by Terry Keys
Chapter 65
Over the next fifteen minutes I sent texts out to DeLuca, Hill, Mullinski, and my wife. Then I headed back to the airport.
It took me fifteen minutes, but I found the Uber driver I’d stiffed and asked him to meet me at the airport so I could settle my debt. At first he resisted, but eventually he gave in.
As I waited for him in the front of the airport, I turned my attention to a TV screen that was mounted above me. President Brown was approaching the podium.
“Good evening, fellow Americans and citizens around the world. Today I can happily report that the United States has conducted an operation that has killed the men responsible for the untimely deaths of Akio Yoshida, Sivan Awad, my dear friend Jackie Wilson, and every other person that was murdered that dreadful night. A vile terrorist group known as God’s Warriors believed to have been led by Abu Yallah and Hasan Goran are both dead. These men were killed by a U.S. drone strike less than twenty-four hours ago. They were numbers two and three in this violent terrorist group. U.S. intelligence is confident that the leader of God’s Warriors, a coward who goes by the name of El Printo, is still at large. To him I say this: the full might of the United States military is hunting you. No one has ever evaded capture or death when the United States has named them public enemy number one. Tonight, El Printo, I give you that designation. Wherever you hide, from the highest mountaintop to the lowest valley on Earth, we will find you. So you run, hide like the coward you are. Dance in the shadows, and know that we are hunting you.
“To the other countries around the world—the United States will remain bold, and we will continue to be the light that the world can look to in its darkest hours. If you are sick, we will care for you. If you are unclothed, we will clothe you. If you are hungry, we will feed you. If you are oppressed, we will rescue you. With great power comes great responsibility—a responsibility that these United States will never take lightly. The great Martin Luther King said it best: ‘Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.’ As long as there is injustice, America will be there to fight. To fight for freedom for all men and women.”
As the president spoke dozens of people gathered around the TV monitor. The country had been shaken almost to its knees and everyone it seemed was desperate for reassurance.
“Today’s triumph does not signify the end of our effort. God’s Warriors and the murderous groups like them will continue to attack America and our values. But we will remain strong. I must remind you that our war is not with the people of the Middle East. It is also not a war against Islam. America is at war against murder. America is at war against terror. America is at war against anyone who threatens peace and their fellow man’s right to it.
“Tonight I can proudly say to you that justice has been served. I would like to send a special thank you to the men and women of the United States military. These men and women acted bravely, and we must not forget their continued sacrifices.
“Some of you may have heard that foreign troops have landed on US soil with the intent to cause us harm. This could not be further from the truth. Foreign troops landed a few hours ago in order to secure their leaders and take them home. I report to you tonight that all of the world leaders who were here for the religious summit have safely left our shores and are now returning to their homelands.
“Many of you are probably wondering if we will abandon the work that was started by President Wilson. The answer is no. We will not succumb to fear and terror. During the remainder of my term we will resume the religious summit and begin to heal and build bridges around the globe.
“America and her allies are stronger than ever. We have a tough job to do, but America has proven time and again that we will succeed. Our resolve is unwavering, our fight too important.
“To my dear friend Jackie Wilson—you left this earth too soon. I will love you and miss you always. I will finish the fight you started. Rest easy, dear friend.
“Thank you. God bless America, and God bless the world.”
President Brown was correct about El Printo and all of our enemies. They weren’t going to all of a sudden take up knitting and decide to start playing nicely with us. I’d spent a lot of time reading about the conflict between America and the Middle East. For many of them, America was their oppressor. They believed it enough to take their own lives for the cause. That required deep devotion and commitment to a cause. They weren’t going to be swayed or changed overnight.
My phone buzzed. It was Chief Hill.
“Good work, Porter. I want you to know you are valued beyond words. I got your new guys approved. They both have old business to finish up, but we should see them here in Houston in about a month or so. Oh and you are on vacation, effective immediately.”
“Thanks, Chief. I’ll let the missus know about the vacation. Can I turn my phone off this time?”
Chapter 66
I’d told Miranda and the girls that I’d be arriving at gate thirteen. The truth was, I’d be arriving at gate four.
I stepped off the plane and scurried over to the luggage conveyor. After two minutes I finally saw my lone bag. I still didn’t understand why I hadn’t been allowed to carry-on.
The Houston sun beamed brightly in the sky. It felt good to be back home. About one hundred yards ahead, I saw my girls. Both Hilary and Karen were head down glued to their cell phones, if I had to guess. Miranda had her head buried in a book. Each of them had their backs to me, so finishing off this surprise would be a breeze.
“You guys waiting for someone?” I said.
Karen turned around and her eyes lit up. “Daddy!” she squealed.
Miranda stood, put her hands on her hips, and gave me the usual look of disapproval.
I swooped down, picked Karen up, and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Hey, sugar. You miss me?”
