No Girl Left Behind: A Jamie Austen Spy Thriller (THE SPY STORIES Book 5)

by Terry Toler

  “Why would she be arrested for that?” I asked. I was proud of myself for toning down my anger and simply asking in my normal inquisitive voice.

  “My understanding is that the man did not convert to Islam. It’s against the law for a Muslim woman to marry a non-Muslim man.”

  “She’s not Muslim,” I argued. “She converted to Christianity several months ago.”

  The officer pulled out his notebook and wrote something down.

  “We can add apostasy to the charges,” he said almost gleefully. “It’s also against the law for a woman to convert from Islam to another religion.”

  Shut up, Jamie.

  I needed to keep my mouth shut. I’d made it worse for Amina bringing her to the hospital. Now I was making it worse on MJ. If I snapped the idiot’s neck in two, I supposed I’d make it worse for all of them.

  “I have everything I need,” the officer said as he closed his little notebook.

  He got back in my face. So close, I could’ve headbutted him into oblivion. It took all of my restraint not to.

  “I’ll deal with you later,” he said. Then turned and walked out the door.

  It didn’t matter what he intended to charge them with. I was going to get the two girls out of the hospital and out of the country before they ever saw the inside of a prison cell.

  The fact that he didn’t arrest them on the spot, meant that I had time. Clearly, the hospital still had some say in the matter. How long would that last? Not long, I presumed.

  I walked over to MJ, leaned over, and whispered the same thing in her ear that I had whispered in Amina’s. “I don’t know if you can hear me or not. If you can, I won’t let them do this to you. I promise.”

  Another promise.

  The first time I said it to Amina, I wasn’t sure I could actually keep the promise. I was even less sure now.

  16

  When I left the hospital, I was in full-blown mission mode. Angry and resolved. Everything would be by the book from here on out. At least to the extent that I did things by the book.

  A-Rad and I turned our focus to rescuing Anya. Not that we would forget about the two girls suffering in the hospital. But we had time to formulate a plan for them. From the conversation with the tribal elder, I gleaned that he wasn’t going to arrest them anytime soon. Not until they recovered from their injuries.

  I’d already given Alex and the AJAX team back home a list of things to do for our mission and decided to call him to find out how he was coming on that list.

  We’d traded the Lamborghini for a black SUV with tinted windows. The SUV wasn’t as flashy as the sports car. In fact, black SUVs dominated the roads in Abu Dhabi and Dubai. Like white cars and trucks back in the states. We’d blend right in which was vital for a spy mission.

  Also, Saad had seen me in the Lamborghini. At some point, our mission was going to take us to his house. Sooner rather than later. Better he continued to think I’d left the country.

  A-Rad was driving. I put the call on speaker so he could listen in.

  “Hi honey,” Alex said when he picked up.

  “Hi sweetie,” A-Rad said to him.

  Alex let out more than a chuckle. “Sorry, A-Rad. But you’re not my type,” he quipped.

  “You’re not my type either. Your legs are too hairy, and so’s your back.”

  “From what I hear, that Bianca girl is more your type,” Alex said.

  “Yeah!”

  “I heard about a little lip massaging back in Geneva.”

  When Bianca had said goodbye to A-Rad, she kissed him. Out of the blue. On the lips. Hard. Taking us all by surprise. A-Rad more than anyone. Then she rushed off to her plane. I’d told Alex about it, but I didn’t expect him to repeat it. I was a little ticked that he did. Clearly, this would only be the beginning. I could envision Alex and the other guys, razzing A-Rad about it for months.

  He was already turning bright red.

  I jumped in. A-Rad was embarrassed. Also, if I didn’t cut them off, the two of them would banter on back and forth for five minutes.

  “Did you get the picture of Anya I sent you, Alex?” I asked.

  “I did,” he said, getting right back into work mode.

  I’d tell him later in private to drop the thing with Bianca. I could tell A-Rad was still sensitive about it.

