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  The Jijis conversations were loud, and they were not happy with the tall Jiji ordering them to flank the enemy while he stayed behind.

  “Where the hell did he go off too anyway?” grumbled one of them.

  “Right and where in the hell are these damn rebels?” asked another.

  “I don’t know, but I’m gonna love stringing those bastards up.”

  Meeks turned to Bassett and shook his head. Every word of this conversation was pure comedy gold. It was like listening to a bad sitcom with terrible actors. These guys had no idea what they were up against and acted accordingly. Their faux bravado would be gone in an instant if Meeks stood up. He yearned to do it but restrained himself because Bassett was right about not giving away their position.

  The Jijis walked right on by and Meeks was about to stand up when more voices pierced the woods. They were coming in from behind them. Meeks turned his head and saw the tall Jiji leading an even larger group right towards them.

  Chapter 8

  Washington D.C.

  Major Green spent all morning thinking about the voicemail Reed had left; wanting him to keep quiet about the shooting. Adding that to the way Reed had the garage cleaned up spoke volumes about him. He was a calculating man, and an attempt on his life would only expose a weakness. By pretending the shooting never happened, he could feign strength and demonstrate that no one could lay a finger on him. Implying that his men took out the shooters before it even began, like it was nothing; so don’t even bother trying it again.

  Deep down though, the man must be going out of his mind with rage and fear to know that his longtime ally had tired of him. He would have to start shoring up his support and plan a counterattack on Perozzi.

  Green had little doubt Perozzi was angry with Reed because of the recordings and the way he tried arresting Stormy. However, Green didn’t think that was enough to get Perozzi too riled up. Something else needed to happen to get Perozzi to act decisively against Reed. Green wanted them both fighting each other not just one of them. He wanted all their resources involved and to force everyone out in the open. Green wanted it to be the talk of the town. It was the only way to show everyone in the district that these two were vulnerable.

  What would get at Perozzi? He was a proud man but was he thin skinned? He was old and liked having younger women hanging off him. He worked out and was in decent shape but still, he was old, and he knew it.

  Green tapped a pencil on his desk trying to come up with something. It had to insult Perozzi but also have him think Reed had something to do with it. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to see his secretary, Grace.

  “Sir, I’m going to lunch. You want me to pick up anything?”

  Green remembered he had a lunch appointment with his friend Sam and waved her off. He headed outside and walked down the block to start his surveillance detection route, or SDR, he’d been using to shake off any tails that might still be following him.

  Jacob Gibbs, the former FBI man, had instructed him on the tradecraft, and he had employed it in his routine so often that it had become second nature.

  After conducting his SDR, Green arrived at the small lunch counter where Sam was waiting. The place was crowded, and they would have to keep their conversation to a minimal.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

  “No problem. I already ordered for ya.”

  “Thanks,” said Green, sitting down.

  “So, how did it go?” asked Sam as they purposely talked in vague terms.

  “Better than expected.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  “Our new friend did well.”

  “Did she?”

  Green couldn’t help but break out into a smile.

  Sam noticed. “You like her, don’t cha?”

  “Yeah, and once you see her you’ll know why?”

  Sam leaned back on the stool and patted John on the back. “My buddy finally has taken an interest in someone. Is this a two-way street?”

  “I think so, but I can’t say for sure. We haven’t exactly been in a normal situation together, so it’s hard to say.”

  “What about her friend?” asked Sam referring to Kyle Gibbs.

  “Just friends as far as I can tell.”

  Their food arrived, and they continued with small talk while they ate. Within twenty minutes, they finished their food and headed outside away from attentive ears. As they walked through a park, Green caught Sam up on everything that had transpired. He fist-pumped the air hearing about Reed’s reaction but was most interested in Stormy’s participation in the kidnapping of Reed’s men.

  “She really took down one of them?”

  “Yeah, she can handle herself.”

  “And she smart-mouthed Reed?”

  Green nodded.

  “Wow, John, I’m totally intrigued by this girl. I cannot wait to meet her.”

  Green raised an eyebrow, which Sam noticed.

  “Oh don’t worry I won’t make any moves on her. I promise.”

  “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “John, that hurts. I wouldn’t do that to my friend. Besides, I’ve got this other girl that I’ve started dating.”

  “Which one is this?”

  “Oh, someone new. You don’t know her, but I think this is the one. We really have a connection.”

  Green shook his head at Sam who either didn’t like being tied down or just hadn’t found the right girl. “Can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Hey, if you want to, I’ll see if we can double date.”

  “Double date? I don’t even know if Stormy likes me yet.”

  “All the more reason to get out on a double date. I’ll tell ya if she likes ya. Just leave it up to me.”

  Green shook his head knowing Sam can be overzealous with women.

  They exited the park and passed by a bus stop where Green noticed a small poster pasted on the side of the shelter. He walked over to it and saw it advertised a band.

  Sam came up from behind him. “You into this kind of music, John?”

  “No I’m not but look at this poster,” said Green running his hand up and down on the poster.

