The Observer (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 3) (24 page)

“A simple study of half-lives would ease your worries. No, the effects will be catastrophic.”

“And the other locations? Are they in place?”

“If needed, we have resources available to us.”

“We agreed to 12, did we not?” Tareef said.

“Our team in Sydney needed to be eliminated. We are regrouping and will soon overcome the obstacles.” The standing man moved towards the cabinet positioned against the far wall in Tareef’s study, bent over, removed an ornately designed, crystal pitcher filled with brown liquid. He raised the picture to his lips and drew deeply from it. “As for Toronto,” he continued, still holding the crystal pitcher, “the materials and associates are all in place. Toronto being the final and most dramatic statement, demands a level of secrecy that, I am sorry to say, prohibits even you, Tareef, from learning too much.”
 

“I would object to your summation, however, there are more pressing matters.”

“Your speech?” the standing man said. “Is it prepared?”

“The final touches remain. Timing. Emphasis where required. But, yes, it is ready. It will leave the infidel’s souls screaming in doubt.”

“And the time of your speech? Any changes to the schedule?”

“I will be given the floor at precisely five-thirty PM. I am allotted 15 minutes. A minute after my speech,
our
speech begins.” Tareef paused then grew sullen when the expected reaction was not realized, “Our plans will commence. Will I be graced with your attendance?”

“I am afraid not. The farther away I am, the better for all of us. I will return to Washington early afternoon. What I needed to accomplish here in this lovely city is completed. My lingering may be noticed,”

“Your assistance will be forever remembered.”

"Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow.”

August 15, 2014

Aahill liked the new apartment much more than the one he had lived in for the past several months. While he did enjoy living directly above the mosque, making getting to work a simple matter of walking down a flight of stairs, the old apartment was too empty. While he didn’t have friends to invite over, he felt that, if he did have someone to invite, the cramped apartment would be embarrassing. The new apartment was much bigger, had new furniture and even had separate rooms.

He was told that his old apartment was being renovated when he asked if he would be living in the new place for long.

“Aahill,” one of the men said, “do you understand what you are doing tomorrow?”

“Making the announcement?”

“And do you know what it means to make the announcement?”

“Only that Allah will be praised, and my name will be written alongside the great men. Oh, and that the infidels will be punished.”

“Do you know what an infidel is?” the man asked, his face calm and relaxed with a small smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“Anyone who doesn’t believe in Allah and in our way.”

“Exactly,” the man said, smiling a broad and carefully constructed smile. “You need to rest. Today is your day, Aahill. And you need to be fully rested.”

“I’m not all that tired,” Aahill said.

“Still, today is a long and very important day. You need to be sharp, alert.”

“I am.”

“Do you remember what you need to do today?” the man asked.

“I drive the big car over to the pub we went to yesterday. I park outside as close to the pub as I can. I wait for Badr to call me on the cell phone you gave me. Then, I walk into the pub, right into the middle and just stand there.”

“And what do you need to make sure you bring with you when you walk into the pub?”

“The black bag that will be inside the heavy briefcase,” Aahill said with pride.

“Very good, Aahill. Badr was right; you are the chosen one.”

The man walked over to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator then poured a tall drink from a plastic milk jug. His face was stern as he carried the glass and handed it to Aahill. “You need to drink this quickly. Once you’ve finished, I will pour you another one.”

“What kind of drink is it?” Aahill asked. “It looks like dirty water.”

“It is to purify your spirit,” the man said. “You must be made ready for your announcement.”

Aahill smiled, then brought the glass to his lips. “Praise to Allah,” he said before chugging the drink. “Kind of sweet, but not too bad.”

“Glad you like it. I will fetch you another drink shortly. Till then, you should relax. Tell me again what you need to do when your time arrives.”

Aahill repeated the instructions that he had been given countless times. He knew every step he was supposed to take, when he was to take those steps and what he should be thinking during each step.

“We’ve chosen the secondary location for your entrance, Aahill.”

“Why?” Aahill asked. “I thought the one with the glass doors was better? You said so yourself.”

