Fortunately, none of the bullets had lodged in Shohreh’s body, so Loving was able to use his medic experience to clean and dress the wounds. Her arm was in a sling and her leg and the left side of her face were bandaged, but it was nothing she wouldn’t recover from in a few weeks. He couldn’t offer her anything for the pain, but she didn’t seem to mind. She was a tough woman; he knew that already from the way he’d seen her fight in the cemetery. He’d offered to take her to a hospital, but she had refused.
Once she was resting properly, Loving returned to the cemetery to question the sniper who attacked her. Unfortunately, he was gone.
When at last she was well enough, he sat down on the edge of the bed to ask her some questions. She began questioning him before he had a chance.
“Where am I?” she asked, then immediately clutched the side of her face. Loving had bandaged the scrapes and gashes, but he knew they still hurt, especially when she talked.
“You’re safe. I’ve brought people here before. I know the manager. And I trust him. Omar Khasban. Nice old Iranian guy.”
She looked at him cautiously. “So you do not believe that all people of the Middle East are brutal killers?”
“I know better. Some of my best friends-”
“And you do not fear those of the Islamic faith?”
“The core teaching of the religion is love, ain’t it? Teachin’ people to be good to each other? Like pretty much every other religion I ever read about.”
“You do not think we are all barbarians?”
“Stop me if I’m wrong, lady, but didn’t I read that over half of all Muslims live under democratic governments?”
She continued to stare, obviously evaluating, being her usual cautious self. “You are very enlightened for one who seems so…simple.”
Loving grinned from ear to ear. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Works well in my line of work.”
“And that is-?”
“Private investigator. Work for Ben Kincaid, first when he was a lawyer, now when he’s a senator. Either way, he manages to get into trouble pretty much constantly. Ben is working to pass this new amendment the president has proposed, and his wife hates it, and she’s got this crazy idea that the Oklahoma City attack wasn’t about terrorists at all.”
Shohreh’s voice grew quieter. “Indeed.”
“Yeah. Christina’s got some notion-I don’t really understand it-but it’s got somethin’ to do with the first lady. Like maybe, she thinks Emily Blake was the target, not just fallout from the attack on the president.”
“This…Christina…is a very unusual woman.”
“You got that right. And you haven’t even seen the way she dresses.”
“Has she shared these ideas with the authorities?”
“I think she’s tried, but no one’s listenin’.”
“Why were you looking for me?”
“Well, that’s a long story.”
“Condense it for me.”
Loving laughed. She almost did too, but it made her face hurt too much. “The first lady died because of a change in procedure made by a Secret Service agent, Tom Gatwick, who was on the spot in Oklahoma City. I’ve reviewed the tape to see who he spoke to before, during, and after the attack.”
“You saw me.”
“Yes, I did. And so did the kajillions of law enforcement types who have been reviewing the same tape. The problem is-none of them knew who you were.”
“But you figured it out.”
Loving waved a hand in the air. “Aww, I got lucky.”
“I very much doubt that.”
“I happened to be visitin’ my pal with the DCPD-Lieutenant Albertson. We’ve worked on some cases together in the past.”
“You were partners.”
Loving shrugged awkwardly. “More like…friendly antagonists. When he wasn’t trying to arrest me, we exchanged information.”
“America is a very strange country.”
“You got that right. Anyway, I happened to be visitin’ one day when I heard an eyewitness talk about the strangest thing. He’d seen this tiny little Middle Eastern woman walkin’ down an alley not far from here. He saw three other men walk into the alley and thought she was about to be mugged. Bein’ a resourceful citizen, he got out his cell and called 911. ’Cept, as it turned out, by the time he was off the phone, she’d already trounced two of the chumps and sent the third hidin’ in the darkness. Said she was some kinda ninja fighter or somethin’.”
A thin smile crossed Shohreh’s face. “I have been trained in the art of the Muay Thai.”
“Thai kickboxin’? I’m impressed.”
“I’m impressed that you know what the Muay Thai is.”
“I try to stay up with all the new ways people have of killin’ each other. Pays off in my line of work.”
“But this witness-it was dark-he had no camera.”
“He had a cell phone camera with a flash. True, the picture pretty much sucks, but he also gave a description to a sketch artist, and between the picture and the sketch, the cops came up with somethin’ that I thought looked a hell of a lot like the woman in the video. Uh, pardon my French.”
