In the first room, Chase found multiple mattresses, only one of which was covered by a sheet. There was a milk crate for a nightstand and atop it a table lamp with an exposed bulb and no shade. A small TV, DVD player, and cushions scattered across the floor completed the makeshift dormitory cum rec room. In the corner he noticed a couple of old hookah pipes.
Sitting on cushions in front of the TV were four cannon-fodder cell members-all mouth breathers, as Chase liked to call the IQ-impaired. They were watching footage of American military vehicles being taken out by IEDs in Iraq and Afghanistan. The men found the carnage extremely amusing and were laughing out loud at every explosion.
That’s okay, thought Chase. Yours is coming soon enough. Keep laughing.
Only one of the men looked up and acknowledged that Chase had walked into the room. The cell members seemed to know that he was related to someone important, which meant he was treated with a certain amount of deference. But he was still a newcomer, so despite that deference, they kept him at arm’s length. None of the men invited him to sit.
That was fine by Chase. He had other things on his mind. Pretending to be interested in what they were watching, he made his way across the room. The closet was partially open and he stole a quick glance inside. Nothing. Only shirts, trousers, and a row of cheap shoes.
Stepping near the windows, he stopped and leaned against the wall. The view outside would be perfect-right out over the street.
Minutes passed. The explosions on the TV continued, and the four men guffawed right along with them. The joy they took in the killing and maiming of American soldiers spoke to how incredibly sick they were.
As not one of them had given him as much as a second glance, he decided to risk a look through the blinds, which had been drawn tightly shut.
It took him a moment and at first his heart sank as he thought the car wasn’t there, but then he saw it-book and all. It was like a shot of caffeine being pumped into his bloodstream. Immediately, his heart raced and he could feel a rush sweep through him. Harvath and the rest of the team knew where he was. This jihadist rats’ nest was going to get the shit kicked out of it.
Withdrawing his hand from the aluminum blinds, he forced himself to take a deep breath. Be cool, he told himself just as he had back at the garage. Everything’s cool.
He ran through his head exactly how he needed to construct his signal in order to let Harvath know what was going on inside. He debated whether he should check out the other rooms first. Waiting was a gamble. What if Karami sent for him or Sabah decided he needed to be watched more closely? It definitely was a crapshoot.
Chase decided on the bird in the hand. He’d send the signal now. He could convey the number of men and that he had not seen any booby-traps, weapons, or explosives. The assaulters would still hit the safe house just as hard, expecting all of those things to be there. So, without wasting any more time, Chase got to work.
“What are you doing?” one of the men asked when he heard Chase monkeying around with the blinds.
“I’m opening the window,” he replied in Arabic. “It stinks in here.”
It did in fact smell, quite badly, but the man either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. “We were told not to go near the windows.”
“I have to get some fresh air,” said Chase.
“It is forbidden.”
Chase signaled to the man not to worry. “It is my decision, brother. I will take the responsibility. Enjoy the television.”
Used to his place at the bottom of the cell’s hierarchy, the man gave up admonishing the newcomer and he and his associates went back to watching war porn.
Chase didn’t waste any time. He lifted two sets of blinds to the same height, about a quarter of the way up. He then adjusted the angle on one set, opened each of the windows differing amounts, and let the string for the blinds hang out the window on the left. With his Bat signal blazing, he grabbed a cushion and sat down with the jihadists to watch TV.
By his estimate, the windows had been open for a little more than ten minutes when Sabah entered the room. “Who touched the windows?” he bellowed in Arabic.
No one answered.
As he repeated his question, he looked directly at Chase. “Who did this?”
“I think the dates don’t agree with my stomach,” said Chase, fanning the air with his hand.
“What’s going on?” said Karami, who suddenly appeared in the doorway.
Sabah gestured toward the windows. “Our guest has been busy creating problems.”
“I wasn’t creating problems,” Chase insisted. “I just opened the window. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal,” said Karami as he walked over to the windows, “is that we have certain rules. One of them is that the windows and blinds must remain closed.”
Chase didn’t like how intently he was studying them. After a moment, he retracted the cord, closed the windows, lowered and shut the blinds.
Turning back to Chase, he said, “The rules were not explained to you, so you will be forgiven your transgression. This time.” Gesturing to Sabah, he signaled for him to follow. At the doorway, he beckoned the Palestinian to lower his head and spoke so that only Sabah could hear.
He removed a pen and a small pad from his pocket. Whether what he did next was to sketch or write something down, Chase couldn’t tell.
When Karami was finished, he tore off the piece of paper and handed it to the Palestinian, who glared at Chase for a moment and left the room.
Karami then said, “I do not wish for any more problems. Is that understood?”
“I just opened the window-” Chase began, but the cell leader silenced him.
“No more problems. None.”
At that moment, Chase heard Sabah bark at one of the other cell members in the hallway. Seconds later, the front door opened and the giant stomped out, slamming the door shut behind.
Chase had no idea if they were on to him or not, but before backing out of the room, Karami forced a smile. It reminded him of the mouth of a shark curling back and revealing its teeth. Every fiber of his being was telling him that he was blown, that he needed to get the hell out of there-now. But he refused to let the fear take hold of him.
Instead, he tried to relax. Everything’s cool, he told himself. Everything’s cool. It was a lie of course, and he knew it, but he kept repeating it anyway. Either way, it was all going to be over soon. He just prayed to God that Harvath had seen his signal.