“It was the dead silence that followed which gave me away.”
All three men laughed at Rasheed’s final rendering.
“I have to admit,” Donaldson began again, “that really made it memorable. It ain’t what goes right, it’s what goes wrong.”
“Don’t worry though, Ansa and Jen have been torturing me with it ever since the wedding. Is that not true, Mehmed?”
“Yes,” Mehmed gestured affirmatively at Donaldson. “They will comment on it no matter what is being discussed. It is as Agent Rasheed explains, using the John Wayne movie True Grit, the two of them draw it like a gun to harass him with. It is most enjoyable… I mean… ah… it is most unfortunate.”
“Anyway,” Donaldson said finally, “Nancy’s fine. I guess I’ll catch hell from the Colonel for rushing into marriage with her though.”
“Not likely. The Cold Mountain knows of these things. Death would be preferable to the unending trips of guilt which would have been visited on you had you tried to avoid marrying Nancy. He will be sorry he missed your ceremony, if only because he did not witness my humiliation first hand.”
“I have the camcorder tape, Kay.”
“Oh thank you for reminding me my gaff can be treasured for eternity.”
“No problem, want a copy?”
“No. I have Ansa and Jen if I ever forget a single instant of it,” Rasheed answered, standing up and looking at his watch. “Well, are you both ready to go see how much trouble we can get into?”
Donaldson looked at his watch. “We’re right on time to set up. You do understand we’re observing, right Kay?”
“Why is it you immediately cast dispersions on my ability to follow orders during a mission? Mehmed and I will stand next to the traitorous dogs from the ACLU and the Al Queda lobbying stooges in front of the White House while they scream their obscenities. We will record anything useful.”
“Don’t forget about blending in,” Donaldson reminded Rasheed as the three men left McDaniels’ loft apartment. Mehmed locked up behind them.
“What would you suggest, Agent Donaldson, we give them all blow jobs while they scream and shout?” Rasheed asked with a sincere look on his face.
“I will not do this!” Mehmed shouted suddenly, dropping his newly attained keys.
Hilarity ensued over Mehmed’s literal interpretation. Donaldson put a reassuring arm around the young man’s shoulders.
“Don’t pay any attention to him, M. He’s only joking around. Kay doesn’t like these people we’re watching today. A couple of the Syrian gang will supposedly be there. We want to see if they act like they’re in charge or merely hanging out with the rest.”
“I am sorry. It is sometimes difficult to tell when you two are joking. What will this exercise provide us?”
“Probably nothing,” Rasheed answered for Donaldson as they climbed into the surveillance van with Rasheed behind the wheel. “We know you will recognize the Syrians from your duties on the surveillance team. Get close to them. Look like you might be a new recruit. I am your backup. If I see something wrong, I will walk up to one of the men beside you.”
“Then we walk away together,” Mehmed finished.
“Correct.”
“If you guys leave the dance, I’ll meet you around the corner with the van. Remember, get me some good views. We want full face shots, M.”
“With these special sun glasses, that should not be a problem,” Mehmed removed the sunglasses from his shirt pocket. “I look like a movie star with these on.”
“Do not get too excited out there, newbie,” Rasheed warned. “Suraya will surely blame me for anything unfortunate happening to you. I will be close but not too close. If I say down you dive for the ground and ask questions later.”
“I remember, Sir.”
“Suraya would be unhappy if I were to come to harm?” Mehmed asked hesitantly after a moment.
“Do not dwell on such things, newbie.”
“You brought it up, Kay,” Donaldson pointed out from the back.
“You stay out of this, infidel.” Rasheed scowled at Donaldson.
* * *
Cold and overcast, the weather in the vicinity of the White House matched the mood set by the protest group leaders. Instead of the thousands they had hoped for, less than a hundred people were grouping around them. Some held anti-war signs while others simply proclaimed a visceral hatred of the United States President. Mehmed wandered near the small group of men leading the contingent of Arab lobbying groups. He jockeyed to positions where the miniature video receiver in his sunglasses picked up full frontal shots of each leader. All the while, Mehmed sported a grim, angry look. He cavorted angrily with the others near the gated enclosure around the White House.
