Fortunes Obsession (24 page)

during his perverted games.  In a way it would be nice to give this son of a bitch what he deserved.

     Yamashita waited patiently while she puffed on her cigarette and contemplated.  If there was anything he had learned in the bureau it was patience.  He thought of something and spoke.

     " Ms. Long, if you cooperate with us, we owe you one.  If you get in trouble with the locals, we might very well be able to intercede in your behalf."

     Margaret Long took an exceptionally long drag on the cigarette.

     " How can I be assured of that?"

     " You can't". said Yamashita, " You'll have to trust me?"

     " You've got to be kidding. Why in the hell should I trust you?  I don't even know you?"

     Yamashita smiled and looked her straight in the eye. " Lady. On the other hand, I could make trouble for you right now.  You realize, don't you, that a lady was transported across a state line for illicit purposes.  That makes this a federal case right now and it's in our jurisdiction.  You want me to read you your rights?”

     For the first time, Margaret Long was frightened. The guy was right.  She could be in big trouble.

     " Okay, you win.  You can't take her in though.  I'll have her here tomorrow for you to interview."

     Larry Yamashita shook her hand. " Lady, you've got yourself a deal."

               *****************************************************

     Penny Blaine was always beautiful. From the time she was a small girl, she could roll her eyes at men and get whatever she wanted.  She got into whoring when she was married.  She met 

Margaret Long at a cocktail party and Margaret was captivated by her beauty.  She and Margaret became fast friends and gradually, Margaret talked her into a few tricks for a large amount of money.  By that time, her marriage was on the rocks and she was making an income in excess of eighty thousand dollars a year from prostitution.  Margaret was careful never to refer to it as whoring or prostitution.  It was called an escort service.  Penny was started on easy tricks.  The men were mostly attractive and polite and the dates were fun.  Over a period of time, she took on the tough jobs for more money.  She had to contend with pain, anal sex and an occasional bruise or two.  When she found out she could take it, her income increased to six figures.  She became the girl that Margaret called when she had a , " Tough job."

     She was clearly nervous as she faced Larry Yamashita.  Yamashita thought she was a fantastically attractive girl who looked as pure as the driven snow.  He felt a touch of  sadness at her station in life.

     " Ms. Blaine, please don't be frightened.  I assure you that you are not in trouble.  We just want this information from you.  Tell me everything you can about your client in Paramus."

     Penny was extremely uncomfortable.  She never wanted a public image as a whore. She was totally mortified in the presence of this clean cut FBI agent.

     "  He was an animal, real rough type.  He liked to hurt me."

     " That's not what I mean," said Yamashita.  I want to know if he told you anything about what he was going to do after he left you."

     " He said he was going to Florida.  He said he was going to show America who the real boss was in the world.?"

       Yamashita was gentle with her.  " Okay, good. Now think, think of something else he might

have said. Something he was going to do."

     " I don't know, he mostly talked dirty and kind of put me down."

     Yamashita was not satisfied.  " Margaret, will you make Penny a drink so she can relax. Maybe she'll remember something that will help us."

     Penny sipped her martini and seemed lost in deep thought.

     She seemed suddenly very excited.  " I remember, I remember.  He said that when he was finished, the whole country was going to the moon."

     " Anything else? Think hard."

     She sat for a long time.  " You don't want to hear anything else. It's just filthy sex talk."

     The two women looked immensely relieved when Yamashita left. He thanked them politely and left.  He felt another twinge of sadness over the life these women led.  They made more money than he did but there was such an element of pathos in their lives.  He was excited about the moon remark.  In his own mind, he thought that certainly these guys were after the space center but he decided to run it past the higher ups before making a judgement.  As he drove back to headquarters, he was elated over the progress of the case and thankful that Peter and Lance had the gumption to bring it to the bureau.  He was certain that he was sitting on a case that was a major threat to the security of the United States of America.

                     ************************************************

     Eduardo Romero graduated from the academy in nineteen eighty three.  He was thirty eight years old and had just recently been given the San Juan office.  He decided to do this surveillance himself.   The case interested him and he had a certain feeling that he was in on a major caper.

