by R. A. Lamb
Private
No Admittance
As I approached the door to the office opened and I saw Emuri seated at a desk telling something to a man with dark complexion, black hair and close cropped beard while he pointed at the laptop monitor.
A voice behind me said, “Looking for something buddy?”
I turned and stared at a guy four inches taller than me and built like a weight lifter. The guy wore a T&A logo tee shirt, dark slacks and I was sure none of my black belt moves would do any good. “Yeah, where’s the restroom?”
The guy pointed. I nodded and headed through the curtains to the foyer and out the front door. I learned all I was going to learn. Kathy was waiting in the car with the motor running and a cell phone in her hand.
“You’re late.” She pulled away from the curb. “Promise me you’ll never do such a stupid thing again.”
“I promise but…” And I explained what I had seen only omitting the part about the brass pole. “We did find another location where the terrorists hang out. That counts, right?”
It was a quiet ride back.
Kat was calmer when we were inside the apartment. I sank down on the couch. The speakers monitoring the terrorists’ living room were quiet. I tapped the enter key on the computer and an empty room came into view. I stared at the screen and saw it. The case that Hendricks had was on the floor by the couch.
“They’ll be back. There’s Hendricks’ case,” I motioned to Kat. She sat down beside me and we stared at the case in the empty room.
“I’ve been thinking, Todd. Maybe we’ve taken this as far as we can without help. Do you think it’s time to call Agent Holland?”
“I told you, Kat, I want to make sure we find Alkobar. He’s the key. The terrorists’ success depends on him. Let’s wait a little longer before we call.”
“You’ve tried, Todd. No one can say you haven’t. But I don’t see what else we can do.”
“The case, Kat, if I could get a tube from the case then maybe Holland can tell what they’re up to.”
“There’s no way unless you break in and then they’ll know.”
“There’s a way. I can go through the attic, climb down the folding ladder into their hallway and get to the case. I’ll be in and out in two minutes.”
“It’s too dangerous. What if they came in while you’re inside?”
“I can do it. You can watch the front. If one of them arrives you can ring my cell phone. I’ll pop back up into the attic and no one will know. It’s worth a shot.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. The risk is too great.”
“This could be a key to their plans. It’s worth it,” I picked up a flashlight from the kitchen table and headed for the hall.
I couldn’t believe how hot the attic was. I carefully made my way around the air conditioner blower and hot water heater to the terrorists’ attic entrance. The sweat was dripping off me; the hot air burned my nose as I inhaled. I pushed their attic door downward and felt the cool rush of air from below. As I lowered the ladder I dropped my flashlight. It landed and half buried in the loose insulation which covered the attic floor, the beam casted a round light on the roof. I dug for it and stuck the handle in my back pocket. It was the only weapon I had. Getting down the ladder was the easy part. I made my way to the terrorists’ living room, picked up the case and set it on the coffee table. I had this silly thought, looked up at the ceiling air conditioning vent and waved at Kat.
I put one of the yellow tubes in my belt and returned the case to the floor.
That’s when I heard the rumble of a motorcycle. A moment later my cell phone vibrated, “Ponytail just pulled up. Get out of there.”
Chapter 17
I didn’t need to be told twice and rushed to the folding ladder. I made it to the attic and pulled up the attic door as I heard the front door open. I carefully made my way back to our apartment.
“Whew, that was close,” I rubbed the back of my sweaty hand across my forehead.
“What’s that on your arm Todd?”
“Ah nothing, just some insulation I picked up in the attic. Boy was it hot up there. See what I got,” I set the yellow tube on the kitchen table.
Kat rolled it with her fingers, “I never saw anything like this. What do you think it is?”
“Don’t know, but it may have something to do with their plan for the Fourth’s celebration. If it does, Hank will know how to deal with it.”
Kat glanced away. “Todd, look at this,” Kat motioned me to the computer screen.
Ponytail slipped a backpack off his shoulder and set it beside the case. He went to the kitchen and returned with a beer, slipped off his shirt and flopped down on the sofa.
He finished it as Hendricks came in carrying a sack of groceries and a six pack. “Steaks and beer tonight, Freddie. How did your meeting go?”
“Bloody hell, you’re alright Hendricks. The meeting? Okay. It went okay. Alkobar gave me that pack,” Ponytail pointed.
Jamie Hendricks walked over and hoisted it with one hand and picked something else up from the carpet with the other.
“You’re tracking things in on those boots, Freddie.”
“What do you mean, Gov?”
“Looks like rock wool.”
“Wool?”
“Insulation,” Hendricks replied.
My heart nearly stopped as I looked at some insulation still sticking to my arm.
“Oh God,” Kat whispered.
“You ought to be more careful, Freddie. Wipe your feet on the mat next time.” Hendricks rolled it into a little ball between his fingers and threw it in the wastebasket.
“Whew, we dodged another one, Cowboy,” Kat let out a long breath.
“Hendricks looked at the coffee table. I wonder when Housad will get back?”
“He’s a strange one, Hendricks, where did he go anyway?”
