Hell on Earth

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  In the car on the way over to our meet, I caution Jafar because I see that high tech gleam in his eye. “Keep in mind when people are involved in any aspect of this type work, they have mass and take up space. Our employers will have stuff in place by now to track every single person parking a vehicle or walking by, into, or near Jack London Inn. We will not trust their surveillance. You and I will go over everything they have so far together after we leave and every day thereafter. Think of this gig like the old X-Files show: trust no one. No matter how much high tech gear you have it all comes down to people.”

  Jafar nods like he understands so I go on because I doubt he does. “Don’t over think either. Using instinct for what you know about people will surpass anything you do with the gear. We don’t want to react to scumbags. We want to outthink scumbags. When you see the Secret Service with their revolving heads, ear pieces, and sunglasses, they’re the last line of defense after thousands of man hours failed to predict and filter out danger.”

  “I think I get it. You don’t want me pretending this is a video game.”

  I chuckle. That was cute. Maybe the kid does get it. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  I parked a couple blocks away from Jack London Inn. As we walked toward the Inn, I watched Jafar in the fading light. When we came abreast of the Inn, I led him into the parking structure.

  “What do you think?”

  “Not very scenic in front but very nice for protecting someone. That out of business Borders bookstore building across the street hardly has any windows. The Embarcadero is wide and with the parking garage right under the Inn, we don’t have to be out in the open when we escort the young woman. The water’s on the other side so...”

  Jafar hesitates before going on. “We will have to check for boats on the water which have a clear view of the room where she stays.”

  “You’re a natural, kid.” I’m impressed and I don’t get impressed easily. “The boat would have to be a goodly distance from shore to get line of sight on her room. I’m glad Denny didn’t choose the Jack London Waterfront Inn over there by the water. Too much access and visibility. Let’s go meet her. I think you’ll like the layout in here too. It’s a little seedy, but the Inn has a lot going for it if you’re protecting one of the guests. When I’ve been hired to bodyguard someone visiting the Bay Area I recommend the Inn if they’re not too concerned with ambience. It’s in the middle of Jack London Square and they can take the ferry over to Pier 41 in San Francisco or get there by BART train. Also Jack London Square station is nearby to catch AMTRAK anywhere inland.”

  “Do you get hired to bodyguard people often,” Jafar asks as we enter the Inn.

  “Six or seven times a year. My manager Tommy lines that stuff up. He has a website for advertising our services.”

  “As what, a head-breaker?”

  “No, smart-ass. Tommy gets us into the search engines for finding people, especially the skip traces. We do maybe four or five a month from bond agencies out of state. He advertises us as a guardian type service too.”

  I get the lady at the service desk to buzz the suite. Dennis has her send us up.

  We don’t get intercepted on the way to the room so I figure Dennis has the suite floor ringed with his own people. The door opens to the suite as Jafar and I get close. Dennis gives me a grand gesture to come inside. The Jack London Inn suites are pretty good sized. This one had a gorgeous ocean view but for the buildings between the Inn and the pier. Dennis had wisely pulled all the curtains for safety. Samira Karim stood up from the couch as we walked in. All grown up from the little girl I remembered with the big haunted eyes, this young woman waiting calmly with welcoming smile had clearly aged into a confident adult. She wore a modest ankle length burgundy dress which fitted tightly at all the right places if my sideward glance at Jafar meant anything. I estimated her height around five and a half feet tall with an extra inch added from the slight lift her black high heeled shoes gave her. Samira’s face had matured into soft fullness from the lean hard features of childhood. A black veil controlled her shoulder length black hair. Next to Samira sat a huge black German shepherd dog with tongue lolling as he glanced from us to his mistress.

  The dog looked very much like the mutt my squad had in Afghanistan. When we lost Rocky in a firefight, I swore off ever having an animal. Funny how a squad of killers could wipe out a dozen attacking men without blinking and cry when their damn dog gets it. Yeah, Samira and her damn dog were yanking up memories I buried a long time ago. She walked toward me with hand outstretched. I clasped it carefully in my mitt.

