A Prayer for the Devil

by Allan, Dale

  She wrote, filling the page, “TO KILL YOU.”

  KAMILAH QUICKLY SCRIBBLED, “I have to go. School will wonder why I’m late. If I ever say anything about what happened in Boston, they will cut off my hands. I’ve suffered enough.”

  Luke looked at her and quietly asked, “Were the Russos’ deaths an accident?”

  She looked down at the ground. Luke had his answer.

  Shaken, Luke watched passively as Masud took out his gun again and placed it against Kamilah’s head. He yelled in Arabic for a few minutes before finally releasing her. She quickly ran away, looking back at Luke one last time.

  Walking back to the car, Luke demanded, “Was that really necessary? And what did you say to her before you let her go?”

  “I swore that if she ever told anyone about what just happened, I would have her entire family killed. I know where her sister and brother live. I also promised her that I would kill Fatih’s wife and her entire family. And lastly, I threatened that I would cut off her niece’s fingers until she bled to death.”

  Luke looked at him in horror. This prompted Masud to say, “I did it for your benefit.”

  Luke doubted that it was for his benefit alone. Masud clearly enjoyed playing the torturer.

  Before they got into the car, Masud said, “I wouldn’t suggest talking to Fatih’s father, but if you want me to arrange it, I will.”

  Luke ignored him and said, “I’m changing plans and leaving for Boston now. I want to see Jamilah before I leave.” Masud nodded and picked up his phone.

  They stopped at the hotel to check out and rebook Luke’s flight, then Masud drove Luke to the airport. When they pulled up to the terminal, Luke asked, “When am I going to see Jami?”

  Masud looked in his rearview mirror. “Any second now.”

  Looking back, Luke saw a black limo approach. Masud got out and talked to the driver for a few minutes. Returning, he told Luke, “She’s waiting in the car.”

  Luke hurried out. The limo driver opened the back door, and Luke climbed in. Jami looked at him and said, “Luke, I will miss you.”

  “You’re not coming back with me, are you?”

  She shook her head. “No, it was part of my agreement with Layth. I promised to marry him.”

  Luke’s eyes filled with tears. “Why are you doing this?”

  He could see that she was overcome with emotion. “Because Ablaa would have done it for me.” Then she asked, “Why are you doing this? You’re putting yourself in great danger.”

  Overcome with sadness, he replied, “Because Aaron would have done it for me.”

  She removed her head scarf and smiled through her tears. “You see, Luke, we are not that much different after all.” Seeing that her driver was preoccupied outside the car, talking with Masud, Luke reached over and hugged her. She returned his embrace.

  Before he could leave, Jami said, “Make sure he pays. I will make sure his father pays, even if I have to hire someone myself. Layth will help.”

  Luke said despairingly, “I can’t believe I’ll never see you again.”

  She forced a smile. “Maybe once Layth understands how stubborn and hotheaded I am, he will divorce me. As Luke began to open the car door, she said seriously, “I’m sure we will meet again.”

  When Luke turned away to head toward the terminal building, the limo driver approached him and introduced himself. “Mr. Miller, I’m Layth Abbar. It’s an honor to meet you.” Surprised, Luke held out his hand, but Layth bowed. Luke did the same. “I want you to know that if you need anything else, please let me know,” Layth said.

  Luke stared at him. “Be good to Jami.”

  Layth smiled. “She already has me driving her around in a limo.” Luke smiled back. Becoming serious, Layth continued, “I have loved her since the first time I saw her.”

  Looking into his eyes, Luke believed him.

  CONCERNED THAT LUKE WAS already late for his flight, Layth had Masud follow him into the airport. As they arrived at the security area, they found hundreds of people impatiently waiting in line. Several men were yelling and pushing without any regard for the women and children in the queue. Masud walked over the counter and said something to a young man. Minutes later, another man in a dark suit appeared. Luke watched as the two men talked in Arabic for a few seconds. Looking at Luke, the man waved and led him past the crowds to a separate area where he was searched and his bag was x-rayed. Luke waved to Masud and rushed through the terminal. Arriving at the gate, he was the last passenger to board the plane.

