Enemy In the Room (25 page)

“Mr. Sawyer? I’m Lieutenant Don Akers. This
is Lieutenant Kirk Hoover.”

The three men shook hands. “How can I help
you, gentlemen?”

“Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“Sure. The small conference room should be
available. Can we get you some coffee?”

A few moments later they were seated around
the conference table with the door closed. Akers began. “Mr.
Sawyer, Lieutenant Hoover and I are investigating the disappearance
of Mr. William Porter. You know him, I assume.”

“Yes, of course. I’ve known him
professionally for years. Not well, but we’ve done some deals
together. He runs a good shop.”

“Yes. Well, as you probably know, he hasn’t
been seen or heard from since May 4th—two weeks ago.”

“It’s a real mystery. I thought at first
that he’d turn up in some love nest, or on a cruise.” David smiled,
but the two policemen remained serious.

Hoover spoke. “Mr. Sawyer, do you have any
first-hand experience with Mr. Porter to substantiate that kind of
inference?”

David stopped smiling. “No, I don’t. I’m
sorry. I hadn’t realized that it’s been two weeks. I’m sure that
his family is very upset.”

Hoover continued. “Yes. We’re going back
through Mr. Porter’s diary and are contacting everyone with whom he
met in the month preceding his disappearance.”

“That will be quite a task.”

“Yes, but hopefully worth it in the end. We
noticed that a week before he vanished he made a note to call you
and, uh, Ms. Holloway. Did you talk with him?”

“He left a voicemail for us.”

“Is Ms. Holloway here now?”

“No, she’s in the Far East. She leaves there
tomorrow and will be back in our office on Monday.”

“What did he say?”

“He was upset. He said that someone had
threatened him over the sale of Capital Tower. Well, I think he
said that he
felt
as if someone had threatened him, and he
implied that it could be us.”

The two policemen looked at each other.
Lieutenant Akers leaned forward. “Why didn’t you come forward and
tell us earlier, Mr. Sawyer?”

“Well, I guess I should have thought of it,
but, frankly, it was so absurd that. I mean, you don’t really think
Bill is dead do you? I’ve thought he would turn up any day now and
never connected the two. Killed over a business deal? Not
likely.”

Hoover spoke. “Why did he say he felt he was
being threatened?”

“At the time, we and several others were
trying to buy Capital Tower, which he was marketing. But Porter
apparently decided to buy it himself, which we, and presumably the
others, considered to be unethical. Apparently someone called and
told him to back off his own purchase of the building, or something
bad would happen to him. It was so crazy that we didn’t even call
him back.”

“Capital Tower. What’s happened to that deal
since Mr. Porter disappeared?”

“It’s only been two weeks. In real estate
that’s not much time. I guess it’s in limbo, waiting for him to
come back.”

The policemen looked at their pads and
continued to ask questions for several more minutes about Porter’s
past transactions with USNet, his contact numbers, Kristen’s
schedule, etc. Finally, Akers said, “Well, if that’s it, I guess
we’re finished. Here are our cards, Mr. Sawyer. If you think of
anything else that could help in our search, we’d appreciate
it.”

As they rose, David said, “Of course. We all
hope he turns up soon. If I think of anything, I’ll call you.”

“Thank you. We’ll check back with you.”

“Hey, Callie, it’s Kristen Holloway. Sorry I
got your machine again. Anyway, I’m leaving Singapore in a few
hours, and I’ll be staying in L.A. over the weekend. I’ll be at the
Crown Royal Hotel downtown. Please call and leave a message at the
hotel if we can get together. Any time is fine with me. See ya
soon. Bye.”

Callie was not at home to answer her phone
because she and Alex were at their favorite restaurant, celebrating
the success of their latest upload. It had quickly gone viral in
the world of amateur pornography, and every day their account was
credited with additional funds by the USNet website.

