Fortunes Obsession (16 page)

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     The sun was bright at seven thirty Saturday morning in Orlando.  It promised to be another spectacular Florida autumn day.

     Farley Collins was on a high.  His meeting with Bey had given him a new purpose in life.  All of his depression was gone.

Bey had promised that he would be in charge of the planning and logistics of the whole operation.  He felt important for the first time in a long time.  These people really needed him and what was more, they respected his knowledge.  Bey had promised to call him the moment the deal was consummated.  Meanwhile, he was given the assignment of looking for a headquarters for the operation.

     Cape Canaveral is located sixty miles east of Orlando and as Collins had explained to Bey, consisted of many entities.  In addition to the Space Center, there was Patrick Air Force Base, home of the United States Air Force eastern test range.  Collins had already decided to eliminate Patrick from their operation. The security would be too hard for him to penetrate.  He would have liked to include it, because it was where the Air Force tested military missiles.  He had already decided that his likely targets would be the Manned Spacecraft Operations Building, the Central Instrumentation Facility and the huge Vehicle Assembly Building.  Destroying those complexes would cripple America's space program for the next twenty years.  He would teach them a lesson.  They didn't know what they had when he was one of them.

He could have been using his brain for their benefit.

 He decided to go to Cocoa Beach and look for something there.  This was the town where he had lived as an astronaut and he was quite familiar with it.  Most of the married personnel had lived in Cocoa, which was more of a family town but Collins had preferred hustling, bustling Cocoa Beach.

     After several hours of driving in the area, he found a Real Estate agency of some size and entered it.  He had decided on an assumed identity and would have Bey and his group prepare false identification when they arrived in the area.

     " Good morning," He said cheerily," My name is Colin Foley and I represent the Aurora Corporation.  We do manufacturing of electronic components and would like to locate in the area. We need a warehouse and factory section of about fifteen thousand square feet and about two thousand feet of office space.  We need something with a good water supply and with plentiful toilet facilities."  Collins knew that many men would be quartered in the building and that some sort of living quarters would have to be conjured up for them. " We will also need a great deal of electric service and natural gas piped into the building."

     The man he spoke to introduced himself and handed Collins a card. " Mr. Foley, you've come to the right place.  I'm Mark Brachmann."  He extended his hand and Collins shook it vigorously. " If you'll give me a few days, I promise I'll find something that will be perfect for you.  The large amount of parameters you've given me, preclude me from finding something right now.  Why don't you leave me your phone number and I'll be

happy to get in touch with you, just as soon as I find some properties suitable for your inspection."

     Collins faltered.  There was no way he wanted his phone number known to any one at this time. "..............er, I, I,....can't be reached at this time. You see, I'm new in town and I don't have permanent quarters as yet.  Suppose I call you, lets

say on Tuesday?"

     " Of course," Brachmann said, " I'll get on this immediately I know you'll be very happy with us.  We're the biggest and most experienced outfit in this part of the state.  Try me after ten on Tuesday.  I'll be looking forward to your call."

     Collins crossed back over the Banana River and Merrit Island and leisurely drove around. The more he thought about it, the NASA areas were their best bet.  Cape Kennedy, run by the Department of Defense and Patrick Air Force Base, were restricted areas.  The risk would have been foolhardy.  As he drove through the complex, it brought back memories, both good and bad.  He remembered how proud he had been to be accepted in the program. The rigorous physical and intellectual requirements were staggering.  The bitterness welled up in him as he remembered the disgrace of his washing out of the program.  Those damned government hacks posing as psychiatrists didn't know what the hell they were doing.  There was nothing wrong with him mentally.

He would have been the best they'd ever had.

     The memories were too much for him and he got on the Bee Line Expressway and drove back to Orlando at breakneck speed.

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    It was six o clock Saturday morning and Peter couldn't sleep.  His mind was confused with thoughts of Dara and how much he wanted to be with her and thoughts of Sunday morning and what was to come.  He was certain that Fahd planned foul play for Dara but he couldn't figure out how.  He went over his plan in his mind.  He would be in full view of the drop off that Dara was involved in and would be able to strike fast if he saw the first sign of danger.  There were two problems.  Supposed they dragged her into the house and suppose they had guns?  Peter was relying on his Karate expertise and nothing more.  He didn't own a handgun and hadn't fired one since he was a second lieutenant in the army and had to fire a forty five caliber automatic for familiarization.  He finally decided on a shotgun.  He didn't own one, but had any number of friends who were hunters or skeet shooters.  A shotgun would be an excellent weapon because, unlike a rifle of handgun, it is not a ," Point," weapon.  A point weapon required an expertise in aiming, while an area weapon like a shotgun, sprayed a large area with lethal shot, which could stop a man in his tracks.  He would make some calls today, acquire a shotgun and some shells and take it with him on Sunday morning.

     At six fifteen, he could wait no longer. He called Dara,

who answered on the first ring.  She sounded wide awake and told him his apologies for calling early were unnecessary.

