Bassim entered the kitchen and had to watch his step to keep from slipping in the blood pooled on the tile floor. “Wake her!”
The man standing over Asma’s body pointed at her with his bloody knife. “She stopped screaming a while ago. I’m not sure she still lives.”
Bassim spit on his hand and held it to her face. He waited a moment then nodded to the man with the knife. “She breathes. That means she lives. WAKE HER!”
The man turned and dug through a small bag. He pulled out a glass vial and cracked it then waved it under her nose.
Asma coughed and gagged and turned her head from the ammonia salts. Her hand went to her abdomen and she pressed into the blood soaked gown. The scream that followed would have given a normal man chills, but Bassim was no normal man; he took great pleasure in inventing painful ways for others to die.
He jerked her head up by the hair and turned her eyes to his. “Where is the money?”
Asma’s mouth opened and closed a few times but no words formed. Her eyes fluttered and Bassim shook her head, bouncing it off of the stainless steel prep table. “I asked you a question! Where is my money?”
“Bassim!” He looked up to see one of his men holding a phone. “Her banks are on this.”
Bassim took the phone and scrolled through the apps. “Which one has my money?”
Asma’s eyes rolled back and her head lulled to the side. Bassim shook with rage then pointed to the man with the knife again. “Bring her back.”
He waved the salts under her nose again but Asma lay still. The man pressed the ammonia salts directly into her bloody nostril, yet the woman didn’t move. He looked up to Bassim and shook his head. “She is gone.”
Bassim yelled and held the phone high above his head, about to throw it when it chimed again. He squeezed the black box in his hand, wanting to crush it to powder when it chimed again. Then again. And again.
He lowered the phone and pressed the button, bringing the screen to life once more. He scrolled through the notifications and saw the emails sent from an unknown sender.
Out of curiosity, he punched the button and opened the documents. As his eyes scanned the content, his face twisted first in rage, then in confusion. He stepped back from the bloody body and stepped down into the family room.
His eyes continued to scan the documents while his men gathered around. “What is it, Bassim?”
“What are you reading?”
Bassim lowered the phone and turned slowly, his face unreadable. “The Americans did this.”
25
Langley, VA
DERIC WALKED BACK out to the truck for the fifth…or was it the sixth time? He sighed heavily as he dug through the rear boxes, his escort standing just feet behind him. “I know I’ve said this more than once but if you want to take a smoke break, feel free.”
The guard ignored him and continued to stare at him, his face unreadable behind the dark tinted sunglasses. He keyed his coms and stated the obvious. “Ya know, these Cerberus Security guys are real assholes.”
Gregg chuckled in his ear. “You’re sounding like a broken record.”
Deric sighed again and pulled a plastic crate toward him. He dug through it then crawled into the back of the truck. He opened the steel door separating the rear of the truck with the mid portion of the cargo area. The guard stiffened and stepped forward, his weapon trained on him as he shifted items near the door. When Deric stepped back through carrying a black box, the guard kept his weapon trained on him, his stance obviously at the ready.
Deric paused and glared at the man. He lowered the box and gave the man a hateful sneer. “I’m this close to calling my buddy back and getting the hell out of Dodge.” He hopped down, slid the electronic device across the floor of the truck, and flipped it open, showing the guard the innards.
“I swear to Christ, you pull this GI Joe bullshit with me again and I’m leaving you here with your dick in your hand.”
“It’s protocol—”
“We’ve had this discussion!” Deric yelled, his brows knitting together in anger. “If you want your security systems back up and running, then you have got to stop advancing on us every time we reach for a fucking tool kit!” He jabbed his finger at the man, tempting him to do something stupid.
“What’s the problem?”
Both men turned to see a Cerberus uniformed man standing in the rear doorway. Deric picked up the black box and glared at the guard. “I’m not sure. Is there a problem out here?”
The guard stepped back, his face stoic. “No problem, sir.”
Deric pulled the door shut on the truck and turned for the door of the building. “I’m serious man. Knock off the SEAL act or I’m pulling the plug on your repairs.”
The guard said nothing as they stepped back into the dimly lit hallway.
Deric used the moment to reiterate his aggravation. “You’d think that with all of the vetting that our company went through just to have access to these systems they’d call off the dogs long enough for us to complete a fucking work order.” He hefted the heavy box up the short flight of stairs and turned for the elevator at the end of the hall. “But no. It’s bad enough we have to come out here after working hours, but we can’t even take a piss without one of you fellas up our ass, checking our prostate.” The guard mashed the call button for the elevator and Deric continued to fume.
As the doors opened he stepped inside then turned to the guard. “Tell me this, Rambo. If they want to be so damned paranoid, why didn’t they invite one of their IT guys to be present while we made the
