“Lieutenant Dominguez and his squad took everyone in the house alive. I observed and guarded the back door.”
“You know I’ll get it from these guys.” Stuckey pointed at the prisoners. “There’ll be an accounting if I find out they had any pals who didn’t make it out alive.”
“There were only three in the house, Sir,” Bocelli stated, ignoring McDaniels’ warning look.
“Stay out of this, Jed,” McDaniels ordered gently. “Take these guys and find out whatever you can. I ain’t going anywhere.”
“That’s good advice, Stuckey,” Martinson said, angrily walking over to join the group. “This is the last time I’m reminding you that you ain’t in charge of this camp.”
Stuckey nodded at his men. They took charge of the bound prisoners. “If you have anything to add to this, McDaniels, you better spit it out now.”
“Adios.” McDaniels gave Stuckey a little finger wave, much to the amusement of the Marines around him.
“Should I know why this Stuckey guy hates your guts,” Martinson asked. They watched the CIA men load the prisoners into a special armored carrier with an enclosed retaining cell in the back.
“Hell, John, I ain’t even sure why,” McDaniels admitted. “It might be the publicity. Maybe Stuckey feels like he ain’t getting the press exposure he thinks he should.”
Martinson laughed. “Maybe. Can he make any trouble for you on this mission?”
“Nope. Stuckey don’t know it yet but like I was telling Abe and Jed, he ain’t in my pay grade on this mission.”
* * *
“You sent for me, John?” McDaniels inquired, ducking through the entrance of Martinson’s headquarters.
“We have your ass this time,” Stuckey said. He stood up from his seat next to Martinson’s desk.
“Shut up!” Martinson ordered, leaning forward in his chair. “The CIA has some questions for you, Colonel. Pull up a chair.”
McDaniels nodded at Stuckey’s men who were seated across from where Stuckey stood and sat down in the empty chair in front of Martinson’s desk.
“Ihsan al Shaif,” Stuckey stated. He sat down again and folded his arms across his chest. “Where is he?”
“Who?” McDaniels asked.
“Did you think his men wouldn’t tell us he was missing?” Stuckey went on with a smile of satisfaction.
“I hope you spent some time trying to find out something useful.”
“Listen, you arrogant asshole, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of a non-combatant.”
“Non-combatant?” McDaniels laughed. “Let’s stop playing games, Rick. What the hell do you want? I’ve given you everything you could hope for in this border area. You have contacts in Syria you would have sold your soul for. Thanks to Dominguez and his Marines you have the local thugs under control. Why not…”
“Al Shaif,” Stuckey interrupted. “Where is he?”
“In hell.” McDaniels answer caused Martinson to sit back away from his desk with a sigh of resignation.
“You killed the Cleric too, didn’t you?” Stuckey smiled knowingly at his two men. They were not as amused as their boss.
“Nope. I would have but the Iraqi woman he’d been terrorizing was familiar with what pussies we Americans have become. She decided to make sure she wasn’t the victim of our suicidal tendency to release our enemies using ACLU rules of engagement.”
“You’re going to prison for this, McDaniels. Where’s the body?”
“It’s part of the landscape. Now, I’ve answered your questions, you answer mine, Rick. What’s this really about?”
“When I sent you home after your escapades in Fallujah, I figured the next time I heard anything about you it would be your obituary explaining how you died in prison. What happens instead? You turn into a national celebrity when some dumb shit Senator decides to use you as his personal assassin. Now they dump your psycho ass in a border hotspot like some superhero from hell and…”
“And I get the job done, Rick,” McDaniels cut him off with a wave of his hand. “C’mon, we’re at war. Al Shaif was personally responsible for countless torture killings. He’s dead. Well wahhhh… light a candle for him and move on.”
Stuckey glanced balefully at his two men when they started laughing and trying to suppress it at the same time. Martinson kept silent, wondering why McDaniels had admitted to killing the missing insurgent at all.
“What the hell do you think is so funny, Largent?” Stuckey asked, gritting his teeth.
