The Watchman of Ephraim (Book Club Edition)

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The Watchman of Ephraim (Book Club Edition) Page 11

by Gerard de Marigny


  “I do trust you Michelle, make it happen.”

  “Thanks Captain, sorry if I sounded testy there.”

  “Not a problem, get back to your July 4th festivities. Where are you, anyway?”

  “I’m by my sister’s house in Richmond. Hey, tell Johnny-F that Big Brother did its job; double-B even sent me a text message to my cell when it found the dirt on the warehouse.”

  “Will do, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Happy 4th, Michelle and thanks for the head’s up,” De Niro added.

  “No problem Cris, same to you.”

  De Niro hit the disconnect button. As soon as he did, Ricci spoke up.

  “What do ya think?”

  “I don’t know. If it is something … it may be something we need to worry about. According to DHS, the cartels supposedly are only charging about 25 grand-per to smuggle a foreign alien over the border. So, if that’s a payment to smuggle bad guys into the U.S. that would pay for an army of them. Or else—“

  Ricci finished his sentence, “Or else that’s not all they’re paying to smuggle in. Michelle’s right, we need to know.”

  De Niro thought out loud, “That was odd though, one of the firms that I thought might be interested in funding the mosque, we find transferring $25 million into the account of a company suspected of having ties with a Mexican drug cartel.”

  Ricci patted De Niro on the back, “As you like to remind me Cris, sometimes God works in mysterious ways. Sometimes you set traps for mice and you snare a rat. I guess we’ll see where this leads.”

  “On both ends,” De Niro added.

  Both men got up to leave the room. Ricci opened the door but then shut it again, right before De Niro was about to walk out.

  “By the way Cris, she’s hot!”

  De Niro knew exactly who he was talking about.

  “Mugs, don’t start!”

  “I’m not starting; I’m just saying … she’s hot!”

  De Niro opened the door and spoke over his shoulder as he walked out.

  “Coming from a guy that’s dating a girl with a stage name, I appreciate your opinion, Mugs.”

  Moriah was no longer at the table, by the time De Niro walked out. He looked around the pool for her and saw that everyone else was having a ball. Someone had turned the music up and everyone was singing along to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama.” Before De Niro even asked, William walked over and told him what he wanted to know.

  “Dr. Stevens walked over to the stables, sir.”

  De Niro was about to try and act uninterested, but he knew William knew him too well. So he simply replied, “Thanks William.”

  As he approached the stables, De Niro could see Martin Fierro, his head “gaucho,” standing at the opened gate.

  “¿Que pasa, Martin…?”

  Martin replied in English. He was practicing English with William and was proud of his progress.

  “The señora took Beauty out for a ride. I told her I go with her but she say not to bother, she just go down the path and back. Here she comes!”

  Both men watched as the beautiful lady came trotting up the path, her blond hair in total contrast to Beauty’s jet-black mane and body. As she approached she reined the powerful animal into a graceful sidestep.

  De Niro thought out loud, “She can ride, can’t she …”

  He wasn’t expecting a reply, but Martin stepped up next to him.

  “Si, señor, she rides like the Chinitas11 back home in Argentina … except señora Moriah is a lot better looking than they are!”

  Martin winked at De Niro as Moriah stepped down from Beauty.

  “Muchas gracias Martin, Beauty lives up to her name!”

  “De nada, doctora, you are welcome to ride Beauty, anytime.”

  Martin led Beauty back into the stable as Moriah walked up to De Niro.

  “I hope it was okay to take her for a ride. I couldn’t resist. She’s a beautiful animal.”

  “Hence her name,” De Niro replied with a smile on his face.

  “Martin is amazing too. You know, I think he knows more about animals than I do.”

  De Niro didn’t reply right away. For a moment he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time, but when it came to him what it was, it made him feel sick. His reply was a little obvious.

  “My wife …thought he was amazing too.”

  Moriah noticed.

