Diamond Lilly

by Henriette Daulton

  Blaring music assaulted his every sense. His eyes adjusted to his surroundings and he spotted a naked young woman slowly gyrating on a stripper pole. While she started swaying faster to keep up with the tempo of the music, her pale face withheld any trace of emotion. A few customers sat at tables in front of the stage. They followed her routine with slack jaws. A couple of men leaned on a bar nearby nursing their drinks. The bartender glanced at him briefly. No one else paid attention to his entrance. Hakim stood waiting, wondering what to do next, when a young man with the shoulders of someone who devoted his life to the gym appeared out of nowhere. He stopped in front of Hakim and eyed him silently.

  “Ivan is expecting me,” Hakim said, not sure the man would hear him over the din of the music. He nodded, turned on his heels, and Hakim followed him down a narrow corridor. At the end, he led him into a drab windowless room.

  “Wait here,” he said before disappearing.

  Hakim glanced around. There was very little furniture in the office besides a weathered wooden desk and a couple of chairs with stained seats. A large safe in the corner briefly caught his attention before his eyes landed on a storage tank and a stack of boxes nudged against a wall. The top box was open, and partially visible was a yellow hazmat suit. His clenched jaw relaxed. This was part of his order, and he was ready to talk business. He sat in one of the chairs and waited. Ten minutes went by and no one showed up. Irritated, Hakim considered returning to the bar when a door he hadn’t noticed previously was thrown open. A burly man with a bare torso and a tattoo of a bear on his shoulder entered the office. On the way to his desk, he zipped up his fly and glanced at Hakim with a sly grin. His eyes appeared glazed over and Hakim wondered if he was drunk. “Ivan Zherdev?” he asked.

  “Da. You bring my package today?”

  Hakim nodded. “And you have a list of items for me. Are they ready?”

  The man plopped down into his chair and groaned.

  “Did you get everything we requested?” Hakim said impatiently.

  Zherdev nodded. “Of course. Except for one chemical substitute.”

  Hakim frowned, and Zherdev waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry, it works the same. Original is no longer available in America.”

  “Are you sure?”

  The Russian sneered. “Government think they smart. They don’t know, what is this called again?” He tapped his forehead impatiently, then smacked it with a victorious grin. “Ingenuity, it’s right word? Da? We always find a way. Trust me, you use new ingredient, you get even better product.”

  Hakim still looked uncertain. “It’d better work.”

  Zherdev sounded annoyed. “If I tell you it works, then it works.”

  “And the weapons?”

  “Da, I show you.”

  “Are those my hazmat suits?” Hakim asked, tilting his head toward the boxes.

  With a sigh, the Russian got up and went over to the boxes. He pulled on the yellow suit and it billowed out. Ivan turned to him, raising his index finger to emphasize his words. “This is very best, Level A. Excellent protection, at least thirty minutes, plus light weight, only five pounds each.”

  “And the self-contained breathing apparatus?” Hakim asked.

  Zherdev shook his head. Disappointment spread in his dark eyes. “You worry too much my friend. It’s all here, SCABs, portable tank, top grade lightweight aluminum cylinders, and enough chemicals to kill half the population of Miami.”

  Hakim stiffened and the man scoffed. “What you think? You ask for all this and I don’t know what for?”

  Hakim’s eyes narrowed.

  The Russian shook his head. “No, no. I’m with you. Americans, they shit on us. You kill as many as you want. Means nothing to me. But why only three suits?”

  “No concern of yours,” Hakim said tersely.

  The Russian shrugged. “Okay, okay. Your business, not mine.”

  Hakim eyed him for a moment, wondering if he should be concerned, then deciding to let it go. “Is there a transfer line for the tank?”

  Zherdev smiled. “Of course.”

  Hakim remembered the scientist’s request. “And the tank has circuits to control pressure?”

  Zherdev sighed. “Da. I go all over this with your Commander. We have good understanding. Believe me when I say to you it is taken care of.”

