Monster (72 page)

“I remember what you said, Agent Rasheed, it was…”

“Kay,” Rasheed interrupted with impatience. “I have told you a hundred times already to call me Kay.”

“I am uncomfortable calling you Kay, Sir,” Mehmed replied. “It was most generous of you to allow me to stay in your home these last few months and to help me learn about what is expected of me.”

“My wife thinks of you as a son already. My daughter lusts after you like a cheap camp follower. The little Cold said Mehmed before he said Father. It has…”

“This is not true…” Mehmed gasped in embarrassment, much to Rasheed’s enjoyment. “I would never…”

“I know you have been honorable.” Rasheed cut the young man off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “As I was saying, it has been good having you in my home. It was only natural for Suraya to become infatuated with you. I would rather you stayed at my home longer but this will be less of a temptation for you.”

“Suraya cares for me. Is this true?” Mehmed asked in a whisper. “Your daughter is so intelligent and…”

“Forget I mentioned it,” Rasheed ordered.

“Hey,” Donaldson called out from the doorway, his arms loaded with groceries. “I thought you guys were going to throw the bags down and help me with the groceries.”

Mehmed ran over to relieve Donaldson of three bags loaded with foodstuffs. “I am sorry, Agent Donaldson.”

“Forget it, M.” Donaldson grinned. “I figured Cold’s place would throw you for a loop. It will be like living in a friggin’ warehouse.”

“It is most impressive.” Mehmed led Donaldson toward the kitchen with the groceries.

“Maybe Cold will lease it to you indefinitely,” Donaldson suggested. “Reskova would never live here and he can only live in one place at a time. I’m never going to get you to call me Pete, am I?”

“As I said to Agent Rasheed, it makes me uncomfortable.” Mehmed smiled to take the edge off his words. “I do not ignore your requests because I wish to be disrespectful. I am the newbie.”

Donaldson and Rasheed laughed at Mehmed’s proud acceptance of his position on the squad.

“When will the Cold Mountain return from Iraq?” Mehmed began putting away the groceries. “He returned weeks ago from the meeting with my friends. AD Reskova made it possible for me to talk to them for a moment. If…”

“M,” Pete cut in, “we don’t speak of anything to do with operations outside the office. I haven’t had a chance to sweep Cold’s place yet. As I’ve shown you, there are even ways to hear things right through the walls.”

“In answer to your question though,” Rasheed spoke up, “rumor has it he will return soon. I know this because I have been observing Diane’s mood swings. She holds off the anxiety attacks with some success but I can tell she thinks Cold will be coming home soon. Even the devil dog has been acting strangely on his walks.”

“I think you’re confusing the Colonel with an earthquake, Kay,” Donaldson pointed out with a short laugh. “Animals sense forces of nature not people.”

“The Cold Mountain is a force of nature. Is that not so, young Mehmed?”

“I must agree with Agent Rasheed,” Mehmed answered immediately. “He is a disturbingly silent force of nature though. I really like Dino. I have never been around a dog like him.”

“Those three are a very strange trio,” Donaldson remarked. “I wish we could have found out where those two Hughes miscreants went to before the Colonel comes back.”

“It is like they vanished.” Rasheed sighed and sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. “Cold will not be pleased those two are still running around loose. We have not tied them in with the Russians yet either.”

“Once the news hit the streets about the Hughes brothers, Romanko really pulled in his mob.” Donaldson sat down too. “He probably has a couple guys looking for them himself.”

“I have trouble understanding why it is against the law to arrest known criminals.” Mehmed handed Rasheed a cup of tea he had brewed while straightening up the kitchen cupboards.

“Kay has a lot of trouble with that concept too.” Donaldson accepted a cup of tea from Mehmed. “If we do it any other way, we end up with the same type government Syria or Iran has. We need proof before we move on anyone here.”

“You did not seem too put out when we helped Cold with his little visit that one night,” Rasheed reminded Donaldson.

“That’s the problem, Kay. The stuff is habit forming, especially when someone close is in danger.”

