The Deadly Duo
Chapter 20
Akmed and Abdul worked together as a team; a hit team to be more precise. They’d been summoned to the Seychelles by Vlad to clean up some loose ends not of his own making. They’d easily taken up residence in his house two days before, right under the noses and droopy eyes of the watchers outside.
They were experienced assassins for Al-Qaida and between the two of them had racked up 22 killings for the cause over the past three years. They were ruthless and fearless mujahedeen warriors solely dedicated to the reactionary brand of the Islamic faith and its jihadist beliefs. Neither was concerned about dying as martyrs since they looked forward to the many virgins awaiting them in heaven.
They’d followed Vlad’s instructions to the letter. Lights were turned on and off at appointed times, the radio played too loud on occasion and the window shades raised and lowered for desired effect. It was all for the benefit of the nosey watchers. The intended takeaway message was that Vlad was still in residence.
They patiently went about their business of standing watch and praying five times a day to Allah, laying out their prayer rugs in the direction of Mecca. They kept up the routine of four hours on watch and four hours off, spelling each other to stay awake and alert. It was a deadly waiting game now.
They understood this was a dangerous mission they’d likely not survive, a suicide operation and nothing more to them. Their brethren had given their lives many times over in similar manners so it seemed it was now their time to die. Allah Akbar!
***
It was actually a bit chilly with the wind blowing though our open-top Mini Moke. We were on time and hoped the others would be too. Our rendezvous spot was located about a half mile from Vlad’s house. The cops would take up their positions 15 minutes before Pet and I entered the residence. We expected the early hour to give us the advantage of surprise and reduce the risk of being shot.
Radio chatter was kept to an absolute minimum in the event Vlad was monitoring the unencrypted channels with a scanner. A couple of errant squeaks and squawks between the cops wouldn’t likely draw his attention. Moreover, he was probably fast asleep; at least that’s what we prayed for.
We met up with Jimmy and agreed he’d have the cops take up their position as it was almost first-light. We donned our vests and Pet removed her gun and checked it. It was a Russian made Makarov, reputed to be among the best nine millimeter pistols in the world. She then affixed a silencer to the barrel and racked a round into the chamber. She seemed to be comfortable with the weapon and that was reassuring.
I did the same with my Sig, sans sound suppressor. It was now do or die time and I hoped for the former rather than later outcome.
We crept up to the backdoor to the residence and waited a few minutes until the sun started to come up. When the light was right, we then made our move. I easily breached the door with a small pry bar and entered the kitchen. Pet followed afterwards and covered my position. That’s when all hell broke loose!
Shots rang out and barely missed us or so I believed. I saw someone come around a corner and it wasn’t Vlad to be sure. I pulled the trigger twice and put one round into the center of his forehead. Jeez, I couldn’t have done that if I’d tried! I was actually aiming for the center of his chest as we’d been taught at the DSS Training Academy at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center in Glynco, Georgia. Go for the largest body mass was the instructor’s constant mantra for the new recruits. Okay, I thought the guy had a big head!
It seemed Vlad had left us a little housewarming gift of a lethal nature, a deadly trap. I strongly suspected he’d chickened out and flown the coop sometime ago. However, the question remained: how did he know we’d found him? Obviously, there was a leak somewhere in the witting ranks. Who and why could it be, I wondered, but not for long.
Pet was lying on the floor and her body was motionless. Oh God, say it’s not so, but she was dead by the looks of things. But her twitching body then gave me hope. Fortunately, she was breathing and started coughing. I looked over her body for signs of a gunshot wound and couldn’t find any. I then gently rolled her over onto her back and discovered the source of the problem. She’d taken a hit to her Kevlar vest and it had knocked the wind out of her! She’d be okay, but would be sore as hell for awhile. She needed to be x-rayed to see if any ribs had been broken by the impact of the bullet to her chest. I thought I might do an initial exam, but thought better of the idea. She might not appreciate my attention to her details.
While distracted by Pet’s condition, I still caught an early morning shadow on the far wall by someone approaching down the hallway. He mustn’t have had time to shave, I thought. I quickly moved to the opposite side of the same wall and waited. The commotion outside the front door would tell him that more help was on the way and his situation was futile. Of course, he’d never surrender because it wasn’t in his lexicon of Muslim extremist words. No, he’d go out with a fight to the death knowing his ilk.
As he turned the corner, I gave him a sharp slap on his face with my pistol. It momentarily stunned both of us. He reeled about in pain and I couldn’t believe my good luck. I then grabbed his gun hand and stuck the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger. Blood and brain matter flew everywhere as he dropped to the floor. The cops finally entered and began a room to room search, but there were no more bad guys about. The whole shebang was over in less than four minutes.
“Dick, are you okay?” Pet weakly asked while still lying on the floor.
“Yeah, I’m good, what about you?”
“I’m sore, as hell, but otherwise intact as best I can tell.”
Jimmy rushed to Pet’s side to see how she was doing. Chivalry had never gone out of style in the Diplomatic Security Service. I was surprised he didn’t try to pat her down, confusing her with the bad guys who were now both deceased. At least he could claim that was the frisky case when she later filed a sexual assault suit against him. He’d aver he’d done it in the heat of the moment and he’d be telling the truth. I could see his tail wagging every time he looked her way.
Okay Jimmy, knock it off! You’re shit out of luck, buddy boy. Me too for that matter, but wondered if I underwent a gender reassignment she’d change her mind. However, I wasn’t about to give up Mr. Johnson and the twins for less than a sure bet. If I did, she’d still have a leg up on me when it came to the scissoring thing. It would be a grind, but I was confident I could master the technique.
Sometimes those who serve and protect suffered from premature separation anxiety.
The bodies of the John Does didn’t have a single piece of identification on them. My guess was they’d stashed it elsewhere and planned to retrieve the items before they left. The intelligence analysts would have a field day trying to ID two swarthy looking Arabs of indeterminate age named John Doe. Maybe they’d get lucky, but I didn’t think so.
“Looks like one guy swallowed his gun and committed suicide. He seems terribly depressed to me, dead too.” Jimmy laughed at his self-inflicted, tasteless joke. However, he was an astute investigator and an excellent judge of my character. I valued his insights as to what had kinda transpired.
“The other guy shot Pet and I returned fire, a simple case of self defense.”
“Yeah, pretty obvious as to what happened here. I think your fairytale will hold up with the local authorities so there’ll be no embarrassing questions, but you might want to leave a little earlier than planned.”
It was solid advice, but I wanted to stay another day to search Vlad’s pied-a-terre for any leads. Even the smallest hints as to his current whereabouts would be welcomed. We were now back to almost square one in our search for him and not sure how to proceed to square two. Needless to say, but I’ll say it anyway, I was much better at playing checkers than chess.