Chapter 41
Sadir went through the hassle of several stopovers between D.C. and Seattle, which took him down to Denver where he had to spend the best part of the night waiting for his connecting flight to SeaTac in Washington State.
When Sadir finally reached his room, slid his electronic key in the lock, opened the door and switched on the lights, he saw Lypsick. He was sitting in a chair near the window.
“Welcome to Vancouver, Mr. Sadir,” Lypsick uttered, joining the tips of his fingers in front of him.
Sadir stood in the hallway, glaring at the man. “What are you doing in my room?” The aggressiveness in his voice was undisguised. He took a few steps into the room and glanced at the two suitcases lying on the side of the desk.
Lypsick observed him walk in. “As you can see, we’ve got your luggage as promised.”
“Yeah, but what I’d like to know is what you’re doing here” Sadir dropped the key card on the dresser, and went to plop himself down on the bed.
Lypsick looked at him and sniggered. “This is probably the last time you’ll see me, Mr. Sadir. I was waiting for you to let you know that from now on end, I’ll be your shadow.”
“What for? I haven’t done anything wrong!”
“That’s what they all say, Mr. Sadir. You know that better than most.” Lypsick lowered his hands onto the armrests of the chair, extended his legs in front of him, and crossed them at the ankles. He looked uncomfortable. “In any case, we’re not here to talk about others but about you. You are the one who wanted to come here. And we want to know what you have planned.”
“I just wanted to go to Seattle. I never meant to come here…”
“I see. And you renting an apartment for the summer on English Bay a month ago was just a coincidence then? Was the apartment for someone else maybe?”
Sadir stood up. He looked like a trapped bear, about to stretch his big arms and throttle his assailant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sadir growled as he took a step toward Lypsick.
The CIA man grabbed his gun out of its holster in a swift move, sat up and pointed it to Sadir’s chest. “That, too, is a comment we’ve both heard. Sit down!” Lypsick shouted.
Sadir backtracked to the bed and sat down again, carefully this time, his eyes riveted on the barrel of the gun.
“Consider this, Mr. Sadir; I could eliminate you right now—no questions asked. I would even get a bonus for getting rid of one more terrorist, but I won’t do that.”
“Why don’t you, and be done with it?” Sadir blurted, not leaving his eyes from the gun. “You’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Sadir. What we have in mind is not as quick and as painless as a bullet through your brain would be. Remember, how long it took for Ms Kartz to get from her hospital bed onto a wheelchair? Do you?” Sadir’s eyes grew wide. “Yes, Mr. Sadir, three long months before she could stop screaming from the pain.”
“But I wasn’t the one who shot her…”
“You’re right; you were not, but that’s not my point. It took months for her to stop screaming and that’s how long it will take for you to see any relief in our pursuit of the truth.”
“What do you mean?”
“Simply this, Sadir; we’re going to find out what makes you do the things you do, what makes you tick, and who’s the puppeteer. And once we’ve find that out, we’re going to try you in open court for every one of your crimes along with your cohorts. Ultimately, and unlike Ms Kartz, you will not find relief and walk free, but you’ll only stare at a needle before you close your eyes forever.”
“What if I were to give you what you want right now…?”
“Oh no, you don’t... Besides, we would be spending months chasing our tails, again, verifying your allegations, and in the end, we would be back here wondering why we believed you. NO! Sadir, your game stops right here. Now, I’m the dealer, and the hand I’m dealing you is made up of only face cards. You play your hand, and we’ll see how many chips you win, that’s all.”
A roar of laughter escaped the fat man’s mouth. “And you think I’m going to dig my own grave and give up the names of my collaborators, just because you’re dealing me a hand of face cards?”
“That’s exactly what you’re going to do, Mr. Sadir.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. What makes you think I would do that?”
“Ah! Very good question. I think your lovely wife and your two girls would prefer to see you rot in prison than being subjected to an accidental death, don’t you think?”
Sadir shuddered. His big frame seemed to crumple into a heap of fear in front of Lypsick’s eyes. “You wouldn’t…!” he groaned.
“Well then, you just watch and listen to CNN while you’re here. Lie to us, make one false move, and you’ll hear of their demise. You got that?”
“That’s blackmail! The CIA would never agree to do that...”
“Who’s talking about the CIA? Don’t forget our counterpart. They’re really waiting to exact Moses Law on you and your family right now. Remember, “An eye for an eye”? You’ve got so many deaths on your conscience as far as they are concerned; they wouldn’t mind giving you a taste of the same—any time now, actually.”
Lypsick replaced the gun in its shoulder holster, stood up, made his way down the hallway, and shut the door behind him as he walked out.