     He was totally unprepared for the beauty of the woman who exited the plane. The description

given to him by New York did not do her justice.  She was tall with a light brown complexion and her long black hair shined like a glittering jewel.  Her black eyes dominated her beautiful face . She was the kind of woman that could stop conversation when she walked into a room.

     A swarthy man in a limo drivers black uniform, held of the name, " Bonda," on a white card and the girl walked over to him.  He accompanied her to the luggage conveyor, where soon, two suitcases were removed and carried to a waiting stretch limo.

     Romero followed them  out of the bustling airport and across the island toward the El Conquistador hotel.  When they passed the hotel, they soon came to a road marked, " Private."

Romero exited his car and walked , following the road as he concealed himself in a jungle like landscape.  In about a mile, he came to the gate of Fahd's villa.  The limo had long gone through it and it's bars rendered it inaccessible.  No matter, the prime reason for the tail was to locate the villa.

Romero walked back to his car and drove back to San Juan to await word from New York.

             *******************************************************

     Mike Clark sat across from Greg Millard and grinned with delight.

     " We just got the print analyses back from Interpol and we have a make on a known terrorist."

     He showed Millard one of the three pictures that Lance and Peter had selected.

     " This guy's name is Hassan Bohnami, also known as Ali Sahm, Al Bee, Aram Botkanian and Ali Bokaar.  His prints are all over the house.  He's our guy alright."

     Millard swung into action immediately.

     " Okay, great! Get a positive I.D. from the hooker and from Dara, Lance and Peter.  As soon as you get it, and I'm sure you will, put out an APB, especially in Florida."

     He sat now, thoroughly reading the dossier before him. " Jesus Christ, this guy is the top

explosives guy in the Arab world.  He's one dangerous dude.  We'll assume their target is either Canaveral or Cape Kennedy.  Alert the authorities there and send all of the guys you can get into the area with this mug shot.  Right now, it's all we've got to go on."

     Clark nodded. " By the way, Romero has located Fahd's hideaway in Puerto Rico.  You want us to nab him?"

     " Not yet, but tell Romero to start working on a warrant from a federal judge in Puerto Rico.

Send down everything we have on the kidnap and interstate transport of the whore for illicit purposes and anything else we've got to insure the warrant.  Tell Ed that we'll let him know when to nab Fahd.  I'd rather wait to see if he joins the others and leads us to them.  Okay?

     Clark jotted down all of the instructions.  " At what point are we going to fly south to stop these guys before they strike?"

     " Good question," said Millard, " From past performance, we have a little time.  They'll have to get all their people in place and do a lot of preparation.  It shouldn't  go down for at least a month or so.  I think we're better off trying to find out exactly where they are instead of futilely combing a large area.  In the meantime we'll have our Florida guys doing the best they can at the Cape and in Cocoa Beach."

                      **********************************************

     Special Agent Ruth Halloran drove her car down the main road of Cocoa Beach and realized the futility of her task.  It was a long  road, filled with fast food restaurants, auto service complexes, car agencies and gas stations.  Combing every block of even the main street would take an incredible number of agents.  She decided to check with all of the local real estate operators to see if anyone had recently rented space that might be used for a terrorist

headquarters.  This, of course could include an ordinary house.  It didn't even have to be in Cocoa Beach.  It could be in Cocoa or even Orlando.  There were over three hundred real estate agents listed in the area and she had only covered nine.  She decided to cover the area of Cocoa Beach first because it was the most likely.  She had on her person , several listings that were highly unlikely to be the terrorists but in her efficient manner, had filed them anyway.  The work was tedious and plodding and paperwork had to be completed in reference to each stop.  She was dog tired already.    She was coordinating with two other agents.  One was at Cape Canaveral, talking to the security people at NASA and the other was at Cape Kennedy talking to the air force and army people

                               **************************************** 

     Penny Blaine was uncomfortable.  She was always uncomfortable in the presence of anyone from the police.  She imagined life in prison and thought that she could never take it.  She was an educated person, brought up in a refined family and never contemplated that she could end up in a life of prostitution.  Margaret Long had assured her that it was safe for her because of her many connections and payoffs to people in high places.  Here she was though, sitting at FBI headquarters, knowing full well that she had committed a federal offense by peddling her body in two states.  She was ashamed as well, over the fact that they knew she was a whore.  She desperately wanted to explain to them, the circumstances that led her, actually a nice girl, into this life.  As she waited for the mug shot to be brought in for her perusal, she broke into a cold sweat.

