Diamond Lilly

by Henriette Daulton

  “What about Hakim? Did you arrest him?”

  “No. We did not.”

  “So he never came back for the passports?” Jessie asked.

  “There were no passports.”

  Jessie frowned. “Do you think Oksana was wrong about them?”

  “I don’t know. This is one of the reasons we need to talk to her. Frankly, I can’t discuss this case with you any further.”

  Jessie bristled. “What can you tell me, Agent Estrada?”

  “Only what I told you so far.”

  Somehow, Jessie managed to contain her impatience. “Okay. So I’ll be waiting to hear more from you soon.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Rasul Ahmad was in the man trap, stepping out of his hazmat suit, when Hakim walked into the observation room with Jamal trailing him. A few seconds later the scientist joined them.

  “Done?” Hakim asked.

  Ahmad nodded.

  Hakim eyed him suspiciously. “How do I know you did it right?”

  “The reason you brought me here is because I’ve done this more times than I like to recount. It’s the right formula,” the man said wearily. He pointed to a series of containers lined up on a shelf in the lab. “You have twelve pressurized cylinders with release valves, and two smaller glass containers filled with sarin, all of them ready to go. Exactly as you requested. What more do you want from me?”

  Hakim stared at the containers. They appeared harmless. He shrugged. “I want to be sure it’s the right potency.”

  “It is the highest, most powerful grade of nerve gas you can get, twenty-five times more deadly than cyanide. It’s also under pressure, extremely volatile, and has to be handled with caution,” the man warned.

  “Tell me how it works,” Hakim said.

  “Within seconds of exposure, the subject will drool, vomit, and defecate himself. The lung muscles will be paralyzed, causing respiratory arrest. Sarin has no smell or taste, so he has no idea what's going on. Death will follow in less than ten minutes,” Ahmad said in a voice barely above a whisper.

  Jamal laughed nervously. “Man, that’s some mean shit. We’ll make the front page of the paper for sure with this stuff.”

  Hakim was still not persuaded. Suddenly he turned to Jamal. “We’re going to test it.”

  Jamal’s eyes widened. “How?”

  Hakim didn’t answer, glancing back at the Iraqi.

  “Did you check the antidote the Russian got us? When and how is it to be administered?”

  This time Ahmad pointed to a pile of small packets stacked on a table inside the lab. “It’s the most recent version. You have two kits per person. The first one is the antidote. The second kit is an anticonvulsant. Both of them are to be injected in the outer thigh or buttocks as soon as possible after exposure to sarin.”

  “Will they work if they’re administered prior to exposure?”

  Ahmad shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

  Hakim nodded pensively, then turned to Jamal. “Bring the gas cylinders out of the lab.”

  Ahmad shook his head vehemently.

  Hakim shot him an annoyed look. “What is it?”

  “I would leave them in the lab until you’re ready to use them.”

  “Why?”

  “As I said before, when you’re dealing with a very volatile product, there’s always the possibility of leakage,” the man said.

  Hakim glared at him, stiffening at the scorn reflected in the man’s eyes. In a sudden burst of anger, he grabbed his arm. “Okay, they stay in the lab, and you’re going back to your cell.”

  Ahmad resisted, pulling away from him. “I would like to talk to my family now. You assured me I could when I was finished.”

  “Right now is not a good time. Besides, I don’t have their number yet.”

  The scientist took a step forward and glowered at him. “You said I would be freed when I was done. You gave me your word.”

  He didn’t see it coming. Hakim’s first punch landed on his jaw, the second one in his gut. Ahmad doubled over, moaning with pain. Hakim stood back, rubbed his knuckles. “You asked for it,” he hissed.

  Ahmad’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Please, I just want to see my family,” he said plaintively.

  Hakim took a deep breath. “Let me work on it. Just don’t push me again,” he warned.

  He led him back to his cell, locked the door and motioned to Jamal to follow him.

  “You really letting him go?” Jamal asked after they left the building.

  “Of course not. The first thing he would do is go to the cops.”

