Enemy In the Room

by Parker Hudson

  “Where is he?” the tallest of the men in suits asked.

  “Who?”

  A policeman hit Hamid in the stomach, and he doubled over.

  The kitchen door opened, and Omid walked in. “There is no need…”

  “Bring them,” the leader said, and turned to leave.

  Goli’s sister ran from the kitchen and put her arms around Hamid. “No. He did nothing.” A young child started to cry.

  “Bring them,” the leader repeated, and one policeman separated Hamid from his wife while the other two led Omid between them.

  A minute later all the men were gone. Goli’s sister was sitting on the floor, looking through the open front door, her arms around her two children, who were crying next to her.

  David and Peter were at the USNet headquarters in the upstairs room where the speeches would be given, watching the workers move the heavy Presidential podium into place on the temporary stage, when David’s phone rang.

  He looked around and moved to a window on the far side of the room where it would be relatively quiet. He sat on a box and put a hand over one ear. “Hello. Yes, it’s me. How’s Rob?”

  “Not good. I’m at the hospital. His left leg is broken, his face is bruised, his pelvis is broken, and they’re about to do an MRI to check for internal injuries. Not good.” He could hear how upset she was—almost whispering.

  I ought to be there. But how can I, with all I’m responsible for here?

  Before he could speak, she continued. “But that’s not the worst thing, David. The man who was driving Justin and Rob is some guy the police have been investigating for a year, Leonard Tanner. David, they think he’s one of those guys who finds kids on the internet and lures them into crazy stuff. Justin’s fine, though hung over, and he’s been telling his parents, the police and me what they’ve been doing. David, if you can believe it, Rob and Justin have been going to parties with adults who are into all these same group internet games.” Her voice grew in volume. “Drinking, sex, and drugs. This is our son, Rob. He’s fifteen! David, the police say we’re lucky that he and Justin are still alive!”

  His stomach was turning. I ought to go home. “What else did the doctor say?”

  “They’re not sure. It’s two am here, and they’ll be doing the MRI and more tests.”

  “I’m sorry I’m not there, but I physically couldn’t get there any sooner than Monday evening because I could never make a flight today.”

  “David, did you hear me about this Tanner person, and what they’ve been doing? All because of that stupid internet in his room!”

  He closed his eyes. He spoke, trying to be calm. “Elizabeth, yes. There’s a lot to do. A lot to talk about. But I can’t do it from a cell phone in Moscow.”

  “Then come home.”

  “I am. I will. If I change my ticket and leave tomorrow evening after the reception, I can spend the night in France or Germany and then be home early Tuesday afternoon.”

  “Why can’t you leave today?”

  “Elizabeth, we’ve been through that. Is Paul still there?”

  “Yes. He’s been wonderful.”

  “Good. Then call me back when you know more about Rob.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes, for now. If Rob has serious injuries, then we’ll need to talk about treatment, and I’ll come home as soon as I possibly can.”

  “Good-bye.”

  The phone abruptly went dead. He paused, sitting on the box, looking at the room full of people working on a project that may all be a lie. Rob in the hospital because of an internet creep. Callie still doing internet porn movies. And all that Todd told me.

  It struck him. I can’t do this myself. It’s completely beyond me. Then another realization. God, if you are there, as Kristen says, you know the answers. It’s beyond what I can understand or fix. Please help me! He felt light headed; he put his head down. Please take over. Please help my family.

  Peter walked over. “Is everything all right?”

  David looked up. “Uh—yes. Fine. Thanks.” He thought for a moment. “Mr. Knox ought to be getting to the hotel soon. We should probably head back to meet him.”

  Kristen drove Callie in her car north out of Los Angeles. They drove and drove, talking some, and enjoying being out of the city. They finally stopped in one of the small villages that dot the California coast between Malibu and Santa Barbara and checked into an old-style motel with small white frame duplex cabins along the hillside. They shared a single room with two double beds and ate a late dinner in a nearby seafood café.

  During the drive and dinner, Kristen had done most of the talking. She told Callie about her childhood in Texas, her early residential real estate career, more details about her affair with Richard Sullivan and its consequences, her move to work with Callie’s father, and what she knew about her upcoming job with the pension fund. Callie listened and asked questions.

  Now it was a little after eleven on Saturday night, and they were in their beds with the light on, reading magazines they’d bought on the road. Callie spoke. “Kristen, thank you so much for coming out here. I really enjoyed today.”

  “Me, too. That’s a great car.”

  Callie smiled. “Yes. It’s fun. Thank you for driving.”

  “No problem. Now let’s get some sleep and maybe we’ll drive some more tomorrow. Or just stay here. We’ll see.”

  “Yes. Fine. Good night.”

  Kristen switched off the lamp. “Good night.”

  A few hours later David came down the elevator into the hotel lobby and greeted Trevor Knox.

  Trevor smiled as they shook hands. “David, you of course know Akbar Kamali. I’ve asked him to help us on this project, for security.”

  David shook hands with his colleague, who smiled and said, “Thanks for that security report. Our team is looking at it. We should hear something after the Fourth.”

  “Uh, good,” was all that David could think to say.

