I played the hand Casey dealt me with relish as I watched the storm clouds form over Lucas’s features. “I believe you’re right, Case. We need to recapture The Sea Wolf. I’m sick of this tiptoeing around. Let’s bag this cheap Captain Ahab mime holding our ship hostage.” I pumped a fist in the air. “Free the Wolf… free the Wolf!”
“Yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Casey joined me for another call for action while Lucas stomped around like a real life Ahab.
“Knock it off you nut-cakes,” Denny ordered, walking out from the back room. “Let’s forego the usual banter. I didn’t see this coming and I’m not happy. We almost lost two valuable assets and John.”
Lucas and Casey cracked up at that remark.
“And unacceptable collateral damage,” Denny added. “The good news is our counter measures and crisis reaction were exceptional. Bad news is our electronic stuff sucked. Bring your wounded one to the interrogation room. We better get to him first while he’s still breathing. We’ll do the others later.”
Thus started a long but information rich day. No, they didn’t list names of the people behind the attack. They were two separate cells operating in the San Francisco and the Los Angeles area. They were a motley group with origins in Palestine, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Iran, and Chechnya. Once we had immediate identities, Denny relayed the information to Clint and Jafar. They would work in tandem to find even a thread involving shared financial or business interests, and any trace where they crossed paths with a common source.
We three musketeers clean up our own interrogation room. Denny also has area contacts who do things on a moment’s notice, along with resources for incarceration. He’s a full service horror show for enemies of the United States. His own personal rendition squad flies in to collect guys he wants to put on ice for a while until the information we get checks out. They come in by military means and fly out the same way. The clean up was nearly finished when Denny came in to update us.
“Jafar and Samira are at your place, John. I sent a crew in to fine tune your house. They specialize in crime scene cleanups. Clint and Jafar will work together with the stuff we have so far while the trail’s hot. We salvaged a lot of their electronics, which I shipped over to Clint and Jafar. We’re moving in any direction we need to the moment we get a target. Go on home, tighten up your defenses, and get ready to rock and roll. A statement will be made about Samira these assholes won’t ever forget.”
Denny didn’t get any argument from us. I wanted to know if Strobert had any ideas. “Did you have favorites in the area?”
Denny shrugged. “I have a wish list. There’s a Saudi Imam in the Sacramento area, practicing the favored terrorist sect of Islam – he’s a Wahhabi practitioner. He issued a Fatwa allowing rape of females fourteen and older found not to be adhering to Islamic law. Samira is a favorite target of his.”
I thought I knew who he was talking about. “Muhammad Abdul Azim?”
Denny smiled. “You must have heard Jafar talk about him.”
“Both he and Samira have mentioned that guy. Samira thinks too many people laugh him off as a whacko. She says he has a large following. The kid hates his guts.”
“Let’s go pick that sucker up,” Lucas said. “We’ll take Jafar with us. He needs some seasoning. Does this Azim have kids and a wife?”
I chuckled. “No. He’s a player. Azim pulls the Muslim persecution card at every opportunity, while defending honor killings and female genital mutilation. It drives Samira nuts.”
“Sounds like a primo candidate for an adjustment,” Casey said. “I’d like to see how Jafar does with something like this. He has a personal interest. We can monitor whether he can keep his feelings in check.”
“That would be my angle too,” Denny agreed. “I have no doubt about his outlook, but I’d like to see if he can handle something more in a gray area of right and wrong.”
“I doubt he’d care about whether Azim goes bye-bye,” I replied. “He lives in Davis at a house on Almond Lane, with access.”
“Have you been mapping this poor man, John?”
“Yeah, Lucas,” I admitted. “I’ve thought of twisting his stupid head off more times than even I like to admit, because he’s been on my radar since Samira married Jafar. The kids live in our neighborhood under our protection. I like the idea of making a few of these religious icons disappear, instead of allowing them to order other peoples’ deaths on a whim. I figured if Azim kept shooting his mouth off about Samira I would have no choice but to Gronk him.”
