by Geri Foster
Could he be reconsidering?
During the night, she’d slipped on her tee shirt and panties, so after gulping down half the coffee, she tossed the covers aside, maneuvered around him, and padded to the bathroom.
Inside, she closed the door, put her cup on the sink, and picked up the toothbrush. After brushing her teeth and quietly thanking him for remembering how important flossing was to her, she finished the coffee and stepped out of the room.
He waited for her with what little patience he had left. His features were cool and somber, but she could tell by the set of his shoulders she needed to get a move on. Something told her they were going to Washington so he could pawn her off on Frank and he wouldn’t be forced to look after her so his entire focus could be on stopping the terrorists.
A part of her understood but it still hurt. She lowered her gaze to hide her pain.
“I’m ready when you are,” she rushed to dress. “Sorry we’re probably going to be stuck in traffic most of the way.”
“It’s okay, we’ll go grab breakfast and wait for it to thin out some.”
She glanced at him. “Really? I thought you were in a hurry.”
“We’re not far from the Inner Harbor. Even with traffic, we should be in Washington in about an hour, give or take.”
“We could take Amtrak. That’s fast.”
“I have a car that I’ll probably need once we get to D.C. It’s best we drive. Besides, once we’re there we’ll just have to wait for Frank.”
She looked away. Dammit, I was right.
They exited the room after Garrett made sure the hall was empty and stepped out into the cool air. The day matched her mood—gray, with the threat of rain hanging heavily in the air.
She opened the door and sighed.
“What’s wrong?” he looked at her intently.
She had nothing more to lose since their relationship was already dead. “We made love last night and this morning I sure would’ve liked a kiss.” She fought back tears. “Or would that be asking too much?”
He turned to her and stilled, uncertainty flashing across his face. He didn’t know what to do. It surprised her when he reached out, hooked his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her close. Their lips met with the same intensity and need as last night.
His other arm came around her and he pressed her close against his body. He explored her mouth and her heart pounded in her chest.
When he finally released her mouth, their gazes clashed. “Anything else you need to start your day?” He went around and got in on the driver’s side.
She licked her lips and shyly looked away. “Maybe another cup of coffee.”
He grinned and started the engine. “Coming right up.”
Janice compiled the monthly reports for the pharmaceutical company that Preston’s lobbying firm represented in Washington. From the figures she’d seen, Preston’s company made a lot of money, but so did Strage-Mire Pharmaceutical. All thanks to Preston’s persuasive personality.
She knew about that first hand. Janice shamelessly flirted with him during her interview and knew that was the sole reason he’d hired her. Hell, he even created the position to justify her salary.
She was also confident he’d hired her because she said everything he’d wanted to hear, right down to his was not the first questionable lobbying group who’d hired her. When he learned the truth about the whole matter, he wouldn’t like it one bit. She wasn’t worried one bit. This was what she did best.
Lie.
She quickly stacked the papers neatly and put them on the corner of her desk. No doubt, her office would be his first stop when Preston arrived at work this morning. Even with twenty other employees, he chose her office as his favorite hangout.
He’d come in and talk about what was on his mind that particular day and she recorded every word. Never once had she been careless about the information she gathered. Too many people relied on her to find the truth.
Janice pressed her lips together, making sure her lipstick was even after taking a sip of coffee. At precisely seven ‘o clock, Preston walked off the elevator and into the main office. For the first time since she’d started working for him, he bypassed her office and went directly toward his own. He quickly unlocked the door and went in, only to promptly shut it behind him. She heard the lock click.
She wondered what had happened. Fear chilled her to the bone and she wondered if she’d been found out. Had someone caught on? If Preston had bothered to dig deep enough into her background, he’d figure out she wasn’t who she claimed to be.
As quickly as he entered his office, he left. His long strides ate up the distance to the door, his briefcase gripped tightly in one hand and his cell phone in his other. Again, he never even glanced her way. Instead, he left without a word to anyone.
Janice prayed she hadn’t screwed up.
Jim barely closed his eyes last night for fear the damned Dune coon, Jo-Jo, or the police would come knocking at his door. Relief washed over him when his phone rang and he recognized Clyde’s number.
“What took you so damn long,” Jim griped. “I’ve been half out of my mind.”
“What the fuck do I care? I’m not your personal whore and I’m sure as hell not the answer to all your problems.” Clyde’s mood didn’t appear to be any better than his. “What shit did you step in now?”
That made Jim madder. “Listen here, asshole, I’ve stuck my neck out for you a few times in the past. Or have you forgotten about that time in Houston? Huh? And don’t give me any of your crap today. I’m not in the mood.”
“Stop with the bullshit and just tell me what you want.”
“I need you to kill that damn Albanian. He’s threatening me and I don’t have his money.”
“Damn it, Jim. I can’t just kill him. Hell, I’d have to eliminate pretty much every Albanian in town. Men who are killers by trade. That ain’t no easy task.”
“You telling me you can’t do it?”
“No, I’m telling you I don’t want to. Not anytime soon. He’d just a soon kill me as you.”
