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Authors: K. D. Lamb

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BOOK: The Puppetmasters
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Rashid grabbed her arm and pulled her back onto the seat. “Lovely, as it sounds, that’s not what I had in mind. I was thinking you could make them jealous of each other. If they think they are the only ones you are interested in, they would gladly fight for you.”

Kendall put up her hands. “Hold it! These men are all married. They are not looking for women!”

“Kendall, you are being naïve and shortsighted. These are brutal men. They are always looking for women and maybe even another wife. In their minds, you would be a great addition to their households, although you would probably be killed by the other women or wives.” He chuckled.

“Very funny! So, you want me to draw out each of them separately, make them feel special, and get them to kill each other.”

“That’s exactly what I’d like to have happen.”

With excessive sarcasm she spat out, “No problem! Except I don’t want any part of this. I want to go home. In fact, I demand to be taken home at once … right now! I’m tired, and I want my bed and my clothes. I need to pay bills. I have a life to live. I need to check on my mother!”

She had to admit that at least the little matter of her boyfriend breaking up with her had slipped her mind. After all, she was having an adventure! That’s what she had always told herself when she was in a jam. The best way through it was to view it as an “adventure.” Well, she was certainly having the “adventure” of a lifetime, and she didn’t want any part of it!

She put her head in her hands and looked down, not uttering a word. She would not give this man the pleasure of seeing her break down. She had to pull herself together, now!
Okay, I’ve had my few minutes of a nervous breakdown, and I need to suck it up. You’re strong, and you can do this.

Rashid was uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to comfort her or assure her that his plan would even work. In fact, it could get them both killed. Then he had an idea.

“Kendall, I can get a note to your mother by tomorrow. I can also make sure that your bills are paid.”

She rolled her head to the side and peered up at him. “How? How can you possibly do those things?”

His voice was both soothing and apologetic. “I’m asking you to trust me!”

She just looked at him expectantly. He took it as a sign of encouragement and continued. “Why don’t you write a note to your mother as soon as we get back. We’ll go now. I’ll have it delivered via wire within twenty-four hours.” He scratched his head and then said, “I’ll have money put into your account. I saw that you have your luggage and purse.”

“Yeah, minus my cell phone and laptop!”

“It was necessary. You must understand that. But you have your purse with your financial information, correct?”

“Yes, but how does that help?”

“Just give me your account number, and I’ll have money wired into it.”

Her wheels were turning. “Oh great! I can see it now! I’ll go from the frying pan into the fire. You’ll empty my account.”

“It doesn’t work that way, and you know it! Banks don’t mind if money comes in, but they will make you jump through a few hoops to withdraw it. Like, ensure that the person has authority to withdraw it. Correct?”

She nodded. “Okay, fine. Let’s do it. I want to leave now, so I can write that note for my mother.”

They were back in her room in thirty minutes. Rashid rounded up a sheet of paper for her, and she quickly penned a note to her mother. As she handed him the neatly folded note and provided her bank routing and checking account number, he asked, “Does your mother need money too?”

“You know, you can’t just pay everyone off, and then it’s all fine! No, my mother does not need your money.”

He was getting angry. “Listen, Kendall. I’m going out on a limb for you. This note business is risky and could get me shot, not to mention discovered. My counterparts are going to be angry with the request. But if it means you are willing to help us, they’ll do it. So give me a break!”

“Great! I’m the victim, and you’re making me feel guilty! Get out of my room! I want to sleep. Maybe when I wake up, it’ll all have been just a nightmare. Leave … now!” She lay down on her bed and rolled toward the wall and away from him.

Rashid was furious and stalked out of the room. He was also worried that she wouldn’t be able to go through with his plan. She seemed so terribly distraught, fragile, and vulnerable. Even if she did help, how could he trust that she would hold up her end of the plan?

