Fortunes Obsession (3 page)

     Ali had made some lewd remarks in reference to Dara while speaking to Fahd.  Fahd hated to think of his beautiful Dara defiled by this filthy terrorist but on the other hand, if push came to shove, he would not let it stand in the way of consummating his deal.  Ali would get back to him but at this time it looked like the documents would bring at least a million.  After what he paid Collins, this would be a cool profit of eight hundred thousand dollars.

     His silk business was set up so that to all concerned, including his secretary, the business looked legitimate. Bills and invoices were generated at other locations and filtered into his office.  The secretary, a heavy set, grey haired woman in her late sixties, kept meticulous books and fielded phone calls for him. Every transaction he made used the silk company as a cover.  There were even books of silk samples in the office and a fictitious warehouse, the phone number of which was his driver's home phone.

     His driver, Mustafa, was another person who was totally owned by him.  Mustafa had relatives in Iran that were at the least, political subversives.  One phone call from Fahd to the right people could mean their lives.  In addition, Mustafa lived in a manner unlike anything in his expectations, for which he was eternally grateful to Ibrahim Fahd.

     Fahd sat at his desk and planned the completion of this operation.  Until a deal was made, he would keep the documents in a safe in his apartment.  His alarm system was very sophisticated

and the safe had always been his most secure hiding place.

 He had no desire to be in any part of the terrorism that would evolve from this operation.  He had no special passion for any of the groups and no compassion for the opposing side.  His feelings for all were related strictly to the remuneration received for his service.  He felt the same way about those in his coterie.

If he had to, he would gladly sacrifice Dara or Mustafa in a minute if the price was right.  Dara was a fantastic sexual toy but that's all she was to him.  He had long ago learned that one could buy the love of fantastically beautiful and willing women at any time.  Yes, Dara, beautiful though she was, could be replaced.  If Mustafa had to be eliminated, so be it.  He could see that through with no remorse.  His only deep feeling was for money and all that it could buy.

     The transfer of the documents and the exchange of money would be done by Dara or Mustafa.  Fahd also rarely got involved personally.  The exchange of briefcases with Collins was a rare occurrence for him but Collins had seemed so nervous in their negotiations, that he thought better of sending one of his underlings.

     At ten thirty, Dara called.

     " Mission accomplished, honey but I had to fight off your friend, I think one of my cheeks is black and blue."

     Fahd laughed, " I would love your ass if it were green, my love.

You did a great job.  Don't worry about Ali, I won't make you fuck him unless it is important to my deal"

   He heard the silence on the other end of the phone and knew

what she was thinking.  He also knew that he had great power over her and that she could not refuse him anything.

     Dara finally made light of his last remark and he told her that his driver would pick her up at seven and that they would have dinner at La Cote Basque.

     He spent the next hour dictating letters to his secretary, who stamped them on the postage meter and gave them to Fahd, who put them in his briefcase.  This was always the routine, because ostensibly, he passed a post office on his way home.  Actually, he threw the letters in a trash can.

                    *************************

     Peter walked into his office and gave a cheery good morning to the receptionist.  As was his habit, he started the day by visiting with the senior partner, Lance Corning,  who after having various health problems put Peter into the number two slot in the organization.  Corning arrived every morning at seven o clock and departed at one.  Peter was actually the de facto head of Lance Corning associates and supervised forty employees.  Corning and Peter, over coffee and rolls, discussed the business each morning. One of the things they were very much into at this time was rehabilitation work on some of the destroyed areas of the WorldTradeCenter.  As soon as they discussed that work, it brought to mind the events of Sunday.  He just couldn't get the photos out of his mind.  He decided to share the information with the older man.

Corning was very interested and had the same opinion as Peter.

He was certain that something sinister was occurring and asked Peter to bring the photos in the next morning.  The whole story seemed to perk the  old man up.  He had been lethargic and depressed of late after surviving a prostate cancer operation and a mini- stroke within four months of each other.

     Peter went about the business of the day in his usual efficient and competent manner but the park bench was never far from his mind.  It was becoming his obsession

            ************************************

     Dara inspected herself naked. She stood at a full length, three section mirror and saw that her right buttock was indeed black and blue.  She got into a hot bath and tried to steam the filthiness of Ali Bokaar off of her body.  She had found Fahd's last remark disturbing.  Sex with Bokaar would nauseate her. She decided that Fahd must be kidding.  After all, he was kind to her and treated her so well, always heaping her with goodies and calling her things like, " My love".

     As she sat in the bath, she wondered how long Fahd would be enthused by her.  With his unlimited funds, he could dump her for another woman at any time.  She found herself thinking of life without him.  It wouldn't be bad, she thought, to be on her own and come out with all of her material possessions.  She might just find that Mr. Right who would make her life complete.  She knew that while she was erotically stimulated by her performances, she was really not physically attracted to Fahd.  How great it would be to have a man that she wanted for himself and not his money.

             ***************************************

Farley Collins sat at at the bar.  It was dark even though it was three o clock in the afternoon.  There was a smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke in the air and except for the bartender and Collins, the bar was empty.

     The bartender eyed Collins warily.  He hated to have blind drunks in his bar.  They either threw up all over the place or collapsed on their stools and fell to the floor with a thud.  This one was different though. The drunk had a maniacal look in his eyes that spelled trouble.  The kind of a guy that could be carrying a piece and blow the place all to hell. 

