Enemy Among Us-A Jordan Wright Thriller (14 page)

So, with the package under his arm, he went to the apartment door. It had not latched completely from whoever went through it last, so Mustafa could go right into the foyer and walk up the stairway. When he got to the top, he rapped on the door.

The knock at the door startled Aziz and Benny. Benny looked at Aziz. “I thought I closed the door tight when I came up. Sorry”

“I’m not expecting anyone.” Aziz moved toward the door. Since the downstairs door usually was latched and required a visitor to be buzzed in, the door at the top of the stairs didn’t contain a peephole. Aziz couldn’t tell who it was without opening the door.

”Who is it?” He called through the door.

“Aziz, it’s you Uncle Mustafa. I have a package for your father.”

Aziz froze. If his uncle came in, he would find his father wasn’t here. He would have already known he wasn’t in the store. If he told him he was running errands or with one of the other families he might decide to wait or call the family to see if his father were there. Aziz wasn’t sure what to do.

“Aziz?” The voice from the other side of the door inquired. “Are you going to let your uncle in?”

Aziz quickly turned back to Benny. Benny shrugged his shoulder with a “what can you do” non-verbal.

“Yes, yes.” Aziz called back and opened the door.

“I’m sorry to intrude without calling. I thought I would get here before the store closed. Oh, hello Benny. Anyway, I have this package for your father.” Mustafa had been scanning the apartment since he entered. “Is your father here?”

“No he isn’t,” Aziz hoped his Uncle would just leave the package and go.

“When will he be back? I can wait.” Mustafa noticed Benny was fixing dinner and only two plates were out. His demeanor changed. “Aziz, where is your father? Please tell me!”

Aziz hesitated and his panic showed. He didn’t want to be in trouble with his uncle and he didn’t want to get his father in trouble. He’d seen what had happened to others when they did something against Uncle Mustafa’s wishes.

“I don’t exactly know,” Aziz sputtered, looking down at his feet.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Benny, do you know where he is?”

Benny, who had always found Uncle Mustafa intimidating, quickly grunted a no.

Uncle Mustafa began to get agitated. “I need answers and I need them now. Where is Akmed? Where is your father?” His eyes moved back and forth between Aziz and Benny. Both felt the eyes boring right through them.

Aziz looked up at his Uncle. He was caught between total fear and afraid of what would happen to him. He loved his father, but his father hadn’t been there for him lately. His uncle had been. Why did he protect his father? His father hadn’t even left him a note that he would be gone. He’d learned much from his uncle and he had a great deal of respect for him.

“Uncle, I do not know where my father has gone. He was not here when I returned from my trip. He left no note.”

His uncle interrupted him by raising his hand. “Benny, I would appreciate if you would leave us. I’ll ensure Aziz has his dinner. We have a family issue we must discuss and it would not be appropriate for you to continue to be here.”

Benny quickly left, his body showing his relief in being able to leave.

“Please, Aziz, let us sit and you can tell me everything.” Aziz went into the living room with his uncle behind him. He sat down on the sofa and Mustafa sat in the chair directly across from him.

Aziz told his uncle everything that had occurred since his uncle had dropped him off — how he’d looked for his father in the store and at his office, gone out and found the car gone from the garage, gone to school with the thought his father would be here upon his return. “After Benny closed the store, he came up here and we talked while he fixed us dinner. The phone rang and it was my father.”

“He called?”

“Yes”

“From where?”

“He wouldn’t tell me.”

“What was the number?”

“It was blocked”

“What did he say?”

“He told me he was sorry he’d gone without letting me know. He was still upset about my mother’s death and needed time for himself. He told me he would be back tomorrow when I got home from school.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“No, nothing I can remember.”

“And he gave you no idea where he was or how far away he was?”

“No, just that I shouldn’t worry and he would be back tomorrow and that I shouldn’t tell anyone he was gone.”

Mustafa was surprised by Akmed’s last statement. “Really? He told you not to tell anyone, including me.”

“Yes, he said it was okay for Benny to know, but no one else.”

“I see. You are a good boy, Aziz. You have grown into a fine young man. You know you are right to tell me this. It is important that you always tell me these things. Many good things are planned for you but, you must always remember to be honest.”

“Yes, uncle”

“Aziz, here is some money. Why don’t you go down the street and pick us up something to eat at the Indian restaurant. I’ll stay here but, please hurry.”

“Yes, uncle. I’ll get you your favorite.” Aziz grabbed his jacket and went out the door, leaving Mustafa still sitting in the chair.

Mustafa was perplexed. While Aziz might think his father’s mourning and need to be alone was understandable, Mustafa knew the truth. Aziz’s parents weren’t man and wife. They didn’t have the bonds of love of a traditional couple. None of the “parents” were that close to result in this level of mourning. Mustafa knew Akmed was upset that he wouldn’t pay for the cancer treatments that would have undoubtedly saved Mahasin’s life. But, the money was to fund the mission, not to cover medical expenses and, at this point, a parent was expendable. From Mustafa’s perspective, he would be done with all of them and take the cousins into his own house but, that would raise too much suspicion. All the parents were becoming a challenge. They had tasted too much of the American life and had started to become beholden to the materialistic ways of this country.