  Hakim was surprised. “You know him?”

  The man smirked. “Da, Afghanistan. Abboud and me, we go back long way. We make bond. Like Americans like to say, he rub my back, I rub his.”

  “What about the passports?” Hakim asked.

  “No problem. You bring information?”

  Hakim reached into his pouch, grabbed an envelope and laid it on the desk. “It’s all here, photos and names we want to use. When will they be ready?”

  “Two days, I call you.”

  “The guns?” Hakim asked.

  Zherdev got up, moved the top box out of the way and opened the next one. He pulled out a pistol and held it up. “Two 9mm Glock, good, yes?”

  “What else?”

  The Russian sneered. “You too impatient. Two Remington and one Sig Sauer, nine millimeters. Guns like new.”

  “Ammo?”

  The man nodded on his way back to his desk. He sat down and rubbed his hands in anticipation. “Now, your turn.”

  Hakim reached into his pouch again, pulled out a small velvet bag, and set it on the desk. The Russian stared at it for a moment, his eyes glowing with anticipation, then he slowly untied the cord and pried the bag open. He gently shook the diamonds onto his desk. His face lit up. Almost delicately, he picked up a stone, held it up to the light and eyed it with fascination. “Beautiful,” he breathed.

  Hakim nodded in agreement. “The best there is. Now if you give me my supplies and the money, I’ll be on my way.”

  Zherdev smirked. “Why hurry? In Russia, we celebrate good transaction with drink,” he said, pulling a bottle of vodka out of a desk drawer.

  “I don’t drink,” said Hakim.

  The man shrugged then looked like he had an idea and grinned. “I think of better way. Oksana, come here!” he yelled.

  Startled, Hakim frowned at him. “What is this?”

  “Just wait my friend,” the man said, then shouted louder.

  “Oksana! Now dammit!”

  A young woman wearing a silk kimono stepped into the room. Zherdev glared at her. “Take off that piece of shit!”

  She untied the kimono and dropped it on the floor.

  “This, my friend, is gift to you. She the best I have. She do whatever you want. She knows to please. Yes, Oksana?”

  The woman didn’t answer, staring straight ahead with vacant eyes. Hakim, who had avoided looking her way until now, turned his attention toward her. Standing naked in front of him, the slender young woman had long brown hair falling over her shoulder. Her skin was pale, her features delicate, her breasts small yet appealing, with dark nipples. A warm rush spread in his groin. He hesitated then glanced at the Russian. The man was eyeing him with a wicked grin.

  “She good as she looks. Trust me, I know,” he snickered.

  Hakim gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod.

  “Good, you will like, believe me,” Zherdev said as he gathered the diamonds, gently dropping them back into the bag. Next, he opened his safe, tucked the bag away and pulled out several bundles of money. He handed them to Hakim. “It’s all there. You can count it.”

  Hakim shook his head and put the money into his pouch.

  Zherdev grinned. “Good, good,” he said before turning to the girl.

  “Oksana, take my friend to back and don’t disappoint him or you know what I do,” he warned, raising his arm and making a fist.

  The girl bent down to pick up her discarded kimono, exposing a smooth pink bottom, and Hakim lost all sense of reluctance. He quickly followed her into the other room and shut the door behind him. It was nearly an hour later, after an alarmed Abdul came looking for him, that Haki
m emerged from the back room looking disheveled. The Russian was still sitting at his desk. He chortled. “No complaints?”

  Hakim ran his hand through his hair, avoiding Abdul’s stare. He shook his head.

  Zherdev nodded in satisfaction. “Very good. I want my friends happy.”

  Hakim turned to Abdul, motioning to the tank and the boxes sitting along the wall.

  “All this has to go to the truck.”

  “You help him. Get dolly for tank. Go,” the Russian said to the bouncer who came in with Abdul.

  The two men grabbed some boxes and left.

  “You will call me when the passports are ready?” Hakim asked.

