Wow, Tess is really seething. She looks straight at me this time, her teeth clenched.
“I thought maybe you could advise me. I’m all against violence. Then reality slaps me upside the head and all I can think of resorting to is violence. Lora called me again last night.
“It’s escalating?”
“The little girl’s Father began making threatening phone calls. Lora’s a single Mom and her ex-husband lives in Arizona, hence my Mom moving in with her when my Dad died. Lora married Chuck when they were both eighteen and right out of high school. She was pregnant with Alice. The happy couple moved in with us while they attended college together. With my Mom babysitting Alice, while helping Lora and Chuck financially, Lora forged her way through college in spite of Chuck’s protests and their moving around. They’re still friends and Alice spends summers with her Dad, but he can’t really do much with a situation like this.”
“And I can?”
“Forget I mentioned it.”
Tess stood up. She started down my porch steps. I guess I’m supposed to stop her while pleading for a chance to help with her sister’s domestic dispute. I don’t stop her because I got nothing. I’m pretty imaginative when it comes to unintended consequences. All the outcomes I could think of ended in my mind with me in jail at a time when being locked up was the last thing on earth I needed. Tess stopped, turned around, hitched up her skirt and attacked me. I held my coffee cup out as Tess jumped me, legs encircling my waist and hands applying a choke hold at my neck. To my credit, I didn’t spill any coffee.
“You… are… so… annoying!” When Tess realizes her assault is only getting an interested smile from me, she collapses with a sigh, head on my shoulder. “Please, John, help me with this.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help but I’m not sure how. What little I know about these tussles between parents and kids is they get out of hand so quick the situation almost always ends badly. I read about parents and coaches of little leaguers trading punches over some imaginary slight all the time.” I run my fingers down Tess’s cheek. “Maybe a meeting with the school principal, the parents, and the kids would help. I’m having a hard time picturing this other girl’s parents being thrilled that she’s threatening another child’s life. They’d be already talking about drugging or doing a lobotomy on a boy saying those things in this day and age.”
Tess looked up with a smile. “Would you go to the meeting?”
Oh crap.
“Think about it, John. You look like Godzilla… even in a suit. The parents will take one look at you and stifle their kid until she’s eighteen.”
I’m having a stare down with her from a few inches away to no avail. “Okay. Set up the meeting. I’ll go.”
“It’s tomorrow afternoon at three.”
Tess tried to make good her escape but she wasn’t going anywhere as I clamped onto her. I’d been had like a ten-year-old boy at the carnival throwing balls at milk bottles to win a stuffed animal. She squealed in protest as I picked her up and headed for the door. It was time for some more negotiating. Our business dealings go so well, Tess unexpectedly agrees to an overnighter. We spend a quiet Sunday together. Jafar keeps to himself during our visitation and goes out again for the day.
Tess leaves later when my new housemate Jafar comes home. He and Tess exchange smiles while chatting politely about their day. Watching the polite banter, I’m enjoying the afterglow of a pretty decent day. Even my ribs have stopped aching. Tess comes over and gives me a quick peck on the cheek goodbye.
“Wear your suit tomorrow, John. You’ll really be a model citizen on Monday. First you get Jafar back in the high school’s good graces and later you handle elementary school problems. I’ll pick you up at two. Okay?”
“Yes, Princess.”
“Don’t stiff me.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting your sister and her little girl. This meeting is a good idea. I’m sure the whole thing will be settled in minutes. It’s eight-year-olds for God’s sake. My only concern was trying to handle this outside of an official setting.”
“I feel better having you there. Bye, Jafar.”
“Goodnight, Ms. Connagher.”
Jafar waits until Tess shuts my door behind her before confronting me like an excited kid.
“I have heard and seen much about your Friday night fight, John Harding. You nearly killed the big man! Oh… and his nose… that knee was devastating.”
What the hell? “How do you know anything about the fight, J?”
Jafar patted his laptop bag. “YouTube.”
“You’re kidding me? Somebody put an Oakland street fight on that goofy Internet looky-loo place?”
“Yes. Have you not heard of all Kimbo Slice’s backstreet fights shown on YouTube?”
“If I go on the Internet, I don’t tune in on YouTube.”
“Your fight already has over 500,000 views.”
There’s some good news. Maybe getting out of the fight game is a better idea than I thought. So much for anonymity. “You didn’t happen to check out if any more of my fights are on the tube did you?”
Jafar’s smile diminished when he saw my face. “Yes, there were many. I… I watched them all while waiting for my Mom to finish shopping. I showed her the one from last night. Is… is something wrong. You are very famous.”
I patted his shoulder. “Forget it, J. It’s not your fault. I never gave my alley tussles winding up on an Internet site checked by millions a thought before. I do remember other guys talking about street rumbles like Slice’s being watched on YouTube.”
“The mixed martial arts match in which your opponent died is on there too.”
Oh wonderful. You can bet Dennis the Menace Strobert knows about the stuff on YouTube. It makes me wonder what Dennis… oh shit… I race over to the table and grab up my super spy phone and call The Warehouse Bar. Marla answers which I think is a break for me.
“Marla, it’s John. Don’t let the security tape with me mixing it up with those Russian goons get out, okay?”