  “What about it?”

  “It’s really glued on there good.”

  “And?”

  “We don’t see a lot of graffiti in the district do we?”

  “No, we don’t.”

  “They don’t dare with the way things are.”

  “Yeah, they’ll get thrown in jail,” said Sam noticing the smile growing on Green’s face. “I know that look, John. Whaddya got in mind?”

  “A way to insult Perozzi in front of the whole district.”

  Sam started to understand and nodded his head.

  “Just got to find ourselves an artist,” said Green.

  “Someone who shares our views and we can trust.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard. I’m sure there’s plenty of artists who hate what’s going on.”

  “Some cash should help inspire them,” said Sam.

  “Let’s bring it up at our meeting tonight.”

  Street art had a way of making a point and if done right can cause quite a sensation. With the right message, it has a unique way of getting attention. Graffiti is illegal, which makes it have an even bigger impact. Some people view it as art while others as vandalism. What he had in mind would no doubt be considered vandalism. Perozzi was his target, and he just found a way to embarrass him.

  Chapter 9

  The limo pulled out of the Saudi embassy and took a right on New Hampshire Avenue. Mordulfah had just made a deal with his uncle for experienced soldiers and had done so with superb negotiating skills. Thomas wasn’t sure if he should comment on the way Mordulfah dealt with his uncle. Thomas had a newfound respect for the way he handled the old man and wondered if he did all his negotiations like that. Thomas must have been staring at him too long be
cause the prince took notice.

  “What is it, Thomas?”

  He turned red but took a breath and decided to ask him. “Your Highness, the way you handled that negotiation was quite brilliant and I am in awe.”

  Mordulfah looked pleased with the compliment.

  “What I was wondering, is that the way you handle all negotiations?”

  Mordulfah stared at him in silence the same way he stared at his uncle. The intensity of his stare was both impressive and eerie. Thomas found himself starting to fidget.

  “Uncomfortable isn’t it?”

  Thomas nodded at the revelation.

  “People don’t like silence, and if you can control yourself while staring someone down, you’ll achieve the upper hand.”

  “Wow! I don’t remember learning something so valuable in all of my four years of college.”

  “Nor do I and I went to Oxford. It is something you learn in life. I learned some of it from the man, we’re going to go see next.”

  “May I ask who?”

  “Gerald Perozzi. He’s America’s puppet-master and controls all the strings of power. He’s the one I deal with, and while we’re in town, I need to pay my respects. He’ll want an update, even though I know he’s well aware of our current situation. He has ears everywhere.”

  Thomas looked out the window to admire as much of Washington as he could. He knew there would be no sightseeing, but he no longer cared because he had learned about Mordulfah’s plans and couldn’t wait to tell Captain Winters. They needed to know he was sending experienced men to fight them. He hoped they were going to meet this colonel before they left so he could learn even more.

  The limo pulled into what looked like a mansion but was a converted office building. The chauffeur parked and opened the door. Mordulfah didn’t say anything to him as he exited the car and figured he had the same instructions as before. Be available and don’t say anything. Thomas laughed to himself thinking it was like being a fly on the wall.

  The receptionist greeted Mordulfah in friendly terms as if they knew each other, so Thomas figured she’d worked here for some time. She escorted them to a side room with a large open entrance where you could still see the reception area. The room had hardwood floors with an area rug in the middle. The papered walls had heavy wooden oak trim, which gave the place a sturdy appearance. She offered Mordulfah a drink, which he declined. Thomas stood off to the side and figured he was not to sit down. He never saw Wali ever sit down, ever, when he was around him.

  After a few minutes, Thomas heard some laughter and turned his head to see an older man walking with Albert Sauer, the man who had met with Mordulfah on the tarmac. Why was he here? Thomas looked out of his peripheral vision to witness Mordulfah pretend not to know the man. He figured the old man must be Perozzi and watched as he acknowledged Mordulfah’s presence. Albert Sauer didn’t, and it finally dawned on Thomas why. He was Mordulfah’s inside man, which is why he met him in secret out on the tarmac. Thomas again had to control his emotions as he realized just how cunning Mordulfah was. He didn’t take any chances on not knowing what was going on and wanted to have the upper hand.

  Perozzi said goodbye to Sauer and then came inside where Mordulfah patiently waited. He looked at Thomas and then Mordulfah expecting to be told who the stranger was with him.

  “This is Thomas, he is filling in for Wali whom I have doing other things.”

  Thomas wasn’t sure if he should extend his hand out but decided to wait to see if Perozzi was forthcoming. He tried to act like Wali and gave him a slight bow. The old man then turned and invited them into his office.

  Thomas began to follow them, but Mordulfah turned and told him to wait here. His heart sunk as he hoped to learn more about his business. Thomas turned around to go back to the side room. He was about to sit down when the receptionist asked if he like something to drink.

  “Don’t worry you’ll have time, I’ve seen their meetings take over an hour and never less than thirty minutes.”

  “Well, thank you. I’m Thomas, by the way.”

