PROLOGUE
AFGHANISTAN
“Fariq, I am worried about our mission,” his Deputy, Aziz, commented from the back seat as the two SUVs raced down the dusty road. “Killing all the teachers and all the girls except for three is the proper thing to do. But I fear problems with the others.”
“Why? Punishing blasphemers brings rewards in the Afterlife,” Fariq replied without turning around in his seat. The SUV bounced on the rugged road traversing the Afghan plain. “Educating women is forbidden. That means the students and teachers are blasphemers. So, what is the problem? We will behead one for the video. Remind believers to follow the Holy Law. What problem could there be?”
“Remember. We must make sure that the selected ones to spare must be virgins. This will cause problems.”
“I do not understand,” he replied turning to the back seat. The two others stared at him, focused on his words. Both looked away. As if they had no interest. “Surely a close examination will determine this. I do not see the difficulty.”
“To make sure of their purity, we will have to do much unveiling. It has been a long winter. The young ones feel the rush of many desires.”
Unable to disguise his interest, one man turned back. Meeting Fariq’s eyes, he averted his glance to the scenery outside, a crimson flush crept up his face.
“Let me think on this,” Fariq replied troubled with this new revelation. He had only considered the benefits brought by the promised money and guns. Also, the attack would announce their return to power. Regain the face they lost with the botched assassination of the girl on the bus. The girl who now mocked them in television interviews. He failed to consider the temptations the raid would thrust on these men who followed him. The sight of so much forbidden flesh might incite them to disobey. Coveting the selected ones, they might mutiny.
Fariq stared at the road ahead as the solution gelled in his mind, “Aziz, you are correct. I did not want to speak of it before as I thought it best to announce it when we arrive. Give our followers a reason to pursue this task with even greater zeal.”
“What are you planning?”
“After we make the promised selection, the men may choose one girl each for themselves. These, they may bring back to the caves. To kill them all would not be just. Sparing some to provide us comfort in our struggle is a just reward for the faithful. Also, serving the men in our band might allow Allah to forgive these girls’ blasphemy. Maybe spare them the agonies of Hell. I am not a Mullah, but that would be the right thing to do.”
“Once again you show yourself as a great leader. I am sorry I questioned your wisdom.”
“No, Aziz,” he replied turning again to the back seat, “You have a great mind. I am glad you thought of this as well. That is why I depend so much on you. In fact. I believe you should announce this as soon as we arrive.”
Aziz his eyes averted as if in contrition now looked up and he beamed with pride. The others in back seat exchanged glances and smiled. “Yes,” Fariq said to himself, “This winter his legend would grow around the campfire. Fariq, the mighty leader in battle, was also a river to his people. Knowing his fighting spirit and generosity, others would flock to join him.
As he gazed out over the rugged terrain, he became aroused. Not just from the joy of doing God’s work, but also from imagining the girls’ selection. This too would bring him pleasure. Entranced by the images racing through his mind, he failed to notice the school ahead on the horizon or the two flashes of light high in the sky. His reverie ended when the two Hellfire missiles destroyed his vehicle and the one behind.
MEXICO CITY
After shoving the unconscious girl off the bed, Rudolpho stumbled to the phone chirping on the dresser. As he picked up the phone, he glanced around the room surveying the damage from last nights little party. He recognized the man’s voice at once. “We finally have an address for the Decker woman.”
“Good. How did you do it after all this time?” Rudolpho inquired.
“She is getting reckless. Draining the account. She also used the balance to get a credit rating then got extensive lines of credit along with several credit cards. Also, she changed post office boxes.”
“But that is why we could not find her before. We could not get information on her address from the post office box.”
“Well, that’s it. Before nothing came to the box besides occasional statements. Now she receives charges from retailers. From these, we got delivery information from the retailers. I will text you the address when I finish the call. This concludes our business.”
“Thank you, my friend. As always you come through for me. I will keep you in my thoughts.” He ended the call. A smile crept across his face as he waited for the text.
This ‘Friend’ would always come through. The man had many contacts and much influence. Also, Rudolpho had him by the balls with what he knew and would never let go. In spite of the man’s elegant Boston accent, Rudolpho knew he would squeal just like anyone when Rudolpho twisted the pliers.
The naked girl moaned as Rudolpho pulled his slacks from beneath where she lay. At least this one was still alive, he thought to himself as he pulled on his pants. He would just call room service later. Leave an extra large gratuity. Let them clean up the mess. They might enjoy this little teenage darling themselves before they took her to where ever.
As he finished dressing, the phone buzzed announcing the text’s arrival. He wrote the information down. Studied it until he knew it by heart before tossing it in the toilet. Next, he turned off the cell phone, removed its card, and dropped it into the commode. He then stomped on the phone before pitching it off the balcony.
After packing his bag, he checked his papers. Satisfied, he placed them in the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
Once a man of respect. Powerful. Feared. Now just another fugitive on the run. For this fall, Rudolpho desired revenge. He killed the husband, but the wife disappeared into the Witness Protection Program run by the Yankees. With a new identity, the woman escaped his wrath. But now he had her new name. Tillie Decker.
He also had her address. A place called Franklin City, Tennessee. Checking his Atlas, he discovered it to be a suburb of Memphis. Now she must pay for his fall.
WASHINGTON DC
Special Agent Robert Johnson sipped his coffee as he watched the morning news. A glance at the wall clock told him he had at least three hours before court. The thought thrilled him. Prosecution of these defendants would resurrect his career. Overcome the stain caused by the failed Pennsylvania raid. A mark he carried like a Puritan brand.
His defendant’s office, the Ark Fund, appeared on the screen. Jordan turned up the volume on the set. He smiled as he contemplated his triumph. The screen switched to images of Marshals and FBI agents. Wearing full battle gear, they charged up the sidewalk of a palatial home in the dark. A voice on the screen narrated:
“A series of predawn raids have led to the arrest of several men funding Terrorists around the globe. It is also believed that the individuals have laundered money for Drug Cartels. The men, Directors of the Ark Fund Management firm had all been out on bail awaiting trial in a significant pension fund scandal. A surprising turn in the Ark Fund pension fraud scandal that was scheduled to begin trial today here in Washington.
Special Agent Thornton from the FBI’s Anti-Terrorism Unit met with reporters after the operation.”
The coffee cup slipped from Johnson’s hand splashing drops on his dress shirt. He stared wide-eyed at the screen.
“What the Fuck!” Johnson screamed at the television. As Thornton appeared on the screen, a reporter shoved a microphone in his face. “What does this do about the pension fund fraud?”
“Those charges might have been a mistake. A follow-up review by my people suggests that the original investigators failed to spot the terrorist and drug activity. They also made significant errors in the pension fund investigation. In fact, those pension funds are intact, and the folk’s relying on that money will have it available to them.”
The coffee cup shattered as Johnson hurled it against the wall.
As he tore his stained shirt off, the buttons flew. He stomped back to the bedroom to change. He punched one number on his cell phone as he brought it to his ear.
“Yes, I saw the God damn news! Get the word out. I want everybody in the office in an hour. If they can’t make it, I’ll transfer `em to North Dakota!”