Rasheed, who stood with some others nearby, watched Mehmed with a smile.
“He is a natural, Pete,” Rasheed whispered into his com unit.
“Look at that expression on his face. I feel like shooting him myself.”
Rasheed turned away from the fence as if controlling a sneeze, barely refraining from laughing out loud. After a moment he straightened, checked on Mehmed’s position, and gripped the fence.
“No more jokes,” Rasheed ordered. “Now, each time I glance his way, I think of your comment. They are showing interest.”
“M’s giving them just enough of the impatient Islamo Nazi act,” Donaldson concurred. “You see anybody you recognize?”
“Only the two Mehmed indicated at the beginning.”
“They’re really pissed. They gave a Jihad party and nobody came. There are more news people than there are protestors. They’ll be knocking off pretty soon before the TV cameras start panning around showing how few of them there really are.”
“They are probably waiting to see if the race baiters arrive,” Rasheed replied. “If… hey, one of them is approaching Mehmed. I will get closer.”
“It’s Mohsin, Kay.”
“Yes, the one Jen thinks is taking over for Mero.” Rasheed slowed down as he drew abreast of the small group near the leaders. “You should have given him a com unit.”
“I couldn’t chance it, Kay. I’ve got the boom on him. They’re yapping away in Arabic. I’m getting a real time translation on my screen as they speak. The only thing going on is they’re pissed at the small turnout.”
“Pipe it to me live,” Rasheed directed.
“Then you won’t hear me, Kay.”
“Exactly.”
“I walked right into that. Here it comes.”
“Just right,” Rasheed commented as the audio from their sound pickup transmitted directly to him. “I wish those dogs were standing more in the open rather than near those trees. Why would they allow tree growth around a government fence barrier?”
“They’re pretty,” Donaldson broke in to the live feed to answer. “The teams of vigilant snipers on the rooftop do tend to discourage assaults from anywhere around here.”
“I am not reassured.” Rasheed shifted position to keep line of sight with Mehmed. “Position the boom more directly on… yes… good.”
Rasheed could hear the conversation between Mehmed and the Syrian named Mohsin.
“Who are you, young man?” Mohsin asked.
“I am Mehmed Ahmadi.”
Mehmed stood still with his hands down by his sides, trying to look at the well dressed bearded man attentively. Although Mohsin was thin, Mehmed looked up at Mohsin from his own five foot, ten inch height.
“Why does your name sound familiar to me?” Mohsin asked, gesturing toward another man dressed similarly, who disengaged from his conversation and walked over quickly.
“I do not know, Sir,” Mehmed replied politely, looking enquiringly at the man who joined them.
“Shit,” Rasheed cursed quietly, “that’s Sadiq.”
“You’re getting too close, Kay,” Donaldson warned.
Rasheed paused next to the last bunch of protestors, smiling and nodding as they talked heatedly, trying to keep cle
ar of them at the same time in case he had to move quickly.
“This is Mehmed Ahmadi, Rasmi,” Mohsin said, indicating Mehmed to the man who had joined them. “His name sounds very familiar to me.”
“Yes, and I believe we have also seen his picture. He is one of the men missing from al Zoubi’s encampment.” Rasmi Sadiq reached behind his back and under his jacket. Three other men moved into a semi-circle around Mehmed.
“How have you come to be here?” Mohsin’s smile was replaced by a thin sneering tightness around his mouth. “Answer quickly or my friend will gut you like a fish.”
Mehmed saw the stiletto held tightly in Rasmi Sadiq’s hand. He resisted the terrible urge to flee back in the direction he knew Rasheed would be. Mehmed shrugged.
“What is it you want to know?”
“What the hell are they saying?” Rasheed whispered fiercely, edging toward where Mehmed stood facing the tightening circle of men.
“Something’s blocking out the sound, Kay. It doesn’t look like they’re interviewing M, though.”
“I’ll walk over. Get the van started.”
