Monster (74 page)

Reskova sat silently for a few minutes. McDaniels watched a tear run down the side of her face as she set her mouth tightly, controlling the rage seething through her. She glanced over at him finally.

“I’ll bring you all the data we’ve compiled so far and get you access to a live satellite feed. I can tell the Scooby gang you took leave to see your friends on the Reservation. I doubt any of them will believe me but deniability is a must. As long as Aginson doesn’t start looking for you we’ll be fine. Be sure you stick around long enough to make him look real good in front of the Senate committee. After that, I doubt he’ll show much interest in what you do with your month’s leave. You do realize it will not be possible for you to execute everyone you find involved with the Hughes brothers, right?”

McDaniels looked over at Reskova until she glanced his way. She quickly returned her attention back to the road.

Reskova sighed. “Okay… okay… but promise me you won’t take the heads.”

* * *

Barrington and Rutledge waited for the rest of their team to check in. Rasheed opened the office door with his security card, followed closely by Donaldson and Mehmed.

“Jen, you debrief M. I’ll talk to the Bowery Boys in my office,” Barrington said, signaling for Rasheed to keep silent.

“Step this way, M. Wow, it’s really special talking to someone who should be dead.”

Rasheed filed past Rutledge with a sour glance. He and Donaldson walked toward Barrington’s office in silence. Inside, Barrington motioned for them to sit down.

“What the hell happened?”

“The Colonel showed up, Sir,” Donaldson began. “He…”

“McDaniels?!”

“Yes, Sir.”

“He came in on a special military flight last night,” Rasheed added. “Cold surprised Diane and talked her into letting him surprise us. Luckily for Mehmed, the Cold Mountain stopped Sadiq from slicing Mehmed up. We made it out of the crowd before anyone noticed.”

“How does he… never mind. I told Diane M would not be in any danger. What went wrong?”

“The good news is we were right about Mohsin and Sadiq,” Rasheed answered. “They could not have had information on al Zoubi’s encampment without having assumed Mero’s inside authority.”

“The bad news is we almost lost M,” Donaldson admitted.

“This is not an exact science. Thank God the Colonel pulled off another miracle for us. I should have sent…”

“Don’t say it, Boss,” Rasheed cut in. “Jen would have looked so out of place there, Mohsin would have been on to us in seconds. Pete and I will come up with a better plan in the event we need to observe another al Queda get together like that one.”

“I take it our live feeds came through okay?” Donaldson asked.

“Oh yeah, Jen and I were on the edge of our seats. How did our translation program work in the van?”

“Almost as fast as real time,” Donaldson answered.

“On a lighter note,” Rasheed interjected, “I am having a welcome home party at my house for the Cold Mountain. You are of course invited. You may bring Agent Albatross with you.”

Barrington and Donaldson both laughed at Rasheed’s mention of Rutledge.

“Jen’s going to be all over us because of this,” Rasheed muttered.

“She tortured us for weeks over that little mistake with the Russians,” Donaldson agreed. “I guess you couldn’t give us a little insight into Jen’s miscues could you, Boss?”

“Let me think about that,” Barrington mused, leaning back and then forward again. “No!”

“Can I bring Nancy with me, Kay?” Donaldson asked after they all shared a laugh. “Her and Diane seemed okay at the Christmas party.”

“I am sure it will be okay. Diane hugged Nancy and congratulated her at your wedding. I doubt you need worry unless Nancy went double again on you.”

“Nope, her traitor days are over.”

“Aginson kept her on even after we were sure the Syrians had no idea who she was. He told me she was doing first class work. The safeties in place prevent anything like what happened before. They should have been part of the protocols anyhow. You guys work with Jen. I want everything on those two Syrians and a plan for getting more.”

“We could wait until Cold returns to work and let him wipe out the Syrian embassy,” Rasheed ducked the pen Barrington threw at his head. “One surveillance plan coming up, Boss.”

* * *

“Are you sure I look okay?” Tamara asked as Pete backed into a parking spot near the Rasheed’s house.

