by Brad Taylor
The guard exited the room.
She waited, feeling the sweat build on her face and drip down into the light. Her earpiece came to life, Pike asking for a status. She said nothing. When she was sure the guard was gone, she slid down the rope, reaching the mats. She exited the room and duckwalked to the hallway, seeing the light bouncing in the free-weight area. In between her and the stairs.
Now what?
She saw the main doorway and considered. Get him back in this section and just exit. Right out the front door. She knew it automatically locked, with the patrons having to push a button to the left to release it, but it wouldn’t be alarmed because the guard himself had to use it to come and go. Why pay a guard to sit in front of the door if you were going to place an alarm on it? And she’d seen no alarm leads on the roof door, a much better place to put them if you had hired a guard for the front.
The idea was risky, and she began to second-guess her ability to execute it, fearing what would happen if she committed. She was going to be caught inside. Arrested for breaking and entering and made a fool for all to see.
You don’t have any other choice.
Whatever she did, the man was going to hear her, and trying to race down the outside climbing wall with a guard chasing her was asking to get caught. He could simply run down the stairs and wait until she reached the bottom.
She keyed her Bluetooth, “Pike, I’m coming out the front. I’m playing cat and mouse right now.”
“What do you want me to do? You want a diversion?”
“No, no. I’m going to do that in here. I just need you out front, because I’m going to be running.”
She heard nothing for a moment, then, “Roger all.” Cool as ice, as if he were ordering pizza. Asshole.
In truth, the words brought her off the ledge and gave her confidence precisely because he was so calm. As if he expected her to succeed.
She reentered the acrobatics room and picked up the chalk block that gymnasts used on their hands. She crept back to the end of the hall and waited until she saw the flashlight. It had moved closer, coming back her way. She heaved the block over the light, hearing it smash into a piece of equipment. The light whipped in the direction of the noise and illuminated the plume of shattered chalk like a column of smoke. The guard swore and began running to investigate.
She sprinted behind him, running around the front desk to the door. She hit the exit button and the door buzzed. She heard the guard shout and broke into the parking lot. She began running full out, looking over her shoulder and seeing the light bouncing up and down in chase. She reached the front road just as Pike pulled up. She ripped open the door, jumping inside with Pike pulling away while it was still open.
She slammed it shut, panting from the run and adrenaline itself.
Pike said, “It might have been easier just to hire a couple of hookers for the sex tape.”
Chapter 6
Jennifer felt her face turn red, both from watching the video and from the fact that she’d hidden the camera. In effect, violating the privacy of two women doing the most intimate things.
She’d gone back to the gym earlier in the day, and the woman with the cross was already there. She’d stepped onto a treadmill and waited, doing a slow jog until the wife entered. She saw the woman with the cross go to the locker room, then the wife. At the time she’d felt apprehension that the camera wouldn’t activate. Now she felt shame at what she’d done.
She watched the wife arch her back and could take no more. She reached forward to turn off the monitor and Pike slapped her hand away.
“No, no. We need to make sure. They could be faking it. Maybe they know the camera’s inside and they’re just really dedicated terrorists.”
She glared at him and turned it off.
He said, “Well, looks like ‘I told you so’ time.”
She said, “I don’t want them to see the tape. Just tell them. It’s not fair to the women.”
“Fine by me. That way it’s still virgin for posting on the Internet. You know how much money we could get for pay-per-view?”
“Pike, that’s not funny. At all. I feel like I need a shower after watching it.”
“Really?”
“Pike!”
He saw he’d pushed past her limit and raised his hands. “Okay, okay. Just kidding. You have to admit this whole mission is full of jokes ripe for the picking. MILFs, lesbians. What the hell is next?”
“I don’t see a joke. I just see a tragedy if this tape gets out, and I know you guys would have it copied and in every team room in minutes. I feel like a sleazy Peeping Tom for rigging that sauna.”
“Hey,” Pike said. “You were following your instinct and it had to be done. Better to watch a tape than watch them take down the woman, dragging the wife into it. By the time Johnny had figured out it was the wrong lead, it wouldn’t matter. They’d both probably be exposed. Look at it that way.”
She didn’t reply. He said, “You want to call or you want me to do it?”
“You. That asshole won’t listen to me.”
He nodded and said, “I’ll put it on speaker.”
He dialed and set the phone on the table next to the monitor. Johnny’s voice came on, the encryption making it sound tinny, as if it was coming through a tube.
“What’s up, Pike? I thought you were headed home.”
“We were, but we investigated a little further. Jennifer’s instinct was correct. Those two aren’t terrorists. They’re adulterers. Of the same-sex type.”
“What’s that mean? What did you do?”
She held her breath, wondering if Johnny was going to lose his cool. Pike downplayed the mission, making it seem like the easiest thing in the world, stretching the truth to the breaking point. He ended by saying, “I’ve seen the tape, and it’s real. They spent a little time just talking in the beginning, but it was in Tagalog. The Taskforce is translating the audio, but we won’t have the transcript until later today or tomorrow. Either way, you can save your energy on the MILF with the cross.”
