by N R Brooks
“Babe, you did what you had to.” It was Keiko’s turn to calm me now.
“You don’t understand. I can’t go to prison. If I do…” I almost blurted out information they couldn’t know.
“What? What will happen if you do?”
“Just trust me. It is important that I go back to Florida as soon as possible.” I said to her, almost yelling.
“Hurry and leave,” Pops said quietly.
“What?” Keiko asked him.
“Both of you. Hurry and leave, I will take care of this.”
“Pops. If you are here, they will blame you.” I protested.
“Look at this place. Nobody is going to want to come here after this. My cook is dead. I am finished.”
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want Pops to be arrested for murder, but I also couldn’t either. This only made me feel worse as I had no other solution.
“Pops, I…” I tried to reply.
“Both of you, leave! Now! Let me handle this. You guys go and live your lives. Stan, you do whatever it is you need to do. I know you are here for a reason. Don’t let me down now. Go!” He yelled and pointed towards the back exit.
“Come on, Stan.” Keiko grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the kitchen area.
“I won’t forget this Pops,” I said giving him a rushed hug before we left the place.
“Take care of her,” he replied.
I let go of Pops and Keiko, and I grabbed our coats and rushed out the back exit and across the street into the apartment building.
When we were inside, we looked out the window until we finally heard sirens and saw multiple NYPD cars and ambulances pull up to the side of the pizzeria. Keiko was bawling, and I felt like I had to vomit. I had actually murdered a person and now someone who I considered family was going to take the blame to protect me. I should be the one in cuffs, but I still had things to do. Pops was taking the fall for this disaster so that I could prevent an even larger one.
As Keiko and I sat beside the window in the studio apartment and watched the paramedics take the two bodies out and the third one on a stretcher, the last thing we saw was Pops in handcuffs being put in the back seat of the police cruiser. Keiko began bawling against my chest once more, and I sat there wondering if everything I had done and everything I still had to do was even worth it anymore.
Chapter 23
I wish I could say that the remaining days I spent with Keiko were better than the horrible New Years we took part in. The only thing running through my mind was the image of Ian’s lifeless corpse in a pool of his own blood on the floor of the pizzeria. That and seeing Pops being walked out of his shop in handcuffs. I realized that I would probably never see either of them again. This was just as painful as losing my parents…both times.
Normally when I am with Keiko, I never have issues with migraines or vertigo or ringing in my ears. Unfortunately, the trauma of what occurred that night made it so not only did all three of those things pummel me for the remaining days I spent there, but they happened at a frequency that I had never experienced before. By the time I got on my plane to go back to Florida, I had lost count of how many times I was hunched over in agony with my hands applied to my temples.
Keiko didn’t have it any better. She spent most of the time lying in bed, half the time sobbing, the other half staring at the TV, not really watching anything, but just staring at the TV itself. We both tried to reach out to each other for comfort, but neither had any comfort to offer. We were both exuding despair.
When the third arrived, I insisted that Keiko stay home and that I would hail a cab to take me to the airport. I knew she didn’t want to leave the house or go anywhere. I completely understood. I felt the same way, but I had to get back home. I would have preferred to stay in Manhattan until she was through grieving, but I had obligations to fulfill.
I must have appeared as a zombie both at the airport and on the plane. I shuffled my way from place to place with a blank stare. I just went through the motions with no hint of emotion. I had none; far beyond the point of apathy. I was on autopilot until I arrived at my little house in Venice. I can’t recall my flight or even how I got home. I was so detached from reality it is a wonder I even made it home on my own.
To my dismay, I came home to an empty house. I actually had hoped Ziad would have been there just so I had someone who wasn’t a miserable wreck there to converse with. I love Keiko, but she would be no help at a time like this. At least Ziad was an outgoing character, and some of that might rub off on me. But sadly that was not an option right now.
Then, it suddenly occurred to me that I did have a friend who was even more outgoing than Ziad. And they would most likely come over and change my mood around. It was early in the evening so she would be off work.
I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed Jeni’s cellphone—Yes, I had her personal number. I explained without detail my predicament, and she said she would be right over. When she finally arrived, we talked about what happened.
“So, start from the beginning. Tell me what happened.” She said with genuine concern.
I didn’t want to tell her that I had committed murder, so I stretched the truth a little bit.
“Well, Keiko and I were getting ready to celebrate the New Year at the pizzeria where I used to work. The owner and the cook were my friends, so it was just the four of us hanging out inside while the store was closed. A couple of guys broke in looking for Keiko and me, guys we had issues with previously. Remember the one who got his balls destroyed?”
“Oh man, that guy?” Her eyes widened after remembering the story.
“Yeah. Well, that piece of shit broke in, shot my friend, and came looking for Keiko and me. Pops, the owner, ended up beating the guy to death with one of his pizza utensils. Now he is going to most likely go to prison for murder. Unless he can convince the judge that it was done in self-defense anyways.”
“Shit. I’m so sorry, Chuck.” She said, putting her hand on my knee.
“Oh, call me Stan from now on, would you?” I no longer wanted anything to do with the name Chuck.
Jeni raised an eyebrow to this. “Stan?”