“Mac’s right,” Mike Largent replied. “What the hell are we draggin’ this out for, Rick?”
“What about you, Al?” Stuckey turned to Schuler who held up his hands as if in self-defense.
“I don’t know what we’re all sitting around here for in the first place,” Schuler answered. “If Colonel Martinson doesn’t give a crap about this, let it go, Rick. Make your report. Let Washington deal with the details. This ain’t our gig.”
Stuckey stood up. He turned away in disgust, his fists clenched at his sides. “Take McDaniels into custody, Colonel. I’ll have him picked up later in the day.”
“Not going to happen, Stuckey,” Martinson replied. Stuckey twisted toward the Colonel, angry surprise highlighting his features.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me. I ain’t a jailer. Although Colonel McDaniels reports to me, I am not the next link in his chain of command.”
“We’re on the same side, Rick,” McDaniels said. “Quit chewing on this. I…”
“I’ll put your ass in chains myself if I have to!” Stuckey pointed a warning finger at McDaniels.
McDaniels pulled out a satellite phone and pressed a button. He listened for a moment as even Stuckey seemed confused by McDaniels’ indifference.
“McDaniels here, Sir, wait one.” McDaniels handed the phone to Stuckey. “It’s for you, Rick.”
Stuckey hesitated, staring at the phone with unbelieving eyes. His shoulders slumped slightly as he took the phone from McDaniels gingerly.
“Stuckey here.”
The other men in the room watched Stuckey’s face drain of any residual emotion he may have been feeling. Stuckey sat down slowly in his chair again as he listened.
“I understand the order, Sir,” Stuckey mumbled. He then repeated the same phrase louder as if by request. He returned the phone to McDaniels.
“McDaniels. Yes, thank you.”
“What the hell was that, Rick?” Largent asked.
Stuckey looked up at his men as if he were confused as to where he was. He ran both hands over his shaved scalp. He stared at McDaniels with a wry expression.
“McDaniels is from this moment forward our commanding officer,” Stuckey stated.
Largent and Schuler shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. They glanced from McDaniels to Stuckey with some trepidation. Martinson did not comment but a smile spread over his face, thwarting any attempt to repress it.
“Well… Sir,” Stuckey spat out. “What are your orders?”
McDaniels stood up. He extended his hand to Stuckey. “Thank you for your service, Rick. Carry on with what you’ve been doing. I will be out of your hair soon. The call was just to relieve you of any kind of responsibility my actions may cause.”
Stuckey stared at McDaniels’ hand in silence. He then grasped it in a firm handshake. “How do you know I won’t out you to the press behind your back?”
“You ain’t that kind of man.” McDaniels released his hand. He shook hands with Largent and Shuler. “I know you guys have all done a hell of a job. I wanted to be in a position to say so to your faces without anything hanging. In answer to your question, Rick, there’s nobody, and you only have the word of three foreign murderers backing you up.”
Stuckey grinned. “Maybe I’m wired.”
McDaniels took a small electronic device out of his vest pocket. “This says no.”
Stuckey turned to Martinson. “You okay with writing off Al Shaif’s murder, Colonel?
”
“Who?”
Largent and Schuler both laughed at Martinson’s deadpan expression of ignorance. Stuckey nodded and stood up again, gesturing for his men to follow.
“See ya in the funny papers, McDaniels,” Stuckey said with a small salute before striding out of the room.
“You get tired of the superhero gig, Mac, you come look me up.” Largent followed his superior out the door.
“Ditto,” Schuler commented, on the heels of Largent. “Can I send you my wish list of candidates for premature burial?”
McDaniels and Martinson both laughed as Schuler closed the door behind him.
“Who the hell was that on the phone, Cold?” Martinson asked.
“That’s classified, Colonel,” McDaniels said regretfully. Be glad not everyone in our government is a pussy.”
“I can’t begin to tell you how reassuring that information is,” Martinson commented happily, leaning back with his hands behind his head. “Dismissed.”
“Rah!” McDaniels barked, turning sharply and exiting Martinson’s office.
