K Street, Chapter 10

Jeff finds himself in Washington DC on business trying to close a big deal for his company where he meets up with Nancy again, the FBI agent he had fallen in love with in Atlanta nearly two years ago. Jeff is separated from his wife because of Nancy’s letter. Jeff continues to attract women without trying, some of them with deadly intentions. Jeff and Nancy soon find themselves in the center of intrigue with Israelis and Iranians feeling threatened by the impending deal, determined to kill the deal at any cost―even at the cost of Jeff’s life! The surprising twists will make the reader gasp, the love scenes will make the reader sigh.

Chapter 10 of K Street... They try to murder Jeff!

Saturday, 4:21 PM: Dangerous Touring

Ted takes Jeff for lunch and a little touring. They go to a backroom at the Smithsonian, then to the Smithsonian Castle where Ted sees a friend. Jeff goes to the men's room by himself where he notices two men who he thought was following him earlier come into the men's room. Suddenly terrified, Jeff ducks into a stall as bullets start flying!

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Thanks for taking time, and enjoy!
- Chris Lamela

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Author contact: Chris Lamela, chris@chrislamela.com, 707-566-8790 PST

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               K Street, Chapter 10

Saturday, 4:21 PM: Dangerous Touring

 

     Almost on queue everyone in the room stood up except for Jeff who looked anxiously around to faces still hoping for more information. They pushed through the curtain into the little ops room, the curtain swayed closed again.

     Jeff wanted more information.

     Something.

     Anything.

     From anyone!

     Instead everyone left the room but Nancy who sat back down turning her chair to face Jeff.

     “This is different than Atlanta. There you were…you were…you just happened to come by looking like the twin brother of a crooked congressman. Here you are part of it. Really part of it, not just the accidental tourist like in Atlanta.” Jeff shook his head, “Yes, you are part of it. Even if you were still back in Seattle and you didn’t know any of this you would still be part of this. But this way you have a chance to change the outcome.”

     “Change what outcome? What could I possibly change here?”

     “You remember in Atlanta how at first we didn’t know who the bad guys were but had all sorts of clues until we could finally put it all together?” He nodded slowly. “There it was all a group of people that we could fit into one room. Granted, they all murdered each other.” Jeff felt a tide of memories rise in his head remembering the bar, the big room that he managed to creep out of, escaping before the huge roar of gunfire erupted. “This is more complicated,” she continued. “We have crooked congressmen we believe, but they may actually be conducting legitimate covert operations, we don’t know. We can only assume that the Arabs are even affiliated with the government, in the cloak-and-dagger world we can’t even be sure of that. We can only assume the Israelis are who they say they are. Now we have strong reason to believe that the Iranians are out to kill this deal.”

     “They can do whatever they want as long as they don’t kill me.”

     She smiled reaching her hand out laying it on his knee, he felt that same cattle-prod shock that he felt back in Atlanta when she touched him.

     “All I know is that you’re probably not a target of anything,” Jeff feeling just slightly reassured, “we assume that they have some way to kill this deal through some other means. The congressmen involved in this are probably bigger targets than our little circle.”

     “So what do we do today?”

     “You are going to go have some lunch, then Ted’s going to be your guide to take to do some touring.”

     She started to stand, he reached up pulling her back down.

     “What about us? What about tomorrow night?”

     She leaned forward, kissed him with a light peck on the lips, “Nothing is going to stop me from coming knocking tomorrow night. I have a busy day today, that party tonight, then we are meeting again tomorrow afternoon. You are invited to the meeting. We hope to have more information to make a plan.” She stood up, pulling him to his feet, “Then tomorrow night you can expect a knock.” She leaned over looking into his face, could see his dreamy smile. “Will that work?”

     He pulled her to him, they kissed deeply with quickened breaths, she pulled back with her hands on his arms shaking her head, “God, Jeffery, if it was up to me I’d throw your ass on that table this minute!”

     He glanced down at the table with a flash of fantasy thinking that would definitely be a nice thing to do right now, but she turned pushing open the drape, tying it to the side. She looked into the room signaling to Ted who walked over, “I think it’s time for you guys to go get some lunch and do a little touring.”

     Ted stepped forward shaking Jeff’s hand lightly, “Anything you want to see in particular?”

     Jeff looked to Nancy, “How much time do we have?”

     She shrugged, “The whole day, you don’t need to be back here until tomorrow at two.”

     Nancy’s phone rang, she reached into her purse pulling it out pushing a button. “Nancy here…hi, babe!...yes…yes…yeah, he’s going to be doing some touring,” she put her hand to the phone, “you guys are heading to where, the capitol mall?” Jeff shrugged with a probably, “yeah around the mall somewhere, Smithsonian maybe?” Jeff shrugged a maybe. She turned to her phone, “Smithsonian he thinks…yes, what time?...fine, okay, I can be there. I love you too, bye.” She pushed a button on the phone putting it back into her purse.

     “Okay guys, go have fun,” she turned walking away.

     “Well, then,” Ted smiled, “I guess we can go.”

     They walked out together, he pointed to a black Chevrolet Caprice Classic, the other favorite cop car. Jeff went around to the passenger side climbing in, Ted got in starting the car.

     “I heard that Chevy is going to quit making this car, that the cops will all have to buy Crown Victorias from now on,” Jeff remembered reading.

     “Yeah, I heard. Too bad. I’m a Chevy man myself, but I guess it doesn’t really matter, huh?”

     They drove back toward downtown in silence for a while.

     Ted glanced at Jeff, “You know, I can get you into a couple special places if you want. Kind of the back scenes stuff.”

     Jeff looked at Ted with curiosity, “Yeah? Like where?”

     “Just about anywhere. The basement of the Capitol Building, back rooms of the Smithsonian, I don’t know. What interests you?”

     “Back rooms of the Smithsonian? Yeah, that sounds like something I can tell people about when I get back home!”

     “Good, well let’s go eat first. I will take you to my favorite place. You eat anything, right?”

     “Yeah, and I’m hungry, too.”

     “Then I know just the place.”