  Soon the three of them, plus Peter Goncharov were seated in the hotel dining room for Sunday brunch. There was a huge spread of food arranged in a buffet along one wall in the large ornate room with high ceilings, parquet floors and plush red velvet trim on all the furniture.

  “This looks wonderful,” Knox said.

  “Yes, a Moscow tradition. Or at least a new Moscow tradition,” Peter said.

  After they helped themselves at the buffet tables, Peter and David briefed the other two on every aspect of the preparations for the reception.

  “So everyone must be inside our building and up on the second floor by five-twenty, when they’ll cordon off the compound,” David concluded. “Mr. Knox, you and Peter will greet the two Presidents at the entrance and escort them up. We think it will all go pretty smoothly.”

  “It sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” Knox said, finishing his eggs. “I’m looking forward to seeing our new space.”

  “We’re going there right after lunch,” Peter said. “Now I have to check with the front desk about our Kremlin passes for later this afternoon. President Temirov himself is giving them to you, and they include access to ancient rooms that are usually not open to visitors.”

  Knox smiled. “I’m indeed honored. I’ll thank him tomorrow at the reception.”

  Peter stood. “So, excuse me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  After he left, David took a sip of water and looked at Knox. He could feel his heart begin to accelerate and sweat on his forehead. He decided to go ahead. “Trevor, I need to talk to you about taking some time off.”

  Knox frowned. “Now? Here? Today?”

  “I understand. But this can’t wait, and I don’t know when I’ll see you alone again. Our son Rob has been in a bad wreck. Elizabeth is still at the hospital. It’s connected to the internet. Actually to using our USNet internet games.” He could see the frown deepen on Knox’s face. Kamali’s expression had not changed.

  He looked at Knox. “There are two things. First, I need t
o get home as soon as I can after the reception. I wondered if I could fly with you to the U.S., or at least to Western Europe, when we finish tomorrow night. The second thing is that I think I need some time off. I mean, like a sabbatical, to be home with my family and try to straighten out whatever is causing this to happen.”

  Knox glanced quickly at Kamali, then back to Sawyer. “I’m sorry to hear about your son. But how long are you talking about?”

  David took another sip of water. “At least a month. Maybe two. I’m not sure.”

  “Two months? David, believe me, all kids have problems and you’ve got a lot of important projects underway, like in L.A., where you are the key to our success. Two months? We need you now. So I wouldn’t think about two months. You certainly can ride back with us tomorrow night, visit with your son until the end of the week, and then come back to work next Monday. That should be more than enough time. Won’t that work?”

  “Uh, maybe.”

  “And you don’t want a sabbatical from your pay, do you?’ Knox smiled.

  David looked down at the water glass in his hand. “No.”

  “So it won’t do your family any good for you to take off. The best thing you can do for them is keep your job and your income.”

  David could see Peter returning out of the corner of his eye. “All right. I’ll take the end of this week off. And I’ll tell Elizabeth that I’m flying home with you. Thank you.”

  Peter walked up. “The Kremlin tour is set for three. So would you like to see our new offices now, Mr. Knox?”

  “Yes, fine.” He put down his napkin and they stood up. “Excellent brunch.”

  As they walked through the hotel lobby on the way to Peter’s car, David’s cell phone rang again.

  “Hello,” he said. Turning to his colleagues, he said. “It’s Elizabeth. Give me just a minute.” They nodded.

  “I’ll get the car,” said Peter.

  David walked a few paces away toward the large glass windows at the front of the hotel. He turned there to face back into the lobby and saw Knox and Kamali looking at him and talking.

  “How’s Rob now?”

  Her voice was heavy from exhaustion. “He’s stable. They want to observe him for possible internal bleeding. We’re in a room now, David. It’s almost five in the morning. He’s knocked out, and I’m going to try to sleep for a little while in a chair in his room. Paul just left to go home. He’s been great. It’s been a long night.”

  “Yes, I’m glad Rob’s better, or at least stable. Listen, I’m with Trevor, and he offered to let me ride home with him in the corporate jet, so I might be home very late tomorrow night or Tuesday morning.”

  “Whatever.” He could tell she was too tired to argue.

  “All right. Well, call me again when there’s news. And I’ll call you when I know my schedule.”

  “Good. I’m so tired. We’ll talk later.”

  “Get some sleep. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  David surprised himself with the next thought. Thank you, God. He switched off the phone and walked over to Knox and Kamali.

  “Is he better?” Trevor asked.

  “Yes, Elizabeth said he’s stable.”

  Knox smiled. “Good. See, I told you. All kids go through these things. Nothing to worry about. He’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  They walked out of the hotel to Peter’s car, then headed for the USNet office.

  “We know about Morad. Who do you think told us about your trip to Turkey?”

  “Morad would not speak to you.”

  Omid was seated at a metal table in a windowless room at the police headquarters in Tabriz. The three men in suits were around the table—the tall one directly across, a heavyset man to Omid’s right, and a younger man to his left. All three smiled. “It may not have been voluntary,” the leader added.

  Omid stared at him.

