The Observer (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 3) (26 page)

But Robert Sterling Johnson had too many ideas. Good ideas, some great. They sat, boiling in his brilliant mind until they were reduced to reminding scars on his soul. Idea after idea was put over the flames of expectation. Idea after idea steamed away into a silent reduction of disappointment. But the boat was, as his father-in-law suggested, a good place to be. His simmering ideas that flew in the face of the establishment were quickly identified by their rising steam. A gentle reminder was all it took for the idea to be moved into a quiet, fully private space.

“Your ideas will have their time,” he was reminded. “This ain’t your time.”

There was one idea, however. Not his. Certainly not his. This idea was much too grand for even his brilliant mind to have given birth to. The purpose of the idea didn’t matter, nor did the desired result or the consequences. All that mattered was the shift in power that he was assured.

“People are sheep in your country. They want to be taken care of and protected. Do you not agree?”

“I hold out a bit more hope for my fellow citizens than that.”

“Are you able to temper your hope until a time when your strengths and talents will be sought out?”

“I am.”

“This is what we require and what we will return.”

The plan was masterful. By the time he was offered a seat in their boat, the plan was near its completion. All he needed was to ensure a few minor details. Arrange some meetings, drop some subtle reminders and, only if needed, clean up some unintended and unscheduled messes. Henderson was an unintended mess that only he could clean.

He forced the memories of hearing the shot and Henderson’s body collapsing to the floor as he drove away from the city. He pushed those useless memories back, letting them boil themselves down. A report of steam needed to be well guarded against. The memories needed to be pushed very, very far back.

“Tareef, are you prepared for your speech? You take the floor at 5:30 and we are running a packed evening agenda. You go first, followed by the Director of the Climate Change subcommittee. We break for dinner, then we have a full schedule of speakers through ten.”

“I am quite ready,” Tareef answered. “I still have 15 minutes, correct?”

“Try to keep it under 12. I know it’s nit-picky, but every minute saved is a minute gained. Can you do 12 minutes?”

Tareef paused, crushing the smile that had intentions of being displayed. He was dealing with fools that utterly misunderstood the truths he was prepared to demonstrate. Fools that, with open arms, welcomed him into their fold and paved his way with golden intentions. “I can. I am afraid to say, however, that I must take my leave the second my speech is completed. I’ve arranged a driver to pick me up and bring me to the airport. May I be so bold as to request an escort to ensure that I arrive at the airport in time?”

“Certainly. Not an issue at all. Have your driver check in with my associate to arrange the timing and route.”

“Thank you.”

“Where are you off to, if I may ask?”

“I’m afraid I must return to Iraq. I’ve been hearing of some grumblings that need to be dealt with. You understand how it is. Hold a people down too long and eventually their appetites need more to be satisfied.”

“Those we serve are both our privilege and our burdens. Yes, you will make your flight. I will see to that.”

***I***

Derek arrived at the Green Dolphin at 4:35. As he sat at the bar, sipping a tonic water and lime, his eyes were fixed towards the small window beside the front door and towards the street outside. Nikkie was sitting in a coffee shop, across the street and a hundred yards to the west of the Green Dolphin. Both kept their cell phones in their hands, with each other’s cell numbers a long press away.

Derek hadn’t seen Juan, though he knew that Juan had seen him. He expected that Juan was pissed that Derek decided to wait for Aahill inside the target location. Derek knew if Aahill approached from the west and if Nikkie wasn’t able to mark him and give notice, that, should Aahill not hesitate and walk directly into the restaurant,
 
he would be forced to use the Glock tucked into his waistband. He agreed and accepted that killing Aahill may be the only course of action, yet Derek hoped that a bullet wouldn’t be needed.

“You waiting on someone?” the barkeep asked.

Wanting to appear calm, Derek said, “Supposed to be meeting a woman here around 5. Only seen her picture on one of those Internet dating sites, so a little nervous about what she looks like in person.”

“Tell you what, you see her walk in and if you’re not impressed, I’ll cover for you.”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

When his iPhone vibrated, Derek’s stomach dropped, putting a potentially embarrassing amount of pressure on his stressed bladder.
 