     A few minutes later they were pulling into a parking lot with a gate with no signs. Ted rolled down the window, waved his badge at a panel on a curved post, the gate swung open. He parked, they walked around the building. The National Mall came into view. Jeff looked around admiring the majesty of this place with the lawns stretching from the Capitol Building to the Lincoln Memorial, tall pillared buildings along each side, the Washington Monument, the white house barely visible in the distance.

     They chatted about things around them, Ted’s long stride making Jeff pay attention to keeping up.

     Soon they walked up to a hot dog stand, the man at the stand smiling, “Ted! My favorite customer!” they shook hands. “What can I get you, your usual?”

     “Yeah, sure,” nodding toward Jeff, “and one for my friend here, too.”

     “Certainly, any friend of yours is a friend of mine,” he reached his hand out to shake Jeff’s without saying his name, “good to meet you.”

     In a minute Jeff was holding a massive bratwurst in an enormous bun already loaded with onions, relish and brown mustard, balancing that to take a small bag of chips and a can of soda. The two men chatted a couple minutes, Ted thanked the hot dog man, pointing to a bench on the other side of the street facing the National Mall park. They gingerly made their way across the street sitting down. Jeff admired the view with the Washington Monument maybe three hundred feet away, the long view to the left looking down toward the Lincoln Memorial, the massive Capitol Building maybe three hundred yards to his right. He always loved being on the Capital Mall, the eloquent combination of stately beauty and power.

     Neither of them spoke chomping away with both hands needed to manage their meal. Finally Ted stood up, took Jeff’s napkin and wrapper, walking to toss them into a can. Jeff stood up with his drink, they walked slowly in silence enjoying the taste of the bratwurst on their tongues, both scarcely sipping at their drinks for fear that it would remove the pleasant taste in their mouths.

   They walked along coming to a vendor stand where he pointed to a nice boy-size T-shirt with Bill Clinton’s face and another shirt with the White House with bold lettering Washington DC. He was handed tiny little cloth tubes maybe two-inches across, four inches long, the vendor laughed at Jeff’s expression saying he needed to pull the cover off, that the shirt would unfold. Jeff smiled putting them into his right inside coat pocket. He looked down smiling that they were so small he could barely see a bulge in the coat.

    They walked along the Mall, crossed the street walking away from the Mall about four blocks among imposing buildings coming to the entrance of a non-descript building with no markers outside. Ted walked up to the door, opened it, signaling Jeff to wait outside. A minute later he opened the door waving Jeff to come in.

     Jeff walked into an enormous room, much bigger than it might look on the outside. An older man sitting in a chair was reading a book, looked up at them, eyes back to book. The room was the size of an enormous warehouse with what looked like thousands of objects of every description. There were sarcophagus lined along one wall, there were rows of old cars, fire engines, all sorts of Americana neatly organized in rows. Objects lined up stretching to the distant wall.

     “So is it a perq that FBI people get secret entry into these kinds of places?”

     Ted smiled, “Yeah, I wish. No, my aunt works for the museum, an archivist.”

     “Archivist?”

     “She is with the team that does the cataloging of new donations and purchases. None of these have been put on display yet so you are getting to see them before the public.”

     “Cool…” Jeff’s voice faded in wonder looking around, they began a long slow trek looking at the huge collection in the room.

     There were no labels on anything except a bar-code tag. They spent nearly three hours until they both agreed they had seen enough.

     “Actually, I could use a bathroom,” Jeff stated matter-of-fact.

     “They are way in the back, if you can hold it we can go into one of the main museums.” Ted motioned toward the door they came in.

     Soon they were back in the sunlight heading back toward the Mall, taking a right, walking along until they came to the Smithsonian Castle building. Ted walked up, showed his ID, the ticket-taker waved them through.

     Ted turned to Jeff, “This is definitely a perq, government employees get in free.”

     “Nice.”

     Making their way through the atrium Jeff happened to glance over his shoulder noticing two men walking some distance behind them that he had seen when they came to the Mall. They were dark-skinned, one wearing a bulky coat that was out of place for such a warm day, when he looked back they weren’t there, he shook his head, they continued walking.

     “Ted!” a voice came, Ted looked around, his expression turning to recognition.

     “Hey, that’s a friend of mine, do you mind?”

     “I’ve really got to use the men’s room, can I meet you back here?”

     “Sure,” Ted turned toward the man calling out his name signaling that he was coming, “meet me back here in five minutes?”

     Jeff nodded heading toward the men’s room sign fifty feet away. He walked into the men’s room, looked around noticing that there was nobody in there. It didn’t seem that strange, but given all the people in the museum he would expect some little boy with his father lording over him to make sure he didn’t pee on his little shoes too much.

     He walked up to the urinal, unzipped his pants, glanced over his left shoulder seeing a man walk in but instead of walking up to a urinal he stood in front of the mirror taking out a comb starting to comb his hair. Jeff didn’t pay attention. Suddenly the man with the bulky coat walked in stepping over in front of the mirror next to the first man. The first man gave Jeff a glance that suddenly sent a chill down Jeff’s spine―he recognized his expression, the exact same expression that Yusef, the Israeli with the huge scar on his face had given him when they walked into the bar last night.

     Jeff was a target!

     Not even zipping up his pants Jeff turned pushing into the first of three stalls behind him closing latching the door panic racing through him without thinking he kneeled down bending way way down on his knees sliding under the partition between the stalls into the second stall under the next partition into the last stall against the wall stood hearing his heartbeat in his ears. Holding his breath.

     Words were exchanged between the men in foreign tongue. He heard footsteps walking up to the stall door that he first went into.

     Suddenly TATATATATATATA! burst out, bullets flying through the door of the stall, pieces of tile and mortar flying under the partition followed by a BANG! as the man kicked in the door.

     Pause.

     More steps.

     TATATATATATATA! more bullets flying through the second door, more tile and mortar spraying under the stall divider followed by BANG! the second door crushed open with a stern kick.