     " You didn't think I could sleep did you?  I wish tonight and tomorrow were over with.  At least he didn't bother me

last night.  He didn't even call me."

     Peter sounded concerned.  " That's what bothers me. From what you've told me, that's totally out of character for him.

I don't like the way this sounds.  Why is he insisting you stay at his place tonight?  He could of just as easily picked you up at your place.  I'll be worried about you all night and the hardest part is that I won't be able to call you in the morning to see if you're okay."

     " I know," She said, " I don't like it any more than you do but I see no alternative.  Don't worry about me, I'll continue my sick act and I wont let him touch me."

     He told her about the shotgun idea and she was disturbed over the introduction of guns into the plan.

     " Oh Peter, I really hate guns.  I don't know how you'll be able to use a shotgun if I'm close by.  You might hit me. Please don't bring a gun.  I'm capable of holding any one off until you can get to me.  If they do have guns we're in real trouble anyway. Suppose they hold a gun to my head.  What would you do then?  The only thing you can do is get hold of Agent Millard. He gave you his beeper number. Remember?  If they capture me, they will have taken me across a state line and he can move with jurisdiction immediately."

     Peter was amazed at the thought she had put into it.

     " Sure, you're right.  It becomes a kidnapping and that is his jurisdiction.  You're a smart girl Dara.  Sometimes I think you're smarter than me.  Okay, you win.  I won't bring a

weapon. I know that you have a phone in the Porsche.  You'd better give me the lock code now, in case I have to use the phone tomorrow."

     She gave him the numbers to make the phone operational and he felt a lot better.

     "  What time is Fahd's driver picking you up?"

     "  He said somewhere around six o clock.  He told me that we would have dinner in his apartment and that I should bring nice clothes and makeup, so that I make a good impression on his customer tomorrow."

     " Okay," Peter said, " I'll probably be calling you periodically all day until that time.  God, I wish I could be with you.  This is terribly frustrating."

     Her voice sounded small and vulnerable. " I want the same thing but he's perfectly capable of having me watched.  The one thing we don't want him to know is who you are and what our relationship is.  Sometimes I'm very frightened but on the other hand, I see the light at the end of the tunnel.  This nightmare will be coming to an end soon and we can start a new life...together."

     When they were finished, Peter hung up, feeling a knot in his stomach and a pounding in his head.  He brewed himself a cup of strong coffee and drank it, staring out the window, aimlessly,

starting an endless wait for Sunday morning.

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     Fahd sat at a large black onyx table in his study. Spread before him were all of the documents that  Farley Collins had passed to him in Central Park.  Each document was carefully placed in a large envelope with cardboard stiffeners on either side.  Fahd was proud of his reputation.  He delivered, always, exactly what he promised and always in excellent condition.

He placed all of the documents into a large imitation leather briefcase.  It was this briefcase that Dara would bring to Bokaar's door.  The money would be put into a similar container and delivered by Dara to Mustafa in the limousine. 

     He had thought of nothing but Sarita since the night before.

He was intoxicated with her beauty and charm.  He had the patience to wait until she was totally his and he delighted in the thoughts of pleasures to come.  Now, however, his erotic thoughts turned to the defiling of Dara.  He felt strangely erotic feelings when he thought of Dara being captured and used by the terrorists.  He also felt stimulated by thoughts of the cruel sex he intended to inflict upon her tonight.  Ordinary, tender sex with Dara would no longer stimulate him.  She had crossed the line and was now an object of his derision.  She had betrayed him and he would have his pound of flesh.  Afterwards he would apologize to her and send her off to an even crueller fate.

     He went to the phone and called her.  He felt the disappointment in her voice when she found out it was he.  He never missed a trick when it came to his women.  He knew their every mood and could see through  anything.

     " My precious one, I am so looking forward to tonight. It has been so long and I miss you so.  I have a wonderful dinner for you and will open some wine of priceless vintage.  Of course, as always I have a surprise for you.  You always loved my surprises didn't you my love?

     Dara was confused.  Was he going to lavish one of his expensive gifts on her?

     " Ibrahim, I'm so sorry.  You know how I love to please you but my doctor says I still have that infection.  I'm afraid we won't be able to have sex.  I'm still feeling so run down and ill.  I really hope I have an appetite."

     Fahd chuckled to himself.  Did this bitch really think she was fooling him with her infection story.  The last thing he wanted was ordinary sex.  The sex he would have with her would be extraordinary.

     " That's quite alright my dear.  I understand fully.  It is of course your company I need.  The sex part is inconsequential."

     That would be the day, she thought.  Since when was sex an inconsequential thing to Ibrahim Fahd.  He had the sexual appetite of a raging stud bull.

     She sounded grateful. " You're so understanding.  Thank you so much. I can't wait to see you.  I'll be counting the minutes."

     Fahd made sure she knew what time Mustafa was coming and hung up.  After hanging up, he immediately dialed Sarita.