Suppose they decided to arrest her?  She was dressed as demurely as possible and resembled what she might have been; a pretty, clean cut housewife out for an afternoon's shopping.

 The agent who sat across from her put her immediately at ease with his polite and  gentle manner.  He was the type of man she would like for her own.  He was tall and rugged, yet clean cut and kind looking.  She put such thoughts immediately out of her mind.  He knew, after all, that she was a professional whore.  She vowed to herself to get out of this life as soon as she had her nest egg.  She didn't do drugs and had invested as wisely as possible.  When she had enough, she'd find a man like this and settle down.

     Agent Clark smiled.  " Thank you so much for coming , Ms. Blaine.  We really appreciate your cooperation.   This won't take long.  I'm going to put six pictures in front of you.  I want you to pick out the man we discussed with you, if you see him...........and please, only pick him out if you are certain."

     Among the photographs was a shot of the man known as Bokaar, approximately as she had seen him.  Interpol had supplied several shots but most of them showed him with a beard.

     She immediately picked one of the beardless shots, which was mingled with photos of other middle eastern types.

     " Beautiful, Ms. Blaine.  That's the one we thought you'd pick.  Again......thank you so much for coming."

     She shook his hand and walked out the door.

     Clark shook his head as she left.  Damn, he thought, too bad I know what she is.  If I saw her pass by in the street, I'd fall in love instantly.   He thought about her for a long time  and shook his head again.

                           **************************************

  Sarita lay on a lounge chair by the pool.  She was completely naked and felt the warm rays of the Puerto Rican sun, turning her caramel skin into mahogany.  Fahd was nearby, also completely naked, lying on a massage table and being massaged with oil by one of the servant girls.

She looked at his  thick, stocky body, covered with dark hair and thought of their love making the night before.  He was skillful and gentle and expertly brought her to new heights of delight.

She felt a twinge of desire as she watched the girls hands rub the oil into Fahd's buttocks.

She reached over to a small table and took a sip of a large, frosted gin and tonic.  It was her third of the afternoon and she was high and happy.  She couldn't believe her good fortune.  She knew that she would marry this man and live in a life of luxury, happily ever after.  At this moment she was wildly in love with him and would do anything for him.

     When the girl left, Sarita walked over and mounted Fahd's oily body.  She felt his firm buttocks underneath her and rubbed her pelvic area over him.  Soon he turned over and she mounted him and her screams of delight permeated the jungle .

      Ed Romero, watching through field glasses from the surrounding foliage was very uncomfortable.  Watching this girl was destroying his professionalism.  He found himself hating Fahd for having this goddess while he lay sweating in the jungle with a pair of fogged up field glasses and every insect in Puerto Rico crawling over him.  Watching her ride the bearded Egyptian to climax was too much to bear.  He was going home to have a cold shower, a stiff drink and give his wife the best sex she ever had.

             **********************************************************      

     Bey, Bokaar and Collins sat around a table in the newly refurbished building in Cocoa Beach

and went over the logistics of their operation.  Five trained operatives were coming in with NASA

security uniforms.  These were terrorist commandos that had operated all over the world.  Each one spoke perfect English and had looks that were not middle eastern.  They were trained in the placement and wiring of explosive devices and were also expert infiltrators.  A woman was part of the team and she was an expert in makeup and the forgery of documents.  Sophisticated printing equipment had been brought in with portrait cameras to facilitate the forgery of any document that might be needed.  Collins, who still had all of his cards and papers, albeit expired, supplied the models and the information for all documentation.  Collins, with an expert disguise contrived by Contina, the makeup woman would go into the complex and make sure that all was still the same as he remembered it.  He would later go in with the five terrorists to formulate the final plan.