  “He wouldn’t do that with his family still held hostage, would he?” Jamal asked.

  “We don’t have them anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” Jamal asked.

  “They got rid of them a long time ago.”

  “They killed them?”

  Hakim leered. “Yeah. He just doesn’t know it yet.” He glanced at Jamal to check his reaction. The man’s face remained impassive and Hakim wasn’t a bit surprised. Jamal was twenty-two, yet looked much older. A deep scar ran from the corner of his eye down to his chin, a reminder of a knife fight to protect his turf when he was only twelve years old. His eyes were dark and deep set, having seen too much, and reflected a life of hardship growing up in the streets. When Hakim met him, the only emotions Jamal still had left in him were anger and hatred, making him a prime recruit for his mission. Becoming a jihadist was the ultimate revenge for the way the world had treated him until now.

  They got in Hakim’s car. “Where we going?” Jamal asked.

  “To make sure the gas will do what we want it to do.”

  “How?” Jamal asked, looking perplexed.

  “With a guinea pig.”

  Jamal shrieked in laughter. “A real guinea pig?”

  Hakim gave him a scornful look. “Of course not, Jamal. I’m talking about a human guinea pig, like a volunteer.”

  “A volunteer?” Jamal repeated.

  “Why not?”

  Jamal raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Who the hell would volunteer to be gassed to death?”

  “You don’t tell them that part.”

  “Yeah, how are you going about it?”

  Hakim grinned. “I have a pretty good idea.”

  “You’re doing this today?”

  Hakim nodded. “We only have until Saturday to get it right. If something is wrong, then it gives us a couple more days to have the Iraqi fix it.”

  Jamal shook his head. “I still don’t see how you’re getting any one to go along with this.”

  Hakim shot him a knowing look and grinned.

  It was nearly four o’clock and the traffic on I-95 was building up. All of a sudden, the skies opened up, delivering a torrential downpour. They moved along at a crawl until they reached Sunrise Blvd and Hakim took the eastbound ramp. A couple of miles down the road, the rain had stopped, the clouds dissipated, and swirls of steam rose from the pavement. Hakim turned in at Holiday Park, one of the oldest parks in Ft Lauderdale.

  He remembered this place well. When he was a child, his mother often brought him here with his sister. He also recalled it was a frequent hang-out for the homeless. He drove past the playground. It hadn’t changed a whole lot since those early days of his childhood. Right now, no children played on the aging swings. He went on a bit further before stopping in a parking space under the shade of an ancient oak tree.

  “What are we doing here?” Jamal asked.

  Hakim smiled. “You’ll see.”

  They remained in the car for a while, sitting in silence, checking out the surrounding area. After a few minutes, an old man, groaning from the effort of pushing a heaping grocery cart, headed in their direction. Oblivious to their presence, he stopped a few feet away from their car and rummaged through his cart. Mumbling to himself the whole time, he finally pulled out something wrapped in wrinkled paper. Looking satisfied at last, he sat on a nearby bench and peeled back the wrapping, tossing it o
n the ground. Eagerly, he chewed on what appeared to be the remains of a sandwich.

  Hakim motioned to Jamal and they got out of the car. As soon as he spotted them, the old man drew in his hand to hide his food, all the while eyeing them suspiciously.

  Hakim stopped in front of him and smiled. “Hi there.”

  “What do you want?” the man asked.

  “How is your day going so far?”

  “Why the hell do you care?” The old man scoffed before taking a cautious bite of his food.

  Hakim laughed. “Because I’m a caring person, and I’m here to make you the best offer you’ve had in a long time.”

  “Oh Yeah? What?”

  “My friend and I run a marketing company,” Hakim explained. “We test new products before they are released for sale and we need people to try them out. Right now, we have a brand-new item. It’s an ointment for minor pain. All it requires is for you to rub on a few dabs of the ointment and give us your opinion.”

  The man shook his head. “I don’t have no pain,”

  Hakim shrugged. “Sure you do, everybody does. But you can just pretend. It doesn’t matter. The pay is the same either way.”

  “That’s all you have to do?”