  “I’m working on it now,” Alex said. “You should be able to pick up a passport at the US Embassy tomorrow morning.”

  Alex was creating a new identity for Anya. Using her picture, he was making her a passport under an assumed name. That way we didn’t have to smuggle her out of the country. She could simply board a plane and leave. The fake passports we made would fool any customs security checkpoint in the world, including the U.S.

  “Let me get Brad on the phone,” Alex said. “He said there’s been a development.”

  My heartbeat suddenly increased.

  I had no idea what that could be. I’d already had my own major development. MJ. What happened to her was heartbreaking. Which reminded me that we needed to stop by Christopher’s house on the way back to our plane. He and his family must be worried sick. That caused me to momentarily lose my focus on Brad’s news.

  When Alex had Brad on the phone, he explained the new development.

  “A bomb exploded in Turkey. A high-ranking member of the White Wolves was killed. Zamani was behind the bomb attack. Or at least that’s what we believe at this time. It fits his M.O.”

  I thought I knew where he was going with this conversation. “Someone made a call from a burner phone two minutes after the blast,” Brad said. “A couple of blocks away. Guess who he called?”

  “Sheikh Saad,” I said, having already pieced it together.

  “That’s right,” Brad said. “Your man hit the White Wolves. I don’t have to tell you why.”

  “Retaliation for stealing the painting and kidnapping Bianca. That’s too funny,” I said.

  Saad obviously bought the ruse that the White Wolves were behind the theft. I figured Saad couldn’t care less about Bianca. The painting was now in the hands of the buyer from Japan. We were forty million dollars ahead, and Saad was out the money and the painting. While I expected him to be angry at the White Wolves, I didn’t expect him to retaliate by killing one of them.

  “You think it’s funny that you’re starting a mini-war in the middle east?” Brad said to me.

  “I always think it’s funny when bad guys are killing each other. Less people around for me to kill.”

  “Don’t even think about killing the Sheikh,” Brad warned. “Just rescue the girls and get out of there. Anyway, I’m telling you this new information, so you don’t get caught up in the crossfire.”

  “Thanks. It warms my heart to know that you’re concerned about me,” I said sarcastically.

  “Signing off,” Brad said, and the phone went silent. That’s the closest he got to an actual goodbye.

  That made me think of something.

  “Alex. How are you coming on finding the Sheikh’s bank accounts?”

  “Pretty good. We’ve found several hundred of them. He’s got billions of dollars in accounts all over the world.”

  Alex was a master hacker. The best in the world. Especially now that he had a team of computer experts working behind him at AJAX. His team could hack into anything. Which was a scary amount of power for his team to possess. Fortunately, they were using it for good.

  “Are they all legitimate?” I asked.

  “They appear to be.”

  We were investigating the Sheikh to see if he had any ties to terrorism.

  “Any accounts in Turkey?” I asked.

  “Let me check.”

  I muted the phone and said to A-Rad. “Let’s swing by the Tate’s apartment in Abu Dhabi City. You know. MJ’s husband, Christopher’s house. See if anyone’s there.”

  While A-Rad hadn’t gone into the hospital with me, he waited in the car, and I filled him in when I came out. He was as fired up abo
ut helping MJ as I was.

  I took their address out of my pocket and handed it to him, and he entered it into the GPS. A few seconds later, Alex was back on the phone.

  “He has one account in Turkey,” Alex said. “At the Bank of Ankora.”

  “What’s the balance?”

  “He’s got a little over seven billion Lira in that one account.”

  “What’s that come out to in dollars?”

  “Let me add it up.”

  We could see the skyline of Abu Dhabi City on the horizon. Every time I saw it was like the first time. No downtown anywhere in the world was more magnificent. Too bad some of that wealth was in the hands of men like the Sheikh. Pure evil.

  “Nine hundred million dollars. $985,463,277.45, to be exact.”

  I could feel my mouth gape open. A-Rad shook his head in disbelief as well.

