by Nancy Mehl
THIRTY-SEVEN
On instinct, E.J. started to stand up, but Sam looked at him and frowned. Although E.J. wasn’t sure he should stand down, he decided to wait.
“What’s the matter, boss?” Sam asked calmly.
“Don’t talk to them. What are you saying? Are you talking about me?”
“Of course not, boss. I told them to hurry up. I don’t want to be out here any longer than I have to.”
“I told you to keep them alive,” Mattan yelled, his face pale and shiny with sweat. “Not sit out here and have a party.”
Sam shrugged. “I was just keeping my eye on them. If you want me to take their food away, just say so. It’s no skin off my nose. I was only doing what you told me to do, boss.”
Mattan stared at him for a few seconds, then slowly lowered his gun. “Just make them hurry up. Five more minutes. That’s it.” He walked quickly back to the office.
“Wow, you’re right,” E.J. said under his breath. “He’s really losing it.”
Sam nodded. “I don’t see it getting any better either.”
“Is he still planning to take me to D.C.?” Valerie asked. “I mean, I assume the grand jury won’t meet since Senator Warren is dead.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were aware of that,” Sam said. “I honestly don’t have any idea.” He looked at E.J. “How close do you think your people are to finding you?”
“Trust me, they know we’re in trouble, especially after our widely filmed escapade on the highway.” E.J. took another bite of his sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. “Sam, if Mattan goes completely off his nut and decides to start killing everyone, will you be able to take him down?”
“I doubt it. You know that big burly guy? The one you met when you got here?”
“Yeah?”
“His name’s Waseem Bati. He’s served Al-Saud for years. The man is completely sold out to the Al-Saud family. There’s no way to reason with him—no way to turn him. He doesn’t trust anyone. Especially me.”
“Did you do something to make him suspicious?”
“Sure, I’m American, and he’s of the opinion we’re all devils. He fought Mattan tooth and nail when he asked me to join his happy little band of terrorists, but Waseem backed off when Mattan put his foot down. He wanted the cash and weapons I used to buy my way in.”
“What?”
Sam nodded. “Donated by the U.S. government for this operation.” He glanced back toward the office. “There are two other longtime Al-Saud men here I don’t trust. I don’t know their real names. One of them, the guy who brought you in, is nicknamed Butch. The other man’s called Mouse. I have no idea why. He’s certainly not timid. There are three others too who came on only recently, but I’m pretty sure they’re all going to bail. They’ve been talking among themselves. I don’t think they’re willing to wait until Mattan finally melts down. If they go, I might have a chance of shutting Mattan down. Of course, with Waseem watching my every move, it’s almost impossible.”
“So what should we do?” E.J. asked. “Just wait here like sitting ducks?”
“No. If Mattan decides to get rid of you, I’ll go after him, but Waseem will shoot me without blinking an eye. If we get into a struggle and you can do anything to neutralize Waseem, go for it.” He shook his head. “I know I’m not building much confidence in you all, but I promise to do everything I can to get you out of here in one piece.”
“You keep saying that, but this sounds more like bravado than reality,” Casey said.
“Nah, that’s just commitment,” E.J. said, nodding at Sam. “I understand, brother. But please be careful. We want you to make it out of here too.”
The door to the office flew open, and Mattan screamed something at them. Sam waved his hand at him. “You got it, boss,” he called back. He looked at E.J. “Sorry. Gotta tie you up again. I’ll leave you as loose as I can. If someone else checks on you, make it look legit.”
Casey took another pill from her pocket and stuck it in her mouth. “Okay,” she said. “I’m ready.”
“Hey, those things are strong,” Sam said. “I know I said they wouldn’t hurt you, but don’t overdo it.”
“I won’t. But I have to be able to function if we get the chance to escape.”
“Please don’t get yourself caught, Sam,” E.J. warned again. “If you get killed, you’ll be no help to us.”
Sam winked. “Thanks. Glad to hear you’ve got my best interests at heart.”
E.J. quickly wolfed down the rest of his sandwich while Sam tied up the women. Then he put his hands behind his chair as Sam loosely wrapped the plastic line around his wrists.