     Jeff’s heart racing BANG! the door to his stall flew open, there stood the man with the bulky coat holding an Uzi submachine gun pointing at Jeff.

     “HOLY SHIT!” Jeff whispered closed eyes waiting for bullets to rip him apart PAP! PAP! PAP! PAP! PAP! Jeff barely opened his eyes to see the first man drop like a rock PAP! PAP! PAP! bullets ripped into the second man’s big black jacket Jeff dove left beside the toilet onto the ground hands over head looking back at the gun barrel facing him PAP! PAP! PAP! the black-jacketed man spinning in a swirling rain dance arms flailing Uzi in hand TATATATATATATA! bullets spattered across the tile where Jeff had just been standing tile and mortar raining onto him the man spinning around falling face-first onto the floor gun skidding across the room against the wall under the urinals.

     W-E-E-E-E-E! was all Jeff heard from the loud shots barely hearing Ted’s voice.

     “JEFF? JEFF? JEFF!”

     “I’m in here! I’m okay!”

     Ted strutted toward the stall, Jeff stood up patting dust and mortar from his pants and shirt. Ted barely looked around the partition at Jeff, nodded, then leaned over with fingers to the neck of the black-jacketed form at his feet, shook his head, then turned to do the same to the second man. Shaking his head with disappointed frown, “We won't be getting any information out of these guys!”

     Ted leaned over again rifling through the first man’s pockets pulling out many items that he quickly stashed into his own pockets, rolling the second man over doing the same. Finally he looked up at Jeff who was still standing in the stall horrified.

     “Sorry you had to see this man, I had no business leaving you alone. It was my job to protect you. I blew it.”

     Jeff stood silent, jaw dropped aghast at what he had just witnessed.

     Ted stood up, “Hate to do this to you man, but we gotta go.” He reached into his pocket pulling out a cell phone, suddenly he looked over at the door running out of Jeff’s sight. Jeff could hear a man’s voice, “We heard a loud banging, is everything all right in here?”

     “Sorry folks, there’s been a plumbing problem in here, it’s a mess, I need to ask you to go to use the restroom on the other side of the lobby, you can’t come in here.” Jeff could hear some voices, the voice of a small boy, soon they were gone. Jeff stepped out of the stall, stepping over the first man’s body laying at the stall’s opening. He saw Ted turned away talking into his phone when suddenly the bathroom door burst open, a cop bolting in with his gun raised at Ted.

     “FREEZE!”

     Ted turned to him with his left hand pressing a phone to his ear, his gun in his right hand.

     “I SAID FREEZE! PUT THE GUN DOWN! NOW!”

     Ted seemed unfazed, he spoke into the phone, “Look, I’ve got to deal with an excited capitol cop, let me call you back.” He clicked a button on the phone leaning over setting it and his gun on the floor.

     Standing back up with his hands raised he addressed the cop just as another came in behind the first cop with his gun pointed at Ted, “FREEZE!”

     Ted spoke calmly, “I am FBI, this is a matter of national security.” He pointed to his coat with his right hand. “Look, I am going to reach in to pull out my ID, so please don’t shoot me.” The cops watched Ted anxiously as he used his left hand to open his coat wide open, his right hand reaching into his inside coat pocket with exaggerated dainty fingers, sliding a leather wallet out, tossing it to the second cop who let it fall on the floor in front of him.

     The cop reached down, picked it up. Ted continued, “There has been a shooting here, other FBI are on their way, they will be here in a minute. But like I said, this is a matter of national security, you cannot write a police report.” The cop finished looking at Ted’s identification looking more relaxed, lowering his gun, handing Ted’s wallet to the first cop.

     The first cop looked it over, lowered his gun, stepping forward to hand the wallet back to Ted. “What should we do here?”

     “You should guard the door. More FBI will be here in a few minutes, you are to ask for their ID, then let them in. You are to wait for further instructions from me, in the meantime assure the tourists that everything is fine. Absolutely do not let anyone but FBI in here.” The men nodded looking around Ted at the bodies laying next to the stalls, astonished, “Good job, and thanks for your quick response, I am sure we all feel better knowing you guys are on the job.” The first cop half-smiled motioning to the second to follow him out whispering to the other, “Did you see what was in there?” the other muttering a response.

     Ted leaned over to pick up his gun and phone, pressing buttons again he turned away from Jeff to talk.

     Not thirty seconds later he could hear the sounds of two other voices talking low and firm, their voices growing louder, they walked into the room, walking up to the bodies.

     “Holy shit, Theodore, what a mess you made!” said a voice. He turned to Jeff smiling at the dust in his hair. Jeff looked up with a grin, though he could not see his hair he mussed it with both hands, a cloud of dust encircling his head, sneezing.

     “Bless you man, you okay?” Jeff nodded, could hear the other man turned away talking into a phone giving some kind of instructions.

     Finally Ted turned to Jeff. “You going to stand there all day?”

     Jeff had been standing with a stunned expression watching all this, barely breathing.

     “Come on man, we have to go,” Ted motioned for Jeff to follow him.

     Jeff tried to remember if he even peed, realizing that he probably couldn’t right now anyway even if he tried, he looked down, grinned, pulled his zipper up.

     Walking back out the door Ted turned to the two cops, said a few words Jeff couldn’t hear, the ringing was subsiding but his hearing was not all there yet.

     Soon they were back in the lobby, a minute later standing outside. Ted looked down at his watch, back to Jeff. “You look like a guy who could really use a drink.”

     Jeff nodded, they turned back toward Ted’s car, soon sitting in the black Caprice together crossing the National Mall again.

     “I know a nice quiet place that’s up near Cookes Park. I’ve called an emergency meeting at seven, that gives us almost two hours before the meeting. This place has pretty decent food so we can eat before the meeting, will that work?”

     “God, I’m not even sure if I’m hungry.”

     Soon they pulled up in front of what looked like a funky old Irish Pub, looked out of place from the high-end stores next to it. “I know it looks junky, but O’Malley’s has been here for a hundred years, back when this whole area was old tenement housing and warehouses.