  “We know about your websites and about your friends. We know that your wife may be in Turkey, but we have friends there as well. In fact, we know just about everything about you and what you have been doing for the past two years. How you have been trying to overthrow the rightful government leaders whom Allah has chosen to confront and punish all infidels and crusaders with his justice.”

  “If you know all of that, then why are you interrogating me?”

  “Who said that we are interrogating you?”

  Again Omid stared.

  “We like to give people like you a chance to tell us more, to put some positive weights on the scales of Allah’s justice, before you suffer your fate.”

  “My fate?”

  “Yes. We understand that you like democracy. So we’ve decided to vote. Everyone who believes that this traitorous scum should be punished today for his treason, raise your hand.”

  The three men smiled and raised their hands.

  “Noted. I’m afraid that democracy didn’t work for you this time.”

  Omid looked from one to the other. “Some day it will.”

  Elizabeth was alone in the hospital room with Rob, who was in bed with a leg cast and bandages on the side of his head. Two drip bags provided nutrients and a pain killer. Elizabeth was resting in a leather chair after the long night.

  Rob opened his eyes. He saw his mother and then looked around. He tried to move, but the pain stopped him. “Ow,” he exclaimed.

  Elizabeth immediately stood and put a hand on his arm. “Hey. You had a tough night.”

  “What happened to me?”

  “Rob, you were in a wreck. You and Justin, dear. Thank God you’re both OK.” She wiped a tear and held his hand while she recounted what she knew, including his injuries, and the process that the doctors expected to put him through. After she answered his questions, she asked, ”Who is Leonard Tanner? He’s in critical condition. Rob, who is he?”

  Rob looked away. “A guy…we do StreetWar2100 together.”

  “And what else?”

  Rob spoke slowly. “What do you mean?”

  “The police say he’s one of those guys who lures young people in off the internet, offers them drugs, then, once they’re hooked, sells to more kids through them. What have you done with him?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Rob, I’m your mother. What have you done with him?”

  “Stuff.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing much. Like some beer and a few pills. He’s got whacko friends.”

  “In what way?”

  “In every way!”

  “Why did you do all that?”

  “It was, like, fun.”

  “You could be dead.”

  “Looking at all of this I don’t think I’m going to be doing much more any time soon.”

  “And the people. The police say you’ll probably be asked to testify against them—at least Tanner—if he lives.”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “No he’s not. He’s a creep.”

  “Mom, you don’t know him.”

  “I know all I need to know.”

  Callie awoke a few minutes after eight on the California coast She slowly opened her eyes and saw the sun streaming through white curtains around a window on the back side of the cabin. She quietly looked around and was surprised to see Kristen kneeling beside the other bed, facing her, with her eyes closed. Her lips were moving. She was still wearing her long white nightdress. Callie couldn’t make out what she was saying, but obviously Kristen was having an intense dialogue.

  She watched Kristen for several minutes. Occasionally Kristen would open her eyes and read from a book that lay open on the bed in front of her. Then she would pray some more.

  Finally Kristen finished, closed the book, and started to get up. Callie propped up on one elbow and smiled. “Good morning.”

  “Oh. Hey. Good morning. How are you?”

  “Fine. I slept like a log. Say, what were you reading so early?”

  Kristen smiled and picked up the book. “Oh, t
he Bible. I read from it every morning. This morning I was reading Ephesians. The last chapter. It’s about spiritual warfare. I figured we needed it.”

  Callie sat up. “What’s spiritual warfare?”

  “It’s the war that’s going on for our souls. God versus Satan. Good against Evil. Satan wants us with him for eternity, and God wants us with him. How we make decisions here decides where we’ll be forever. Spiritual warfare is about the angels and demons who are warring all around us, trying to get us to make decisions that will take us to heaven or hell. And the best way we can help fight the battle is through prayer.”

  “You really believe all that?”

  “Yes, I really do. Because I’ve experienced both the pain of Satan’s way and the joy of God’s way in my own life, and I know which one I want.”

  Callie stood up in her oversized pink T-shirt and turned toward the bathroom, continuing as she walked. “That’s pretty heavy for before I’ve even washed my face. But I have to admit that there is something different about you—something my friends don’t have.” She started to shut the bathroom door. “I thought it was just because you’re older, but maybe it is God. Wait a minute.”

  When she returned, she propped up a pillow and returned to bed. Kristen had opened the blinds on the front window of the cabin and was sitting in a chair nearby. “Do you want to go back to that same café for breakfast?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m hungry. But I want to ask you about this God business. Do you really believe there’s a God and that he really cares about us?”

  Kristen pulled her knees up and put her arms around them. “Yes. I know so. Look what he did for me—for Richard, Janet, dozens of others I know. He changed me. I’ve told you what I was doing, how I was hurting so many people. I had to arrive at the end of myself before he could change me and use me.”

  “The end of yourself ?”

  “I had to have tried and failed in every way I could imagine to run from God—I was focused only on me. When all my own attempts at happiness failed, he could finally change me and work in me.”

  Callie frowned slightly. “Run from him?”

  Kristen took a deep breath. “Yes. I think it’s what you’ve been doing for a long time, too.”