Dead silence. Ah oh. “Marla?”
“I…I’m sorry, John.”
“YouTube?”
More silence.
What’s done is done. “Can you get it off the site?”
“I can with what I put on, but it went viral in hours. Once it’s in the public domain getting it back off is nearly impossible because so many people copy and distribute it. You know what viral means, right?”
“Yeah, Marla. Okay, don’t sweat it. It’s my bad.”
“Sorry, John.”
“Take care, I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll buy you a few on the house.”
Jafar looks at me uneasily as I set the phone down. “You fought with some Russians, Sir?”
“It’s on YouTube too.” I will have to rethink a whole lot of things. One thing I was sure of – Dennis knew of my notoriety and he had something in mind to exploit it. “Dig out your notebook computer and let’s find the fight outside The Warehouse Bar.”
Jafar quickly dug his computer out and within minutes he was using the various search engines to find the video using variations of my name and The Warehouse Bar. We were watching the clip a short time after that. I breathed a sigh of relief. Marla’s video was so grainy no one could be identified, especially the Russians. Marla screwed me a little with the title though – John Harding Entertains at the Warehouse Bar. Cute. Jafar shows me a few of my fights on You-Tube. They were done with high grade, low light cameras. The videos were very clear.
“Thanks, J. You can turn it off. At least the one with my Russian friends is nearly useless for identifying anyone. There’s no sound on it either.”
“That looked very dangerous, Sir.”
“It was for them. You didn’t do anything wrong. If you hadn’t picked up on the YouTube videos I would have probably been surprised by someone about it at a bad time. This way I know they’re out there. I’m an idiot for not keeping up on this stuff.” The l
ast few days have been far too interesting. With the Twilight Zone school meeting tomorrow afternoon, followed by the beginning of my assignment protecting Samira, my life didn’t look like it was going to ease up any.
“Are you still interested in my help on your escort mission?”
“You’re my key player, J. I will be the big, dumb, well dressed bodyguard while you will be the escort/interpreter. The attention you draw away from me will make what my employers have in mind that much easier. I want to show you something.” Time to let Jafar see the real danger. I picked up my 007 phone, turning it for him to see, when I had the assassin’s mug on the screen scanned from the disc Dennis had given me after the fight. I also showed him the variations of looks he might use. “I’ll give you a printout to study. I don’t want you carrying anything on you or your cell-phone about this guy. He’d kill you without blinking an eye. If you see him anywhere we go let me know in an unobtrusive manner. Don’t point. Don’t look. Just tell me.”
Jafar took the phone and studied the different looks for a few moments. He returned the phone. “What is his name?”
“No names. His real name or aliases will do you no good. He’s my problem. Your gig is to be a charming companion for our visiting young lady.”
“What… what if she doesn’t like me?”
“Look, my friend, you’re not marrying Samira. Speak politely with her about anything she wishes to converse with you about.”
“Do you know her?”
“A long time ago me and a few other guys helped her family relocate to Saudi Arabia from Afghanistan. She was eleven then and I haven’t seen or heard from her since. Samira grew up in a warzone living with stone-age type amenities. Don’t try to impress her.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t lie well at all and I’m short on things I could impress her with in reality.”
“We’ll work on that.”
Jafar silently gave me the thousand yard stare for a moment.
“You need not answer this. Are you some kind of spy?”
“Not really. I’m more of a problem solver. I don’t spy on anybody. If I was a spy would I be dumb enough to become a YouTube attraction?”
Jafar laughed and shook his head. “No. I think you would be more discreet. Does Ms. Connagher know of your celebrity?”
“No, and she doesn’t need to find out from you, wise-guy. I’m going to work out. Want to join me for a few more tips on how not to get your ass kicked?”
“I think that would be helpful.”
Jafar and I worked out for an hour. He learned and he didn’t forget. I showed him a few knife techniques to practice on along with his hand to hand combat lesson. My muscles loosened up, but by the time we were done, my ribs were howling. While we were in the kitchen microwaving a couple meals my phone rang. It was Dennis. I took the phone out of the room with a little wave at Jafar.
“Everything’s ready, John. We have a special limo and I have Devon Constantine’s chauffer license to drive it. He drove tanks at one time so I’m sure he’ll be okay with the limo. I had one made up for both your friend Tommy and this Jafar kid you’re breaking in. By the way, Jafar is a real interesting find. We’ll have Ms. Karim at The Inn by seven that evening. I figured you’d like to meet us there with Kensington.”
“When’s the first public speaking engagement?”
“The Alameda County Fairgrounds. The Fremont Afghan Center organizes a New Year’s celebration there that’s attended by ten thousand. It will be next Sunday. I’m hoping I can persuade our guest to keep a low profile until then.”
“You don’t need me for this. You need Superman. Get a line to Krypton and see if he’s available. If not, maybe Jack Bauer’s free. I heard Superman wears Jack Bauer pajamas.”
I smile as I hear Dennis laughing his ass off. He finally gets it under control down to a mild chortle.
“I saw your throw down with the Russians, John.”
“I just found out about my YouTube notoriety today but I’ll bet you’ve known for quite a while, Denny. Any comment?”