His father had taught him that Muslims believed that everyone would be tested during their lives. He had often quoted verses from the
Koran
that “God is with those who patiently persevere” and “And be steadfast in patience ….” His mother told him about the trials of the ancient Jewish people as they wandered through the desert on their way to Mt. Sinai. The wisdom that inspired him the most from his mother was that the Christian bible had one hundred and forty-four references to the virtues of patience.

His heart was heavy and his mind raced as he made a mental list of the things he must do in the next day. Getting the note to Kendall’s mother would be tricky. He couldn’t believe that he had promised to do this for her. He wondered if he was going soft. He had never before let a woman interfere in his life. He saw how much trouble they could cause and had made a decision when he was younger not to take them too seriously or get involved until he was ready for a family life. But he bore the responsibility for a nation and maybe even the world. He couldn’t possibly include a woman at this time.

He had to acknowledge, though, that he felt a stirring in his heart for Kendall. He didn’t understand it, and it made him furious. For the first time in his life, he was thinking about something or someone else than his single life’s mission of righting a wrong and destroying Mujtaba Shazeb and his sons.

His goal really centered around the father, and he knew that it wasn’t the sons’ fault their father was such an evil man. But they had grown up in his shadow and held his same violent views. They had been raised to be catered to and obeyed at all costs. Rashid had stepped in many times when he came upon mainly Saaqib meting out some violent punishment for a perceived slight against him or his father. Several times Rashid had not arrived in time, and the poor victim was not able to be saved. Rather than own up to the sadistic deed, Saaqib simply had the body buried, and no one—least of all the victim’s family—ever knew what happened to the poor guy. It particularly sickened Rashid that, once or twice, Saaqib’s prey was a woman who would not submit when he took a liking to her. It was well known around Kabul that if a woman wanted to keep her virtue—not to mention her head—she should stay away from Saaqib and basically cover up so as not to be noticed by him.

Rashid decided that he needed some time to himself to think and plan the next couple of days. He had built a very simple hut nearby within a grove of trees that provided seclusion. Since it was a couple miles from the palace, regular citizens did not venture out there. The farmlands, pasture, and meadows ran the other direction from the palace. This refuge was in a lower part of the lands owned by the president. None of the Shazeb family took long walks or got much exercise outdoors, including riding the horses they so prodigiously collected, and therefore Rashid had the full expectation of privacy.

A little stream ran by about fifty feet outside the front door, and he often sat
there for hours in quiet contemplation, listening to the gentle winds and slow-moving water as it lapped against the smooth rocks and grassy streambed. It helped him focus his energy on the matters of utmost importance and gave him the wisdom and strength he needed for the next step. He would go there now.

But first, he must seek out Paul Fields. Rashid had a request that only Fields could carry out.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

S
PECIAL
A
GENT
A
NTHONY
Z
ANDERS AND
his associates had been working with Orion Premier’s head of security, Eric “Mickey” McDougall, for several days now. They had pored over every personnel file that might be even remotely related to the current crisis, and nothing of significance stood out. They were now sitting around a conference room in the Orion executive offices, reviewing what they knew so far.

Zanders and his crew were planning to return to DC in the morning. He had kept in constant contact with his DC office, and had, for the most part, kept the NSA and his liaisons within the various military agencies up to speed. Electronic eavesdropping had been stepped up. The only thing that stood out was that it was uncharacteristically quiet in the Middle East. The only thing of import was the increased availability of heroin. The distribution seemed to have reached an all-time high, and the conversations there centered on an impending massive production and the need for better, more efficient shipping methods. The product was about to hit the markets within months. While this was all interesting for the DEA and Zanders’ FBI counterparts in drug enforcement, he was frustrated they weren’t any closer to finding answers to their immediate situation, the kidnapping of the two Orion Premier executives.

They had visited each of the families again, including Kendall Radcliffe’s mother and neighbor. The neighbor, Heather Jacobs, promised to let them know if she received any communications regarding Kendall or Orion. She also agreed to check on Kendall’s unit every day and pick up her mail.

