The Godless One (38 page)

"How delectable," Ari frowned, reading
the wrapper.

"Shoot and scoot!"

Within less than a minute, Ari was
alone with the Director and the techie manning the comm links,
listening to the men in the driveway.

"Did you hear who's he's
rooting for? Qatar. I didn't think Qatar had a team of anything.
Fucking ragheads."

"Germany! Fucking mopheads
in Germany!"

"There's a place called
Charlie's in Farmville. Big sports bar. We'd only miss half of the
first quarter."

"He doesn't want us
leaving. Where the hell is Nazal? Shit on these people—handball and
pistachio ice cream!"

"The Boss doesn't want us
going anywhere."

"The Boss can stick his
dick in the nearest cow."

The Directed turned to Ari. "Any idea
who this 'Boss' is? He must really have their balls in a sack if he
can keep them from watching the Super Bowl."

Ari shook his head.

There was the sound of a door closing,
then a voice that Ari recognized as belonging to Sid Overstreet
came over the speaker.

"The Boss said he's sick of
our griping and we can go with his blessing."

"He said that?"

"Actually, he said
something like 'go fuck yourselves'."

"Sounds like a 'yes' to
me!"

"Hot Dog, you still there?" said the
Director. "How much of that did you catch?"

"There's a seventh guy coming off the
porch. I'm pretty sure they're leaving."

"They sure as hell are. Hold your
position. We're on our way." The Director gave a pep-pat on the
tech's back. "Did you get all our frequencies straight?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the tech said.

As she whirled suddenly, the Director
almost knocked Ari down. "Sorry. And sorry we couldn't take you up
on your suggestion. I'd like to wait for more help, but if these
people are as dangerous as you make them out to be, we can't have
them running loose in Cumberland."

"I understand," said Ari, hiding his
elation.

The next moment, he was alone in the
large room with the tech and the sound of voices from the portable
speakers. Nazal, the prisoner, and his ninja guard were off in a
closed room.

"Oh, hey," said the tech.

"Yes?"

"If you want to watch the game, there's
a TV over there. You're the only lucky one here,
tonight."

"I'll bear that in mind," said Ari,
going to the window, out of sight of the tech. He took out the cell
phone Ahmad had programmed for him and pressed the Send button
twice.

Against his inclination, he had warned
the authorities against going in under-strength and under-armed.
They had gone, anyway. Ari was free to run with his
plan.

Which was already compromised by the
guards in the woods.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Is Ahmad all right?" Ari asked Abu
Jasim as he hauled himself painfully into the Sprinter.

"He was five minutes ago. Are you going
to pay for the damage to my new van? These rocks are playing hell
on my undercarriage and paint. And I bet at some point you're going
to want me to go racing all over these awful roads and I'll
probably hit trees and—"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"I don't know," Abu Jasim said. "You're
very good at it usually, except when your head is banged up. And
you have a habit of leaving out vital facts. Like the time you
asked me to take an important message to General al-Hiti. Remember
that?"

"Hmmmm?"

"When he opened the letter, it said
something about you shitting on his grave."

"I never. Anyway, believe me now. By
this time tomorrow morning, you might be very wealthy."

"One of your famous convolutions. 'I
will be wealthy if I survive until morning.' Is that more like it?
And where will this wealth come from?"

"You'll find out soon enough." He
cringed as Abu Jasim swerved sharply onto a back road. "You have
great faith in the balance of this vehicle. Now can we get back to
Ahmad?"

"I don't know what we can do," Abu
Jasim sighed. "He reports that there are two men guarding the road
to that beautiful Lexus."

"No one at the van and GT?"

"They've been towed away."

"I need to talk to him."

Abu Jasim took one hand off the wheel
and reached into his coat pocket. "Uh, the green one. Just open it
and press. His is the only number programmed in it."

Ari pressed.

"I'm still here!" Ahmed answered from
his forest lookout. "Are you coming to get me? I think my batteries
are dying. I'm getting frostbite."

"Your courage is to be commended. I'll
buy you new toes. Can you still see the two guards? Are they
changing position?"

"They've come back up the second road.
I think they're locking the barrier. They're talking a lot on their
radio. They weren't talking so much before."

"What are they armed with?"

"How should I know? They've got guns,
all right?"

"Long guns or short guns?"

"You mean rifles? Yeah, they've got
rifles. They probably—shit, they're looking this way..."

Ari did not answer. "What do you know
about American football?" he asked Abu Jasim.

"The girls run around
naked."

"The girls play?"

"No, they just run around
naked."

"I'll have to watch a game. The two
teams playing tonight are the Indianapolis Bears and Chicago Colts.
Remember that, it might be important."

"I think Ahmad said the Bears come from
Chicago."

"It's cold up there. It must be very
hard on the naked girls."

"Ahmad said they're playing in
Miami."

"Ah." Ari lifted the phone to his mouth
and spoke in a low voice. "Ahmad?"

"They're looking away now. Jesus, I
thought I was fried."

"Since when did you start praying to
Jesus?"

"It's just an expression."

"You are obviously familiar with
American football?"

"Sure, I watch it all season. Chicago
is supreme."

"You shouldn't be watching naked
women."

"What naked women? Is my uncle with
you? Tell him to get me the f—"

"Ahmad, what do American footballer
fans say when the team they favor scores a point. I understand
there is much yelling and screaming. Wait one moment..." He pointed
at the fire road that connected with Sugar Loaf Road.
"Here."

"I know, Colonel," Abu Jasim said. "Did
Ahmad say those two guards are still there? What do you plan to do
about them? If we get in a gunfight we might lose. And it won't
help if we kill them. We'll end up in Fort Knox."

