Agent of Influence: A Thriller (33 page)

He bent down
to whisper to Colin. “Be ready. We’re going in.”

“Ok.
” Colin acknowledged the order, not wanting to risk any more words.

             
Sean gently nudged the floor above him, applying only as much pressure as he thought would be necessary to open it. The square section of the floor noiselessly swiveled upwards on well-oiled hinges, bringing a burst of light from the room above streaming into the black hole of the stairwell. Sean popped up, his bulging arms going through the opening first, his weapon sweeping the room for any potential targets.

The sheer opulence of the room was a stark contrast to the slum below them.  Sean’s upper body was near one of the corners of the room. The rest of the cavernous space, which appeared to run the full length of the second story, was covered with a thick, luxurious carpet, inlaid with spectacular hand woven designs crisscrossing the en
tire area. The walls were covered in the same intricate, inlaid marble found in many of the large mosques in Cairo. It was the pinnacle of geometric decoration. Gold ceiling fans whirled above him, creating a comfortable temperature compared to the stifling heat on the first floor of the building.

On the other end of the massive room, the old man was laying on the floor with his back to them. He lay prostrate on the floor, facing the lone window that was in the wall. A niche above the window indicated the direction of
Mecca.  Like a giant cat eyeing his unsuspecting prey, Sean climbed out of the floor, kicking his shoes off in one swift motion as he quickly covered the two hundred feet of plush carpet in silence. Colin followed, like a cub trailing a parent. Sweat trickled down his bald head as he stepped out of the stifling heat of the stairwell.

Their stalking came to an anticlimactic ending as they came within a few feet of the old man. Sean almost laughed. The old man was snoring quietly, having fallen asleep while praying. He reached down and lightly touched Aziz’s shoulder. The old man’s startled eyes popped open, and he turned to look quizzically at the two me
n. Sean motioned for him to stand up.

             
Aziz stretched his scrawny figure across the plush rug, trying to shake the cobwebs loose. He quietly obeyed Sean’s order.

             
“I would have never fallen asleep during prayer in my younger days. How embarrassing,” Aziz muttered to himself before continuing. “Colin, my friend, it good to see you. It has been a while.” Aziz ignored Sean, looking past him to the CIA case officer who stood behind him drying his face with a handkerchief.

“Swanky place for an old beggar like yourself
, Aziz.” Sean gestured at the opulence engulfing them, the business end of his pistol weaving dangerously in the air.

             
“I have friends who let me come here for prayers. I prefer to be alone when I commune with Allah,” Aziz replied.

“Sure beats the hell o
ut of the rat hole that you had in Islamic Cairo. It was a dump, and that was before you had it blown up.” Sean did not try to hide his irritation. His short stay in Cairo was proving to be extremely dangerous. He had been on Egyptian soil for only a few minutes when his limousine was assaulted by a group of kamikaze motorcycle fanatics. After a day of calm they set off to look for Aziz, first trying the obvious spot; the hovel where Colin introduced Anna to the old man for the first time. Perhaps not surprisingly, the hovel had been booby-trapped. They figured out their dilemma in time to jump out the window and into the alley just as the roof of the second floor came crashing down, destroying the little apartment.

             
“
Well, the people of Cairo have not been financially blessed by Allah. Tragedies occur all the time. Luckily no one upstairs was home at the time, so no dead.” Aziz picked his glasses off the floor and pushed them onto the skeletal remains of his face.  “Can I help you, gentlemen?” He asked calmly.

              Colin stepped forward, holstering his weapon in an attempt to relieve some of the tension in the massive room.  “I have some follow up questions for you, Aziz. Do you remember when I brought by the young lady from the FBI a few months ago? The one who had some questions regarding Aman?” Colin asked as he continued dabbing his neck with his handkerchief in a nervous gesture. The cool air permeating the room was slowly beginning to unglue his sweat-stained shirt from his body. 

Aziz looked to the ceiling, appearing to ponder the question like an absent-minded professor. “A few months ago... I barely remember what I did hour ago. It is problem getting old. I don’t recommend it.”

              “It beats the alternative.” Sean interjected himself into the conversation.

“I take it you must be American friend of Colin’s. Your rudeness gives you away. It is a distinct trait of all your people, no matter how hard you try
to mask it.”

Aziz turned his att
ention back towards Colin. “Now I remember, Colin. She also asked some questions about Aman’s stepson.”

             
“That’s correct. We’ve had some issues come up recently that need clarification.”             

“Such as?” Aziz asked.

              “I’ve recently learned that she didn’t leave Egypt of her own free will. She was expelled from the country for some made-up excuse about a passport violation. It seemed pretty minor to me, and I was asked to look into it.”

“What does this have to do with me
, Colin?”

             
“Aziz, I know you have contacts in the Egyptian government. High ups. I heard a rumor that you asked that she be expelled. Do you want to tell me why?

“I don’t know what you talking about,” Aziz retorted.

              “We’re not here to play games, Aziz. I don’t have time to fuck around. She told me all about it. She tried finding you again because she had some additional questions for you. Then she left the country abruptly. I had a little chat with our ambassador. He can be a real prick, by the way. He proceeded to tell me how our mutual friend in the government filed a personal complaint with the U.S. embassy. My question; is why would he even complain? She didn’t bother anyone in your government. Why did you harass her?” Colin stepped towards the shriveled old man in a menacing fashion.

“She was causing trouble. She was following business associates of mine around city. Asking questions that had nothing to do with her. She is lucky one of my associates
did not kill her.”