“I speak French. That is not French.”
“It’s an expression. Uhm…” How to explain? “Never mind. So that’s what put me on your trail.”
“How did you find me?”
“I trolled the area where the fight broke out for days. Staked out the corners with video cameras. Paid people. Eventually got a line on your apartment. Watched this evenin’ as you came out and followed you to the cemetery. And a good thing I did, too. Who was that creep?”
“An emissary of a man named General Yaseen Daraji. A man who very much wants me dead.” She told Loving, in sketch form, of her troubled history-her life of privilege in Iraq before her family was killed, being forced to live with relatives, then being left with no one, forced to flee to Afghanistan, and eventually joining the terrorist cell organized by the General.
“And you think this Yaseen had somethin’ to do with what happened in Oklahoma City?”
“I know that he did.”
“’Cause the Feebs are all busy with that other group.”
“They are wrong.”
“Then why hasn’t this…General guy stepped forward to take credit for the killin’?”
“Because he does not want credit. He wants others to be blamed.”
“What’s the point of a terrorist attack if you don’t take credit?”
“You law enforcement people are being played. Deliberately misled. I believe the General is acting on behalf of another.”
“Who?”
“If I knew, I would tell you. But I do not.”
“But you were there. In Oklahoma City.”
“Because the General asked me to be there.”
“Why?”
“He did not say.”
“If you’re not workin’ with them-why go?”
“He promised he would grant me my freedom-sever all ties, end all grudges. I would be free of his cell forever. He would not try to kill me.”
“I can see where that would be temptin’.”
“Yes. I was so desperate for the peace he offered-I acted stupidly. I did as he asked. But it seems clear now, especially with what you have told me. I believe he may have been setting me up.”
Loving prided himself on being brighter than most people thought, but he was still having trouble with all this. “Why would you think that?”
“That Secret Service agent-Gatwick, you say?-was not the first to approach me. The agents said they had received an anonymous tip that a woman fitting my description might be carrying a weapon.”
“But you weren’t.”
“But I was supposed to. The General gave me one. I took it-but declined to bring it to the memorial service. I was…suspicious.”
“Damn good thing you were.”
“I did not want it to sully my person. The Qur’an teaches us to live in peace. I have sworn off all forms of violence.”
Loving arched an eyebrow. “You were doin’ pretty good back in that alley.”
“Self-defense is another matter. The Qur’an allows all people to defend themselves. We do not have your Christian doctrine of…how do you say it? Turning the other cheek.”
Loving nodded. “Easily the least observed principle in the whole Bible.”
“It is against human nature. We were meant to survive, to fight. Peace does not come naturally.”
“I think you may be wrong about that. But I can see where you might think it, given the company you’ve been keepin’. So why are you lookin’ for this General now? Seems like the best thing you could do is stay away from him.”
“I believe he was using me to draw attention away from his true accomplices. But now I know too much. I can tie him to Oklahoma City, among other crimes. He wants me dead.”
Loving nodded. “I know people who can make you disappear. Give you a new identity. IDs and everythin’.”
Shohreh laughed so hard, she clutched her bandages to ease the pain. “I have been that way before, thank you. The General is smart. A new identity will not stop him. But that is beside the point. I do not want to disappear. I want to seek out the General. And now I have lost my only lead.”
Loving allowed himself a hint of a smile. “Maybe not. I think the man who tried to kill you back at the cemetery can help us.”
“But-you said he had disappeared already when you returned.”
“That’s true. But I searched him before I left. And I found this address scrawled on a scrap of paper.”
Shohreh snatched the paper away from him. “I know this house. I thought it was long since closed down. They must have reopened it. They must have needed it to deal with…an upsurge in business.”
“Terrorism?”
“No. How they finance the terrorism.”
“Oil?”
She looked at him, her eyes wide. “Will you help me? I must find the General. For Djamila’s sake.”
Loving’s forehead creased. “Who’s that?”
She suddenly grew distant. “A little girl. An innocent whose life was taken by the General and his cruel business.”
“And that business is?”
Shohreh’s eyes lowered. “Sex.”
“You mean-you mean he makes his loot off…hookers?”
Shohreh shook her head sadly. “Children.”