Jessie nodded. “Definitively. The look he gave me, I could feel it.”
“Maybe you’re right, but he’s not about to tell us.”
While Liam was trying to back his car out of its parking space, a task complicated by a delivery truck partially blocking his exit, Jessie absentmindedly observed the cleric walking toward Pine Island Rd. He hadn’t gone half a block, when a black SUV pulled away from the curb and trailed him at a very slow speed.
“I’ll be damned!” Jessie exclaimed.
Liam slammed on the brakes. “What is it?”
“He’s being followed. Watch that SUV trailing him. Let’s see what happens,” Jessie said.
They sat and waited.
“He did mention that the FBI questioned him,” Jessie said.
“From the way he’s dragging his feet, I would say he knows they’re tailing him.”
At the bus stop on the corner, the cleric took a seat on the bench, his eyes fixed straight ahead. The SUV pulled over and parked on the curb a mere hundred feet away from him.
Ten minutes later, a bus pulled up. El-Amin got on and the bus took off with the SUV right behind it.
Jessie shook her head. “It’s amazing. They don’t even try to be subtle about it.”
“Maybe they’re doing it on purpose,” Liam ventured.
“Why?”
“They want him to feel the pressure. If he knows anything at all, they may think they can intimidate him,” Liam said.
The delivery truck was gone and Liam pulled out and drove away.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“Would you like to see the Wildlife Center?”
He grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Right after lunch his father called. He was angry, shouting at him in Farsi. “What have you done, Nasir? Bringing shame to our family, like your mother’s brother Haji?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked calmly.
“The FBI, they are looking for you.”
He winced. “They came to the house?”
“This morning. You are a disgrace. Your mother is sick from crying. What have you done?”
“I have to go. I will call you later.”
He disconnected abruptly, his heart thumping in his chest. How did they trace him? Then he realized. Yes, of course, the security cameras at the airport captured Thomas’s theft. And at the same time, they also captured him chasing the thief. But how did they get his name?
They must have gone through all the names on the flight. Process of elimination. And what about the arrest years ago? He was a juvenile then. It was supposed to have been wiped clean. Of course, cops could still have access to those records. More likely it was enough to bring him under scrutiny. Standing in the reception area, he nervously scanned the parking lot. Could they be here already? Several cars were parked in front of the shop, none of them occupied and there was no foot traffic on the sidewalk, at least none he could see from his post.
The sound of the back door opening startled him and he rushed into the office. Two of his men were coming in. He shouted at them. “Abdul, Jamal.”
They frowned at the urgency in his voice.
“We have to get out, right now. We’re moving everything into the other building. We have to hurry. The FBI was at my house this morning. I don’t know how much time we have left before they show up here. Abdul, back the truck up to the rear door. Jamal, pull all the paperwork from the file cabinets and put it into garbage bags.”
The two men stared at him, a look of surprise on their faces.
“Come on, now. Let’s go!” he yelled irritably.
They set off to follow his orders. While they were busy, he dumped the contents of the safe into a backpack, and they loaded everything onto the truck. Within ten minutes the two men were pulling out and Hakim was walking to his car. Suddenly, he stopped.
“Wait,” he shouted.
Jamal slammed on the brakes and frowned. “What is it?”
“They can trace my car. We have to get rid of it,” Hakim snapped.
“Let’s torch it,” Jamal suggested.
Hakim shook his head impatiently.
“No, no, I don’t want to draw attention. I know a place out west. No one ever goes out there, except gator hunters. Follow me.”
They drove away. Hakim’s mind was racing the whole time. He should have anticipated the FBI would go over the airport film with a fine-toothed comb, looking for anything or anyone associated with the courier. Well, at least they would never be able to link him to the lab building. His uncle had arranged for foreign ownership and his name was nowhere to be found on the paperwork. Same with the old pickup. Purchased with cash and registered to a small business in Canada.
Now, he would have to be more cautious than ever to prepare for the attack. They were looking for him, and although this was an unexpected obstacle, he was determined to see it through, even more so, actually.
His hatred for this nation and its populace was growing deeper by the day. It ate at him, leaving a nasty taste of bile in his mouth. All those years when he had to contend with their snide superiority and see the barely veiled contempt in their eyes, just because he was Muslim, and his skin was darker than theirs. And struggling to keep quiet while they talked about murdering his brother jihadists. He sneered. Before he was done, they would find out what a real killing field looked like, and he would derive the utmost satisfaction in knowing many of them would die in agony.
Traffic moved at a snail’s pace and he could hardly contain his impatience. They were slowly inching their way west on Griffin Road when the strident sound of sirens burst into the air. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed two police cars, lights flashing, weaving through traffic, racing in his direction. Vehicles pulled to the side of the road to get out of their way, and Hakim realized they would be right behind him shortly. He had to make a decision. Make a run for it or pull over? He glanced at the mirror again. Abdul and Jamal were still following him closely, waiting for him to make a move. Then the car in front of him drove onto the shoulder of the road and he did the same. As he came to a stop, he reached for the gun under his seat and wedged it next to his hip. His mind was made up. He would take down as many cops as he could. Determined, he gripped the handle of the gun. Inshallah, God willing, he was ready to die a martyr.