“Well, he’s got to go. I bought some weapons from him and my buyer’s backed out on me.”
“So, sell them to someone else.”
“I don’t have time. Last night, Gashi said if I didn’t have his money today I was dead.” Jim hesitated for a minute. “And if I have to get a buyer too quick, I’ll look desperate and lose a lot of money.”
“You are desperate, and it’s better to lose a little of your profit than your life.”
“You kill the son of a bitch and I won’t be out a dime.”
“I probably can’t get to him today. You know he goes into hiding for days at a time.”
Jim looked at his watch. “Yeah, but in about an hour, him and his damn hitmen will be at my range to kill me.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you there.”
“Don’t let me down, Clyde. Not if you know what’s good for you.”
“Listen, you fat piece of shit. I should let that damn maniac kill you so you stop with the damn threats.”
“Just be at my range in forty-five minutes.” Jim disconnected the call and put the phone in his pocket.
Jim hadn’t bothered to undress last night. No need when he knew there would be no sleeping. He went to the grimy bathroom with the yellow stained sink and splashed water on his face.
He’d love a cup of coffee, but that would have to wait. He didn’t have time to dick around. If he wasn’t careful and the fucking Albanian had anything to say about it, he might be dead by nightfall.
Jim left the sleazy hotel and made it safely to his rusted out pick up. The door squeaked so loud when he opened it he wondered if he’d wake up half the residents. He didn’t care. People who stayed at Louie’s Motel didn’t tend to stick their noses into other people’s business.
He drove out of the lot and onto the busy street. Checking his mirrors to make sure he wasn’t being followed, he went straight to the range. He had to g
et this matter straightened out, once and for all. Enough was enough. Once Clyde offed the Albanian and his henchmen, Jim planned to stick to his idea of heading south for good. He’d find himself a little place by the ocean and never look back.
No more shady deals. He doubted he’d ever really walk the straight and narrow, but no more scary shit. He’d learned his lesson. And this time, unlike before, it would stick.
Chapter Thirteen
Garrett drove to a local restaurant and they scooted into a booth by the window where he could keep his eyes on the car. There was no reason to fight rush-hour traffic. I-295 wouldn’t be as bad after people got to work.
Before they checked out, Frank had called to say he’d be taking off from Dallas as soon as air traffic control cleared his flight. Once in Washington, Frank planned to hand Haley off to the CIA. They would put her in a safe house while they try to figure out what El Hashem had really been planning. In his gut, Garrett knew the worst was yet to come.
He hadn’t figured out exactly what the purpose of the airport bombing served, but he knew El Hashem well enough to know he didn’t make mistakes like that. Something went wrong and it was imperative Garret found out what. He worried about an attack on the White House, Capitol Hill, the Pentagon, or even the president himself.
Targets in D.C. were a veritable banquet for terrorists.
He stirred his coffee as he watched Haley comb over the menu. He knew what he’d have but she was adventurous when it came to breakfast. He always ordered eggs, toast, and hash browns, no matter where he went. He’d bet his Glock that whatever Haley ordered, she’d request a side of crisp bacon. She couldn’t help herself.
“Find anything interesting?”
She lowered the menu and peeped over its top. “Maybe an omelet.”
“Can you get a bacon omelet?”
She smiled and put down the menu. “I’ll have the bacon on the side.”
“As usual.”
“I’m from Texas, what do you expect?”
“As someone who’s always on a diet, I’d half expect you to order fruit and yogurt.”
She batted her eyes, twisted her lips to one side, and wrinkled her nose. “I hate yogurt. It smells funny.” She shook out the cloth napkin and spread it across her lap. “Besides, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. You have to load up.”
“I’ve seen you run ten miles on an empty stomach.”
“Yeah, and I always eat a big meal afterwards,” she chuckled and grinned.
The waitress came to their table and knelt at the end of their booth. “What can I get for you guys.”
“I want a veggie omelet, wheat toast, and crisp bacon.” She held up her cup. “More coffee, please.”
“Yes ma’am, and for you, sir?”
“Eggs over medium, toast, and hash browns.” He tapped the rim of his cup. “Coffee for me as well.”
The woman stood. “I’ll be right back with the pot.”
She walked away and Garrett glanced outside at the parking lot and froze. Two of El Hashem’s men stood next to his rental and one was looking around inside the car. Worse, they both had their guns out.
Damn, they’d found them.
Nagi prepared for his meeting. He should be worried as the man never bothered to give his name or a description of what he looked like. He should be, but he wasn’t, their meeting was destined. They must meet today and see if this man knew what El Hashem had planned. If not, he’d need help to come up with a plan of his own.
As instructed, Abdulla parked near the Inner Harbor over on Light Street. Looking up and down the street, he stepped away from the vehicle, and braced himself against the wind. He crossed the street, moving closer to the convention center. The man never said which side of the building he’d be waiting on. Would the man be by the front door or out by the parking lot?