  Hakim threw up his hands. “That’s all.”

  The old man frowned. “How much you paying?”

  “That’s the best part. We give you five hundred dollars for just a few hours of your day.”

  The old man’s eyes lit up. “Five hundred? In advance?”

  “As soon as you get in my car, I’ll hand you half the money. We go do the test, then I bring you back here and give you the other half. Takes an hour, maybe two, tops. What do you say?”

  The homeless man hesitated. He glanced at his cart. “What about my stuff?”

  “Don’t worry about it. You stash it over there behind the dumpster, no one will get it,” Hakim assured him.

  The old man shook his head. “No, no, I can’t just leave my stuff. Everybody is always trying to steal it from me. This is my stuff. You don’t know. It’s everything I got,” he mumbled.

  Taking out his wallet, Hakim pulled out several hundred-dollar bills, waving them in front of the man. “What if I give you a thousand dollars? Look, I’m giving five hundred right now, right this minute. You can buy a whole new cart full of stuff,” he promised.

  The man wasn’t budging. His eyes were wild. He appeared terrified.

  He started screaming. “Leave me alone. You just want to take my cart, I know it. Leave me alone!”

  The two men backed away, glancing around. A young couple was walking toward them, pushing a baby in a stroller. “Never mind,” Hakim said, motioning to Jamal.

  They jumped back into the car and Hakim drove away. He was fuming. So close, they almost had that stupid crazy old man.

  “Wow, old bastard sure is fucked up,” Jamal pondered.

  Hakim nodded, anger darkening his brow. He got back out on Sunrise Blvd, turned east.

  “Now what?” Jamal asked.

  “Let me think,” Hakim answered impatiently.

  Suddenly Jamal burst out laughing.

  Hakim shot him an angry look. “What’s so funny?”

  “That was a really good story you cooked up back there with the old creep.”

  Hakim smiled. He had to agree. It was a good story. But now they had to start all over. He drove south for a while, then remembered the homeless liked to congregate near the Greyhound bus station on Third Street, near Broward Blvd and Federal Hwy.

  Sure enough, as they neared the station, the sidewalks were noticeably more crowded. Men hung out on benches, others drifted around, none in a hurry. After all, they had nowhere else to go. The trick now was to find a loner, someone they could approach without drawing attention to themselves. Hakim drove another block and parked the car on a side street. They got out and took off toward the bus station. He was still trying to figure out what to do, when Jamal tugged at his sleeve and pointed behind them. Hakim glanced over his shoulder. A solitary man with a backpack was ambling down the sidewalk, heading in their direction.

  “Where the hell did he come from?” Hakim wondered.

  “Maybe from one of the alleys back there,” answered Jamal.

  They stopped and waited for him. As he got closer, he slowed down and eyed them cautiously.

  “Hi there,” Hakim said.

  The man didn’t answer.

  “Are you taking the bus?” Jamal asked.

  He shook his head. “Nope. At six o’clock some of the Mission people bring food down here. Usually it’s not bad, you know, and it’s free, so if you’re interested…One decent meal a day can make a hell of a difference in how good life is, right?”

  He was tall, with a gray beard, bloodshot eyes and thinning hair tied back in a long ponytail.

  Hakim smiled. “Actually, we’re here with an offer for you.”

  The man took a step back, shaking his head vigorously. “Hey man, wait a minute, you got the wrong guy here. I’m not in the game. If you want sex, you’re gonna have to go elsewhere.”

  Hakim laughed. “No, no, nothing like that. It’s a marketing offer. We’re testing a new product at our lab and we need a volunteer. All you have to do is dab on a cream to treat aches and pain, then wait a few minutes to see if there’s a reaction.”

  “You mean, like an allergic reaction?” the man asked.

  “Yeah, exactly. It pays really well, and it’s quick and painless.”

  “How much?”

  “One thousand dollars for two hours’ work. How does that sound?” Hakim said.

  The man’s eyes lit up in surprise. “One thousand bucks?”