“That’s a silly question, Daddy. I always miss you. Can we practice softball today?”
“Hmmm. I don’t know . . .”
“Please, Daddy?”
Miranda nudged me. “Hey, do you mind sharing some of this with me?”
I put Karen down and took Miranda in my arms. “You know it!” I said.
My eyes drifted over to Hilary, who smiled but wasn’t nearly as excited to see me. I’d come to expect that from my almost-adult daughter.
“I thought Chris was coming with you?” I said to her, breaking away from Miranda and planting a kiss on my oldest daughter’s forehead, much to her dismay.
“He was, but he got invited to a football camp at the last minute. He’ll be over later tonight for the BBQ.”
“BBQ? Someone’s barbecuing? I’m in.”
Hilary looked quizzically at Miranda.
“Why do I feel like someone forgot to tell me something?” I asked.
“Well, I was going to tell you, but I never got a chance. So the last time remember when you were in a hurry and Chris came over for breakfast? Well Hilary wanted to try having him over again and I sort of invited him over for dinner tonight after I found out you were coming home. And I kind of signed you up to BBQ,” Miranda said with a smile.
“I believe I can handle that. Anything else I need to know?”
“That we love you, Daddy!” Karen yelled.
“And Daddy loves you too.”
I grabbed Miranda by the hand and gave her one more kiss.
We walked outside through the parking garage to her car.
After they piled in, I motioned for Miranda to roll her window down. “I gotta go see Pa— ”She put her finger on my lips. “I know. We’ll be home when you get there. Go.”
Chapter 67
Somewhere in the Middle East
El Printo paced angrily as he listened to the American president give her victory speech. Each second he fumed more and more. The sound of her voice made him sick to his stomach. How could a country on such a corrupt path pretend to be so morally superior?
He had sent men to the compound where Abu and Hasan had been staying. And
it was true; they were both dead. Peace be with you brothers. Allah be with you.
Thinking about his fallen comrades made him even angrier. Abu and El Printo had never told a soul that they were brothers. Neither of them wanted it used against them, so they’d kept the secret to themselves. But now he mourned the loss of his brother.
A second plan to attack the United States was still in phase one of three. Coincidentally, the target was Houston, Texas. Due to the large number of refineries in the Houston area, a significant enough event could take the entire city off the grid. The plan would probably take another four to five years to come together, but it had begun nonetheless.
He walked downstairs and gathered his men around him. They sat cross-legged on the dirt floor of the main room, eager to hear what he had to say. At the front of the room sat ten adolescent boys. Many looked to be younger than ten years old. El Printo gestured for the doors to the room to be closed.
He walked by each boy, placed a hand on each of their heads and said a quick prayer for them too. El Printo knew he must mold the young boys into what he wanted them to be. Leaving it up to their parents would be a mistake. The children must learn what he wanted them to learn.
He smiled. “It brings me great pleasure to see such young, vibrant faces. We must continue to fight the evils of America.”
They all yelled and cheered.
“Our way of life must live on forever. This is the wish of Allah, that Islam rules the world. America only meddles in Middle Eastern affairs when it benefits them. Remember how our brother Saddam came into power? He was appointed to rule by our friends from the west, and then they turned their backs on us! They gave him weapons and turned their back on us. When the Saddam regime used poison gas on us, they turned their back. And just as they gave him power, they came back to remove him from power when they were finished with him.
“America has never attacked our Saudi brothers. There is no democracy there. Women cannot be issued passports or participate in voting. They must ask for a male guardian’s permission first. Why does America not attack them? Because Saudi Arabia is a natural resource hot zone that America must protect. Listen to me closely Sharia law will rule again. Americans will be brought to their knees before us. We will fill our tubs with American blood. We will build mountains made with American bones.
“Look around you, children. Learn from these men. They will turn you into strong warriors—God’s Warriors! They will train your bodies and your minds. There will be no fighting force on Earth that is stronger than you. We have brothers who have been living among the enemy for many years. They watch the Americans; they learn their strengths and their weaknesses. When we are ready, we will rock them to their knees. Allah be with each of you!”
El Printo stared into the face of each man and boy. He wanted to connect with each of them. Everything could be seen in a man’s eyes. What had he missed when he looked into Rael’s eyes? What had he told the Americans about their plans? Luckily he had never been to this Iraqi compound, their current hideout. He did not know their plans or their location.
He knew that fighting the American military would be an uphill battle, but his plan to take down Houston would cripple America. And his plan to neutralize the American military would signify the end of the American way of life.
Chapter 68
Going to see Paul would prove to be both amazing and heartbreaking. They’d put him in a medically induced coma to allow his brain swelling to go down. When they’d found him, he’d been beaten, and Sarin gas had been used on him. Depending on the neurological damage that had been done, Paul may never really be Paul again.