“All quiet on the western front,” Nikkie said. “You sure it’s a good idea to be inside the place
 
a bomber is planning to detonate?”

“Let me guess, you told Crown my idea and she’s worried about losing her job if I don’t make it out of this alive?”

“That wasn’t her first reaction, but it did come up in conversation.”

“Her concern for me is touching.”

“Seriously,” Nikkie said. “Couldn’t you be just as effective if you waited outside? There’s a tech store right across the restaurant. You could hang out there till we spot Aahill.”

“Me in a tech shop? Crown would love to see that. No, if Aahill gets into this restaurant and I’m not in here to stop him…”

“Okay. You have a clean shot from where you’re sitting?”

“Fifteen yards of poorly lit openness. If it comes to that, I’ll hit my mark. Any sign of Juan?”

“Thought I saw him once but it probably wasn’t him. Hey,” Nikkie said, “some people in this coffee shop are talking about some activity over at the other tavern. Sounds like the boys in blue aren’t keeping such a low profile.”

“That’s strange. Figured they’d make every effort to not be noticed. Last thing they want is to scare Aahill away.”

“Or maybe they want to scare him off, get his tail and put him down while he’s running scared.”

“That doesn’t make sense. According to Connor, that whole area is covered. That’s where they want Aahill to be. It’s a controlled area. I’m getting a weird feeling.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Derek said. “Like maybe Juan is more right about a cover-up than I gave him credit for. Like someone in the FBI is making sure that the public sees them doing everything they could be doing to avoid blame if Aahill is successful. Like maybe someone knows a hell of a lot more about what’s really about to happen and is ready to let it happen.”

“Didn’t Juan tell you that someone high up in the agency was probably aware of what’s really going on and was intent on letting this whole thing happen?’

“Juan said a lot of things, most of which have ended up playing out. I still don’t know if I can trust him, though. I mean, the FBI and NYPD are six blocks away. You and I are casing out this place and Juan is who knows where. What if this whole thing is about to go down in neither place? What if Juan really is behind this whole thing?”

“He wouldn’t have called you today and told you about this restaurant. He would have let the FBI and NYPD fool themselves into thinking they got the location right and would have never suggested a different location. I never met the guy, but from what you’ve told me, he knows what’s going on and is desperate to stop it.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“What other choice do we have but to trust him at this point?”

“Nikkie,” Derek said after a short pause. “If you see Aahill and can take him out, will you?”

“If I see that he’s wearing a vest, damn straight I’ll take him out. You wouldn’t, would you?”

“I don’t know, honestly. Something tells me that he has no idea what he’s really about to do.”

“Agreed, but the people who are sending him here, do. Aahill is their puppet.”

“If Juan is right, and if Aahill is wearing a vest that will be remotely detonated, then there will have to be someone watching him. An observer.”

“Probably. What’s your point?”

“Listen, I don’t know how much time we have left, but the second you see Aahill, let me know then start looking for someone observing him. Take that guy out. Leave Aahill to me. Okay?”

“You’re the boss.”

“Take out the observer, and Kevin will be as harmless as I believe he really is.”

***I***

The members began to noisily assemble in the great hall. Shaking hands, congratulating one another and passing out tailor-scripted compliments. The evening’s program was scheduled to begin with a brief welcome by the UN Ambassador from France, followed by a 15-minute speech from Tareef Omar, a man known by everyone and who was owed too many favors to not receive the assembly’s full attention.

As the audience shuffled to their seats, still desperate to extend a few more smiles and handshakes to those most deserving, Tareef took his place off to the right of the stage. He reviewed his speech one last time and, when satisfied that each word was committed to memory, carefully folded the three page speech and tucked the pages into the breast pocket of his jacket.

His driver had told him that all the arrangements had been made before he handed him the cell phone that would be used to make one call before being disposed of.

“All is ready?” he asked his driver.

“Just as planned. Good luck with your speech.”

The appropriate applause spread swiftly across the hall as the French Ambassador strolled onto the stage.

“Aahill. It’s time for us to leave. Are you feeling well?”

