Full Black - Brad Thor [27]
While he probably could have concealed it in his pocket, if it had been discovered, it would have created no end of problems for him. Even the most paranoid of computer geeks wasn’t going to be fashioning his own shivs.
In the gray half-light that spilled in from the dirty glass skylights above, Chase studied the men who’d been charged with babysitting him. If he had to, he could take them, but there was a lot that could go wrong, and if something did go wrong, he had no doubt either of the men would kill him without hesitation.
They were of medium height and solidly built. Their eyes were hard and dark, like pieces of flint, and told him everything he needed to know about them. These men were no strangers to violence.
Despite the men’s rough demeanor, Chase kept up the haughty hacker act and repeatedly asked the men how much longer they were going to have to wait until they could leave the garage.
When one of the men retrieved a newspaper from the car and tossed it at him, Chase took a look at it and threw it right back at the man, saying in Arabic, “Do I look like I read Swedish?”
The sooner the men could get rid of him, the happier they were going to be.
Two hours later, one of the men’s mobile phones rang and he listened before saying a few words back and hanging up. He then motioned for his colleague to join him at the far end of the garage where they conversed in private. Chase didn’t like it. The sudden sequestration made him very apprehensive.
When the men finally returned, he asked them what the call had been about, but they wouldn’t say. He was starting to regret having left his shiv in the bathroom. Once again, he took stock of anything in his immediate surroundings that could be used as a weapon.
With nothing to do but wait, he cracked another energy drink and sipped on it as he put together a plan for which of the two men to kill first and how, if he needed to.
He was running through the clever ways he could dispose of the bodies when there was the bleat of a car horn outside and one of the men went to open the garage door.
Once the door was opened wide enough, an anemic-looking Volvo rolled inside. Chase watched as it came to a stop and its engine was turned off. Seconds passed. Through the windshield, the driver appeared to be on his cell phone. When the call was over, the man lowered the phone and stepped out of the car.
He was very large, and judging from the way the other two men reacted to him, someone of stature within the organization. He had a certain presence about him and for a moment, Chase wondered if he was looking at the cell’s leader. He was a bit too rough around the edges, though, and Chase pegged him as being somewhere in the command structure, but not at the very top of the pyramid. This was not the kind of man who could blend in and easily remain beneath the radar.
There was also something about his bearing that Chase could not quite place. As he approached, there was a way he walked that he found interesting. He had the bearing of a cop.
His face was a mix of the most exaggerated of Arab features; the long hooked nose, the dark-circled, heavily hooded eyes, thin lips, and dark, weather-beaten skin. His sheer physical size, on the other hand, made him one of the biggest Arabs Chase had ever seen.
“Salaam alaikum,” said the man as he approached and kissed Chase on both cheeks.
“Wa alaikum a salaam,” replied Chase, returning the greeting. The man’s enormous hands gripped Chase by the shoulders.
“Allah has taken two of our brothers today, but you he has spared.”
Chase was not sure how to answer. Was the man testing him? “I am undoubtedly unworthy of Allah’s favor,” he replied.
The large man smiled. “May I?” he asked, indicating he wanted to remove the bandage covering the wound on Chase’s head.
Without waiting for permission, the man reached out and peeled the bandage back. Placing his other hand under Chase’s chin,