Monster (63 page)

“Are you saying she’s unprofessional?” McDaniels pretended shock.

“She ain’t your Mom. Any other relationship I don’t want to know about. Bring in this al Zoubi character along with Sergeant Bocelli to watch him. Once you’ve introduced us, you can take off and get showered. You’re stinking up my quarters.”

McDaniels laughed and walked to the entrance. He gestured for Bocelli to bring in al Zoubi. Once inside, al Zoubi immediately began speaking perfect English.

“I have been tortured,” al Zoubi said to Martinson. “You need to arrest this man immed…”

“Shut the fuck up,” Martinson screamed into al Zoubi’s face. “Who the hell do you think you are giving me orders? You look okay to me, you little pussy.”

“This man threatened to kill my wife and son if I didn’t speak.” Al Zoubi ducked away from Martinson’s rage. “He had a movie of them in Yemen. He told me he would kill them if I did not cooperate.”

“That so, Cold?” Martinson asked.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about. I asked him for account numbers and map points. He gave them to me.”

“Liar,” al Zoubi said. “He has the movie player in his pack. It will show you what he did.”

“Do you have a player in your pack, Cold?”

In answer, McDaniels stripped off his pack. He opened it up for inspection. Martinson rifled through it with some disgust at the smell emanating from inside. He found no sign of anything other than communications gear and equipment needed to survive in the freezing temperatures. After about ten minutes Martinson looked up at al Zoubi.

“There’s no DVD player here, asshole.”

“He…he must have hidden it somewhere. He…”

“I’ve been with the Colonel since he came into camp, Sir,” Bocelli interrupted. “Other than the AK47 he was shouldering, that pack was all he had.”

“Take this prisoner. Get him settled in at our Marine Hotel, Bocelli,” Martinson ordered as al Zoubi continued to protest. “If he doesn’t shut up, gag him.”

“Aye, aye, Sir,” Bocelli answered crisply. He saluted and left with al Zoubi.

“What was all that about a DVD player?” Martinson asked suspiciously.

“Don’t know. If I wanted to make him talk I’d have cut his fingers and toes off.”

Martinson laughed. “You would too. Okay, get out of here and call that pain in the ass boss of yours. Let me know what she says.”

“Will do.” McDaniels exited Martinson’s quarters.

* * *

McDaniels watched Reskova’s image pixels swim into digital view. Reskova was gripping the desk in front of her as she peered intently at the screen.

“Hi, Red,” McDaniels greeted her with a small wave.

Reskova’s face tightened as she tried to control her emotions. A long moment passed before she could speak.

“I…I thought… you were dead,” Reskova said finally.

“I’m good. I brought back everything along with a couple of extras. God, you look fine. Did you find out any more about those Russian pricks?”

“Not really,” Reskova relaxed a little. “Romanko’s definitely in charge of their mob now. I think they were just on a fishing expedition because of their top guys getting busted. I…I’m sorry about…”

“Forget it, Red. You don’t have to apologize for anything, especially worrying about me. Now, I know this is probably a bad time to talk about this but you have to try and be objective. Al Zoubi filled in the blanks about the smuggling route. I brought out a young man with friends at one of the other smuggling stops. I’m…”

“Cold…don’t say it! You look like hell. You must have lost thirty pounds. You’re out of there. For God’s sake, you can’t be considering…”

“Hey,” McDaniels cut her off. “Let me speak to Assistant Director Reskova for a moment, will you? It was barely twenty pounds by the way.”

“That’s why you haven’t already shaved off that wild ass beard,” Reskova commented dejectedly. She reached over and pushed a key on her keyboard. “Go ahead. Give it to me formally. I’ll present it the Director.”

McDaniels spent the next twenty minutes outlining a plan of action. Specifying the goals of the mission, McDaniels listed pinpointing the other way-stations and recruiting the friends Mehmed had mentioned as the most important objectives. He ended by proffering a planned Internet information drop for the men he recruited and leaving them Satellite phones for communication.