“Not sure but he was meeting with a contact who could launder money. Strange or not, wish him luck. By the way, Freddie, have you looked in the pack,” Hendricks placed it on the coffee table?
“Not yet but it has some weight to it.”
“Let’s see,” muttered Hendricks, “wire, batteries, roll of tape, some tools and a big bag of nails. That ought to about do it.”
Ponytail rubbed his stomach, “I’m hungry. Let’s cook the steaks.”
Kat and I watched Hendricks put the things away and drop the pack by the case.
Kat looked at the yellow cylinder on their table. “What do you think we should do with this?”
“Not sure but I’m thinking we do need to let Hank have a look at it.”
“How do you propose we do that? If he knows where we are he’ll be sure to put us in protective custody.”
“I know and I remember how safe that was.” I stood there staring at the cylinder. “What if we stash it like we did the pictures then tell him where it is?”
“And that would be…”
“Maybe a locker at the bus station.”
“What if they have security?”
“Kat, do you still have that membership at that fitness center?”
“You want to use my locker?”
I winked, “Works for me.”
The next morning I drove Kat to the center and she deposited a gym bag with the cylinder inside it into her locker. As we drove away I dialed Hank.
“Holland.”
“Hank before you go ballistic I have something important to tell you.”
“I guess your call means you and Kathy are still alive,” Hank said sarcastically.
“We miss you to. Here’s the deal.” I told him what we had and where to find it. “The locker attendant can let you into her locker. It’s number 126.” I decided telling Hank about Club T&A could wait.
“I suppose you’re going to disappear again.”
“That’s what you told us to do. Seriously Hank, we have an eye on the terrorist’s cell. Alkobar’s not there but we think they will lead us to him. We’ll le
t you know when they do.”
“What I said was disappear somewhere safe, not mount your own investigation.”
“Well how close are you to finding them?”
The phone was silent.
“I meant that as a joke, Hank. Will you let us know what you find out about that cylinder in Kat’s locker? My cell number is --”
“It’s just been handed to me. We’ll check things out and then we’ll see.” Hank ended the call.
I glanced at Kat, “He’s pissed.”
“Do you blame him?”
Back at the apartment we had a surprise on the laptop screen. Emuri and a stranger were sitting on the couch in the terrorist’s living room. The stranger was cleaning an Uzi. There were several weapons laying on the coffee table, another Uzi and two automatic handguns. I couldn’t tell how tall the man was but he had dark curly hair, a swarthy complexion, sharp nose and heavy eyebrows. The man had apparently finished what he was doing, reached for a clip and snapped it into the weapon, pulled the injection slide and set it on the table. I noticed the backpack still on the floor but Hendricks’s case was gone.
The stranger’s cell phone rang. He answered and reached into his shirt pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He listened and lighted one, blowing a puff of smoke at the AC vent and our hidden camera. The terrorist leaned back and put his legs on the table as he listened. Kat and I could see the blue tattoo above his sneaker. It disappeared under his jeans. There was no doubt he was part of blue barbed wire cell.
My phone rang. Kat and I jumped, guess we were both nervous. I put it on speaker. It was Hank.
“That cylinder was filled with Semtex.”
“Semtex,” I questioned?
“It’s a plastic explosive used by the military and popular with terrorists. That stick could have blown up half the fitness center. You two are in over your heads. I think it’s time--.”
“Todd look,” Kat interrupted.
On the laptop screen we saw Ponytail, a short stocky man and a girl about Kat’s age with long jet black hair, enter the front door.
“Hank three more people just entered the terrorists’ apartment. That makes five of them. They’re greeting each other and taking seats around the coffee table.”
“You mean you two have eyes inside the terrorists’ cell? Just how close are you?”
I avoided the question. It would just make Hank more upset. “We can also hear them but they’re talking in a foreign language. Now Ponytail is unfolding… It looks like a map. He’s pointing at the girl and now to the map. Looks like something is going down.”
I looked at Kat. She nodded. “Hank we think we need your help.”
“You damn well needed it some time ago. Tell me where you are and stay on the line. I have a team on standby. We’re on our way.”
We heard Hank issuing orders and the sound of rapid footsteps. Car doors slammed and the sound of screeching tires.
I told Hank the terrorists’ address, described them and the weapons we saw. I didn’t tell him yet we were right next door.
“We’re about fifteen minutes out. What are they doing now?”
“Still talking about the map. Wait the girl is getting up. Looks like she’s leaving and taking Ponytail’s backpack. He just shouted something about the Fourth of July. She waved and is going out the door. Where are you now?”
“Almost there. Two minutes out maybe. Now where are you?”
I gave Hank the address.
Kat and I heard a string of expletives. “That’s next door. You must have a death wish. We have you in sight.”
We heard Hank say, “Gregson, Chambers cover the back. Bruster, you and Miller take positions in front. Tell the others what to do. I’ll check the visuals where Todd and Kathy are. Wait for my command. Let’s roll.”
Kat opened the door and motioned to Hank. He burst in carrying a shotgun. I could see he was wearing a Kevlar vest under his open suit jacket. All I could think to do was point my finger at the laptop and grin.
I could see Hank’s lips tighten. Guess he was trying not to say the things he was thinking.
