Witness to Death (32 page)

John wanted to ask for an explanation, but it seemed every time he asked a question, Omar slowed down his answers.

“Today, the newspapers discovered what they do. The articles are critical of the Americans keeping another secret from the public, as if the citizens of this country need to know everything.”

Omar sucked on the cigarette a bit, the harsh smell of smoke lingering under John’s nose. John wished he had reached across the console, grabbed the cigarette out of his mouth when he had tried to light it. If he could only breathe, he’d shake the man until he told them everything.

“Well by tomorrow afternoon, Ameritech will be out of business.”

John felt his mouth go dry. The ache in his shoulder returned, washing over him like a breaking wave.

“What does all this have to do with Sandler?”

“What does he do?” Omar asked.

“He makes weapons.”

“For whom?”

“According to his daughter, France, Italy, other allies. Nothing major.”

Omar nodded as if that was the most important thing in the world. John began to see a few connections.

Noticing his cigarette had been smoked to the filter, Omar turned toward the water and tossed it.

He shook his head. John thought he seemed remarkably composed.

“Excuse me,” Omar said. “I need to look at something. Don’t run.”

John nodded, not sure what else to do.

The wind whipped off the river, howling between the two docked ferries. John squeezed his eyes shut and imagined he was in a coffee shop. Didn’t help.

Omar stared out across the river. John could hear him speaking, but couldn’t tell what he was saying. He stepped closer and tried to make the words out.

“That won’t do” was all he caught.

He turned his gaze toward the city. He could see the Empire State Building, some docked boats, and the former aircraft carrier
Intrepid,
now a docked air and space museum.

“I used to love this country,” Omar said, turning back toward him. “Where else can you see buildings like this? The cultural cornerstone of the world.”

John stepped around the car and faced Omar. His skin was pocked, but his eyes appeared clear. His nose wasn’t running.

John put his hand on the hood of the car to steady himself. Thabata had gotten control, why couldn’t he?

“The one you met earlier? Jawad? He gave me this opportunity. And my son will be forever in his debt,” Omar said. “This country is the land of opportunity. But the government lies. After 9/11, they promised the war was on terror, not the people of Afghanistan.”

“Wait, why—?” John started.

Omar Thabata kept speaking as if John hadn’t said a word.

“I came here, I wanted to bring my family here.”

“Let me go,” John said. He didn’t want to hear more.

“And once Khalil is here, he can continue the cause. In my honor.” Omar took a deep breath. He was looking out toward the water and the city. “When I first came here, I loved this country. What happened downtown, it wasn’t right. And this country’s response was even worse.”

“I want to save people close to me too.” John wondered if the tremor in his voice was noticeable.

“Promises were made.” For the first time it seemed like Omar had actually heard him.

“That’s not my fault,” John said.

Omar shrugged. “It wasn’t my family’s either.”

John looked out at the Hudson. Chunks of ice floated along, and one of the ferries bumped some as it pulled out of the dock. He flexed his hands into fists.

It was bothering him. Omar seemed like he was in his own world.

“I don’t have to confess my sins to anyone. Allah is always with me.”

“You don’t have to do this,” John said.

Omar Thabata turned to him. He reached into his waistband and pulled out the gun. He used it to point back to the car. John got back inside.

“It’s time to go,” Omar said.

Christine Verderese sidled over to the corner. Callahan was locked in a walk-in storage closet and Sandler was talking to one of his men, a guy wearing jeans and a black sweater. Christine closed her eyes. Couldn’t Sandler see that Callahan didn’t know where Omar was either? Michelle’s torture hadn’t convinced him. Sandler promised all the reports they’d gotten from the inside, said Callahan loved Michelle. If he didn’t break before, a few hours in isolation wouldn’t push him over the edge.

Sandler was just deciding what to do with him. Trying to make a tough decision.

Christine smiled at Sandler.
Whatever you want, Dad.

“Where’s Tony?” Sandler asked her as the other employee walked away.

Her uncle came through the hallway door, as if he’d just sucked down six energy drinks. His eyes were wide and his gaze flicked around the room. His cheeks were sweaty, and he was out of breath. Christine wondered if he was on something.

She hoped not.

He pulled a chair out from the wall and rested his heavy hips in it.

“How’s my daughter?” Sandler said.

Tony blinked.

“She hasn’t said a word,” he said.

“She’s all right?”

He sat back and crossed his hands over his thick stomach.

“You bet. She’s like a toasted marshmallow. Fluffy.” He sucked air through his nose, and Christine could hear a slight whistle.

