by Warren Ray
Bassett slammed in a fresh magazine, which left him with only seven. They needed to conserve their ammo if it was going to be an all-afternoon battle.
He turned to Meeks. “How many mags you got?”
Meeks patted his chest rig and counted six.
“Three-shot burst only,” said Bassett.
Meeks nodded.
They didn’t have to wait too long before the Jijis came out of the woods to the road. They started to cross the road when one of them ordered them back to the safety of the woods. These guys or at least one of them was smart enough to pull back. Now it was a waiting game to see what they would do.
Chapter 6
Washington D.C.
The limo pulled up to the entrance of the Saudi embassy and stopped at the gate. Thomas’ heart beat faster as the guard waved them through. He’d never been to Washington D.C. before, and here he was, by the side of an Ambassador’s nephew.
It had been a short drive from the airport and apart from seeing the Washington Monument in the distance; he didn’t get to see much of the city. He was surprised to see so many cars on the road and wondered if it was like this anywhere else.
The limo continued to the embassy, and he looked at the square building but wasn’t impressed as it was quite plain. He assumed the inside would be much nicer.
Mordulfah looked up at him. “You are to stay by my side and not to say anything. You’ll handle my briefcase and get me whatever I need. When we are meeting with my uncle, stand off to the side but within my view.”
“Yes, your Highness.”
They exited the limo and headed inside the massive building. The place was spacious and decorated ornately but not in a gaudy way. The blue carpet coordinated well with the gold curtains.. Oil paintings of the past kings hung on the walls. They were bordered by Saudi national flags. A couple of office workers sat off to the side dressed in western style suits. Surveillance cameras hung from every corner pointing in every direction
A representative came and ushered them into the Ambassador’s office. It was small by comparison to the foyer but comfortable. Another oil painting hung directly behind the big oak desk and was bordered on either side with a Saudi flags. The walls were beige with the same gold curtains hanging on the only window.
Thomas stepped to the side and watched as Prince Faisal warmly greeted his nephew. The elder prince was taller and heavier than Mordulfah and had followed the trend of the monarch by dying his beard black. He appeared genuinely happy to see his nephew, which made Thomas wonder what kind of relationship they had. After catching up on family, Mordulfah got down to business informing his uncle of his predicament.
“I have known about your troubles,” said Faisal.
“Of course,” said Mordulfah.
“I’ve been expecting you to ask for help. I’m actually quite surprised it has taken you this long.”
“I thought I had the problem taken care of and didn’t want to be a burden.”
Faisal shook his head. “No, my dear nephew, you didn’t want to divide up your deal with Perozzi.”
“Yes, that too.”
“Mordulfah, you are a businessman and a brilliant one at that. You have outshone your many cousins, most of whom don’t do anything but spend money,” said Faisal as he then changed the tone of his voice. “You’ve come a long way in this world, but one thing you are not is a military man.”
Mordulfah ate up the compliment but seethed at the same time. Thomas had never seen him in a subservient position before and couldn’t help but enjoy himself. Mordulfah wasn’t so confident after all and was quite thin-skinned. The man sat stiffly in the chair knowing this meeting was going to be costly.
“I have what you need and have had them ready for some time,” continued Faisal.
Mordulfah didn’t seem too surprised by this information. “How many?”
“I have five-hundred highly trained and seasoned fighters ready to go.”
“Where are they?” asked Mordulfah.
“They are nearby.”
“When can I expect them?”
“You can have them today.”
Mordulfah nodded in satisfaction.
“I’ll have you meet with their commander. He’s a colonel and knows what he is doing, so do yourself a favor and listen to him.”
Mordulfah stared at his uncle for a few moments before asking him the cost.
“Half the revenue from the North Dakota oilfields.”
Mordulfah didn’t move a muscle and continued to stare at his uncle.
“You think this is too steep a price?” asked Faisal uncomfortable with the silence.
Thomas forced himself to control his facial expression at this question. He had a degree in finance and knew a little about the art of negotiating. You never question your own demand as it showed weakness. Thomas looked over at Mordulfah who still hadn’t moved a muscle and began to appreciate his skillful handling of his uncle. He had been contrite during the whole meeting but was now a lion patiently waiting to wear down his prey.
Thomas could see Faisal grow nervous and figured he had realized the asking price was too high, to begin with. Half of the oilfield revenue would eventually be worth billions.
“Okay, I can see you think that is too much but I remind you, if you’re not able to get your situation under control, you’ll have nothing.” Faisal fidgeted slightly and continued. “Since you are my favorite nephew, I’ll go with twenty-five percent, and that is a gift.”
Thomas shifted his eyes to Mordulfah wondering when he would move.
Mordulfah didn’t flinch and took his time responding. “Is that really the best you can do?”