Bey was clearly in charge.  He hammered the theme of patience to both of his cohorts.  Bokaar was in charge of designing and building the explosive devices.  It was decided to keep him in the building at all times because of his possible recent exposure.  Bokaar complained bitterly but a cold stare from Bey put him right back on track.

                     **************************************************

     Dara turned restlessly in her bed.  She was getting damn tired of hanging out and doing nothing.  It would be one thing of she had moved back to Pittsburgh permanently but all she was doing was biding her time until it was safe to return to Peter.  She missed him terribly.  She talked to him on the phone at least once a day but it wasn't the same as seeing him.  She lived in fear that he would find someone else and forget about her.  She had changed her life so drastically in the last few months that it caused a bit of culture shock.  She had changed from a girl who wanted for

nothing to one leading a spartan existence.  She and her mother fought incessantly and her mother kept prying for information about her life in New York which Dara chose not to comment upon.

     She had her mind made up.  To hell with it all. To hell with the FBI guy that came around once a day to check on her.  She packed a small suitcase and made sure Peter's key was in her purse.

She waited until her mother left for her job and called a cab to transport her to the airport.

She was lucky to find  a U.S. Air flight to New York that was leaving an hour after her arrival at the airport.  She purchased a ticket and was on her way .

     She arrived at LaGuardia airport about one o clock and took a cab to Peter's apartment. She let her self in and immediately got into a hot bath and settled down with some of Peter's magazines, awaiting his arrival.

        **********************************************************               

The security directors of NASA and the Cape Kennedy military complex sat with the FBI team in

a large, soundproof office at the Cape.  The FBI people explained everything they had on the case and the space people outlined their security plan.  All documents of those coming into secure areas would be double checked and highly scrutinized.  The Cape Kennedy people had no problem because the Cape Kennedy area of the space complex was really not opened to the public. The problem with the Canaveral area was that for the most part, the public could come and go at will in most of the complex.  It was decided that the Kennedy area would be strictly under the control of the military, while the FBI would converge on the Canaveral area and bolster up security.  This troubled Hank Wharton, the head of security for the complex and a retired FBI

agent himself.

     " Look guys, I'm very familiar with all of your methods.  We are perfectly capable of doing this thing ourselves.  Have you ever heard of anything at this complex being compromised?  We have what I think is the best security force in the country.  Every one of our guys is a top notch cop.  Most have police or government agency experience.  Greg, you know me from the old days. Just give me everything you've got and we'll get the job done."

     Millard shook his head.  Why was it that every local police force, all of the state police forces and all of the security people resented the Bureau so much?  Most of the work of the Bureau involved coming into a case after the locals already were working on it.  They were derisively referred to as the , " Feebs," and resented each time.  Now, on a case that the Bureau had instigated, he still felt the resentment, even from an ex agent.

     " Hank, you don't understand.  These guys are vicious.  This isn't going to be a little firecracker.  This is going to be a major hit.  You know that you guys aren't the only game in town.  We haven't brought any of the private companies in on this because we don't want a national panic.  This could be the  World Trade Center and Oklahoma City combined.  We need your help and you need ours."

     Wharton took a large drink from the cup of hot coffee that sat in front of his place at the table and seemed to stare into space for an endless amount of time..

     " OK Greg, I guess the old ego was triumphing over the brain.. Tell us what you want us to do and we'll do it."

     Millard brought out a thickly bound book, the thickness of a telephone book.  In it were all of the pictures of any suspected terrorists, all of the letters taken from Fahd's office and a detailed,

step by step plan for investigation and security.

     Millard looked relieved as he outlined the plans to Wharton.

     " We have the floppy of the contents of the book , so you can feed it into your computer and print as many copies as you want.  Needless to say, this information is highly classified at this time.  No one but your top operatives are to see the whole package."

