Monster

by Bernard L. DeLeo

  “You fool!” Kojovich leaned forward over the table. “I told you to never…”

  “I did not see what was going on until it was too late,” Hamdan interrupted, holding up his uninjured hand in a placating gesture. “I assumed Rasheed was alone. The Syrian did not come into the shop from the back until…”

  “Do you not see what you have done?” Kojovich cursed under his breath, leaning back in his seat again. “You have compromised your work at the Mosque and exposed our interest in Rasheed. I thought only his wife and daughter worked in their store.”

  “They do. We thought to… ah… scare them a little,” Hamdan replied haltingly, and then more expressively when he saw rage engulf Kojovich’s face. “It is not as you think. I only…”

  “It is over,” Kojovich whispered back menacingly. “Tell your…”

  Kojovich quieted as the waitress appeared with their orders. After she walked away, Kojovich leaned forward again.

  “Tell your people we are done with this. Do not contact…”

  “There was a big man there too,” Hamdan cut in. “I thought he was a customer because he walked out of the store when we came in. When we confronted Rasheed, the big man returned. He ordered my companions around in Arabic. He appeared in the shop as if…”

  “Christ!” Kojovich whispered, waving a hand at Hamdan angrily. “It has to be McDaniels. Get in your car and drive. Do not look back. Call your people later after you are in a different state. They will know your ID is a phony. Stay away from your house. If…”

  “But…but I have all my…” Hamdan began, an icy fear racing up his spine as he remembered his captives and the computer he had.

  Kojovich stood up from the table, leaving a fifty dollar bill near his untouched meal. “If you wish to live you will walk out of this restaurant and disappear. I must get back to my…”

  Kojovich shut up, shaking his head before continuing on. “Never mind. Get out of here. Do not let yourself get taken.”

  “Wait,” Hamdan called out, grasping at Kojovich’s sleeve. “What of…”

  “It’s over.” Kojovich twisted his arm out of Hamdan’s grasp. He hurried toward the entrance without looking back.

  * * *

  Hamdan followed after a moment’s hesitation. Kojovich was already out the door by the time Hamdan reached the restaurant entrance. He watched as Kojovich’s Mercedes arrived in front of the restaurant. Kojovich slid quickly into the backseat with only a glance toward the restaurant before closing the car door. Hamdan exited the restaurant. He stuck his hands in his pockets, glumly staring down at his feet as he walked toward his Chevrolet Lumina. As he unlocked and opened the driver’s side door Taser needles struck him. He jackknifed backwards to the parking lot surface. Mehmed ran up and quickly reached in to hit the automatic door unlock switch. Seconds later, he stuffed Hamdan into the backseat as Donaldson entered the rear passenger side door on the opposite side to receive the stunned Hamdan. Mehmed sat in the driver’s seat. One minute after Tasering Hamdan, Mehmed was driving away from the restaurant parking lot with Donaldson plastic tying Hamdan’s hands and feet.

  * * *

  “Hello, Mikhail,” McDaniels greeted Kojovich as the Russian settled into his seat after closing the rear passenger door.

  Kojovich jerked his eyes away from Hamdan at the restaurant entrance to McDaniels’ formidable presence. He reached for the 9mm automatic inside his jacket pocket, only to have his wrist caught up in a tightening vise. Kojovich, a brutal man himself, with more than average strength, pitched back against the rear passenger door in agony as the bones in his wrist crackled sickeningly. McDaniels calmly reached into Kojovich’s coat to disarm him. With practiced expertise, McDaniels patted Kojovich down for weapons.

  “He’s clean, Kay, park and see how the boys are doing with Hamdan,” McDaniels directed, before pointing warningly at Kojovich and speaking to him in Russian. “Do not do anything hasty, Mikhail, or I will cut your dick off right now and stick it up your ass. Understand?”

  Kojovich nodded his head, a feeling of hopelessness pouring over him he had never experienced before. He saw a strange Arab driving Hamdan’s Lumina wave at the Mercedes. The Mercedes edged forward beside a large Ford SUV. Another man jumped out of the passenger rear of Hamdan’s Lumina to throw open the rear sliding door of the SUV. Seconds later, Kojovich saw the man drag Hamdan’s body out and toss it in through the sliding door before jogging around to the driver’s door. The young Arab then parked the Lumina down the block before returning to the Ford SUV and getting in the back. With a sinking feeling, Kojovich noticed everyone wore white surgical gloves, including McDaniels.

