by David Spell
He had told her of his job as a diplomat for the PLO at the United Nations. Angela had not seemed particularly impressed by his position but when he told her where he lived, her eyes had lit up.
“Really? I looked at an apartment there but it was way out of my price range. That’s such a nice building. What floor are you on?”
“I live on the thirty-fifth floor.”
“I bet the view is amazing!”
Abdallah nodded. “They are spectacular, especially at night when everything is lit up. I would invite you to come have a look but that’s probably too forward of me.”
There was a long silence, with just the sound of other conversations around them filling the air. He thought he might have offended her, but saw her nod.
“If you invited me, I would love to see your place,” she answered, licking her lips.
“Anwar! Can I have my check?” Bamya called across the tavern.
FLY NYC TERMINAL, ADJACENT TO THE EAST RIVER, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK, WEDNESDAY, 1935 HOURS
The black, unmarked Sikorsky S-92 settled gently onto the tarmac of one of Fly NYC’s three helicopter pads. After the engines were shut down, Joey Anderson climbed out of the aircraft clad in a green jumpsuit, the pilot’s normal flight attire. Chuck and Andy greeted him just outside the slowly spinning rotors.
“Hey, Joey, good to see you!” McCain greeted the pilot, shaking his hand. “You probably don’t remember this guy,” Chuck said, pointing at Andy, “but his team were the ones who caused all the havoc on that farm where you picked us up in Mexico.”
The trim African-American, formerly a major in the Army’s 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment, shook Fleming’s hand and smiled.
“Yeah, I saw those flames burning from miles away. I take it you guys never caught any flack from that little excursion south of the border?”
McCain shrugged. “It pays to have friends in high places. I appreciate you helping us out tonight.”
“Kevin said you guys are snatching a really bad guy. How did we get permission to land here?”
“I spoke with the night operations manager and showed them my DHS credentials and told him the truth. We need to stage here for a little while for an op in the war on terror. He said he was flying a charter tour of Manhattan the morning of 9/11 and watched the second plane smash into the towers. He was thrilled to help us.
“And yes, we’re grabbing a high-value target. If you’ve been watching the news for the last couple of weeks, you’ll have an idea what this is about.”
Anderson’s eyes narrowed, understanding exactly what McCain was talking about. The terrorist incidents in Washington, D.C. and the one in Trenton were still being dissected on most of the news networks. The pilot lived and operated a charter service in the Dallas, Texas area, but was taking more and more contract jobs for the CIA and other government agencies. The former SOAR’s pilot had gotten to know Kevin Clark in Iraq and with Clark’s new position in the Agency, Anderson was spending more time on the east coast.
“Is there some place where we can talk?” Joey asked. “It’s one thing to do a snatch in rural Iraq. The Big Apple brings a whole new set of challenges.”
“The manager said we can use one of the offices,” Andy answered. “Let’s get inside and show you what we’ve got.”
UPPER DECK SPORTS BAR, E 44TH STREET, NEW YORK CITY, WEDNESDAY, 2025 HOURS
Scotty and Jimmy occupied a corner table on the second level of the bar, working their way through a Big Apple Platter. It contained wings, chicken tenders, onion rings, fried ravioli, chips, celery, carrot sticks, along with spinach and artichoke dip. They limited themselves to just two beers each, not wanting to slow their reflexes.
The bar was located across the street from the Empire Luxury Apartments. Their van was in the parking deck adjacent to the bar. The two men were Chloe’s backup team and their earpieces allowed them to hear the conversation between her and the terrorist at the One World Tavern. The middle button of Wilkerson’s blouse was a microphone, transmitting the entire encounter.
If things went smoothly, Smith and Jones would not be needed. They would simply drive the three blocks over to the safe house, pick up Gabriella, and then join the rest of the team in upper state New York. They weren’t looking forward to the four-hour drive, but they understood the need for seclusion for the next part of their mission.