“I feel okay, Rehan. A little sleepy still. But I’m okay.”

“Excellent then. Let me assist you with your vest. Allah has shown you favor with this cool weather. You’ll be able to wear a jacket over the vest as well.”

“This is my before vest?” Aahill asked as the vest’s straps were secured around his chest and waist.

“C4 vest, Aahill. You are certainly blessed with humor. Certainly blessed.”

***I***

Juan watched Derek as he walked into the Green Dolphin. At first, Juan was angry. He wanted Derek to stay outside and to position himself for an immediate shot. But then, as the minutes passed, Juan began to think that inside was a better position.
 

“As soon as Aahill opens the door, he can take the shot. That is if I can’t take the bastard out before.”

Time dragged. As much as Juan hoped that the time would never arrive, he knew that it would. Better to have it arrive quickly so that the threat could be ended.

Juan was standing outside, leaning against the darkened glass of a UPS Store, almost exactly 50 yards from the Green Dolphin. Ten yards behind him was the street corner he expected to see Aahill approaching from. He had no plans of delaying his shots. If he sees Aahill, he kills Aahill. No questions. No other attempts. No remorse.

Bang, bang, bang!

***I***

“You drive rather well, Aahill. And I thought that you were nervous about driving this large car.”

“I got all that practice the last couple of days. I feel pretty good about it now.”

“Excellent. Shall we review one last time before you pull over and let me out?”

“I park right across the street from the Green Dolphin. I put my cell phone on the seat next to me. I wait for Badr to call me. Then, I open the door, walk to the back of the car, open the heavy suitcase and take out the black bag.”

“Being careful of its contents, right?”

“I know, I know. There’s glass and water inside.”

“Yes. Then what?”

“I walk into the Green Dolphin. I walk about ten steps inside. Put the black bag on the ground, carefully, then make my announcement.”

“Excellent.”

“Do I leave the black bag in the Green Dolphin after I make the announcement? We never went over what I do after I make the announcement.”

“That is an excellent question, Aahill. An excellent question. I suppose it is best to take it with you. It will have more effect on those inside the restaurant if you take it with you. Here, then, Aahill. Here is the corner. Pull over and let me out. Your space will be open by the time you arrive in front of the location. Allah be praised. Your name is about to be written alongside the great men of history.”

“Will I pick you up here when I’m done?”

“Yes, Aahill. I will be waiting for you here.”

Rehan stood at the corner and watched Aahill turn right. He pulled out his cell phone, dialed a number from memory.

“Aahill is approaching,” he said to the man who answered his call. “Pull out of the parking spot now and go visit Badr.”

“Aahill has the cell phone with him, yes?”

“I made sure he placed it on the seat beside him when I got out of the car. The cell is ready but he will be expecting to hear from Badr.”

“And he will. It will be the last call Badr makes. And where will I find you after Aahill completes his mission?”

“At the warehouse. I’ll make my way by foot. It will take an hour or so.”

“Our travel arrangements have all been made. By this evening, we will be with Tareef, celebrating the beginning of great things.”

“I will see you soon, my trusted friend.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, member nations and observers, distinguished guests and friends, today marks an entrance. A new beginning, like the thousands of days before, yet unique in the method of disclosure. Here, assembled in this great hall, have gathered representatives of nations that have, for reasons as varied as our names and our thoughts, been granted a status that distinguishes them from all others. In this great hall, that uniqueness is praised, recognized and, at times, celebrated. But not all are noticed or recognized in a manner deserving and fitting to their just deserves. There are some gathered here among us for whom the rightful, ordained and justified designation has yet to be granted.

“For some, it is a matter of time. Patience, diligence and a steadfast attitude will, we tell ourselves, be rewarded. For others, there is no time left to wait for the myriad of perfectly aligned thoughts and beliefs to arrive at an agreeable consensus. For those others, patience is not a reward but a slipping punishment; one handed out through closed-door meetings, mutually beneficial agreements and tempered praises. It is a punishment of promises that the others can either choose to fool themselves into believing their legitimacy or use a mighty fuel.