Project Sabertooth

Hell, I didn't even notice that I was being followed all over the countryside! And I am a bad Private Detective, because I don't posses the ability to sit around for hours, not doing jack twiddly. And as evening rolled around and my stomach reminded me of today’s lack of nutrition, I fired up Moby and drove back approximately one kilometer to where I had passed a shopping area with a Gasoline station, and McDonald's this morning. Driving back to Mickey's, it was apparent that I had no other options and had to bite the bullet, so I went in. The lady probably thought I was ordering for the complete soccer team, and I was glad I had enough forethought this morning to stop at the bank for a little cash. I had realized this morning at the bank that I had absolutely no idea just how good the gas mileage was on Moby, so I withdrew four hundred Euro. It seems like a lot of cash to have but I had enough in the bank to last me a lifetime! Ha-Ha! The surprise came when the cashier at the McDonald's added up the total sum of my purchases.

  When I finally left the McDonald's, they, including the manager, were exasperated to the point that they were going to call the police to throw me out. For a couple of bags full of burgers and some drinks, the sum was preposterous, and I started out by saying that if I had bought French fries with it, I would be broke! I called them everything in the book: Horse thieves, stage robbers and a slew of other non-printable things. So with two bags of burgers, a couple of those chicken packages, and four large colas, I left with a large dent in my wallet. And also euphoric that I had truly said what was on my mind. The rest of the night was spent eating cold, stale, tasteless hamburgers with watered down cola. Due to the fact that they simply refuse to understand, or simply ignore your wishes when you say `no ice'! Sometime in the middle of the night, I awoke amid my pile of trash from Mickey's. Cold and stiff from sitting in the same position, I called it a day, got out and stretched my now hurting legs. The phone was so cool because all I had to do was hit the button that looks like a house, and it started to lead me back home. I realized as I was turning onto the main road that if I had more time on this planet, that I could even start to like this new technical stuff all the young kids have.

  The next morning seen me at the gas station. I filled up Moby, cleaned out all the garbage, including all of the McDonalds leftovers, and went into the convenience store to get some real rations while on my stake-out. I bought a cornucopia of things to keep me busy and with a full stomach. Prepackaged toast-bread sandwiches with lunch meat that looked about a week old, four bags of potato chips, a diverse assortment of candy bars, a six-pack of bottled water, and a pack of cigarettes with a courtesy lighter. As the cashier to rang up the total, which included Moby's gasoline, it shocked me. So I figured I would use my bank card, then couldn't remember the four digit pin code for it. I had looked at it when the pin code came in the mail, but since then I had always used cash. Luck me that I still had barely enough cash to cover the bill for what can be more embarrassing than having to put stuff back on the shelf. And suffer the looks from others standing in line thinking, `oh you poor man'! With the passenger seat full, I started to punch in the address, and after three letters of the street name, it already had it on screen. Yeah, I'm starting to really like this phone! I fired Moby up and we pulled out onto the street, leaving a cloud of oily smoke behind us. I would have to go to one of those full service stations, for I didn't have a shimmer about checking the oil stand!

  I had arrived at my hiding spot and after getting comfortable, if that's at all possible in a Beetle, I opened one of the bottles of water and downed one of the doctors magical pills to keep my bowels intact. I opened up the pack of cigarettes and figured that there must be some sort of trick to it, for till it was open I had ripped the whole top off of the package. I lit one and simply held it out the window with my left hand, letting the smoke waft into the car. It didn't smell half bad, so I tried to inhale a drag off of it. Needless to say, after the coughing spell was finished and I had nearly puked outside of Moby, I decided to simply utilize them like an actor does. A prop for others to see. I opened one of the bags of chips and started munching them when an older man walked slowly past with his two dogs. Two dogs which couldn't be more different than day and night. The younger one was a spry poodle with its fur neatly trimmed, and its partner was some kind of mongrel which would defy definition as to what race it was. That and the mongrel had a fur which was as if it had just taken a mud bath, for its fur was all clumped together and ratty looking. The man had lots of trust in his dogs for he didn't even carry a leash in his hand, even if they had dog collars, which they didn't.

