The Aisha Prophecy (33 page)

THIRTY ONE 

Gilhooley was about to make a pass of the house as he’d done a few times every day. One never knows what one might see. As he approached the curve that would put it in view, he happened to glance in his rear view mirror. He spotted what looked like the Greek’s Ford Escape. It was some three streets behind him.

He slowed. It slowed. Yes, it’s probably the Greek. He looked ahead, and damn it, there’s the green Subaru just now coming out through the gate. He saw two women in it, or a woman and a girl. The blond at the wheel was definitely the one in whom Haskell has such a great interest. She turned left, away from him. He couldn’t very well follow with that little prick behind him. The Greek must be headed for that house.

Mulazim’s full attention was on this Gilhooley. He saw Gilhooley slow. Had he been seen? Perhaps not. Gilhooley’s head didn’t seem to have moved. He was looking at the road straight in front of him.

Now Mulazim saw it. The green Subaru. It suddenly appeared. It was not there before. It must have come from one of the houses nearby. Which one though? It could be one of several, all big.

He cursed Gilhooley for slowing when he did. If he hadn’t, Mulazim would have seen from which driveway it came or at least from which side of the street. Is it one of the two that have white columns in front? Is it the one brown shingles? Is it the one of brick and stone with wooden beams and a gate? He could see two… no, three that have gates. Mulazim growled within himself. There was no way to know. But at least he had narrowed his search.

The green Subaru had now turned out of sight. Gilhooley hadn’t followed. He’d turned off to the left. So, Mulazim wondered, why had he come here? He didn’t know the answer, but one thing was certain. This Gilhooley was going to be a problem for him. If the opportunity presented itself, he’d be tempted to get rid of him once and for all.

But, no, another dead man would not be good. Not so soon. So be patient. Be calm.

Gilhooley turned to see whether the Greek would follow either him or the green Subaru. The Greek had done neither. No sign of him. The next time he saw that Greek’s Ford Escape, he’d make sure that it needed a tow.

He was still on that thought when his cell phone vibrated. There was no need to see who was calling. It could only be Haskell.

He answered it, “Gilhooley.”

“New instructions,” said Haskell, “Buy a video camera. One that goes from wide angle to zoom.”

“Buy one? I got one. Right here in the truck.”

“Records audio as well? My own voice while I’m taping?”

“Records anything within fifty feet or so.”

“That should do it,” said Haskell. “How much Semtex do you have?”

“With me? Almost two kilos.”

“That’s what? Four pounds? It doesn’t sound like very much.”

Gilhooley was beginning to get a bad feeling “Not enough for Whistler’s house, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not. We’re not vandals. It’s too nice a house.”

“So that rules out swastikas sprayed on its front wall.”

“Gilhooley… are you trying to be funny?”

“Just trying to get on the same page, Mr. Haskell. If you’re thinking their cars, I’ve got plenty for that. I could rig them any time I see them parked around town.”

“No,” said Haskell, “that’s too willy-nilly. I’m thinking in terms of a gathering place. Do you have enough for that restaurant?”

“For Mangiamo? Yeah, I guess, but…”

“You’re going to blow it,” said Haskell. “Actually we are. I’m on my way there. I should be landing in D.C. around five-ish, your time. What’s it like across the street from that restaurant?”

“Just… regular commercial. One and two stories. There’s a real estate office. A law firm. A bakery.”

“Is there a place of concealment from which we could tape it?”

“Tape… what? The bar?”

“Well, yes,” said Haskell. “That’s the whole idea. Tape who shows up for this party they’re having and tape the whole building collapsing on them.”

“You want to hit a birthday party? A party for kids?”

“These are not just kids. They are enemies of Islam. That is to say they are enemies of God. Paradise awaits those who slay them.”

What is this, Gilhooley wondered? Has he gone fucking nuts?

But Haskell had expected a degree of reluctance. He said, “Okay, that God part was over the top. The main thing is that Kessler will be there. And you’ll never guess who else. Roger Clew is coming. So is a meddler named Rajib Sadik. And, best of all… are you ready for this? Harry Whistler himself will be joining them.”