“Long story. Just Stan from now on, okay?”
“Okay. Might take some gettin’ used to.”
“Yeah.” I laid back against the couch and let out a long sigh.
“Well, I know it is not much, but I’m here if you need anything, ya know.” She reassured me.
“That is kind of why I called you over here. You are always so carefree and chipper, I was hoping you could share some of that with me. I could really use some right about now.”
“Okay, I can try, but how do you expect me to do that?” She asked.
“Hell if I know. Just be yourself. Surprise me. You always find ways to do it at work. You pretty much make it impossible to be in a bad mood when I work with you.”
“Well, it is different when you put me on the spot, ya know.” She said, placing her fists on her hips and giving me the raised eyebrow once more.
“Just be Jeni. That’s all I need.” It came out sounding almost desperate.
“Okay then.”
Jeni got up and looked at me for a moment with a look of half thinking and half confusion. After a moment she smiled and turned around looking like she was preparing something.
She turned around quickly and had her shirt and bra pulled up, her enormous and perky breasts looking directly at me. I stared at them for a second as they were quite incredible, but turned my head and motioned for her to put her shirt down.
“What the…put your shirt back down! What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.
“What? You wanted cheering up, I figured what the hell.”
“I mean, yeah I wanted you to cheer me up, but not like that.”
“So that didn’t work?” She asked playfully. She had no shame.
“Well…”
“Ah!” She pointed at me and began laughing.
“Okay,
so it kind of worked. I can’t believe you would do something like that. You really are something else, you know?” I said with the first smile to appear on my face since New Year’s Eve.
“Hey, what can I say? I’m one of a kind. And don’t you forget it.”
“Oh trust me, I won’t. Not bad, by the way. Not a word of this to Keiko too. Her knees scare me.”
“Haha! My lips are sealed. Glad to see you smiling again.” She pinched my cheek.
“Yeah, well, I knew I could count on you. Your methods are a bit unorthodox, but, effective.”
“Damn right. By the way, that is a one time only deal. Don’t expect another show.”
“I don’t know, I might need cheering up again.” I teased.
“Well, don’t be a-callin’ me askin’ for a striptease. I am still your boss after all.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got all the woman I need up in New York.”
“That’s right. You should really be there for her, ya know.” Her tone changed to a serious one.
“I know, but I can’t leave you hanging at work tomorrow. I wanted to stay, but I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“You know I would understand if you explained it to me. Yeah, I might be a little pissed about having to find someone to cover you, but shit, I would have told you to stay anyways had I known earlier.” She said as if I should have known already.
“Oh, now you tell me. I’ll call her later and let her know what you said.” I began pacing in the living room. “I won’t be mentioning the thing though. You know…” I motioned to her chest.
Jeni just smiled and rolled her eyes. I think I saw a hint of what I assumed was her blushing.
“Seriously though, very nice,” I smirked. I didn’t want to say it out loud, but they were incredible.
“Well, enjoy the memory! It’s never happening again.”
“Hey.” I was feeling incredibly thankful for her help. “Thanks. I mean it.” I walked up and extended my arms for a hug.
“Glad you are feeling better. Tell Keiko she can call me if she wants. Just give her my number, I’ll talk to her.”
“Will do.”
“Okay, I’m going to head home. It’s getting late. See you in the morning?” She said as she walked towards the front door.
“I’ll be there,” I said and waved goodbye as she walked outside to leave.
I knew I could count on her. I wasn’t one hundred percent yet, but I did feel much better than I was earlier. I still mourned the loss of Ian and the possibility of never seeing Pops again.
I tried to clear my mind of those depressing thoughts and tried to focus on my next step in my plans. Ziad had mentioned that Atta was going to Spain around this time. He didn’t give me a date, but I could drive by their house and see if the car is there. If both he and Marwan were in Europe, their car should be sitting in the long-term parking at the airport. At least getting out of the house and doing something would occupy me for a bit and take my mind off of the New Year’s incident.
I jumped in my car and took the highway north to Nokomis, the northern part of Venice where Marwan and Atta lived. I pulled onto Laurel Road and awaited my arrival at the hairpin turn in the road where the house in question was located. The sun was just on the horizon and going down quickly. As I slowed down, I looked in the driveway and was relieved to see that it was empty. Ziad was right. Both of them were gone. I could try to sneak inside and see if there is anything incriminating that I could snatch.
To be safe, I parked my car down the road a ways, grabbed a little flashlight from the glove compartment and a cheap pair of gloves, and walked to their house, sneaking in through the backyard so none of the neighbors would see me. There was always the chance that they were not out of the country but just out on the town.
As I crept in the shadows, I saw most of the windows were cracked open only slightly. While I thought about it, I realized it made sense. These guys were Middle Eastern, so they were probably used to high temperatures. They most likely didn’t even use the air conditioner out of habit or because they were cheap. Maybe both.
I peered inside one of the windows but couldn’t see anything due to the blinds being down. There was no light shining on them, so I took this as a sign that nobody was home.