  The man suddenly turned and came towards the car, so I put my best smile on and greeted him; “Good morning!” “Morning back to you. Can I ask why you're parked there as if you're hiding?” He asked. “I'm not hiding, I'm, well..., yeah sort of.” I had to admit it because being parked out here in the middle of all these little garden plots did look pretty stupid! “It makes me curious because this garden belongs to my brother.” He continued, “and he hasn't been here for awhile due to his new job, so I walk by every once in a while just to check that nobody has broke into the shed. Can't be too careful nowadays since they built that piece of shit over there and all the rats that go in and out of it.” He said pointing to the Mosque. “Yeah, can't be too careful!” I said and was glad as hell that he would most definitely be on my side of the game. “I'm searching for one specific rat and I received information that he might turn up here occasionally. So I wanted to spot him when he arrives.” I said. He saw the open pack of cigarettes lying on the dashboard and asked; “is it possible that I could have one of those?” “Sure!” I said, and gave him the pack. “Keep the whole pack! Damn things taste like shit anyways!” “No, no. Just one is all.” He said. “I quit years ago but sometimes while I'm out with the dogs I get the taste for them again. My wife would castrate me if she caught me with one of these between my lips again!” “That's quite a mix you got there with those two dogs.” I said. “They couldn't be any more different.” “Yeah, the older one is mine. The poodle bitch belongs to my wife. Don't listen to a word I say when she's around. But out here she knows whose boss and heeds to my commands

  We both had a good laugh about that, and he took a long drag which he inhaled deeply. Exhaling he looked and asked; “What's the matter?” “Well, it's just that I tried that a little while ago and damn near puked!” I said. “Looks like you did!” He said, and pointed down at the running boards under the car door. “Oh!” I said, looking out of the window at the puke splattered chrome. While I was looking down, he shocked me when he let out a shrill whistle to call the dogs back to him. “I think you just busted my eardrum!” I said. When the dogs returned he made a wave of his hand and both dogs lay down by his feet. He threw his cigarette away and said; “You got a long wait ahead of you because they won't show up till tomorrow.” “Why tomorrow?” I asked. “Friday is their day to pray!” He said, and started walking again, the dogs already running far ahead of him. Great! I thought. Wouldn't a simple sentence under the address, telling me to show up on Fridays, be asking too much of them? Two sedentary days in a Beetle. Just got to love it, this James Bond stuff!

  I ate one half of those packaged sandwiches with some more salted potato chips. Then I wrapped the other half up so I could easily throw it into the garbage when I returned home. I would have bet a paycheck that even the dogs would have turned their nose away if I had offered them a sandwich. I threw my empty water bottle onto the backseat and was going to get my keys out of my jeans and fire Moby up to head home when I seen movement up at the beginning of the road where it turned to come onto this dead end little road. I paused, not sure if it someone walking their dog, and seen three men start to walk in my direction. I went through my mental photo album of photos, but none were number one, four or five.

  They got to the door of the Mosque and one produced some keys. As he was starting to unlock the door, a whole group of men came around the road towards the others. “Damn,” I muttered to myself. “There must be a
nest around here somewhere!” I watched in amazement as I seen my three photo album boys were amongst them, and counting a total of seventeen men, wondered how they all managed to fit into that little place! Right at that moment, I wished I had acquired C4 from my former army times. A little bit at a time and nobody would have even noticed, and I could sure use some right now. Quick, efficient, and no more chasing around the countryside. Now what would really be the ultimate kick would be to get my hands on some of the new stuff, called Thermite. According to what I had read it was much more stable, and packed a hell of a lot more punch per gram. I wondered what Ishmael's uncle would say if I asked him to procure some for me? He'd probably put me in the same category as the others. I was just wasting time with sitting around in the car, daydreaming about how I would place the charges for maximum damage, so I decided to go over to the window and sneak a peek to see if they were truly praying, or perhaps playing poker.

  Sliding over to the building, I crept up and