Lawson, whose call sign was (both appropriately and inappropriately) 'Iron Man', raised his cell phone to the artificial voice box in his throat. "Wookie Monster, Iron Man, copy."
There had been only a single grumble when Lawson disbursed several operatives to scout out the warehouse, and that had come from Wookie Monster herself.
"If I hear 'BAM' from any of you boots you'll see the inside of your—"
"Belay that," Lawson had cut her short. "There aren't any boots here. We're all hardened professionals."
"'BAM'?" Karen inquired once the three men and one woman had begun their wide circle through the woods behind the warehouse.
Lawson's mercenaries looked at the sky, re-checked their kits, or studied their toes.
Fred, who prided himself on his knowledge of acronyms but possessed little in the way of tact, said, "Broad Assed Marine."
"Is that what you're all thinking?"
The men studied their toes, re-re-checked their kits, or studied the sky.
Lawson's response had been an eerie, chortling whistle.
Wookie Monster had been the last to report. Calling in on their cell phones, the others had added little to the simple drawing Yilmaz had provided. On one side of the warehouse were three garage bay doors, to the other side six low-slung windows. Including Wookie Monster's five and the two men in view at the front entrance, there were nine opponents outside the building.
"Easy enough, if we didn't have hostages to consider," Lawson sighed. "A few flash-bangs, a few tear gas canisters…but if those women are bound and gagged, the gas could choke them to death."
"Alas," Ari nodded.
"You're an amateur tactician, Ari. How would you deal with it? Lots of open space to cover…"
"I would use the deputy marshals as human shields. While the guards were busy killing them, I would—"
Karen punched him. She seemed to consider it her privilege.
"It's time I got rid of my clunker," Ben Torson jumped in. "I could load the back with explosives and ram it through the front door."
"With no consideration for the hostages," Lawson said. "And who would be driving the truck?"
Ben's eyes drifted in Karen's direction.
"Does everyone here want me dead for some reason?"
"You spent too much time in the Sandbox studying the minds of your enemies," Lawson told Ben.
"But even without the—"
"I want to reiterate," said Lawson, swiveling his gaze over his men. "I know Ari wants to shoot anything that moves, but I would prefer to avoid killing anyone. You just don't know the paperwork involved."
"What if one of us gets killed?" asked an operative.
"Aren't you all nom-de-invisibles? You'll be jackal meat. Just kidding. Your Alpha Units will be taken care of by the company."
"Wives and significant others," said Fred to Karen.
"Not funny," said Karen.
"I was trying to be informative."
"Then tell this gentleman…Mr. Lawson?...that there's no need to be squeamish about shooting these people. They killed three F.B.I. agents earlier today. They don't think twice about pulling the trigger…and neither should you."
Something like a hard cloud passed over Lawson's good eye, and seemed somehow to carry over to the glass one buried at an odd angle in his restructured face.
"It might have been helpful if you had mentioned that earlier, Agent Sylvester," he said finally. "But it doesn't change anything. Have you properly scoped out this target? Except for the trees on the perimeter, it's ideal for defense. Ninety or so meters of open ground to the front, with extra guards posted at the soft spots. As soon as Yilmaz described the layout, I knew it was a no-go. I only came this far in the hope that my hireling, Mr. Ciminon, would tell me what the hell this is all about. I overheard Yilmaz saying something about large artifacts in this place…"
Having no kit to play with, Ari studied his toes and craned his head at the sky.
"If this was about the hijackings, I might buy it," Lawson continued. "But hostages? An assault on the Sadiq mansion? The goings-on at O'Connor's? What's really going on? I told you this thing you call the 'Namus' is none of our business."
"The Namus!" Yilmaz shouted, leaping forward. "He's here? You mean it's…" Her eyes widened. "Yes, it must be—"
"The cargo in the hijacked trucks was never the intended target," Ari interrupted. "The thieves were after artifacts hidden inside the trailer walls. Paintings and some statuary of great value."
"You mean the Sadiqs are art smugglers?"
"Not at all." Ideas rattled around in Ari's mind like a broken rack of billiard balls. "Mrs. Sadiq fully intended to insure the artwork with your company as soon as they were safely in her possession."