  “Keith told me about … Lisa. I’m so sorry, Cris.”

  Almost 10 years had passed but De Niro’s eyes still watered at the mention of his wife. De Niro turned from her, extending his arm in the direction of the main house. Moriah started walking at his side.

  “Keith told me about your husband too. I’m very sorry, Moriah. I understand he was on the plane that struck Tower One; my wife was on the 104th floor of Tower One when the plane hit.”

  The music and laughter from everyone in and around the pool was faintly audible, contrasting the somber conversation they were having. De Niro didn’t feel much like rejoining the party, at that moment. He could tell that Moriah felt the same way.

  “Would you like to take a walk? There’s a path in the other direction that will take us to the top of one of the ranch’s larger foothills. You can see almost the whole spread when you look south and the entire Las Vegas valley if you look north, from up there.”

  Moriah looked relieved.

  “I’d love to.”

  As they walked, they talked a bit about Lisa and her husband and about the boys and her animals, but neither brought up 9/11. It took them almost a half hour to reach the summit.

  “It’s so beautiful up here, Cris! You’re right about being able to see everything. I bet we can see California from here!”

  Moriah put her hand over her eyes to act as a shade.

  From behind her, De Niro softly grabbed her by her shoulders and turned her slightly.

  “California is that way.”

  A chill went down Moriah’s spine from his touch. She hadn’t been touched that way or rather; she hadn’t reacted from being touched that way since that terrible day. She stiffened just enough for De Niro to notice.

  De Niro backed away. When he did, Moriah turned and walked up so close to him that the tips of their noses almost touched.

  Neither said a word for what seemed like an eternity. Finally De Niro stepped back and pointed in the direction of the Strip.

  “You have to see the Strip from up here at night, it’s an amazing sight.”

  Moriah tried to identify the feelings she had, from De Niro backing away from her. She finally realized it was disappointment. She was so used to being pursued that she was completely unaccustomed to someone backing away, especially when she wasn’t putting up any resistance. It occurred to her in that moment that she hadn’t even felt that way with her husband, because he also had come onto her when they first met. It was too much to think about all at once so she decided to try and cool down and lighten up.

  Doing her best Mae West impression, she smiled and replied, “You want me to come up and … see it sometime?”

  De Niro stood silently for a moment, which sent a wave of embarrassment over Moriah.

  “Okay, I have NO IDEA where that came from.”

  De Niro started to laugh which made Moriah laugh. Their laughter grew until both of the eyes filled with tears. Nothing more about the intimacy that sparked between them but didn’t ignite needed to be said. One thing they both felt, the two had gone from strangers to friends, on that hilltop.

  “Well, how about it. How long are you staying in town?”

  “I leave tomorrow morning early. I have to be back at work by Tuesday morning.”

  “So soon …?”

  “Well, we’ve been in town since Thursday afternoon. Keith said he tried to get a hold of you since we arrived but he you weren’t around.”

  De Niro immediately felt badly. He purposely had blown Keith off expressly because he didn’t want to meet Moriah. Now he regretted th
at he had and that made him feel guilty. He decided not to share any of that with her.

  “Well, you’ll just have to come back. When can you take off again?”

  Moriah’s frustration was evident in her voice.

  “Not for awhile. I usually only take off the week leading up to September 11 and the end of the year—”

  “That’s perfect,” De Niro interjected. “Come out and stay on the ranch the week before 9/11 and you can fly back to New York with me and the boys. We attend the memorial every year.”

  Moriah hesitated.

  “Come on, you haven’t even seen a small portion of the ranch yet and you’ll get to ride Beauty again… and I bet you never have flown faster than the speed of sound.”

  De Niro’s smile was ear to ear. Moriah could tell that his intentions were pure and his friendship, sincere. She appreciated the latter, but as for the former …

  “How could I possibly pass up a chance to ride that beautiful horse again?”

