“Teddy and I will take the back side. Keep your radio channel open. On my word, we’ll storm the doors. The guy’s name is Ammar. He’s about six feet, dark skin, shiny black hair, no beard, good-looking dude. Maybe they’ll give him up right away, but be prepared for anything. These people are crazy. Once we make the grab, we’ll get him out the back to avoid attention.”
After they dropped off George, Teddy parked near the back door with the front of the SUV facing the exit. They got out and left the doors cracked open. Teddy took the other shotgun, and Joan grabbed the Taser, which she hooked onto her waist belt. She removed the Smith and Wesson pistol from the holster that rode over her back right hip.
They walked quickly to the back doors.
Joan talked softly, “We’ll both go in here. If we hear the loading door start to open, you cover it. I’ll go straight ahead.” Teddy nodded and stood to the left of her. Both of them flattened on either side of the regular door with their weapons up. The Kevlar vest dug into her armpits and hurt. After all the cop shows on TV, Joan felt a little stupid, but this was proper training.
She spoke into the radio clipped to her shoulder. “George… Go!”
She and Teddy folded into the door, which was unlocked. Inside, they spread immediately and raised their weapons, announced themselves, and demanded Ammar.
The room they entered was small but opened to a long hallway. Coming in from the summer warmth, it felt cool. Ahead of them, a lone man in brown robes bolted down the hall. They ordered him to stop, but he kept moving.
Joan and Teddy hurried after him. To the right and left of the hallway, sat several rooms. They cleared each one before moving on. In the front, they could hear George doing his work.
As they approached the end of the hallway, it opened to a large room covered in Persian rugs, which Joan assumed was the worship area. Several older, bearded men stood in a semi-circle in front of George with their hands in the air.
Joan approached and studied them carefully. They looked scared, and all of them stared at the ground. Excitement surged through her body like a wave of heat coming up from a hot sidewalk. She loved this part. To have people like this cower before her, to obey her. The power and anticipation of success intoxicated her.
“Everyone take it easy. All we want is Ammar. Where is he?” she shouted.
No one responded.
Joan holstered her pistol, pulled the Taser off her belt, and walked to the guy who seemed to be the leader. “You in charge?”
When he nodded, he flicked his eyes up to hers for a moment. Instead of fear, she saw hate and anger. That would make her job easier.
Joan held up the Taser. “I’m only asking once more, old man. Where the fuck is he?”
The man’s mouth moved without opening. Finally, he said, “Are you looking for Dr. Kamal? He is not here.”
“Kamal …? Whatever. Where the fuck is he?”
“He was supposed to be here, but he is not here yet,” the man said. Saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth over his gray beard.
Joan turned to Teddy. “Search the place.”
In five minutes, he returned with a group of young boys. They straggled in front of him until they reached the bigger group. Joan smiled and dropped her Taser to the side. “All right, relax,” she said. “Now we’re making progress.” Both other agents lowered their weapons and the circle of clerics put their hands down also.
“When’s he coming?” Joan demanded.
The old man opened his hands, palms out, toward her. “I do not know. We are waiting for him. What is this about?”
“You know damn well what we mean,” shouted George. “The smallpox epidemic. Some new ‘gee-had’ of yours.”
Frowns creased the faces of several of the men. They looked at each other. “Smallpox?” one asked.
“That’s enough!” Joan ordered. “We’ll just wait for your friend with you. No one will leave until Ammar gets here. Let’s be cool here, guys. All we want is Ammar. No trouble. We’ll take him out for questioning and leave you alone,” she lied.
When she saw their eyes darting amongst themselves, she moved closer to Teddy and George. To be safe, Joan ordered a search of each one for weapons. Then, she’d isolate them in one of the small rooms.
After the search had been completed, they moved the group, including the boys, down the hall to the first room on the right. It took a long time for each one to file through the narrow entrance. As she was about to walk away to guard the outer doors while waiting for Ammar, Joan noticed one of the men in the back talking fast on his cell phone.
Alerting Teddy, she stormed through the crowd, pushed people aside, and grabbed the man by the arm with the phone. With her other hand, she slammed the end of her Taser into his face. He dropped the cell and screamed in pain. His lower lip cracked open. Blood spurted out.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she said.
With Teddy holding the shotgun on the man, Joan reached down to pick up the phone. He had managed to click it off but she keyed into it and went to the menu for recent calls.
Her breath stopped when she saw the man had called Channel Six TV news.
Forty-One
From her balcony, Zehra saw his Mercedes pull into the parking lot far below. Up where she was, the hot breeze blew in from the west. It carried the metallic smell of new rain. She hurried back through the condo.
She wore jeans, tight but not too much. Although he was conservative, Mustafa was still a man. Something had to awaken him. She studied her makeup in the mirror and pulled at her thick hair. The humidity didn’t help. Curls threatened to burst out all over her head. Satisfied she couldn’t get it any better, she draped the scarf he’d given her around her neck and switched off the light.
Mustafa was at the entry downstairs.
Zehra buzzed him in and arranged some tea cups. The water bubbled and popped softly.
Like the air pushed aside by a speeding semi truck, he entered the condo behind a burst of energy. “Hello. You look beautiful. Are you ready?” he chattered.
“Well … yeah, but don’t you want some tea or pop? I’ve got a Diet Coke.” She tried to tempt him.
He squinted. “Uh … no thanks. We do not have much time.” He touched her briefly and from far away.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I have worked with these students on their projects for so long. I want everything to go well.”
“Relax. I’m looking forward to meeting them.” She paused and pulled on his arm to slow him down. “Are you missing something?”
He stopped, turned, and looked her up and down. Finally, he said, “Oh, the scarf! Thank you for wearing it. It is very beautiful on you. It complements the color of your skin.”
Zehra felt a hot blush flash quickly across her face. “Well, if you don’t have time for anything, I guess we should go, huh?”
They hurried across the hall to the elevator. Waiting for it made her nervous. She’d never seen Mustafa so agitated. Usually, he was in complete control of everything. He prided himself on his scientific approach to things-too much, Zehra thought, when it came to relationships. Those kinds of things weren’t meant to be controlled. How many times had she wished he would go “out of control” with her?
The FBI agent met them in the lobby. He would follow them in his car.
In the Benz, she sank back into the soft butter-colored leather seat and felt the cool wisp of air from the vents. Mustafa drove erratically and fast.
“Hey, slow down. I know this means a lot to you, but the traffic is still the tail-end of the rush hour.” Zehra looked over at him. His eyes bored straight ahead and his nostrils flared a little. She became concerned. “Don’t drive so fast. I want to enjoy the night.”
He jerked toward her. “Sorry. You are right.” He eased off on the speed and leaned back into the leather. “I have been so busy. It is nice to see you again. You make me feel calm and good.”