     In a minute they were both sitting at the bar. Ted pointed toward Jeff, “This man could use a very tall Guinness.”

     Jeff smiled thinking that he couldn’t have chosen better, “Good choice there Ted, but it would be a better choice if you ordered me two.”

     Suddenly Jeff felt the signal from his bladder, “You know, I never did get to pee back there. Oh, yeah, right, I was too busy dodging bullets.” His wry smile made Ted laugh. “Give me a minute.” He turned toward the men’s room back a minute later.

     “That’s better,” Jeff sat on the bar stool with a relieved smile.

     The bartender was just setting the tall glasses down in front of them. Ted leaned forward, “My friend here is having a pretty rough day, how about another round.”

     “It’s agin our policy.”

     “Don’t worry,” Jeff said, taking a long drink from the glass, “these will be gone before you can draw the next round, I promise you,” they clinked their glasses.

     Sure enough, there were two empty glasses sitting in front of them when the next round appeared, they both started to drink the second in silence.

     “What happened back there?” Jeff asked.

     “We shouldn’t talk about it here, save it for the meeting.”

     Jeff took another swill of his ale, “I noticed you guys never talk about cases while you’re eating or drinking. Is it true that you don’t?”

     “We are a superstitious bunch. It’s bad luck.”

     “Bad luck?”

     “Yes, because it’s too easy for people when they are off in situations like we have here to get funny ideas about things. There’s lots of lore at the agency about things that have gone wrong after people talked about cases while they’re away, so we consider it bad luck.”

     Ted picked up a menu card, motioned to the bartender, turned to Jeff, “They have the best corned beef in the city, will that work?” Jeff nodded taking another long drink of his beer. Ted ordered two plates of corned beef.

     They sat in silence.

     Soon the food arrived.

     They ate in silence.

     Finished eating, they pushed plates away, two new Guinness appearing in front of them.

     Jeff took a long pensive drink, turned to Ted, “I know it’s bad luck and all to talk about a case, but what the hell happened back there?”

     “I don’t know, but all I can tell you is that this happens every so often when a bunch of whacko foreigners go running around the city shooting at people.”

     Jeff’s eyes bulged at the notion of people running around the city spraying bullets all over, “This has happened before?”

     “Yeah,” Ted shook his head slowly, “but, soon the agencies get a handle on it and we manage to get it back under control.”

     “Agencies? Not just the FBI?”

    “Hey, whatever it takes, come on, let’s go.” They both finished their ales, stood up heading outside, soon back in Ted’s car, a few minutes later back at the ops house.

     Ted turned the key, the car engine stopped, he turned to Jeff, “There have been a couple times when it got really ugly, with this case there are too many key players involved so we will be working together with the CIA, NSA, maybe others to squash this pronto.”

     Ted opened the car door, signaled to Jeff to get out, a moment later they were walking together back into the big house, through the door into the ops room that was now so crowded that they had to turn sideways to push through to the conference room.

     When they managed to get into the dining room turned conference room, every chair had a body sitting in it, there were two more standing against the back wall. Ted turned back through the door returning with a chair for Jeff, people stood to open up a place to put it. Ted motioned to Jeff to sit down, walked back to the double-wide door pulling the black drape across the opening, walking around the table to stand along the back wall.

     Jeff looked around the table seeing Nancy bent over a yellow legal pad writing some notes.

     Arnie stood up pointing to Nancy, “Nancy is the lead on this case, but let me start with a recap of what happened today.”

     All eyes turned to Arnie. He did a recap of the events of last night and the meeting this morning at the ODS office, then what happened at the Smithsonian.

     Nancy looked to Jeff with a soft smile shaking her head slowly, “So you just can’t help yourself, huh? Like you didn’t get enough of being shot at while you were in Atlanta, now you’ve got to go getting yourself shot at here, too?”

     Jeff was expecting chuckles from around the table but the room was pin-drop silent. He shook his head with a morose aura trying to find a response, the room hung on his breath waiting for words to emerge.

     “I sure as hell wish I had that damned little Colt so I could shoot through that door. Those bastards were going to kill me. If it hadn’t been for this guy,” nodding toward Ted, “I’d be sleeping on a slab right now.” He shook his head in wonder, “So this means that the stakes have definitely gotten raised, like Ted said, but who the hell were those guys?”

     Ted stepped forward pulling out a large plastic ziplock bag pouring the contents onto the table.

     Nancy reached over, the pile was pushed across the table to her.

     “Oh, Jesus Christ,” she scowled, flipping through the contents of the pile.

     “What?” Jeff leaned toward her.

     She glanced around the table, looked to Jeff. “You think what happened today was bad?”

     “Hell yes, it was bad!” Jeff responded angrily.

     “Well, then hold onto your hat, there Jeffery.”

     “Why?”

     “It’s going to get a whole lot worse.”

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K STREET!

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K Street, Chapter 9

Jeff finds himself in Washington DC on business trying to close a big deal for his company where he meets up with Nancy again, the FBI agent he had fallen in love with in Atlanta nearly two years ago. Jeff is separated from his wife because of Nancy’s letter. Jeff continues to attract women without trying, some of them with deadly intentions. Jeff and Nancy soon find themselves in the center of intrigue with Israelis and Iranians feeling threatened by the impending deal, determined to kill the deal at any cost―even at the cost of Jeff’s life! The surprising twists will make the reader gasp, the love scenes will make the reader sigh.

Chapter 9 of K Street... Iranians want to kill the deal!

Saturday, 10:28 AM: No Idea

Jeff meets Arnie again when Jeff learns his equipment is headed for Iraq! Then he learns that there are Iranians who want to kill the deal! And all they can do is wait for somebody to make the next move!

If you enjoy this, please take time to LIKE this on Facebook!

Thanks for taking time, and enjoy!
- Chris Lamela

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Author contact: Chris Lamela, chris@chrislamela.com, 707-566-8790 PST

---------------------------------------------------------------------

               K Street, Chapter 9

Saturday, 10:28 AM: No Idea

     They drove silently down K Street, merged into Washington Circle, off onto Pennsylvania Avenue. Jeff was looking out at the nice day, maybe will hit the mid-seventies he heard somewhere.

