14. The Exchange
The Exchange
Cameron wore an anxious smile; he felt something was off.
The men inside looked at them with utter disdain as they entered.
Cameron’s footsteps suddenly became sluggish and his throat dry.
And for some odd reason, upon entering the warehouse, he began to have fond memories of his youth.
The other party looked Middle Eastern to Cameron, with neatly cut beards, and dressed in tourist clothes you see at the airport.
One stayed by the door, and in front of them were four more.
The floors were cracked and splintered like a woodworker’s hand after a long day.
There was little light except for that which flooded in from the single window overhead.
And in the rear, a large bay door was slightly ajar.
“I’m here to see Samir,” Jason said, sizing up the men. They were all armed with Chinese-made, fully automatic submachine guns.
“That you are my friend. You look well-rested and in good health,” Samir said. One of his men stepped aside and approached Jason but stopped short of grabbing the bag.
“You as well. It’s good to see you again,” Jason said.
“Yes. My friends tell me you were successful in our little endeavor,” Samir said, approaching the table.
“Somewhat. I followed your messages and did as you asked. But there was a problem when we entered the facility,” Jason said, looking behind him.
“Problem? What sort of problem?” Samir said, scratching his face. “You weren’t seen, were you?”
“No! Not at all,” Jason said, stuttering. “We went in and left without anyone seeing us. The problem was that we couldn’t download anything at all.”
“No? Then why are you here?”
“It’s not our fault. The systems were undergoing maintenance; out of all the days for it to happen, it was that day.
So, the computers were all locked away. Shut off or sealed behind cages.
The servers were down, too. I tried —,” Jason said, stepping forward.
“We tried several of the machines. We connected the device you gave us that automatically downloads information from computers and the big cabinets like you said, but nothing worked.”
“We? And they are? I don’t recall meeting them or my men mentioning them,” Samir said, with a scowl.
“They are my associates. It was their idea to split up and search the facility for anything we could bring back. One of us stayed with the security guard while the other two quickly searched the research area; that’s where we found it. Plugged into one of the computer towers,” Jason said.
“What did you find?” Samir said, his eyes widening. “What did you bring me?”
“A hard drive. Possibly filled with all sorts of valuable information, but I wouldn’t have been able to grab it without their help,” Jason said.
He approached the table and placed the bag gently on it.
“I just want you to know they are grateful for the opportunity to work with you. So, about the cash that was promised?”
Jason pointed to the SUV with a nervous chuckle. Kevin remained silent. He glanced back at the man guarding the door, holding a Chinese-made UZI, and slyly gripped his sidearm.
“Cash? What’s this word?” Samir said, shaking his wrist and glancing at his expensive watch. He towered over Jason and all of his men; and dressed flashier, too.
“Are you serious? The money you promised,” Jason said, picking up the bag. He shook it at him and threw it back onto the table. “Remember?”
“Ah? The money! I remember. Calm, calm, my friend, it is a joke,” Samir said.
His men behind him erupted in laughter soon after.
But no one brought out any cash. It looked like, at least to Cameron, that they were being set up.
He took a step towards Jason, and immediately two of the other men raised their weapons at him and shouted in Arabic.
“There is a slight problem, however, Mr. Jason. You were told to bring back the device I gave you, filled with plenty of valuable information. Instead, you bring me back an empty device and this; this hard drive with whom knows what inside. Have you seen inside it?”
“Whoa! Wait, hold on,” Jason said. He backed up a bit and crossed in front of Cameron. “There’s no need for this, okay? We got something for you; I know it’s not what you wanted, but it’s something. It’s there. Just pay us what you promised, and we’ll leave.”
“Ok. Where is it? Show me?” Samir said. He had a heavy accent when he spoke English.
And as the two spoke, those behind him traded words in French, albeit it seemed different to Cameron, who had learned some French at school; they mixed words from a different language with their French. Made it difficult to understand.
“It’s in the bag; it’s yours. I’ll take it out and you bring the cash and I’ll show you the hard drive,” Jason said.
Cameron was becoming increasingly concerned; he knew that there was no drive in that bag.
And even if it was, that’s not what they wanted in the first place; it was foolish to think they’d accept anything less than what they asked.
Cameron slowly reached for his gun and placed his hand on it.
“You’re Arab?” Kevin said. The room fell silent. Samir took off his sunglasses, folded them, and neatly placed them in the shirt’s front pocket.
“It seems there’s a problem,” Samir said.
“Naw dawg! I didn’t mean it like that. I got no beef with Muslims,” Kevin said, with a half-smile.
“The problem is,” Samir said, and paused for a moment. “I don’t have the money.”
Suddenly, he pulled out a chrome-plated pistol that was neatly tucked in his back, aimed it at Jason’s head, and pressed the trigger.
Cameron froze in place. The blood from his friend showered him like a gardener watering his plants; he became unresponsive.
Shocked and covered in his friend’s blood, he took a shivering breath in and softened his grip on the gun.
Kevin yelled out in horror, pulled out his gun, but before he could let out a shot, was gunned down himself by the man behind him.
The rapid fire tore a hole in him so wide it almost detached his arm.
Cameron was the last to fall, as the other men unloaded their weapons on him; he turned and collapsed besides Jason.
His last breaths spent calling out his name.
“Enough!” Samir said, holding his hand high. He reached down and grabbed the bag off the table and turned to his men. “It’s almost two; our flight leaves soon.”
“But Samir! What about the bodies?” said one of his men.
“Leave them; we must go now.”
“And the drive —” asked another man.
“We were told not to touch it! Now get in!” Samir said.
His men followed him to the SUVs and hopped in, save for the one who opened the bay doors in the back. The three friends lay dead where they fell; their blood pooled, formed a ring, and broke towards the door, where it seeped through to the outside as the men fled from the scene in their vehicles.