Sam collected the remnants of their meal, threw it all in the trash, pushed the table back to where he’d found it and walked away.
E.J., Casey, and Valerie were left alone with their thoughts again. Sam’s words made it clear their lives were in real danger. The enemy they faced was a psychopath who was capable of just about anything. It was almost impossible to come up with a plan of escape when dealing with someone as unstable as Ben Mattan.
After another hour, E.J. began to worry. He couldn’t see Sam with the other men in the office. E.J. prayed he was okay and that Mattan wouldn’t hurt him. E.J. kept working on the ties around his wrists. Thanks to Sam, E. J. was certain he’d be able to free himself. He still had the scissors in his pocket. Given the chance, he could also free Valerie and Casey. At this point, it was the only thing he could think of that might get them out of the warehouse.
Another door in the back opened, and several men came out. They were moving quickly, heading for the front door. They didn’t even bother to look at Mattan’s three hostages. Seconds later, E.J. heard a car start and then peel out of the alley. Then the door to the office opened, and the big man, Waseem Bati, came stomping out. He reminded E.J. of a huge bull. He always looked angry, and he seemed especially irritated now. Throwing open the door the other men had just gone through, he stepped out into the alley and stared toward the direction the car had gone.
Sam came running out of the back. As he approached Waseem, he asked, “Did they leave?”
Waseem stopped and glared at Sam, not bothering to respond to his question, before huffing and walking past him. Sam watched as Waseem stomped away. He rolled his eyes as he looked at E.J. He’d just begun to head back to the office when Mattan came out—charging straight at Sam.
E.J. fought hard against his bonds, trying to wiggle out of them so he could help Sam if he needed it. But there wasn’t time. Mattan rushed up to Sam and got right in his face. “Where are you going? Are you leaving too?”
Sam shook his head. “Of course not, boss. I was trying to stop them. You should know me better than that by now.”
“Waseem tells me you can’t be trusted. Is he right?”
“No, boss. He’s not right. You can trust me.”
Mattan took his gun out of its holster and stuck it in Sam’s face. E.J. was afraid he was going to pull the trigger, but he didn’t. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, he lowered the gun and walked over to where they all sat.
“Maybe I’ll shoot one of you,” he said, putting the gun next to Casey’s head. “I don’t really need you, you know. These two are supposed to go to D.C.” He waved the gun at Valerie and E.J. “But you’re nothing to me.” He leaned down, his ugly face right next to Casey’s. “Why should I let you live?”
As Mattan clicked off the safety, E.J. decided to jump up even though he was still tied to the chair. He couldn’t sit here and watch Casey die. But before he could do anything, Sam whispered something in Mattan’s ear. He hesitated a moment, and then a slow smile spread across his disfigured face.
“Good point, Ace,” Mattan said. “Thanks. Maybe you’re on my side after all.” He slapped Sam on the back before sliding the gun back in its holster. He leaned in close to Sam. “I have an idea. You, me, and Waseem can carry it off. It’ll take care of my father’s problems for good. Wait until you hear it. You’ll
love it!”
“Sure, boss,” he said. “Let me give these people some water and then I’ll be right with you. If you have plans for them, we’d better keep them alive.”
Mattan stepped back and gazed at Sam for a moment, as if studying him. “I . . . I guess that makes sense. But don’t let me down, Ace. I mean it.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, boss. I’ll never let you down.” Sam smiled at Mattan, who finally seemed mollified.
As Mattan walked away, muttering to himself, Sam came up next to E.J. “See what I mean?” he said in a low voice. “Those other guys left because they knew things are going south.”
“No chance Waseem will abandon ship too?” E.J. asked.
“Never. Like I said, he doesn’t waver. He’s a machine. I’ve never seen him express feelings or thoughts. He’s committed to Al-Saud; he’d rather die than turn his back on him. I don’t know if he’s truly loyal to Ben or if his real job is to keep an eye on him. In a way, he’s even more dangerous than Ben.”
Sam went over to the pop machine, pulled out a bottle of water, and came back. He carried the bottle to each person, letting them take a drink. When he reached E.J., he refused the water.
