by mike Evans
“Can I tell you one thing I’ve learned, Father, please?”
His father flung his chair, kicking it as he started his approach across the room to his son. He screamed, “You let your last words be what you choose them to be. What difference does it make to me?”
Imad sat back calmly in his chair. He raised a silenced pistol and aimed it directly at his father’s chest. He said, “In America, they say do not a bring a knife to a gunfight.”
Hassan stopped in his approach. He tilted his head to the side. “I don’t understand what that means.”
Imad shook his head in astonishment. How could one man be so powerful and so ignorant at the exact same time? “Have Allah explain it to you.”
He pulled the trigger twice and rose to his feet. His father’s eyes bugged out and he stumbled backwards, dropping his knife. He tried to reach for his pistol, but Imad was on his feet and stripped him of it. He helped his father back up into a wheeled chair as smoke rose from his chest. Hassan was shaking in the chair, filled with fear of death and rage for his son’s unbelievable betrayal. Imad opened the office door and looked to see if any of the men had been lingering in the hallway outside awaiting further orders. He knew that Allah was shining down on him today because he saw no one.
When he turned around to wheel his father into the hallway, he saw that blood was coming from the sides of his cheeks when he attempted to speak. It poured out, soaking his front and he said, “Why Imad? Why would you betray me like this? You are not strong enough to do this on your own. You will fail. You cannot be a leader; you are too young and too weak. You will fail, you coward!”
Imad smiled and patted his father’s shoulder as his eyes began to glaze. “Father, if I am the weak one then why are you the one who is sitting in the chair with bullet wounds?”
As Hassan opened his mouth one final time to speak, the blood gurgled as he slipped into the great unknown. Imad pushed him across the hallway and to the elevator. He wheeled his father inside and punched the button to go to the bottom floor. He waited, watching the floors, nervously knowing the allegiance that most of the men had was to his father and not wanting to run into any of them. He knew that it was going to take a miracle to pull this off. The elevator doors dinged and opened. Imad stuck his head out and looked both ways down the hall.
Again, he felt that Allah was shining on him when he saw only Fahid who was, by far, one of his most trusted and faithful men. He screamed for the man down the long hall. “Fahid are you alone? Is there anyone else in the hall with you?”
Fahid gave a thumbs up and smiled proudly while waving and shaking his head. “Hello Imad, what are you doing? Do you need help, my friend?”
Imad motioned with his hand to urgently come to him. “Fahid, come here now. I do need help. I need your help very much and now please.”
The man listened and obeyed. He ran towards the elevator and about fell in shock when he saw the leader. “Oh my god, Imad! What the hell happened to your father? Did you do this, Imad?”
“He didn’t understand evolution. He didn’t understand the big picture… that we are capable of so much more… the things that we could do.”
“I can keep your secret, Imad. I will be your left hand man. What is it that you think that we can do?” He pounded his chest in comradely.
Imad did not correct him; he knew that it was pointless. The two of them wheeled his dad's corpse out the back door where his father kept a car that was always gassed up and ready to flee if need be.
Imad looked out the back door that led to the alleyway. When he was confident that the coast was clear, he motioned for Fahid to come out the door. The two men kept his father steady as they quickly wheeled the chair outside. Imad yelled, “We must get him out of here before anyone sees him! Fahid, I need you to drive him and his car to a garage or parking lot—somewhere that he will be left alone. He needs to be out of sight for a while.”
Fahid opened the passenger door and the two men hoisted Hassan up, sliding him into the passenger seat. Imad held his father in place while Fahid secured the seat belt to keep him upright. Imad pulled out a set of keys and tossed them to Fahid. “Fahid, I need to go back inside. You come back as soon as you secure him somewhere. Hurry please; we don’t have much time. We don’t want people wondering where you’ve gone to.”
Fahid smiled proudly, accepting the keys. “I am going to protect you from evil, Imad. I will not let harm find you. You are our savior; you will protect us and rid us of all the infidels that plague the world.”
Imad nodded. “You will be great. Now go now and stop for nothing, speak to no one.”
Fahid ran around the side of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. He turned the car over and Fahid sped down the alleyway. As the car began to turn the corner, Imad pulled a black box from his pocket and pushed a red button. His father’s car exploded, sending it ten feet into the air. Black smoke rolled up in waves. The force from the explosion charred both men to a point where they wouldn’t be recognizable. The buildings running parallel had scorch marks going up them as well.
When Imad was content that it had definitely taken care of them, he turned and sprinted to the building, taking the stairs as quickly as his smoker’s lungs would allow. When he knew he was out of sight, he hit his radio, screaming, “Someone tell me what that was! Are we being attacked? What is happening outside?”
The radio chatter came back with too many voices trying to talk over each other. Imad screamed, “Shut up, all of you! Everyone stop talking! I can’t understand you all screaming at once! Now one of you answer! What is going on outside?”
Ali, one of his father’s guards came back over the radio, sounding very nervous to be delivering the bad news. “This is Ali here. I am outside in the alleyway and, Imad, I am sorry to say it looks as if those pieces of shits got him.”
