by Mac Fortner
“We were going to ask you the same thing. Don’t you know?”
“No, all I know is he was hiding from you. You’ll never find him.”
“Yes we will, and you better hope it is before Sheriff Buck does.”
“Buck. What’s he got to do with anything?”
“He is planning an attack on the United States. We think we know where but we’re not sure. Right now, he thinks he is safe and that Cam is the only one who knows what he is planning to do. That’s why we wanted to bring Cam in. It was for his own protection.”
“How do you know all this?”
“We have an agent working close to Buck. Her name is Robin Anderson. You know her as Jenny Jacobs.”
“Jenny is an FBI agent?”
“Yes, she is, and I hope she can protect Cam. It won’t be easy if Buck has him. Jenny might have to make a choice between Cam and a base full of a thousand Marines.”
Chapter 73
Amar Mustafa and Kasim Maliki, Amar’s brother-in-law, entered the warehouse on Miami’s Little West River. Three men appeared from behind wooden crates, stacked to one side. They pointed their machine guns at the two men.
A fourth man walked into view from a darkened corner.
“Amar, it is good to see you. You are right on time.”
“Good afternoon, Mister Simmons,” Amar said.
“The bomb is ready; do you have the money?”
“Yes, we have the money.”
“Good, I will take it now,” Simmons said.
“It is close by. You will get it when I get the bomb,” Amar said.
“You don’t trust me,” the man said and laughed.
“Why would I trust a man who builds a bomb and asks no questions as to what it will be used for, then raises the price after we had a deal.”
“I could just kill you, you know,” Simmons said.
“Then all you would have is a bomb and nothing to blow up.”
The man went silent for a moment but then said, “Very well. Come with me.”
He turned and walked back into the shadows and opened a door. They entered a dark room, and he closed the door behind them. He flipped a switch, and the room lit up.
At its center stood a large table. On it was a package, about three feet square. There were wires protruding from inside, running to a box taped to the exterior.
“That is your receiver,” Simmons said, pointing to the exterior box. “Your cell phone is your sending unit,” he said, handing Amar a phone number. “It works like the smaller bomb I gave you earlier. Just dial that number and hit send.” He held his hands up and said, “Boom.”
“Is it safe to transport?” Amar asked.
“How far are you planning to go with it?”
“All the way to Virginia,” Amar said.
“Virginia?”
“Yes, is that a problem?”
“I could have made it for you in Virginia, but Juba said to make it here. It is very dangerous to travel that far with a bomb this size. That transmitter is not exclusive. This device can be triggered from any phone using that number.”
“Then we had better hope we don’t receive a wrong number,” Amar said.
He turned to Kasim. “Go get the gentlemen their money. Would you and the other gentlemen please escort Kasim to get it?” he directed at Simmons. “I will lock the door behind us.”
“You’re one crazy son of a bitch,” Simmons said to Amar.
Amar followed them out of the room. The other three joined them, and together they walked to the door leading out to the parking lot. Before they could open it, Amar pulled his forty-five-caliber grease gun from under his robe and shot Simmons in the back. One of the men turned and started to raise his gun. Amar shot him in the head. A crimson spray covered the other two men, and they threw their arms up to protect their faces from the blood. Amar took the opportunity to shoot each of them in a short barrage of gunfire.
“I told you, Kasim, that I would kill them for raising the price,” Amar said. “Now, let’s roll the bomb to the van and get it loaded. We have to be at Miami Beach Mariana tomorrow to load it on the boat for Virginia.”
Chapter 74
Commander Bosse called Sargent Ted Trueblood into his office. They were going to have to be ready for an attack even if the chances of it happening were slim.
Trueblood entered the room and saluted. Bosse returned it half-heartedly and told Ted to sit.
“We have a problem,” Bosse said. “It’s William Buck. He has a bomb—a large bomb. The FBI called and said they think his target is Quantico. He vowed revenge, and now I’m afraid he might try to get it.”
“Why don’t they just arrest him?”
“They don’t have any proof yet that he is involved with the bomb. But guess who is supposedly picking it up as we speak?”
Trueblood stared at Bosse, blankly.
“Amar Mustafa,” Bosse said.
“Amar? You mean they are still together?”
“Looks that way. I thought we had Amar convinced Buck was the one who killed his daughter, but I guess Buck convinced him otherwise.”
“It’s on record that Buck was the main suspect in the killing.”
“The records don’t mean a thing to a terrorist like Amar.”
“He wasn’t a terrorist until we killed his daughter,” Trueblood said.
Bosse slammed his fist down on the desk. “I told you to never say we did that. Not even in private.”
“Sorry, Sir.”
Bosse sat back in his chair and tented his hands under his chin. “I have a mission for you,” he said. “I want you to go find Buck before the FBI does. He needs to be silenced. It’s for the good of the country. If he blows up Quantico and tells the world why, thousands of Marines could be killed, and we would be exposed. That would make us responsible for the attack.”
“Silenced?” Trueblood said.