             
“What was it about her investigation that made you nervous, Aziz?” Sean cut in.

“Don’t play dumb with me you arrogant American. You know who she follow. I have no doubt that she told you that she follow Quasim. Quasim had contacts all over city. Don’t pretend with me. I don’t like games either. I have been playing them for too long as is.”

Sean watched the old man’s movements closely. He was sure Aziz was lying.. Before he arrived in Cairo, Sean had faxed Colin the after-action report Anna put together prior to disappearing in Las Vegas.  Sean thought it would be a good idea for Colin to see it before he arrived. The report had been an eye opener for Colin, and had helped him to put together some of the pieces of his relationship with Aziz that previously did not seem to fit. What had appeared as senility over the years, now looked to be a carefully choreographed plan to throw anyone with any curiosity off the trail.

Sean showed Colin
that he had been duped by the old man for ten plus years. What appeared to Colin over the years as a mutual give-and-take of information was actually a one-way street. The old man had been hiding information, and most likely had someone murder Quasim in order to keep the trail cold. Sean and Colin were now trying to figure out why.

             
“What kind of games are you referring to, Aziz? The ones where Quasim’s lackeys try to kill us by blowing us up with suicidal maniacs driving TNT laden bikes?” Colin asked with brazen sarcasm.

“Are we going to go through this again
, Colin? How many times have I speak out against Quasim and others like him. I have spent my whole life trying to counter their disgusting destruction.”

             
“And Aman?” Colin asked.

“Where is this leading
, Colin? You know Aman and I have been friends for decades. I have not talked to him in many years. He has been busy with Zachariah’s career. Aman is good man. How much money he has put back to this city fighting the murderers that run through streets?” He gestured dramatically towards the outer walls, and the stark poverty that lay in the alley below them.

              “Let’s just say I’ve had a religious awakening over the last few days, Aziz. I had a friendly discussion yesterday with your friend in the Egyptian government.” Colin let the information sink in, waiting for a reaction. When the old man kept quiet he continued, “He was not happy with what you did with the information he gave you. I told him the trouble it could cause between our two governments if the truth came out. Your officials all claim to be pious observers of the Koran, but they are no different than ours. You threaten to cut off the hand that feeds them so they talk, just like ours do.” The old man was shifting uncomfortably on the floor, his head looking everywhere except at the two Americans standing above him. He took another pass on his opportunity to speak.

Colin continued in a quiet, matter of fact tone. “Aziz, he said he told you
exactly when and where Sean was flying in to Cairo. He also said no one else in the government was told about the unannounced visit. That kind of narrows the list of suspects who could have ambushed the convoy. Wouldn’t you agree?”

             
The old man continued to look around the room in furtive glances, his mind clearly attempting to make sense of the situation. After thirty seconds his head dropped in a gesture of defiance and his jaw locked tight. Blood began trickling out of his lower lip. The velvet voice of earlier was replaced with a bitter diatribe of a betrayed old man. “That bastard!” The words spat out of his mouth as quickly as he could fire them. “I knew I should have had him taken care of.”

Sean’s hand reflexively gripped his pistol tighter at the
old man’s change in tone. He injected himself into the conversation again. “Well, you missed your opportunity, and now you will have to pay the price. We know all about you, Aziz. Just make this easy on yourself and give us the final piece. What are you after? What are you and Aman up to?” Sean leaned towards him, his large frame towering over the kneeling man.

             
“You have no idea what you are up against. Aman is a great man, and his protégé will help bring about peace between Christians and Muslims for the first time in centuries.”

“Peace through killing? I know it’s your favorite modus operandi,”Sean shot back.

              “As if that is different than what you have done through the centuries?  Please do not give me any lectures. Not peace through killing, but peace on our terms. With Aman, your new President will have true believer giving him advice. They will not cave to Israel’s every plea. I just be sure that Aman gets to that place where he can help change things. I know that bitch you sent over was after dirty information on my people. If I have to kill you to prevent you from finishing her work, it does not bother me. I am too close to witnessing history. And besides, Allah will reward me.” The old man stopped abruptly, realizing he had probably spoken too much.

Colin stepped back into the conversation, “What is your relationship with Aman? Is he a member of the Brotherhood of the Caliphate?”

The old man wiped his brow and began sweating despite the coolness of the massive room.  “Does it matter? He is devout Muslim, a great man who has sacrificed his entire life by working in your godless country.”

             
“You did not answer my question. Is he a member of the Brotherhood of the Caliphate?”

“O
f course he is!” The old man spat it out in a frustrated tone. “All these men like Quasim and the rest of them, they do nothing but fight each other for the honor to be first in line to be screwed by U.S. and the Europeans.” His arms flung around as if he was about to fall off a ledge, his voice hysterical as he continued. “The Muslim Brotherhood has brought nothing but pain to its people. I have worked my whole life trying to fix problems caused by the clash of our cultures.”

              “You are claiming your own little brotherhood just wants peace?” Sean asked.

             
“Someday, yes. But hear my words. There will be one final reckoning. It will be swift and violent, but aftermath will be peace.” The bony finger wagged from side to side. The final words were said with supreme confidence.

“How did you
first meet Aman?” Colin asked the question as an afterthought. He realized that they had never discussed it before.

The old man’s face returned to serenity. He was glad to be done with the geo-political discussion.

“One of the others brought him into Brotherhood.  Sometime in the 1950s. We became very close over the years. We shared passion for horses. In the early years he was always coming back to Egypt looking for stallions he could run in the States. I trained them for him.”

“You trained his horses here, or in the
U.S.?” Colin asked.