Chapter 51
Mehmed
“Are you sure it will be all right with the Cold Mountain for me to stay here?” Mehmed asked Rasheed as he looked around the large loft. “This is very nice.”
“He would not have had AD Reskova tell me to let you stay here if he did not mean it.” Rasheed knew the young man had probably never stayed in a place by himself. “One thing though, do not touch anything you find here other than regular furniture, bedding, or kitchen appliances. In other words, do not get curious.”
“I remember what you said, Agent Rasheed, it was…”
“Kay,” Rasheed interrupted with impatience. “I have told you a hundred times already to call me Kay.”
“I am uncomfortable calling you Kay, Sir,” Mehmed replied. “It was most generous of you to allow me to stay in your home these last few months and to help me learn about what is expected of me.”
“My wife thinks of you as a son already. My daughter lusts after you like a cheap camp follower. The little Cold said Mehmed before he said Father. It has…”
“This is not true…” Mehmed gasped in embarrassment, much to Rasheed’s enjoyment. “I would never…”
“I know you have been honorable.” Rasheed cut the young man off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “As I was saying, it has been good having you in my home. It was only natural for Suraya to become infatuated with you. I would rather you stayed at my home longer but this will be less of a temptation for you.”
“Suraya cares for me. Is this true?” Mehmed asked in a whisper. “Your daughter is so intelligent and…”
“Forget I mentioned it,” Rasheed ordered.
“Hey,” Donaldson called out from the doorway, his arms loaded with groceries. “I thought you guys were going to throw the bags down and help me with the groceries.”
Mehmed ran over to relieve Donaldson of three bags loaded with foodstuffs. “I am sorry, Agent Donaldson.”
“Forget it, M.” Donaldson grinned. “I figured Cold’s place would throw you for a loop. It will be like living in a friggin’ warehouse.”
“It is most impressive.” Mehmed led Donaldson toward the kitchen with the groceries.
“Maybe Cold will lease it to you indefinitely,” Donaldson suggested. “Reskova would never live here and he can only live in one place at a time. I’m never going to get you to call me Pete, am I?”
“As I said to Agent Rasheed, it makes me uncomfortable.” Mehmed smiled to take the edge off his words. “I do not ignore your requests because I wish to be disrespectful. I am the newbie.”
Donaldson and Rasheed laughed at Mehmed’s proud acceptance of his position on the squad.
“When will the Cold Mountain return from Iraq?” Mehmed began putting away the groceries. “He returned weeks ago from the meeting with my friends. AD Reskova made it possible for me to talk to them for a moment. If…”
“M,” Pete cut in, “we don’t speak of anything to do with operations outside the office. I haven’t had a chance to sweep Cold’s place yet. As I’ve shown you, there are even ways to hear things right through the walls.”
“In answer to your question though,” Rasheed spoke up, “rumor has it he will return soon. I know this because I have been observing Diane’s mood swings. She holds off the anxiety attacks with some success but I can tell she thinks Cold will be coming home soon. Even the devil dog has been acting strangely on his walks.”
“I think you’re confusing the Colonel with an earthquake, Kay,” Donaldson pointed out with a short laugh. “Animals sense forces of nature not people.”
“The Cold Mountain is a force of nature. Is that not so, young Mehmed?”
“I must agree with Agent Rasheed,” Mehmed answered immediately. “He is a disturbingly silent force of nature though. I really like Dino. I have never been around a dog like him.”
“Those three are a very strange trio,” Donaldson remarked. “I wish we could have found out where those two Hughes miscreants went to before the Colonel comes back.”
“It is like they vanished.” Rasheed sighed and sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. “Cold will not be pleased those two are still running around loose. We have not tied them in with the Russians yet either.”
“Once the news hit the streets about the Hughes brothers, Romanko really pulled in his mob.” Donaldson sat down too. “He probably has a couple guys looking for them himself.”
“I have trouble understanding why it is against the law to arrest known criminals.” Mehmed handed Rasheed a cup of tea he had brewed while straightening up the kitchen cupboards.