     " Fuckin Arab greaseballs", Collins muttered under his breath.

      " What the hell am I going to do with two hundred thousand dollars, anyway?"  He then fell into complete silence and stared into space.

     He was suffering a tremendous letdown after the exchange in Central Park. This was just another operation from which he was cast aside.  What good was his revenge, if he couldn't participate in whatever it was they were going to do.  He surmised that they were going to sabotage a launch or maybe blow up the whole complex.

He had skills they didn't even know about. He could be a big help.

     He wondered if the card from the silk company which he had found wedged in a compartment of the briefcase, had anything to do with this whole deal.  He had a good mind to go back to New York and look up the place.

      He looked up at the bartender through glazed eyes. " Another double Jim Beam on the rocks, my good man."

The bartender kept one hand on the pistol concealed behind the bar.

     " Don't you think you've had enough, fella.  Why don't you just go home and sleep it off."

       Farley stared him down with rage in his eyes. " Don't give me orders, buddy and don't worry about me.  I can take very good care of myself." He giggled, nearly falling off the stool. " And besides, I outrank you, don't forget that."

     The bartender shrugged his shoulders and poured.  Collins imbibed the entire glass before the bartender put the bottle back on the shelf.  With that, he slithered slowly off the stool, took two wet one dollar bills from his pocket and slapped them on the bar.

     " Hasta la vista baby", was heard loud and clear as Collins literally fell out the door.

        *********************************************

Two weeks had passed and Fahd was getting nervous.  He hadn't heard from Bokaar since the initial offer of the documents.  He knew that what he had was marketable but never offered the same deal to a second group until the first deal was dead.  He was getting to the point where he should be making other contacts in this matter.

     It was five o clock on a Monday afternoon and Dara had arrived at the office, preliminary to an early dinner and a night at the theater.  She wore a red leather suit over a white blouse with a small, tasteful brooch at the neck.  Her hose was red and set off her magnificent legs perfectly under the short skirt.

     The phone rang just as Fahd was wrapping things up for the evening.   Dara could tell that the call was important by the look on Fahd's face and by the animation of his voice as he chattered in Arabic. 

     Bokaar was on the phone and told Fahd that a meeting had been arranged at an airport hotel at DetroitMetropolitanAirport for the next morning.  It was important that Fahd get to Detroit immediately.  Fahd was pleased that things seemed to be coming to a head and was beaming as he hung up the phone.

     " My sweet, something has come up and I must fly out of town immediately."  He took the envelope with the theater tickets and a large wad of bills from his pocket. "Take a friend, enjoy yourself, I don't know exactly when I'll return.  I'm so sorry my flower. When I come back, we'll have a wonderful evening together."

     He walked over to her and obviously preoccupied, gave her

a brotherly peck on the cheek.

     She pouted as was expected of her and put her hand lightly on his shoulder.

   " Honey, I don't care about the theater.  Take me with you...please."

     " Go now", he said, " I have things to arrange and don't have time for this." He opened the door, gave her a playful pat on the rump and all but pushed her out.  She could hear the door lock behind her.

     Dara didn't really care if he was going away. She thought that among other skills acquired through this relationship, she had become a great actress.  She would always do what was expected of her, in or out of bed.

     She really had no friends to speak of.  All of her time was devoted to her job.  Her job being Ibrahim Fahd's full time mistress.  She never felt dirty or whorish.  She rationalized her situation by thinking of all the girls who fell into bed with many men for nothing but sport and found very little difference.  In fact there was something to be said for seeing only one man, who, as far as she knew, saw no one else, thereby eliminating the risk of venereal disease or worse, AIDS.

     She decided to walk to the east side and stop for cocktails and dinner at the Marriot Marquis hotel, which was just up the street from the theater.  After the theater, she would take a cab back to her apartment.  She even welcomed an evening alone. Almost every evening was spent administering to Fahd and to be by herself

was a delicious prospect.  She pushed the button on the elevator and waited for it to arrive at the thirty ninth floor.

           *****************************************

     Peter sat in his office performing calculations on a slide rule.  Even in these days of computers, he enjoyed the now antiquated instrument at times when he was contemplating changes that required quick calculations.

     There was a new addition on his wall.  In a prominent place , centrally located on the wall directly in front of his desk, was an eighteen by twenty four inch blow up of the park bench shot.  The eight adults and one child were in various stages of animation and the two men on the left each had one hand on the other's briefcase.

The photo became a conversation piece whenever anyone came into his office, especially Lance Corning.  The photo was an obsession for both of them.  People would come in and discuss all of the people in the shot, all of them interesting in their own way but the conversation would always turn to the two men with their hands on each other's case.

     Peter looked at his watch.  It was only five fifteen but he had a splitting headache from a tension ridden day.  Much later, he thought of that moment and of what hidden force made him leave the office at a time at least an hour earlier than usual.  Fate works in many ways but the building blocks that fell into place from this moment on were mind boggling.

     Peter stood at the elevator at the thirtieth floor and

patiently waited for the car to arrive.

           ********************************************

     Mustafa weaved the Mercedes limousine as deftly as possible through the Manhattan rush hour traffic.  Fahd did not have the documents with him as that was tantamount to an invitation to kill him and steal them.  He had instead, an in depth description of each drawing and specification, which had been prepared by Farley Collins prior to the exchange in the park.