At ten o’clock the Chicago news coverage droned on covering the latest political scandal, citing quotes and short clips of various opinionated pompous asses. Then it tilted to weather and sports, with long interruptions for commercials selling all manner of devices and drugs to the decadent morons of society watching this drivel. Wouldn’t they ever get to the important information?
Finally, at the end a brief announcement: “Chicago area citizens can relax and go about their normal lives. The Holiday Inn killer has been shot in a confrontation with authorities. Chief Adkins of the Des Plaines police hailed the officer who made the shot as a hero.”
Kabandha spat. “Hero! Pah! My Mohammad is the one deserving of praise. He is the hero—shot in cold blood while carrying out his duty to Allah.”
Kabandha booted up her laptop and went to the special web site. Reading through the twitter site, she checked to see if there any news from her group. She checked out the obituaries list lauding the heroes who have sacrificed themselves for the cause. It was amazing to see how widespread the work had become. People from all corners of the world were joining the ji-had.
It would be up to her, now, to make sure that their sacrifices had counted for something. She would carry on their mission. Kabandha had a plan.
Nate -THE SEARCH –
Dorothy May Mercer
Chapter 13 Next Day
Nate and Cliff Wrap. Mohammad Under Arrest
C liff looked up from his desk as Nate walked in and tossed his hat onto a peg. “What are you doing here?” he grumped.
“Good morning, friend,” said Nate. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
Cliff picked up his coffee cup and leaned back in his desk chair, narrowing his eyes at Nate. “Seems to me you’ve caused me enough trouble.”
“Who me?” Nate held up his hands, palms forward. He pulled up a side chair and sat next to Cliff’s desk.
“Look at this pile,” said Cliff pointing at a tall stack of papers and reports. “You have no idea what it’s like, do you?”
“Umm, I guess not.”
“Haven’t you ever shot somebody?”
“That’s classified information,” laughed Nate.
“Reports, bah-humbug. I have to account for every last bullet fired from my gun… in triplicate.”
“And here I thought the media was playing you up as a hero.”
“Yeah, right. No hero. I just shot a private citizen.”
“Who happens to be a terrorist, who is wanted for double murder,” Nate reminded him.
“Who is innocent until proven guilty,” grumbled Cliff.
“According to his lawyer representative who was only too eager to go before the cameras and claim that the evil Chicago cops are profiling and targeting minorities, again. This time it’s innocent, law-abiding Muslims.”
“Never mind it was a Federal Agent who shot the guy, and not a Chicago cop,” Cliff moaned.
“Details,” said Nate with a chuckle. “I don’t suppose you’ve got anything out of the victim of your ‘irresponsible’ shooting?”
“Naw, we can’t even get near him. Chicago cops got him under wraps.”
“How bad is he?”
“I guess they don’t expect him to make it,” Cliff sighed.
“In which case, you may get a paid holiday while justice slowly grinds.”
Cliff shrugged. “I’m already assigned to this desk, writing up my report. Make that plural.”
“We also serve who sit and write.” Nate laughed.
“Come on, give me a break.”
“Speaking of breaks, how about breakfast? I’m buying.”
Cliff gave him a meaningful look and stood up. “You’re on.”
~~~~~
Nate Studies New Pics
Flying home, Nate watched the suburbs of Chicago fade into the distance as the plane approached the wide-open spaces of the prairie and beyond to the mountains. He closed his eyes, relaxed and snoozed.
Opening his eyes he glanced at his watch. An hour had passed. Damn it would feel good to get home and put all this Chicago trip behind him.
Nate reached for the purple briefcase he carried with him this time. Although he was off-duty, he was still a Federal Air Marshal. Being off-duty made it okay to nap. But inside the briefcase were three days of directives that he needed to study. It was time to catch up.
Reflecting back on his time with Cliff, he appreciated the time spent with an old friend. No doubt the Chicago branch of the Air Marshal service could finish up the case. Nate had left it in good hands. Hopefully they would round up the entire terrorist cell—one less terrorist for Nate to worry about.
~~~~~
Rob gets a call
“Morning Miss Sharon,” greeted the jolly man assigned to the desk this day.
“Hey, Papa Buck, how ya’ doin’?” Buck Boyles was a favorite of all the young cops at the precinct. He was nearing retirement, and so he only worked part-time. But, when he was on duty, he never failed to remember their names and birthdays.
“I’m just peachy-dandy,” said Buck, his wide grin displaying a few missing teeth, testimony to his hard years as a beat cop. “And how are you doing, Miss Sharon? Found yourself a handsome boyfriend yet?”
“Aw, come on, Papa, I don’t need a man.”
Buck chuckled, “Sure you do. I keep telling ya’ the right man can solve all your problems.”
“More like cause me more problems, Papa.”
“Now, you listen to me, young lady, I can fix you right up.”
“Well, Papa, actually there is something you can do for me.”
“A favor?”
“Yes.”