Before their first courses arrived, Alex
slipped her a pill under the table, and then checked their account
from his handheld. “Another twelve hundred dollars today! And a
quote from one of the reviewers: ‘Samantha is the best new actress
in the industry.” He smiled, took a pill, and toasted her with a
glass of water.

She joined him, raised her glass, and drank.
“I get it. Lots of money. Not bad.”

“They sent us an email today, asking whether
we would like to break out from our amateur venue, to become
professionals.”

She frowned. “You mean with cameramen and a
director and all that?”

“I guess.” He nodded.

Callie was quiet while she picked up some
spinach dip with a chip. “Alex, I like the money a lot—it’s freed
us from my parents, and we can do what we want. But I’m not sure
I’m ready for that kind of public notoriety. Or for taking my
clothes off in front of strangers. Besides, I think the slightly
obscure way that you put the videos together adds to their appeal.
So, no, I don’t mind doing a few more of these, until we have a lot
saved, but this is not the career that I had in mind when I started
acting.”

“Others have transitioned.”

“Alex, let’s just keep doing what
works.”

“But our fans will want more. And there will
be even more money. Much more.’

She thought for a moment and then said,
“We’ll see.”

He took a sip. “OK. I guess ‘Samantha’ calls
the shots.”

As their main courses arrived, Callie
smiled. “It’s crazy isn’t it? All that money and no hassles.”

FRIDAY, MAY 20TH

Early the next morning Todd was back at the
Real Time Intercepts control center. Victor Mustafin gave him a new
ID badge, complete with his picture and thumbprint.

“This gets you into the entire building,
except the control room itself. For now, I’ll take you there, and
we’ll talk about the schedule. Your training will begin in about a
week. OK?”

Todd clipped the badge on and followed him
along a short central corridor. At the end, Mustafin inserted his
badge into a slot and placed his right hand over a pad at shoulder
height on the wall. There was a click, a door opened, and they
entered a dimly lit rectangular area only about the size of a
conference room, with a center computer console wrapping around two
padded chairs. It looked to Todd like the flight deck of a modern
jet, except that above the console walls were screens with maps,
stock trading tickers, commodity prices and an array of other
information. As his eyes adjusted, Todd watched the back of the
single man at the console, who was focused on one of the several
screens in front of him and involved in an intense conversation
over his headset.

Mustafin spoke softly to Todd. “The goal of
our training is to have you in that chair, able to make decisions
quickly, and pass along critical information to whoever needs
it.”

For the first time Todd realized the gravity
of what he had agreed to do. It was not just going to be learning
what companies were secretly thinking about a particular issue. It
was making split-second decisions on what to do with a constant
flow of information on an unlimited range of subjects.

Mustafin noted his expression. “Don’t worry.
We’ll train you well. None of us gets everything. It’s too much.
We’ll teach you to judge what’s important and to catch most of it.
You’ll quickly find ways for all of us to make a lot of money.”

“I’ve been excited the last few days—but
what a lot to learn.”

“You’ll be ready. Let me show you the
rest.”

Five minutes later they were seated at the
table in the conference room. There were several screens on one
wall, but only one was on. There was what appeared to be a live
picture of a large area filled with people in cubicles.

Mustafin looked over at Todd and smiled at
his surprised expression. “That’s our first level of data
gathering, on the other side of the globe.”

“Man!”

“They think they’re working for a private
security company to find breaches in corporate security. At the
first level we like to recruit computer geeks who will do almost
anything if they believe it’s improving security or finding others’
mistakes. So when you talk with them on the intercom, please keep
that in mind.”

“Sure. There are so many. Where is it?”

“As I said, it’s half the world away. We
don’t want any of them, or anyone here, to connect what they are
doing with our Real Time Intercepts.”

“It’s so quiet.”

“No need to talk much when you’re on a
console. Most communicating is by computer.”

Todd nodded.

“That’s it for today. I have to relieve the
duty officer in a few minutes. We’ll take a look at the schedules
and figure out when we can run your first watch.”

“Yes. The sooner the better.”