  Exhausted, Luke realized that he had hardly eaten anything or slept in the past day. With stops in Dubai and London before arriving in Boston, he knew that it would be another twenty-three hours before he was home. Regardless, his mind raced as he tried to anticipate what Fatih was planning. He hoped Deborah and the children were safe in the mountains. John should be untraceable, since Aaron’s office building was titled under a separate LLC, making it almost impossible to connect to the family. And Vincent should be out of danger, since no one knew he was back in Boston. And who would even think to look on a boat in the middle of winter?

  Then he had a sobering thought. What about his parents? Could they be a target? He quickly did the math in his head to determine what time Fatih would get to Boston. Even if Fatih had left five hours before and had a flight with only one connection, he wouldn’t land in Boston before Luke reached his first stopover in Dubai. Luke would call his parents as soon as he landed and demand that they leave their house and stay away.

  Luke couldn’t sleep and was consumed with anxiety as the plane made its first landing. He grabbed his small carry-on bag and quickly made his way through the walkway and into the gate area. Since his cell phone was useless here, he rushed to find a phone. Looking around, he realized that he was already a world away from Saudi Arabia. Upscale stores like Chanel, Givenchy, and Dior lined the airport terminal. Western food was readily available at McDonald’s or Starbucks. Luke found a business center, where the receptionist helped him place the international call. As the phone began ringing, Luke thanked her and she walked away. Realizing that it was the middle of the night in Boston, Luke rehearsed what he would say when his father answered the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Dad, it’s Luke, everything is fine and I don’t want you to worry, but please listen carefully to what I’m about to say. You need to leave the house within the next hour and go out of town. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Maybe you can go to Uncle Ira’s house in Vermont?”

  His father responded groggily, “What? Are you sure you’re OK?”

  “Yes, Dad, I’m fine.”

  He could hear his mother in the background, questioning what was going on.

  “Where are you, son?”

  “I’m in Dubai, but I’ll be home soon.”

  “Where the hell is Dubai?”

  “I’ll explain everything when I see you. But now, please promise me that you will leave the house soon.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s just a precaution, but I want to make sure you’re safe.”

  His father hesitated and asked, “Are you safe?”

  Luke wasn’t really sure himself, but he said, “I’m fine.”

  Luke’s mother got on the phone and started asking more questions. Luke did his best to avoid answering them directly, but he was finally able to convince them to leave. Before he hung up, Luke’s dad got back on the phone. “Did you find Aaron’s killer?”

  “Yes, but now I need to make him pay.”

  FATIH WALKED THROUGH LOGAN airport in Boston, looking like any other American. With his black Levi’s, Abercrombie sweatshirt, and iPod, he confidently made his way to the customs counter. When he was summoned by the agent, he smiled boldly and handed her his U.S. passport. Seeing the stamp from Riyadh, she looked up and said, “Welcome home.”

  Having only a small carry-on bag, he headed past the baggage claim and out the sliding glass doors to the curb. He took a white l
inen shawl out of his bag and draped it over his shoulders as a signal. A few minutes later, an empty cab pulled up with its taxi light off. He jumped into the backseat, and they slowly made their way out of the airport. As they drove, he asked the man about his family and his life in the Middle East before he came to the States. Before long, Fatih directed the driver to a deteriorated warehouse by the water. As they pulled into the parking lot, his cell phone rang. “Hello, Father.”

  “Are you in the car?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a bag with a gun under the seat. Screw on the silencer and follow the plan we discussed.”