Imad played his part the best that he could. “They got who, Ali? Who? You are making no fucking sense.”
“Imad, it is your father’s car and there are two men inside. It is impossible to know who they are, but one of them is wearing your father’s necklace.”
Imad screamed at the top of his lungs. “They will pay! We will take care of them all! Clean the computers now! Bring the hard drives and burn this building to the ground! We will continue in my father’s footsteps.”
Ali asked over the walkie-talkie, “What is our next goal? What do we do from here?”
Imad yelled, “We stop talking on walkie-talkies, you fucking moron. Are you trying to get a bomb dropped on our heads?”
The men were quiet. They knew that the words he was saying were true. It would not be the first time the military had done such an act. Ali quickly and quietly said, “Everyone do your job and meet at the backup site.”
Imad said, “We will meet as soon as you complete your jobs. I have wonderful news to share with all of you.”
The radio stayed quiet this time and Imad made his way back to the office where he had spilled his father’s blood. He did his part of the emergency evacuation drill and sprayed the room with a can of gasoline that was kept for such a specific chain of events. He tossed a match on the table, lighting the papers and gasoline ablaze. He watched the men running through the halls, taking care of their specific duties. He felt confident that, even if it had been the Americans who blew up the car and were trying to take them down, they would still be safe
Imad ran down the steps and to a car that he kept for himself if he needed to leave in a hurry—a lesson he had learned and found valuable. He was the first one to the backup site and had the generators fired up and electricity started by the time that the rest of the men arrived. They had, unfortunately, done it enough times that they were now pros at getting the computer equipment set up. Within a few hours, they had the backup site ready to go and back online. He called the men in, organizing them into a small room. When they were gathered and seated, Ali raised his hand before Imad was able to begin his speech. Imad pointed to the man, noddi
ng. “What? How can you have questions? I’ve only just brought you in here for, god sakes.”
“Imad, from the bottom of my heart I… I mean from all of ours, we wish to tell you how sorry we are that this happened.”
Imad nodded his head, walking around the room. He patted Ali on the shoulder. “Thank you, Ali, but this would have never happened had we started my father’s plan a year ago.”
“What plan is that, Imad? He had not mentioned anything that was new to any of us, at least that I know of.”
“He had a stroke of genius in his final talk with me this afternoon.” Imad pulled out a brown folder and passed out the contents to the men. Each man scrolled through the sheets, seeing different pictures of a man; in some of the pictures, he was alone and in others, with his family.
The men were clueless and looked at him, confused. Ali cleared his throat and asked, “Imad, who the fuck is this man? He looks like a scientist. Is he going to begin building our new bombs? How is blowing shit up going to be anything different than the plans which your father usually presents to us?”
The rest of the men laughed lightly, knowing it was true. Imad smiled too; he knew fear would be one of the things that would make his men respect him. He was confident that another would be because of his new ideas. Imad lifted his pistol and aimed it dead center at Ali’s head. Ali saw this and stopped smiling immediately as his jaw dropped and began to quiver. He held both hands out in front of him. “Imad, don’t; I beg of you, please. I was only joking! I did not mean any disrespect from it. I swear to you. I swear!”
Imad fired the pistol once, sending the bullet through one of the man’s palms and into and out the back of his skull. Blood and brains sprayed the wall behind him as the shell casing spun on the cheap table’s top. While the gore slowly slid down the wall, Ali’s hands dropped to his sides and his lifeless, limp body slumped to the left, slipping out of his chair and onto the ground.
The other men in the group, who apparently didn’t believe he was going to fire the pistol, had jumped a foot back from Ali. Imad did not lower the gun; he pointed it at the other men. “My father was a great man, and we will honor him as such. Does anyone have anything else to say about him, or are you ready to get to work?”
The men sat back down, trying their best—but failing miserably—to ignore the man who was bleeding on the floor near their feet. “This is Dr. Abul; he is one of the leading men in his field. He is going to make Allah’s Hand remembered until the end of time.”
A man raised a shaking hand. He was terrified that Imad was going to give him a repeat performance of what his fallen brother had just received minutes before. Imad did not want to lose his momentum, but could not ignore the man and the horrid face that he was making. “What do you want, Mohammed? You look like you are going to shit yourself. Did you shit yourself already?”
Mohammed sat up straight in his seat, shaking his head. “I just wanted to know what we need to kidnap a doctor for?”
“He is going to take us to new levels. He is a master of what he does. We aren’t going to be able to do this without him.”
Mohammed interrupted, “I’m sorry, Imad, but I do not understand.”
“Well, if you would just shut up, you might learn something.”
“Oh my… a thousand apologies, sir.”
“Keep them. Just shut up! I do not want any more interruptions. If given the proper resources and time, he will supply us with a strand of disease so deadly that it will cripple America. They will not be able to stop us. Anyone who lives will be taken out after we release our super virus.”
“The others in the picture, what would you like us to do with them, sir? Do you want to take unnecessary hostages?”
Imad answered, “I want you to enter the home and restrain the good doctor and his family. I will enter not very far behind you.”