     Nancy pulled out a cell phone pushing buttons, she drove speaking into it saying they were on their way, that Jeff was with her, clicked the phone setting it on the console.

     “Cell phone, huh? I thought you guys only used radios.”

     “The coverage in all of greater DC is fantastic so we use them here.”

     Jeff reached into his inside coat pocket pulling out his five-inch by two-inch Nokia showing it to Nancy. She smiled, “No more Motorola clam phone, huh?” He shook his head. “Let’s make sure to get my numbers into your phone when we get a chance.” He nodded putting his phone back inside his coat pocket.

     “So we have Arabs and now Israelis involved in this. Why do I have a feeling that you know more than you are telling me.”

     “You don’t have a need to know.”

     Classified! Jeff had his U.S. Department of Defense security clearance, he knew the code.

     “Then you can just turn around, drop me off at my hotel, we’ll call it a day, huh?” He signaled to a corner on the street, “Or better yet, just drop me there and I’ll take a cab back.”

     Looking to him frowning, “Okay, I’ll tell you as much as I can when we get to the house.”

     Soon they turned onto Twenty Ninth Street, a few minutes later left onto Q Street. The houses had been looking about the same, large brownstones, looked to be built in the twenties, maybe. They pulled up in front of a house that looked similar in design to Nancy’s in Georgetown, only not as big, a minute later they were walking through the door to a setup similar to Atlanta, only scaled-down with only four people in the room, a similar setup to the house in Roswell with long tables filled with computers, different boxes with rows of blinking lights or small video displays.

     Nancy pointed to a door, “I need to use the head, they’re waiting in there.” There was a double-wide door with a curtain rod that had been put across it with a thick black curtain pulled to one side tied back.

     She turned toward another door, Jeff walked forward through the large doorway into a familiar scene: a large dining room turned into a conference room. He looked around the room seeing only four people seated when he heard a familiar voice, “Hey! Look who it is!”

     Jeff turned, there was Arnie who Jeff met during all the madness in Atlanta jumping up, only this time he was wearing a Washington Nationals baseball cap instead of an Atlanta Falcons cap. A plump hand was offered to Jeff, it shook his hand enthusiastically, Jeff pointing to Arnie’s cap. With eyes looking up at the hat’s bill hanging over his face Arnie smiled, “You got to go native, right? Plus this is really my home team!” Jeff laughed with the portly man with the ready his wide smile, taking his chubby hand in his shaking warmly.

     Jeff looked around the table seeing only one familiar face from Atlanta, Yvonne, the dowdy brunette with her broad black furry eyebrows like a paint stripe across her forehead with her trademark gold hair pin, this time with a nice flower inlay on a wider pin that sat nicely along the shape of her head. She looked a little more primped to Jeff than she had been in Atlanta. Like her hair had been washed at least.

     Soon Nancy walked in, they all sat down.

     “What is the security level here?” Yvonne asked.

     “Can we defer that until we have seen where this is going? We need a qualified need-to-know. I don’t think we’re there yet.” Yvonne nodded.

     “So Jeff,” Arnie turned to look at him, “I hear it was a little like old times last night.”

     “Yeah, if you mean people shooting at me,” Jeff replied with a pensive half-smile.

     “Tell us what happened.”

     Jeff told the entire story from start to end including the meeting last night in the ODS office, and the meeting again with the Israelis, Nancy interjecting about that meeting.

     “Give us the details how you are involved in this, I mean, after Atlanta this is a hell of a coincidence that you’re here again don’t you think?” Arnie shook his head.

     “Believe me, nobody’s more surprised than me!” the room chuckled, Jeff looked to Nancy shaking her head smiling.

     Jeff went on to tell about his company, how this order came about, how he had come to DC to get the deal done to take home a six million dollar check and an executed export license.

     Arnie and Nancy exchanged looks, Nancy motioned to Arnie, “Can we step out for a second?” They stood, walking out the door, a minute later coming back into the room, Arnie turned, undid the drape pulling it across the opening.

     “Yvonne, we’re moving this to a classified briefing.” She pointed to Jeff, “He has the Level 3 we need here.” Yvonne nodded reaching down to pull out a bound page-numbered notebook which Jeff recognized as what was called a Patent Notebook in the aerospace industry.

     Nancy and Arnie sat down. Nancy turned to Jeff, “We decided you have the need to know.” Heads around the room nodded. “What do you know at the Iran-Iraq war?”

     Jeff looked up in thought for a moment, “Well, wasn’t it around nineteen-eighty or so, I don’t remember, no, maybe eighty-nine?”

     “Close, eighty-eight.”

     “I remember reading about it, horribly brutal, mustard gas, all sorts of nasty stuff between the two. And nothing came out of it, just a half-million dead people, but it was a stalemate the whole time, right?”

     “Pretty much,” Nancy frowned, “but it never really ended. The tensions keep going on. It was a huge blow to Saddam’s credibility with his people which only led to his being all the more brutal.” She sorted through a small stack of papers handing Jeff one page. He took it, scanning the page.

     “That is a summary of communications that we intercepted three years ago.”

     “This is talking about the need to have advanced surveillance on Iran. Is this how I got involved in this?” A terrified expression flashed across Jeff’s face, he saw the implications. “Is my gear heading to Iraq?” He shook his head finishing the page, the room pin-drop silent. “This is illegal, my gear can’t go to Iraq!”

     Arnie put up his hands in a consoling way, “Jeff, it’s a little more complicated than that.” Arnie paused with his hand to his chin. “Have you ever heard the saying you are my friend if my enemy is your enemy?” Jeff nodded. “Well we are no buddies with Saddam, especially after Desert Storm and all, but we are certainly no buddies with the Ayatollahs in Iran either.”