  “Da. And you come back to visit Oksana again. On the house for you and your friends. You tell Abboud I treat you well. We stay partners for anything you need,” the Russian said.

  Hakim didn’t answer. He waited until the two men finished carrying everything out, then left hurriedly.

  The whole time he stood there, he regretted having given in to his urges. Although the woman gave him intense pleasure and obeyed his every request, he was angry with her for tempting him and even angrier for letting this Russian mobster exploit his weakness. He couldn’t wait to get out and swore to himself this was the last time he would set foot in this building. He thought of the reporter again and realized the whole time he was with the girl, he was imagining it was her under him. He shrugged it off, and rushed out of the building. With a sigh of relief, he stepped out of the darkness and into the sun.

  ****

  Slumped on a stool in the lab, Rasul listened indifferently while Hakim showed him the items the Russian had provided.

  “According to my supplier, one of the chemicals you requested was unavailable in this country. He substituted another and assured me it would work as well. I need you to check and make sure. Do you understand?” Hakim asked, annoyed at the scientist’s lack of interest.

  Rasul nodded.

  “Good. You are to start working on the product right away. We only have a little more than a week to get ready. Let me know if you need anything else. If I’m not here, let one of my men know. We will make sure you get whatever you need,” Hakim said.

  He eyed the man pensively, noting once again his pale skin and his demeanor. He had an idea. “If you complete the process ahead of time, I will arrange a phone conversation with your family. You can assure them you will soon be home and be reunited with them.”

  Sure enough, the Iraqi sat up straight and a glimmer of hope appeared in his eyes. “Do you swear?” he asked in a trembling voice.

  Hakim nodded. “I swear.”

  The man got off his stool and walked to the table with the ingredients. “Okay. I will start right now.”

  Hakim pulled a hazmat suit out of one box. “Here, put this on. Don’t want to lose you before you even get going.” He grabbed the other suits and walked out, locking the lab door behind him.

  Chapter Thirty

  The call came in a couple of hours after Jessie got to the Wildlife Center. A property owner who noticed her horses acting strangely had walked to the back of her pasture and found a small goat tied to a fence by a short length of rope. With barely enough room to move, he was unable to reach the nearby grassy area to feed. She gave directions to her ranch in western Davie. Doris and Jessie headed out right away.

  “I usually come in the front entrance by the barn, so I don’t know how long he’s been tied up back here,” the woman said when they got there.

  Doris nodded. “I’m glad you found him. I don’t think he would have lasted much longer. This was just plain meanness, to leave him like this to die.”

  The poor animal was so emaciated, they wondered if he would make it, but his eyes were still full of life, giving them hope he would survive his ordeal. Back at the center, Jessie coaxed him out of the car and after a few moments of hesitation, he jumped out. They brought him to an empty pen and he trotted in without further ado.

  “Let’s give him water and a small amount of food. I don’t think he could handle a whole lot right now,” Doris ventured.

  “I can run to the feed store and get some more alfalfa hay, maybe some pellets,” Jessie offered.

  Doris shook her head. “No need for you to go. Let me call Mike, he’s on his way here and he can stop and pick it up. In the meantime, I still have some vegetables bits I cut up earlier. I bet he would like that.”

  They went back to the kitchen and gathered some apple and celery pieces, and Jessie took them back to the pen. The goat eagerly ran up to her and started eating. As she stood quietly keeping an eye on him, her phone beeped. She had missed its familiar chirp earlier. Now there was a message. As she listened to the recording, her face changed.

  “This message is for Jessie…” There was a slight pause, probably while she was reading her last name off the business card. “…Milner. This is Oksana, from the Doll House. Please don’t call this number. It is not my number. I will call you back when I can, bye.”

  She sounded anxious, in a hurry.

  “Damn!” Jessie muttered, upset about missing the call.

  She remembered the name. The pretty girl in the dressing room, the one who took her card and quickly shoved it under her clothes. When she went back into the house Doris noticed her frown.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Remember when I told you about Irina, the young Russian girl?” Jessie asked.

