True Navy Blue: SEAL Brotherhood, True Blue SEALs Series Premiere (10 page)

An hour later, they were still entangled together on the bed, hot sweat now dried. A cool breeze drifted from the living room door left open.

‡

H
assan shaved off
most of his hair, but not his chin hair. The face that stared back at him from the cracked mirror did not look like the face on his passport. His parents even would not recognize him. If he were a woman, he could use makeup and trace his eyes, change their shape and wear something to color his lips. But this would have to do for now.

He’d hoped to receive confirmation a gift would be waiting for his parents in Aden, but nothing had come. He’d tried several numbers given to him, but no one was answering.

The news reports listed his younger brother’s picture which was undoubtedly going to lead to him, since the two shared a flat in East Oakland. He doubted the baker where they worked would reveal much, if anything. Besides, all of his contacts happened at the coffee house, not at his place of employment.

He’d cleaned up at the bus terminal, washing his hands and face in the restroom filled with sleepers. The place was not a stranger to bloody handprints either. He wetted down his hair and put up his hoodie, making it over to the home of his friend, where he told him a fake story about how he’d been robbed and needed a place to crash for the night. He knew his friend worked late nights at a restaurant, so when he went to work, Hassan went on a search of things he could take with him. That’s when he discovered the clippers.

His friend didn’t have anything in his kitchen, except for a few pickled grains he could take. He knew he couldn’t trust the man. He didn’t own a television, but that wouldn’t stop him from seeing Hassan’s face plastered on TVs all over the city. He knew the ferries and busses had cameras, as well as some of the busy street corners. He was better off staying off the street until he could properly disguise himself.

Hassan’s cell rang. After their customary greeting the voice was terse and angry.

“You dimwit.”

“Did the money get sent?”

“No. You haven’t finished the job.”

“Sorry? The statement was made.”

“Yes. But you were seen. You’ll be caught.”

“No. I will take my own life first. First I want to be sure my parents got the money.”

“You must not be caught.”

“I vow I will not be caught alive. What must I do?”

“You have to eliminate the woman who saw you.”

“How do I do this?”

“You remember where you saw her. The newspaper says she worked at one of the building near the Ferry Terminal. You know it?”

“I—I don’t remember very well. I could retrace my steps. But wouldn’t that be risky? And the door was locked. How would I get inside the door of her office?”

“Not my problem, Hassan.”

“But we have sacrificed our brother already, please.”

“I’m telling you it isn’t good enough. You have to make it look like they can’t get away. It’s the statement. You find her, you take care of it. You both go with God.”

Hassan’s stomach clenched. He knew he had to leave soon. Morning would bring his friend back home, and it would be too dangerous to trust him.

“You still have the devices?”

“Yes, I have three of them left.”

“Good. So you find a way inside that building, you find her. I will make arrangements for the money transfer.”

“But how will I know?”

“How do I know you’ll do your duty?”

Hassan wanted to protest, but he knew it was a losing argument.

“You make a statement. If you get the girl, your parents get the money. No other way, Hassan. Either way, you’ll be looking down from Paradise. You’ll be in the garden, my friend.”

After he hung up, he checked his canvas bag. The three little IEDs were tightly wrapped in plastic, then put into boxes with bubble wrap to make sure they didn’t detonate before he wanted them to. He’d hold one, clutching the bag, and holding the woman by the hair, and he’d send them all away. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind. It was going to be the only thing he thought about. No reason to store up provisions, food or things to seek comfort. All this would be over in a day, maybe less. He’d have his reward, and the things of this earth—all the anger and the pain, the despair of his life—would be gone forever. It was a fair tradeoff.

‡

Z
ak woke up
all of a sudden and wasn’t quite sure where he was. Then he remembered their long lovemaking. He felt her warm body against him, felt the sheets tangled around his legs. Her light brown hair was all over the pillow next to him as he cradled her into his chest. How he wished he could just stay inside all day and play, stay in her arms, love her over and over again.

His forefinger rubbed along the arch of her ear, and he felt her squeeze his arm as she came to with a smile. She rolled over to face him.

“Hi,” she said, looking all pink and radiant and more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. He knew a lot of things had changed, and he was seeing her colored in the light coming from his own eyes, a light that cast a rosy shadow over her and everything she was right now. This wasn’t something that had ever happened to him before. He knew that he would protect her if it was the last thing he ever did.

“Amy, we have to make a plan.”

“Okay, sailor. First you kiss me here,” she said as she pointed to her bare right breast.

“Gladly. I intend to do much more than that, but I mean a plan about this guy, the shooter and what the police are working on.”

She sat up and covered her chest with the sheet. Zak fingered the sheet down until she was sitting topless. “I like it better this way.”