“Great! I’m into favors. Just the thing I need.” He slapped his hand on his leg and grinned at her.
“It’s just a little thing, but would you mind making a phone call for me?”
“Sure, baby. Lay it on me.”
“Well, it’s a case I worked on, a misdemeanor. It was just vandalism to his house and car. But, the victim needs to hear that the case is resolved. That’s all.”
“Um, I see,” said Buck with a twinkle in his eye. “And this victim… could he possibly be a handsome young man?”
Sharon blushed. “Of course not. Whatever made you think that?”
Buck chuckled, knowingly.
“He is just a private citizen who deserves better treatment from our department. Just a phone call, that’s all, I swear,” Sharon insisted.
Buck sighed. “Give me his name and number.”
“Thank’s Papa, I owe you.”
“Make those donuts chocolate with sprinkles, please.”
~~~~~
Rob Deals with Lawyer
Beetle and Bailey, LLC, proclaimed the gilt letters on the office door. When Rob opened the door, a soft tone announced his arrival. He walked across thick carpet to a solid cherry reception desk. The beautiful young women at the desk was dressed in expensive professional attire, a black tailored suit and white silk blouse. Her hair was coifed in a chignon. Her nails were groomed and painted a discrete rose tone that matched her lips. If Rob had been closer he would have gotten a whiff of Chanel Number 5. “Good afternoon, sir, may I help you?”
“Good afternoon. My name is Robert Goodrich. I’m here about the Totten offer.”
“Oh yes, Mr. Goodrich, I have the papers right here for you to sign. But, Mr. Lawrence would like to speak with you first. Can you wait just a moment while I let him know you are here?”
“Yes, of course.”
She lifted a slim phone and pressed a button. “Mr. Goodrich is here to see you, sir.” She paused, clicked off and informed Rob. “He’ll be right out. Would you care for something? We have coffee, water or soda.”
“Thank you, no. I’m good,” said Rob.
“Then if you’ll just have a seat, it may be a moment.”
“Thanks, I’ll stand.” Rob joined his hands behind his back and began a tour of the expensive art on the walls.
So
on a thirty-something man approached wearing a dark suit with a tiny pinstripe, polished shoes and a designer tie. “Mr. Goodrich, I presume?”
“Yes.”
“Hello, I’m Justin Lawrence.” He extended a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Thank you,” said Rob. “I’m here about the Totten offer.”
“Yes, I can help you with that.” He picked up the contract papers from the front desk. “Shall we step into this office?” He held a door open for Rob and gestured him inside.
The office was bare except for a beautiful polished wood conference table, eight plush chairs and original art on every wall. “Just sit anywhere,” said Lawrence. Rob selected a chair at the end and Lawrence chose one on the corner. “Now, I presume you have had a chance to look-over this offer, right?”
“No, as a matter of fact, we have not heard anything since we sent you the copies of our bills,” Rob answered.
“Well, in that case let me give you a brief run-down of the terms, and then you can look it over yourself. Judge Totten has made what we think is a very generous offer. He has agreed to pay you double your damages. In return you need to accept that as suitable and agree to a non-disclosure agreement and to drop any charges, either criminal or civil.”
“I see,” said Rob.
“And so, assuming that is acceptable to you, would you like to read the agreement? If you sign it today, we are authorized to issue your check immediately and you can be on your way.”
“Not just yet.”
“Is there some problem?” His voice was incredulous. “As I said, we believe this is a more than generous offer and the terms are quite standard, I assure you.”
“Yes, it would be generous, except that more damage has come to light.”
Mr. Lawrence’s face fell. “How can there be more damage?”
“Well, my car is fine. No problem there. It was cleaned and repainted. It’s the house. After the front had a chance to dry completely from the cleaning operation, we saw that the color of the bricks had changed. As a result they no longer match the rest of the house. Our cleaning and restoration company is considered the best in the city. They assured us that this result was typical, because of the chemical reaction of the cleaning fluid. There is a special fluid that is required to remove eggs.”
“Did they say what could be done to make it all match?”
“Well, the new color is good enough. The only problem is that it is different, now, from the rest of the house. The restoration company said the only solution was to treat the entire house with the same chemical.”
“And can they guarantee it will match?”
“No, but they have had success in other cases.”
“And the cost?”
“The area to be treated is approximately five times the size of the front.”
“I see.”
Rob waited.
“And the rest of the terms? Are they agreeable?”
“Yes, assuming they are as you say, we have no reason to ruin the Totten boy’s reputation. That is, assuming, of course, that he has remorse and will not bother us any further, nor will he make any new remarks or write any derogatory statements about anyone in my family, including and especially my sister.”
“Um, we may need to add those conditions to the contract.”
Rob waited.
“Well, what do you anticipate will be the cost of these further repairs?”
Rob mentioned a figure.
“Ah, well, that is a little more than we are authorized to go, at this point. However, what you present seems reasonable. I will get back to my client with this new amount and new conditions, and phone you. Will tomorrow be soon enough?”