“We can know exactly what and when anything moves along the route if I can convince Mehmed’s friends to give us a heads up when they have movement through their area,” McDaniels concluded.

“Besides their friendship with this Mehmed, why would they help?”

“Because I’m going to give them a thousand dollars worth of gold each. If they get on board, I’ll promise them more for each shipment we trace over the border and into Iraq.”

“You think someone here will authorize that kind of payout?”

“They already have. I still have five thousand in gold they gave me when I went in this last time.”

Reskova considered the information silently for a moment. “I’ll need at least a day to present your plan and get back to you. How hot is the trail you left from al Zoubi’s encampment?”

“Now you’re thinking like the AD Reskova I know and love. Mehmed, the Nakhuda family, al Zoubi, and three of his guards all disappeared without a trace. They won’t know what to think for quite a while. They’ll probably write it off. Things will cool down for the time being until al Zoubi can be replaced with someone familiar with the operation. That will not be easy.”

“They’ll be all over the camp you took al Zoubi out of. It’s wishful thinking about them writing it off.”

“The route’s too important for them to shut it down,” McDaniels pointed out. “Besides, I won’t be there. They can scour the place for twenty miles in all directions. Unless they bring a psychic along, it will still be a wild goose chase. I, in the meantime, will take the opportunity to go recruit.”

“It sounds so simple when you put it like that, Cold. Okay, I’ll get all this to Aginson first thing in the morning. Do you need anything else?”

“Nope. I have new batteries for the DVD player.”

“You show me yours,” Reskova whispered, “and I’ll give you a live show right now.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” McDaniels gasped as Reskova began slowly stripping in front of him.

* * *

“Colonel,” Bocelli called out as McDaniels exited his quarters. He jogged up next to him in the darkness.

“Jed?” McDaniels acknowledged, pulling his parka tighter in the biting cold. “Why aren’t you in your rack? It’s colder than a coal miner’s ass out here.”

“The Lieutenant wants to know if you needed a patrol or anything before we hit the sack.”

“Awwww…” McDaniels crooned, walking toward the middle of the camp, “that’s so sweet. My business is done for a while, at least until I can convince the suits to let me go map the smuggling route I found out about.”

“You talked to AD Reskova,” Bocelli said knowingly. “I haven’t seen you in over a month but I can hear the far away tone in your voice.”

“You’re annoying me, kid. Thanks for not mentioning my having your DVD player to Martinson.”

“No biggie. Your friends at the office have adopted us. When they heard I loaned you my DVD player they sent new ones for the whole squad. Oh, I almost forgot. Kay sent a couple of pictures for you. I meant to give them to you when we met up tonight but al Zoubi needed a little more of your attention.”

Bocelli took two plastic laminated photos out of his breast pocket and handed them to McDaniels. McDaniels looked at the first one as Bocelli shielded the small beam from McDaniels’ Maglite with his body even though the men kept moving. It was never a sound idea to reveal any movement in camp. McDaniels chuckled at the picture of Ansa and Suraya holding little Cold between them. A smiling Kay sat next to them toasting with what looked like a shot-glass.

McDaniels laughed uproariously at the second one of an obviously inebriated Barrington and Rutledge, locked in a partially clothed embrace inside Barrington’s office, their startled looks captured perfectly by the camera. On the back of the family picture, Kay had written ‘I am the man’. On the back of the second photo Kay explained Barrington and Rutledge had thought they could sneak away from the office New Year’s Eve Party. McDaniels pocketed the photos.

“It seems Kay is as twisted as you are, Sir. How’s he get away with pulling that stuff on his boss? Tom must have a great sense of humor.”

“The old fashioned way, Jed – blackmail. What do you mean twisted?”

* * *

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get over here earlier,” Reskova apologized to the group sitting around the meeting table. “I had to give the Director a non-biased presentation of Cold’s latest
Mission Impossible
.”