I lifted the window carefully to avoid making any loud noises. Luckily, the tracks were well oiled, so the window slid without any excess pressure. When the window was opened enough for me to squeeze through, I slid in and under the blinds to find myself in the living room of the house. I only shined the flashlight when it was absolutely necessary. I gave my eyes a minute to adjust to the darkness. If I could at least make out the outlines of things, I should be able to maneuver around without running into anything.
I left the window open in the event I needed to make a quick escape. When my eyes were adjusted to the darkness, I looked around and was able to see just enough to find that the house looked almost empty. There was almost no furniture, and the walls were completely bare. There was a TV set, so the house wasn’t completely bereft of decor, but this was almost sad to look at.
I walked into one of the bedrooms and shined a little bit of light to see if I could make out whose room it was. Again, the bedroom was incredibly bare. There was a little desk that had some papers piled in a neat stack near one of the corners. I walked to it and shined the light on the papers. There were what looked like letters written in Arabic, something that looked like a balance sheet of some sort, and…ah-ha! Confirmation printouts of airplane bookings. This sheet had information for one of Mohamed Atta’s flights that took place…today, 1/3/01. Well, that is a coincidence. Looks like they really are out of the country.
There was nothing incriminating on the desk, at least nothing that I could readily make out as evidence. I couldn’t read the letters, so I ignored them. I shined the light around the room and saw a folder in the corner next to the mattress on the floor that Atta used as a bed. I opened the folder and looked at the documents inside. Everything was written in English, so that was a good start. I scanned the first page and saw that it was just a table of contents. But as I read the section names, I realized what I was looking at. It was an al-Qaeda recruiting manual, the one that would be found in Atta’s luggage after September 11th.
I couldn’t take the whole folder as that would be too obvious that someone was in here. I snagged some random pages that had valuable information that could be used against the men, folded them up, and put them in my pocket. I set the folder down exactly where I found it and decided that I at least had enough to start with.
Before I turned to leave, I heard the sound of tires rolling on dirt littered concrete and the squeak of brakes. It sounded like it was very close by. I turned off the flashlight and crept into the living room until I heard a car door shut. I went still to listen further. That is when I heard the front doorknob jiggle and the sound of keys being put into the lock. Oh shit…
Someone was home. I immediately started looking around, my brain a complete blank as I began to panic. I didn’t have enough time to climb through the window to get outside. Shit! What do I do? What must have only been a second or two felt like minutes as I just stood still like a deer in the headlights. On pure instinct, I rushed back into Atta’s room and hid in the tiny door-less closet. I covered my mouth to muffle the sound of my panic induced hyperventilating.
The front door opened and then closed. I heard footsteps in the living room and then a light flashed on. Some light spilled into the bedroom since the house was rather small. I was still hidden in the shadows, but now I was stuck and didn’t know if I was going to make it out. I didn’t even know who was home. It couldn’t be Atta since the printout I saw just a few minutes earlier showed his flight to Spain was today. That could only mean that he went alone and Marwan was in the house with me.
While standing in the closet, I began to calm down and start thinking clearly again. If Marwan is home, I am in Atta’s bedroom. If I wait for him to go in his own bedr
oom, that might be my chance to sneak out. That was probably my only option unless Marwan decided to leave again. At this time of the night, that might be a slim chance.
I was afraid to even try to poke my head out from the little closet I was standing in. I was going to rely on hearing alone. I closed my eyes and just listened to everything around me. I listened to footsteps that sounded like they were going to the kitchen area. Then the sound of a cupboard opening. The kitchen faucet is now on, most likely filling a glass with water. Then more footsteps, sounding like they are coming towards me. They are getting louder and louder….yes! The sound of the bedroom door opening. And now it’s closed!
I peeked my head around to see through the doorway of Atta’s room. Marwan’s room was directly across from the one I was currently in. The door was closed, and I could see light spilling through the gap between the bottom of the door and the carpet. I rushed out into the living room on my tip toes to make as little sound as possible. I had no idea how long Marwan was going to be in his room, so I moved as swiftly as possible without making sounds. I carefully lifted the blinds and nearly threw myself through the gap in the open window. I didn’t bother closing it. When I was safely outside, I started running as fast as possible into the shadows where I could creep away and get back to my car.
When I was at what felt like a safe distance from the house, I stopped and took numerous deep breaths. When you are in a panicked state, it feels like you are holding your breath the entire time. I inhaled as much fresh air as I possibly could. I had made it out of the house and was able to steal evidence I could mail anonymously to the FBI. If I could notify them of al-Qaeda members in the US, something might actually get done this time around. Atta, Ziad, and Marwan all have valid student visas to be here, so there isn’t much I can do about them. But there are two men that are already on the CIA watch-list who I can try to get on the FBI’s radar.
I would take the stolen printouts I acquired from Atta, write a letter to the FBI, and send it all to their office in DC with no return address in the hopes that it would land on the desk of Louis Freeh. I wasn’t familiar with him like I was with his full-time replacement, Robert Mueller. He wouldn’t head the FBI until a week before 9/11. Anyone from my original timeline should be quite familiar with Mr. Mueller. Once I sent my letter, I could only hope that they actually do something about it. Until then, I will do what I can on my end to stop Ziad and Atta.