“Understood. I’ll show you out. Remember,
not a word or a hint to anyone, at home or at work. You should open
an account at the bank branch in the front of the building so that
there is a normal reason for you to be here. We’ll meet again next
week.”

Following Friday prayers Councilman Hassan
Farrahi had accepted an invitation to have lunch with two of his
original supporters from the Tampa mosque, along with two visitors
who would be joining them from Detroit. Farrahi arrived at the
restaurant a few minutes after the older men and greeted them
warmly. Although he had spoken on the phone with the two visitors,
this was the first time he would meet them face to face. The five
men took seats at a large round table at the back of the Middle
Eastern diner.

“So, how is it going after your first month
in office?” the taller visitor, Amir Ali, asked.

“Busy, very busy. There is much to do in our
district, and across the city. The schools and hospitals in
particular need so much help. People and families are really
suffering.”

“Yes. You are right,” said Rahim Tahymouri ,
the older of the two, with silver hair and dark eyes.

They were interrupted by the waiter, and
then Rahim smiled. “Hopefully we can help. We’re here to let you
know that our foundation is ready to fund a new, large health
clinic—truly it will be a small hospital--only two blocks from
here. And we will provide an endowment to insure that health care
will be free, or nearly so, for everyone. And we would like you to
be the one to announce the details in the coming week.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, no. We are very serious. We already
have the contract to purchase the site, and the preliminary design
is ready for submission to Planning and Zoning. What do you
think?”

“It’s incredible. Thank you very much.”

Amir Ali leaned forward. “And a month from
now you will announce a new community center, which can double as a
school once we get the paperwork approved.”

“Wow. That’s incredible. It will transform
the neighborhood.”

“Yes. We hope so. We will supply the
teachers for the first three years, and they will be firmly
grounded in our faith and in the truth. We believe that your young
people will enjoy learning from them.”

“Is there some hitch? Are there
strings?”

The four men laughed. Amir Ali said, “No, of
course not. Just let our teachers teach. We believe that we should
help all people, and particularly brothers and sisters and their
families. And we have money to spend that the government no longer
has.”

“Again, it’s incredible.”

“No, it is what Allah has commanded us to
do. We may ask you to travel occasionally to some other cities, to
tell smaller communities how to organize as you have done. And we
may have ideas about higher elected offices for you in the future,
but that will play out in Allah’s time.”

Farrahi simply looked at the four men.
Finally he said, “Of course, that would be fine. Whatever you
think, I’ll be glad to help.”

“Good. We hope so. This is why our faith
will ultimately win over the world, because it is not just faith,
but also a way to live, and a way to govern. All aspects are united
as one. Others are splintered into political factions,
denominations, ‘church and state’. Allah has designed Islam in this
way so that one day His truth will rule the world. While everyone
in the West argues and debates, we will command.”

“Peacefully,” Farrahi added.

“Yes, of course. You are part of that. Allah
has chosen you to do great things. You are blessed.”

“Thank you.”

Kristen had decided to splurge and stay at
one of the beautifully restored older hotels in downtown Los
Angeles. On arrival she had been particularly pleased to hear
Callie’s voicemail, and now, a day later, after a little sleep, she
was sitting in the elegant, noisy lobby, waiting for the younger
woman. Kristen wore a stylish but simple dark blue summer dress
with a single strand gold necklace.

They had agreed to have a late breakfast and
then head off for some shopping. On the phone Callie sounded
reluctant to commit to much time, but Kristen was thankful that
they could at least spend a few hours together. She saw Callie
walking in through the motor lobby entrance, wearing an open collar
white top, designer jeans, and sandals. She carried a large,
colorful straw bag.

As Callie looked around, her dark glasses
perched atop her head, Kristen stood, smiled, and walked toward
her. When Callie turned her way, she made a small sign of
recognition, and the two women met near the middle of the lobby
under a large chandelier.

Kristen, slightly taller, extended her hand
and shook Callie’s. “I’m so glad you could come.”