her watch. Rutledge, Barrington and Rasheed were all standing in a line next to the door, their arms folded over their chests, with disapprovingly harsh looks on all their faces. Reskova blushed before walking toward her office shaking her head.

  “I swear to God I’ll resign if you three keep this up!”

  “Turn that record over, will you, Diane?” Rutledge laughed.

  “We have not ratted you out, Boss,” Rasheed added.

  “Everything’s already in the works,” Barrington spoke up. “We have two money leads in the local area. Jen and I are taking Kay with us as an interpreter in case they try to play the language barrier act. We already have a warrant but we want to try and turn the main guy. It will be a lot easier if we can get him to cooperate.”

  Reskova turned around before going into her office. “Is this potentially helpful guy the one from the C.A.I.R. office we got a hit on Wednesday?”

  “Yep,” Rutledge answered. The three agents walked over to her. “The guy running the office turned up on a communiqué to the Syrian Trading Company where the Mercados had a traveling terrorist employment agency going.”

  “That guy must feel pretty safe. Most of the local characters were flushed within days of the Mercado bust.”

  “He is the assistant director of the Council on American Islamic Relations in the area, Boss,” Rasheed interjected. “American. That is a joke. Too bad the Cold Mountain is otherwise occupied. We could have him wipe out these…”

  “That’s enough of that, Kay,” Reskova cut him off. “I see you are already being corrupted by these other two.”

  Rutledge put an arm around Rasheed’s shoulders. “I think it’s the other way around, Diane. Kay here has an even shorter sighted vision of investigation and justice than the Colonel did. Tom and I are trying to civilize him.”

  “I see how that’s working out for you. Make sure you act as an interpreter and not a Cold Mountain replacement.”

  “We’ve been working on a variation of the good cop, bad cop act,” Barrington explained. “It’s not as effective as the way the Colonel and Kay do interrogations but we might be able to play a little mind trip on this guy and get him to help us.”

  “I’ve seen Kay in action. What’s the other lead?”

  “A courier with the Russian embassy,” Rutledge answered hesitantly.

  “How serious?”

  “Five hits, including an alternate thread into Detroit,” Barrington replied.

  “Give me all you have on the courier,” Reskova directed. “I’ll bring Dreyer and Aginson in on that directly before we follow it off the cliff. You three be careful with that C.A.I.R guy. They’re suing everyone who even mentions the organization in connection to terrorism. We’ve nailed their people in the past but it has to be done in air tight fashion. Are you sure you’ve gone as far as you can with the background stuff?”

  “Boss, we have this snake. We had no trouble obtaining the warrant Tom told you about. Once his name came up we traced direct money ties to the Mercados by way of money laundering fronts since nearly when the Mercados set up shop. Also, this traitor has been dealing with the same contact in Detroit which has already been hit.”

  “Just the same, don’t adlib, Kay,” Reskova cautioned. “Do this just the way Tom and Jen outline for you. Any problems and I want you three out of there. Don’t overplay it. Are you armed?”

  “He has to be, Diane,” Rutledge replied. “Tom’s already checked him out.”

  “Kay’s better than both of us,” Barrington admitted. “He’s seen more combat than probably any active Homeland Security agent in the building.”

  “I will be discreet, Boss,” Rasheed promised. “I will have their backs.”

  Reskova chuckled appreciatively. “Okay, get me the stuff on the courier and then get going. I want a call when you arrive. Make sure you have a team with you ready to help serve the warrant. Take no chances.”

  “We’ll do it by the book, Boss. May I ask how my friend is doing?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell you three but he was wounded. He didn’t want a big deal made of it with all the more seriously wounded guys shipped in with him.”

  “Man, the guy seemed right as rain,” Barrington commented. “How bad is it?”

  “The bandage had to stay on until they saw him at Walter Reed today. Cold said they’re tracing a piece of shrapnel they couldn’t get at overseas to make sure it’s not life threatening.”

  “It sounds more serious than he’s saying,” Rutledge said. “At least he’ll be in good hands over at Walter Reed.”

  “You’re pretty quiet all of a sudden, Kay.”

  “I do not believe anything the Cold Mountain says about his physical condition. That is why he did not let us know he would be returning.”

  “Easy, Kay,” Reskova said soothingly. “You’re partially right, but believe me, he seemed in good shape.”

  “C’mon, Kay,” Rutledge said, leading Rasheed away. “Let’s get the courier info together. If Diane says he’s in good shape, no doctor would know better. Diane’s a bone expert.”

  Barrington caught Reskova just before she was able to reach Rutledge, who hurried the now chuckling Rasheed away.

  “Jen was just lightening the mood, Diane,” Barrington placated his more than irritated boss, who realized Rutledge had rung her bell once again.

  Reskova smiled grimly up at Barrington as he released her. “As soon as Cold gets clearance from the doctor, Jen better start sleeping with her camp shovel attached to her pajamas.”