“Yes, and please send me the new contract by email or fax as soon as it is ready. I will need to have our lawyer look at it.”
“Very well,” said Mr. Lawrence. “Thank you for coming in.”
Rob stood and offered his hand. “Good day, Mr. Lawrence.”
~~~~~
Sally Gets the Password.
Now that she had this promotion, Sally knew she would have to be on the DC-Dallas-Seattle flight more often. Like the rest of the flight attendants, Sally preferred the direct flights and so she probably would have no trouble getting the Virgin American assignment. Even though adding the Dallas stop made for a much longer day, it had the advantage of paying more. There were pros and cons to everything.
Sally wondered how this new assignment would work out.
Edward made it sound simple enough, but Sally had her doubts. Well, there was only one way to find out and that was to just do it. Sally picked up her flight bag, grabbed the handle of her roll-aboard and headed out the door.
Sitting at her regular table, Sally dug into a hearty late breakfast. She wouldn’t have much time to eat once she got busy on the plane. No need to watch for her contact, the young girl knew where to find her. Instead, Sally was surprised when Edward pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. Sally gasped, “Oh,” and then quickly composed her features. “Hi,” she said.
Edward had one thing to say, “The words to watch for are ‘bacon and eggs’.”
“Like this,” Sally gestured at her plate of bacon and eggs.
Edward nodded.
“Bacon and eggs,” Sally repeated the words silently.
Edward nodded, stood up, pushed in his chair, turned and disappeared into the crowd.
~~~~~
The Flight
Virgin American Airlines flight #1715 departed Reagan International, right on time. The flight attendants remained buckled in until the plane was airborne. Sally had greeted each and every first-class passenger by name, with no idea which one would be her target. Maybe he wasn’t even on the plane today.
She smiled and made idle chit-chat with her companion flight attendants, as they worked in the galley, preparing the meals. Once the flight leveled out at altitude, Sally began taking orders from her passengers. She greeted each one, in turn. “Hello, Mr. or hello, Ms. We have several choices for lunch today,” and then she would go through the menu choices: beef, chicken or vegetarian. After years of practice, Sally was able to remember each passenger’s choice, with rare exceptions. She had a way of matching the seat numbers with the letters, B, C, or V.
All was going well until she approached seat #6A.
“I would like bacon and eggs,” said a quite normal looking man, average actually. Pale brown eyes looked directly at her. The only thing that gave him away was the nervous drumming of his fingers on his seat tray.
Sally stopped short, glancing at his hands.
The man quickly clasped them in his lap.
“I wish we had some bacon and eggs for you,” said Sally, quietly. “That sounds good right now, doesn’t it?”
“Well, in that case, the chicken will do,” he said.
“Certainly, sir,” said Sally and calmly looked over at the party in the window seat. “And what will you have, ma’am?”
Out over Texas, Sally had a chance to visit with a few of the passengers. Her target man was somewhat of a surprise to her, as she had met him before and gotten to know him as some kind of computer software engineer working at a small tech firm supplying the airplane industry. She tried to remember the name of the firm and what they did. The details escaped her. Why do you suppose this man was a target, and for what purpose? Sally paused at his seat and smiled. “I hope you are enjoying your flight, Mr. Brown,” she offered.
“Indeed I am,” he responded. “Ah … I don’t suppose you would have time-off between flights?”
So there it was—the contact offer.
She laughed, trying to cover her dismay while she thought of what to say. “Um, well, as you know this flight continues on to Seattle.”
“Oh, yes, I know, but there is a change of planes. Right?”
“Yes, it continues on Alaska Airlines. I don’t always work that flight.”
“Today?”
“Um…” she stalled. “I’ll have to che
ck.” Sally moved on down the aisle.
After all the passengers deplaned, Sally followed the rest of the crew up the ramp. They would soon scatter to their respective lives. Sally paused at the gate, looking around. Sure enough, someone sat in a darkened corner of the lounge. It was him. Sally nodded slightly, in acknowledgment, turned and moved off toward the terminal. She needed to make this look like a casual, happenstance meeting.
Unsure how to arrange this she continued walking, searching for a quiet secluded restaurant, of which none existed. Bright lights were everywhere. And then she remembered there was a certain bar-type lounge in the main terminal. Perhaps that would work. How could she do this? Think, Sally.
Just then, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Startled, she reflexed, turned and quickly inhaled.
“Excuse me,” said Mr. Brown. “I seem to be lost.”
Recovering quickly Sally asked, “Where are you trying to go?”
“I need to pick up my luggage and get a taxicab to my hotel,” he laughed. “I must have made a wrong turn.”
“I don’t think I can help you, sir,” said Sally.
“You must know the way to the baggage claim,” he remarked.
“Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve never needed that particular place,” she laughed, “but surely the overhead signs will point the way. Don’t you think?”
“The answer is ‘yes’ and you can report that,” he said.
“Got it,” she nodded.
“Good,” he said and left her standing there.
Nate Page 14