He needed to find out where Akmed was and whom he’d been with. There would have to be a confrontation tomorrow. Mustafa would be here to meet Akmed when he returned, so he could get to the bottom of this quickly. He wasn’t going to sacrifice the mission because of Akmed. The cousins were almost ready. He would move forward quickly if he’d no other choice.

Chapter Twenty-Four

SOUTH PHILADELPHIA

Jordan hopped out of the cab, even before it came to a complete stop. Stan had arranged a military flight from D.C and Jordan had insisted on a cab and not a government sedan for transportation. The last thing he needed was the local gang scouts announcing “five-oh” and hollering “whoop-whoop” with his arrival. Things seemed to be unraveling and there was a need for a new plan. The variables had grown larger and more numerous than he liked and he wanted to get things reigned back in as quickly as possible.

He ducked down the alley behind the building housing the command center. He recognized the face of the man loitering in the alley. He couldn’t recall his name, but they had worked together previously.

The sentry acknowledged Jordan with a slight tilt of the head that wouldn’t have been picked up by anyone else, the man stooped over trashcan, acting like he was scrounging for food. As Jordan walked by, the man said softly, “Go down the second walkway, through the back door, up the rear stairs.”

Jordan focused on the path to the rear of the building and turned left. The building was a typical Philadelphia row house. It seemed to have been fairly well maintained compared to others in the neighborhood. The paint was fresh and the yard and surroundings free of trash and litter. Jordan sprang up the steps to the rear door, entered and found the rear stairs. The building was incredibly quiet. As he got to the second landing, another man was standing at the top of the stairs. Dressed to fit in as a tenant, he eyed Jordan as Jordan hit the last step.

“You Jordan?”

“That’s me.”

“Second door on the right; it’s mayhem in there now.”

“No doubt. Thanks.” Jordan headed down the hall and entered through the second door. The difference from the hallway to the apartment, command center, was like night to day. A dozen people were either at makeshift desks or huddled in groups of two or three. No one looked up when Jordan entered. He scoured the room for Frank when he came bounding around the corner.

“What’s the update on Mustafa?”

Frank noticed Jordan and got a grin on his face. “About time you showed up. There’s a bedroom down the hall I’m using as my office. Why don’t you throw you stuff down there and I’ll get you up to speed. It also overlooks Akmed’s apartment.”

Jordan nodded and, conscious of the rhythm in the room, moved down the hall. On his way, he ran into a Lieutenant he knew from the Philadelphia Police Department. They recognized each other at the same time. “Jim, it’s been a while. I’m glad you’re part of the team.”

“Hey, Jordan! If I knew you were going to be a part of this, I would have turned and run the other way.” They both laughed. Jim O’Keefe had been with the Philadelphia PD for thirty-one years. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah same here. I know you’ve had a tough year in Philly, with the officer killings.” Jordan gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Can you believe it? Five this year. You’d think we were in a war zone. It just makes no sense.” O’Keefe lowered and shook his head.

“Any of them connected?”

“No. Just a bunch of two strikers who were trying to avoid their third.” Jim was referring to the three strikes rule in criminal sentencing. Third convicted offense resulted in a mandatory prison sentence.

“Unbelievable. Hey, I’ll catch up with you later.” Jordan slapped Jim on the back. Jordan believed that things had connections, but they weren’t always obvious but, to have five patrol officers killed in an eight-month time frame had a reason beyond just happening. When he had spare time, he loved to research such things for the sake of his own curiosity. Maybe, when this was over and he had some downtime, he would tackle the killings. He had many friends on the Philly force and in the DA’s office, so he could probably get the reports and talk to people who investigated each of the incidents.

He found the room and threw his bag on the floor. He went over to the window and looked out. There was a diagram to the left of the window that identified the facade of the building across the street. Jordan could match which windows belonged to Akmed’s apartment, which door led up to the apartment, as well as the store. He glanced back and forth until he was comfortable that he knew the layout.

Frank entered the room. “I’m glad you’re here. We’ve got a good team here and all of the locals are cooperating, but they are all tactical. I need you to help with our strategy, which now is zero.”

“Where’s the boy?”

“He’s in the apartment, in his room. He’s reading, but should be going to sleep soon. He was pretty upset after his uncle left. He’s struggling with his father’s absence.”

“Did he call someone to talk about it?” Jordan turned, alarm in his voice that another person was now involved and had this information.

“No. He talks to himself quite a lot. It’s been helpful.”

“Thank God for personality quirks. Where’s Mustafa?”

“Home. We’ve got a team of watchers there both front and back of the house. There have been no visitors. We got a tech team on standby, ready to go in and wire the place if he leaves tonight. If he doesn’t go out, they will go in first thing tomorrow as soon as he leaves.”

“Any chance to do an outside tap now?”

“He’s got two big dogs in the yard and they are barkers. We did a walk-by and, when our guys were a half a house off, the dogs started in and didn’t stop until our guys were on the next block.”

“What’s the background check shown on Mustafa?”

“Nothing really. From Iran and been in USA for fifteen years. No problems, has a green card and is sponsored.”

“By who? What does he do?”

“He’s a manager for a cleaning service. They do offices — even have some Federal contracts. We’re doing a background on the company now. We should have it back in an hour.”