“It was unnecessary.”

“What was?” Tony asked. Christine knew the tactic. Make him say it. Tony hadn’t hurt Michelle. Christine had. And Robert Sandler had ordered it.

“Hurting Michelle.” Sandler swallowed. “Electrocuting her. We should have gone with the original plan.”

It wasn’t until he said it that Christine realized she loved hearing those words. She pictured Michelle’s body bucking, her eyes going wide. Christine flexed her fists under her crossed arms. A warmth began in her lower stomach and ran through her. Like the first time she slept with a guy.

“Nah. It wasn’t necessary. Right, because just asking a government agent for information is going to work. Just say please and thank you. And you have to admit, it was fun, right?” Tony laughed. “I remember we used to tase stray cats behind the coffee shop. And then send ‘em to the Chinese restaurant with a note. ‘Tomorrow’s Sesame Chicken.’”

Despite the sweat and heavy breathing, Tony looked completely relaxed.

“You hurt my daughter. You told me to do it. You told me it was necessary. You told me Callahan wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut, but clearly he did. But maybe for the right amount. . .”

Tony let the chair slam back down on its front two legs, and held out his palm. The scar was there, the skin whitened against the rest of the reddish hand. Christine’s jaw clench. She pictured Michelle shuddering in the chair again. Her muscles relaxed.

“No he wouldn’t have,” Tony said. “I believe in family. Not money. Not like you. Hurting your own daughter. Who does that?”

“You told me to,” Sandler yelled. “Callahan would have done it to get Michelle back. He would have done it for the money.”

Uncle Tony nodded. “Sure. Sure he would have. You had no choice. You had to show him it would come to this!”

“My own daughter!”

“Why does it matter? She’s alive. She looks good. She got a little tan. Not so pale anymore. And now Callahan knows you’re serious and we can get this moving. Give him another ten minutes, he’ll tell you where Omar is.”

Christine leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. Tony wasn’t acting much smarter than her father.

“I can’t believe I hurt her.”

“Hurt her? How about Christine? You left her for Michelle’s mother. Michelle is proof. You left Christine’s mother—my sister. Didn’t even give the relationship a chance. You left me to raise your
other
daughter.”

Sandler took a step back.

Christine looked away from Tony, staring at a desk, the scratches and doodles on the blotter. Someone had drawn the middle finger.

“Look at the angles,” Tony said. “There is no way out anymore. You’re in. If you want to be free of me, you have to do what I say. That’s the only way all of this—my plan—can work. And you know in the end it’ll benefit you. And Michelle.” He spit the name out. “You talk a good game. Now back it up.”

“How can I trust you?”

“You betrayed us,” Tony said. “I never betrayed you.”

Sandler shook his head and walked out of the room.

Tony laughed, spit dripping from his lip. “This is the best I’ve felt in two years.”

Christine watched him clasp his hands across his stomach and then unclasp them. He looked at his fingernails, then clasped them again.

“I don’t know if this is going to work,” she said. “Your plan.
Dad
’s losing it.”

Tony sighed. “Please, you don’t even know what the plan is, not completely.”

Christine didn’t say anything.

“Anyway,” Tony said. “You’re not working for Sandler. You’re working for me. And, I’m the man.”

Again, Christine waited.

“Come on. Who’s got two thumbs and is completely awesome?” He pointed at himself with both of his thumbs. “This guy.”

“But everything I’m supposed to do, it’s all come from him.”

“I’m pulling the strings here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you really think I’d support a man like Sandler? Please, you know me.”

“That’s what I don’t understand. You’ve always been patriotic. When 9/11 happened, you wanted to enlist the mob in the military.”

Tony leaned closer. Christine could smell the peppermint on his breath.

“Exactly. But this—this could be the greatest head fake in the history of my business. This is exactly the distraction we need.”

“For what?”

Tony said, “Just keep following orders. I’ll do the rest.”

“What about Callahan? You really think he’s going to give up Omar?”

Tony shook his head. “I doubt it. Did you see the way his hands were shaking when you brought him back here? He’s doing the little things just so he can keep Michelle safe. He doesn’t even know where Omar is. Your father is an idiot. We should have killed him when we killed Ashley. But since your dad thought we could use Callahan, I thought I’d keep your dad happy for a while. So you’ll keep an eye on the agent.”

“Just keep an eye on him. That’s all you want me to do right now?”

“Give it another couple of hours. Just to keep Sandler honest. Then we’ll ice him.” Tony smiled. “Get it? With the snow outside? Ice him?”