Nagi walked the area, looking at all the people milling around, and not finding anyone who was also looking for someone. A woman with a baby stopped nearby to glance at a city map in her hand as she gazed around, confused. She glanced at him and pointed at the center. “Do you know where we are?”
He bowed politely then turned away. “No, I’m not from here. I’m meeting someone.” He quickly walked around a trash can and hurried away before speaking to her drew attention. He felt it wise to be seen alone so the stranger wouldn’t be afraid to approach him.
He couldn’t afford to scare him away.
After an hour, most of the people had already ventured into their offices and he saw a man standing on the corner, a newspaper folded under his arm and a briefcase in his hand. Nagi looked around carefully and then approached the man slowly, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to himself.
“Are you Zareeb El Hashem’s friend?’
“Yes, I am Megaza Nagi.”
He turned. “Follow me.” The man walked away, leaving Nagi to follow in his wake. A chauffeured, luxurious town car arrived at the curb. The door opened and Nagi slid inside the expensive vehicle, noting its rich leather seats.
The stranger joined him and closed the door. He turned to him. “Did Zareeb explain our attack?”
Nagi shook his head. “He had no time. He died before he had a chance.” The man’s brows drew sharply together and Nagi pondered if the man worried whether Zareeb really died before divulging the plan or simply had not trusted him. While the latter was true, Nagi couldn’t afford for anyone to discern the truth.
From the moment El Hashem suggested Nagi accompany him to America, he had pestered his friend to tell him the plan. El Hashem remained steadfastly closed mouth and only mentioned the airport bombing moments before it happened.
“How did you know about me?” The stranger narrowed his eyes.
“As he breathed his last, El Hashem gave me your name and instructed me to contact you for further direction.”
“So, you truly no nothing of his plan?”
“El Hashem thought it wise that remain between the two of you, so if captured, none of the rest of us could talk.”
“Do any of the other men know of me?”
“No,” Nagi lifted his chin. “Only me.” He hoped his last words would help the man feel confident enough to confide in him.
“Perhaps it’s best if we go to my office and talk.”
Nagi nodded. “As you wish.”
“How many men did he bring?”
Nagi had to make himself invaluable to the American. “We traveled with seven and yesterday five more joined us. Sadly, three of our men have been returned to our Iman in Pakistan.”
A hint of true sadness covered Preston’s face. “Can you depend on the rest?”
“Yes. Each man was hand-picked by El Hashem.” Nagi lied. He had no idea where the men came from. Perhaps El Hashem’s hometown, Lahore He didn’t know, nor had his friend volunteered the information.
After several attempts to get Zareeb to tell him the plan, he’d grown annoyed and was tempted to pull out. He wondered if staying put would give him a better chance to guarantee his entrance into Paradise, then his friend promised they would be blessed by Allah. They would be revered by their compatriots at home, ISIS would speak of them as heroes for years to come, and they would all either return home unscathed or be welcomed into Allah’s holy Paradise as was His will.
It seemed his dream to bring jihad to American soil would come to pass, however things had not gone as planned. The debacle at the airport made him wonder why this American wished to continue. The entire eastern part of the United States was on high alert and looking for them.
Anything from here forward would take great planning and careful consideration if they hoped to succeed. Nagi snuck a glance at the man riding in the car with him. For all appearances, the man was an average American businessman, so Nagi wanted to know why this man wished to bring his own country to its knees.
Jim pulled into the lot outside his shop and jumped out of his vehicle almost before turning off his ignition. Clyde got out of his v
ehicle and walked toward the door. “Hey,” Jim waved him off. “I need to unlock that and shut down the alarm.”
Jim was anxious to get this mess over and done with. They’d wait until Ditmir Gashi showed up and then Clyde would threaten him, making it clear that he’d get his damned money when he got his money. It wasn’t like he wanted to cheat him or anything.
Jim opened the door and switched on the lights. His jaw dropped when he saw the door to his office had been ripped off the hinges. He stepped inside and found the young boy, Hiram, lying dead on the floor, his head crushed. “What the hell happened here?”
Clyde walked to the huge safe and ran his hand over the dials. “Looks like Gashi paid you a visit. He probably thought the kid knew the combination to the safe and when he didn’t, they killed him.”
“Bunch of gutless bastards. That boy never did anything to deserve this.” Jim went to the secret drawer under his desk, flipped a switch, and his Colt 45 dropped into his outstretched hand. “I’m going to kill them myself, the greedy son of a bitches.”
Clyde held up his hand. “Now, hold on there, Jim. Don’t go off half-cocked. You know those damn Albanians are a bloody lot. I don’t know why you keep getting mixed up with them. They’re animals.” He pointed to poor Hiram on the floor. “And that proves it. You should arrange to give them the damn weapons back before you get killed and then lay low until everything cools down.”
“I have a guy who promised to pay me, and pay me well, for that shipment and I broke every gun law on the books to get. He’s been injured, but I’m sure someone is going to come through with the money.”
“Who is he?”
“He said his name was Zareeb El Hashem.”
Clyde stepped back. “Holy shit, man. You’re selling those weapons to a bunch of terrorists?”