In the next moment, the police cars flew by at top speed, their momentum shaking his vehicle. A tinge of regret faded away quickly. After all, he had a much bigger mission ahead of him. He put the gun back under the seat and drove onto the road. Another look in the mirror confirmed Jamal did the same. The traffic didn’t let up until they reached the western part of the county. After a few more miles, he finally spotted the dirt road he was looking for.
Years ago, he came here with a group of teenage boys seeking mischief. It was a time when he was still trying to fit in, be like the other kids in school. So he reluctantly joined them on their escapade, observing quietly while they smoked pot and drank beer on the edge of this deep canal snaking through the Everglades. Before long they were high as kites and one of them started a fight. Hakim tried to break it up. Someone had a knife. Next thing you know, blood was running down his chin and his neck.
Instinctively, he touched the scar on his cheek, a permanent reminder of that night. Looking back, he sneered, recalling how those fools thought they were invincible, splashing in the water while the bulging eyes of gators glowed eerily in the dark. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He shook his head. He never belonged with them and now, he wished he hadn’t abased himself to their level. If he had the opportunity today, he would squash them all, like the nasty cockroaches they were.
As they moved on, grasses got higher, choking part of the trail, slowing them down. Twice he had to stop and remove tree limbs blocking the way. It didn’t bother him as it assured him no one came this way recently. A few miles later, they pulled up to the right spot. The rope the boys had used bac
k then, to swing into the water, still dangled from the big old oak tree on the bank. It was frayed and dirty now. He parked on the rise at the edge of the canal, and got out. Just a couple of feet away was a steep drop into the water.
Satisfied, he motioned for the men to get out of the truck.
“Right here,” he said pointing down at the water covered with a layer of dark green algae.
“Is it deep enough?” Jamal wondered.
“Deep enough for gators and unwanted cars,” Hakim said bluntly.
Reaching in the driver’s side window, he put the gear in neutral. The three men got behind the vehicle and gave it a couple of good shoves. With little effort, it toppled over the ledge and headed straight down into the canal. As the water swallowed the car, it gurgled a few times, then within seconds, it was gone. Standing under the glaring sun, sweat running down their foreheads, they stared at the water, waiting, as if it would suddenly pop back up. The shriek of a black bird swooping down over their head brought them out of their trance.
“Let’s get out of here,” Hakim mumbled.
They squeezed into the cab of the truck and drove away. On the way back, the newspaper woman popped into his mind. With all the work and preparations at the building, he had neglected to keep up his surveillance on her. She was the only link to Thomas and therefore, the only link to the diamonds. And now more than ever they needed them to continue with their plan. He had to start tailing her again. The very last time he followed her, she didn’t come home for the night. He suspected she had spent the night with the man she met. It angered him, but he had to let it go. Abdul brought him back to reality when he mentioned his father had bought a new car and wanted to sell the old one.
“What kind is it?” Hakim asked.
“A Chevy Malibu, the air conditioning will freeze your ass off and the tires are brand new. It’s in great shape.”
“Skip the sales pitch, Abdul, how much?”
Abdul shrugged. “It’s only ten years old. Five thousand maybe?”
Hakim scoffed. “You’re out of your mind. Tell him I’ll pay two thousand.”
Abdul gave him a wounded look. “All right. I don’t think he’ll like it.”
Hakim knew he could probably drive the pickup, but frankly, it was a rough ride and he didn’t particularly care for it. They pulled up to the building. Hakim went in, and the other two men started unloading the truck.
Seated at the table in the main room, Mohamed Salem was cleaning his weapon. Sporting a full beard and short cropped hair, he was lean and dark. It took four years of his life, and two tours in Afghanistan, to bring him at odds with the military. When he first met Hakim, he told him what he witnessed over there made him sick, and how he hated the way the Westerners treated Afghans.
Bitter and disillusioned, he got out, just barely avoiding getting kicked out for insubordination. He drifted all over the country for a while, working in construction and other odd jobs. He never found what he was seeking in his travels, so he came back to his home state of Florida and settled in Broward County. There he started attending the mosque and after a few months, he shared his feelings with the Imam who introduced him to Hakim. Finally, he had an outlet for his anger toward a country intent on destroying Islam and overtaking the Middle East. The U.S. might be where he was born, but it would never be his country.
A man of few words, he nodded briefly at Hakim then went back to his task. Hakim liked him, knowing he could count on him, no matter what. He went upstairs and peered into the lab. It hadn’t been easy. Construction was finally completed and it was ready to become operational. Although it was a satisfying sight, it also was a painful reminder he still didn’t have the diamonds to continue with their plan. With the deadline just weeks away, and without the chemicals for the sarin or the scientist to make it, it was only a pipe dream.
Reluctantly, he went to his office, got a phone out of his desk drawer and dialed Abboud’s number. Once again, he had bad news. Having to vacate the computer store was a minor glitch. On the other hand, the fact the FBI knew about him could become a problem. His uncle listened attentively as he went over everything once again and Hakim sensed the anger coursing through the man’s veins.