  * * *

  “Oh, these folks look real friendly,” Rutledge whispered over to Barrington and Rasheed.

  Rutledge led the way into the large office complex. The four people in the front section of the office glanced up with a look of curiosity, which changed immediately to sullen observance. Three of the front office people were men, all dressed in suits. The one woman was covered around the head and face with veils, even as she worked. Curiosity returned to their faces when they saw Rasheed enter the office behind Barrington. The man nearest the front counter stood up and walked to the counter.

  “May I help you?” The man asked in heavily accented English.

  “Yes, we need to speak to Ansar Muhyee,” Rutledge said politely, showing the man her ID, and gesturing at Barrington and Rasheed, who also had their ID’s in hand. “I’m Special Agent
Rutledge. This is Special Agent Barrington and Rasheed, Homeland Security Task Force.”

  “What is this about?”

  “We need to speak to Mr. Muhyee. I’m afraid I cannot discuss the subject matter with anyone else.”

  “He is not here.” The man turned away.

  “We know he is here,” Rasheed said harshly at Rutledge’s prompting. “Please inform Muhyee we need to speak with him right away.”

  The man began to speak, looking even more belligerent than before. Rasheed moved past Rutledge, his face a mask of untapped fury, held in tight control. Leaning slightly on the counter, his hands in fists on the countertop, Rasheed’s penetrating stare stopped the receptionist in his tracks. The receptionist looked around at his co-workers uneasily before stammering out a reply.

  “Do… you have a warrant?”

  “If you force us to get a warrant we will come back here in a very bad mood.” Rasheed smiled with savage promise in his eyes.

  The man hesitated. He then turned to the woman at his right, gesturing with a single headshake. Standing up quickly, the woman hurried into the back of the office and knocked on the outside of an inner office door. She entered when a voice called out in Arabic. Five minutes later a man of Middle Eastern descent, the three FBI agents recognized immediately as Muhyee, strode purposely toward the front of the office. He was bald on top with a full beard. Although around six feet tall, Muhyee seemed shorter because of the fifty extra pounds he carried under a very expensive black, tailored three-piece suit. At the counter, Muhyee spoke in a measured questioning tone, unable to hide the arrogance beneath the cultured exterior.

  “Yes, you wish to speak with me?”

  “We need to ask you a few questions in relation to an active investigation,” Rutledge said as Rasheed stepped back.

  Muhyee looked annoyed when he concluded he no other choice. “I must protest your manner in regard to my employees.”

  “We lose our happy faces when we’re lied to in the first few minutes of an opening conversation,” Rutledge replied. “Let’s talk in your office.”

  “I am very busy. Perhaps we could discuss your questions another time.”

  “We’ll be talking today, Mr. Muhyee. It will be up to you how pleasantly the conversation is conducted but we will have a conversation. Now, why don’t you invite us into your private office and we’ll get started.”

  Barrington walked up next to Rutledge and leaned down to her right. “Let’s have justice send over a warrant and toss this place. I…”

  “Very well,” Muhyee acquiesced reluctantly. “Your superiors will hear of these strong arm tactics as will our lawyers.”

  “Do not threaten us!” Rasheed exclaimed angrily, again moving in front of Rutledge. Muhyee fled back from the counter and Rasheed’s enraged approach.

  “Easy,” Rutledge said, holding her hand out to Rasheed in a placating manner. She looked questioningly at Muhyee who turned toward his office.

  “Come along then.”

  Inside Muhyee’s office, Muhyee sat down behind an elaborate desk setup which surrounded the big man. The veiled woman who had trailed the four into the office retreated out the door closing it as she went. Muhyee gestured for the three agents to sit down on the chairs in front of his desk. Rutledge and Barrington sat down. Rasheed remained standing, slightly to the right of Rutledge, scowling down at Muhyee.

  “What is it you want?”

  “We would like to know what your connection is to these two people.” Rutledge took pictures of the Mercados out of a folder Barrington handed her. She spread them on the desk in front of Muhyee.

  Muhyee glanced at the photos, almost successfully hiding his recognition. Rutledge glanced back at Rasheed and nodded.

  “I see you know these people.” Rasheed walked up to the desk. “What is your connection to them?”

  “I do not know these people,” Muhyee protested, looking up at Rasheed angrily. “How…”

  “Do not lie to me!” Rasheed cut him off. “We know you communicated with the Mercados through the Syrian Trading Company they worked at. Do you think this is a game?”

  Muhyee stood up quickly from his desk. “This interview is over. Get out of my…”

  Rasheed was around the desk in an instant. The look of pure rage on his face surprised his two cohorts although they knew already what he was going to do. Muhyee backed up into the filing cabinets to his right, putting his hands up defensively as Rasheed came up into his face.

  “Sit down!” Rasheed ordered, taking the man’s arm and pulling him to his chair.

