Surrept (2 page)

He looks at the frightened woman covered in bright red string and bows to acknowledge her. "Good morning, Susan."

The young attorney walks calmly down the hall. He pushes open office doors, blasting the selected occupants as he goes. Various exclamations fill the hallway.

At the last door a man's voice erupts, "Jesus H. Christ, Matt. Have you lost your mind?"

Matt walks on, smiling grandly, and loudly says, "Not Jesus Frank, just Matthew J. Cohen, attorney-at-law. Barrister and confirmed asshole." He blows on the orifices of his weapons of choice—as if a gunslinger just finished clearing the street—and he disappears into his office and closes his door.

Matt sits down at his desk, pulls off his coat, sets his bag down on the floor and drapes the coat over it next to him. He smiles as his phone lights up and the buzzer begins to sound.

He turns on his computer, the buzzer stops, and Matt swivels his chair to face the door, wondering which victim will appear first at its threshold. The door flies open and there stands senior partner and attorney William (Bill) Holt, red faced and still partially covered with string, his trousers revealing a coffee stain. "What in God's name was that about?"

Matt stares at him thinking about his response.

Bill moves closer. "Answer me, damn it!"

Matt leans forward and folds his hands on his desk, "Well. Bill, last week you invited me to lunch under the premise that you wanted to talk shop. You then proceeded to give me an opinionated sermon regarding my dating habits, and how it could affect my career, the reputation of the firm, and my colleagues. You then asked me if I knew the Lord, knowing full well my belief and policy regarding religion and politics, yet you still insinuated my need to get good with God."

Bill realizes now where this is going. "Look Matt, I was just trying to share the love of Christ with you and how it has affected me and my ethic . . ."

Matt interrupts him. "Your ethic? What ethic, you're kidding me right? You're referring to the ethic regarding banging your legal assistant in the conference room on those Saturdays and after hours, while telling your wife and kids that you're working late. Moreover, how hard your schedule is, and how you need to get in early to catch up, just like this morning, right?"

Bill erupts as if indignant at Matt's invasion of his life. "My life is none of your business; you have no right to judge me."

Matt looks at him and smiles as he stands and extends his hand. "Bill, you do understand, that was my point exactly. Christians don't judge their brothers, right Bill?"

Bill looks at him, realizing he fell right into the young trial attorney's trap. He turns to leave.

Matt says to him, "I hope you can see clear to forgive me Bill, as he did all of us by shedding his blood for our sins. Say hello to the wife for me." The door closes, Matt smiles, sits down, and wonders who will be next.

Matt reaches for his mouse and opens his e-mail. He begins typing, the cursor stamps out the address:

[email protected]

The cursor continues in the body of the e-mail.

David,

I love you more than a marine loves liberty on a Friday night in a whorehouse. But I have some rather bad news…I cannot be your best man as I have just "blasted" every member of the firm that did not get away, and I'm now awaiting my fate in my office.

I was just sick of all their shit (just like the guy in Chicago) therefore, I blasted them.

I have no regrets as I feel that I will provide myself an excellent defense and believe I'll be vindicated for eradicating the spineless, weak, mealy mouthed liars here at the firm.

I have but one major favor to ask of you…I'm going to need some help with bail arrangements for sure bro…I'm counting on you.

Please respond ASAP as time, I am sure, is limited.

Your brother from another mother,

Matthew J. Cohen

Attorney At Law

Matthew Cohen smiles as he hits the send button.

Chapter Two

David leaves the foyer of his building; he walks into the brisk morning air as he checks his watch and picks up the pace so he does not to miss the Metro.

He rounds the corner and sees other commuters awaiting the train. He steps onto the platform and looks around thinking how much the crowd has grown since the Metro first started. His Blackberry goes off, signaling an e-mail message as the train arrives and the crowd politely files into the warm train cars.

The voice announcement states the destinations heading south toward the Denver tech center. David grabs a seat and opens his e-mail message from Matt, his best friend since childhood. As he reads the message, his face goes pale. He realizes the content is different from his friend's usual nonsense, and he remembers the CNN story from this morning.

The voice over the speaker announces the next stop. The train begins to slow, the doors open and the next crowd files into his car. A large woman chooses to join David with her purse and briefcase. David cuts the call attempt short as she nudges her way to comfort, excusing herself as she settles in.

Three stops later, David exits the train and redials Matt. He wants to talk directly to his friend, no text or e-mails. The call goes immediately to voicemail.

He enters the building where he works. The guard greets him as he passes and enters the elevator with a few others. As the door opens, the receptionist smiles as usual, hoping to catch the handsome top ad exec's attention . . . as she does most every morning.

He smiles. "Good morning, Cassie." He walks to his office and notices that his new girl is late again, and then recalls her efficient manner, her enthusiasm, and the way she walks in those tight skirts. This is a plus, especially for the clients.

David removes his overcoat, hangs it on the coat rack, and takes a seat at his desk, the sun beams in his windows. He looks out over DTC at all of the modern structures as he energizes his computer and checks his schedule. It reads,
Kiatsu
DEADLINE TODAY. The rest of the schedule is wide open, only a reminder of Dana's big closing with the word (FLOWERS).

The reminder is for her anticipated success, but he decides to send them anyway.

Then his e-mail notification box alerts him to incoming correspondence. He opens the inbox, reviews some company chatter, and sees that Matt also carbon copied his office with his cryptic message. David reads the message once again, whispering aloud to himself, "Is this really happening?"