  McDaniels answered a cell-phone call. When Kojovich looked toward the door, Rasheed leaned over the right side of the driver’s seat with a 9mm automatic pointed at his head. Rasheed smiled at the Russian. When McDaniels finished talking, he put the cell-phone away and nodded at Rasheed.

  “Everything went well, Kay. I told Pete we’d follow in the Mercedes. No reason to act out in public more than we have to.”

  Rasheed holstered his weapon. When the Ford SUV drove away from the curb, Rasheed followed it at a distance.

  “So, Mikhail, what have you and your boss been up to with the Syrians?” McDaniels asked.

  “You will kill me anyway.” Kojovich stared out his window. “I will tell you nothing.”

  Rasheed laughed lightly, glancing back at the Russian and then ahead to the road. “Do you think the Cold Mountain cares if you talk, dead man?”

  This time Kojovich turned away from the window as if stung by Rasheed’s words. “You are American FBI agents. How can…”

  “Shut up,” McDaniels cut him off. “You gangsters come to this country, extort money, run weapons and drugs; and as if that’s not enough, you start aiding terrorist cells. Then you top it all off by kidnapping an Assistant Director in the FBI. Well… you have our attention now, Mikhail, doesn’t he, Kay?”

  “Oh yes.” Rasheed nodded his head vigorously in the affirmative. “Here we are, dead man. You called and we have come.”

  “We had nothing to do with any kidnapping,” Kojovich protested. “I never…”

  Kojovich saw the repressed murderous fury sweep over McDaniels’ face. He bit off his next words as if they were laced with strychnine.

  “The Hughes brothers said they weren’t going to tell me anything either,” McDaniels said, his mouth clenched so tightly his words sounded like verbal venom. “They cried out your name and Romanko’s like a prayer on judgment day.”

  Kojovich’s face betrayed the fact he had not known the Hughes brothers were dead. Controlling the urge to snap Kojovich’s neck, McDaniels grinned, his face like a death’s mask. Kojovich leaned into the corner of the seat furthest from McDaniels. He held up a hand in a placating manner.

  “I can help you bust all of Romanko’s operation - everything. I will work with you. It was Romanko’s idea to kidnap Reskova.”

  “I assure you, Mikhail, by the time we’re done, you will have told me your entire life’s story. I will offer you the same deal I gave the Hughes brothers.”

  McDaniels pulled out a small case from his jacket pocket. He opened it and let Kojovich see the hypodermic needle inside.

  “You can tell me everything and go out with a smile on your face or you can play tough guy, lose everything including your face, and still tell me your life’s story. This is your chance. Once you pick the tough guy route there won’t be any going back. I will get every shred of information in your mind and then I will beat you into red mush.”

  “You call that a deal?” Kojovich asked in a coarse whisper.

  “It’s a better deal than you gave Reskova.” McDaniels took out a small recording device. “What’ll it be, Mikhail, easy way or hard way?”

  “Turn on the recorder,” Kojovich said after a moment’s silence.

  “Before we begin, did you know the Syrian had two girls chained in his house? It won’t affect the deal.”

&nb
sp; “No, but it would not surprise me. He is too stupid to live.”

  “Okay.” McDaniels turned on the recorder. “Begin.”

  * * *

  Donaldson sat in the van’s driver’s seat while Mehmed sat in the rear watching the three gagged prisoners. They had been parked near the warehouse where the minefield had been with the Mercedes for the last two hours. Donaldson was impressed with Mehmed’s patience. Even with their captives squirming and groaning nonverbal complaints, the young man had steadfastly watched over them without comment.

  “What do you think the Cold Mountain is doing, Agent Donaldson?” Mehmed glanced out at the Mercedes in the fading light.

  “He’s finishing the interrogation. The Colonel said to wait in the van until he finished letting Kojovich record what he knows.”

  “I meant how do you think he made the Russian tell what he knows?”