               *****************************************************

     Bokaar sweated profusely as he put together a sophisticated transistorized board for use in the detonation of his bombs.  It was planned to place bombs in many places and to set them off together to coordinate the launch of the latest space shuttle, " Conqueror," which was to be launched thirty days hence.  Suddenly he slammed his fist into the table.

     " Fucking assholes.  Nobody in this organization knows how to do anything.  This equipment is all wrong.  I have to go back to New York and see our supplier.  I gave you a list to give to him and it's wrong.....all wrong."

     Bey was certain that the list was filled impeccably but that fool Bokaar was probably drunk as usual when he wrote it. The only time Bokaar stopped drinking was when he was actually preparing the explosives.

     " Relax, my friend, we still have thirty days.  I'll have you flown to New Jersey. and you can right this wrong in a matter of hours.”

                                   ****************************************

Collins watched furtively from across the room.  He was frightened of these men.

He wondered why he had ever gotten involved with them.  He felt like a fish out of water amongst them and experienced a feeling of loneliness and isolation greater than he had ever felt when he was alone.  He was torn between wanting to do the job and wanting to run away.

Somehow he knew that they intended to kill him when the job was over.  He was treated like an errant child and was made to feel like he was an appendage or at the very least, an annoyance.

He decided that as soon as the charges were set, he would disappear.  He hoped that he could accomplish this because he noticed that one of the five commandos followed him wherever he went.  Even when he went to the toilet, one of them lurked outside the door.  He tried to remember his training and knew that his opponents would be formidable and desperate.

He asked himself why he was working so hard to accomplish this mission.  There was no liquor here and he hadn't had a drink for some time.  He had been drinking for months and found that now that he was sober, that his thinking was much clearer.  He realized that his whole problem was recognition and that if he played the turncoat and blew the plot, he would be an even bigger hero than being an astronaut.  He knew what he had to do but at this time had no idea how to do it.  He couldn't even get to a phone.

                         ***********************************************  

       Dara had no way of knowing that Peter was in Chicago on business and woke up disappointed the next morning, finding Peter's spot on the bed untouched.  She called his office and was told that he would return to the office directly from the airport at four o clock.  She decided to surprise him and spent the rest of the day in great anticipation, counting the minutes until she would leave for Peter's office.

                             *********************************************

Bokaar stirred restlessly  in the cabin of the commercial airliner.  They had decided that it would be far more safe to travel commercially than to commandeer a private jet, to say nothing of saving expense, leaving them more money to divvy up.  He did, however, sit in a first class seat.

He would go to New York and see that fool, Fahd.  He was always the best broker for any goods they might need.  Fahd had told him never to come to his office but the situation made it unavoidable at this time.  He had shaved off his beard and had his hair cut and was dressed in a business suit.  Except for his girth, no one would recognize him. Bey had insisted that he look neat and clean and as unobtrusive as possible.  He was clearly nervous.  He always hated when a planned routine went awry.  This was the way that operations were often compromised. He ordered another Scotch whisky from the flight attendant and in a state of semi inebriation, finally relaxed.  He thought back to the events that had led him here.  He thought of his impoverished boyhood in Libya.  He had been arrested for petty thievery and thrown into a cell with hardened criminals.  When one of them attempted to rape him, he killed him with his bare hands.  His compatriots, impressed,  kept quiet but the guards got wind of the truth and brought him to a room where they beat and tortured him mercilessly.  He uttered not a whimper and was thrown into solitary confinement and left to die.  One of the guards with a friend in Khadaffi's secret police, mentioned to that friend in passing one night while drinking that he had just punished the toughest young man he had ever seen and related the story of how this young man had killed a man twice his size with only his bare hands.  The secret policeman showed great interest and asked that the young man be brought to their headquarters.  At this time, Khadaffi was looking for candidates for a force that would bring terrorism to his enemies, world wide.

They brought him in with his bruises and his now infected wounds festering.  He was brought to a hospital and cleaned up and treated.  He could not understand why he was being treated so humanely.  For weeks, no one said a word to him but he knew he was a prisoner, for guards were evident everywhere.  When he asked questions, no one would answer but he was fed better than he had ever been in his life.