  “It is very good to see you again, John.”

  She had mastered perfect English with a very slight accent. “You are all grown up, little one.”

  Samira giggled as Dennis now stood next to her observing us in that annoying know-it-all way he has. “I have not heard ‘little one’ in a long time. My Father apologizes for asking your assistance in watching out for me here. He told me to remind you of your debt to him of five dollars.”

  I nodded my understanding. I had bet the old coot Samira would be married by the time she was fifteen. “You probably stayed single to make me lose my bet and your old man didn’t marry you off just to spite me.”

  I gestured at Jafar who had remained quiet without the initial drooling look on his face. “This is Jafar Kensington. He works with me now. Kid, this is Dennis Strobert and Samira Karim.”

  Dennis leaned forward to shake hands with Jafar. “John’s told me a lot about you. Luckily for you it’s proven to be true so far from our investigation.”

  Jafar shook his hand but gave Dennis nothing except a slight smile. He turned toward Samira and held out his hand. “I am happy to meet you.”

  The teens’ hands clasped and the kid looked into Samira’s eyes as if he had known her all his life. Samira blushed. Dennis grinned and gave me a slight nod of acknowledgement.

  “I… I too am pleased to meet you, Mr. Kensington.”

  “Just Jafar would be very nice.” Jafar looks at me while still holding on to Samira’s hand. “That would be much better than kid.”

  She laughed appreciatively at Jafar’s adlib while not pulling out of his grasp. “I am Samira. Will you be with John when he escorts me?”

  “Jafar will be your escort, Samira,” I answered for Jafar. “He will be next to you at all times while I listen and watch. Will that be okay with you?”

  “Yes, it would.” Samira releases Jafar’s hand finally. “I hope we can avoid pictures or my Father will surely fly here in a panic.”

  “It would serve him right for not arranging a marriage for you already. If he sees a picture of you and Jafar together your old man will have a handpicked husband on the tarmac when you return with my five bucks.”

  Samira laughed. “He misses you giving him the…the needle. And what of you Jafar? Do you think my Father will have a husband awaiting me if he sees pictures of us together?”

  To my surprise Jafar bowed slightly, looking down away from Samira. “It would not be my place to know such a thing. I would be very grateful though to have a picture of us together.”

  Samira reached up and patted Jafar’s cheek. “You shall have more than one.”

  Oh man, when I’m right, I’m right. Samira had hardly glanced at me since her introduction to Jafar. The dog and I however were bonding. The big wolf stared at me like I had a pork chop tied around my neck. I knelt on one knee and held out my hand to him. He jutted forward with his head under my hand. When I scratched his head, the mutt’s wagging tail and body bumped up against me.

  “Naji,” Samira whispered, surprise on her face as she looked away from Jafar for the first time. “He has never done that with any stranger before, John. Naji is polite but very protective.”

  “John had a dog back before he met your family,” Dennis chirped in like an irritating little bird. “What was that mutt’s name… Rocky – it was Rocky. Did he ever make it back?”

  “The Rock bought it near Marj
ah. Naji, huh?” I clasp Naji’s face in my hands. “So your name means safe. Do you keep Samira safe?”

  “Arf!”

  “You… you made him speak. Even I cannot make him speak. A soldier on the base gave him to me when he was only a puppy two years ago and helped me train him.”

  “I’m glad you have him. No human can be as wary of danger. If he’s good in a crowd I’d like you to have him with you at all times.”

  “Naji never leaves my side. I hope you like him, Jafar.” Samira knelt next to Naji, holding him around the neck. She reached up and took Jafar’s hand, guiding it to Naji’s head. Jafar stroked the dog’s head while Samira kept her hand on Jafar’s. I could tell Naji understood as his tail wagged in acceptance of his mistress’s message.

  I didn’t have to worry about Jafar. Samira could have been guiding his hand onto a thirty foot long python’s head and Jafar would have gone along with it. Dennis motioned for me to break away for a meeting.