Johnny’s voice came through with controlled anger. “I ought to fucking call Colonel Hale right now. You were not authorized to do that. You might have compromised the whole mission. You are not in charge here.”
“Johnny, come on. The risk was all ours. It wouldn’t have compromised anything, and we wouldn’t have had to do it if you’d have listened to the man on the ground. Don’t turn this into something personal. Just take the information.”
“Fine, but while you were risking a Taskforce cover for no good reason, I got the readout on cross-woman. She’s married to a Muslim man who works for DHL at the Aquino airport. Is this ringing any bells with you? Bayani works at the airport. Bayani is Muslim. Bayani’s wife contacts a woman who’s married to another Muslim who works at the airport. In a freight shipment company. None of Sungkar’s packages went through customs—probably because they were shifted straight to DHL for onward movement. I don’t give a shit what they did in that sauna; I’m on the right track, so why don’t you just pack up and go home. You wasted your time and risked compromise for nothing. We’ll call it even right now because it looks like Jennifer was partially right, but you keep fucking around and I will call Colonel Hale.”
She saw Pike’s face redden and knew he was deeply embarrassed. She started to say something, but he held up a hand, shaking his head.
He said, “Okay, Johnny. Your show.”
“Thanks for letting me take charge.”
Even with the encryption, Jennifer could hear the sarcasm. Johnny hung up.
Pike stood still for a moment, then said, “Pack your stuff. We’re flying home.”
She started to say something, but he shook his head. “Just pack. We were in the wrong. I don’t blame you, because your instincts were right, but we shouldn’t have interfered. It didn’t make a difference in
the end.”
She said, “Okay,” but stood for a moment, checking him. Trying to see how much damage had been done.
She said, “Pike, it was a good call.”
He exhaled, threw a duffel on the bed, and said, “I know. Just go pack, please.”
She hesitated, then said, “You okay?”
He turned from his bag and said, “Jesus, Jennifer, this isn’t a sorority. Yes, I’m fine. Please go pack.”
She left the room. Thirty minutes later she knocked on his door with her bags. He let her in and she said, “Pike, let’s leave tomorrow. After we get the transcript.”
He held the door open and simply stared at her for a moment, then turned from the entrance and said, “Jennifer, you have no idea how embarrassing that was. I made a huge mistake based on wanting you to be right. I wasn’t thinking with the mission. We did the operation they asked. Let’s get out of here while we’re still somewhat ahead.”
She rolled her bags inside his room and gathered her courage. “I know. I’m sorry. Maybe we’re completely wrong on this, but we should—”
“Jennifer, stop. There’s no maybe. Your instincts were correct, but at the end of the day they were also irrelevant. I’ve checked flights out and there’s one leaving at eight. I got us exit rows. It’ll probably be the last bit of comfort I get until I’m stateside.”
He turned to continue packing, and she waited. He threw a couple of shirts in his duffel, then said, “What?”
“Pike, all that information Johnny threw out could very well be exactly what it looks like. A terrorist connection. It’s certainly worth exploring. I’m not saying don’t let Johnny go on, but I was thinking about it while I packed, and it could also be innocent.”
He said, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The big question was how a Catholic upper-class woman had met up with a poor Muslim woman, and the connection Johnny found explains that. Both husbands work at the airport in a city that’s not too favorable to Muslims. The overwhelming majority are Catholic, and they’ve been fighting a war in the south against Muslims forever. The press here is constantly talking about infiltration of terrorists into the Muslim community.”
Pike interrupted. “Jennifer, that’s exactly what Johnny’s team is tracking. You’re talking about his mission right now.”
She let a little aggravation slip out, putting her hands on her hips. She knew Pike would let her continue. He always did. “Can I finish?”
He threw his hands in the air. “Can I stop you?”
She began again as if he hadn’t said a word. “The religion alone would transcend the monetary class. Two Muslims working in the pressure cooker of a security zone would bring them together. They’ve probably been on the end of multiple slights. Maybe this connection is innocent. Maybe it simply explains how the women met. Just because both are Muslim doesn’t mean both are terrorists.”
“Jennifer, come on. You’re grasping at straws.”
“So what? All we have to do is wait on the transcript. See what they said. If it’s terrorist related and confirms Johnny’s theory, I’ll send it to him with my apologies. He’s certainly not going to read it, and it might help the mission.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then we take what we know and work with it. There is no downside. You said you weren’t thinking about the mission before. I’m asking you to do it now.”
He halfheartedly tossed a shirt into his bag. “Shit. Honey badger don’t quit, huh?”
She tried to contain it, but her face split into a smile, knowing she’d won. “No. Honey badger don’t quit.”
Chapter 7
I heard someone knocking on my door at seven A.M. and had no doubt who it was. I thought about ignoring it in the hopes she’d go away, but I knew she knew I was in here, and she’d keep banging away until I answered.