She leaned over and removed the sheet from his thigh and rear. “And I like it better that way.”

He whipped the sheet off both of them, grabbed her and pulled her down onto the mattress again. So much for talking about a plan. Time to execute something important, something he didn’t have to think about first.

Amy heated up
some soup and made a small salad.

“You hear from your building owner yet, Amy?” Zak asked.

“No. I don’t think they’ll be in until tomorrow, but it’s odd. I mean, aren’t they contacted when something like this happens? Wouldn’t they have precautions? I just feel like I have no guidance.

“Maybe call security?” he asked.

Zak overheard Amy’s conversation with the guys at the front desk. None of them had been contacted further by the police, but they’d been pestered by news media, and several camera crews had been rushed out from the lobby after sneaking to talk to residents going and coming.

“So can’t you guys get them to leave? Do they have the right to just barge in here? This is private property.”

She listened further.

“Well, give the police a call, then. I think the safety of the residents is primary. And what about the owners? Any word from them?”

She shrugged, indicating to Zak the owners hadn’t made contact yet.

“Who are these people?” Zak asked after she’d hung up.

“I thought they were local people, but I guess not. Overseas investors, I’m thinking. The MegaOne Group is a California corporation, but that doesn’t mean all the owners live here.”

“So what else did the guards have to say? Is there some protocol in place now, with all this going on? They have to have an emergency plan. It’s law.”

“I guess it depends on what you call an emergency.”

“So how would someone sneak into the building if they wanted to?” Zak could see the suggestion was unsettling to her. “Where could you go that’s safe, Amy?”

“I have no idea. My place would be safe.”

“What if they knew where you lived?”

“How would he—you’re not really thinking he’d come here, are you?”

“Well, let’s think about it. You’re living in the middle of several blocks of people who work, live and play all around you. Lots of strangers. Lots of places to hide.”

“But he’d have to know what apartment I lived in. That’s not posted anywhere.”

“Who would know?”

“The guards. They wouldn’t let anyone who didn’t live here—”

Zak tilted his head to the left. “The guards? How effective do you think they’d be against terrorists? Tell me honestly, do they look like they have any military training, Amy? Honestly?”

“Well, no.”

“Exactly. So what do you think?”

“It’s a big assumption. You assume he’d go to the trouble to find me, where I live. I just don’t think the world works that way. Maybe in the movies. But in real life? Do you honestly think he’d be stupid enough to come back here, knowing I could recognize him?”

“We’re not talking about fantasyland, Amy. This is the real world. So humor me, where would you go if you couldn’t come here?”

“There’s a theater. A public kitchen. Some conference rooms.”

“Okay, the kitchen would have knives and things. Good. A conference room?”

Zak shook his head. “No. You ever try to beat someone up with a wastebasket or a phone?”

“I’m not trying to beat someone up. Besides, I’ll have you here.”

“You own a gun?”

“Fuck no.”

Zak was actually sorry she didn’t.

“Illegal in San Francisco.”

“Which is why the shooting happened here, my guess.”

“Did you bring one, Zak?”

“No. I left all that behind. Not sure that was so smart.”

Amy took their dishes to the sink. She turned around. “I guess the gym on the ninth floor, just below us, would be safe. He’d need a key card to get in.” She showed him the ring with her two key cards on it. “I keep one here at all times, the other one goes with me everywhere.”

“So he’d steal one.”

“The gym has some places to hide, maybe. Some hand weights and equipment, maybe. Ropes. What do you think?”

Zak stood up and gave her a hug. “That’s my girl.”

The security desk called and asked Amy to come down to pick up a form the owners had faxed into the guard station and wanted her to fill out. At about the same time, Zak got a call on his cell from San Diego. He began updating his liaison on the situation and confirming he arrived safely as Amy grabbed her card and held her finger up.

“Wait, I’ll go with you,” said Zak as he cradled the phone.

“No. We have no reception in the elevators. I’ll be right back.”

Amy was out the door before he had time to protest. He finished his call and sat back. He knew he’d just screwed up letting her leave.

‡

A
my hadn’t even
bothered to put her shoes on. She was running down the hallway in the flip-flops she kept by the front door. She almost turned around to go back to the apartment, but changed her mind as the elevator doors opened.

She flipped the key card back and forth in her palm. The conversation with Zak was troubling, but she knew why he wanted to have it. His brief time in the military made him wary of all sorts of dangerous situations. That was a good thing. One couldn’t be too careful, she thought.

Zak’s being present had a levitating mood on her spirit. She was sure he was as into her as she was into him. This morning and early afternoon had opened up a new phase in their relationship, something she wanted to explore fully. Sure, the passion and the fire was still there, but now there was something else. Something—