  Doris shook her head. “Yeah, poor child. It’s unbelievable, in this day and age, this is still going on.”

  “Another girl from the strip club just called me. I gave her a card when I went there with Lonnie. She left a message on my phone but she said I can’t call her back. What if she’s in trouble? Should I go to the club to see if she’s okay?” Jessie fretted.

  “By yourself? I don’t think so. Besides, if they realize she talked to you, it could put both of you in jeopardy. No…” Doris stressed. “She’s being careful and you should wait for her to call you back.”

  “And what if she can’t get to a phone again?”

  “Just give her time. If she doesn’t call you back within the next twenty-four hours, then call Sam,” Doris cautioned.

  Jessie sighed deeply. “You’re right. I just don’t want another girl to lose her life. Especially if I can do something to prevent it.”

  Doris patted her hand. “I know. If she calls back and tells you she needs help, then you take it from there. In the meantime, keep your phone at hand at all times.”

  A few minutes later Mike arrived with supplies for the goat. They went back to the pen. All the food scraps were gone and the little guy was resting.

  “Just give him a couple of handfuls of pellets. We’ll increase the quantity tomorrow,” Doris said, still looking concerned.

  Mike smiled. “He’s eating. He’ll be just fine, Mom.”

  Jessie stayed at the Center another couple of hours, cleaning cages and checking on the animals in various stages of recovery. A blue heron with a broken wing was mending nicely, while a bunch of baby raccoons were learning to get on without their mother, lost in a vicious attack by a pit bull. On her next stop, a beautiful mallard duck eagerly limped toward her and she was glad to see he would soon be ready for release. During the whole time she kept her phone nearby. Oksana never called back.

  ****

  It was six am when her phone chirped on the nightstand. All night Jessie was in a state of semi-alertness, worried about missing a call from the Russian girl. She jumped up and answered. The voice at the other end was but a whisper. “Jessie Milner?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Oksana. You came to the club.”

  Jessie gripped the phone tighter. “Yes, I remember you. Are you all right?”

  “I can’t talk very long. I’m downstairs in the house. Maybe I have to hang up, you know. You helped Irina.”

  “I wanted to help her, Oksana. I failed,” Jessie said softly.

  “No. She was a silly little girl a
nd she made big mistake. Not your fault. It’s Ivan who killed her.”

  “Do you want to leave?” Jessie asked.

  Oksana ignored her question. “Listen, I have information. I tell you quickly. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Jessie said.

  “A man come to club, Arab man. He brings diamonds for Ivan, and I hear them talk. Ivan, he gets him chemical things to make some dangerous stuff, kills thousands people. He also gets him outfits to wear, like er… like Chernobyl.”

  Jessie gasped. “Hazmat suits for radiation?”

  Oksana whispered impatiently. “Yes, yes. Like that.”

  “Did you see the man?”

  Oksana paused for a second. “I see him.”

  Her voice had changed and Jessie detected a thread of anger.

  “Can you describe him?”

  “Short man, dark hair, curly, dark eyes, mean eyes. He has small scar on left cheek.”

  Jessie nodded. Nasir Hakim.

  “And the diamonds, where are they?”

  “Ivan put them in safe,” the girl said quietly.

  “When did all this take place?”

  “Yesterday. I have to go,” Oksana said.

  “I understand. Listen, are you going to try and get away?”

  Jessie was surprised at her reaction.

  “No. I stay. You call police. Get Ivan and Leonid arrested. Put them in jail. Then I take the girls and we go.”

  Jessie realized she was being protective of the other girls, didn’t want to leave them to suffer the same fate as Irina. Yet, she was concerned. “Where will you go?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry. I have contact,” the girl said.

  “If you need help, you call me, and let me know. I’ll do everything I possibly can, Oksana.”

  “Yes, you tell police the Arab is coming back for passports.”

  Jessie’s heart took a leap. “Passports? When is he coming back?”

  “I don’t know, A couple days, maybe. I must go now.”