     Jeff’s eyes were locked on Arnie intently trying to piece this puzzle together. Arnie continued, “Supplying non-lethal arms to Saddam was a no-brainer under Reagan and Bush, it took a while for Clinton to get on board. Saddam is an isolated iconoclast who is so bogged down murdering his relatives to hold onto power that he doesn’t have a chance of exporting anything but oil and then only to the black markets in Africa. Iran, though, has lots of time on its hands with a passion of spreading the good word of Islam along with an ounce or two of its oil-fueled influence. Now I know that you are running a business that you want to keep clean, right?” Jeff nodded. “But all you need, really, is that export permit. Do you really care where your gear ends up?”

     “Morally, yes!”

     Arnie put up his hands consolingly, “Okay, right, morally, but all you really care about is taking home your six million and your export permit, right?”

     Jeff looked out the window through the sheer white draperies but could only see fuzzy outlines of light. “Yeah, I guess.”

     “So here’s the deal. The only way that we could possibly get the export license for your gear was to have it shipped labeled as spares. The same is true for the UAV aircraft from General Avatonics.”

     “But it takes skill to outfit a UAV plane with our gear. It’s not something just anybody can do.”

     “Right, but that’s not your problem, is it? I mean General Avatonics does the integration, right? And they could do it anywhere, right?”

     “Okay, but why the Israelis and why are people shooting at me?”

     Nancy leaned forward, “Look Jeff, that was a mistake. You heard Yitzak this morning apologize for his over-enthusiastic man.”

     Arnie looked at Yvonne who was scratching notes, “Yvonne, level four, please.” She made a note.

     Yvonne motioned to Jeff, “Cleared?”

     Arnie nodded, “Yes, cleared.” He turned to Jeff. “Look the Israelis just want to make sure that whatever we are selling Sadam doesn’t have the range to reach the Holy Land. But trust me, those are the last people we have to worry about.”

     Jeff’s face crinkled in stern expression to Arnie, “Who then?”

     “The Iranians.”

     Jeff pushed his chair back, “Oh Christ, please tell me that we don’t have a bunch of mad Iranians running around DC all involved in this! Those mothers are serious! They shoot first, don’t even bother to ask questions later!”

     The room’s silence slowly percolated into Jeff’s brain that there were mad Iranians running around DC trying to figure out how to stop this. Or at least to learn everything they can about what is being shipped. He felt ice-water blood draining from the top of his cranium flowing down past his ears, down his throat washing over his heart, landing in his toes.

     “What about back in Seattle. Is there any danger there?” He thought of his staff, the other employees at Versatec.

     “The biggest problem,” Nancy perused the room, turned back to Jeff, “is that the Iranians are like a clown show. Their agents are so unpredictable, but also they are not very smart. We are pretty certain that it would not occur to them to go to the source, but instead cut it off at the head. Why do you think the ODS offices are so secure?”

     Jeff leaned back still confused, taking a couple minutes in silence, the room looked on. “So let me see if I can get this straight. ODS has some kind of crooked connections through congressman who are getting paid to facilitate questionable export permits.” Nods around the room. “They believe that they have managed to secure export permits for Versatec’s gear and six UAV aircraft from General Avatonics which is being drop-shipped to the Saudis. It must be General Avatonics who is doing the avionics integration, nobody else knows how to do that.” More nods. “In the meantime the Israelis are worried about the capabilities of these systems enough to kidnap Saudi government officials―“

     “They are not actually official officials,” Arnie interjected.

     “Okay, Saudi representatives,” Jeff continued, “right out in the middle of public in the middle of Washington DC. And we think we have a bunch of crazed Iranians running around trying to stop all this?”

     “I wish it was just a few crazy Iranians,” Arnie frowned shaking his head. “But we are talking really crazy Iranians.”

     “Really crazy! You know who they are?”

     “We know some of the things they’ve done. That’s how we know they’re crazy and stupid.”

     “Is that all you know about them?”

     “No, we also know their DNA.”

     “Know their DNA, so that’s good right? I mean you guys must have all sorts of advanced technology in that space, right? So that’s good, right?”

     “Yeah, I guess it would be.”

     “Guess it would be?”

     “Their DNA helps if you know what they look like.”

     “And?”

     “We have no clue what these guys look like, who belongs to the DNA.”

     The room was washed in silence from these words: We have no clue what these guys look like, who belongs to the DNA.

     “So what next, what’s the action plan?” Jeff looked expectantly around the room like someone was ready to pop up with a plan.

     Arnie shook his head bowed down, looking up at Nancy.

     “We wait,” Nancy replied.

     “Wait? Wait for what?” Jeff could feel mild panic rising in his chest.

     “Wait for someone to make a move.”

 

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K STREET!

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K Street, Chapter 8

Jeff finds himself in Washington DC on business trying to close a big deal for his company where he meets up with Nancy again, the FBI agent he had fallen in love with in Atlanta nearly two years ago. Jeff is separated from his wife because of Nancy’s letter. Jeff continues to attract women without trying, some of them with deadly intentions. Jeff and Nancy soon find themselves in the center of intrigue with Israelis and Iranians feeling threatened by the impending deal, determined to kill the deal at any cost―even at the cost of Jeff’s life! The surprising twists will make the reader gasp, the love scenes will make the reader sigh.

Chapter 8 of K Street ... Jeff meets the Israelis!
 

Saturday, 9:03 AM: The Israelis

They go to the ODS office and then meet Nancy to try to figure out the kidnapping. Then they get a call from the kidnappers ... Israelis who want a meeting in the morning!If you enjoy this, please take time to LIKE this on Facebook!

Thanks for taking time, and enjoy!
- Chris Lamela

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Author contact: Chris Lamela, chris@chrislamela.com, 707-566-8790 PST

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               K Street, Chapter 8

Saturday, 9:03 AM: The Israelis

     Jeff reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, nervously began pressing 911 when Shawn put his hands on the phone, pushing it down, “No, no cops.” Shawn glanced up and down the street, back to Jeff, “at least not yet, we need to think first.” Jeff put the phone back into his coat pocket with a blank expression, none of this making any sense.

     Shawn looked down the street, raising his hand, a few seconds later their limo drove up, he stepped around to the driver who lowered his window, Shawn spoke to him in a hushed voice. The car drove away.