  “You’ll have to ask him, M. He probably made the Russian an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

  “That is from the Godfather. I watched it with Agent Rasheed. We watched it together when Mrs. Rasheed and Suraya were shopping while we looked after the little Cold. I liked it so much I bought it at the video store.”

  “Well, I don’t think Cold showed him a horse’s head but I’ll bet he managed to convince Kojovich there are worse things than dying. I’m glad he didn’t have to bury him. I’m not sure our setup is still in place for that.”

  “You buried someone alive?”

  Donaldson gripped the steering wheel, realizing what he had said. He looked at Mehmed guiltily. “Let’s talk no more about that, M, okay?”

  “Sure, Agent Donaldson,” Mehmed replied quickly. “I… the Mercedes… the door opened.”

  Donaldson glanced through the driver’s window as both Rasheed and McDaniels stepped out of the Mercedes. McDaniels reached in and dragged Kojovich’s corpse from the backseat and left it near the car. Both men walked toward the van in the graying light of dusk. Donaldson rolled down the driver’s side window as they approached.

  “You, Kay, and Mehmed take a walk with Hamdan, Pete,” McDaniels said. “I’ll take care of Kojovich’s men. I’ll join you in a moment. Is there any lighting in the warehouse?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Donaldson answered as Mehmed cut the tie binding Hamdan’s feet. “We’ll wait for you inside the warehouse then.”

  Rasheed opened the sliding door. He grabbed Hamdan by his neck. With a twisting pull, Rasheed slung Hamdan out of the van and face first into the ground.

  “Guide this dead man to the warehouse, young Mehmed,” Rasheed directed. “I will follow.”

  Mehmed jumped from the van and picked up the groaning Hamdan, escorting him toward the warehouse. Donaldson, who had witnessed Rasheed’s treatment of their captive, kept silent. Falling in next to Rasheed, Donaldson walked along without engaging Rasheed in conversation, seeing the tense set of the Iraqi’s mouth in the growing darkness. Donaldson saw McDaniels shoulder one of Kojovich’s men and take him over by the Mercedes.

  Mehmed paused outside the warehouse to wait for Donaldson, who unlocked the main door. Stepping inside the doorway, Donaldson turned on the propane lantern left near the entrance and led the way. There were a table and chairs still left from when McDaniels, Rasheed and Donaldson had questioned Donaldson’s wife Nancy.

  “Sit him down in one of the chairs, M,” Donaldson said.

  “And rip off his mouth gag,” Rasheed added.

  Mehmed guided Hamdan into a chair. He gripped the duct tape applied over Hamdan’s mouth. Ignoring the pleading eyes of his captive, Mehmed ripped the tape off the bound man’s mouth. Hamdan screamed in pain, evoking derisive laughter from Rasheed.

  “Did you find out something we don’t know about our buddy here, Kay?” Donaldson set the propane lamp on the table.

  Rasheed looked at Donaldson as if seeing him for the first time. “Yes, Kojovich was most cooperative. He explained what this dead man’s mission was. Romanko agreed to provide intel for the Syrians we encountered in front of the White House. Those men are planning to engage in a special suicide bombing, using this cowardly piece of camel dung as the trigger.”

  “What was the target?” Donaldson saw the look of utter terror sweeping over Hamdan’s face in reaction to Rasheed’s news.

  “Our office or as far inside as dead man could get.”

  “How the hell would he even get in the gate,” Donaldson persisted. “Half the time, M practically has to go through a cavity check to report for work.”

  “That is where the Russian scum added their expertise. Have you noticed a certain resemblance Abdur here has to someone you know?”

  Donaldson and Mehmed leaned down to take a closer look at Hamdan. The captive tried to turn away, only to have Mehmed grab Hamdan’s hair up painfully in his fist.

  “Shit!” Donaldson exclaimed, looking back and forth between Hamdan and Rasheed. “I must be blind not to have noticed when he was in your store this morning.”

  Mehmed released Hamdan, nodding his head in recognition of what Donaldson meant. “Yes, he could be your younger brother, Agent Rasheed.”

  “Romanko had continued surveillance of us contrary to what we believed, Pete. We were not as thorough as we thought. Kojovich said Romanko is obsessed with our having interfered with his operations. Kojovich told us when Cold ended up on the front page of the papers again, Romanko agreed to the Syrian’s continued pleas to assist them in striking out at us.”

