Chapter 36
36
Crossing through the woods, Logan made his way toward the house on the hill. He’d grabbed items from his truck, including one of his weapons. Only two cars remained in the driveway, and he recognized both of them—Akram’s and Malik’s. He eyed a tree near the back corner and slipped closer. He radioed his location and plan but hated that he’d felt such a sense of urgency when he left that he didn’t take the time to locate the video camera he could attach to his shirt, leaving him hands free. At least he had a snake camera to aid him, even if it was handheld.
After a quick assessment, he climbed the tree to the second level. Using the snake camera to peek into a window, he observed a room empty of furniture. The dust on the floor indicated no evidence of human contact for a while.
Using a glass cutter, he quickly cut a circle out of the window directly above the old flip lock. Reaching in, he unlatched the window and opened it with practiced ease. Sliding through silently, he stepped carefully onto the wooden floor.
Stealthily moving around the edge of the walls where the floor would be more supported and less likely to creak, he once again used the camera to peer out the door into an empty hall. Scanning the other open doors, it appeared the entire upstairs was devoid of any signs of life. They’d found an abandoned house outside town, making it the perfect hideout.
He heard voices below, raised in argument, recognizing Akram and Malik.
“It makes no sense for you to send them!” Malik yelled. “Farrah is a weak link. You know that.”
“She might be, but Nafisa certainly is not. She will keep an eye on Farrah and make sure she does what she is supposed to do. Once it is done, then Farrah will have no choice but to keep doing as she’s told. She’ll be afraid of being caught, and that will keep her in line.”
“Nafisa shouldn’t have to worry about Farrah on top of what she is doing?—”
“Why do you think I sent Rashad with them? Your feelings for Nafisa are too close to the surface. You would fail where Rashad will succeed. Nothing will deter him from his great jihad.”
Listening carefully at the top of the stairs, he remembered Vivian telling him that Malik had feelings for Nafisa but that Nafisa had feelings for Rashad, who appeared not to reciprocate those emotions. Silently thanking Vivian for that tidbit of information, he hesitated before slipping downstairs, wanting to hear where the women had gone.
Akram’s voice came from the right of the stairs, which, from what he could ascertain, was where the dining room would be. He heard the keyboard clicking, probably Akram on his computer, as well as Malik's pacing.
Wanting them to be in the same room, he waited patiently until he heard Malik’s footsteps move close to where Akram and the computer were.
Slipping down the stairs with his weapon drawn, he rounded the corner, catching the two men unaware. Their eyes widened, first at him and then at his weapon. Malik stood perfectly still, his hands raised by his side, his mouth open in surprise.
But Akram’s lips slowly curved upward as he stood, one hand slightly behind his back. “Well, well. Mr. Preacher.” He chuckled. “I should have known that name was false. I congratulate you on your charade.”
“Hands where I can see them.”
Akram’s smile dipped slightly as he slowly raised his hands, a gun held loosely in one of them.
“Drop the weapon,” he ordered as Malik began to babble.
“What are you going to do? Arrest us? You can’t do this. You can’t stop us. It’s already started?—”
“Our neighbor has no intention of arresting us, do you?” Akram’s dark eyes remained locked onto Logan. “He has to get through us to get to the women.”
Malik looked between the two men, understanding dawning on him. “Nafisa!” he cried as he whirled, darting for the front door.
Logan fired, and Malik dropped onto the floor, a pool of blood spreading out from underneath him.
Akram fired a wide shot, hitting the wall next to Logan as he ducked, then fired another shot toward Akram. The bullet hit the man in the arm, sending his gun skittering down the hall. Standing, Logan stalked forward and leaned over the bleeding man, surprised the smile was still on Akram’s face.
“You cannot stop us. You take down one, and a hundred more will rise to take our place.”
“Your particular jihad stops here,” he growled.
Grinning, Akram reached his hand to press against his bleeding arm when he suddenly slammed it against his chest instead.
A beeping began, and Logan yelled, “Fuck!” knowing the sound of a timer on a bomb. Whirling around, he snatched the laptop off the table and sprinted toward the door to the screams of Akram.
“Noooo!” Akram wailed.