  Hakim nodded. “A couple of hours and you’re back down here with a huge wad of money in your pocket.”

  He hesitated and Hakim shrugged. “If you don’t want to take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, we’re going to the station. Plenty of guys down there will jump at the offer. Heck, we’ll probably have to fight them off with a stick. So, make up your mind, right now. You will never get another chance like this.”

  The man squinted, giving them a once over. It was obvious he was debating, maybe wondering why they had to take to the street to find a volunteer for that kind of money. More likely, he thought this was just his lucky day.

  “No more than two hours?”

  Hakim nodded. “Max two hours, bro.”

  “When do I get the money?”

  Hakim took out his wallet, peeled off five hundred-dollar bills, and handed them to him. “When the testing is done, you get the other five hundred.”

  He stood eyeing the money for a moment, his thumb rubbing over the crisp bills before he shoved them into his pants pocket.

  “Okay. When do you want to do this?”

  “Right now. Tonight. The sooner we turn in our results, the sooner the company can start using their product.” At least that part was truthful.

  “Where do I have to go?” the man asked.

  “We’ll take you. Our car is parked close by. The lab is not far,” Hakim assured him.

  The man followed them and they retrieved the car. Hakim turned up the volume on the radio to discourage further conversation, then took off for the house.

  When they pulled up to the building the man looked around, frowning. “What kind of business is this?” he asked.

  “It’s a temporary testing site. After they confirm the product is ready for the market, it will be closed down,” Hakim said.

  “There’s no danger with whatever it is you’re testing, right?” the man asked.

  “None. The Federal Drug Administration would never allow us to go on with tests if there was any risk whatsoever,” Hakim assured him.

  The man took a deep breath and Hakim took him into the lab. “What’s your name?”

  “Harry.”

  “You take a seat right here, Harry.” Hakim pointed to a bar stool. “I’m going to get the product, you will rub it on your skin and we wait twenty m
inutes. If you don’t break out, all’s well.”

  “And if I break out, then what? You said it wouldn’t affect me.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s a very mild irritant. If you happened to break out, which is highly unlikely, we have a pill to stop it. So it’s not a problem, buddy.”

  The man sat on the stool reluctantly. He crossed his arms and glanced nervously around the room. “I don’t know… I don’t feel good. Maybe I should go.”

  “Look man, you’re here now and that’s a lot of dough, right? Let’s just do the test and you get the money. Then we take you back downtown. Unless you want us to drop you off somewhere else. With a thousand dollars in your pocket, you may want to change your plans. You think about it, then let us know, okay?” Hakim said, smiling reassuringly.

  Mention of the money brought a grin to the man’s face. “You’re right. Maybe I get myself a really good steak dinner, and dessert. I like pecan pie with whipped cream on it and a cup of coffee. Then I’ll get a nice motel room to stay for the night, with a real bed for a change.”

  “Sure. Listen, I’ll be right back,” Hakim said. He went into the observation room and locked the lab door behind him. “Jamal, go get Mohamed and Abdul. I want them to see this. Then you know what to do.” He went to the cell to get Ahmad. “Come, we have a volunteer.”

  The Iraqi’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? Who would volunteer for this?”

  Hakim roared with laughter. “See? You’re doubting my powers of persuasion. Believe me, this man volunteered.”

  “What did he volunteer for? Surely not to be killed by sarin nerve gas. You must have lied to him.”

  Hakim was no longer amused. “Yes, I did. Now, enough of this, we are going to do the test and make sure it works exactly as you promised.”

  Ahmad shook his head. “You are a monster. You probably lied to me too, didn’t you? You have no intention of letting me go.”

  “Why do you think we want nerve gas? We plan on using it. Anymore squeamishness on your part stops right now. If you intend to keep your family alive, you will do as I say.” Hakim threatened, his voice cold as ice. He grabbed the man’s arm and pushed him forward. “Now.”

  When they got to the observation room, Jamal was standing in the man trap between the two pressurized doors leading into the lab. He wore one of the hazmat suits and held a glass container. Mohamed and Abdul watched cautiously from a distance.