“No wonder you look so good today,” Rutledge said.

There were shared exclamations of happiness around the table. In addition to Rutledge, Barrington, and Rasheed, Pete Donaldson sat in on the meeting.

“He looked like hell,”

“What is this mission you speak of?” Rasheed was not smiling.

“Cold wants to recon the smuggling route, zero in the coordinates he received from al Zoubi, and recruit a few Syrians at one of the stations.”

“My God,” Rutledge said in a hushed voice. “Cold does know we have an army over in Iraq and it isn’t necessary for him to win the war single-handedly, right?”

“Sometimes I wonder. It really doesn’t matter what anyone thinks at this point. He has the go ahead from Aginson. He’d have probably gone whether Aginson okayed it or not. It’s the main entrance for much of the stuff being used to kill our guys over there.”

“What did you mean he looked like hell, Diane?” Barrington asked. “You don’t mean he was wounded, do you?”

“No. He’d lost about twenty pounds and that beard he was sporting made him look worse than he probably was. After Cold politely reminded me of my duty, I’ve went into supervisor mode to see this through. When he goes over the border he’ll be incommunicado anyway.”

“The little Cold will be walking before he returns,” Rasheed commented. “He has not paid me for the desk he broke yet either.”

“Cold’s sending a young man named Mehmed Ahmadi out with the Nakhuda family,” Reskova said after the group shared a laugh over Rasheed’s desk reference. “He was the guard Cold picked out and made a deal with. According to Cold, Mehmed would make a great addition to our team. Can you help him make the transition, Kay?”

“I will treat him as a brother. If my friend singled him out, he must be very good indeed.”

“He was instrumental in helping get the Nakhuda family out. Mehmed is only twenty so he will be a younger brother. I’m not sure yet what kind of category I’ll be able to classify him under. With his language skills and the experience he’s had in Syria he could be invaluable. We’ll never be able to win this war trying to infiltrate the enemy with white people.”

“I wish your President shared your views,” Rasheed replied.

“Let’s not open that wound. We’re working under the handicap of open borders, millions of illegal aliens already here, and metropolitan cities like New York and Houston declaring they will not enforce our immigration laws. Add to the mix God only knows how much dangerous contraband, both nuclear and conventional, and we’ll need all the Mehmeds Cold can recruit. I’m done for the day. If there aren’t any questions, you bunch should take off too.”

“Did you already give Cold the go ahead, Diane?” Barrington asked.

“Yes, right after the meeting with Aginson. He’ll be going in tonight probably.”

“The guys loved the DVD players we sent them,” Rutledge said before Reskova could turn to leave. “Abe wrote me to tell you they all approved of the DVD collection you picked out to send along with the players too and to compliment you on your good taste.”

“I just pictured the movie titles Cold would watch and listed them. I figured the guys wouldn’t want to see
Fried Green Tomatoes
or
Titantic
.”

They said their goodbyes and left together - all but Rasheed, who returned to his workstation. When Donaldson noticed Rasheed was not walking out with them he went back in the office. Seeing Rasheed working on his computer, Donaldson walked over and sat down next to him.

“What’s up, Kay?”

“I needed to check on the Russian Romanko again. We have surveillance on him since you and I found some of his mob fooling around in the Pentagon traitor’s apartment.”

“He can’t touch the Colonel. Since we’re already on his trail, what’s bothering you about him?”

“I am not sure.” Rasheed scanned the latest report listings on Romanko’s movements. “Why did he have his Lieutenant murdered, the guy named…ah…”

“Alexi Neditch?”

“Yes, and why have the police not been able to move on the suspected killer, Kojovich?” Diane told us it would be a local police thing but it appears the police care very little for the job.”

“When mob guys knock each other off the police usually just wait it out until things return to normal,” Donaldson explained. “One more time - what’s not right?”

“I have a bad feeling Cold was not the target of all this.”