by Tariq Saleim
“Come sit with me,” said Pepper.
DK nodded. He knocked on the driver’s window first. The driver rolled down the window and DK asked him to take them to the shooting location. He then stepped into the rear and placed himself on the far end of the seat that was still in its flatbed configuration. The car started moving once he closed the door.
“You should wear clothes, otherwise you will get the flu. Air-conditioning is very strong inside the car,” said DK.
“You are the only man who sees me naked and asks me to dress up or I will get the flu.”
“Flu is bad for business. You get sick, miss dates, people chase me.”
She was sitting with her back against the door and her feet on the seat. DK glanced at the messy seat and looked the other way in disgust.
“You produce adult movies and this little mess disturbs you?” Pepper sipped her cappuccino.
“You should stay away from this boy.”
“Why? He is my boyfriend.”
“He is a waste of time. There is an enviable list of men chasing you, but you end up wasting your time with that idiot.”
“Spike loves me. Those men you are talking about do not love me. They love what I do to them and with them, but they do not really love who I am.”
“You think Spike loves you? He only wants his piece of action and that is all.”
“Spike is not like that. I am a woman and I can tell the difference between love and sex. You are a man, therefore you will not understand. Every time Spike touches me he makes love to me. He misses me and what is wrong with that?”
“He is not an angel. I am sure you have heard about his wild parties. He is damn famous for those.”
“I know very well, but then I am to blame. Am I there for him? No, Dick, I am never there for him. He is a healthy man, he needs a woman, and if I am not there he will find others. Besides, who am I to judge? I sleep with men for a living.”
“You are blinded by love.”
“No, I am not. Spike is a good guy. When he looks at me, I see only love. He will love me even if I am not a star tomorrow. He will love me when I am old and wrinkled.”
DK shook his head in abhorrence. There was no point in arguing anymore. Pepper was hell-bent on wasting her love on this punk and DK could do nothing to change it.
“I am not that young anymore. I will be thirty next year,” said Pepper. “How long can I last in the industry? Maybe a few more years, then what? I do not want to spend my life being a rich man’s toy. I want to spend my life with someone who loves me and treats me like a princess. I have that power over Spike. Trust me, he is worth keeping. I need to keep him interested, even if it is a bit inconvenient at times.”
“Coming from a porn star, all of this sounds strange,” replied DK.
“I am a bitch by choice, not by design,” Pepper replied in an agitated tone. “Deep down I am also a woman, and being a porn star does not change that. I long for love too.”
“Whatever,” replied DK.
“You are just jealous that he is getting something you don’t.”
“And I wonder why it is so?”
“Because it is better for both of us. We are in this to make money and not babies,” Pepper replied matter-of-factly.
DK nodded, not fully convinced, though. “We should be reaching there soon, get dressed.” He picked up her clothes from the floor.
Pepper placed them on her chest, hiding her breasts. DK stared at the beautiful woman sitting in front of him. He was in love with her, but what good was this love? It was better to forget his love and make money and hope that someday, when she broke up with Spike, he could have his chance.
Pepper dressed quickly and freshened her makeup. DK sat silently and watched as she hid the traces of her exhaustion. The driver stopped the car and announced that they were at the location. DK dropped the partition between the front and rear of the car. Pepper asked the driver to step out of the car because she needed to talk to DK privately. The driver obliged quickly.
“Who am I meeting tomorrow?” she asked.
“He is someone high up in the Energy sector. People believe he will be the next CEO of Energy.”
“Money?” Pepper asked.
“Already transferred.”
“Can we use him more?”
“Yes, I have a taker. He is willing to pay good money if you introduce him to this Energy guy. He wants a fresh business license in one of the smaller sectors, and apparently this Energy guy has the final say in approving these licenses.”
“Sounds good. I will try my best.”
DK nodded.
“OK, this is what you do,” said Pepper. “Tell your guy I will arrange for more than an introduction. I will get him the license he needs and I do not want any money for it up front. When he gets his license, he needs to give me a five percent shareholding in the project and a two percent shareholding to you.”
“Why do you always get hung up on these shares? I say we take our money and run.”
“You are stupid. So far, all the shares we have received are worth multiples of what I let go initially. Think big, Dick. We need to retire in a few years as legitimate business people, with interests in different investments. I don’t have to get humped all the time to earn a living. You do not have to stick a camera up my ass all your life to make money. Stay with me, and I will make both of us rich. I can retire, be rich and powerful. You can have all the women you want.”
“I am with you.”
“OK, so we start tomorrow night. It will take a few weeks, if at all I am successful. Let’s see how horny this bastard is.”
“Yep,” added DK.
“Where am I meeting him?”
“I will book a high-end hotel. I need to check if he has any preferences.”
“What about the other stuff?”
“Everything is in place: I have the lenses, the earrings, and the lipstick. I will hand over everything to you tomorrow before you see him.”
“What color are the lenses?”
