Wait. Was this his contact? From Colonel Rahbar? Or was he sent by the Hammer? How did this make any sense? Zahir moved, quick as a striking snake, grabbed the young man around the neck, pressed the Walther to his temple.
He whispered in the boy’s ear, “Don’t turn around, and don’t struggle, or I’ll have to shoot you, and I’m not in the mood to kill a child.”
The young man stiffened. “I am not a child. I have done my job and done it well for six years now. I am here to give you a message.”
Zahir loosened his hold around his neck. “Speak.”
He drew in a deep breath, and when he spoke Zahir heard cool authority, realized this young man wasn’t an amateur, not a simple messenger. Despite his seeming youth, he knew what he was doing, knew the stakes, knew well Zahir could kill him if wanted to, yet he’d come and he seemed calm and in control. Zahir was impressed.
The young man said, “As you can see, I did not bring the plans, I could not.”
“And why do you not have my plans?”
“My asset texted me that since the explosion at Bayway Refinery and the loss of life, he is no longer safe. He thinks he is being watched. He fears that if he provides these plans to you, the FBI will find out and take him. He claims he must stop everything he is being paid well to do for us and cover his tracks. And, he told me, he is sorry to let us down.” The kid snorted.
“I could not move him because he is hysterical, the weak-kneed ass, and has forgotten what he owes us. Colonel Rahbar has instructed me to tell you that you must find another way to accomplish your mission.”
He leaned against the young man’s ear and whispered, “Find another way when this one is so perfect? No, I don’t think so. I cannot believe you are allowing this puling coward to tell you what he will and will not do, to give you orders, to give Colonel Rahbar orders.”
“He refuses to act and I cannot obtain the blueprints myself. If I could I would, but I cannot. The Hammer agrees, you must find another way.”
“I see, so Rahbar and the Hammer feel this fool is too valuable to threaten or kill.”
“I believe so.”
Again Zahir whispered against his ear. “Here is what is going to happen. I will see to it myself that your American traitor does as he was paid to do. Paid very, very well, I assume. You will now take a message directly to him from me, from Zahir Damari. Where does this man work?”
“In Baltimore.”
“Excellent. You will tell this asset of yours that if he does not bring the plans to a diner called Silver Corner in the Inner Harbor at precisely ten o’clock tomorrow morning, I will not only destroy him, I will blow up his world. Do you think he will believe me?”
The young man’s voice was no longer flat, emotionless; it was filled with eagerness. “I did not agree with Colonel Rahbar or the Hammer, so I will gladly tell him. If he does not believe you, he is a fool as well as a coward and he would deserve what you will do to him.”
“In case he isn’t convinced, tell him I am a great fisherman and that I quite enjoy gutting fish. Now go, do not look over your shoulder. We wouldn’t want you turning into a pillar of salt.”
The young man drew a deep breath when Zahir lifted the gun from his temple. He turned and walked away, his footsteps sending the rats scurrying, the only sound in the quiet morning. He did not look back. Did Zahir hear him whistling? A boy after his own heart.
25
PAWN TAKES C3
One Observatory Circle
Washington, D.C.