  “You two get to know each other while I talk things over with Dennis.”

  Outside the suite Dennis gestures back at the room. “How’d you know that would work?”

  “Gee Denny, I don’t do the touchy feely stuff too well. I would have figured you’d have picked up on the whole birds and bees thing a while back. I can recommend a good book that-”

  “Shut up!” Dennis laughs. “Okay, I had that coming. You finished now?”

  “I had a feeling about Jafar. He’s more savvy than you’d ever figure on. Intuitive is a better word. If I can keep him in my new business plan, he’ll make me a fortune. It wouldn’t hurt if he gets involved with Samira. I can foresee in these times I’ll be able to interest you folks in Dark Government with many projects using my two private contractors.”

  Dennis stopped smiling. “Why you… don’t even think about it, Harding. You recruit for me. What the hell do you think this is? We’re not letting you extort money from us on work done by our own employees.”

  “Want to try keeping them without me?”

  “Damn it, John, what’s gotten into you?”

  “Distrust. If I’m not in full control of those two, you’ll get them killed. Besides, I’ll have a cover for them you won’t come close to. Best make up your mind because it’s my way or the highway, old buddy.”

  Dennis tries to play the blackmail card. “We own your ass.”

  “Do you really want to play that card with me?”

  Dennis looks away with a big sigh. “No. I’ll make some calls. In the meantime our first gig is on Friday night at the Afghan Center in Fremont. We had to move it into first place over the Alameda Fairgrounds. It will be a small gathering with many of the local leaders.”

  “That’s rushing it a little. How’s your intel on the place?”

  “Excellent. It’s been under surveillance since 911. We have a database with every single person that ever stepped foot on the property. I’ll get your team electronic notepads with the database on them, including facial recognition software to help ID our Claude Chardin. I’d be surprised if Chardin tried something at a place with so little cover though, which of course worries the hell out of me.”

  “That’s why you have me, scapegoats incorporated.”

  “Have you had a chance to research Chardin?”

  “Yeah. He’s pretty impressive.” Chardin had done over fifty specialty hits the CIA knew about. He was only suspected of three inside the US and they were Mexican Drug Cartel hits on dealers. The rest had been done in Europe and the Middle East – politicians, financiers, weapons dealers, and witnesses. “So, if Samira really isn’t his target you’re thinking he might want to make himself known to local leaders? How does that help him pull off something substantial?”

  “Like I told you the other night, we just don’t know for sure. All we have is chatter. Make yourself familiar with any strangers and we’ll take it from there. That doesn’t mean there won’t be attempts on the girl’s life but they’ll probably come from the run of the mill Islamist nut-jobs that see insults to Islam everywhere. My take on this whole thing is if Chardin shows at all it will be to blend in. He’s no suicide bomber. Anything he agreed to do will be in a supervisory role with an escape hatch. You can bet he will have a nearly impenetrable cover, possibly even with diplomatic ties.”

  I see something flash in Strobert’s eyes and suddenly a lot of things become clearer. “There’s no possibly in this diplomatic ties crapolla, Denny. You have some intel on him having diplomatic immunity from one of our supposed ally nations, don’t you? He’d be able to float around at these shindigs while meeting with cell members in completely innocent ways. Once you have all the players, you need Mr. Chardin to disappear without implicating America in the assassination of a person with diplomatic credentials.”

  Dennis nodded. “We believe he’ll come in with Pakistani delegation ties. It would be awkward if he somehow survives this.”

  “And even more awkward if I get caught sanctioning his ass.”

  “Don’t get caught.”

  Boy, I’m really out there on this job. At least I’m not overseas. I decide it’s time to fill Strobert in on Tess’s more than coincidental meet up with Alexi Fiialkov. He smiles like I’m telling him a tall tale until he hears who the grandfather was waiting in the room.

  “What the hell’s all that about? It sounds like Connagher may have drawn Alexi’s interest, but in what way… as a lawyer maybe?”