That got a few laughs.
“I’m in agreement. I doubt we’ll need many lessons if one of these weasels spews that Fatwa bullshit and ends up off planet a few days later. I take it you have a plan already on tap, John?”
“I do, but it involves the overuse of our new assets,” I admitted, cringing as I saw the Spawn of Satan grin knowingly. Lucas and Casey immediately disseminated what was passing in front of them. They switched immediately to hosts of the Harding roast.
“Case, I believe the Dark Lord has had the audacity to lecture the Spawn of Satan on the deployment of his assets. Woe on to the Dark Lord for such an affront.”
“Oh the shame, DL,” Casey piled right on, abandoning his cohort in the retaking of The Sea Wolf. “You have forbidden Spawn from deploying Clint and Lynn according to his perverted schedule? You indeed have ventured into the forbidden zone of discourse with Satan’s Spawn!”
I caved like a tulip in a tornado. “Okay… okay… I need Lynn to play dress up with Clint and go over to Azim’s place, plant a few camera feeds, and bug the house. He may already be familiar with the rest of us. We do want to know what he knows before we snuff him, right?”
“You know, DL, you’re sounding a lot more like Denny every day.” Lucas shook his head, regret lancing out with each word.
“Pretty soon he’ll be dressing in those butt ugly suits and gaining thirty extra pounds around his waist.”
Denny pointed a warning finger at Casey. “You’re lucky I have a sense of humor. John’s right. If we’re going to play with these people for a while, there’s no use in cutting off a solid illegal information gathering as long as we’re all on board. We want this kept in house at Murderer’s Row. Azim is on our shit list whether he’s connected with the two cells we’ve uncovered or not. Any objections?”
“Hell no, Denny,” Lucas answered. “If you and your mime have your hearts set on Azim, then Case and I are in all the way, right Case?”
“Hold on, Lucas,” Casey countered, waving his hand. “If we do this, do we have to take orders from Denny’s dupe here?”
Strobert was already laughing. I just beckoned with my hands. “C’mon… let it all out. This is because you guys ended up on a working vacation in Las Vegas. You two thought all was right with the world in Sin City, and the only thing to do there was sip whiskey, win a fortune, and watch me get my butt kicked. Get over it.”
“We’ve lost our brother, Case,” Lucas said, putting an arm around the shoulders of an equally grieving Casey as they walked toward the exit. “We never thought you would pass over to the dark side for real, DL.”
“C’mon, Lucas. Denny’s Gronked him. His soul is gone, leaving only a vapor trail. God help us all,” Casey finished with fervor.
I watched them leave like two mourners at their grandma’s funeral. Strobert finished me off with a pat on the shoulder. “Go on to your house. Now that you’ve joined management I’ll need you to go over and check on my other employees. Report back with any new development, DL.”
“Good one, Spawn.” What’s the use of arguing when you’ve already been Gronked.
Chapter Seventeen: Jafar’s Final Word
Clint pointed at the screen on Jafar’s laptop. The two of them were sitting in Harding’s den where work related business was conducted, their laptops open side by side on a desk. Lynn stayed with Lora and Alice while the work crew fixed the home. “You’re getting it now. Stay on that path. Section off lin
ks into categories in the database we created. Don’t memorize or get drawn away from our template. Let the software handle recognition once we provide all the facts. Getting bogged down in financial records, events attended, or acquaintances will only cloud up the picture. What we’re doing is a little like the data mining the feds do when scanning millions of items on the Internet. We don’t want targets at this stage. We want keywords, locales, and interests we can base a wide search on through every database in existence. With enough connections, no matter how slight, you’ll see what would have been thousands of suspected sources reduced drastically.”
Jafar nodded, smiling in appreciation as Clint sat back down to handle his list. “The Company instructors were much less imaginative than this.”