David reaches for the phone and hits a speed dial key with the same hand, it rings, and his girl answers.

"Dana Underwood." He loves her voice. "How's it going?"

"Better now that my favorite man called me."

"How was the Metro?"

"It was crowded but I got a seat. Are you ready for the big closing?"

"No. I had traffic to deal with. I just got in because someone made me late."

David smiles as he responds. "I have to warn you, young lady, that will be happening for the rest of your life."

Dana whispers. "I wish you were here right now"

David avoids the response as Adriana, his new girl, pops her head in and waves to let him know she was there. He goes right into another question as he waves back to his tardy assistant.

"So how's the morning going for my girl and her big day?"

"Much better now that my man has called me to let me know that I'm on his mind as much as he is on mine."

"What time is your closing?"

"Eleven sharp. The seller wanted me in here at the break of dawn, but I knew I couldn't get the buyers in here that early. They are coming from Aspen, and they didn't want to run into Denver traffic coming in, so I timed it so that they would miss it."

David says, "That's my girl, always thinking, covering all the angles, making sure the pens all have ink in them and the cookies are hot for her clients."

Dana replies, "My father taught me that, covering the details is good insurance that the check clears."

"You are certainly daddy's girl."

"How about I take you to dinner tonight at Morton's to celebrate my biggest closing, and afterwards, I can be your little girl, and I can show you how good she can be?"

David smiles again. "I'm all in, but can I make a suggestion?

Dana playfully replies. "And what would that be?"

"I think this celebration calls for my girl to be really bad and naughty."

Dana's buzzer sounds at her desk, and a voice emerges from the speaker. "Dana, you have Jim Thomas on the line from Title of the Rockies. He needs the changes for the closing today."

Dana responds to the intercom. "I'll be right with him. David I got to go, I'll call you later."

David excuses himself. "Bye, baby. Good luck."

David looks over at his e-mail from Matthew and re-reads it. He sighs and dials Matt's number reluctantly.

Matt is in his office reviewing a file; his cell phone rings. He smiles knowingly that David called his cell due to the e-mail. He picks up the phone and whispers, "Hey, man you finally called."

"Matt what is going on with this e-mail? What did you do?"

Matt adjusts his voice, sounding a little crazy, "I blasted most of them, and now I'm awaiting prosecution for my actions."

David, concerned, barks at his friend, "What did you do exactly this time, Matt?"

Matt smiles and rises from his desk as if to be more convincing, "I saw what that guy did in Chicago. I wanted to know how that felt, so I acquired my weapons of choice and I came to the office and just blasted the shit out of everyone in my path who had it coming . . . and a few who didn't just because they were there. And I got to tell you, man, it felt great."

David leans forward. "What weapons, Matt? Quit screwing with me, damn it."

Matt holds the phone away as he laughs silently and tries to regain composure. He puts on his most serious voice and quietly says, "David, you and I know that I have always been a little off and I do not agree with how the rest of the world sees things, right?"

David listens to Matt. He sounds so strange.

Matt puts a rare anger in his voice and raises his tone. "So I decided to finally do something that would get their attention. I would show everyone just how abnormal I really am." Matt breathes heavily into the phone to sell his act, and then raises his voice. "I blasted them with extreme prejudice as I quietly stalked down the hall into each of their offices. I felt free as I watched the horror in their faces as I blasted them."

David, fearing his best friend has gone off the deep end done something horrible. "Matt, so help me God, man—tell me what weapons of choice?"

Matt stares out of his window trying to compose himself, knowing he has successfully hooked David. He quietly says, "Super silly string, and a giant air horn. You should have seen their faces, bro."

David hears the words, and relief overwhelms him as he realizes that once again, his best friend has had him. "Oh, you asshole." David hangs up the phone hard and shakes his head.

Chapter Three

The young Middle Eastern man who had been in morning prayer earlier turns the corner in a white delivery van. He enters the alley behind the Middle Eastern market. The radio is playing Middle Eastern music. He pulls up to the rear door and shuts off the van. He picks up a clipboard off the dash. He grabs a backpack next to his seat as he exits the vehicle and closes the door.

Ahmed Jassim Ali Naseri, twenty-five years old, born in Syria and raised in Iraq since age three, is the only survivor of his immediate family. His parents, an older brother and two sisters were all casualties of the gulf war and/or the regime of Saddam Hussein.

Ahmed has been in the U.S. for two years and is attending Colorado University in Denver after attending Oxford in England for four years. He is about to complete his masters in biology and agricultural sciences. He is in the top five percent of his studies.

Ahmed enters the rear of the market. His cousin Omar, the owner of the market, greets him along with his wife Kari who has sponsored Ahmed here in the U.S. They are his only surviving blood relatives.

Omar asks if the deliveries had all been made.

Ahmed nods and hands him the clipboard along with the receipts from the morning stops.

Omar quickly reviews the receipts. "I received a call this morning while you were making deliveries from Josef, the baker in Baghdad, and he asked if you were here. Why he is calling you after all this time?"

Ahmed is surprised and apprehensive, "Oh, I try to keep in touch with all of our friends back home, and he wants to sell some products in his bakery. He asked me if I could look into getting him some products from your suppliers for him."

"Why did he not just ask me, I've known his family for years?"

"I think he wants me to help advance him some products and he probably did not want to ask you, as it would embarrass him to impose. Things are not good there, as you know."