  The plan had been in place for many years, with several different scenarios mapped out in great detail. Having Blade killed was easily handled from Riyadh, but killing the priest was another story. Fatih’s father, Ismail, had determined that this required a hands-on approach. Even though there was no hard evidence linking them to the bombing, the priest was getting close and might soon go to the local police. He had to be dealt with now. Fatih was more than willing to die to protect his father, but the plan was to make Luke’s death look like a suicide. They would shoot him in the head and place the gun in his hand. They joked about the newspaper headlines, “Heartbroken Priest Couldn’t Wait to See God.” Once Luke was dead, Fatih would drive to the outskirts of Boston, pick up another car, and assume a new identity. Then he would make his way to the Canadian border and stay there for a few months before going back to the Middle East.

  Ismail said, “Call me when you are finished,” and Fatih ended the call.

  He exited the cab, saying, “Wait here for me. I’ll be right back.” But then he looked down at one of the tires and stopped. “Your tire has a nail in it,” he said to the driver, pointing at the front of the car. The man hurried to get out and bent down to look. Fatih quietly moved behind him and nonchalantly pulled the trigger. The old man’s limp body lay on the freezing asphalt. Fatih whispered, “Allah Akbar,” before taking the linen cloth from around his shoulders and wrapping it around what was left of the dead man’s blood-soaked head. Following the plan, Fatih took the driver’s wallet and cash, so that it appeared he was robbed. Fatih dragged him by his feet until his body was hidden behind a dumpster. He smiled while backing up the car as several seagulls landed and pecked at the last pieces of flesh that lay on the ground.

  He took the portable GPS unit out of his bag and scanned the preprogrammed addresses. He selected Saint Leonard’s Church. Once there, he parked on the street and studied a picture of Luke that he had retrieved from the Internet. Then he entered the church and sat in a pew in the back, listening to a group of elderly parishioners as they prayed the rosary. When an old woman began walking out, he followed her to the gathering space. “Excuse me, can you tell me if Father Luke Miller is here?”

  She smiled. “I’m sorry, but he hasn’t been here for weeks. I hope he comes back soon.”

  “Me too,” Fatih said with a smile.

  He returned to the cab and selected the next address from the GPS. It was getting dark as he drove past Luke’s parents’ house and parked as far away as he could while keeping it in sight. Seeing no car in the driveway, he waited. He took a pack of gum from his bag, unwrapped a piece, and tried to relax. When his patience ran short, he left the car and walked down the block. He looked up and down the street before making his way up the narrow driveway and into the backyard. He peered into the windows but didn’t see anyone. Walking up the back steps, he put on a pair of gloves, then he leaned against the old wooden door, pushing with all his weight. On the second shove, the door jamb splintered, and he fell into the kitchen.

  He cautiously entered every room in the small house and quickly determined that it was empty. Returning to the bedroom that Luke and Aaron had shared as boys, he mockingly took time to study their baseball trophies and pictures. “These infidel Americans cared more about baseball than God. What blasphemy.”

  Once back in the cab, he thought about where he would go next. Newspaper articles and the Internet had been valuable sources of information on the man he was about to kill. He knew what his old truck and new car looked like, and he even knew the name of the bank where he kept his inheritance. He was especially anxious to meet Luke’s friend Jamilah. He had vowed that one day he would return to the States and slit the throat of that little bitch who betrayed her religion by befriending the priest.

  He started the cab and drove toward his next stop: Aaron’s mansion.

  AFTER A LONG AND unexpected delay in London, Luke’s plane finally landed in Boston. It was now the middle of the night, but he turned on his cell phone and frantically called John’s number. He apologized for waking him and said, “Can you pick me up at the airport?”

  Hearing the panic in Luke’s voice, John replied, “I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.”

  “Change of plans. I just landed.”

  “I’ll leave right now.”

  Luke said, “Before you pick me up, could you swing by Aaron’s house and see if Lori’s car is in the driveway? If it is, make sure the guard is still at the gate.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll explain when I see you.”

  Luke rushed through the airport. Before entering the line for customs, he called his mother’s cell phone and was relieved to hear that they were staying with Uncle Ira. He felt even better when his father said that they had talked with Deborah earlier and she was concerned that Luke wasn’t answering his cell phone. It was too late to call her now. Despite his parents’ protest, he refused to get into the details of his trip but promised to explain everything in the morning.