“What about the Thomas child?” Abboud asked, after an agonizing silence.
“The girl?”
“Yes, of course. It is my experience children often observe more than you know.”
“It’s possible, but she’s only about five or six years old,” Hakim said.
“That is of no importance, Nasir. She still might know something. You have to get to her.”
“I will find a way to get her.”
“Stop wasting time, make a move now. Get her and question her. Then get rid of her,” Abboud ordered.
Hakim brought up the scientist. “Yes, uncle. And what about our package?”
“It will be there in the next few days. Is everything ready?”
“We’re all set,” he affirmed.
“Then let’s hope you get the goods before it’s too late,” Abboud snapped before hanging up.
Hakim turned to find Abdul standing next to him. “What?”
“The Malibu?” Abdul said.
“Yes, yes. Did you talk to your father?”
Abdul grinned. “Good news. He said he would take three thousand.”
Hakim scoffed. “I said two thousand. Tell him take it or leave it.”
Abdul looked dejected. “He’ll take it.”
“Good. Have Jamal drive you there to pick it up.”
“And the money?”
Hakim retrieved the backpack from his closet and dumped the money on his desk. He was counting out two thousand dollars when he glanced up. Abdul stood in the doorway, transfixed by the pile of money. Their eyes met. Hakim held his gaze until Abdul squirmed and looked away. Hakim continued counting, gave him the money and put the rest back in the closet.
Later, lying in bed on his back, he stared up at the open rafters. He wondered how far he could trust Abdul. He hadn’t noticed it before, yet today, it was greed he spotted in the man’s eyes, and it could spell trouble for their operation.
Of the three men he had recruited, Abdul was the one he wasn’t sure about. The son of an older Lebanese couple, he grew up spoiled, lazy, and lacking direction. Got in trouble with the law a couple of times, carjacking at fifteen, burglary at sixteen. Both instances were wiped off his record as a juvenile. Now at twenty-one, he wanted to join the war on the infidels, make a name for himself. Hakim took him on reluctantly, hoping he could shape him into a jihadist. He still had his doubts. For right now, he would put them aside. He considered Abboud’s orders. Tomorrow was Sunday and with any luck, the reporter would go get the child. If so, he would be ready and if the girl knew anything at all, he was going to find out. Yes, hopefully it would be a day of success. InshAllah!
Chapter Twenty-Three
With the morning sky bloated with rain clouds, Jessie thought it would be a good day to take Lilly to the movies. She called Annabelle and they agreed on a one o’clock pick up time. She had barely put down the phone, when Liam called.
“Is your date book full for the day?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m booked all through the afternoon. My date and I are seeing a new movie, and I can’t wait.”
“Who’s the fortunate fellow?” Liam asked.
“Actually, it’s a she,” Jessie answered.
“Aha! Let me guess, little Miss Lilly?”
“You guessed right,” she said.
“Lucky girl.”
“I’ll call you later, maybe we can catch a bite out this evening.”
“Yeah, I really miss you,” Liam said.
Jessie laughed. “We saw each other yesterday.”
“And I’d love to see you every day,” he said softly.
“Here you go, going all mushy on me.”
“Mush is my forte,” he said.
“I noticed.”
It was his turn to laugh.
“See you later then.”
When she pulled into Annabelle’s driveway a few minutes early, Lilly was already glued to the front window, anxiously waiting for her arrival. As soon as she spotted her, the child’s eyes grew wide with excitement. Seeing her bright little face, so full of eagerness and energy, nearly made her heart melt. She smiled and waved at her, then ran inside, grabbed her in her arms, twirled her around while Lilly shrieked in delight.
The movie was everything they hoped for—drama, laughter, tears and, of course, all of it ending on a happy note. It was a children’s movie, after all. After a couple of hours sitting in the dark, sharing a container of popcorn and two candy bars, Jessie decided they needed some fresh air. The rain had come and gone while they were in the theater, and a bright sunshine greeted them when they stepped outside.
She squeezed Lillian’s hand and smiled. “Want to go for a walk?”
The child nodded enthusiastically. “Can we go to Smalley Park?”
Jessie remembered the park. She had been there once for a birthday party. It was on the other side of town. She raised her eyebrows. “You know the park?”
The little girl nodded again. “Daddy takes me there sometimes.”
Sadness tugged at Jessie’s heart. “Well then, that settles it. Smalley Park it is.”
After a forty-minute drive, they pulled into the parking lot. Only one other car occupied a spot. They stepped around the puddles and stopped at the playground, where a young father was pushing a toddler on a swing.
Lilly used the slide for a while then pulled Jessie away toward the duck pond.
“Oh no,” Lilly said, stopping in her tracts.
Jessie was alarmed. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”
“Mommy duck only has two baby ducks left now.”
“How many did she have before?”
“When Daddy and I came here, she had six babies. They were really cute.”
“Maybe the others grew up, moved away to have their own families, and now Mommy has a couple of new babies. Do you remember how long ago it was when you came here with your dad?’’
“Right before the police took him away.”
Diamond Lilly Page 17