Donaldson straightened the Intrepid and shut off the car. He looked over at his wife, not for the first time thanking God she had been in trouble. If not for McDaniels assigning her to him after Nancy’s interrogation, Donaldson wondered if they would have ever ended up together. He marveled at her dedication to making amends for what she had done. Donaldson leaned over and kissed her gently on the mouth, moving down over her neck until she shivered.

“You look exquisite,” Donaldson whispered in her ear.

“How does Ansa do it? She comes up with a dinner for ten within a couple hours notice. How…”

“You think she’s cooking it from scratch? No wonder you keep getting these feelings of inadequacy. Kay stopped and brought home the whole dinner from an Italian restaurant near his house. I’d be looking for a new partner if Kay ever sprung something like that on Ansa.”

“That makes me feel a little better.” Tamara drew nearer to Donaldson. “I guess you know how weird this is, going to a dinner party with the men who buried me alive and interrogated me like I was in a Russian Gulag. I…”

“You forgot to mention marrying one of them,” Donaldson broke in. “One of them was the best man and the other was responsible for the wedding happening. I wrote you off my romantic list the moment we confirmed you were an al Queda spy. The Colonel decided to put you in my charge.”

“It’s insane.” Tamara covered her face with both hands.

Donaldson pulled her hands away. He leaned in only inches away from Nancy’s face. “No, it was the greatest day of my life. Everything has changed for me since that day. We have each other now forever.”

“It was not the greatest day in my life,” Tamara whispered.

“Well, boo hoo, don’t sell out your country and you won’t get buried alive.”

Tamara blushed.

“You just love how humiliated and helpless I was when you took me out of that coffin the Colonel had rigged up.”

“Oh baby.” Donaldson stroked her cheek.

“Oh God, Pete,” Tamara stripped out of the light jacket she had on. “I’ll straddle you… just come here.”

Rasheed answered the door within a split second of Donaldson’s knock.

“Hello, my friend.” Rasheed gestured for Donaldson and Tamara to come in.

“Shit!” Donaldson muttered under his breath.

“Yes, I saw you drive up. I thought you might have had car trouble because you left the driver’s side and… well… the ensuing steaming of the windows… I…”

“Shut up, Kay,” Donaldson cut him off.

“Hello, Nancy,” Rasheed shouldered Donaldson aside and hugged Tamara. “Thank you for coming. How are you?”

“Thanks, Kay, I’m good.” Tamara hugged Rasheed back. “You weren’t really…”

“Only until the windows started steaming.” Rasheed held up his hands. “Come, I have told no one of your…”

“Shut up, Kay,” Donaldson repeated, taking Tamara’s hand.

Chapter 53

Friends

Inside the Rasheed living room McDaniels and Reskova played with little Cold, building up blocks and toy cups for the little boy to smash down. Little Cold would have to be held at bay by a quickly moving McDaniels. Otherwise, the child would kick, slap, or ram into the blocks and cups before they were built up, laughing with delight. Tamara paused in the living room doorway watching whom she knew to be a cold-blooded killer playing delightedly with a young child. McDaniels looked up, grabbing the squealing little Cold in his arms, enabling Reskova to build up the remaining toy-block wall.

“Hi, Nancy,” McDaniels let little Cold attack Reskova’s toy-block building with energy. “You look great. How many months?”

“We think six,” Tamara embraced Rutledge who put both hands over Tamara’s stomach, acting as if she were a Swami deciphering the future.”

“It’s a girl.”

“How…”

“I told her already, Nanc,” Donaldson broke in. “She was riding me like I was a carnival merry-go-round horse.”

McDaniels scooped up the little Cold, shifting him upwards to his shoulders, very close to the ceiling of Rasheed’s living room. McDaniels shook Tamara’s hand gently. To McDaniels’ surprise, Tamara wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I’m glad you’re back, Colonel.” Tamara released McDaniels. She backed into Donaldson’s arms.

McDaniels set the little Cold on the floor. The baby toddled over in the middle of the adult group. Ansa and Suraya walked out of the kitchen to join them. Mehmed, who had been recruited to help move the table and chairs around followed closely behind.