*****
Dr. Akbar Abul’s Family Residence, two days later
Dr. Abul was only half-paying attention to his driving. He had disease on the mind, as usual, and spoke into a voice recorder, knowing that if he waited, he would to forget his ideas. The future scared him gravely. If only people were aware of what could become of society if even the weakest strand of a deadly disease is introduced into the population.
He shook his thoughts free when he saw his driveway and hit his remote to open the large, metal double gate. He looked around, making sure there were no little ones in the driveway riding their tricycles, and pulled his Mercedes into the wide driveway, steering clear of an overturned tricycle. He grabbed his briefcase, knowing he would be working late into the evening. He hit his car alarm, in case one of the local looters made it over the fence somehow, and headed inside.
His children rushed towards him, smiling, and screaming, thrilled that their father was home. He opened his arms wide as the kids came rushing around the corner, and wrapped his arms around them in a massive group hug. The three kids pushed him over and the four of them rolled on ground laughing.
His wife, Abrisham, leaned against the doorway, shaking her head. “Do I have three children or do I have four? You children go back and finish your studies for the night and let your father in the door.”
She walked over and picked up his briefcase and suit coat, then put them in their proper places. Akbar pushed up from the ground, feeling the little pains in his knees and back that did not exist before the two had wedded and had children. Abrisham gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. “How was your day today, Akbar?”
Akbar knew that she was just being nice and really didn’t want a full explanation of the horribly complicated science he’d been working with all day. So, he simply replied, “It was good. No one died working with disease strands and we all went home.”
She shook her head, trying to hold back a smile at his daily joke. “You know you could have just simply been a doctor who performed medical needs for people, and then I would not have to worry about you and your health and the health of our children.”
Akbar shrugged. “Well, I am much too old now to do anything about it, Abrisham. You know what they say about old dogs in America, don’t you?”
Abrisham, who was very well adapted to some of the ways of the west smiled, reaching and tugging at her husband’s belt and sliding her hands down his pants. “Oh, I do not believe you are that old, are you?”
Akbar smiled, looking into his wife’s dark-brown eyes and seeing the passion in them that he was very accustomed to seeing. He rubbed her arm up and down smoothly, tickling more than touching. “What are we going to do with the children? You know the minute we start, they are going to rush in, do you not?”
She smiled and pulled him towards the winding staircase by his pants and looked over at him with nothing less than seduction. “I rented them an American cartoon movie. They are going to be watching it for the next two hours.”
Akbar liked this idea and said, “Okay, well, will you go upstairs and get our shower going? I want to lock the front door and make sure the security system is on and active.”
She was in a teasing mood and tilted her head playfully. “You aren’t just thinking that maybe you’d like to come upstairs with me instead and take our chances? I don’t think anyone will try and take our little heathens. I’ve been with them all day long and I wouldn’t take them at this point.”
Akbar smiled. “You love them and you know it, even if they do drive you crazy. You are a wonderful mother and a beautiful wife. Now, go get the shower nice and steamy. I have a few spots on my back that I am going to need help getting clean.”
She patted the front of his pants, never faltering her smile. “Well, it seems like there might be a few places you might need help washing.”
He thought about the alarm and thought they would probably be okay, but knew there were too many insane people in the country with radical ideas, so he should do the responsible thing. He leaned up and gave her a long, deep kiss, patted her on the backside, and said, “Don’t get too hot without me.
I will be back in two shakes.”
Akbar smiled to himself, thinking of how great the rest of his night was going to be. He went by the living room and watched his children for a moment, smiling, and not for one moment forgetting how very lucky he was to have everyone in his life. He went to the front door and locked the deadbolt. What he saw next was so out of place that it seemed as if he was watching a dream.
A rusted-out military transport truck pulled up out of nowhere and in front of the double gates. Akbar watched in confusion as two men, both wearing masks and military uniforms, came from behind the truck where they worked like pros. The first man hit a latch to release a cable attached to the front of the truck. The second soon-to-be-intruder pulled the heavy-duty cable and wire in the direction that he was trying for. He wrapped it around where the two gates came together and set the hook. The two men ran out of the way, slamming on the hood to let the driver know that they would be clear. The two men both caught assault rifles that were thrown from someone who was in the back. The large diesel truck shifted into reverse, accelerating quickly and pulled the gate from its hinges.
After a moment, it broke from its place and the truck pulled it free and back twenty feet. Akbar screamed to his wife, who by now, he figured, was naked and in the shower. He ran outside, waving his hands in the air and shaking his fists. “What do you think you are doing? Get off of my property right now you pieces of shits. There are people living here! Take your crazy asses somewhere else now or I will call the police, I swear it to Allah.”
The children ran outside and the look that Akbar gave them was more than enough to make them reconsider their actions. The three turned on their heels and sprinted back inside the house. The oldest screamed to the younger siblings, “Get back inside, now, now!” Then to his father, “We are sorry, we just wanted to see what the commotion outside was about. Why did they tear our fence down, Father? Are they going to hurt us?”