“Sam, I need you to get the scissors out of my pocket. Cut this line. I’ll keep my hands together, but I don’t want to be useless if Mattan points a gun at us again. Please.”
Sam hesitated. “If they come out here to check on you, it could get us all killed. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“But like you said, he’s losing it. We need a shot at survival if things go wrong.”
“Here, take a drink. Let me think about it.”
E.J. took several gulps of water and wished it could be more.
“Okay,” Sam said finally. “You’re right. If Mattan starts shooting, you need a way out.” He slid his hand into E.J.’s pocket and took out the scissors. Then, making a show of checking that they were still securely tied up, he cut the line around E.J.’s wrists. “I can’t do this for anyone else. It has to look like you got free by yourself, in case you get caught.”
“I understand. Thanks.”
Sam carefully put the scissors back in E.J.’s pocket before returning to the office.
“Well, at least now we have a chance,” E.J. said to the women. “I’m not going to let that nut shoot you.”
Casey grunted. “Maybe I’m not going to let that nut shoot you,” she said. “Don’t be sexist.”
“I wasn’t trying to be . . .” When E.J. saw Casey’s face, he realized she wasn’t serious. “Not an appropriate time to crack jokes,” he said.
“Sorry. But I’m not completely kidding. You’re not in this alone, you know. I might not be at my best, but don’t rule me out.”
E.J. looked at her in confusion. “I wasn’t—” He stopped and thought for a moment. “Okay, maybe I was, but it’s because you’ve been shot. You’re not at your best.”
“It hurts, sure, but I’m not incapacitated.”
E.J. nodded. “Fair enough.”
Casey was getting ready to say something else when Mattan came storming out of his office again. Ace was close behind him, trying to keep up.
“You!” Mattan said to Valerie, pointing at her. “You will go to Washington tomorrow. Together we will give the FBI exactly what they deserve.” He glared at E.J. “And you will call your bosses and tell them to meet you and Ms. Bennett outside FBI headquarters at ten in the morning. Do you understand?” Without waiting for a reply, Mattan said to Sam, “Bring him to the office. Now.”
Sam stepped behind E.J. with a large knife and pretended to cut his bonds. He grabbed E.J. by the arm. “Come with me,” he said gruffly.
E.J. noticed that Sam quickly slid the knife into the waistband of his pants, most likely thinking Mattan was too strung out to notice. E.J. shot a look Casey’s way before Sam pushed him forward. He saw the fear in her eyes. She was probably wondering the same thing he was. Did Mattan really want E.J. to make a call, or was the man planning to kill him?
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
E.J. was led into the sparse office and pushed down onto an old padded leather chair in front of a wooden desk peppered with cigarette burns. It was obvious cigarettes weren’t the only thing being smoked. The air was thick with the smell of marijuana. Mattan seemed to be mixing his drugs in dangerous proportions.
Sam stood next to E.J. as Mattan plopped himself down behind the desk. E.J. was thinking about jumping over the desk and grabbing Mattan by the throat when he noticed Waseem Bati standing a few feet away, a gun trained on him. Sam’s words about the man slipped into E.J.’s mind. Bati’s face was like carved stone. No spark of humanity in his eyes. As Sam had said, the man was a machine.
“You’re going to call your boss,” Mattan said, “and we’ll be listening. So no funny business. If you say or do anything we don’t like, you’ll die.”
“What is it you want me to say?” E.J. asked.
“You and Ms. Bennett will meet the FBI in front of their headquarters at ten in the morning. By the main doors. That’s when you will hand Ms. Bennett over to them. That’s all that needs to be said. If you add anything else, I’ll kill both you and Ms. Bennett. And your pretty girlfriend too. You’ll be of no use to me anymore. Do you understand?”
E.J. nodded.
Mattan handed him a phone. “Put it on speakerphone.”
“It’s very late. My boss isn’t at work.”
Mattan got up from the desk and walked over to E.J.’s chair. He slapped him hard across the face. “This is what I’m talking about. No lying. No manipulation. I know you can reach your boss. Do it now.”