Finally Hank said, “Stupid kids. You’re one thin wall from bad trouble.”
Kat and Hank and I watched the terrorists.
I whispered, “That’s Ponytail folding the map. He works at Black Dragon Fireworks. That’s how Kat and I found this place. We don’t know the others. They just showed up this morning. Hendricks is missing. He hasn’t been here all day.”
Hank spoke into his headset, “Red Team, Blue Team, are you in place?”
On the monitor I saw one of the terrorists walk toward their front window. His shout blared in the speakers. Ponytail and the short stocky guy reached for the guns on the coffee table. Housad al Emuri grabbed his laptop and put it in a leather case. Ponytail shouted something and ran toward the back. The short stocky man raised his Uzi and shot from the hip. The front window shattered. The lamp on the terrorists’ end table exploded as the FBI returned fire. Emuri hid behind the couch. The other terrorists turned the heavy coffee table over for cover and fired bursts out the front window and through the door.
Hank shouted into his headset, “Blue Team, Blue Team did you say man down?”
The stocky terrorist half raised and shot another burst through the window. Hank shouted to Kat and me, “Get down. Stay down.” He raised the shotgun, stared at the monitor then pumped three loads through our inside wall into the terrorists’ apartment.
The sound was deafening. Kat and I held each other, crouched, frozen on the floor and stared up at the screen. The terrorist looked toward the hole of Hank’s first shot and returned fire, was knocked sidewise by the second and backward as the third caught him squarely in the chest.
A flash bang grenade came through the terrorists’ window and exploded on the floor next to their coffee table. Suddenly there was nothing to see on the laptop screen but smoke. Kat and I heard the splintering of the terrorists’ front door and shots.
A brief silence was broken by one of the FBI team shouting, “It’s clear. Bogies down, one alive.”
Hank’s right arm hung at his side, the shotgun slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. I could see blood running down Hank’s wrist and dripping from his knuckles to the carpet. Sirens blared in the distance.
Hank tugged off his suit coat with his good hand. His shirt sleeve was red from his upper arm down. Kat and I heard his words loud and clear.
“The rules haven’t changed as long as Alkobar is out there. Find a place. I mean a safe place and check in with me. If Alkobar knew you were part of this he would go berserk.” Hank reached into his pants pocket and handed something to Kat. It looked like a small calculator.
“It’s a GPS locator, he said. It activates when you press the multiplier key twice. Now get out of here before the crowd arrives.”
The sirens were louder. Kat and I knew better than to argue.
It took us a full day to get resettled. First we drove to Alexandria and stopped in one of those apartment locator offices. The agent pointed us to some short term furnished, corporate apartments. On our third try we found a unit immediately available with one bedroom, a living area, kitchen and small study. The study had a couch which pulled out into a bed. The manager was happy with a cash deposit and a month’s rent paid in advance. Our next step was shopping for the things we had abandoned.
Kat loved to shop and our credit cards still worked. The corporate pad, as I called it, had a pool and hot tub in an enclosed common area which only the residents had access to. Next to it through some sliding glass doors in the main building, and next to the manager’s office, was an exercise room. Not a lot of equipment but enough to break a sweat. So far, so good, I thought.
We ordered in a pepperoni pizza, with black olives on half and extra cheese. To celebrate we opened a screw top bottle of red wine. I flicked on the TV and surfed with the remote.
“I didn’t know we got HBO.” I picked off a black olive which ha
d gotten on my slice of pepperoni and set it on my plate.
Kat reached over, picked up the olive half and placed it on the tip of her tongue. She stared directly into his eyes. The olive slowly disappeared into her mouth.
“You don’t know if you like it unless you try it, Cowboy.” She ran the tip of her tongue along her lips.
“Oh I’ve tried them. They’re okay. Say, do you want to watch a flick after we call Hank?”
“Sure,” Kat said abruptly, “You choose,” and she reached for another slice.
What brought that on, I thought? I guess I’ll never understand women.
Chapter 18
After dinner we called Hank on our new disposable phone.
“Holland.”
“Hank, hello, I’ve put you on speaker, how badly were you hurt?”
“No broken bones, just a nasty chunk out of my arm. I’ll be in the hospital overnight then wear a sling. I won’t be doing pushups for a while.”
“We’re glad you’re okay. Anyway did any of the terrorist’s tell you anything about Alkobar?”
“Here’s the latest. Two terrorists are dead the other, a skinny guy with light complexion is in the hospital. He hasn’t told us anything yet but we did recover a laptop.”
“That’s his, Hank. He was brought in by Alkobar to raise and launder money for their operations.”
“How do you know all this?”
I ignored the question. “His name is Housad al Emuri and one of the places he uses is the T & A Club on Connecticut Avenue. His contact has a dark complexion, dark hair and beard, probably the manager.”
“Todd.”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”
“I can’t wait to hear.”
“And Hank, we saw four of them in the room when the shooting started. What about Ponytail?”
“He’s missing. We found the pull down door to the attic wasn’t quite closed. Guess he climbed up there and down through another apartment. He’s in the wind. Now how are you two?”