Monster (34 page)

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Authors: Bernard L. DeLeo

BOOK: Monster
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“Do you mind if I stay out at the edge of the parking lot while you check?”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Kay?”

“I have had enough excitement for today, my friend. Today was too much like home.” Rasheed followed McDaniels toward where Tomashevsky had parked his vehicle. “I am again ready to gather information for the time being and leave adventuring to the famous Cold Mountain.”

McDaniels laughed. “Hey, you saved our team today, Kay. I don’t think they’ll let you retire to the computer screen once the Russian gives up some leads. We may…”

McDaniels’ cell-phone vibrated. “McDaniels.”

“Did you check out the Russian’s car yet, Cold?”

“No, Red, we just finished the funeral service. Kay wants to know if you’ll give us a letter of recommendation to the local funeral home.”

“You bet. Anyhow, we haven’t been able to shut the Russian up. Go home after you take out whatever’s hot and make sure nothings left behind for some CSI team to find. I thought it might be better to just leave the Russian’s car.”

“That’s why you’re in charge, Red,” McDaniels said by way of agreement. “Kay will be happy to hear he can go home. Want to pick me up over at his house? I imagine you’ll be late.”

“I’ll be late,” Reskova confirmed. “I still have to report to Dreyer. I wanted to find out a few things before I went to see him.”

“I thought you’d be giving this directly to Aginson, Red. I don’t know that having another guy knowing about all this is smart, or safe.”

“Aginson said Dreyer’s in all the way now. I already talked to him because I didn’t know how to proceed with your extracurricular activities. I put Langley on alert for what you find. Do you have something to write with?”

“Go ahead,” McDaniels answered, taking out a notepad and pen.

Reskova gave him instructions on how to proceed with the drop off of Tomashevsky’s trunk contents. “I’ll see you at Kay’s later. I’m bringing him a bottle of Jack for saving our necks today.”

“He’ll be pleased. Just keep it out of sight until Ansa’s not looking.”

“Will do. See you later.”

“Bye.” McDaniels noticed the sullen look he was getting from Rasheed. “What’s with you?”

“You told the boss I am afraid of my wife.”

“And you would rather I lied, huh?”

“That is not amusing. Your day will come, Mr. Mountain. I will make sure I am present for the event. Soon you will be Mr. Reskova.”

“I’ll keep you informed so you don’t miss my humiliation,” McDaniels promised, laughing at Rasheed’s verbal send up of his perceived relationship change.

“What do you plan to do with the explosives you find?”

“The Boss said leave the car and take hers. I will confiscate some of what we find for insurance. We’ll turn in the rest.”

“Ah, and tell her we only found what you decide appropriate for turning in?” Rasheed said knowingly. “What adventure would you need these contraband explosives for, Mr. Mountain? She will be asking you what you did with them.”

“Yeah, but will she confirm what I tell her with the Russian?”

“Probably not. You really do have a wish to spend the rest of your life in prison. If the explosives become unstable many innocent people could die.”

McDaniels turned angrily toward Rasheed but continued on when he saw Rasheed’s grin in the fading light. “Very funny, Kay. Anyway, I have just the spot to stash them. We’ll stop there before we go to your house.”

“Did the Boss give you a place we can drop the rest of the items at?”

“Over at Langley. They’re on alert for us and they will be discreet.”

“Meaning no sirens, special forces arresting agents, or incarceration?”

“Kay, let’s take the rest of this walk in silence.”

“As you wish, Mr. Reskova.”

Fifteen minutes later, the two men were next to Tomashevsky’s car. McDaniels pulled a telescoping, self-lighting mirror from his equipment bag and began inspecting the undercarriage for any sign of tampering. Rasheed checked for fresh footprints or any indication someone had stopped near the car since the Russian had parked it earlier in the day.

McDaniels went to the trunk finally and inserted the appropriate key. Rasheed stepped away.

“Are you sure we cannot leave the car for the bomb squad?” Rasheed asked.