“I will be happy when
Shaun of the Dead
gets back,” Rasheed announced as Mehmed laughed at the reference Rasheed had explained to him weeks ago. “He seems to know exactly what can be done without going to prison.”

“I think he’s even corrupted Diane,” Donaldson agreed. “It helps a bit when you save a Senator’s niece too. Hokanson’s a good guy to have on our side.”

“How is Nancy doing?”

“Getting testy, Kay, getting testy.”

“She does not enjoy her pregnancy?”

“What part, the throwing up, the incontinency, the breast pain, the stretch marks, the…”

“Okay, okay.” Rasheed laughed, holding up his hands in a surrendering fashion. “It will be over soon. Nancy will then have to deal with the post natal depression.”

“What?!” Donaldson exclaimed, sitting up in his chair. “What do you mean post natal depression?”

“Women become depressed after the birth of a child. They sometimes entertain thoughts of suicide. Some have even blamed the depression for murdering their own children,” Rasheed explained. Both Donaldson and Mehmed stared at him with stunned expressions. “Ah, I see you do not know about the hidden plights of fatherhood.”

“You’re scaring me again, Kay,” Donaldson warned, stabbing his finger at Rasheed. “Lately, when I get scared, I get violent.”

Rasheed burst into raucous laughter. Many minutes passed before he could speak. “Oh, my friend, you are indeed a treasure of naiveté. Such things do not happen to every woman. You do not have to take everything so seriously. You married the woman. That in itself will ease your burden.”

“This marriage and being a parent is not as I once thought.” Mehmed was still shaken at Rasheed’s description of the less enjoyable aspects of becoming a parent. “You are happy sometimes are you not Agent Donaldson?”

“Don’t let Kay here poison you with his know-it-all crap about marriage, M. He’s still married and happy. You lived with him. His life is not some living hell.”

“I hide it very well,” Rasheed expounded, looking upwards with a thoughtful expression as if in deep contemplation.

“Oh, you think I won’t repeat this conversation to Ansa word for word?”

“That is so not funny, Pete.” Rasheed leaned across the table as Mehmed began to smile in appreciation of this sudden change in Rasheed’s demeanor. “I thought we agreed what is said outside of my home stays outside of my home. You cannot simply blackmail me every time I try to give you the hard earned knowledge I have gained over the years.”

“Relax. I won’t rat you out to Ansa. I just enjoy seeing you jerk to attention at the mention of her name. Besides, you started it.”

“You are very happy in your home, Agent Rasheed. I am envious of your home life. I hope to have as much one day.”

“Easy, young Mehmed,” Rasheed cautioned. “I did not mean to frighten you. I must be brutally honest with Pete or he becomes lost in his delusions.”

“Delusions?” Donaldson repeated.

“This banter between you two is very enjoyable,” Mehmed interjected before Rasheed could continue. “It was good of you to invite me to your wedding, Agent Donaldson.”

“I wanted as many people there who could keep a straight face as possible.” Donaldson looked pointedly at Rasheed.

“I did not mean to laugh. For the thousandth time, I am sorry to have laughed as the minister asked if anyone had any objection to the marriage.”

“You were my best man, Kay.” Donaldson contemplated the tabletop, shaking his head regretfully.

“Oh, do not go into that doleful poor Pete act again,” Rasheed said, as Mehmed stifled his own laughter, having heard this subject acted out before. “I was caught unaware by that part of the ceremony. Remember, you did not have a practice run.”

“So it’s my fault you made my marriage ceremony into a joke?” Donaldson warmed again to Rasheed’s faux pas at his wedding.

“It was the dead silence that followed which gave me away.”

All three men laughed at Rasheed’s final rendering.

“I have to admit,” Donaldson began again, “that really made it memorable. It ain’t what goes right, it’s what goes wrong.”

“Don’t worry though, Ansa and Jen have been torturing me with it ever since the wedding. Is that not true, Mehmed?”

