“Good,” Kharrazi said, walking away from the glass door and deeper into the small waiting area. There was a row of hard plastic chairs against the wall. Kharrazi dropped his weighted-down body on a seat farthest from the door and virtually undetectable from the outdoors. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his head down. He heard Reynolds sit down two seats away to his right.
“What is it, Walter?” Reynolds asked with sincere concern.
Kharrazi looked up. “Do you know anything about Kurds?”
Reynolds shrugged. “Just what I read in the paper.”
“What if I told you that the Kurds were the only ethnic group in the world without a nation of their own? And that they’ve been persecuted by the Iraqi and Turkish government for more than twenty years, with nowhere to run and call home. Can you imagine not having a place to call home?”
Reynolds looked confused.
“Then,” Kharrazi continued, “when the Kurds finally have enough financial backing to fight back, the United States sends its soldiers to Kurdistan to prevent them from defending themselves. Could you understand how frustrating that must have been for these poor people?"
Reynolds was nodding, but with a vacant stare. “Why are you telling me this?”
Kharrazi leaned close to Reynolds as if he was going to whisper the answer. His hand was already grasping the handle of his knife under his jacket. Reynolds turned his head to allow Kharrazi to get to his ear. Kharrazi said softly, “Because I want you to understand us before you die.”
Reynolds jumped back, but it was too late. The long blade had already punctured his heart as Kharrazi had shoved and twisted the knife under his ribcage. Kharrazi pressed his face up against Reynold’s face and watched closely as his eyes went from shocked to lifeless. Reynolds slumped to the floor and Kharrazi called to Tina. “Come here, quick.”
Tina looked startled. She rushed from behind her counter until she was close enough to see the blood saturate Reynold’s shirt. She stopped ten feet from Kharrazi, who already had his Beretta aimed at the girl. “If you scream or move, I’ll kill you.”
The girl anxiously stepped in place, her long, purple fingernails fluttering in the air. “Don’t hurt me, please.”
“I won’t, if you do exactly what I tell you.”
The girl was shaking. Her arms and elbows flapped like a chicken attempting flight. “Please,” she begged, “please, please. I’ll do anything.”
“You’re going to have to get a hold of yourself,” Kharrazi demanded. “You’re no good to me unless you calm down.” He yanked the knife from Reynold’s chest and swiped it clean on the dead man’s sleeve. He replaced his knife and gun to their holsters hidden under his jacket. Standing up he held out both hands. “Now, I want you to write a note on a blank sheet of paper.”
She started toward her counter.
“Stop,” Kharrazi said.
She turned to face him.
“If you make even the slightest gesture to signal anyone, I can remove my gun from its holster and have a fresh bullet inside of your body in less than three seconds. Do you understand me?”
She nodded.
“Good. Now, I want you to write in large letters, ‘Gone until 4 o’clock’, then tape it to the inside of the glass door.”
She pulled a sheet of paper from the copy machine and began to write the message. She stopped halfway through and looked at Kharrazi.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Well, there’s a charter flight due to leave here at 3:45. They may wonder-” she hesitated. As if she might be giving more information than she should have. Then, with a nervous wince, she said, “What are you going to do to me?”
“I’m going to tie you up and place you in the women’s room.”
“But I could be there for days. I’m the only one left with a key.”
“Relax. Once I get where I’m going, I’ll make an anonymous call and tell them to get you. I’m not as bad a person as you think, Tina.” He gave her a fatherly smile, then nodded toward the note. “Let’s put this on the door, as it is.”
She stretched a piece of scotch tape from her dispenser and taped the note to the glass door.
“Now, tell me about flight plans.”
“What do you need to know?”
Kharrazi heard the jet engines rev and knew his time was running short. “Where do you keep them?”
“In the computer.”
“Show me.”
She walked behind her counter and tapped a few keys on her computer. Kharrazi stood behind her. A moment later a screen displayed that days schedule. There were only two flights scheduled. “We only do flight plans for charters, the locals come and go with their props whenever they want.”
Kharrazi pointed to the screen. “Can you delete the flight plan for my charter?”
She looked at him skeptically. “Why?”
“Please, just do as I say.”
Her fingers worked tentatively, as if there was an internal struggle going on in her brain. Kharrazi hoped that she wouldn’t recognize her fate until she was finished with her task.
“There,” she said, “It’s done.”
“Good. Now, do you have to signal the pilots before they take off?”
“Yes.”
“What do you tell them?”
“I let them know they’re cleared for take-off. But it’s mostly ceremonial. We don’t have any control tower or anything.”
“Tell them that you have to leave-you have to go home. Do you have any kids?”
She shook her head.
“A sister or a brother?”
“Two sisters.”
“Do the pilots know them?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Good. Tell them that you’re leaving. Your sister was in an accident and you have to go to the hospital, but that they’re clear for take-off. Understand?”
She nodded. Her voice cracked when she spoke to the pilots; she seemed noticeably upset. The pilots certainly must have thought her sister’s accident was the cause of her behavior.
“Go on, Tina. We’ll take it from here. I hope your sister’s going to be okay,” came back the pilot.
Kharrazi smiled. “Do you have a key to the door?”
She handed him a key ring with a set of wings attached. “It’s this one.”
“You’ve been a good girl, Tina. Just do me a favor and sit down right here.”
She stared at him warily as she crouched down below the counter.
“Turn toward the wall please,” Kharrazi said.
Slowly, she shifted her body away from Kharrazi, facing the wall, but her head strained to keep Kharrazi in her sights.
“Tina, it’s okay. I’m just going to tie you up. Turn around.”
The girl listened to her assassin just long enough for Kharrazi to draw his knife over her head and grab a handful of hair with his free hand. He pulled the sharp blade across her exposed neck with a quick, forceful jerk. Her hands scratched at his arms for a few desperate seconds, breaking every last nail until finally they fell to her side. When the weight of her dead body gave way, Kharrazi was struck with how light her head felt without her torso dragging it down.
“You must understand, Tina,” he whispered. “No one person should stop the persecution of thousand of innocent Kurds. Not even you.”
He peered over the counter and saw nothing to alarm him. He stood all the way and examined himself for any blood. A few spots, but his clothes were dark enough that they could be mistaken for a sloppy cup of coffee. He didn’t have time to do anything with the bodies. They were out of viewing distance from the front door and once the office was eventually opened up, it wouldn’t take long to figure out what had happened. He went to the door and left the building. While locking the door with Tina’s keys, he assured himself that he had at least three or four hours head start. And that was all he needed.
He hobbled back into the jet where the pilots were still preoccupied checking and double-checking instruments.
“See,” the pilot said to him, as they taxied to the runway. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”