McDaniels popped the trunk with his free hand holding it down so it would not open.

“Hold this trunk lid right here you big girl.”

“What will little Cold do if he is raised without a Father?”

“How many damn cars and trucks did we check over in Iraq together? Come on, and show me little Cold has a Father and not another sister,” McDaniels needled him.

“Exactly my point.” Rasheed walk over and held the trunk lid firmly in the position McDaniels indicated. “We have already used up a lifetime of good fortune.”

McDaniels first swept a beam from his small Maglite flashlight all along the small opening. He then slipped his telescoping mirror in to make sure of the hidden spots near the hinges and fender wells. He stood up minutes later and gently nudged Rasheed back from the car while he took over holding the trunk lid. Allowing the lid to open slowly, McDaniels peered into the open trunk with his flashlight. Rasheed breathed a sigh of relief as the lid came to its fully open position.

“I am too old for this… Allah spare your humble servant,” Rasheed whispered, staring at the contents of the trunk.

Inside the huge Lincoln Towncar trunk were an assortment of automatic weapons and two shoulder-fire surface to air missile launchers. McDaniels carefully pulled the weapons from the trunk while Rasheed looked around the area for unwanted attention. In a false bottom beneath the weapons lay an armored box, rectangular and shallow of depth. McDaniels opened the clasps holding the box cover sealed in place. He slowly raised the armored lid. Inside the casing were packages marked clearly as US military explosives. McDaniels closed and latched the box.

“We’ll have a hell of a time getting all this shit into the Boss’s car. You want to go get it, Kay?”

Rasheed nodded, hurrying toward Reskova’s car.

“I hope we do not get stopped,” Rasheed called out over his shoulder. “It will not be like that
Cops
show. They will surely shoot us first and check our identities later.”

“They’ll shoot you first, Kay. They’ll be able to discern who is the terrorist and who is not. I will be sure to clear your good name once the shooting dies down though.”

“Oh thank you, Boss’s suckup.” Rasheed waved his hand.

* * *

Suraya opened the door to the Rasheed home. An exhausted looking Reskova smiled and gave her a little wave from the entrance.

“Hello, Suraya,” Reskova greeted her. “Are my two employees inside?”

“Yes, Diane.” Suraya smiled back, gesturing Reskova inside and closing the door. “They are taking turns bouncing around the little Cold in the living room. My Mother has retired for the evening. She said to apologize for not being able to wait up for you. Little Cold has been reluctant to rest tonight. He usually is asleep by ten o’clock.”

Reskova glanced at her watch. “Well, it’s only ten-thirty so he’s not too late. Who gets up with him at night?”

“No one has been able to beat my Mother to the child at night yet,” Suraya informed her. “My Father believes she can hear the child open his eyes.”

“I guess it’s all working out good for everyone.” Reskova walked into the living room where Rasheed and McDaniels were seated on the couch.

McDaniels looked up from where he was giving the pajama clad baby a ride on his knee while Rasheed made faces at him as the child laughed. “Hi, Boss.”

“Langley called and said you had quite a delivery,” Reskova moved aside, allowing Suraya to take the baby.

“I will feed little Cold in his bedroom and see if I can rock him to sleep.”

“Thank you, Suraya.” Rasheed gave the baby a kiss on the head and tickled him. “Behave yourself for your big sister, wild one.”

Reskova handed Rasheed the paper-bagged bottle of Jack Daniels. “Thanks again, Kay, you were really sharp today. We owe you our lives.”

Rasheed took the gift, standing up and gesturing to McDaniels. “I accept your thanks but such is not necessary on the battlefield. Nightcap, my friends?”

“Sure,” McDaniels agreed.

“Just a taste, Kay, thanks.”

Rasheed went into the kitchen. He returned with three small glasses on a tray. He opened the bottle and carefully poured the drinks in the requested amounts. Handing the glasses to McDaniels and Reskova, Rasheed touched his to theirs in a toast.