  “Can you take it out of the account and make it look like the White Wolves stole it?” I asked.

  “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

  “Can you steal it, so it’s never traced back to us?”

  “That’s brilliant. That’ll really stir up a hornet’s nest. Saad will go ballistic if that money goes missing. Naturally, he’ll think the White Wolves are retaliating for the bombing. That’ll take the war to a whole new level. I can put the money back later. Good idea, honey.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Brad’s not going to like it, though,” Alex said.

  “That makes it an even better idea.”

  ***

  Abu Dhabi City

  A-Rad found the Tate’s apartment building with no trouble. We had to stop at the security desk, and the man had to call them before we could enter. I gave him our name. A woman’s voice was on the other end.

  “Tell her we have a message from MJ,” I said to the man at the desk.

  That got us through immediately. The door to their apartment was already open, and a woman and young man greeted us as soon as we got off the elevator. I presumed the young man was Christopher.

  “You talked to MJ? Is she okay?” the woman asked me with a sense of urgency in her voice. She hadn’t invited us into the apartment.

  “We just left her,” I said. “I’m Jamie and this is A-Rad.”

  “Where is she?” Christopher said. “I want to see her.”

  “She’s in the hospital,” I said. “Her father attacked her. Is there someplace we can talk privately?” I asked. The last thing I wanted to do was have this conversation in the hallway with security cameras watching us.

  “Please come inside,” the woman said, motioning for us to follow her.

  The apartment was upscale which I already assumed given the address and the outside of the building. The Tate’s clearly had means. The woman was in her forties. Styled blonde hair. Wearing red leggings and a white pullover shirt. Christopher was in jeans and a polo shirt. More of a preppie type. An unlikely pair, it seemed to me. MJ and Christopher. They came from two totally different worlds.

  A contrast to my marriage. Alex and I were exactly alike. Which made us an even odder couple. Two Type A passionate personalities caused Alex and me to clash at the drop of a hat. We also moved on from things quickly which was why we were able to make it work. Thinking of Alex caused a twinge of missing him to shoot through my heart. Alex and I both knew the risk of someone knocking on our door someday and telling us that the other was in the hospital. Or worse.

  I took a second to choose my words carefully. Christopher and his mom had no doubt been going through emotional hell for the last few days. Not knowing what happened to his new bride must’ve been excruciating. The details were even more horrific than probably they’d even imagined. While I couldn’t totally lessen the blow, at least I could try and be reassuring first.

  “MJ is hurt, but she’s going to live and will recover. As you know, they went to Shule’s house to get the birth certificate.”

  I wanted them to know that I had information that I couldn’t possibly know without MJ or the Aunt giving it to me. I wasn’t sure how much they trusted a stranger showing up on their doorstep. The fact they were starving for information was most likely why they let us in. I wanted to build their trust right from the beginning.

  “Aunt Shule gave me your address and asked me to come see you and explain why they haven’t been in touch.”

  “We went by her house,” the mom said. “Several times. No one was there. Obviously. I’m Ivory Tate by the way. This is my son Christopher. My husband, Wayne, is at work.”

  “MJ’s going to be okay,” I repeated. “But she was burned. Her father poured kerosene on her and set her on fire.”

  Ivory let out a gasp.

  “Oh, my word!” she said, as tears welled up in her eyes. “I was afraid something bad had happened to her.”

  Christopher began pacing around. His fists balled and his shoulders tensed. He was having the same reaction I’d have. While I didn’t know exactly what he was thinking, he probably wanted five minutes alone with the father. Not that it would be a good idea. Christopher was a hundred and forty pounds sopping wet. I’d never seen the father, but I imagined that he could make mincemeat of Christopher in a matter of seconds. Better for Christopher to get his anger out here and never see the father.

  “She’s in the hospital recovering from her burns,” I added. “The right side of her body was most affected. Her face wasn’t burned at all.”

  “I want to see her,” Christopher said, not even acknowledging my comment. I got the impression MJ’s face could be disfigured and Christopher wouldn’t care.