  Muhyee sat down heavily with some help from Rasheed who bent over him.

  “This interview, as you call it, ends when I say it ends,” Rasheed spat the words out and slammed his hand on the desk. “What do you know of these people?”

  “I… I read of their deaths in the newspaper. It may be I did some business with them. Surely, many people did business with the company they worked for. Why single me out?”

  “Your office has been communicating with a suspected terrorist cell in Detroit,” Rutledge put in. “The same terrorist cell the Mercados were in contact with. Would you like to make a deal and possibly save yourself from some bad times?”

  Muhyee looked stunned. He glanced up at Rasheed fearfully, his mind racing.

  “Wha…what kind of deal?”

  “You cooperate fully and lead us to every connection you have with the terrorists. If your leads pan out maybe we can put you into witness protection,” Barrington chimed in. “If you don’t cooperate, you’re going to Gitmo.”

  “But… but I am a citizen,” Muhyee protested. “I am not some enemy combatant. I…”

  “You are worse than simply an enemy, dog! You are a traitor to your country. In Iraq, Saddam would have put you in a wood chipper and ground your bones to wet red dust.”

  “What’ll it be?” Rutledge urged, leaning forward at the desk. “We only stalled off hitting this place in full force to give you a chance to help yourself, not to mention your family.”

  “They will kill me and all of my family,” Muhyee whispered, putting his head into his hands as he leaned on the desk.

  “Not if we take you today and your family with you,” Rutledge explained. “They will believe we have you held for interrogation. You will not be seen or spoken to by anyone after today. We will take you out in handcuffs after our team secures the building. You will not be seen cooperating.”

  “You should have thought of all this before you became a traitor,” Rasheed said in disgust. “Now speak, dog. Will you take this more than generous offer or not?”

  “I…I will do as you ask,” Muhyee answered reluctantly after a long moment with Rasheed still staring him in the face.

  Rutledge smiled and nodded at Barrington who called in their backup team. Rasheed straightened away from Muhyee as if he were contaminated, shaking his head in exasperation at Rutledge.

  “What’s wrong, Kay?”

  “This cretin lives the high life in the most powerful and benevolent country on earth and yet he betrays America as if he were a Palestinian street urchin learning how to buckle on a suicide belt.” Rasheed gave the startled Muhyee a quick slap in the back of the head. “I could understand the scum in our unfathomable Middle East. These so called Middle Eastern American traitors are a mystery to me.”

  Muhyee stood up suddenly, shouting in Arabic at Rasheed. “It is you who are the traitor to Islam. I…”

  Rasheed grabbed the larger man in an iron grip at his throat, causing Muhyee to gasp and try to twist unsuccessfully at Rasheed’s hand. Rutledge put a restraining hand on Barrington who had leaped up to hurry around the desk. She shook her head. Rasheed spat in Muhyee’s face.

  “Never speak of Islam in my presence. You insult Allah simply by speaking of it,” Rasheed said fiercely, still gripping the choking Muhyee. “Please do not cooperate. Please. I will have you then. Oh what times we will have.”

  Rasheed released Muhyee as they hea
rd the office outside being taken by their special unit. Muhyee collapsed heavily into his chair, rubbing his throat and still gasping for air. He looked across at Rutledge with terror replacing the fear on his face.

  “Wha…What does he mean?” Muhyee croaked painfully.

  “Kay here is our resident special interrogator,” Rutledge answered. “If we find out you are giving us bad info at any time, Kay will handle you from then on.”

  Rasheed smiled happily at Muhyee, who looked up at him in horror and dawning comprehension.

  Chapter 20

  Recuperation

  It was late afternoon when the three agents returned to their office. All of the materials seized in the raid were being catalogued and photographed. Muhyee had been transferred for the time being to a safe house with all of his family under twenty-four hour guard. The C.A.I.R. office employees had all been detained for questioning pursuant to the team’s investigation of what had been gathered in the raid. Barrington carried a box with C.A.I.R.’s already catalogued computer hard drives. Muhyee had given the team all the passwords to retrieve the system data.

  “That was very exciting,” Rasheed commented as the three walked toward their office.

  “The best part will be breaking down the info we snatched,” Barrington replied. “We’ll let Diane know how big a part you played, Kay.”

  “You were kick-ass in there.” Rutledge chuckled. She swiped her card to enter the office. “I think Muhyee needed a change of pants after your attitude adjustment.”

  “In Iraq we would have retrieved the information and then sent the traitor to hell,” Rasheed grumbled, following Rutledge and Barrington into the office.

  Barrington set the box down near Rutledge’s workstation. The three continued on to Reskova’s office. They could hear Reskova talking to someone so Rutledge knocked on her door. Reskova’s voice called out for them to enter. Inside, a young Marine they recognized from Anderson Air Base stood up courteously while the agents entered.

  “You all remember Gunnery Sergeant Dominguez, don’t you,” Reskova asked.