“Have you heard about the Abu Dhabi’s Flash Entertainment buying a ten percent piece of Ultimate Fighting Championship?”
“UFC 112 was held in the United Arab Emirates. So what?” It was a good match.
“That’s right and what would you wager no one there would look at you with more than a glance.”
Oh boy, am I slow on the uptake. “You do know I was banned from the circuit and they don’t just take anyone to these UFC events, don’t you? You have to earn a place on the ticket.”
“I think we can manage something on the undercard if need be. You have many videos to lure them into taking you on. The fight with Rankin will seal the deal. Every fighter has a trainer and corner help. Tommy, Devon, and the new Arab speaking kid would be a perfect training crew. There are always some very hard elements moving through Abu Dhabi, John. One of these UFC things might take place over there with an added bonus of having a high value person of interest also attending at the same time. It would be a fortuitous occasion.”
That’s twice today I’m surprised – not a good sign. I certainly see many pluses for Denny and the gang. Finding a way into the UFC would be a hell of an advertisement for my new business. Getting caught in a place like Abu Dhabi or Dubai doing wet work on the other hand – not so much, especially with my friends along for the ride into hell. Dennis chuckles at my silence.
“No need for you to sign on in blood right now. Think it over. I must say, John, it is rather shocking you had no idea any of your rumbles were being videoed. Take this as a warning to start smelling the roses, buddy.”
“Bite me. You like my new recruit. What do you think about vetting him for something more substantial in the future?”
“Like bringing him up to speed as your technical consultant, you Luddite?”
“Something like that.”
“John, you were one of the most promising hacker candidates we ever had go through our classes. You can work code with nearly magical intuitiveness. What is all this crap with you not answering phones or even watching your own fights on the Internet?”
“You hit it right on the button. After seeing what you guys have going in all its glory, I’m knowledgeable in exactly how to avoid you if I want to. The rest is about as interesting to me as watching grass grow. I keep my skills up in tech stuff just like I do with languages.”
Dennis laughed again. “That’s why you own that old Chevy! I bet you still sweep it for bugs anyway, don’t you?”
“At least you can’t shut it off on me from space.”
“Duly noted. Have you decided anything about the Russian mob after your run in with them last night? Hell of an encounter by the way. On that particular YouTube adventure I’m glad the video was grainy.”
“I’m staying the hell away from them. If they know what’s good for them they’ll stay the hell away from me.”
“Send me their names. I’ll do a little digging and run some surveillance for you.”
“Thanks, I will.” I don’t do this Lone Ranger shit to the point of stupidity. “You won’t get into trouble with the other three letter government group, will you?”
“We’re all one big happy family now.”
“I’ll bet. See you tomorrow.”
Jafar has our instant dinners on the table with suitable utensils. The kid looks up at me questioningly when I walk back in the room. At this point with Strobert’s interest in him I’m inclined to start my recruiting talk. I wasn’t much older than Jafar when CIA expressed an interest in piggy backing onto Marine Recon endeavors in Afghanistan. When the team I was on got ambushed while taking a clandestine look around the Tora Bora area for Osama I managed to outflank our Taliban ambushers. Our CIA liaison, Jackson, a lean bearded guy that hailed from Minnesota, made it up to my position first after I signaled all clear. He took one look at the six dead Taliban, two with their throats slit, and glared at me like maybe I should have asked his permission.
> “It would have been nice to question one of these guys, Harding.”
I shrug. I don’t take prisoners when my buddies are under fire. “Woulda’, coulda’, shoulda’ – write me up.”
By that time, the lieutenant and my fellow grunts made it up to where we were. Two were wounded but still mobile. Lieutenant Bell scans my handiwork with a much more appreciative eye, as do my buddies. We don’t talk much because who the hell knew when we’d have a bunch more religion of peace followers flocking down on us. Our corpsman patches up the wounded while the rest of us take pictures and DNA samples just in case one of the Taliban is famous. We strip the bodies of everything we can carry and throw the carcasses over the cliff afterward. All the while Jackson dogs me. I have enough enemies around so I ignore the looks.
Back at base camp we’re met by two more company men. One of them was a leaner Dennis Strobert. See, I’ve know Denny a long time which would have made me unhappy to have had to gut him the other night. Denny and the other guy listen to Jackson rant in angry whispers while pointing at me. I’m really worried. What are they going to do, send me to Tora Bora? Strobert smiles in my direction. Where Jackson sees me as someone lacking in intelligence gathering abilities, Denny has decided I might be of value in other ways. Strobert recruited me shortly after. I’m seeing a lot of potential in another direction with Jafar.
Chapter Nine
Pseudo-Dad
I sit down and eat in silence, noting Jafar accepts my nonverbal decision without comment. He eats quietly too. I’m liking the kid more and more. When we’re done chowing down I make my pitch.
“I have some people with government ties I’d like to vet you with. If you check out okay it could mean a lot of free education in an assortment of skills. It won’t be a requirement for you to work with me but it could be a valuable opportunity for a lucrative career.”
Cold Blooded Assassin Book 7: Hell on Earth (Nick McCarty Assassin) Page 43