“Three pairs of blue, green, and black each. Three pairs of earrings as well with matching diamonds. Whatever lenses you wear, you can match the earrings if you so wish. The lenses record the video, the earrings record the audio, and the storage device is inside your lipstick. You need to blink your eyes three times quickly and the lenses will start recording.”
“So no more turning and twisting the lipstick to start recording?” Pepper asked.
“That is so yesterday, baby.”
Pepper smiled.
“You are playing with fire, though,” warned DK.
“This is just for my safety—for our safety. When these people are drunk and high, they talk shit. One day, someone will figure out that I know more than I should and they will have me murdered.”
“I am very uncomfortable with all these recordings. We have quite a few now.”
“Keep them safe.”
“I will.”
“You have to promise me something.”
“Name it.”
“If something ever happens to me, don’t spare these bastards. Release all the recordings. Don’t leave even one out.”
DK preferred not to reply to Pepper’s last statement. At times he felt she was paranoid. He had decided not to see any of the recordings. It was one thing to store recordings for Pepper; it was another to see what was recorded. If indeed these files had something scary, he was better off not knowing.
They stepped from the car and Pepper spotted her driver standing a few feet away. She signaled him to come closer. “Get the car cleaned up,” she ordered. He nodded, trying his best to keep a straight face, knowing which part of the car she wanted to clean. He watched Pepper leave with DK and enter the building, then opened the rear door of the car and imagined how his employer must have performed on that seat. He had seen all her movies and admired her agility and creativity. He had even tried a few poses with his wife, but she turned out to be a disappointment. He looked at the seat
and imagined himself and Pepper making love.
***
For the next five hours, Pepper dedicated herself to the shoot. It was a love scene and had to be shot a couple of times before DK approved it. At some point during the shoot, he had felt that the male artist was deliberately acting poorly. His expressions were unnatural, his movements fake, his voice too loud for a love scene. He does not want to let go of her that quickly, figured DK. It was a male thing and DK was fully aware of it. He was extremely agitated. Poor Pepper must be so tired, he thought.
The shoot wrapped up at two in the morning. Pepper took a shower—something she always did after love scenes—and came to DK dressed in her pajamas.
“My back hurts, Dick.”
“I can understand, darling,” DK replied affectionately.
“I think I have been used too much today.”
“‘Abused’ is the right word.”
“Take me home, DK.” She moved closer to DK and rested her head on his chest.
CHAPTER 8
Hawk’s cell phone rang for a third time in the last few minutes. He reluctantly reached for it, looked at the caller’s picture on the screen, and answered it, cursing him. “Asshole, you better have a good reason.”
“Turn on your television,” Spike said hurriedly.
“It is not even seven in the morning on a weekend. Why should I turn on the television?”
“Do it now.” Spike was adamant.
“What channel?”
“It does not matter.”
Still lying in his bed, Hawk stretched his hand and made a specific gesture to his television. The motion sensor on top picked up the registered hand movement and turned on. He saw a bearded man on the screen and commanded the television to increase the volume.
“What does he want now?” Hawk asked.
“Don’t know, he is cursing the chairman for now. Last time he came on television, he pulled one hell of a stunt. Remember the bus bombing?”
“Yes, I do.”
The man on the screen was talking about Sector One. Live images were being fed from security cameras on the streets.
“How is he hacking into our television networks and security camera feeds?” Hawk asked.
“I have no idea.”
“You are supposed to know. You are in IT.”
“I am a software engineer, not an international terrorist.”
“Our security is so shit. We cannot even protect our systems from a third-rate hacker.” Hawk was upset.
“He is not a third-rate hacker. To do what he is doing and not get caught, he has to be really good.”
The man on the screen was the new face of the terrorist organization that had been troubling the UPF for years. He had recently taken command after the death of their previous leader at the hands of Militia, a much-celebrated event. He was believed to be in his midthirties. His organization called itself the Organization for the Restoration of Religious Freedom—ORRF.
“You have stopped us from going to our places of worship,” said the man. “You have killed our brothers and sisters who were in the act of worship. They were innocent people and their blood is on you. All of us, followers of different religions, stand against you—a state that worships devils. We spit on your systems, your laws and restrictions.”
Hawk had a very bad feeling about what was going to happen. “What time is it in Sector One?”
“Fifteen hours ahead of us, so late night.”
“This is not good, buddy.”
“This is a flourishing city of China,” said the ORRF leader. “You fools have changed its name to Sector One, what a stupid thing indeed. Look at these people, unaware of what is to follow, ignorant of how close they are to their deaths. I will burn this town and its people to ashes, right before your eyes, and you will be unable to do anything.”
The face of the ORRF leader disappeared from the screen and the cameras started zooming out, attempting to capture a wider footage. There were people everywhere—streets, shops, restaurants. Then there was a sudden light flash, followed by the sound of a blast. The images on the screen went white for a few seconds as the cameras adjusted to the intense light and heat produced by the bomb blast.