No matter what anyone told me, I couldn’t help but place his kidnapping squarely on my shoulders. What if I hadn’t run? Would I have been taken too . . . or worse? Maybe the attackers would’ve simply retreated, leaving Paul behind. I knew that playing these “what if” games was silly, but I couldn’t help myself.
When I finally reached Southeast Memorial, I sat in my truck for thirty minutes just trying to gather my thoughts and bracing myself for what I was about to see.
DeLuca had called three times, and three times I’d declined the call.
“Headed up now,” I texted her.
The receptionist told me that Paul was on the third floor in room 303. I hit the elevator button and waited. A young woman walked up beside me. She held the hand of a little boy who was all of about five years old. Her son I presumed.
Suddenly, I felt a tug on my pant leg. “Hey, mister, did you push the button already?”
I looked down at the boy and smiled. “Yes, I did, but it’s taking forever. Maybe it’ll work faster if you push it again.”
He crossed his arms and pouted. “That’s not how it works. Are you trying to trick me?”
“Peter,” the woman scolded.
“It’s okay. Cute kid, he yours?
She nodded.
The elevator finally arrived, and the three of us stepped inside.
“Who you here to see, mister?”
His mother’s face reddened. “I’m sorry.”
I put my hand up to gesture that it was okay. “I’m going to see an old friend. How about you?”
Suddenly, his inquisitive demeanor changed, and I wished that I could take the question back. “I’m here to see my daddy. He’s sick.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. You know what? I hear that this hospital is one of the best in the world. The doctors here are great.”
His mood didn’t change any, despite my best efforts.
“No, I don’t think they can help,” the boy said.
“No?” I asked.
“They say my daddy has a bad cancer.”
I looked over at his mother, who now had tears rolling down her face. “It’s all about keeping him comfortable now,” she said.
“Peter, have you ever ridden in a police car?” I asked, changing the subject and trying to ease the tension.
“No, silly, I’m not a bad guy.”
His mother laughed.
“Well of course you’re not a bad guy. I’m a policeman.” I pulled out my badge. “I know a bad guy when I see one. I’m going to give your mommy one of my cards. And if it’s okay with her, maybe one day you can come for a ride with me and help me catch some bad guys. How does that sound?”
“Mommy, can I go? Please?”
“Oh, I don’t know—”
The elevator chimed and slowly opened on the third floor.
“It’d be my pleasure,” I said.
Peter was wearing a Dickinson Gator’s Little League football jersey. “Do you play football, Peter?”
“Yes, sir. I’m real good too.”
“I bet you are. Your mom has my number. I’d like to come and watch you play one day. I happen to know a thing or two about football too.”
“Okay,” he called out to me, already skipping away from his mother and down the hall. He seemed to know which way he was headed, which meant the poor little boy had been here a whole lot more than any child should have.
“Thank you, Mr. Porter,” she said glancing at my card.
“No problem. I have two kids of my own. I understand what you must be going through and I’m sorry. You take care of that little boy.”
I gave her a quick hug and headed on my way.
I found DeLuca sitting in the waiting room alone intently studying her phone.
“Am I interrupting something?” I asked.
“No. I was about to blow your phone up again,” she said.
“Shall we?”
Chapter 69
Deluca opened the door to Paul’s room, and I let it close in front of me. I had to admit it. I was scared to death. A few seconds later it opened again.
“Hey, I know how bad this has to hurt, but he needs you to be strong right now,” DeLuca said.
I knew she was right. I walked into the room and froze five feet away from the bed. It should have been me lying there instead of Paul.
&nbs
p; I leaned down and kissed my friend on the forehead. He looked peaceful lying there and no doubt the quietest he’d ever been in the nearly forty years I’d known him.
I stood there for a long time just staring at Paul and saying nothing.
“I feel so—”
“Stop it. We’ve been over this already. There was absolutely nothing you could have done. Hell, you’d just be lying here beside him.”
“I hear you, but—”
“No buts. You guys couldn’t be better friends. When Paul comes out of this—and he will come out of this . . .”
DeLuca sobbed, unable to continue. Everything was up in the air right now. The doctors had given Paul a 50-50 chance of survival, and they were being optimistic. It was probably more like 70-30 if they were being realistic, especially when dealing with Sarin.
I pulled a chair next to Paul’s bed and sat down. I gripped his hand in mine. “Old friend, I know you can hear me. You just rest now. Let your mind and body heal. We aren’t going anywhere, so don’t you rush back before you’re ready. I want you at one hundred percent so you can’t have any excuses when I beat you in bowling, golf, and every other sport we play.” DeLuca was still crying and had stepped over to the window. Tears moistened my eyes too. “And just so you know, we got those bastards. The men who took you are dead. The masterminds behind it all, we got them too.” I could see Paul’s eyes twitching under his closed lids. I didn’t know if he was hearing and understanding me or if that was just his nerves functioning. I chose to believe that he could hear me.