     " Sarita, my beauty, I trust you have slept well.  I have been thinking of you since I left you.  I have known you one day

and already you are uppermost in my thoughts.  You have a magical quality about you."

     Sarita giggled.  " That's funny.  I've been thinking about you too.  What a perfectly marvelous evening.  When will I see you again?"

     Fahd told her that he was suddenly called out of town and that the weekend was out of the question but that commencing next week  he would be devoted to making her even happier.  The conversation went on with the kind of small talk that is endemic to new romance and finally he hung up.  He immediately dialed his florist and sent another four dozen roses.  It didn't occur to him that Sarita would have ninety six roses  from him in forty eight hours and that she would have to distribute them amongst many of her friends and neighbors.  The important thing to Fahd was the impact of his acts.  He had a way of devastating the women in his life with his kindnesses.  They rarely resisted his overkill toward them.  He felt that within two weeks, Sarita would be his.  She was more receptive from the beginning than most of them.  He would celebrate the new addition to his financial fortune by taking Sarita out for a magnificent evening.

Perhaps he would charter a jet and take her to Puerto Rico for dinner.  That would really impress her.

     There was one more thing to do.  He checked with the helicopter pilot to make sure he would be hovering over Bokaar's

house at precisely the right time.

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     Dara leaned back in the limousine. She felt both a sense of relief and a great deal of fear.  From this moment on she would be out of touch with Peter until she saw him after the exchange in New Jersey.  She was dressed in jeans and a white blouse and wore running shoes.  She intended to take the running shoes to New Jersey with her and slip them on in the back of the limousine to facilitate a quick getaway if needed. She had brought with her, a simple black dress for this evening as she knew that Fahd always liked her to dress for dinner, even when they ate in his apartment.  For the trip to New Jersey, she  brought a  black sweater and a short red leather skirt with matching jacket.  She took the leather to protect her from any possible pawing from that fat monster.

     During the years that she had been with Ibrahim Fahd, Mustafa was always very friendly to her.  He never, however, stepped over the line between servant and mistress.  He always addressed her as, " Mum ", or, " Lady".  She noticed today though, that he was strangely quiet and acted like she wasn't in the car at all.  She attempted to engage him in conversation.

     " Well, Mustafa, tomorrow's the big day, huh?  I guess we have a pretty important job to do for the boss."

     Mustafa looked uncomfortable and merely said," Yes mum."

     She tried further and asked after his family and if he had heard from them.  She got nothing.  Mustafa acted as if his mind was strictly on the traffic.  A chill went through her.  Every sign was pointing to things being different than they were. Very

wrong indeed.  Fahd had not even discussed sex with her since he returned.  The Fahd she knew would have insisted on his sexual appetites being assuaged in any number of ways.  Even when she had her period, she was expected to administer to him with great skill.  No, this wasn't the Fahd she knew.  She knew that they were through but feared that Fahd wasn't the, " Can't we be friends", type.  He would have to extract his pound of flesh somehow.

    Mustafa stopped at the curb to enter a gourmet food market to pick up food supplies for the evening.  He instructed Dara to sit in the car and explain to a policeman or traffic warden that he would be right out.  For the first time since she knew him, Mustafa spoke down to her.  He spoke with no respect and as if he were barking orders.  The signs pointed more and more to the obvious fact that she was out of favor.  She took the car phone in her hand and was about to call Peter, when she realized that the bill might come in with Peter's number on it.  She had almost made a fatal mistake.

     Mustafa came out in about twenty minutes, with a young man who was carrying the packages.  He opened the trunk and deposited the food and slid back behind the wheel without saying a word.

     Mustafa was sad.  He really liked this girl.  She was always very nice to him and was polite and gentle.  He knew that he must do Fahd's bidding, however.  His first loyalty was to this man. The man could destroy his family in Iran with one word but more than that, he had rewarded Mustafa with great comforts and

financial rewards and made his life in America very pleasant. Mustafa had a second family in Queens and lived in a beautiful four bedroom home.  It was necessary to cleanse his mind of this girl, even if it meant her death.  He was forced, many times to harden himself to acts of violence and cruelty from his master.

On many occasions, Fahd had sent him out to pick up a whore and bring her to the apartment.  Fahd would brutalize and beat the girl and then reward her with so much money that she would think the evening worth it.  How many times had he driven a frightened, bloody and bruised woman back to the streets where he found her?

Mustafa considered himself a decent man but he was becoming hardened to the facts of survival.  Tomorrow especially bothered him.  He was to leave this girl with men who intended to use her for their vilest pleasure.  The thought nauseated him but what was he to do?  Was he to give up all of the pleasures of his life and lose both families?  Taking all of her things tonight would be sad.  He had hired two of his American wife's cousins to help him and had arranged for a rented truck.  He knew last night that he had already seen the next occupant of Dara's apartment and chuckled at the fact that even she didn't know it.