"She's already insured for over a million—"
"Yes, but only for the paintings ripped from the walls of her mansion and which now abide in the warehouse."
"Great." Lawson eased forward on his cane. "Not only hostages, but we have to worry about tearing out Van Gogh's other ear with a lot of gunfire."
"As soon as their hostage negotiators fail, I believe the local police will choose killing their rabid opponents over world heritage."
"There's no Van Gogh—" Yilmaz began.
"A manner of speaking," Lawson brusquely cut her off. "I know my guys are raring for a fight, but budgetary constraints draw a line at slaughter. There are a few moral issues, too, if you don't mind. I'm calling this off. I'm conceding to the deputy marshal and calling in the locals, the Feds and the National Guard."
"On it!" Karen said, unclipping her phone.
"Such a coup will look dazzling on your resume," said Ari glumly.
"A dozen or more dead hostages would look a lot worse."
"Wait!" Ahmad came running up holding his laptop in his hands. "I cracked the password," he added, sticking his tongue out at Yilmaz—obviously unaware of the danger he was putting himself in. "I found the Sadiq's phone listings. I've got them!"
Abu Jasim raised his hand.
"No, wait! Listen!"
They fell silent when they heard a voice emerge from the laptop speakers.
"—of course we switched trucks. No one followed us. We're waiting for you. Where are you?"
It was Nizzar, speaking Arabic.
Ari looked at Ahmad in astonishment. "How—?"
He stopped when the next voice came, also in Arabic.
"I've been delayed. I will be there in an hour. Perhaps two."
"But you said you'd meet us here!"
"It is unavoidable," said Sanad Raimouny.
Ari allowed himself a self-satisfied smirk. Of course it was unavoidable. Ari had shot him in the leg, a fact Sanad was unwilling to tell Nizzar. If he was hors de combat, his uncouth partner might take control of the proceedings.
"What am I supposed to do with all these weepers and wailers?" Nizzar complained. "And the Sadiq woman…we've already prepared her."
Ari heard a ghost from Sindabad: The girl is ready….
"Then go with the weepers and wailers," Sanad snapped. "Some of them must know where the other paintings went, who they were sold to. We have to get back as many as possible."
"But you want all of them," Nizzar complained. "Is that even possible? For all we know, some of them could be in Natchez."
"Natchez?"
"I believe that's in Nebraska, very far away."
"Then we will go very far. Look how far we've come, already."
"But—"
"Is the Sadiq woman near death?" Sanad asked.
"She can still speak."
"Keep the bitch breathing until I arrive. Until then, work on the others. Start with that Karida creature. She's more annoying than Nabihah. Let her die in front of the others. That will improve your results."
"She…"
Nizzar was weighing whether or not to tell Sanad she was not among the captives. "Yes, you're right, I'll begin with her."
Not knowing if the speakers could hear the
eavesdroppers, Yilmaz buried her face against Singh to muffle her scream.
"What is wrong with you?" Nizzar continued. "You don't sound right."
Ari thought Sanad sounded remarkably well for a man who had come close to having his femoral artery nicked.
"I am fine," said Sanad. "However, if you see that man from Teraq's party, that Ari Ciminon, shoot him on sight. He is very dangerous."
"I didn't like him, anyway," said Nizzar. "I pegged him for a no-good fucker right off."
"Don't forget, keep the Sadiq woman alive. I must talk to her."
There was a click. The conversation was over.
"Oh shit," said Ben.
Ari shot him a startled glance. "You understood?"
"They taught us a little Arabic before we went over, and what I understood wasn't any good. Something about wasting an ugly woman…"
"I have no friends here," Yilmaz snarled at him.
"But—" Then Ben, with a glance in Karida's direction, put two plus two together. "Sorry…"
"Such a dangerous fucker," said Lawson, analyzing Ari with an unsettling robotic stare. "I always suspected as much."
"I suppose your language lessons focused on a few key words," Ari said feebly.
"It doesn't look like we have time to wait for the Feds," said Lawson reluctantly.