“Aahill,” the man said as he sat beside Aahill on the couch. “Did you
 
think I would not notice your expression when I suggested that place as your location? I know you liked the other place more. I watched your face when we walked in and saw how excited you were. You are guided by Allah, Aahill. Who am I to question you? I am sorry for having doubted you, Aahill. You were being too kind and generous when agreeing with my suggestion. You are truly just and upright in all things.”

“Does my mentor know that we’ve changed the location?” Aahill asked.

“Of course! In fact, Badr was rather upset with me for selecting the alternate location. I told him that you seemed to like the location we are now using more. He told me that I was too filled with pride when I suggested the location with the glass doors.”

Aahill wanted to please his mentor. Badr had been nothing but kind to him and had given him so much. Aahill was never asked to do anything without being told why something needed to be done and, in the case of his cleaning job, was paid for his compliance.

“Lastly,” the man said, “your mentor also wants you to wear a special vest when you carry in the briefcase.”

“What makes it special?”

“It will ensure that your announcement is heard. The vest will be heavy and complicated. I will assist you in putting it on when your time comes. Now,” the man said as he stood and began walking towards the kitchen, “let me prepare another drink for you. Drink this one slowly. Sip by sip by sip, until the glass is empty.”

***I***

When he was certain that Aahill was sound asleep and was unable to be woken, Aahill’s assistant, Rehan left the Bronx apartment building, got into a waiting car outside of the 35-story brownstone, and sat in silence as the driver brought him to the warehouse in Manhattan. His plans were to spend no more than 15 minutes retrieving the supplies and materials at the warehouse, then to be driven over to the “announcement location,” to check for unusual activity.

The men he was scheduled to meet with inside the warehouse, the same men who were charged with the handling of the materials and for giving him the handling instructions, were, as expected, waiting inside the near-empty warehouse.

“On time as usual, Rehan. Can I tell Tareef that all is well with Aahill?”

“Sleeping like a baby. He seems confused but, considering how he was when Badr found him, this should not be a surprise.”

“He served us well and, as long as our plan continues on its path, he will forever be remembered not for his weaknesses but for his assumed courage.”

“Why do you doubt that our plan will not be completed? Have you heard things that I have not?”

“Rehan,” the man said, “you know as much as I do. You’ve heard of the disturbances with the federal agents. While our American friend has dispensed of the most concerning agent, one is still roaming about. This agent dug a bit too deeply for our comfort and might possibly have learned things that make him a danger.”

“Our resources have found no trace of him?” Rehan asked.

“Gone like a whisper in a wind storm. Even Tareef, who asked to not be informed of concerns he feels
we
should handle, is worried about this agent. Yes, Special Agent Juan Cortez is a worry.”

“Then we should not delay.”

The two men walked towards the back of the poorly lit warehouse and stopped when they reached a large, dark gray briefcase.

“It is heavier than we expected,” the man said to Rehan. “Of course, Aahill will only need to carry the smaller case that sits inside this lead case, but still, if the medicine you’ve given him makes him uneasy on his feet…”

“He will be steady. I’ve tested the medicine myself. While it is effective, the effects will be greatly diminished when his time arrives.”

“Will he be able to drive to the location?” the man asked.

“The route to the new location is much simpler than what Aahill has practiced. I will be sitting beside him in the car until I instruct him to pull over and let me out. I will be positioned close enough to see that he parks in the spot reserved.”

“Your planning has been excellent, Rehan. Excellent.”

“So many details have been considered. You, of course will be parked in the spot across from the location, yes?”

“And will vacate the parking spot as soon as you call me.”

“And then you will take care of Badr and the others we expect to be by his side?”

“Yes. I will sit in Badr’s throne of pride, watching our leader deliver his speech to the infidels. When he finishes, I will call Aahill and tell him his announcement time has arrived.”

Rehan smiled, then, glancing at the suitcase that held the vest and the leaden case that sat beside it, asked “I am certainly willing to give my life to Allah and to the caliphate.”