“Kay has a lot of trouble with that concept too.” Donaldson accepted a cup of tea from Mehmed. “If we do it any other way, we end up with the same type government Syria or Iran has. We need proof before we move on anyone here.”
“You did not seem too put out when we helped Cold with his little visit that one night,” Rasheed reminded Donaldson.
“That’s the problem, Kay. The stuff is habit forming, especially when someone close is in danger.”
“I will be happy when Shaun of the Dead gets back,” Rasheed announced as Mehmed laughed at the reference Rasheed had explained to him weeks ago. “He seems to know exactly what can be done without going to prison.”
“I think he’s even corrupted Diane,” Donaldson agreed. “It helps a bit when you save a Senator’s niece too. Hokanson’s a good guy to have on our side.”
“How is Nancy doing?”
“Getting testy, Kay, getting testy.”
“She does not enjoy her pregnancy?”
“What part, the throwing up, the incontinency, the breast pain, the stretch marks, the…”
“Okay, okay.” Rasheed laughed, holding up his hands in a surrendering fashion. “It will be over soon. Nancy will then have to deal with the post natal depression.”
“What?!” Donaldson exclaimed, sitting up in his chair. “What do you mean post natal depression?”
“Women become depressed after the birth of a child. They sometimes entertain thoughts of suicide. Some have even blamed the depression for murdering their own children,” Rasheed explained. Both Donaldson and Mehmed stared at him with stunned expressions. “Ah, I see you do not know about the hidden plights of fatherhood.”
“You’re scaring me again, Kay,” Donaldson warned, stabbing his finger at Rasheed. “Lately, when I get scared, I get violent.”
Rasheed burst into raucous laughter. Many minutes passed before he could speak. “Oh, my friend, you are indeed a treasure of naiveté. Such things do not happen to every woman. You do not have to take everything so seriously. You married the woman. That in itself will ease your burden.”
“This marriage and being a parent is not as I once thought.” Mehmed was still shaken at Rasheed’s description of the less enjoyable aspects of becoming a parent. “You are happy sometimes are you not Agent Donaldson?”
“Don
’t let Kay here poison you with his know-it-all crap about marriage, M. He’s still married and happy. You lived with him. His life is not some living hell.”
“I hide it very well,” Rasheed expounded, looking upwards with a thoughtful expression as if in deep contemplation.
“Oh, you think I won’t repeat this conversation to Ansa word for word?”
“That is so not funny, Pete.” Rasheed leaned across the table as Mehmed began to smile in appreciation of this sudden change in Rasheed’s demeanor. “I thought we agreed what is said outside of my home stays outside of my home. You cannot simply blackmail me every time I try to give you the hard earned knowledge I have gained over the years.”
“Relax. I won’t rat you out to Ansa. I just enjoy seeing you jerk to attention at the mention of her name. Besides, you started it.”
“You are very happy in your home, Agent Rasheed. I am envious of your home life. I hope to have as much one day.”
“Easy, young Mehmed,” Rasheed cautioned. “I did not mean to frighten you. I must be brutally honest with Pete or he becomes lost in his delusions.”
“Delusions?” Donaldson repeated.
“This banter between you two is very enjoyable,” Mehmed interjected before Rasheed could continue. “It was good of you to invite me to your wedding, Agent Donaldson.”
“I wanted as many people there who could keep a straight face as possible.” Donaldson looked pointedly at Rasheed.
“I did not mean to laugh. For the thousandth time, I am sorry to have laughed as the minister asked if anyone had any objection to the marriage.”
“You were my best man, Kay.” Donaldson contemplated the tabletop, shaking his head regretfully.
“Oh, do not go into that doleful poor Pete act again,” Rasheed said, as Mehmed stifled his own laughter, having heard this subject acted out before. “I was caught unaware by that part of the ceremony. Remember, you did not have a practice run.”
“So it’s my fault you made my marriage ceremony into a joke?” Donaldson warmed again to Rasheed’s faux pas at his wedding.
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