"But your proposals for assaulting the enemy are idiotic." Yilmaz held out her hand. "Give me your telescope."
Lawson had been using a small sniper scope to study the front of the warehouse. Having slipped it inside his jacket pocket while on his phone, he did not see any need for surrendering it. He made a grumpy noise. He made an even louder grumpy noise when Yilmaz jumped forward and whipped it out.
"Nicely done," said Ari.
She raised the scope and peered around a tree to study the two guards.
"Rifa'a and Ali Ahmad, two of the guards from the mansion," she said. "I know them and they know me."
"Meaning?"
"They won't be expecting me."
"I'm hoping they don't expect any of us," Lawson rejoined, taking the scope when she handed it out to him. "They'll be too suspicious. They're supposed to be back at the mansion, guarding their employer, not here, guarding their prisoners. And you—"
"They're idiots. They'll be confused. After I take them out, your men can run forward…I would say take your cars, but Nizzar might hear the engines. Can they cover that open ground in less than thirty seconds?"
"The Cadillac is very quiet," Singh added smugly.
"Sounds better than being used as a human shield," said Karen.
Lawson didn't think for long.
"All right, but I'll have snipers on line just in case. Try not to block their line of fire."
Yilmaz paused, wondering which was more dangerous: the guards or Lawson's shooters. Then she nodded at Singh and they headed for Mrs. Sadiq's Cadillac.
"I'm glad you're taking him," Ari said, nodding at Singh.
When Yilmaz forged ahead without answering, Singh turned, grinning. "She has difficulty reaching the gas pedal."
"I want my two best shooters lined up on those guards," Lawson said, pulling out a headset and speaking lowly. It seemed the sharpest of the sharpshooters had been determined beforehand.
"I want Fox 2 to get in their van. If there's a fuckup, you go hell-for-leather to the front. Shoot anything that looks unfriendly."
Ari thought Lawson himself did not look very friendly at that moment, but he held his peace.
"Anything else, Ari?" said Lawson, pretending to read his mind.
"If you could loan me a good rifle…"
"You have sniper experience?"
"Well…I have been known to hit targets at 2,700 yards."
"No kidding? I thought that record belonged to the Queen's Household Cavalry. Craig Harrison, in Afghanistan."
"I cringe from boasting."
"Guess that's why it isn't on record. My guys were good enough to save your ass, if you'll recall."
"I do," said Ben.
"Yeah," Ahmad added.
Karen and Fred had been eavesdropping on all of this.
"What have you guys been up to?" said Karen.
"I want a change of assignment," said Fred.
As the Cadillac swept past them, everyone but Ari took out a gun. If Karen saw the Glock in his holster, it might lead her to think about other firearms he might have in his possession. As of yet, she had not seen the need to perform a deep search of his safe house and its immediate environment. If she came across his rocket-launcher-equipped M-16, he might find himself in a very ticklish situation.
Oh…and that machine gun…and RPG….
Fred disappeared for a moment. When he came back everyone in the vicinity drew back in horror. This included Ari.
"What are you doing with that bestial thing?" he cried.
Everyone ducked as Fred swung the Uzi in an arc and unfolded the stock.
"Where the fuck did you get that?" Karen gasped.
"I dunno. Just picked it up."
"Put it back! I didn't know my partner was a freak!"
An embarrassed Ben Torson stepped forward. "It's mine. He must have found it under the lumber in the back of my truck."
"Have you ever fired an Uzi, Fred?" Ari asked. "It is short-range, very inaccurate, and jumps prodigiously when it is used. There are hostages. I do not recommend it in this situation."
"It sure fixed my wagon," said Abu Jasim, staring at the holes in his van.
"Sorry, Deputy Marshal," said Ben, holding out his hand. "Anyway, it's unloaded."
"Two freaks," said Karen as Ben took the weapon back to his truck.