  McDaniels walked into the warehouse and joined the small group of his friends and enemy.

  “I was telling Pete and young Mehmed what we found out from Kojovich. The Syrians felt a strike inside our building would not be traced to them or the Russians because no one knows Hamdan. You are very quiet now, dead man. Speak - tell my friends what you had planned.”

  Hamdan shook his head in the negative. “I…I know nothing of what you say.”

  “Oh boy,” McDaniels said quietly, “you probably don’t want to go there Abby. Kay here already wants to roast you over an open fire. Better be real cooperative and save yourself a world of hurt.”

  “He was scouting your home and business,” Mehmed began in almost a whisper. “He planned to murder you, Mrs. Rasheed, Suraya and even the little Cold on the day he chose to show up at our work with all of your credentials. He may have reached deep within our building before unleashing death to everyone around him.”

  “Very good, young Mehmed,” Rasheed complimented his young protégé. “Why do you think we are in this warehouse with dead man when we already know what he planned?”

  Mehmed thought for a moment, having seen recognition flash across Donaldson’s face already.

  “Hamdan would not have been able to get past our explosives recognition equipment,” Mehmed replied as he thought about all the precautions taken from the moment someone entered the sphere of where they all worked. “We must find out what this butcher meant to use and whether he already has it.”

  “You’re a natural, M,” Donaldson clapped Mehmed on the shoulder. Hamdan shook his head again in denial.

  “I already called Diane. She’s aware of what might be found in his house,” McDaniels said. “The girls Mehmed saw are only in their teens. They’re okay but there were two more bodies in a freezer. It seems Abby here was not content with simply ordering in a few prostitutes to prepare himself for heaven.”

  “We will find out what this monster planned to use. He will tell us everything about this mission before he dies.”

  “It’s up to you, Kay,” McDaniels replied. “Do you want to make him an offer or just find out the old fashioned way?”

  “Make dead man the offer, Cold.” Rasheed gestured in disgust. “As much as I would enjoy interrogating him, I would rather be done with this. We have work to do.”

  McDaniels leaned down and smiled into Hamdan’s sweaty face.

  “Oh, you lucky boy, here’s the deal. Tell us everything and I’ll send you to Allah’s judgment without pain. I will leave y
our God to decide what to do with a baby killing piece of crap like you. Decide quickly, because the more I see of you, the more I want to start hacking parts of you off.”

  McDaniels straightened. After a moment Hamdan started to speak but Mehmed suddenly crouched next to him, covering Hamdan’s mouth with his hand.

  “Please do not agree to this deal the Cold Mountain offers you,” Mehmed whispered in a fierce hissing plea. “I would hear your girl like screams. They will be as the most soothing music.”

  Mehmed stood up, pulling his hand way almost reluctantly.

  “I…I will take the deal,” Hamdan blurted out. “I was told you cannot harm me…”

  Mehmed smashed Hamdan across the face, causing the Syrian to pitch sideways out of the chair.

  “Do not… hit me…” Hamdan stammered. “I took the deal. I…”

  Mehmed started to lash out with his right foot but McDaniels pulled him away from the sobbing Hamdan. Donaldson picked the Syrian up and guided him into the chair again.

  “Easy there, my young friend.” McDaniels held onto the enraged Mehmed tightly.

  The anger drained away quickly as Mehmed realized he had lost control in thinking of what Hamdan planned for the Rasheed family. McDaniels released him.

  “I am very sorry, Cold Mountain,” Mehmed apologized. “I…I just…”

  “Don’t worry about it. A deal’s a deal though.”

  McDaniels sat down at one of the chairs, placing his recorder on the table.

  “Get started Abby. I’ll stop you if I need to clarify something. First things first though. What were you planning on using and where do you have it stashed?”

  “Sarin… I was going to use Sarin gas.”

  “How the hell would you have been able to disburse Sarin?” Donaldson asked. “You would never… oh, I see. You only needed to get in the door at the busiest time of the morning. The gas could be carried in small canisters, fitted into a briefcase or backpack. Then…”

  “Pete,” Rasheed interrupted Donaldson with a stopping gesture.

  “Go on, Abby,” McDaniels prompted. “Tell us how.”