Higgins

by C. G. Cooper

  “You know our people spoke with your son, correct?”

  When Salhab focused back on York, Higgins noticed a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “I am aware.”

  “Tell us about the dissent in your ranks, Mr. Salhab.” York’s voice was sweet with innocence. “Is there any reason why they would not tell you that you have another grandchild on the way? Perhaps they disapprove of your Western attitude toward women, or of your continued support of a son who has done his best to distance himself from you and your operations?”

  “They know better.” There was a slight growl in Salhab’s voice. The boyish quality to his face had turned harder, older. “They know better than to question me.”

  “He said he misses you,” York said. “Not the you that you are now, but the old you. The man who used to be his father.”

  “I am still his father.”

  “Ask your son. He seems to have a different opinion.”

  “Is this where you tell me that you’ll put me in a room with my son, maybe even with my granddaughter, if only I’ll tell you what our next target is?”

  “Will it work?”

  Salhab laughed, but it was harsh. “Your agents have been working on me for countless hours. They have kept me starved and without water. I have not been allowed to sleep. I have not been allowed to leave to go to the bathroom. I have had a knife to my throat and yet I have not talked. What makes you think an empty promise of talking to my son will get me to tell you what you want to hear?”

  York leaned forward, waiting until she had every ounce of Salhab’s attention. “Because it’s not an empty promise.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  York and Higgins left to allow Salhab to chew on the conversation. Baker and Spencer led them into the other room, the former vibrating with so much anger that he began to blur around the edges.

  “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” Baker bellowed. Higgins hoped the other room was soundproof, otherwise this would not be good for their cause. “You can’t promise him something we can’t deliver!”

  “You heard him,” York said. “He’s ready to talk. We just have to convince his son to meet with him.”

  “We don’t even have to convince him to do that,” Higgins pointed out. “We just have to convince him to say that he will meet with him. Call up the son, hand the phone over to Salhab, and the deal is done.”

  “We’re not negotiating with that asshole.” Baker’s voice continued to get louder. “That’s not how this works.”

  “That’s how this works,” Spencer said, gesturing to York and Higgins. “We find the crack in his armor and we exploit it.”

  Baker’s eyes were wild. “What if we can’t convince the son to do it? What if Salhab goes back on his word? What if he gives us bad intel? What if his son is in on it after all? Goddammit, there are a thousand ways this could go wrong and only one way it might go right. And if it doesn’t work out, we’re at the end of the line. We’re not going to get another chance.”

  “You’re already at the end of the line,” York said. She stepped forward, toe to toe with Baker, her eyes devoid of fear. “This is our last chance.”

  Higgins didn’t think it was his imagination when he saw surprise and confusion flicker across Baker’s face. He doubted many people stood up to Baker like that, let alone a stranger and a woman.

  “The director wouldn’t allow this in a million years,” said Baker.

  “The director doesn’t need to know,” said Spencer.

  “And how do you suppose we work around him?”

  “They’re your men in London, correct?”

  Baker’s answer was slow and deliberate. “Yes.”

  “So, call them up. Get the son on the phone.”

  “And then what?”

  Higgins stepped forward. “Then leave the rest up to me.”

  It felt like the phone rang for an eternity before it connected. An American agent answered, confirmed Higgins’s identity, and then handed the phone over to Salhab’s son.

  Higgins waited for a greeting that never came. “Am I speaking to Tariq Khan?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Dr. Alvin Higgins. How are you?”

  The son’s laugh was laced with static. “Oh, I’m wonderful. It’s such a beautiful day here in London. This morning, the armed guards let me see the sun for about five minutes. That’s three more than yesterday. Maybe tomorrow we’ll attend a football match.”

  Higgins expected the animosity. The sarcasm wasn’t a surprise either. Salhab was charismatic, so it stood to reason the apple wouldn’t fall far from the tree. Tariq’s accent was interesting, however. Higgins knew he had lived in London for quite some time, but he was also certain the man was affecting his voice to sound more British. Anything to distance himself from his father.

  “Have you been made aware of what we’re expecting from you, Tariq?”

  “Oh, yes.” Tariq blew out a breath that whistled in Higgins’s ear. “And I’m here to tell you it’s not going to happen under any circumstance.”

  Higgins was glad the others couldn’t hear the conversation. Baker, Spencer, and York were trying not to crowd him, but they were all leaning in, attempting to gauge how it was going. He turned his back on them and walked over to the table in the corner, staring down at the schematics he had inspected earlier.

  “How is your daughter, Mr. Khan?”

  Tariq’s voice immediately hardened. “You will leave my family out of this.”

  “It wasn’t a threat, Mr. Khan.” Higgins was worried he had already stepped over the line. “It was a genuine inquiry. I hope she’s doing well. Your wife, too. I know this is a difficult time. I assume your wife was aware of your connections prior to this week?”

  Tariq paused. He was hesitant, though no longer openly hostile. “Yes. We were married in Beirut. Minah knew who I was—who my father was—from the very beginning.”

  “And, she accepted you?”

  “Like Michael Corleone’s wife.”