“Yes,” Mehmed gestured affirmatively at Donaldson. “They will comment on it no matter what is being discussed. It is as Agent Rasheed explains, using the John Wayne movie
True Grit
, the two of them draw it like a gun to harass him with. It is most enjoyable… I mean… ah… it is most unfortunate.”

“Anyway,” Donaldson said finally, “Nancy’s fine. I guess I’ll catch hell from the Colonel for rushing into marriage with her though.”

“Not likely. The Cold Mountain knows of these things. Death would be preferable to the unending trips of guilt which would have been visited on you had you tried to avoid marrying Nancy. He will be sorry he missed your ceremony, if only because he did not witness my humiliation first hand.”

“I have the camcorder tape, Kay.”

“Oh thank you for reminding me my gaff can be treasured for eternity.”

“No problem, want a copy?”

“No. I have Ansa and Jen if I ever forget a single instant of it,” Rasheed answered, standing up and looking at his watch. “Well, are you both ready to go see how much trouble we can get into?”

Donaldson looked at his watch. “We’re right on time to set up. You do understand we’re observing, right Kay?”

“Why is it you immediately cast dispersions on my ability to follow orders during a mission? Mehmed and I will stand next to the traitorous dogs from the ACLU and the Al Queda lobbying stooges in front of the White House while they scream their obscenities. We will record anything useful.”

“Don’t forget about blending in,” Donaldson reminded Rasheed as the three men left McDaniels’ loft apartment. Mehmed locked up behind them.

“What would you suggest, Agent Donaldson, we give them all blow jobs while they scream and shout?” Rasheed asked with a sincere look on his face.

“I will not do this!” Mehmed shouted suddenly, dropping his newly attained keys.

Hilarity ensued over Mehmed’s literal interpretation. Donaldson put a reassuring arm around the young man’s shoulders.

“Don’t pay any attention to him, M. He’s only joking around. Kay doesn’t like these people we’re watching today. A couple of the Syrian gang will supposedly be there. We want to see if they act like they’re in charge or merely hanging out with the rest.”

“I am sorry. It is sometimes difficult to tell when you two are joking. What will this exercise provide us?”

“Probably nothing,” Rasheed answered for Donaldson as they climbed into the surveillance van with Rasheed behind the wheel. “We know you will recognize the Syrians from your duties on the surveillance team. Get close to them. Look like you might be a new recruit. I am your backup. If I see something wrong, I will walk up to one of the men beside you.”

“Then we walk away together,” Mehmed finished.

“Correct.”

“If you guys leave the dance, I’ll meet you around the corner with the van. Remember, get me some good views. We want full face shots, M.”

“With these special sun glasses, that should not be a problem,” Mehmed removed the sunglasses from his shirt pocket. “I look like a movie star with these on.”

 “Do not get too excited out there, newbie,” Rasheed warned. “Suraya will surely blame me for anything unfortunate happening to you. I will be close but not too close. If I say down you dive for the ground and ask questions later.”

“I remember, Sir.”

“Suraya would be unhappy if I were to come to harm?” Mehmed asked hesitantly after a moment.

“Do not dwell on such things, newbie.”

“You brought it up, Kay,” Donaldson pointed out from the back.

“You stay out of this, infidel.” Rasheed scowled at Donaldson.

* * *

Cold and overcast, the weather in the vicinity of the White House matched the mood set by the protest group leaders. Instead of the thousands they had hoped for, less than a hundred people were grouping around them. Some held anti-war signs while others simply proclaimed a visceral hatred of the United States President. Mehmed wandered near the small group of men leading the contingent of Arab lobbying groups. He jockeyed to positions where the miniature video receiver in his sunglasses picked up full frontal shots of each leader. All the while, Mehmed sported a grim, angry look. He cavorted angrily with the others near the gated enclosure around the White House.

Rasheed, who stood with some others nearby, watched Mehmed with a smile.

“He is a natural, Pete,” Rasheed whispered into his com unit.

“Look at that expression on his face. I feel like shooting him myself.”