Smoke and Shadow (3 page)

Baker crossed the
street with Carpenter as he called back to Trent and Chu.
“
We
won
’
t be long, so
try not to get killed while I
’
m gone. I need someone to drive me
home.
”

Trent leaned
against the Hummer and shook his head.
“
You see that, Smoke? You give a guy
a ride, and all of a sudden he thinks he owns a
plantation.
”

Chu sat in the
driver
’
s seat,
laughing.
“
Fucking
racists
”

Baker and
Carpenter scanned the street as they reached
Popanjar
’
s front
door. Baker could feel the spring in his partner
’
s step. He glanced over to see the
man smile as he rang the doorbell.
“
I
’
ve got a good feeling about this.
This guy is going to be the start of something big for
me.
”

Carpenter said
this about his last three potential assets. None of them had panned
out either.
“
You
’
re gonna
get it soon. You
’
ve put in the time and beat the bushes like no one else.
You
’
ll get your
field command any day now.
”

"I hope so. I don't want to waste
my best years in your shadow."

There was an
electronic click, and the front door unlocked. Baker wondered why a
finance broker would unlock his door in the middle of the night
without even asking who they were. Then he saw the black eye of the
security camera mounted above the doorframe. Carpenter sensed his
question and grinned his reply.
“
We have an
appointment.
”

A single flight
of dimly lit wooden stairs met them when they walked through the
open door. Carpenter mounted the stairs without a word. Another
door on their left was closed. Baker couldn’t read Arabic, but he
imagined the sign said something to the effect of
“
Popanjar Financial
Services: Financial freedom for the freedom
fighter.
”
Baker
followed Carpenter up to what he guessed was the Popanjar
residence. A second camera gazed down at them over the door at the
top of the stairs, so Baker wasn
’
t surprised when the door began to
open before they even reached the top. He was surprised by what met
them when they reached the landing.

The
man
’
s breathing
was heavy and labored, as if he had been running or climbing a
mountain. His dark hair was matted down with sweat, and his bare
chest heaved from exertion. The lungi around his waist looked like
expensive silk, but it was disheveled. He got dressed in a hurry.
They might have had an appointment, but they had clearly
interrupted Singh Popanjar.

Carpenter
didn
’
t let the
image deter him. He went right into his pitch.
“
As-salaamu
‘
alaikum, my friend. It is good to
see you again.
”

Popanjar
’
s
grin was cheerful, but he didn
’
t show any teeth.
“
Valaikum-salam, Mr.
Reed. Welcome to my home.
”
He swung the door wide to let the two men in, and
they obliged him without a word.

The living room
was similar to many Baker visited or raided since his time in Iraq.
The blend of traditional Muslim and Persian style stood in stark
contrast to the flat-screen TVs and the iPod docs on the tables.
The center of the room had been prepared for their meeting. Three
chairs sat facing each other on the ornate rug in the center of the
room. Off to the side of one chair, a table held a tea service and
a large bowl of fruit. A couple of doors were closed, maybe they
led to the bedroom and the bathroom, but those normal details
didn
’
t catch Baker
attention. The most engrossing and disturbing feature in the room
was next to the base of the TV.

A small boy lay in a fetal position
on a dirty pillow on the floor. In the half-light of the room, his
bare chest and lungi suggested hasty dressing. The child was
sniffling, stifling back tears that made his whole body shiver.
What had they interrupted?

Popanjar motioned
to the men to take a seat, as if the boy was invisible.
“
Please relax in my home.
Allow me to offer you some refreshments? I have several types of
tea
…”

Carpenter also
made no reference to the crying boy as he sat down.
“
Thank you. We appreciate
you meeting us at such a late hour
…”

Baker
didn
’
t ignore the
boy and he didn
’
t
sit.
“
Is he
OK?
”
he asked,
motioning with his chin toward the dirty pillow. Popanjar shook his
head with a grave air, but the grin never left his
face.