“No one doubts that, Rehan.”

“I am worried, however, about being exposed to the materials.”

“The lead will halt the radioactivity. Truly, the only person who will be exposed will be Aahill when he opens the case and removes the three containers. Aahill and, of course, everyone within a two mile radius, that is.”

“And my exposure once the vest detonates and the contents are atomized and spread?”

“Minor, at most. When you see Aahill walking into the location, begin retreating to a safer distance. Remember, this release of radioactivity is only to give notice that we have nuclear capabilities. The explosion from the vest will serve only to atomize the liquid surrounding the spent rods and to spread the radioactivity as far as the winds blow. It won’t be enough to cause increased damage or wide-spread illness. It will bring terror into the hearts of our enemies and cripple this city. It will cost millions to evacuate, clean up and might possibly shut down the immediate area for months or even years.”

Rehan paused while staring at the leaden suitcase near his feet. “And when Aahill has completed his role, what happens with me?”

“Same as we have discussed. You will make your way to Syracuse. Reservations at the hotel airport have already been secured under your name. Stay two nights. Your boarding passes will be emailed to you the morning of your flight. Your travel will be long, but you will arrive in Yemen six days after tomorrow.”

Rehan believed that once Aahill had completed his announcement that his value would be enhanced. He will have proven himself a superb planner and organizer and to be a trusted member of the newly formed military. Yet, he was also well aware of how Tareef covered his tracks. As members of Tareef’s team completed their duties, they were killed, leaving no chance that a captured member could finger Tareef as the mastermind.
 

No.
 

Rehan had his own plan of escape, one that he designed after seeing Tareef’s solution to quieting Abdul Fattah Huda. He would disappear the second after Aahill parked the car outside of the location. He had no family to worry about taking the punishment for his disappearance and felt the risk of following Tareef’s exit plan was greater than the risk of being wrong and losing out on a great and powerful position in the new country. Still, he was proud of his involvement, no matter if he would ever be recognized for his contributions.
He
would know, and someday he would make the world aware in his own way.

“Our time grows short,” Rehan said, raising his gaze to meet his accomplice's. “Today, our announcement will be heard around the world.”

“And today,” the man said, “our dream becomes reality.”

Derek and Nikkie sat in the hotel’s restaurant, picking at their breakfast and charging coffee down their throats. After leaving Patrick Connor last night, they had nothing to do but wait. Wait until Connor contacted them again and told them what was needed of them. Derek and Nikkie tried their hand at small talk, but more silence hung in the air than words.

“Wish Connor would call,” Derek said. “It’s almost ten, and we’ve heard nothing. This waiting is killing me.”

“It is entirely possible,” Nikkie said, her voice much calmer than Derek’s, “that our services are no longer needed. Connor, the NYPD and the FBI may have everything set up to stop Aahill and are now figuring out how to catch the masterminds behind this whole plot. They may even have Aahill and others in custody as we speak.”

“Or, they may be scrambling resources and preparing hospitals and first responders to get ready for mass casualties.”

“I don’t think they’d do that. Alerting anyone about what’s going on would cause mass panic. Word would get out, and the last thing the NYPD wants is panic in the streets of Manhattan.”

Silence again hung heavy in the air.

It was close to 11 in the morning before Derek’s iPhone rang. Derek and Nikkie had given up their seat in the restaurant and had moved to a quiet area of the hotel lobby to finish their waiting-for-word vigil.

“Cole, it’s Connor. You and Nikkie together?”

“Yes,” Derek said. “We’re in the hotel lobby. What’s the word?”

“I contacted the FBI last night. Was routed to Agent Roger Foster who has assumed lead on the case. I told him everything you found out. He called me back 20 minutes later and arranged a meeting at my precinct. Here’s what’s happening. FBI is pulling agents from the area and have already taken positions in every building within a two block radius of Aahill’s target. NYPD will have six response teams standing by, out of sight and not in marked vehicles. We also will have nearly 100 officers, all plainclothes, either walking near the target, inside the tavern or inside the other businesses near the target.