  Higgins smiled. “I bet you see yourself in that character. You never had any ambition to join your father, huh? There’s a lot of money and power in what he does.”

  “I’ve already told this to your men.” Tariq sounded bored.

  “They’re not my men. In fact, I don’t technically work for the CIA.”

  “Then who do you work for, Mr. Higgins?”

  “Doctor Higgins. At the moment, I’m just in training. There’s no guarantee I’ll be with the CIA when this is done, though that is obviously the end goal.”

  “And what is it that you do?”

  “I understand people,” Higgins said. He could still feel the stares of the three people at his back. The pressure was mounting. “More importantly, I understand people like your father.”

  “He is not a person.” Tariq spat and continued. “He is a monster.”

  “He has a heart and lungs. And he thinks about the how he can best achieve happiness in this world. Like it or not, Tariq, you and he are joined by your common humanity, if nothing else.”

  Silence. Higgins could hear Tariq working his mouth trying to figure out what Higgins meant, what Tariq could say.

  “He wants his granddaughter to grow up without hatred in her heart for the family she came from.”

  “She won’t know if I refuse to tell her.” Strength was now returning to Tariq’s voice. “The day I married Minah, and I realized there is more in this world than power and money, is the day he lost this part of his family, forever.”

  “I think he understands that. Your father is a proud man. He’s old. His legacy is secured, thanks to your brothers, but legacy is not the only thing that would make your father happy.”

  “Legacy is the only thing he’ll have, regardless.”

  Higgins rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t making the headway he had been hoping to. “And what about your mother?”

  “What about her?”

  Tariq’s voice had softened. Hig
gins held onto that. “Do you miss her?”

  “Every day.” Tariq spoke without hesitation. “But my father will not allow her to speak with me. She has tried in the past, but she loves and respects him too much to disobey.”

  “Your father tells me he respects your mother. He listens to her.”

  “He does. It has caused friction in the past amongst his men.”

  York appeared next to Higgins and tapped her watch. She threw a weary look over her shoulder. Higgins held up a finger. He felt closer than he had before. He just had to be sure every move he was making was perfect. The chessboard lit up in his mind.

  “But he wouldn’t allow her to speak with you? To see you and your family, her granddaughter?”

  “I am a traitor to my family and my father’s men. My father’s allowing my mother to see me would be a betrayal of their trust. It would be a sign of weakness. My father inspires loyalty in everyone he meets, but he is not God. It’s not blind faith.”

  “Despite all of this, he still wants to see you. Maybe it isn’t for his own sake. Maybe it’s for the sake of your mother. Either way, he’s ready to risk his empire for you and your daughter.”

  York placed a warm hand on Higgins’s shoulder. Her whisper was just a breath in his ear. “Just get him to say he’ll do it. They don’t actually have to meet.”

  Higgins shook his head. He wasn’t sure whether it was because he knew Salhab would require more proof or because he did want to help this family reunite. He kept pushing for more. He was fully immersed now, like a character actor on full tilt. They needed Tariq to agree, for real. It was a feeling in his gut he couldn’t push away.

  Tariq’s voice was steady when he spoke. “I do not want my daughter to know that man.”

  “I understand—”

  “Do you?” Tariq laughed. It sounded pained and hysterical. “Do you know what it was like living with him? Looking up to him and thinking he had all the answers, only to find out what kind of person he really is?”

  “I can’t imagine,” Higgins said softly. “My father and I never got along. He drank and came home and cursed at my mother for allowing me to be born. I was a financial burden. Then you know what happened? He was pulled over for drunk driving. I had to go and pick him up from the police station. He said, ‘Do you know why I drink? I drink because day in and day out all I see are the reasons why the world would be a better place without me. Then he said God had endowed him with an eternal resistance to suicide, and drinking helped him forget it. He told me that the drink also shut everything else down, like the way antibiotics kill good bacteria along with bad. Then he told me he was proud of me because I was the one thing in the world that he could point to and say, ‘There, I did it right once.’ Don’t you don’t think your father feels the same way? If not, you’re just another vindictive loser turning his back on his family. Who’s the monster here, Tariq?”

  There was nothing but breathing on the line. Higgins took advantage of it.

  “Tariq, I stood in a room with your father for a short time and saw what kind of person he is. I can’t imagine what it was like to see that every day. It fascinates me that despite everything you’ve seen, you were still able to walk away. Not many could do that. Not everyone wants to do that.”

  “It fascinates you?” Tariq’s voice was deadly quiet.

  Higgins’s stomach clenched. He felt another wave of nausea rise up, but he pushed it back down. “I’m a man of learning, Mr. Khan. Everything fascinates me. It has gotten me into trouble in the past.” Higgins sighed. He could feel his walls dropping, the desperation settling in. “I know this is the last thing you ever wanted to do. I don’t blame you. We can’t force you to meet with your father. But I’m hoping what made you strong enough to leave all those years ago is what will make you strong enough to do this now. Don’t do it for him. Do it for your mother so she can know her granddaughter. Do it for yourself, so he no longer has any hold over you. Do it for the people’s lives you’ll be saving.”