  De Niro nodded with pleasure as he offered her his arm and together they started back down the path.

  “Come on, by this time, I’m sure everyone’s looking for us.”

  Catching De Niro by surprise, Moriah leaned towards him and kissed him gently on his cheek.

  “What was that for?”

  Playing coy and turning from him as only a woman can do, she replied, “That was for showing me where California is!”

  Chapter 15

  The Watchman Agency

  Office of Les Pastak – Vice President of Human Resources/General Counsel

  Arlington, Virginia

  9:45a.m., Tuesday, July 05, 2011

  Walking into his office sipping a latte he stopped to buy at Starkbucks, Pastak made a beeline to his desk. As soon as his system started up, he typed something into his Google search bar and after clicking on a few links he picked up his phone and dialed the number that appeared on his screen.

  “Hi, is this the Mercedes dealership near the Ballston Common Mall? Your sales department please… Hi, I’d like to make an appointment to come down to your showroom… tonight, around seven, if that’s okay … well, I’d like to take a look at the SLR McLaren you had showcased … yes, I’m aware of the price … Pastak, P-a-s-t-a-k … what was your name… fine Ken, I’ll see you at seven.”

  Pastak hung up his phone and spun around in his chair. He felt giddy. In fact, he felt even better than when he thought he was taking over LDC. I already have 100 thousand reasons why I should feel this good and soon I’ll have one million. All I have to do now is throw this Fard character a bone …and after all, who could that hurt? I don’t owe anyone here anything, anyway!

  He clicked on a photo of the $425,000 automobile and the interior appeared on his screen. As he leaned in closer to take a look, his intercom buzzed. Without looking away, he tapped the answer button.

  “Pastak …”

  “Les its Michelle, do you have a minute?”

  Pastak clicked on another photo of the car.

  “I’m a little tied up right now, Michelle, what’s up?”

  Wang was infuriated. … Tied up right now? Probably checking sports scores on ESPN.com!

  “Les, I need to bring you up to speed on two international ops that just got underway.”

  That caught Pastak’s attention. He closed the car dealership’s website.

  “Give me five; I’ll meet you in your office.”

  Pastak hit the disconnect button. Could it be … could I be this lucky?! Oh man, I hope it’s enough to let me keep the mil!

  Wang’s door was open but Pastak still knocked on the doorframe.

  “Come in Les, grab a seat. I just hired two new agents for intel-gathering operations. They’re agents that I’ve worked with at Langley; I know them both a long time. They’ve done some freelanced work for LDC in the past. I tried contacting you—”

  Pastak’s face turned red with anger.

  “Wait just a minute, Michelle; you don’t have the authority to hire anyone without my approval!”

  It was times like this that Wang was especially proud of her Chinese heritage. She learned how to keep her temper in check, from her parents. My dad used to say, “Hyenas laugh, baboons scream and fools raise their voices in anger.”

  She folded her hands in front of her and rested them on her desk.

  “Les, apparently you haven’t read the new SOP’s Captain Ricci put into place last week. If you had, you’d know that because of the aggressive timeline to bring the agency up to the new standards, in time-sensitive situations, all VP-level staff has been given the authority to hire, on the spot – as long as (a.) Captain Ricci and (b.) the VP of Human Resources … you … are informed within 24 hours of the hiring. I informed Captain Ricci already and I’m informing you now. The men were hired early this morning and are already in transit.”

  Pastak tried to reel back his anger. The truth was that from the moment he was told of his “new” position within the agency, he’d spent all of his time looking for another job and no time reading the new SOP’s. What am I getting so angry about? I’ll be out of here soon and driving my new convertible! Then all of these people and their reckless procedures can go to hell!

  “You’re right. I haven’t gotten around to reading them; I’ve been tied up with other things.”

  Wang decided to let that go.

  “Not a problem. As I was saying, I tried contacting you Saturday morning to let you know that I may need these two men, but I got an unavailable message from your cell. Did you turn it off Saturday morning?”