“Hi!” The little boy called out, waving at the group with a big smile.

Donaldson scooped up the little Cold. He shook hands with Barrington and McDaniels. Nancy took the little boy from Donaldson. Ansa and Suraya gave Nancy a quick hug hello while ducking pinching movements from little Cold. Donaldson shook hands with Mehmed, noticing Suraya’s eyes darting back constantly toward the young man.

“M, did you tell Suraya about your brush with death… what?” Donaldson remarked questioningly as both Mehmed and Rasheed fixed him with negative looks.

“Father?” Suraya hurried over next to a suddenly reticent Mehmed and grasping his arm. “What is this about death?”

“A minor incident,” Rasheed replied quickly. “As usual, Agent Donaldson, the big girl, is overreacting. Is that not so, Cold Mountain?”

“Right as rain, Kay.”

“What about this, Mehmed?” Ansa asked sternly, joining her daughter near the very uncomfortable Mehmed. “No, do not look at my husband, young man.”

“The Cold Mountain saved my life,” Mehmed blurted out after trying to meet Ansa’s stare for a moment.

“Oh Mehmed.” Suraya clung tightly to the young man. “You must quit this terrible work.”

“Control yourself, daughter,” Rasheed rebuked his child. “Mehmed, can you not hold your tongue at all? I…”

“He is only a boy, husband,” Ansa cut in. “How could you put him in such a situation?”

“I was in the situation,” Rasheed answered, with growing frustration. “Agent Big Girl and I are already working on better techniques for future…”

“Mehmed!” Suraya interrupted. “Tell me there will be no future anything.”

“I…I cannot, Suraya,” Mehmed replied haltingly. “They need me. I…”

“Ansa,” McDaniels cut in gently, “Mehmed may be young, but he is a man. It is not appropriate to cast dispersions on the honorable course he has chosen. He helped me save a family in Syria with his life in danger every moment. We will look after him as much as humanly possible.”

“It is just so, Mrs. Rasheed.” Mehmed nodded his head vigorously, even while white heat raced from his arm where Suraya gripped him to his brain. “I am a soldier for America now. I am not a boy.”

Suraya sobbed, leaning her head tightly against Mehmed’s shoulder. Little Cold, seeing his sister begin to cry, joined her immediately. Ansa looked at Mehmed with softening eyes. She reached up to stroke his cheek.

“I am sorry, Mehmed,” Ansa stated solemnly. She took little Cold in her arms and shushed him. “Suraya, stop your crying. We are dishonoring a brave soldier.”

“We do need him,” Barrington said. “I will work with Pete and Kay to make sure anything we do from now on will be better coordinated.”

“I know you will, Tom. Come, we women will go into the kitchen and begin setting the table.”

When Reskova remained still as Ansa ushered Suraya into the next room with Nancy close behind. Rutledge put a hand on Reskova’s shoulder, urging her away from where she stood next to McDaniels.

“C’mon, Diane, that means us too,” Rutledge directed. “We’ll let Kay go drag out his hideaway bottle and pour all the boys a shotsky.”

Reskova laughed. She touched McDaniels’ hand before following Rutledge into the kitchen. Rasheed let out a sigh of relief. He rushed over to a bookcase where he smilingly reached behind the books on the bottom shelf. Moments later he retrieved a bottle of Bushmills Irish Whiskey and a small shot glass holder. After passing out the shot glasses he poured the whiskey carefully, ignoring Donaldson’s shot glass purposefully.

“Why did you not go into the kitchen with the other women?” Rasheed glared at Donaldson.

“C’mon, Kay,” Donaldson protested. “How was I to know you and M were hiding his little adventure? We were fine until Ansa stared this little weasel M down. He started confessing like she was sticking bamboo shoots under his fingernails.”

“That is true.” Rasheed turned his attention to Mehmed as he poured whiskey into Donaldson’s shot glass.

“I…I… tried… ah…” Mehmed stuttered comically. “It was Suraya. I could not think with her gripping my arm. I…”