“Shit! What just happened?” shouted Spike.
Hawk was unable to answer. He watched in horror, waiting for the cameras to show proper images again.
“Has he bombed them?” Spike shouted again. “What the hell is going on?”
A few seconds later the cameras started showing proper images again. All the cameras survived, which meant these images were being captured from a good distance. A scene of utter devastation appeared. What had been a bustling town a few minutes ago had changed to debris on fire. Mercilessly, the cameras started focusing on different parts of the devastation, filling the screen with different images. One of the cameras on the top left of the screen was dedicated to showing scattered body parts. A decapitated torso appeared on the screen and the camera locked on it.
Hawk puked over the side of his bed, despite the fact that he had eaten nothing for the last eight hours. The camera moved to human debris elsewhere, focusing on severed legs, arms, and heads, and shredded intestines. Other cameras on the screen were showcasing damage to infrastructure—buildings on fire, shattered glasses, debris, bricks and mortar. A large crater appeared in the middle of the screen.
“This is what we can do. This is what we will do. You are powerless in front of us,” the ORRF leader said over the images. “We will not stop until we have our freedom.”
The transmission ended and Hawk found himself staring at a music channel. He quickly turned off the television and reached for the napkins on his bedside with his right hand, his left hand still holding the phone to his ear.
“Oh my God, this is so bad,” Hawk finally managed to say. “They just killed innocent people. They can kill anyone, anywhere.”
“I hope Militia finds this bastard soon.”
“I need to go, Spike. I need to clean up.”
“What happened?”
“I puked. I cannot stomach these images. This is cruel savagery.”
“OK, take care.” Spike hung up.
Hawk got out of the bed, making an effort not to step on his vomit. It would take days to get those horrific images out of his head. As a young boy, he had fretted over seeing horror movies. In the spirit of friendship, he would reluctantly follow his friends to theaters and watch horror movies, but regret it later. And that was fiction. What he saw just now was real—those dead people were real; the buildings set ablaze were real. He thought about the people as they were blown into pieces, as they burned to death. Did they die instantly? Did they suffer? Was it painful? He could not stop his mind from thinking about the incident. Stupid Spike, why did he have to wake me up? Hawk stepped into the shower, cursing Spike for ruining his morning.
Back in his apartment, Spike was also reflecting on the incidents of this morning. He marveled at how ORRF managed to get away with these acts. It is not easy to hack into a secured network, he reflected. One needs trained people and high-end equipment worth millions of dollars. One needs to be good at hiding digital footprints, otherwise Militia could easily find out the source of the transmissions and hacks. How is all this even possible? How do they source explosive material? Who are their suppliers? Who transports it for them? Who makes sophisticated bombs? Why they are never caught?
He thought about calling Ken and talking to him about this. After a brief moment of reflection, he decided against it. Ken was not in his right mind these days and would probably come up with some weird story again. For now, Spike decided to drop the subject. Let Militia do their job, he thought. I am sure there is a perfectly good explanation for all this.
***
A few hours later, at the head office of the UPF, the chairman and CEOs of Technology and Militia were watching the coverage of the morning’s incident. The recordings played over and over again. There was no one else in the room to observe the meeti
ng, and voice and video recorders had been switched off.
“Both of you know what needs to be done,” said Chairman Izzy.
The two CEOs nodded in affirmation.
“Fire the people responsible for this lapse in security. Place a ban on their reemployment for three years. Let them fret and fear the annual draws. There shall be no delays in relief and restoration efforts. I want that place rebuilt within months. I am scheduled to go on air later today. I will announce that we will make good all losses and restore every building to its original specifications. I will also announce compensation for lost lives and for the wounded.”
The CEOs nodded again.
“Now if you will excuse me, I need to make an important phone call.”
The CEOs left the chairman’s office and she reached for her cell phone. The call she needed to make now ought to be made from a secured line. Her cell phone was the only secure line in her office.
The Commander’s cell phone buzzed and he looked at the screen. There was no number displayed, yet he knew exactly who it was—he had been expecting her call since the incident. He accepted the call and lifted the phone to his ear.
“Joshua,” said the woman on the other end.
“Chairman,” replied the Commander.
“It hurts me every time you call me Chairman.”
There was no reply from the Commander.
“How are you doing, Joshua?”
“Thinking through my options,” replied the Commander.
“This thing is looking very bad for me. I am being criticized very heavily for your appointment as head of Counterterrorism.”
“I can resign if it helps.”
“And abandon me? Leave me?”
Once again, the Commander chose to stay silent.
“Where do we stand on ORRF?” the Chairman asked.
“I believe I have a very strong lead, but it will take more time. It is unfortunate that I cannot speed up things.”
“Do what you have to do; I am counting on you. CEO of Militia questions your appointment on every possible forum. I am taking a lot of heat.”