Faisal’s eyes darted around the room, which surprised Thomas because he had the upper hand but gave it away too willingly. Perhaps, he had a soft spot for his nephew or was just a bad negotiator. He now appeared to be more of a pleaser or perhaps, simply a diplomat.
“I’ll go twenty percent.”
“Ten percent sounds better,” said Mordulfah finally making an offer.
“Fifteen.”
Mordulfah then pounced. “Fifteen it is but for five years only, which will be worth billions and all for five hundred men.”
Faisal nodded and extended his hand.
Thomas slightly shook his head in disappointment. He wanted to yell at the elder prince to ask for ten years and couldn’t believe he hadn’t. He watched as the two men stood up to shake hands and kiss each other to seal the agreement.
Chapter 7
Chelsea Michigan
Bassett and Meeks watched as the six Jijis who had been chasing them stopped at the edge of the woods. There was a lot of open ground between them and it was an ideal kill zone.
“C’mon now,” whispered Meeks, “no one’s waiting for ya.”
“That tall one there has some experience and seems to be in charge,” said Bassett.
The tall Jiji waved his hands around and split the men into three groups. Two of the groups walked in opposite directions for fifty yards before crossing the road to start flanking their enemy.
Splitting the force was a good move, but it would weaken their attack capability if not done correctly. Not only was speed essential but also coming in without detection was also crucial.
“I want that tall one,” said Bassett.
“Shouldn’t we be backing up and take out their flanks?”
“Normally yes, but that tall one is smart and needs to be taken out. The others won’t know what to do without him.”
“Gotcha.”
“Few more seconds and he’ll get his courage up.”
They both continued to stand behind a tree. Soon an additional Jiji appeared and started forward, leaving the tall one behind safely in the bush. He had a full beard and was darting his head from side to side as he cautiously crept across the open ground.
“That tall one is smarter than we thought,” smirked Meeks.
“Bit of a wuss if you ask me,” whispered Bassett, a
s he pulled the rifle sling over his head. He laid the rifle on the ground before pulling his tactical tomahawk and blackened steel knife out.
“Poor bastard doesn’t have a chance,” said Meeks.
“Keep me covered.”
The bearded man kept his AK-47 at his side on full auto. He made it to the edge of the trees, and stopped where he stared into the woods looking for any movement. Not seeing any, he entered the woods and crept toward an awaiting Bassett.
Bassett tightened the grip on his weapons and prepared to strike. He pushed against the tree, listening as the man closed in. He took a deep breath and twisted around the tree swinging the tomahawk upwards into the pit of the arm. The move sliced through the joint and muscle, which disabled his trigger finger. Bassett then jammed the blade into the side of the neck. Blood sprayed in all directions as the bearded man collapsed to the ground dead.
Meeks pulled the corpse away before getting back into position. The tall Jiji still kept to the woods and didn’t appear to be in any hurry to put himself in danger. Bassett and Meeks didn’t have much time left before they would have the flanks closing in on them.
“C’mon, ya bastard,” said Meeks who then turned to Bassett. “Oh, ah, nice work by the way.”
Bassett gave him a firm nod.
“I think he’s gone,” said Meeks.
“Yeah, he was probably supposed to get an all-clear signal by now.”
“Okay. So what now?”
“Let’s head west. We should be able to avoid those flankers.”
Bassett led the way disappointed the tall one decided not to engage. It would now be too dangerous to go after him. Too much time had passed and more Jijis were sure to be headed their way. Bassett stayed close to the edge of the road to keep an eye on their flank. They ran another three hundred yards to where the road curved to the left. The road intersected another one, which meant they were running out of cover. They would be forced to cross the open area which would leave them exposed for seventy feet or more.
“If I remember correctly, this road intersects with another just ahead,” said Bassett.
“Roads everywhere in this damn place.”
“No kidding.”
They turned south and within a minute came to another road with an excess of exposed ground from one side to the other.
“Got no choice,” said Bassett.
“Great.”
Bassett raised his M4 to his shoulder and looked both ways before running across. Meeks followed paying attention to their six. Upon crossing safely, they let out a sigh of relief, but it didn’t last long as voices penetrated the air. They both froze. Bassett turned toward the sounds and then pointed down the dirt road to their east. The four Jijis who had separated to flank them were now walking towards them.
“Must have been frustrating not finding us,” said Meeks.
“Don’t see the tall one anywhere,” responded Bassett.
“What ya think?”
“Hate to give away our position.”
“Let them pass?” asked Meeks.
“We can go south then.”
Meeks nodded and then squatted down behind some bushes.
The Jijis conversations were loud, and they were not happy with the tall Jiji ordering them to flank the enemy while he stayed behind.
“Where the hell did he go off too anyway?” grumbled one of them.
“Right and where in the hell are these damn rebels?” asked another.
“I don’t know, but I’m gonna love stringing those bastards up.”