“Get your rifle. You’re a sniper and a damn good one. Consider it a mission of national defense.”
“Yes, Sir,” Trueblood said, snapping to attention and saluting.
“I’ll have a plane ready for you in one hour. He is in Key West. There will be a car waiting for you there. Good luck,” Bosse said, standing.
Trueblood saluted him again. “I won’t let you down, Sir.”
“I know you won’t. You’re a Marine.”
Chapter 75
I was led to the bedroom and cuffed to the headboard. The fight that I felt in my blood only moments ago had now gone. I felt defeated. All I had been working for for the last five years came down to one conclusion. I had been feeding the man responsible all the information I had gathered. I felt like a fool.
And now, I had even been tricked by the girl I thought I was falling in love with. Why was a girl like Jenny tied to a man like Buck?
I lay on the bed, thinking about all the bad things that had happened to me when I realized that what I should be thinking about was escape and survival.
I looked around the room, taking in all the pertinent details. The walls were bare but for the dingy squares around where pictures had once hung. There was a nightstand next to the bed. On it sat a single plastic bottle of water. A double light bulb ceiling fixture with glass shades, meant to resemble tulips, hung from the center of the room. One bulb was burned out, the other was probably a forty watt, I surmised by the dim glare it made on the green walls.
Other than that, the room was empty. The rugs had been removed, evident from the faded rectangles on the floor. The curtains were pulled shut, and glimpses of blinds were faintly visible behind them.
My thoughts turned to how poorly the room was decorated. Buck had lived here for ten years and hadn’t taken the time to fix the place up, then I came to my senses again. The room had been emptied for me. It was the perfect prison.
I pulled at my restraints only to verify what I had already concluded. They weren’t going to budge.
Only one hand and one leg were cuffed. I could reach my wate
r, and I could turn over in bed. Very nice, I thought, I wouldn’t die of thirst or get bed sores.
Turning and looking at the metal headboard, I could see scratches in the finish on the other side. Someone else had been cuffed to the bed at one time or another. The bad part was that I had never heard of anyone claiming to be imprisoned here. That meant whoever had been here was most likely dead.
I heard the door rattle and open. Buck entered the room. He was dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt. I realized it was the first time I had seen him in anything other than his uniform.
For the first time also I realized how muscular he was. His arms tugged at the seams in the t-shirt. The fabric stretched to the point where it seemed the blood flow would be cut off.
He didn’t look like the comforting public official. He looked like a prize-fighter you might have nightmares about meeting in a dark alley.
“Cam,” he said, “are you comfortable?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I’m not. I would like a Wild Turkey and an M16.”
“The Wild Turkey I will bring you shortly. The M16…”
“Okay, I’ll take the Wild Turkey.”
“I guess you are wondering why I have done what I have done. I know we will never be friends again, but I will miss you nevertheless,” Buck said as if we were old friends parting due to other obligations.
“Willie, you are a sick son of a bitch. How could you kill all those innocent people just to take their boats and sell them?”
“It was a perfect opportunity. Bill and Susan, with the help of John Trapper, already had the scam set up. I stumbled upon it while investigating a boat theft. I cut myself in, and the rest is history.”
“Were they killing before you came along?”
“No, that was my idea. It helped me get in the mood for the big strike,” Buck said with a childlike edge to his voice, almost giddy.
“Quantico?” I said.
“Yes, at first, but when I read about the president being in Miami Beach this week, I changed my plan. I will get the Marines at Quantico next time.”
“You’re going to assassinate the president?”
“Yeah, I thought I would.”
“Does Jenny know this?”
“Cam, you’re such a softy. Face it, Jenny is a bad person. She doesn’t care who is getting killed as long as she gets paid. Who do you think killed your partner, Jack?”
“Jenny killed Jack?”
“Yes, she did and then she killed Ronnie Pierce a moment later. She threw them both over the side of her boat, tied to concrete blocks. A woman who would do that has a hard heart, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess she does. But so do you.”
“I didn’t always, but first the Marine Corps taught me to kill from a distance so I wouldn’t become involved with the targets. Then they killed the woman I loved so I wouldn’t become attached to any of the common people in Iraq. Then, when I realized they were the ones who’d done it, they turned the blame on me. I hate the Marine Corps. Now I have the chance to kill the Commander and Chief. I have to do it. It’s like karma.”
“How are you going to kill the Marines responsible for your girlfriend’s death if you die killing the president?”
“I changed my mind about dying this time. Amar will be sacrificed for the president.”
“But if Amar is in this to revenge his daughter, why would he die now before the ones responsible are punished?”
“I didn’t tell him. I do feel bad about that, but I will have his revenge for him.”
“So, what will you do?”
“I’m going to retire a hero in Iraq with a lot of money.”
“Will Jenny die in your little plan?”
“You ask too many questions. None of this really concerns you,” Buck said, changing his tone from conversational to confrontational.
“One more thing before you go,” I said.
“Sure, what is it?”