  “The meeting seemed convincing and I doubt Fiialkov knew I’d be there because I got roped into attending at the last minute. I wouldn’t put it past him to use his family, but I doubt he’d be able to pull it off with his Granddaughter. He may have wanted to use Tess to get at me as some leverage. He’d get my attention that way but not in the way he thinks. I bet you’re wondering if Alexi knows about Tess’s firm doing odd jobs for the Company, aren’t you?”

  “Oh yeah,” Dennis replied. “I’d bet Mr. Fiialkov didn’t bargain on an anal exam for his holdings until I find out one way or another. Keep me apprised of any more coincidences. We better go back inside before your boy gets too well acquainted with Samira.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Planning

  I follow him inside. Samira and Jafar are sitting at the small table drinking tea with Naji lying at their feet. They look like they’re having a good time.

  “John and I have worked out most of the initial details so we can call it a night.”

  I smile, seeing disappointment on our young couple’s faces. “We’ll be getting together again soon, kids.”

  “I wish to dine at Jack London Square tomorrow night and see the sights across the bay, John. I know I am bait for something. Perhaps I can wiggle around on the hook outside of the hotel.”

  I look sharply at Dennis but I see surprise on his face as he peers at his young charge. I have no objections. I’m getting paid to be on call. “Very well, but know this young lady, we’re carrying out your ‘speak out on Islam’ plans. You jumped on the hook but I’ll let you wiggle around as much as you want. I’m not your Mommy. We’ll pick you up at six, Samira. That okay with you, Denny?”

  “As long as the other two members of your team are along, it’s okay with me. Will you have enough time to brief them?”

  Samira was laughing at my comment while Jafar cast a frightened glance at me. “You are still very funny, John.” She turned to Jafar and squeezed his hand. “He could even make us laugh in an Afghan cave.”

  “I’ll call Tommy and Dev when I get home. Will you have the limo you want us to take ready?”

  “It will be here ready for your dinner date although we’re right across the street from the Square’s best restaurants. We’ll drive around before your man drops us off in front of the Square just so we can scan the area for things out of place. We’re not using you as bait, Samira. As John put it, you have chosen a dangerous path and we will help you navigate it as best we can.”

  “My own Father thinks I am crazy,” Samira replied with all
levity aside. “I must speak out. Beatings, honor killings, suicide bombings, and subjugation of women should not be active ingredients in a religion advocating peace. I do not want the Jewish race marched into the sea to appease tyrants who no longer even know why they hate. These so called leaders will step too far one day and my people will be erased from this earth in rightful retribution. I can no longer look away.”

  I needed to get Jafar out of here. He was staring at Samira like she was Joan of Arc. “We’re with you young lady. Maybe we can find a way to get your message out without you becoming a martyr and still take care of some bait business. We’ll take the ferry across to the Pier 39 area after we eat. You’ll love the ferry boat ride and be able to pick up some knickknacks in the stores over there. There’s not much variety around the Square for souvenirs.”

  “I would love to go on the ferryboat, John.”

  “Let’s go, Jafar. Say goodbye.”

  While the two kids ogled each other during a parting hand shake, I petted the attentive Naji. “If we’re taking Naji along tomorrow night, we may have to eat outside.”

  “I do not mind, John. I am more interested in seeing the shops and marina rather than formal dining. Perhaps you can stay with Naji while I go inside the many places of interest across the bay with Jafar.”

  “If it’s not too cold they have great clam chowder we can eat outside across the Bay. Small shops will be okay - large shops I’ll stay with Naji while Jafar and my crew go in with you. I need to see who goes in after you do rather than react inside anyway.” I patted Naji’s head a final time and yanked Jafar toward the door. “See you soon. G’night Denny.”

  Denny gave me a little wave and the kids kept their eyes locked on each other until I pulled the door closed on the suite. “Ever hear of the term ‘playing hard to get’?”

  “She…she is gorgeous… and very intelligent,” Jafar managed to finally blurt out while glancing back at the door furtively as we walked away. He seemed to be expecting Samira to run after him as if they were Romeo and Juliet.