E.J. dialed his boss’s number. As Mattan had guessed, reaching him wasn’t difficult.
“Claypool here,” a deep voice said.
“Hey, Chief. It’s Deputy Queen.”
“Queen, where in the world are you?”
“Just been keeping my head down, Chief.” There was a brief pause, and E.J. prayed that Claypool would understand. He had no idea if the new chief knew about the code he and Casey had come up with, but it was all he could think to do.
“Actually, I was informed by St. Louis that I might not hear from you right away. I take it everything’s okay?”
E.J. almost felt faint with relief. “Yeah, we’re good. I need to deliver Valerie Bennett to the Feds tomorrow in D.C. Can I meet you and the FBI in front of their headquarters at ten o’clock in the morning? I’ll hand her over then.”
E.J. knew what a ridiculous request this was. If he hadn’t tipped Claypool off, he would have come unglued.
“Sounds good. Anyone else with you?”
“No. I’m sending the Marshals from St. Louis on home.”
“All right. Anything else I need to know, Queen?”
“No. I believe I’ve given you all the pertinent information.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Right. Thanks, Chief.”
E.J. hung up the phone and handed it to Mattan. He wished the call had happened during the day. If he’d phoned Claypool at work, they could have traced the call. But on the chief’s personal cell at night, if Mattan’s phone was protected, there wasn’t time for Claypool to locate them before ten. At least Claypool had responded correctly. He had to know it was a trap. They would be ready tomorrow. Now it was all in God’s hands. There wasn’t much else E.J. could do.
“Good job, Deputy Queen. I guess I’ll let you live.” Mattan’s pupils were huge, and a little drool ran down the side of his mouth.
“Take him back,” Mattan ordered Sam. “Then bring Ms. Bennett. We must prepare.” He nodded at Waseem. “Go with them. I don’t want any of them out of your sight. Is that clear?” Waseem only nodded.
“Hey, boss,” Sam said with a frown, “you can trust me—I don’t need Goliath here following me everywhere I go.”
Mattan stood, his eyes glazed and hard. “Waseem is the only person I trust with my life. He would never
betray my father—or me. I don’t know you that well, and you’re always trying to help these people. Like you care about them or something.”
“I was just trying to keep them alive for you. That was my only concern.”
“Really?” Mattan reached over and took a gun out of his drawer, then walked around the desk. “Shoot him,” he said, nodding toward E.J. “Shoot him in the head.”
“Sure.”
E.J. remained still while Sam put the gun to his head. Was he really going to fire? E.J. was horrified when he heard the trigger click. But nothing happened. Sam pulled the trigger again. Nothing.
Sam checked the gun. “Hey, there’s no clip in this gun,” he said. “Load it and give it back to me, and I’ll kill him. Anything for you, boss.”
Mattan’s low laugh gave E.J. chills. “That’s okay, Ace. We need him for tomorrow. You take him back out there and tie him up. Then bring that reporter to me.”
Sam yanked E.J. to his feet. “Let’s go,” he said gruffly.
As he pushed E.J. out the door, Waseem followed them. Obviously, even though Sam had passed the test, Mattan was still paranoid. There was no way to get rid of Waseem. For now, all E.J. could do was go back to the chair where he’d already sat for hours. Sam had to tie him up again.
Waseem stood back several yards, watching. While Sam wrapped the fishing line around E.J.’s wrists, he whispered, “I knew the gun was empty. If I can take down King Kong back there, I’ll come for you soon. If not, we might have to go to D.C.”
E.J. shook his head slightly. “No, don’t fight going to D.C.,” he whispered back. “Trust me on that.”
Although he couldn’t risk trying to explain to Sam with Waseem standing guard, keeping that appointment tomorrow was their best chance at bringing all this to an end and getting out alive. That was worth any inconvenience they might have to endure at the moment.
After securing E.J., Sam went over to Valerie. He took out his knife and cut her bonds. “You have to come with me. The boss wants to see you.”
Valerie appeared frightened as Sam led her away. Casey and E.J. stared at each other. What did Mattan have planned now?