I got out of bed and answered in my T-shirt and boxers, barefoot. I wished I didn’t keep my hair cut so close because I would have liked it to be sticking out all over the place to make a point.
I opened the door midknock. “Did you already set your watch to CONUS time? Or maybe you’re having trouble reading it.”
She brushed past me, saying, “Where’s the computer?”
“On the desk. If that transcript hasn’t arrived and you’ve woken me up for nothing, you’re going to pay.”
She ignored me and sat at the desk, bringing up our secure “company” e-mail. There was one message waiting. She clicked it open, and I read over her shoulder.
OLDER WOMAN: What happened to your face?
YOUNGER WOMAN: It’s nothing. He slapped me. He does that when he’s under stress.
—Garbled. Movement.
YW: I have a plan to get out. Were you serious about me becoming your maid? Will your husband allow that?
OW: Oh yes. I’m very serious. I’ve already set it in motion. My husband suspects our current maid is stealing from us. By the end of the week, he’ll be sure. I’ll have her fired.
YW: Can I come live with you? We didn’t talk about that, but I have a plan. I’m going to need someplace to live.
OW: What plan? What do you mean?
YW: My husband is doing something criminal. I don’t know what it is, but I went to his workshop last night. He was building something. Two packages. When I came in, he screamed at me to leave. That’s when he hit me. He locked them in a cabinet.
OW: And? What are you going to do?
YW: He’s leaving tomorrow. Going to visit family in Mindanao. After he’s gone, I’m going to call the police and have them break into the cabinet. Whatever is in there is bad. They’ll arrest him when he comes home—and I’ll be free.
OW: Are you sure?
YW: Only if you want me to come live with you. I can’t stay at that house. His family will come for me.
OW: [Garbled.] Yes. [Garbled.]
—Moan. Movement. Garbled.
The rest of the transcript consisted of the word moan or garbled, with an occasional yes thrown in. I couldn’t believe the analysts actually put every sound on the page. Perverts.
A little surprised, Jennifer said, “I’m right, aren’t I? They don’t have anything to do with terrorism. She’s going to sic the police on her husband.”
“Looks that way.”
“What do you want to do now? Call Johnny?”
I thought about it. He was pretty damn pissed and wouldn’t really listen to anything we had to say at this stage. It would be better to just send him the transcript and my analysis in a flash message. He’d have to read it because of the priority, and after he got over the aggravation that I’d sent it, he’d do what was right. The main point was to let him know his original anchor was about to be arrested. That would throw a wrench into things for sure.
“I’ll shoot him a flash. He’ll do the right thing with it. Then, when we see him again, you can ask for your case of beer for being correct. Go ahead and pack your stuff. Since you got me up, maybe we can catch an early flight.”
She nodded and stood up from the computer. Before she reached the door I said, “Jennifer.”
“Yeah?”
“That was some good work. Don’t think it wasn’t noticed.”
“That’s not why I did it.”
“I know. But if there’s only one exit row, I’ll let you have it.”
She smiled and left the room. I completed the message for Johnny and sent it, then went to our travel website. I found a Delta flight leaving at ten A.M. By the time I’d packed, she was back with her luggage.
We checked out and began driving to the airport. I had just accessed the Luzon Expressway, minutes away from the terminal, when Jennifer said, “Hey, why don’t we swing by Bayani’s house? Just to see what’s going on. It’s on the way.”
What the hell?
“Jen
nifer, it’s not on the way. It’s farther down the expressway, away from the airport. Why?”
“I was just thinking about what the wife said. About Bayani leaving today. Maybe it’s nothing, but worst case we can send an update to Johnny about what we find. That transcript said she was going to call the police today.”
“I don’t even know how to get there.”
She pulled out her GPS and said, “I’ve already got it programmed.” I rolled my eyes while the device locked on to the satellites. When it did, she said, “It’s just another seven minutes.”
I saw the runways of Aquino International Airport off to my right and said, “We’re going to miss our flight.”
“So we catch another one. Next exit.”
I swore under my breath but did as she asked. We wove around the streets, the township growing more decrepit, with houses made out of cheap tin, some looking like they actually used flattened beer cans.
We passed the Blue Mosque and I knew we were close. It was the only one in Maharlika village, and one of the oldest in the city. I remembered Johnny saying Bayani lived nearby.
Three minutes later, we didn’t need the GPS. The road was crammed with police cars, some with lights turning. A policeman stopped us but gave out no information. Jennifer pointed down the road, and I saw the wife standing in front of a shanty, hands in her face, crying.
I pulled around and parked outside the police perimeter, thinking about how I could get some information. Just outside the line of cops I saw a man with two cameras draped around his neck holding a notebook.
Reporter.
“Jennifer, see that guy over there? The one with the cameras?”
“Yes.”
“Go work your female charms on him. See if he’ll tell you what he knows.”
She exited without a word, jogging toward the man. I saw them talk for a couple of minutes, and she came jogging back.
“Well, I found out why the wife was crying.”