“You’re real good, Jafar. Don’t let the profilers ruin your intuitiveness. Never set out with a fixed template. Build your query database with an expandable template, adding parameters as you go. The FBI likes to highlight their hotshot profilers, but they fudge their stats all the time. They are nearly useless with random acts. If crimes were all committed by people the victims know, then sure, the FBI or local cops can round up the usual suspects. Random burglaries, killings, thefts, identity thieving rings, or nearly anything involving unknown perps who move their base of operations will stymie law enforcement agencies. They have guidelines not to catch perps, but to protect their own asses when they find nothing. Then they point at their guidebooks and profiling sheets claiming they did everything possible.”
Jafar chuckled. “You do not have much respect for law enforcement.”
“I have respect for their dedication. I just don’t think much of their tactics. Working with John and the crew you’re part of, will be my first opportunity at going after bad guys without my hands tied behind my back.”
“John told me you have already found the serial killers the FBI could not locate at all who have been mutilating and torturing women all over.”
“Yep. Lynn and I are going to get them. Then we’ll find out how many those monsters have actually killed no one knows about.” Clint glanced over the screen networked with Jafar. “I think we have enough to send out our first query into the system. He opened up another window, and typed for a moment with blinding speed before hitting enter. “Now we wait. This is our check of whether we’re establishing the right query.”
Clint didn’t just input the data and relax. He tracked progress on parallel screens. His brows knitted. He focused a laser like glance of admonishment over at Jafar. “Okay… I get it… you think you can dick over the old guy. What’s with this Azim character? You’ve jacked the data real nice so he comes up as a suspect. I’m beginning to think you’re disrespecting me, kid.”
Jafar’s eyes widened. He had no illusions as to Dostiene’s abilities at a computer or in mass casualties. He had been interacting with accomplished killers and knew when he was in the presence of a very dangerous man. “I am sorry, Clint. I jacked the input because Azim has said things about Samira to end her life countless times. I want him dead, and I would like the opportunity to do it myself.”
Clint grinned. “Hell, kid, you didn’t have to fudge me. You have a reason to want someone dead, just tell me. You want Azim to shine as a mastermind with the two cells that John, Casey, and Lucas have decimated. We can make it happen. I can tell in your face you want Azim in a private setting.”
Jafar’s face lost all semblance of dissemination. “I love Samira with all my heart and soul. Azim has said things about her that can only be answered with death. I wish to beat him to death and piss on his grave.”
Clint laughed, clapping Jafar on the back. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about. All we have to do is figure out who the real sources are, and then we’ll fix Azim up for the adjustment too. What we can’t do is substitute him for the real perps. Keep the mission foremost in your mind, Jafar. Opportunities always present themselves if you stick with the prime objective. You’ve already told me enough about this Azim character to make me want to go take care of him right away. How serious are you, kid?”
Jafar met Clint’s gaze without looking away. “As serious as you and Lynn are about fixing those Harvard serial killers.”
“Definitely serious enough then. Well… well… it looks like we don’t have to set your buddy Azim up at all. Look who just popped up as the front runner even without your helper items. I bet you’re not the only one looking at Azim. Strobert always has a wish list stashed away for a rainy day. My guess is Azim’s name won’t surprise him much. Here’s a Chechen pretty high up on the list of probables – Ruslan Umarov.” They waited in silence for a moment until the database query ended with one other name – Saud Morcos.
Jafar gripped Clint’s arm, pointing at the screen. “John picked that guy up on a bond skip two months ago. He should have been deported back to Iran.”
“What did he jump bail on?”
“Threatening witnesses in an attempted honor killing. The eighteen year old girl got away with her life, thanks to a neighbor down the street from where they lived. He heard her screaming for help, all bloody and beaten. The neighbor hid her and called the police. The girl’s uncle and brother were arrested for attempted murder. When it came to trial, jurors in the case complained to the judge about their families getting threatening e-mail notes. They were traced to Morcos.”
“How did John get involved?”