“Dude, slow down!” Jimmy said, looking up at his large companion. “I only got two of those wings.”
“You snooze, you lose, brother,” Scotty laughed, dropping the now clean bones onto his plate. “All this surveillance stuff has made me hungry. There’s still plenty of celery and carrots left.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“It sounds like our girl is doing a great job luring Abbydabby in,” Smith commented, listening as Wilkerson told Bamya she would love to see his place.
The Palestinian’s voice spoke up, “Anwar! Can I have my check?”
The two men quickly wiped their hands, faces, and downed the last of their beer. Scotty left a hundred-dollar bill on the table and they rushed down to street level to be in position if Chloe needed them. The conversation in their ears let them know their partner and their target were on the way back to his apartment.
EMPIRE LUXURY APARTMENTS E 44TH ST, NEW YORK CITY, WEDNESDAY, 2035 HOURS
Chloe acted surprised when Nassar joined them as they exited the tavern.
“Who’s he?” she demanded.
“Don’t mind Nassar. He’s my personal assistant and lives with me.”
The young woman stopped on the sidewalk as the two men kept walking. When Abdallah realized that she was no longer with them, he quickly turned to see her glaring at him.
“What’s the matter, Angela? I thought you wanted to see the city lights from my apartment?”
“Well, yeah, I did until I found out someone else was coming with us. I think I’ll just catch a cab and head home. Nice meeting you, Abdallah. Thank you for dinner.”
The confused look on Bamya’s face turned to an expression of understanding.
“I apologize for not telling you about my assistant. Would you feel more comfortable if he entertained himself at the bar across from my building? He could go have some more beers while I host you. Would that be acceptable?”
A shy smile crept onto her face. “That would be fine.”
Nassar said something to Abdallah in Arabic, clearly not happy with the arrangement. The leader of the Brotherhood responded harshly, cutting off the bodyguard’s protests. When they reached the front of the Empire Luxury Apartments, Bamya leaned in and spoke quietly to Nassar, who nodded and crossed the street towards the Upper Deck Sports Bar.
“Oh, my God! Abdallah, this is spectacular!” she said, darting around his living room, looking out each window at the New York City skyline, illuminated by millions of lights. She soon had her phone out, attempting to take photos of the panorama.
The leader of the Brotherhood was pleased that his date was happy. Angela was the first woman to visit the inside of his apartment that he had not paid for. While the prostitutes served their purpose, there was something special about a woman who genuinely seemed interested in him.
Abdallah hoped she would spend the night with him but wasn’t exactly sure how to woo an American woman. That was one of easy things about dealing with the escort service. The girls knew what was expected of them. It was a simple business transaction and then they were on their way. This was different and he didn’t want to ruin the moment by saying or doing the wrong thing.
“Angela, may I offer you a glass of wine or something else? I have a nice white from Palestine that I think you might like.”
“I’d love a glass of wine. Can I use your restroom?”
“Of course. It’s down that hallway, the first door on the right. I’ll open the wine.”
Inside the restroom, Chloe took a deep breath, calming her nerves. They might just pull this off, she thought, accessing the messages on
her smartphone.
“U r doing great. Everything in place.”
The text had come from Chuck twenty-five minutes earlier.
“I’m going to try to get him to the roof in the next 10-15 minutes.”
As she waited for a reply, she took a moment to use the toilet and wash her hands. Her phone vibrated with an incoming text.
“Sounds like showtime. Let’s do it!”
Wilkerson took another deep breath and sauntered back to the living room. Bamya smiled as he handed her a glass of wine. She could see he was still tipsy from his beers and knew that she needed to take advantage of that.
“You have a beautiful home, Abdallah,” she said, lightly clinking her glass to his. “Thank you for inviting me to see it.”
“I’m happy to have you here. I knew you would enjoy seeing the city from up here. I must confess that I often overlook the beauty of my surroundings. Tonight, you have brought extra beauty into my life.”