Meeks turned to Bassett and shook his head. Every word of this conversation was pure comedy gold. It was like listening to a bad sitcom with terrible actors. These guys had no idea what they were up against and acted accordingly. Their faux bravado would be gone in an instant if Meeks stood up. He yearned to do it but restrained himself because Bassett was right about not giving away their position.
The Jijis walked right on by and Meeks was about to stand up when more voices pierced the woods. They were coming in from behind them. Meeks turned his head and saw the tall Jiji leading an even larger group right towards them.
Chapter 8
Washington D.C.
Major Green spent all morning thinking about the voicemail Reed had left; wanting him to keep quiet about the shooting. Adding that to the way Reed had the garage cleaned up spoke volumes about him. He was a calculating man, and an attempt on his life would only expose a weakness. By pretending the shooting never happened, he could feign strength and demonstrate that no one could lay a finger on him. Implying that his men took out the shooters before it even began, like it was nothing; so don’t even bother trying it again.
Deep down though, the man must be going out of his mind with rage and fear to know that his longtime ally had tired of him. He would have to start shoring up his support and plan a counterattack on Perozzi.
Green had little doubt Perozzi was angry with Reed because of the recordings and the way he tried arresting Stormy. However, Green didn’t think that was enough to get Perozzi too riled up. Something else needed to happen to get Perozzi to act decisively against Reed. Green wanted them both fighting each other not just one of them. He wanted all their resources involved and to force everyone out in the open. Green wanted it to be the talk of the town. It was the only way to show everyone in the district that these two were vulnerable.
What would get at Perozzi? He was a proud man but was he thin skinned? He was old and liked having younger women hanging off him. He worked out and was in decent shape but still, he was old, and he knew it.
Green tapped a pencil on his desk trying to come up with something. It had to insult Perozzi but also have him think Reed had something to do with it. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to see his secretary, Grace.
“Sir, I’m going to lunch. You want me to pick up anything?”
Green remembered he had a lunch appointment with his friend Sam and waved her off. He headed outside and walked down the block to start his surveillance detection route, or SDR, he’d been using to shake off any tails that might still be following him.
Jacob Gibbs, the former FBI man, had instructed him on the trade craft, and he had employed it in his routine so often that it had become second nature.
After conducting his SDR, Green arrived at the small lunch counter where Sam was waiting. The place was crowded, and they would have to keep their conversation to a minimal.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.”
“No problem. I already ordered for ya.”
“Thanks,” said Green, sitting down.
“So, how did it go?” asked Sam as they purposely talked in vague terms.
“Better than expected.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“Our new friend did well.”
“Did she?”
Green couldn’t help but break out into a smile.
Sam noticed. “You like her, don’t cha?”
“Yeah, and once you see her you’ll know why?”
Sam leaned back on the stool and patted John on the back. “My buddy finally has taken an interest in someone. Is this a two-way street?”
“I think so, but I can’t say for sure. We haven’t exactly been in a normal situation together, so it’s hard to say.”
“What about her friend?” asked Sam referring to Kyle Gibbs.
“Just friends as far as I can tell.”
Their food arrived, and they continued with small talk while they ate. Within twenty minutes, they finished their food and headed outside away from attentive ears. As they walked through a park, Green caught Sam up on everything that had transpired. He fist-pumped the air hearing about Reed’s reaction but was most interested in Stormy’s participation in the kidnapping of Reed’s men.
“She really took down one of them?”
“Yeah, she can handle herself.”
“And she smart
-mouthed Reed?”
Green nodded.
“Wow, John, I’m totally intrigued by this girl. I cannot wait to meet her.”
Green raised an eyebrow, which Sam noticed.
“Oh don’t worry I won’t make any moves on her. I promise.”
“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“John, that hurts. I wouldn’t do that to my friend. Besides, I’ve got this other girl that I’ve started dating.”
“Which one is this?”
“Oh, someone new. You don’t know her, but I think this is the one. We really have a connection.”
Green shook his head at Sam who either didn’t like being tied down or just hadn’t found the right girl. “Can’t wait to meet her.”
“Hey, if you want to, I’ll see if we can double date.”
“Double date? I don’t even know if Stormy likes me yet.”
“All the more reason to get out on a double date. I’ll tell ya if she likes ya. Just leave it to me.”
Green shook his head knowing Sam can be overzealous with women.
They exited the park and passed by a bus stop where Green noticed a small poster pasted on the side of the shelter. He walked over to it and saw it advertised a band.
Sam came up from behind him. “You into this kind of music, John?”
“No, I’m not but look at this poster,” said Green running his hand up and down on the poster.
“What about it?”
“It’s really glued on there good.”
“And?”
“We don’t see a lot of graffiti in the district do we?”
“No, we don’t.”
“They don’t dare with the way things are.”
“Yeah, they’ll get thrown in jail,” said Sam noticing the smile growing on Green’s face. “I know that look, John. Whaddya got in mind?”