Chapter Eight #5
“If you need anything, call me. I mean it. Doesn’t matter what time.” He handed her phone back. “I’m in room 1520. Anything. Anytime.”
“It’s OK. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will, but I left you ten years ago at a time when you needed me.
I’m not about to make that same mistake twice.
I’m here. As your friend. Whatever you need.
If you want to talk, we can talk. If you want company, we can sit in silence.
If you want to get drunk, I'll watch over you. Anything.”
Charlie gave him a watery smile. “OK.”
“I’ll check on you later.”
She nodded. “I’ll text you, so you have my number.”
He already had it, but he smiled. “Great. Talk to you in a bit.”
Reluctantly, he turned to go.
Back in his room he made a call. He might be making a huge mistake interfering, but Simon was bad news. Drugs were bad enough, but Simon had been into partying big time back in high school. After his performance tonight, Donnie’s gut was saying he hadn't changed.
“Hey, Donnie, how’s Toronto?” Mackie answered on the first ring.
“I kinda like it. Saw the Blue Jays beat the Yankees today. That wasn't so good.”
Mackie chuckled on the other end. “You need to convert to a Padres fan.”
“Never. Listen, can I ask a favor?”
“Shoot.”
Donnie smiled. He loved his fucking team. There was never an ask too big.
“Can you run the name Simon Radwell? Radwell Real Estate out of New York.”
“Sure. Who is he and what am I looking for?”
“He’s someone I know from school. Bad news. Now he’s engaged to a friend of mine and looks like he’s still bad news. He’s using for sure. He used to party big time, and he has money and means. Got a bad feeling he’s up to no good, and I don’t want Charlie in the middle of it.”
“Charlie?”
“Charlotte. She’s the sister of my best friend in high school.”
“What does he think?” Mackie asked and Donnie could already hear him tapping on a keyboard.
“He died in a car accident years ago. That’s why I’m looking out for her.”
“Shit. Sorry.” The tapping stopped. “Leave it with me, and I’ll see what I can find. You’re heading back tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah.” He wished he wasn’t.
“OK. If I get something before, I’ll call you. If not, I’ll see you when you get back.”
They chatted for a couple more minutes, then ended the call.
Donnie lay back on his bed. After what he’d witnessed tonight, if he had to get hard proof to make Charlie see just who Simon was, he was going to get it.
Was it overstepping? Probably. Did he care?
No. That asshole did not deserve to breathe the same air as Charlie.
If Nate was here, he would agree with him.
***
OMAR AND HAKIM AZIZ sipped tea at the small table, in the simple concrete house they now called home.
After their last plan to release sarin at an Admiral’s memorial service in San Diego had been foiled, many of their supporters had lost faith in them.
It was time to go back to where it all began and rebuild.
Remind the people of Daram what Reborn were fighting for and bolster their army.
The US military might be hunting them, but they could not put US soldiers on the ground here.
That didn’t mean a team of special operators, like Navy SEALs, wouldn't come.
But they had been careful in coming back.
Had made sure they were not seen, taking routes through the mountains and staying with locals along the way.
Now a respected elder had given them his home to share.
“Asma is well?” Hakim asked.
“Yes, she and my grandson are being looked after in Pakistan.”
“That is good. I know this is not what you are accustomed to.” Hakim gestured to the simple surroundings. Omar looked at the bare walls and dirt floors. Carpets hung over doorways. No. He was used to living in a luxury hotel. The Americans had taken that from him.
“My surroundings do not matter. Our purpose now is to ensure the people of Daram unite with us. Once we take control, we will avenge all that has been done to us. Those that choose not to follow the New Dawning of Allah will meet their demise.”
“Including the American team.”
Omar sipped his tea before answering. “Especially that team. Our patience will be rewarded. It is Allah’s will.”
“Indeed.”
“How is the recruiting coming along?” Omar sat back in his chair, smoothing down his robe.
It was strange wearing the traditional dress, having been in Pakistan for so many years.
At his hotel he had worn suits. Slept in a comfortable bed, ate the best meals.
None of it mattered now. His focus was clear. This was his purpose.
“We have persuaded many local rebels to join us. I have men going through the villages, gathering more. We are strong. We will be ready to make our move soon.”
Omar nodded. “Good. We need to coordinate this carefully.”
“It is all being planned. We will be ready. When it is over, Daram will be ours.” Hakim lifted his tea.
“You believe the team will come?”
“Yes. I have no doubt. This is our time, my brother.” Omar placed a hand on Hakim’s arm. “Allah has guided us here.”