Ari wondered what other interesting guns Ben had in his arsenal, but he would save his inquiries for later. Singh had reached the front of the warehouse. As Yilmaz had predicted, Rifa'a and Ali Ahmad were confused by their arrival. They shifted on the balls of their feet but did not raise their automatic rifles. After all, she had visited the warehouse before. Emerging from the car, Yilmaz sauntered forward. Ari was concerned about her tight-fitting jilbaab. Would it encumber her movements? She had given him a good knock on the knee, which was still a little swollen, but could she handle two grown men?
The jilbaab exploded like a purple, bursting flower. One man went down instantly when Yilmaz' right foot flew up and caught him under the jaw. The second man had only begun to raise his rifle when it was knocked out of his hands. Something so fast as to be invisible caught him in the knee. Ari winced in sympathy. As he began to hop backwards, Yilmaz leapt forward and flashed her hands into his midriff. He fell over and she finished him off with a kick to the head.
"Leg it!" Lawson commanded into his headset.
By the time they reached the building, Singh was dragging the unconscious men into the bushes. He tossed them with such ease that one would have thought they were ten-pound sacks of potatoes.
Warren Buffett, the commando nearest Ari, pressed his headset to his ear and looked back at Lawson struggling up the road to the parking lot.
"He says don't wait for him, just do it." From a small canvas bag strapped over his shoulder he took out a black cylinder. The men around him pulled back.
"Oh shit," Karen and Fred said in unison.
Ben was making an odd face of loathing.
"What's wrong?" Buffett whispered.
"I was in the head one day…at FOB Chosin…"
"And someone tossed a flashbang inside? Hope it wasn't me." Holding down the safety lever, Buffett yanked out the safety pin with the same hand that held a Beretta M9. He frowned at his full hands. Ari thoughtfully leaned across and turned the doorknob slowly. He pushed the door in and stood away. Buffett craned forward, ready to toss the flashbang grenade in and up.
A loud staccato chatter chopped the air. Splinters from the door frame flew into Buffett's arm and face. Still, he kept the grenade lever down. Fiery glowworms bolted across the parking lot. Ari looked back to see if Lawson was out of the line of fire. He was.
Palming blood out of his eyes, Buffett crouched and tossed the flashbang through the door. His shout of pain disappeared under the loud bang. One of Lawson's man swept past him, firing as he charged through the door. A moment later he stuck his head out.
"Front room clear!"
Karen took Buffett by the wrist and held up his hand. The tip of his pinkie was missing. "Medic!" she shouted.
"Shut the fuck up," said Buffett, standing.
At least two of the men in Lawson's army were trained in battle dressing. They paused briefly next to Buffett, cast disparaging glances at the wound, then forged ahead. Lawson finished his arduous trek across the parking lot, unwisely assuming the two vans careening towards the warehouse would steer clear of him. The Fox 2 van went wide, but Abu Jasim nearly ran him down.
"Fuck!" Lawson shouted, staggering sideways.
Abu Jasim, oblivious to the near-fatality, braked hard and jumped out. He began waving a shotgun in all directions.
"Mossberg!" one of the mercenaries shouted, ducking.
Ahmad slid open the side panel and leaned out, ignoring the wails of Karida behind him.
"They're on the air again!"
Followed by Karen and Fred, Ari went forward to listen to the laptop speakers.
"If you surrender, you're dead!" Sanad's cultured timbre had grown harsh. "You hear that, Nizzar! You and your family! Kill the women! All of them! If all looks lost, destroy the paintings, too!"
"You set me up!" said Nizzar. "I don't know why, but you're not here and we're getting blasted. You're a fool. You know they'll come after you."
"If you can make it out, you will be taken care of. You have my word on that!"
Ari raised his eyes to Ahmad. "Can I intrude on the conversation?"
"Why would you want to—?"
"Do it, if it is possible."
Ahmad nodded and performed a couple of alt-tabs on his laptop. Then he nodded.
"Sanad!" Ari said. "Your useless testicles will end up in my bean pot. Nizzar! If you harm those women I will plant starving rats in your intestines!"
He waited for a response.
"They aren't answering."
"No kidding," said Ahmad. "They hung up."
They turned to see Singh dragging two corpses out the door, both Nizzar's men. He tossed them next to the two unconscious guards.
The Shelter for Buttered Women Page 37