Racing through the front yard, he was unable to discern the voices of the Keepers in his earpiece as the ground shook when the explosion behind him rocked the land. Throwing himself face down onto the grass, Logan covered his head as pieces of wood flew past him. Turning back to observe the blazing inferno, he pushed himself up and ran into the woods by the side of the driveway. Having parked down the street, he raced to his truck, throwing open the door. Once started, he gunned it, churning up the gravel. He put distance between him and the destroyed house, assuming the Tanana fire station would respond, just like they had in Ester.
Two miles down the road, he pulled into a parking lot at the edge of town, desperate to find where Farrah, Nafisa, and Rashad were.
“Tell me what you’ve got!”
“The last message Akram sent before the explosion was in code. We’ve just got it,” Sadie radioed in return.
Arriving at the Tanana Inn again, Vivian retraced her earlier steps and returned to the reception desk. The same man looked at her, his head tilted in question.
Offering a smile that was as fake as she felt, she shrugged. “I thought I saw some friends, but…uh…”
“Oh.” He nodded. “Didn’t find who you were looking for?”
“No…no, I didn’t. He…uh, they weren’t who I thought they were… at all.” Looking around the lobby, she said, “I know you’ve got the show tour…um… thing going on. Do you have a room for the night?”
“Looks like you’re in luck, but it’s not my best room. We’re at capacity in the main building, but we’ve got one of the original cabin rooms toward the back that’s rarely used.”
She scrunched her nose in distaste, saying, “What kind of shape is it in?”
He threw his hands up in defense and quickly explained. “Oh no, ma’am, don’t worry. It’s a perfectly fine room. It’s just behind the inn. Two of the original cabins were left when they tore the others down to build this building. They were the ones closest to the woods. One is for overflow guests, and the other is used as the housekeepers’ storage room and hotel laundry.”
She cocked her head to the side, searching her memory. “I used to spend my summers here with my grandparents when I was little. I remember this inn… it was tiny, individual cabins.”
A smile spread across his face as he nodded. “Yeah, I always loved those cabins. They were torn down when new owners decided to make this a hotel to get more rooms and more money. We usually rent it last since a lot of customers don’t like the distance or the laundry noise, but other than that, it’s a perfectly good room. And anyway, the housekeepers are gone for the day and the laundry’s all done. So there won’t be any noise. You should be good for the night.”
“It’ll be fine,” she replied, her gratitude real in the face of overwhelming exhaustion. “I’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning anyway.”
Leaning forward, he smiled and said, “I’ll give you a discount since you’re being so nice about it.”
Smiling her thanks, she handed him her credit card. A few minutes later, she walked past his desk and down the hall to a door that opened to a path toward the cabin. The mulched path led her to the door of a tiny log cabin. The front faced the back of the hotel, and to the side, farther in the woods, was an identical cabin with an engraved wooden sign over the door indicating the laundry.
Her room key was just that—an old-fashioned key on a key ring with a white plastic tag and the cabin number engraved on it. Entering, she flipped the light switch and breathed a sigh of relief. The room was old but perfectly clean. The window facing the direction of the laundry had been boarded over, probably to attempt to keep out the noise and possible prying eyes of the housekeepers. Shutting the door behind her, she dropped her overnight bag on the floor.
Walking over to the only other window, she pulled back the curtain and stared out over the back of the hotel and parking lot in the distance. Not worrying about the view, she turned and moved to the bed, jerking the covers down. Seeing the clean sheets, she flopped onto the bed, her body finally giving in to the day's exhaustion.
Thoughts of Logan and the mission filled her mind. Angry with herself that she agreed to the job without finding out the entire facts first, she had to admit that her supervisor probably did not know the extent of the security specialist’s job description.
Rolling to her side, she thought of Logan’s deception but knew he was right when he said he never mentioned arresting anyone. That was her expectation. So he didn’t lie…he just let me keep my false assumption.
The faces of their neighbors and visitors drifted through her mind. She knew they were terrorists… she knew they were working on biological warfare… and they had to be stopped. It’s so much easier being just a civilian who wants terrorism to stop, yet we sit in our safe houses and never know what others endure to make that happen. She thought of Logan’s SEAL team and the injury that forced him to find another way to earn money and then serve again. He has the guts to do what it takes to make us safe. How can I sit in judgment of that?