“Did you kill Malinda?”
“No, I swear to you on my mother’s grave I did not have anything to do with that. I never did find who killed her other than the drug cartel from Mexico. When her boat was found in the Bahamas, I traced it to a drug delivery from Playa Del Carmen.”
Strangely, I believed him.
~*~
Buck said, “Let’s go, Jenny. We need to go to your house and get anything you will want to keep, then to my office for my records.”
“Give me a minute,” she said. “I need to use the restroom.”
Jenny went into the bathroom and locked the door. She took her cell phone from her pocket and texted Sanchez, telling him of the latest development.
Chapter 76
Amar and Kasim woke at the first beam of light that entered through the dusty warehouse windows.
They folded the blankets they had spent the night lying on on the cold warehouse floor. Their suits were hung on a makeshift clothesline of electrical wire, strung from the van door to a metal stanchion. Before dressing, they both went to a nearby wall and relieved themselves.
“Are you ready? Today is going to be a big day,” Amar said.
“Yes. Eight years I have been ready,” Kasim said.
The two men stepped over the dead bodies blocking the door and opened it just far enough to squeeze out.
It was a warm day already, and the sun felt good on bones chilled from having slept on the concrete floor.
Amar turned his face to the sun and took in a big breath through his nostrils. “This is one thing I will miss,” he said. “The comfort of the sun on my skin.”
“Allah will provide the sun for you, my friend. He will fulfill any desire you wish.”
“Yes, I must have faith.”
They walked two blocks, turned right and walked two more. There they entered a café which had a sign in front on the walk that read, in big red letters, “Buffet Breakfast.”
As they entered, Kasim picked up a newspaper from the counter and tucked it under his arm. They took a seat next to the window where they could see the activity on the street.
Cindy Moss, a very attractive sixty-something woman, came to their table. “What would you gentlemen like to drink?”
“Orange juice and coffee for me thank you,” Amar said.
Kasim didn’t answer. He was busy reading the front page of the newspaper.
“And for you, sir?”
Kasim glanced up and said, “Coffee,” then quickly turned back to the paper.
“Are you gentlemen going to visit the buffet today?” Cindy asked.
“Yes, Ma’am” Amar answered.
“Okay, just help yourselves, and I’ll get your drinks.”
“Thank you,” Amar said while Kasim kept his nose buried in the newspaper.
Cindy was good at reading people, from her years of waiting tables. She had put two children through school and college by bringing people bacon and eggs, steak and potatoes and a smile.
Her husband had died in a car accident fifteen years before, and she had been left with the full financial burden. It had paid off when her son graduated from law school. He made sure she didn’t want for anything, but she still enjoyed waiting on tables. She met some very interesting people.
These two, she surmised immediately, were not car salesmen. Maybe just as bad, though, probably terrorist she thought, stereotyping the two men.
She always liked to make up something about her customers. It was a game she enjoyed.
When the waitress left the table, Kasim said, “Look at this,” and turned the paper for Amar to see.
On the front page, in big bold letters, it said, “PRESIDENT PAYLON TO VISIT MIAMI TODAY.”
Under that, it told that he and his family would be cruising in on their yacht today and that he would be playing golf at the Miami Golf Club tomorrow. The article went on to tell of other family activities scheduled for the first family, but Amar quit reading.
“How are we going to be able to get to the marina today. We can’t just drive
in there with a bomb and load it on our boat,” Amar said.
“What time will they be closing the docks?”
“He is scheduled to arrive at two o’clock. Probably before noon I would say.”
“We must go now,” Kasim said.
The two men got up and raced out of the café. They turned and ran down the street, back the way they had come.
Cindy watched them go then walked to the table and looked down at the paper. The headlines stared back at her, and an alarm went off in her head.
She went to her locker and retrieved her cell phone. She called the Miami FBI office.
~*~
Sanchez hung up his phone and called Agent Wootton. “I’m down at the docks off of Little West River,” he said. “I just got a call from the home office. A waitress reported two Iraqi men at her café a few minutes ago who came in for breakfast but ran out when they saw the headlines in the morning paper.”
“About the President coming?” Wootton asked.
“Yeah, she thinks so. The café is only four blocks from here. I’m going to go over there. I’ll keep a lookout for them. Where are you?”
“I’m on the way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Good. It’s a long shot, but it’s a shot.”
Chapter 77
I was left alone in the room. I tugged at my restraints knowing full well I had no chance of freeing myself but still feeling the need to try.
Visions of animals gnawing off their tails or feet to free themselves from traps came to mind.
I didn’t think I could stand the pain. Besides, I would have had to gnaw off one hand and a foot.
I turned my body, so I had one foot on the floor. As quietly as possible, I dragged the bed toward the window. It only moved an inch at a time and made a terrible scraping sound when it did.
I could now reach the window. I pulled back the curtain and exposed the blinds which I eased open by spreading two of the slats. My heart sank when I saw that behind them was a boarded-up window. That’s when Billie Daryl walked into the room.