Gilhooley knew about Whistler. He’d heard the bartender say it. But it’s the first he’d heard about Clew and some Arab. He asked, “Who told you this? Leland?”

“No, he didn’t. Nor would he. He’s been less than a friend. But happily we have our little birds.”

Gilhooley took that to mean he had someone at State. People in Clew’s position don’t go out for a haircut without leaving word where they can be reached.

He said, “Look… I’m on a cell phone. It isn’t secure. This might not be a private conversation.”

“Not to worry,” said Haskell. “It’s secure on my end. Our words are not floating out there in the ether. I’m assured that only gibberish could be overheard. It’s spatial harmonics. Or something like that. I leave the tech nitty-gritty to others.”

“If you say so.”

“Vantage points, Desmond. You still haven’t answered.”

“Well, let’s see. There’s not much. There are always parked cars. Not directly across though because there’s a bus stop. But the bus stop has one of those shelters with a bench. It’s maybe thirty yards down the street.”

Haskell asked, “Glass enclosed? Or is it solid?”

“Solid except for one side that’s plastic.”

“So that those waiting can see the bus coming. That might do very nicely. Meet me there at six o’clock. You will have planted the explosives in the back among those tables. I’m relying on your vaunted expertise.”

“I’ll think of something.”

“We’ll work the logistics out when I see you. Oh, one more thing. Elizabeth Stride. I’ve decided that she is to be a survivor. She’s not even to be smudged if we can help it.”

Gilhooley grunted. “I wondered why you didn’t mention her. I thought maybe she wouldn’t be there.”

“Count on it. She’ll be there. I have other plans for her. I know how we might spare her. Tell you later.”

A click.

Gilhooley stared at his now lifeless cell phone. Haskell’s actually coming? He wants this on tape? He wants to kill Whistler, Kessler and Clew, not to mention those four Muslim girls and the Arab. That’s a hell of a hit. World class. Lots of headlines. If there’s even a whisper about who’s behind it, where does Haskell think he can hide? Does he think he’s some kind of national treasure just because he supplies oil?

My “vaunted expertise,” thought Gilhooley.

Shit.

Blowing up is blowing up. It does not get selective. But Haskell wants this thing fucking choreographed so his dream girl gets out without a scratch. He has other plans for her? She might have some for him. Haskell hadn’t told him hardly anything about her, but if she hangs out with Kessler and that crowd she’s got to be more than some groupie. Could he possibly think she’ll just waltz off with him? She’ll turn him into a grease spot.

But, okay. He’ll plant the charge. He knows a good spot. He’ll meet Haskell at six with his video camera. Maybe he can get Haskell to understand the basic concept of overkill. Not to mention the concept of survival.

Failing that, okay, we blow the bar, he makes his movie. Maybe Stride survives it, maybe she doesn’t. He, Gilhooley, won’t know if she does or not because he won’t be hanging around to find out.

Once that blast goes off, he is gone.

THIRTY TWO 

Elizabeth had seen the black pickup again. It had almost seemed to be waiting down the road for her to drive out through the gates. But it hadn’t followed. It slowed, then turned off.

A tail only does that when there are at least two. The spotter, the pickup, then radios ahead for some other vehicle to take it from there. The other vehicle would then appear in her mirror unless its driver was good at the job. A good one would have pulled out a block or more in front of her, watching her while she’s watching behind her. A good one would also be a woman, quite possibly. In an unremarkable car, blue or tan. No one ever seems to look for a woman.

But there was no one. She was sure of it now. She had gone two full miles, made a number of turns, and had seen no sign of surveillance. She reached her left hand to the door’s side compartment. She felt to make sure that the weapons she kept there were unencumbered by road maps. Her Ingram Mac-10, a light machine pistol. She also fingered the hilt of her knife, a twin of the one in her purse.