     “Guys, follow me,” he looked up at the building a half-block down on the left, “Man, this is convenient, come with me to the office.” Jeff and Tom caught up with Shawn, they walked briskly toward the ODS office, were soon upstairs in the conference room where they had met that morning. Without a word Shawn left the conference room, Tom and Jeff sat down, in a minute Shawn appeared balancing three cups of coffee, setting them on the table, reaching cups across to the others.

     Shawn sat down facing Jeff looking at him intently, “Tell me exactly what happened.” Jeff told about how he had noticed the men when they first came in, was suspicious because they both had looked over at their table. He told about how the second Shawn went to the men’s room they walked up to the table, about their actions. Tom told how he was watching the dancer, he wasn’t paying attention until the men had already been at the table best he could remember. Jeff talked about how the Arabs got up from the table followed by the men, him running after them, seeing them being pushed into the back of a black car, then the shot that hit near him, how he ducked behind the cars, the black car pulling away. That was all he knew.

     “Can you describe the men?”

     Jeff paused trying to remember, “About my height, both in heavy coats, like pea coats in black…no not pea coats…but heavy like that. Couldn’t see the faces to speak of, pretty non-descript. Wait, yeah. One had a long scar on the left side of his face, from his ear to his chin. Nasty.”

     “What about the car.”

     “Black Crown Vic, I am pretty sure, but not a limo.”

     Shawn stroked his chin in thought. “What the hell does this mean? Who goes around DC kidnapping Arab businessmen?”

     “They weren’t businessmen, they were government, right?” Jeff posed.

     “Yeah, that makes it even more interesting, huh?”

     Jeff paused, “But how did they know we were there? I mean this is a big town, it’s not likely they just happened to be there. They knew that Amid and Hazim were there, in Archie’s, they came there looking for them.”

     Tom gave a quick look between the other two, “It’s possible that they had a snitch at the club, that’s how some of these guys work, this town is loaded with eyes.”

     Jeff sipped the coffee wrinkling his nose at the Maxwell House flavor, he sure could use real coffee for an occasion like this.

     They discussed what happened, tried to guess at why the Arabs had been kidnapped so boldly right under their noses.

     “We’ve got to call the police!” Jeff finally said.

     Tom shook his head, “It doesn’t work like that here, and the police are the last people we want involved in this to start snooping around ODS, getting into our business.”

     Shawn sighed shaking his head looking at Jeff, “He’s right. We need to figure out what happened, who took them. Your whole deal could be in jeopardy if we get the cops involved in this.”

     “I’m sorry, but I just watched these guys get kidnapped at gunpoint right in front of me and take a shot at me. My guess is my deal is probably pretty damned dead.”

     Shawn looked confused, exhausted, “We need to get some help, but right now, I think we need to get you back to your hotel then we can sort this all out in the morning.”

     Tom turned to Shawn who motioned toward Jeff. Tom stood up, “Come on Jeff, let’s get you back.” Jeff stood up following him out the door, down the elevator. In a few minutes Jeff was alone in the back of the limo. They turned right, back up K Street, right, back up Connecticut Avenue.

     Soon Jeff was sitting alone in his hotel room laying on his bed. He smiled that he hardly drank at all tonight, that his head was pretty clear. He got up pulling his shoes off when the room phone rang.

     “Jeff, you alright?” It was Nancy’s voice.

     “Yeah, I’m fine, but things started getting weird here, did you hear?”

     “Shawn called, said that there had been a shooting.”

     Jeff laughed, “Yeah, bet you can’t guess who they were shooting at?”

     “Okay, you need protection. You are to bolt your door, don’t answer it except for the signal.”

     “Oh, no, not this again.”

     “I’m serious. That will be in,” short pause, “about four minutes.”

     “Sure, I can wait four minutes,” he laughed, “so who’s going to be here in four minutes?” No answer, Jeff realized the line was dead.

     “Okay, four minutes.” He looked at the clock, it was one twenty-three. Walking to the window he looked down seven stories to the street below, even at that late hour there was still some light traffic. He pulled the drapes across the window sitting on the bed.

     “Wow,” he said to himself, I get Nancy to protect me!” His mind raced at the thought that they get to lay together tonight. She had said that they couldn’t be together again until Sunday night. His mind flashed again to Norcross, that wonderful night alone when they made love, he tried to remember, four times? How wonderful it was when they both said I Love You to each other.

     Now she was coming here again tonight!

     Just then he heard the familiar four quick knocks at the door.

     He stepped to the door speaking through it, “Who’s there?”

     “It’s Nancy.”

     Heart racing, Jeff opened the door to see her standing at the door, a man standing next to her.

     “Come on in,” Jeff said backing into the room to let them pass.

     Nancy motioned the man to the corner chair. Jeff laughed to himself how the corner chair seemed to magically appear in every room that Nancy and he had ever been in together. She pulled out the desk chair, turned it backwards sitting in it facing Jeff, he sat on the bed facing her. He looked down at her legs sticking out from around the back of the chair smiling to himself remembering that same pose she had in the downstairs hallway at Magic Town, only that time she was in the red oriental robe, her legs sticking around the chair were bare, here he got to see legs in black slacks. Still he felt a twinge between his legs remembering where those legs lead to…

     “Tell me exactly what happened.”

     Jeff repeated the same things he had told Shawn earlier, couldn’t think of any other details except adding that Shawn told him not to call the police.

     “Yes, actually, that was smart. We don’t need police reports flying all around. That kind of thing happens all over this damned city so that was pretty smart of Shawn.”

     The hotel phone rang. Their eyes turned to the phone. Jeff’s eyebrows were raised to Nancy, in what do I do? She motioned for him to pick it up but not to mention her in the room.

     Jeff picked up the phone saying hello. “Jeff, it’s Shawn, you’re still up?”

     “Yeah, pretty hard to sleep after what happened.”

     “Look, we’ve already had contact with the kidnappers.”

     “Wow, that was fast, what’s the deal?”