Rasheed hurried toward the group as Sadiq showed Mehmed the stiletto. When Mehmed asked the men what they wanted to know, Sadiq lunged forward. Rasheed grabbed Mehmed’s jacket. He yanked him back, trying to clear his 9mm Glock auto from its holster. Mehmed watched the knife blade streak toward his midsection with an almost detached fascination. All were concentrating on the knife. A dark shadow enveloped Sadiq for a moment. The knife halted in suspended animation. The snap of wrist bones accompanied by Sadiq’s scream as he pitched forward to the pavement gripping his shattered wrist froze the small crowd of men in place. A huge hand gripped Mehmed’s forearm, propelling him backward. Mehmed glanced up with a startled look, which changed instantly to wonder as he heard Rasheed laugh from his other side.
“Cold Mountain,” Mehmed whispered. Rasheed gripped his other arm.
Mehmed was propelled forcefully through the oncoming rush of protestors and news people, jockeying to see what had happened to the screaming man.
“Quickly, young Mehmed,” McDaniels urged. “We must be out of here before they realize what’s happened. “Kay, how’s it hangin’?”
Chapter 52
Another Plot
Donaldson squealed to a stop next to them in the van as McDaniels, Mehmed, and Rasheed walked down the avenue. Seconds later, Donaldson had the surveillance van moving out of the area. Rasheed had dived into the front seat next to Donaldson, while McDaniels entered the back seat area with Mehmed. Rasheed reached back to grasp his old friend’s extended hand with both of his.
“How can you be here, Cold Mountain?” Mehmed asked in utter confusion. “This cannot be possible.”
“Yes, my brother.” Rasheed released McDaniels’ hand. “How have you accomplished yet another one of your magic tricks?”
“Hi, Colonel,” Donaldson chimed in with a wave. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks, Pete. Turn right up here and take the first left. Red’s waiting for me. I came in by military air last night and surprised Red and Dino. She told me what you guys would be up to today. She agreed to help me surprise you all. I hadn’t figured on getting involved. I was keeping an eye on that bunch you tangled with until I could come over to the van safely. I saw Mac the Knife reaching while he was walking in on Mehmed.”
“You saved my life again.” Mehmed stared at McDaniels unbelievingly.
“No,” McDaniels replied, shaking his head. “I just prevented Kay from killing half a dozen guys in broad daylight outside the White House. I don’t think we needed that kind of publicity. Let me out here, Pete. Red’s car is…”
“I see her, Colonel,” Donaldson broke in, bringing the van to a halt. “We recorded a bunch of good stuff. You can tell her we’ll break it down while she’s catching up on old times with you. Maybe…”
“They knew I had been with al Zoubi,” Mehmed interrupted. “They said they had heard my name and had received pictures of all missing from the encampment.”
“It was as we suspected. Mohsin and Sadiq are… ah… up to their eyeballs in all this. They must be the replacements for Mero,” Rasheed said.
“There’s no way they could have any of that up to date data otherwise,” Donaldson agreed. “This turned out…”
“You two have used me as the cheese in the mousetrap,” Mehmed cut in, his part in what had happened becoming clearer to him by the second. “Why did you not tell me?”
“We didn’t want to worry you, M,” Donaldson replied. “Hey, nobody died, right Kay?”
“Yes, it was all within acceptable mission parameters,” Rasheed confirmed his partner’s pronouncement as McDaniels began laughing.
“Colonel,” Donaldson said, looking out the window, “I think you better get going. AD Reskova looks ready to come over and yank you out of the van by your ear.”
McDaniels saw Reskova standing with her arms folded, glaring at the van. She tapped her foot impatiently as emphasis to the already clear message she was projecting. McDaniels clapped Mehmed on the shoulder.
“You looked great out there, my young friend. Don’t worry about those Syrian gang bangers. Did you move into my old place yet?”
“Agents Rasheed and Donaldson helped me with the last things this morning,” Mehmed replied, looking accusingly at the two aforementioned men. “Your apartment is very nice, Sir.”
“If I keep getting looks like that from Red, I may be bunking in with you.” McDaniels opened his door. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
“Are you coming right back to work, Colonel?” Donaldson asked.