  Higgins’s ears pricked at the soft weeping on the other end of the phone. He felt the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck at being witness to such raw emotion, but he held his tongue. They were on the precipice, but it was Tariq Khan who had to choose whether or not they jumped into the unknown.

  “We’ll be safe?” Tariq’s voice cracked on the last word. He cleared his throat and continued. “Nothing will happen to my daughter? You can guarantee that?”

  “I can guarantee that.” There was a moment of guilt. He didn’t quite have the power to say that, but what other option was there? The CIA would put in any measure of precaution to make sure everything went according to plan.

  “What’s the next step?” Tariq sounded even more tired than before.

  “We need you to speak to your father. Will you hold the line?”

  The tension in the room gave way to a tenuous air of relief. York clapped her hands.

  “That’s the way to do it, Higgins. Congratulations.”

  “We’re not outta the woods yet, people,” said Baker. “We still have to get these two on the phone.

  “I never said we were out of the woods,” uttered Higgins.

  “Alright, let’s make this happen,” said Spencer.

  As they made their preparations to transfer the call to Salhab, York pulled Higgins aside.

  “You’ve got quite the daddy issues, don’t you?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “The tough Marine, and now this revelation of him being an alcoholic? You striving to impress the man?”

  Higgins smiled. “My dad was a librarian who never touched the stuff in his life.”

  The woman’s jaw fell open.

  “You should have read my file, York.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The phone call was brief. By the time Higgins and York had reentered Salhab’s room, Tariq had composed himself. His voice was sharp, but his affirmation that he would indeed meet with his father had softened his words. Salhab’s eyes were brighter when they hung up.

  He looked up at York. “Well done.”

  “Actually,” she said, hooking a thumb over her shoulder at Higgins, “it was all him.”

  Salhab turned his attention to Higgins. “Then I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

  Higgins nodded but didn’t know what to say. He was proud and a little excited, but the reality of who this man was and what he was capable of was ever-present.

  Baker walked around to face Salhab. His eyes were hard. “We held up our end of the bargain. It’s time to talk.”

  “I will,” Salhab said. “But not until I’m safe.”

  “You’re safe enough here.” Baker tightened his grip on his weapon. “Though only until my patience runs out.”

  “What time is it?”

  Higgins looked down at his watch. “Almost 15:00 hours, local time.”

  Salhab nodded a few times before speaking. “I have been in custody for nearly forty-eight hours. My men will attempt to charge the safehouse. Many of them will die, but I fear your defenses won’t hold against them all.”

  “You fear?” There was a look of disgust on Baker’s face.

  Salhab’s eyes were no longer shining, but hard and determined. “I want to see my son.”

  “How do we stop them?” York asked.

  “You can’t. We must to leave. Now. A small team of your men will have to find my wife and give her a message. Then you will take the two of us back to America, where I will see my son and granddaughter. Once I am satisfied, I will tell you everything you need to know.”

  Baker took an ominous step forward. “You’ll tell us everything we need to know, now.”

  Before Salhab could answer, there was gunfire beyond the walls of the safehouse. Everyone inside the room froze and turned in the direction from which it was coming.

  Spencer was the first to move. He had been quiet, Higgins had almost forgotten he was there. He untied Salhab from the chair and yanked him to his feet. The man
’s wrists were still bound, but a sharp prick of fear punctured Higgins’s chest nonetheless.

  Baker shook with anger, but Spencer put a hand on his chest and managed to push him back a step while still hanging onto their prisoner. He looked Baker dead in the eye. “There’s no time. We have to move.”

  The group managed to clear the room and open the door to go downstairs before Abrams and Johnson came hurtling toward them, taking the steps two at a time. Johnson looked past Baker and addressed Spencer.

  “They’re coming in from all sides. We don’t have enough men to keep them out.”

  “We know.” Spencer looked down at Salhab, whose face was free of any emotion. “We have to get him out of here and back to the plane.”

  Abrams whipped his head around. “Excuse me?”

  “I’ll explain on the way.” Spencer turned back to Baker. “We’ll secure Salhab. You need to get your men to his wife.”

  Baker didn’t look happy about it, but at this point, what could any of them do? Salhab’s men were at their doorstep. They had to act. Baker turned to their prisoner. “And the message?”

  “Tell her our little flower is ready to see the sunlight. She’ll follow you anywhere you take her.” Salhab grabbed Baker before he could rush off. “If anything happens to her, anything at all, the deal is off.”

  Baker ground his teeth and shook off Salhab. “Fine,” he said, then bounded down the stairs to fight with his men.

  Spencer turned to Johnson and Abrams. “We got an exit plan?”

  Abrams turned on his heel and ran down the stairs, calling over his shoulder, “I have an idea or two.”

  Higgins was under very clear instructions to hang back. It was also his job to keep an eye on Salhab. It was York’s job to keep an eye on him. Abrams led the way with Spencer and Johnson flanking the team, guns drawn. They ran past Baker, who was giving instructions to three of his men, and out through a small kitchen and dining area, then eventually to a back room with a thick wooden door.