“Come in, come in,” he said, smiling as he closed the door. “Everything is ready for you. Welcome, brother. Sister.”
He nodded deferentially as he shook Hala’s hand, even as his small eyes lingered over her breasts.
“Please take off that silly hat,” she said to him. He immediately did as he was told.
The man’s much younger wife was inside, spreading clear plastic sheets over both of the queen-size beds. She smiled, too, but didn’t speak, not even to offer any sort of refreshment. Hala noticed that she had very large breasts. Augmented? she wondered. Disgraceful if that was the case. A ridiculous Western custom, dangerous as well.
In the corner, several unmarked cardboard boxes were stacked against the wall. This was the poison, wasn’t it? A great deal of it. Two large empty canvas duffels and a plain black briefcase sat on the dresser. Once the perfunctory greetings had been made, they got to work on the death hit. Tariq and the other man began unpacking cartons while the young woman went to the briefcase and flipped it open for Hala to inspect.
“Weapons,” the young wife said shyly, nervously.
“Yes, weapons. We’re at war with America. Oh, hadn’t you heard?”
Nested in the case’s foam liner were a bowie knife in a leather sheath, a tightly coiled garrote with small wooden handles, a Taser, a Sig Sauer combat model pistol. The kit also included six fifteen-round magazines and a suppressor.
Hala picked up the Sig, keeping her eyes raised, as she’d been trained to do. Her hand found one of the magazines, slapped it into place, then twisted the suppressor onto the threaded muzzle.
Tariq caught her eye and smiled. He liked her with a gun. Liked the ease with which she fondled the weapons. She was the soldier, not him. She was the trained assassin as well.
“This will do,” Hala said, mostly for his benefit, and set the Sig back down.
“Here.” Tariq handed each of the women a pair of latex gloves and a blue filtration mask. “We should get started on the rest of our task.”
“Be careful. Very careful,” Hala warned the other couple. “Do not touch your skin or eyes once we begin. I’m serious about that.”
For the next several hours, they were all extremely careful. The two women cut dozens of squares from a roll of fine-mesh cloth and laid them out in rows on the bed. Tariq instructed the male, as the two of them painstakingly measured out white crystalline powder from large plastic canisters, mounding the substance in the center of each cloth square. The cloth was then tied at the corners into tight bundles and secured to one of several lengths of clear nylon line.
Every string of ten bundles was placed into its own plastic bag.
The bags were then tucked into duffels.
They finished their task at just past midnight. Tariq opened a window and lifted his mask to indicate it was safe for the others.
Their host was grinning as he took off his own mask. He clapped a hand onto Tariq’s shoulder.
“Brother, I know I’m not supposed to ask where you’re taking these, but I can’t wait to find out. We’re all very excited about this.”
Tariq only stared at the man’s hand until he took it away.
Hala answered for them. She picked up the loaded Sig from the dresser and pointed it at their hosts.
“Sit down, both of you,” she said. “We’re not quite done here. I said, Sit down.”
“I SAID, SIT.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” the fat man asked, even as he sat obediently on the bed. Hala kept her gun trained between his eyes, the same ones that had been undressing her all night.
“We watched two of our own die at the airport last week,” she said. “I thought they had done something stupid to get themselves pulled out of line, but apparently not. Someone’s talking to the Americans. There’s been a leak. The Family is sure of i
t.”
“And they think it’s us?” the man asked incredulously. “That isn’t possible. It’s ridiculous.”
“It’s all been spelled out,” Hala told them, referring to the disk they’d been given. “Not just our instructions, but everything you two have been doing since you came here.”
“Sister, I swear — we’re with you!” the wife blurted. “We are Family, too.”
“No,” Hala said, waving her pistol at the woman’s ridiculous chest. “You’re whores to the American cause. Traitors.”