“I have a month off. There are a bunch of debriefings I have to do,” McDaniels answered, leaning on the door. “After that, I’ll probably be back on the team full time for a while. See you guys later.”
“You will report to my house tonight for dinner, Shaun of the Dead,” Rasheed called out after him.
McDaniels nodded his head without turning. The three agents in the van watched as Reskova’s look of angry impatience turned quickly into something altogether different when McDaniels took her into his arms. Donaldson started the van and drove away.
“You would have saved me, Agent Rasheed, as the Cold Mountain claimed?”
“As they say in America - you were toast, newbie.”
“Oh M,” Donaldson added solemnly, “you were so dead.”
“I want to be in the van next time,” Mehmed stated as Donaldson and Rasheed laughed appreciatively.
* * *
“Were you out here for my benefit or to show the boys who’s in charge?” McDaniels ran his fingers over her cheek with a feathery touch.
“I’ll never be in charge of you, Cold.” Reskova tilted her head up with a sigh of contentment. “They know it as well as you do.”
Reskova gripped McDaniels tightly around the waist with her head against his chest.
“Oh my God, last night was wonderful.”
“It was more than I can say in words,” McDaniels whispered.
“Take me right now,” Reskova ordered, pulling away and beginning to remove her jacket.
“Easy, Red. I believe you have overestimated my abilities if you think I can do anything in your car besides sit with my head on the roof.”
Reskova jumped into the driver’s seat of her car, waving at McDaniels. “Okay, get in then. C’mon Cold, right now.”
McDaniels smiled and walked around to the passenger side as Reskova started the car. He had only enough time to get seated in the Honda Accord before it moved.
“You might want to wait until I get in the car, Red,” McDaniels noted as he buckled his seat belt. “You hardly slept last night. How about a nap?”
“I’ll give you a nap.” Reskova reached over and gripped McDaniels’ groin. “Oh God, I’m taking the rest of the day off. I’ll have messages channeled to me at the apartment. I’ll…”
McDaniels took her hand and brought it up to his lips. He then began
messaging her hand, gently stroking his fingers over her palm every few seconds. “The boys said they’d decipher the recordings they made and get a synopsis ready for you. Mehmed told us Mohsin and Sadiq knew him. They already had a report of his being missing from al Zoubi’s encampment.”
“I know. I hooked up into Pete’s line the whole time you were gone. What the hell did you do? One moment there was a crowd around M - then you and Kay were hustling him down the street.”
“Sadiq decided to give Mehmed an Al Jezzera haircut, without the usual bag over his head and camera recording. I intercepted him.”
“Shit, Cold,” Reskova complained, pulling her hand out of his grasp. “His death will be all over…”
“Relax,” McDaniels cut in, taking her hand again. “I broke his wrist, not his neck. It was better than having Kay find Mehmed knifed in the middle of that crowd. You would have had a scene then.”
“I’ll have Tom talk to Kay. They figured that too close. I only gave Tom the go ahead because he told me M would be in no danger.”
“There are always risks. Let it go. Kay will be thinking about it on his own. He likes that kid. I can tell. You should have seen his face when he knew he wasn’t going to get to Mehmed in time. It won’t happen again.”
“I’ll consider your advice… I… God, that feels good. If you keep stroking my hand, I’m going to wet the seat. When do you have to leave?”
“I have a Senate briefing with Aginson tomorrow and the day after. When the briefings end I can disappear for a little bit. Think you can cover for me with our friends?”
“I’ll just tell them I have you chained in the apartment building basement awaiting my pleasure.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Reskova continued as McDaniels laughed over her comment. “We’ll get them sooner or later. Those retards are too stupid not to get caught.”
“They didn’t get caught when they stuffed you in a trunk,” McDaniels reminded her.
“They had help.”
“Exactly and I’m going to find out who. I’m not waiting for them to try that shit again, or worse.”
“The area we suspect they went in is huge. We’ve had satellite coverage over the area for months. You can’t just pick a spot and start wandering around in the wilderness. Their trail’s cold and…”
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