“
My nephew is
fine. He just needs to be reminded of his manners from time to
time. I was forced to chastise him before you arrived. I know you
do not believe in striking children in America, but in my country,
it is a relative
’
s
duty to educate the young properly.
”

Carpenter rubbed
his hands on his thighs, smiling up at the two men.
“
You have a strong sense
of family, Mr. Singh. We appreciate that, even in
America.
”

The echo of
Carpenter
’
s
comment in the Hummer made the scene suspect. He prefers his
privacy to protection.
“
Where are his parents? Do they live with you
too?
”

The grin faded
now and Popanjar looked down, shaking his head with a solemn
slowness.
“
I
’
m afraid
they fled Karbala when the surge started. Heavy fighting forced
them to flee quickly. I have not heard from them in some
time.
”
He glanced
up at Baker with a look designed to elicit pity.
“
I fear they might be
unable to return at all.
”

“
I
’
m sure we
can help provide for your nephew. We can make sure your nephew
lives very well from now on.
”
Carpenter had a high-pitched edge in his voice.
Baker could sense his struggle to get the meeting back on track,
but he didn
’
t look
at him. He looked back at the boy.

“
There is a risk
in keeping him here. He could be used against you. He could be
forced to reveal your secrets.
”

For a moment, the
edge of Popanjar
’
s
grin curled up like a feral dog.
“
That is not a concern at all. The
boy never leaves my side.
”

“
You clearly
have a good grasp of security. We noticed the cameras
outside
…”
Carpenter pleaded.

Baker ignored
him, focusing on Singh.
“
It
’
s good you keep him close. You never
know when you might need his
…
services.
”
The emphasis on the last word got
Singh
’
s attention.
His eyebrows perked up, and he leaned in closer as if sharing a
secret with Baker.

“
Exactly, I have
many needs.
”

Baker
lied.
“
I know what
you mean.
”

Popanjar opened
his arms; his grin was back, wider than ever.
“
Mr. Reed has brought me a true
friend! We will work very well together.
”

“
Life brings the
right people together at the right time.
”
Baker forced a grin of his own as
he motioned to the child.
“
I
don
’
t mean to be
rude, but is it possible for me to see him more closely? I always
like to admire a man
’
s tastes.
”

The eyes of the
hawaladar brightened at the compliment.
“
Of course, true friends must share
their passions.
”
Baker could feel Carpenter
’
s eyes boring into the back of his
head. He could hear the man
’
s nervous fidgeting. He considered
shooting his partner a look when he heard the child
crying.

It was a primal, cracked sound
coming from a voice overstrained from constant screaming. It had a
haunting resonance suggesting weeks or months of abuse. It was the
cry of the forced labor camps in Potosi, the back-alley brothels in
Caracas and the killing fields in Cali. But this came from a baby,
a tiny boy whose childhood had been replaced with a sadistic
nightmare. The sound lasted for only a second, but it expressed an
entire lost life.

Popanjar dragged
the boy toward them by a frail arm. The little thing whimpered, but
he was too weak to struggle. There was a sneer on the
hawaladar
’
s face
as he came back into the light. He had the look of a man who just
exposed a lie.
“
You seem troubled by my nephew, friend. Are you not impressed
with my tastes?
”

Baker felt the
sudden flood of sweat on his forehead. He
’
d taken a step back, as if to get
away from the source of his revulsion. He struggled to
recover.
“
I
’
m
concerned the police or other members of your community might find
out about him. Someone could hear the noise he
makes.
”

Popanjar looked
down at the broken boy, shaking his head again in a mockery of
concern. Then there was a glance over Baker
’
s shoulder. It lasted for only a
heartbeat, but Baker saw something in Popanjar
’
s face. When he looked back at
Baker, there was wild conspiracy in his eyes.
“
That is true. My desires are a crime
under Islamic law. But you and Mr. Reed are good friends. We can
help each other.
”

There was a knot
in Baker
’
s
stomach.
“
What do
you mean?
”

“
I want to help
you find the men who threaten your way of life. I want you to help
me against the people who threaten mine.
”
Popanjar
’
s smile showed teeth now. Baker
thought he wanted to bite something. He glanced to the back of the
apartment again, as if waiting for something.
“
You can help keep them away. You can
protect me. I need protection
”
He shook the little boy
’
s arm like a useless
rag.

Baker focused on
the sweaty slope of the contact
’
s forehead, when the reality of the
situation hit him.
“
I understand what you need.
”
He mumbled through gritted
teeth.

Popanjar shook
his head with grave resignation.
“
No. I
don
’
t think you
understand. I think you look down on me. You don
’
t understand what I need. You
don
’
t know what
I've done.
”
With
another wild glance behind them, he tossed the
boy
’
s arm onto the
floor. The little thing curled up without a sound. The hawaladar
reached for the fold in his lungi, clutching it with a violent
grip.
“
I should
show you what you are dealing with! I need you to
understand.
”