Aisha didn’t know that the weapons were there. Or knew and kept silent. The former, most likely. But Aisha saw that she was driving with uncommon alertness. She asked outright, “Are we being followed?”

“No, honey. It’s me. I’m just a bit spooked. An hour ago, not a care in the world. You didn’t need this on your birthday.”

Aisha was silent for another mile or so. Elizabeth broke the ice. She said, “Shahla told me about your dream. About what your mother said to you.”

“She tells me a lot of things, Elizabeth.”

“But… you do understand that they’re only dreams?”

“I guess, but I don’t choose to think of them that way. I like feeling that’s she’s with me. That she’s watching out for me. I like wanting her to be proud of me.”

“I’m sure that she is. More than proud.”

A small smile. “You think that she would be. Not that she is. I know that you’re not buying into this, Elizabeth. I don’t think you believe that there’s anything else out there. Or are you hoping that there isn’t?”

“Better not be. I’ve run up quite a bill.”

“And you’ll be weighed in the balance and found wanting? Is that it? That won’t happen. You’re kind, Elizabeth. You’re strong, but you’re kind. You and Martin defend people who aren’t so strong. That will tip the balance, believe me.”

“We’ll see.”

“In these dreams, my mother tells me what’s already in my heart or at least at the back of my mind. But she does throw in a surprise now and then. She says there is tennis in heaven.”

“Oh, good.”

“She plays with my father in a group that they’ve formed. Do I really believe that? I do and I don’t. But it is a pretty thought, so I’m keeping it.”

Aisha said nothing for another half mile. Elizabeth wasn’t sure how to broach the other subject. She said to Aisha, “Go ahead. Ask me.”

Aisha shook her head. “I don’t need to, Elizabeth.”

“Because you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Well, you’d trust Qaila, too. So ask. Get it out of your system.”

Aisha took a breath. She said, “Okay. Let’s suppose you were Qaila.”

“Uh-huh. Let’s suppose. Would I know that?”

“Well, sure.”

“I don’t and I’m not, but let’s say I am. I’m now revealing it to you right here in this car. I’m telling you that you’re Aisha reborn. What happens right now, right this minute?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Remember the language of the prophecy,” said Elizabeth. “It says you’ll know that it’s true because a veil will be lifted. It does not mean tomorrow. It means now as I speak. Do you feel a veil being lifted?”

“A weight off my shoulders. Does that count?”

“A veil is not a weight. Besides, there’s more. Will you be reaching full womanhood today?”

“You’re my idea of full womanhood, Elizabeth.”

“Keep that thought. You’ve got twenty years to go.”

That made Aisha smile. She was starting to relax. But the smile came and went. “Would you lie to me, Elizabeth?”

“Never have. Never will.”

“Not ever? You promise?”

“There are things that I might elect not to tell you, but this, you may be sure, isn’t one of them.”

Another silence. Another few blocks. Aisha said, “When we get to Lord & Taylor, I’m going to shoplift some jewelry.”

“Say what?”

“I’ll be really bad at it, so I’ll promptly get busted. I’ll make a big scene. I’ll smash the display case. What I need is a criminal record. And a mug shot.”

“Because Aisha reborn doesn’t shoplift. I get you,” said Elizabeth. “Come to think of it, that’s not a bad plan.”

“I like it.”

“Could you wait, though,” said Elizabeth, “until we’ve actually bought things? We’ll be running tight on time as it is.”

“It depends. We won’t be shopping in Junior Miss, will we?”

“Not a chance.”

“Can I get heels?”

“They’re already on the list,” said Elizabeth. “Shiny black ones. And a black cocktail dress with spaghetti straps, bare shoulders. Would Aisha reborn be caught dead in that outfit?”

“Not a chance.”

“Well, there you have it. Case closed?”

“Case closed.”

The Landmark Mall was just coming into view.

Aisha reached a hand to Elizabeth’s arm.

She said, “I love you, Elizabeth. So does God. Or he will.”

“Ask your mother to put in a good word.”