"I'm working on it," said Ari as rocks
and gravel banged against the Sprinter. "Ahmad?"

"Yeah, the people yell 'touchdown!' and
some other stupid stuff. Why?"

"Stay where you are. We'll be there in
a minute." Ari closed the phone. "Stop here a moment. Put on your
balaclava."

It had been Ahmad's inspiration to buy
NFL ski masks, asserting that it would help them blend in. "And it
takes a lot for you two to blend," he said smugly. Ari had grave
doubts about the little teddy bear knitted into the crown, but
removing them would probably cause the masks to unravel.

They drove on. About a quarter mile
down the fire road he told Abu Jasim to roll down his window. "I
want you to start yelling 'touchdown!' as loud as you
can."

"Say that again."

"Touchdown. Come on, you can say
it."

"Hutchdon."

"That will have to do.
Oh...get your pistol ready.
Now
!"

With a wind chill factor of about zero
blowing in their faces, Ari and Abu Jasim bellowed out of their
windows. As they came up on the secondary fire road, the two guards
stepped out, waving their arms. Abu Jasim braked. One guard ran up
to each window.

"Who scored?" one of them demanded
breathlessly.

"We did," said Ari, pointing his gun
out the window. The guard was wearing an unmarked vest. He reached
reflexively for his M4. "Don't try testing your armor. I'm aiming
at your face."

"Fuck," the guard said.

"Indeed. Now, throw your rifle in the
bushes."

"Colonel! That's good
money!"

"Yes...all right, place the rifle in
front of the van. And that pistol. Is that a dagger I see? That,
too. What other ridiculous things are you carrying?"

"I like those helmets and goggles,"
said Abu Jasim.

"You heard the man," Ari
said.

"We heard gibberish," said one of the
guards through gritted teeth. It had slipped Ari's mind that Abu
Jasim had spoken in Arabic. He translated.

"Those black ninja outfits—"

"Enough! I'll watch them
while you...you
did
bring the zip ties."

"Yes, but I couldn't figure out what
you wanted them for," Abu Jasim said, going to the back of the
van.

"Contingency, Abu Jasim. I was always
trying to beat it into your head." He lifted his head. "Ahmad! You
can come out of your shithole, now!"

There was no response from the
woods.

Abu Jasim came out with the zip ties
and soon the guards were leaning bound against a tree trunk,
shivering.

"Didn't I see a blanket in the back?
Please, cover these men. I don't want to murder them with
pneumonia."

"All that work we did to hide the
Lexus," Abu Jasim groused and he went back inside the van. "They
found it in two seconds. You oppress me with busywork."

When Abu Jasim came back, Ari took the
blanket from him. "Now go see to your idiot nephew."

Ari tucked in the two guards, wrapping
the blanket around their shoulders and pulling it down over their
legs.

"You're fucked," one of them
said.

"So I am frequently advised." Ari said.
He gathered up the men's weapons, radios and accessories and put
them in the back of the Sprinter. He peered into the woods for a
moment, waiting for Abu Jasim and Ahmad, then took out another cell
phone.

"Do you know what this son of a mule
was doing?" Abu Jasim barged out of the underbrush, dragging Ahmad
by his ear, with Ahmad lugging his nightscope and thermos. "He was
wearing earplugs...listening to that blasphemous game!"

"My ears are frozen!" Ahmad howled. "Do
you know how much that hurts?" Abu Jasim let go. Ahmad shot him a
scowl of resentment, then saw the two guards against the tree. "Oh
shit."

"Quiet!" Ari raised the cell phone and
entered the number Fatimah had given him.

"You are
so
fucked," said the
second guard.

"Shut up, Yankee putrid-ness. " Abu
Jasim kicked mud in the second’s guard’s face while Ari walked down
the road a bit. He was about to give up when the ringing was
replaced by a voice.

"ISAF," said a man.

Ari was so startled that for a moment
he was speechless.

"Who is this?" the deep voice
said.

Ari tried to collect his wits. Part of
him said he should have expected this. The other part said he was
in deep trouble.

"Hey, you heavy-breathing son of a
bitch, you got something to say? Who gave you this
number?"

"Tell Abu Sarhan we are wolf hunting,"
Ari said, and hung up.

Almost immediately, it began to ring.
Ari impulsively threw the phone in the bushes.

"Colonel?" said Ahmad. "Is that someone
you know? Or is it someone you don't want to know? Because that
phone's got a GPS tracker—"

"Smash it!"

The continued ringing made the phone
easy to locate. Ahmad placed it on a rock and came down hard with
his heel. The ringing continued. Abu Jasim, in heavy surplus Army
boots, came over and put all his weight and strength into a
smashing blow. The ringing stopped.

"Are you sure it's dead?" Ari
asked.

Abu Jasim brought his heel down a few
more times. "I think so."

Ari wondered if he was having some form
of seizure. His heart was bouncing from one side of his rib cage to
the other. His carefully laid plan had fallen apart at critical
junctures, yet he was still at the spot he had hoped to be when he
woke up this morning. How was that possible? Was an unseen hand
assisting him? Or was good luck forcing itself down his throat?
Amazing, how unpalatable and nerve-wracking it could be. He calmed
himself by scrolling down his mental outline and ticking off what
had been done, and what he needed to accomplished next.

"Get the shotguns out."

Ahmad had been prepared in advance for
this moment, which did nothing to lessen his dread. Abu Jasim
brought two 12-guage shotguns from the back of the van, handing one
each to Ari and his nephew. He started to go back for a
third.