  Fatih parked the cab a few blocks away from Aaron’s house and pulled on a hooded sweatshirt. Now dressed all in black, he walked along the tree line of each house until the mansion was in sight. He slowly approached the security guard’s car while pulling the gun out of his belt. The car’s window was open; he could smell cigarette smoke and hear music from the radio. The interior light was on, and the man appeared to be reading the newspaper. Not wanting to kill him and ruin his chance to make Luke’s murder look like a suicide, he backed away and carefully walked the perimeter of the property to see if there were any other guards. When he reached the back of the lot, he noticed a small clearing in the woods. Entering, he was surprised to see an aluminum ladder glistening in the full moon’s light. After checking the rest of the property, he ran back and climbed over the wall. When he reached the other side, he positioned the ladder so he could climb back over, just as Luke had done so many times before.

  He crept silently around the house and peered into each ground-level window. Seeing a white Cadillac in the driveway, he hoped the priest was home. He crouched by the front door and looked through one of the etched glass side lights, and he saw a green indicator light on the alarm keypad. Knowing that this typically meant that the system was disengaged, he checked every window and door to see if any were unlocked. Not having any luck with the ground floor, he ran and grabbed the ladder from the back wall to see if he could reach the second-floor windows. After a few tries, he pushed on one and it opened. He listened for an alarm and, not hearing one, he hoisted himself through the window and landed in a large bathroom with a whirlpool tub. He closed the window behind him, then took a penlight from his pocket and began searching for Luke.

  He shined the light around the bedroom adjacent to the bathroom. Seeing a Bible on the nightstand, he thought that he had found the priest but was disappointed to find that no one was in the bed.

  He proceeded to the hallway, moving quickly with his gun in one hand and the light in the other, and checked each room carefully. There was no sign of anyone until he walked through the open door that led to the biggest bedroom in the house. It was dark, and a woman he assumed was Luke’s brother’s wife lay in a short, silky nightgown, sleeping facedown on the bed. From the back, Fatih could see her brown hair, long shapely legs, and black thong. He stared at her in disgust, yet found himself becoming unco
ntrollably aroused. Mad at her for causing him to lose control, he pointed the gun at the back of her head and thought about pulling the trigger, whispering, “I should kill this worthless whore.” But regaining his composure, he forced himself to walk out. When he finished looking through every other room in the house, he walked out the gym door, leaving it unlocked in case he had to return.

  Once back in the taxi, he sat and thought about what he should do next. If Luke was staying at the house, he should have already been home. When he saw a set of headlights in his rearview mirror, he sank down in his seat. Seeing Luke’s old pickup truck pass by, he smiled and thanked Allah.

  He followed the truck, making sure to stay far enough behind that he wasn’t noticed. When it stopped by the security guard’s car, he was happy that he hadn’t killed the man. After a few minutes, he was surprised when the truck pulled away. He followed and was confused when the pickup turned toward the airport. Realizing that there were a lot of other cabs on the road, he sped up and followed closer, confident that he wouldn’t be noticed. Fatih was now worried that if Luke got on a plane, he would have no chance of killing him.

  Surprisingly, the truck turned at the sign for “arriving flights.” The pickup pulled over to the curb and parked. Confused, Fatih did the same. When a police officer approached the pickup, he began to panic. Moments later, the truck pulled away and Fatih followed. As expected, the truck circled the airport, and after a few minutes they were back at the arrivals curb. Fatih waited and hoped that the police wouldn’t make Luke move the truck again. Hearing a knock on the window, he jumped and looked as a woman in a dark suit asked, “Are you available?” Startled, he didn’t understand, but then realized that she wanted a cab. Knowing that his taxi light was off, he pointed silently at the car’s roof, and she walked away.

  He waited behind the truck for what seemed like an eternity, praying that a police officer would not make him move the cab. Then, suddenly, he saw a man pass through the sliding glass doors and head toward the truck. When the man turned to open the door, Fatih was shocked. It was his target, the priest.