  “That’s not a good idea,” I countered. “You may be putting her life in danger. The tribal police have already been by to see her. They intend to charge her with a crime. I suggest you get in touch with your lawyer. He should go by and see her.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Mrs. Tate said. “Anup will know what to do.”

  “Her Aunt is with her. I’m going to help as well.”

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Tate said. “What can we do?”

  “My understanding is that you want to go to America,” I said.

  “That’s right,” Christopher replied. “We were going to leave two days ago, but MJ had the problem with the passport. As soon as she’s well, I want us to get out of here.”

  “The authorities put her on a no-fly list,” I said. “They aren’t going to let her leave the country.”

  “What are we going to do?” Mrs. Tate said.

  “I have a plane. A-Rad is my pilot.” I pointed over to him. “I just have to figure out how to get MJ on it without the authorities knowing about it.”

  “You’d do that for her?” Mrs. Tate said. “It sounds like you would be putting your own life in danger.”

  Of course, I couldn’t tell them that I routinely put my life in danger. At some point, I might tell them that I work with the CIA but not yet.

  “I’m going to help MJ,” I said. “I just have to figure out how to do it.” My first priority was to get Anya out of the clutches of the Sheikh, but of course, they couldn’t know about that.

  A loud rap at the door, startled everyone. Mrs. Tate stood and went to the door. I could hear a man’s voice in the hallway but couldn’t see his face.

  A few seconds later I saw the person behind the voice.

  The tribal elder.

  Same guy. The one from the hospital.

  When he saw me, his eyes widened.

  “Why am I not surprised to see you here?” he asked me.

  “I’m surprised to see you. What brings you to Abu Dhabi City?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

  Confirmed when he turned to Christopher and said, “I’m here for the boy. Are you Christopher Tate?” he asked.

  “Who wants to know?” the kid said brazenly.

  “You’re under arrest!”

  “On what charge?” I asked, trying to take the focus off Christopher before he said something to make matters worse.

&nb
sp; The man said, “On the charge of proselytizing. Sexual indignities. And Taboos on Atrionization. Just to name a few.”

  I didn’t know what atrionization was or maybe I’d gotten the word wrong in the translation. I didn’t think it was a word. Whatever he said the charge was, I figured it couldn’t be good.

  17

  Christopher was now in handcuffs.

  “Is that necessary?” I asked Barney. My nickname for the idiot police officer, tribal elder, or whatever he was, who was trying to arrest these poor kids for no reason. For some reason he reminded me of Barney Fife from an old-time television show I watched as a kid on reruns.

  Barney got in my face again like he had at the hospital. Lunch must’ve consisted of some type of fish. I had to back up or I would’ve gagged.

  I could see A-Rad tense up.

  Easy boy.

  “I’ve got another set of handcuffs on me,” Barney said. “I can easily put you in a set and haul your skinny little al-hammar down to the station. I think that word meant ass in Arabic.

  Putting me in a set of handcuffs would not be easy for him to do. In fact, impossible. Easy for me to do to him. I could put him in a Curly Cuff. That’s where we handcuffed a bad guy’s wrist and ankle together. Behind his back. I’ve been in that position. After five minutes, you wished you were dead. It’d take me less than a minute to have his al hammar sticking up in the air in a most uncomfortable position.

  Somehow, I had to get the pictures out of my mind so I could make my argument. “I’m just saying that the boy is not going to run. Where would he go? His parents live in Abu Dhabi. He goes to school here. I don’t think cuffs are necessary. I’m sure he’ll go peacefully. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Did you send me the video?” Barney asked me, trying to get in my face again.

  I tried holding my breath. That didn’t work, so I tried breathing through my mouth. What I really wanted to do was pinch my nose with my fingers. I’d offer him a piece of breath mint if I had one.

  “I haven’t had a chance yet,” I said, turning my head away completely.

  “Do it now. While I’m here.”

  “I don’t have my phone with me.”