  Pastak remembered that he did turn his phone off before he met with Fard. It was against agency rules for any senior executive to turn their cell phones off, for any length of time. Normally no one would be reported for such a trivial matter, but Pastak didn’t trust any of them anymore, Michelle included.

  “Actually, my battery failed and the phone went dead. I didn’t notice it until later that morning.”

  Probably more like, you forgot to charge it, dimwit! Apology accepted!

  “Well, here are their files. Like I said, we used them both in the past, so at least we have their personal information. I’m not sure if any of it needs to be updated though.”

  Wang handed Pastak two manila files. Pastak opened them both and took a quick look at the photos attached to their dossiers. Majed Ahmed Aziz al Saud – a Saudi … and Jesus Garcia – a Mexican … If the Mexican was sent to his homeland, that would count as a western operation!

  “You said they’re both in transit. I may need to contact them to confirm their personal information, so I’ll need operational access through Big Brother.”

  Johnny-F had built in many different tiers and types of security access into Big Brother. One such type was Operational Access, which gave the user complete access to all information pertinent to a particular operation. That included all personnel information, which included GPS-tracking info on any personnel attached to the operation.

  Wang hesitated which gave Pastak his opportunity to smack her down and return the favor. He looked up from the folders.

  “Michelle, unless the new SOP changes include prohibiting the VP of HR to do his job in a timely manner, I suggest you give me op-access immediately.”

  “I just don’t understand why you can’t wait until they return to the U.S., Les.”

  “And exactly when will that be, Michelle?”

  “I can’t say exactly—”

  “Hey Michelle, how about, I don’t tell you about the new SOP’s and you don’t tell me how to do my job.”

  Wang was furious. I take it back! Its times like these that I wish I weren’t Chinese, so I could feel okay about jumping across my desk and strangling this jerk!

  Wang never felt comfortable letting anyone but essential individuals know about covert operations. She understood the need for Pastak to verify the personal info for both agents but not the urgency. She couldn’t deny though that he did have the authority to request ops-access
and unless she had a specific reason to deny such access, she had to give it to him.

  Wang typed something on her keyboard. After a moment, she looked up at him.

  “I just gave you O-A access to Operation India-Golf 070510.”

  Pastak stood up and smiled.

  “Thank you, Michelle.”

  As soon as he got back in his office, Pastak accessed the operation files on his laptop. He scanned the monitor until he found what he was looking for then he hit a new auto-dial button on his cell, one he just created.

  “Mr. Fard, its Les. I have good news. Where and when would you like to meet … okay, can we make it after say, nine tonight … I have an appointment at seven I need to keep … very good, I’ll try to get there by nine and oh, Mr. Fard, you’ll need to bring your checkbook.”

  Chapter 16

  The Foster Lafayette Hotel

  Bahman Fard’s Suite

  Washington, D.C.

  9:15p.m., Tuesday, July 05, 2011

  Pastak tucked one manila file under his arm, took the ticket from the valet and headed into the five-star hotel. He checked his watch as he stepped onto the elevator. Not bad, I made good time here. Days don’t get much better than this!

  Fard was already contacted by the front desk and informed of his impending guest, so he was standing at the door of his penthouse suite, when Pastak knocked.

  The two men shook hands as Fard closed the door behind him.

  “You have information for us?”

  “I do.”

  Fard extended his arm towards one of the plush couches.

  “Please, make yourself comfortable. May I offer you something to drink or eat?”

  “After our business, here, is done, I’ll pay for a bottle of this hotel’s best champagne, but scotch would do, for now.”

  “I’m sorry Les, but I have no alcoholic beverages to offer you. Would you like me to order you room service?”

  “That’s not necessary. I forgot you’re prohibited from drinking alcohol aren’t you. You’re Muslim, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “I’ll just have what you’re having then.”

  “I’m having tea.”

 

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