Chloe flashed her biggest smile. “That’s so sweet. Thank you for saying that. And I think you are a very handsome man, Mr. Abdallah. Very sophisticated and handsome.”
She took his left hand in her right hand, startling the Palestinian and causing him to pull away and spill some of his wine from the glass in his other hand.
“Oh, I’m so clumsy,” he said.
“No, it was my fault. I shouldn’t be so forward but you’ve been very nice to me tonight. I was feeling sad and lonely and you came to my rescue,” Wilkerson commented softly, moving closer to him. “You were my knight in shining armor.”
Before Bamya realized it, she had leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Chloe saw his eyes light up with desire and knew that she had him. She stepped back but kept her hand lightly on his chest. Wilkerson sat the glass down on an end table without sampling it. She wasn’t going to take the chance that the terrorist might have spiked it.
“You know what I’d really like to do?”
Abdallah gulped down the rest of his wine before answering with a quivering voice. “Please tell me. What would you like to do?”
“Well actually, there are two things that I’d like to do with you, my handsome prince. The first one is I’d like to go up on the roof.”
“The roof?” he questioned, a surprised look on his face. “Why do you want to go there? It will be very windy and cold.”
“Just for a few minutes? I can’t take any pictures out your windows because of the glare. Take me up to the roof and let me snap some photos and then we can do the second thing that I want to do with you in your bedroom.”
As the couple got into the elevator for their trip to the top of the building, Bamya was enjoying the pleasant buzz that the beer and wine had provided. He only hoped that it didn’t hinder him from performing later. A trip to the roof and the cold breeze might actually help him sober up a little bit.
It had been many years since Abdallah had been this enthralled with a woman. His ex-wife had been a bore and unresponsive to his needs so he had divorced her a decade earlier. Prostitutes or the occasional fling had served him well. Tonight, however, was different. Angela made him feel like a man. In a few minutes, I’ll make her feel like a woman, he smiled to himself. Bamya knew that Allah was rewarding him for all the sacrifices he had made for the cause.
When the elevator doors opened, the chilly wind hit them in the face. Undeterred, Angela grabbed Abdallah’s hand and led him onto the roof. A five-foot security wall ran around the building to keep people from accidentally slipping over the edge. Tables and chairs were spread around for the residents to enjoy during warmer parts of the year.
“I can’t see anything with that wall!” she said, clearly disappointed, moving further towards the center of the roof before stopping and pointing. “Is that a helicopter pad?”
“Yes, some of the residents here use Uber Copter to get to work.”
“Wow, that’s pretty cool!” Angela exclaimed, excitedly, pulling him towards the elevated landing area. “I bet I can get some great shots from up there.”
Bamya enjoyed his date’s enthusiasm, following her up the steps onto the helicopter pad. Manhattan was arrayed below them in all its magnificence. Angela was quickly snapping away with the camera on her cell phone. After several minutes she replaced the phone in her purse and turned towards him.
“Thank you so much, Abdallah. This was exactly what I was hoping for.”
As she stepped closer, Bamya wrapped his arms around her, breathing in her perfume. As Angela tilted her face up for a kiss, Abdallah leaned in to meet her lips. Suddenly, the terrorist felt a stinging sensation on the left side of his neck, followed by the burn of something being injected into his bloodstream.
He immediately tried to push the woman away but her strength was too much for him. The drug was already working and Bamya felt his legs getting weak.
“What…what did you do?” he stammered.
“Just a little something to help you relax, love. I have some friends who want to talk with you.”
Sudden fear sent a last burst of adrenaline through Abdallah and he attempted to step backwards. Angela stepped with him and hooked his leg with hers, tripping him. The Palestinian landed hard on his back, Chloe on top of him, knocking the breath out of his lungs. The exertion only sped up the reaction of the drugs in his system. The leader of the Brotherhood was now unconscious.