“The bail bond company that agreed to post a bond for Morcos already knew it was a bad risk, so they got a big up front fee and hired John to make sure Morcos didn’t skip. I tracked his expenditures. When he bought a ticket to the East Coast, John was waiting for him at Oakland International. Lora informed security around the United entrance. Then, John and Tommy faced him up when he was dropped off. He spit on John and got Gronked. Tommy said John hit him so hard, people nearby fainted from pain in commiseration.”
Clint laughed appreciatively. “I think we’ve hit the trifecta, kid. No one posted bail for that Morcos guy. You’re right. He had a limited visa, and should have been thrown out of the country. I see they released him on an unspecified technicality. What a crock! It looks like it’s up to us for the judicial correction. There, I uploaded it to Denny. We’ll see if he reacts the way we want him to. If he doesn’t, we’ll do it anyway but tighten up our rules of engagement. I’m sure Denny will want to question the guy, and his two cohorts. We’ll try right now to nail the point of origin for these two cells, but it may not be possible without a few tidbits of info from this rung on the ladder.”
“You have not seen Mr. Strobert’s warehouse they call the ‘House of Pain’,” Jafar replied. “They have a 100% success rate when questioning known terrorists. I do not know why that Senator keeps claiming torture doesn’t work, because it works every time in the ‘House of Pain’.”
“I bet it does. There’s a reason we have ways to take ourselves out under hard interrogation,” Clint replied. “No one can withstand the stuff human beings can dream up for torture.”
“I heard you were taken, but you did not kill yourself.”
Clint shrugged. “The guy who had me interrogated lacked imagination. He wanted me alive as a card to play on people over him later. His guards eventually became complacent. Let’s work on this project with the assumption we’ll proceed immediately. Call up Morcos’s last known address. We’ll make sure he’s there when we go to collect him. With his building plans, I’ll be able to give John a few suggestions on taking him.”
“John has not said how he met you. Was it overseas?”
Dostiene stared solemnly at Jafar as a picture kaleidoscope played in his head for a moment. “I was already in the Afghan mountains with a Company team, scouting for an offensive against a developing Taliban force near the Pakistani border. It was a joint operation with the Marines. They sent Marine Recon units ahead of their regimental force to hook up with us. Strobert worked liaison duties between the Marines and us. I laser guided a target for demolition by the Air Force. A morta
r round knocked me out before the Air Force arrived to decimate the Taliban encampment.”
“Denny knew my last known position. He had his eye on John already from prior actions. He asked for volunteers to go get a man down, but the officers rightly labeled it a suicide mission, promising once they secured the area, my position would be the first checked. Harding spoke up then, claiming he was familiar with the area from the last time Marine Recon had been on scout in the area. John’s squad leader backed him on a one man retrieval mission, and the officers reluctantly agreed.”
“When I eventually came to, I was bumping along across the Dark Lord’s shoulders. He nearly had me all the way back when a Taliban force encountered our back trail. John saw we weren’t going to make it. He backtracks to rocky cover and checks me over. John grins and hands me his .45 caliber sidearm with extra clips. ‘Do you know how to use one of these,’ he asks. I laughed and nodded at the sarcastic prick. He and I took out an entire Taliban team from ambush before some of their main force started catching up. By then Marine Recon teams had moved into a nearer position. The Marine snipers mangled everything within five hundred yards of us. John helped me to our forward positions. I was seeing double which had made our fight in the rocks exciting. Every time I missed, John would have a new remark about my shooting prowess. I only laughed and killed at one time I can remember. That was the time.”
Jafar listened to Dostiene’s accounting of the meeting with rapt attention, completely forgetting about what they had been working on. When Clint finished, Jafar quickly told him about his overnighter with John in jail, complete with a detailed description of Harding’s adjustment of Terry Nelson he had only mentioned before in Las Vegas. He watched with amusement as Clint howled in laughter at John’s remark in jail after knocking out Nelson, when he warned everyone down to a sitting position or they would be partying with him. “Everyone sat down… even if it was on the cell floor.”
Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books) Page 56