  “Hello, Thomas, I’m Alicia. This your first time?”

  “It is. It’s actually my first time in Washington.”

  “Oh, how exciting for you. Where are you from?”

  “Nashville.”

  She gave him a curious look. “You don’t speak with much of a southern accent.”

  Thomas laughed. “My parents are from Pakistan and heavily influenced my diction. They didn’t mean too, but they did.”

  “Well, there you go. Now, what will it be?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Drink?”

  “Oh, yes, do you have Coke?”

  “Coming right up.”

  Thomas watched the receptionist scoot down the hall. He liked her bubbly personality and thought it matched her small size, which he figured was about five-foot-two without the heels she wore. The pixie hairstyle went well with her round face and kept her looking young, even though she was probably in her late thirties.

  She came back and handed him a glass full of ice and cola.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” queried Alicia, “but how did you get to Michigan from Nashville?”

  “I graduated college with a degree in finance and was offered a job. There weren’t many other prospects at the time, so I took a chance.”

  “How bad are things there?”

  Thomas thought her line of questioning was strange. Didn’t she know what her boss was doing to the country? He looked at her and realized she was just a receptionist and wasn’t on the inside of things so to speak. “Most people have left the state, but there are still many in the area.”

  “I’m always so inquisitive because we’re so insulated here in the district. Heck, if you didn’t know any better, you’d never even know we’re in a war.”

  “I’ve noticed that. I was surprised to see so many cars on the road with actual traffic jams. Do you have any food shortages here?”

  Alicia slowly shook her head. “No, not really. I mean sometimes, yeah, but for the most part, you can get what you want. It’s way more expensive, that’s for sure.”

  Thomas took a sip of his drink. “I’m fortunate I work for who I do because I don’t know how everyone else is doing it.”

  “Gardens I suppose,” said Alicia not really giving it much thought.

  Thomas could see she didn’t lack for anything. Her hair was perfect and looked like she just had her nails manicured. He figured Perozzi paid her well but wondered if the rest of Washington was like this. He turned his thoughts to his parents and was glad they lived in the south. He hadn’t talked to them in about six months, but during his last call, they told him they had stocked up on plenty of food. They lived in an upscale-gated neighborhood, which kept them safer than most. Now that he’d seen Washington, he knew this was the ultimate place to be. All the influential people worked and lived here, which almost guaranteed you could get anything you needed, even during times of war.

  Chapter 10

  Jackson Michigan

  Reese slid out of bed by mid-morning still tired from last night’s operation in Port Huron. She had put too much pressure on her leg and was feeling the pains today. She managed to swing her feet onto the linoleum floor and decided to take another shower to wash off any remaining filth from the river. The cold water would also help numb the aches and pains that were coursing through her body.

  She gritted her teeth and hopped into the cold water, which caused goose bumps to explode across her skin. “At least the water is clean,” she said to herself. After a couple of minutes, she got used to it and washed around her wounds before rewashing her hair.

  She got out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror looking at her wounds. The leg had an entry and exit wound and didn’t look nearly as bad as her arm, which was missing a chunk of flesh. A yellowish blue bruise surrounded the stitches and even though she had full mobility, the whole area was still delicate to the touch, even more s
o after having rolled around on it last night.

  She remembered the slow-motion realization that she’d been shot. The first thought that goes through your head is at any moment you could actually die. An odd thought when you are in the middle of a gunfight but being struck with a bullet gives it more credence. Then the pain hits you, and you know you’ve never felt such pain. Never even imagined it could be so bad, which is quite a statement for someone who had been brutalized over the course of ten days. Besides the sexual abuse, she had to endure, some of the cops were downright cruel to her. A few would beat her with a variety of instruments from wooden paddles to leather belts sometimes to the point of drawing blood.

  She shook her head at the memory and turned to the side to look at the bruising from the blow she’d received from the cop she had killed during the hospital attack. He had punched her ribcage after slamming her down on the conference table. The size of the blue and red bruise had shrunk considerably, and it didn’t bother her as much as it had. She tilted her head from side to side realizing she had been lucky none of her injuries had been life-threatening. She debated on whether she should have Doctor Lunsford examine them. She didn’t want her wounds to get infected from who knows what was in the river and was glad she’d been taking her antibiotics.

  Deciding to speak with him, she dressed in a yellow cami and a pair of jean shorts, grabbed her red crutch and headed downstairs. Thankfully, she had only one flight of stairs to hobble down, because even though the shower had helped considerable, she was still sore.

  The cold river had been helpful in keeping the pain at bay, but it had caught up to her on the way home. She and Amber drove back to Jackson by themselves with the heater blowing at full blast.

  She laughed at how no one wanted to drive back with them with the heater going. The air did get stuffy enough that they had to crack open the windows for fresh air. It took nearly an hour before the heater had any real effect on their wet clothes. It was then the pain started coming back. The leg hurt the most as she had been walking on it without using her crutch. Between the adrenaline, the numbness and her resolve, she managed to ignore the pain while fighting.