“To America,” Rasheed declared quietly.

“America,” McDaniels and Reskova echoed, sipping their drinks.

“We will need to talk with our Russian friend again about some gaps in his storytelling. Dreyer was more than a little upset about what you guys turned in. He knows we’re behind the curve again.”

“Those weapons were not meant for some criminal endeavor, Boss. How did Tom and Jen take to their close call?”

“They acted more shook up over my treatment of Tomashevsky. I have to start getting more hardened. What did I expect - the Russian would just lie down and start betraying the small army he had as backup?”

“Your actions were perfectly understandable,” Rasheed replied.

“Too many people think no one reacts out of character in a combat situation,” McDaniels added. “The media think they can follow front line soldiers around with camcorders and expect they will never see a soldier react violently toward a deadly enemy. You acted with great restraint, Red. Don’t ever think otherwise. Besides, the Russian will never surface to be interviewed by Al Queda’s newspaper: the New York Times, or the American media arm of Al Jazeera: CNN.”

“I know. I’ll still do better. Today kicked the crap out of all the naïve nonsense floating around in my head. You’d think after trailing that monster Hughes around for years, some of his psyche would have rubbed off on me.”

“Hughes was a good head taking, my friend,” Rasheed toasted McDaniels.

“Thanks. I think the Boss here could have taken a head today by the sound of it.”

“I’m not that far down trail yet, Cold,” Reskova replied, standing up. “We have an early day tomorrow. Thanks again, Kay.”

“It was nothing.” Rasheed took his guests’ glasses. “I will see you both tomorrow.

“Don’t forget to hide the Jack, Kay,” McDaniels advised as he and Reskova walked toward the door.

“Yes, Mr. Reskova,” Rasheed acquiesced to Reskova’s surprised amusement.

In Reskova’s car on the way to her apartment she reached over and clasped McDaniels’ hand while still watching her driving. “What was that about, Mr. Reskova?”

“Kay was just yanking my chain. He was still sore about the grave digging.”

“Were you two like this in Iraq too?”

“Worse. He would come up with something new to rag me about every other day. That’s why I made him my second in command. He was the only one who wasn’t afraid of me, or anything else. Only the safety of Ansa and Suraya could make Kay worry.”

“I like the ring of Mr. Reskova.” Reskova squeezed McDaniels’ hand.

“You would.”

“Maybe we could play Mistress of the house and Mr. Reskova.”

McDaniels laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t think so but you can try it. Mistress might have to receive a lesson in humility.”

“I’m still wound up over today. How do you do what you do and then go over to Kay’s, play with the baby, and now joke around with me?”

“I’m a cold-blooded psycho, remember?”

“C’mon, Cold, I’m serious,” Reskova coaxed.

“I’ve always been able to separate the good from the bad. Two wars and numerous engagements in between have given me plenty of time to practice. With as little action as you’ve seen in the field, Red, you’re as cool under fire as anyone could hope for. Naturally you’re not going to be able to simply go home and turn off a day like today as if you had an on/off switch. That’s why you’re bringing me home. I’ll make you forget today, Mistress.”

“Promise?”

“Oh yeah. I’ll put on Bocelli’s
Romanza
CD and give you a complete body massage with warm baby oil.”

“We’ll never make it through the massage.”

“Mistress underestimates Mr. Reskova,” McDaniels joked.

“Not hardly.”

Chapter 25

Tomashevsky

 

McDaniels was making coffee when Barrington, Rutledge and Rasheed walked into the office together. “You three synchronize your watches or something?”

“We decided to car pool since we’re within ten minutes of each other,” Rutledge answered, as her companions waved at McDaniels by way of greeting. “Where’s Diane?”

“Meeting with Dreyer again to see what he wants to do about questioning Tomashevsky concerning the stuff Kay and I found in his trunk.” McDaniels poked Rasheed when he distorted his nose at the smell of the coffee. “Considering the complications over his detention, it’s a good thing CIA is holding him incommunicado.”

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