The visit to Kendall’s mother, Kathleen Radcliffe, had not gone well. The mother was fragile and became very upset. The more they probed about Kendall’s background and whether she harbored any resentment against Orion or the executives, the more agitated the mother became. The thought that her daughter might be involved in something so heinous and criminal was too much for her to bear. Zanders and Mickey had driven together out to the mother’s place at Redondo. Shortly after arriving, Zanders was regretting his desire to
meet the mother. She was such a nice and decent woman, and she seemed to shrink in size and stature right before their eyes. At first, she rushed around trying to serve coffee and cookies, but then abruptly sat down on the couch to catch her breath when the few known facts were presented to her. It was soon obvious that she knew nothing and would be of no help at all. They promised to keep her apprised of the situation and then quickly backed out of her front door and scurried to their car. As they pulled out of the driveway, Mrs. Radcliffe shut the door and promptly collapsed in a heap.

The phone conversation with the boyfriend, Jeremy Levy, was bizarre. It turned out they had broken up a few days earlier, and Jeremy, while concerned, was not overly disturbed. He did think it was odd that she was missing, but he also said that she was independent and could easily take care of herself. As Zanders figured it, that could be taken several ways. The question was whether she was independent enough to have planned or been part of this kidnapping scheme. Since it had been several days now with no demands for money, none of the investigators knew what the objective was. That part drove them crazy, because they couldn’t then think a step ahead. Knowing who the bad guys were would have been of tremendous help, they thought.

In any event, Levy seemed to backpedal on any committed association with Kendall … minimizing the relationship and chalking it up to nothing more than buddies and weekend sex. It was clear that Jeremy now wanted to distance himself from Kendall and whatever distasteful deed she had done. All he could think of was what his mother might say. On that thought, he was instantly relieved that he had broken up with Kendall. She was clearly not the woman he thought she was. His mother had been right all along. Zanders clued in on Levy’s type right away. Jeremy Levy was a cad and a jerk. He was obviously self-centered and incapable of loyalty. In fact, Zanders pegged him as a probable “momma’s boy.”

Each conversation about Kendall brought more suspicion and intrigue. Her friend and co-worker, Gwen Albertson, appeared to be a staunch ally. She assured the men that Kendall would never be involved in the disappearance of Paul Fields and Glenn Carson; that Kendall was excited about her recent promotion and loved working for Orion Premier Net Services. She vouched for Kendall’s character and strenuously objected at the implication—no, the outright accusation—that Kendall would be capable of such a criminal act.

She admitted that Kendall had been quiet and preoccupied on the day she agreed to travel to DC. Mickey and Agent Zanders knew that was probably due to the breakup with Jeremy Levy, but they kept that information to themselves. Obviously, Gwen did not know of the recent breakup. In their minds, she might not have been the good friend of Kendall’s that she thought she was.

Gwen argued that Kendall had no clue she was going to DC that day. The trip was sudden and unplanned. The two men conceded that was
indeed strange. Had Kendall’s presence been a mere coincidence? But that didn’t make sense either, because the executives rarely traveled together for security reasons, and they almost never had a junior executive in tow. It really defied logic that it would be Kendall, as her job did not overlap with theirs at all. It made more sense, however, once it was discovered they had all stayed at the same hotel in DC. But that’s where the similarity ended. Fields and Carson were testifying on the Hill while Kendall was meeting with Orion’s outside counsel and the FTC. The attorneys who accompanied Fields and Carson to the Hill were from a different law firm with a completely different specialty.

Somehow, Kendall got on the Orion charter flight. But how did she do this? And where the hell were they now?

Agent Zanders’ phone rang. He spoke for a few minutes, scribbled furiously on a notepad, and then hung up. He didn’t speak for a while, and the others around the table looked at him expectantly.

Mickey couldn’t stand it any longer. “Well, who was it?”

“That was my DC office. A $10,000 deposit was just made to Kendall’s checking account via wire transfer.”

“A wire transfer from which bank?”

“At first glance, it looks like a bank in New York, but traces to Paris, London, Switzerland, and Israel.”

BOOK: The Puppetmasters
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