Wilkerson rolled the man onto his stomach and secured his hands behind his back with metal handcuffs she retrieved from her purse. She put the top back onto the ball point pen that had been converted into a syringe. The heavy dose of Rohypnol, combined with the alcohol in his system, was having the perfect effect on Abdallah.
Her purse contained a hidden compartment that held a taser, a 9mm Glock model 43 pistol, and her earpiece, which she quickly affixed to her ear.
“The package is ready for pickup. ETA?”
“We’re five minutes out,” Andy’s voice crackled in her ear. “Good work.”
“10-4,” Wilkerson transmitted to her team. “I’m gonna go lock open the elevator door so we don’t have any unwanted guests.”
“After you do that, see if you can find the switch to light up that landing pad,” Fleming requested.
She hurried down the stairs, grabbing a metal chair from the closest table to the elevator. The chair would keep the door from closing, preventing it from being used. In her exertion, though, Chloe didn’t notice the numbers rising as the lift steadily climbed towards her position.
Just as she pushed the button to retrieve the car, the door opened to reveal a scowling Nassar, suspicion etched on his face.
“What are you doing?” he demanded in halting English. “Where is Abdallah?”
“Oh, he’s over there waiting on me,” Wilkerson managed to say, pointing her thumb towards the helipad.
Chloe was taken off-guard by the man’s sudden appearance. Nassar sensed that something was wrong but glanced in the direction the woman was pointing. At the same time, he swept his jacket back with his right hand, reaching for the pistol on his hip.
The momentary look away was all Wilkerson needed. She fired a open palm strike at Nassar’s nose. He attempted to pull away, but the heel of her hand smashed into the point of his chin, snapping his head back and rendering him momentarily unconscious. The bodyguard dropped to his knees just inside the elevator door.
The powerfully built woman launched a knee at the downed man’s face but he managed to get his arms up just enough to deflect the blow. Nassar grabbed at Chloe’s right leg in an attempt to take her down. In turn, however, the bodyguard’s thick neck was wide open.
In Chloe’s training with Chuck, he had emphasized simple techniques to dominate an opponent. McCain had worked with her on both the palm strike and the knee attack. He had also taught her two chokes, a rear naked and a front guillotine.
Nassar fell into the latter choke and Chloe wrapped her right arm under his throat and began to squeeze, at the same time locking her palms togethe
r and pulling up on the bodyguard’s head. As the blood flow to his brain was constricted, Nassar threw a right fist that caught her under the left eye. The gold pinky ring the thug wore opened a cut on Chloe’s cheek.
As her muscular arms continued to choke him, the bodyguard tried to stand but she stepped backwards while maintaining the guillotine, dropping him back to his knees. In desperation, he punched her again but was rapidly losing his strength. Wilkerson felt her arms burning with the exertion but willed herself not to let go.
Nassar reached up, grabbing at her face but she turned away, suddenly screaming out in pain as he managed to get ahold of her left hoop earring and rip it from her ear.
“You son-of-a bitch!” she exclaimed, continuing to squeeze with all of her strength.
His right hand was now clawing at her blouse, the material ripping as he used his remaining strength in a last-ditch attempt to get free. And then it was over. The Palestinian went limp in her arms. Instead of releasing the choke, though, she slowly counted to thirty, the pain in her arms excruciating. She couldn’t take a chance on this bastard waking back up. This needed to be a permanent sleep.
Chloe was suddenly aware of the voice in her ear. “Team leader to Two, status check? Backup team’s enroute, ETA of bird is one minute.”
“I’m OK. Cancel the backup team. We’ll have one more for transport,” she answered, breathing hard, finally releasing the guillotine and letting the now dead Nassar drop to his face.
Chuck and the rest of the team had heard Chloe take down Abdallah. McCain, Andy, and Joey had taken off and were on the way, flying up the East River for a mile before turning inland for the three-block trip to the Empire Luxury Apartments. They had all breathed a sigh of relief after she had checked in to let them know that she was ready to be picked up.