     “They want a meeting in the morning, I want you there. Are you up to it?”

     “Yeah, what time?”

     “A driver will be there at a quarter to nine. The meeting will be at the ODS office. Do you want a call?”

     “No, I’ll just be downstairs in the lobby, we’ll figure it out.”

     Jeff hung up telling Nancy the details. Nancy said that she needed to go, briefing Jeff on how he was to deal with her split identity telling him that she was confident that he could manage it given how well he had done in Atlanta. “This is more complicated because of my relationship with Shawn, but I know you can handle it.” She stood to leave, “But Ted,” she motioned to the man, “is staying here with you.”

     She looked at the two queen beds in the room, “How did you happen to get two queen beds?” Jeff shrugged remembering that his reservation was for a single king bed but that he was too tired when he arrived to care. “Well, that works out great because I don’t want him to have to sleep in the chair there,” motioning to the corner chair, Ted with a relieved smile. “We both have a really busy day tomorrow. Given what happened tonight I’ll arrange a little meeting tomorrow at the ops center after your meeting at ODS, we’d like you there.”

     “Another house like in Roswell?”

     “Yes,” she smiled. “It’s a shame because we are on our home turf, but the last thing we need is somebody tailing us to FBI headquarters. The house is not very far from here.” He nodded slowly with eyes to ceiling trying to put this all together, looked to Jeff. “You know the drill, you’ll do fine.”

     He wanted desperately to have her reach to him, to kiss him, shake his hand, anything to touch her. But she stood professionally-distant, turned to Ted thanking him, disappearing through the door.

     When the door was closed Ted stepped forward to shake Jeff’s hand. Jeff nodded silently turning to the bathroom, in a minute coming back out in pajamas, climbed into bed.

     In a second he was out.

 

     Jeff was awakened by the drapes being pulled open, morning light flooding into the room. He sat up, stretched seeing the agent disappear into the bathroom with the door closing behind him, the clock said seven twenty-three.

     Standing up he stepped to the window looking down at the busy street below. He turned to his suitcase laying on the stand, rifled though it grabbing socks and underwear. Soon Ted stepped back into the room, Jeff went into the bathroom to do his thing.

     A few minutes later they were sitting at breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Jeff asked Ted what was the plan for the day. “We are going to one meeting at the ODS offices then to an agency meeting after that. Not sure what else is planned.”

     “Do you have any idea what the ODS meeting is all about?”

     “I guess we’ll find out in a bit.”

     They finished breakfast, walked into the lobby, Ted scanning the room as they walked. “They are only expecting you,” Ted said turning to Jeff, “so I will stand back over there,” motioning with his head, “you just get in when the car drives up.”

     Jeff felt the danger flash in his gut, but nodded, a second later a black limo drove up. Jeff smiled to Ted walking through the hotel front door toward the car. The driver came around, “Jeff?” Jeff nodded glancing back toward Ted but he was gone, he climbed into the back door of the car.

     A few minutes later he was walking through the Fifteen Street entrance of the ODS building. There were three men in the lobby in front of the elevator. Jeff instantly recognized the man with the long scar on his face from last night, TERROR! he bolted back to the door hands in front of him running for the street, “JEFF! IT’S ALL RIGHT!” Nancy’s voice calling to him, turning back to see her standing behind them, pushing her way through the men.

     “That man!” Jeff trembled pointing to the man with the scar.

     “Yes, that was him, but it’s safe, trust me!” Jeff looked at them, the two men with hands half-raised, some kind of sign of asking for trust. She turned to the third man, “Hit the button,” then to the two men, “I need you both to step away, please, give us some room, let me take him upstairs.”

     The two men stepped away toward a corner of the small lobby, the man with the scar motioning them to go ahead. A second later the elevator dinged, doors closed, ascending, the doors opened.

     “What is going on!” Jeff turned to Nancy desperately.

     “Look, I know it’s confusing, things just got really complicated, but you are safe.”

     In a minute Jeff walked back into the same conference room he’d been in before. Tom was at the head of the table with Shawn on his right, two other men on Tom’s left looked up at Jeff. Two men facing away from Jeff turned looking at him.

     Jeff was stunned to see Amid and Hazim. Amid had a bandage over his left eye giving Jeff a weak smile, Hazim with the faintest look of acknowledgement, they both turned back. Jeff sat next to Hazim, Nancy to Jeff’s right.

     “Coffee?” Shawn motioned for a cup from the center of the table, it was poured from a carafe, put in front of Jeff. Nancy reached across the table, took another cup, pouring one for herself.

     Tom introduced himself, Shawn, Nancy, then Jeff. He turned to the two strangers at the table expectantly.

     The man sitting next to Tom spoke up, “My name is Yitzak Spilman, this is my colleague Andrew Perlman. You might guess, we are Israelis.” The man spoke with a thick Israeli accent. Andrew nodded. “Of course you have met our other two colleagues last night, Yusef and Omit.” He looked at Jeff, “You were the one that Yusef shot at last night?”

     Jeff nodded.

     “Ah yes, he is so excitable. I talk, talk, talk to the boy and tell him that is no way to treat people. I will have another talk with him, I promise.” The man gave an apologetic smile, sipping from his coffee. “It was just a warning shot, really. He is quite an excellent marksman. He would not have missed if he didn’t only mean it as a warning.” He sipped again, “Still though, I will have another talk with him.”

     Tom spoke up, all eyes turned to him. “Jeff and Nancy I guess need an explanation for what happened last night and why you are here.”

     Yitzak took a sip of his coffee, “I really do hate, how do you call it?” He spoke in Hebrew to Andrew who replied in the same tongue, “ah, yes, cloak and dagger. I really do hate this. But we have a little concern about the deal that is being brokered here,” he motioned to Amid and Hazim, across the table, “all we want is to make sure there is nothing happening here where your weapons,” speaking directly to Jeff, “will end up in hands that will be bad for us.”

     “It’s just surveillance, how can that hurt you? It’s not weapons, it’s harmless,” Jeff shrugged.          

     “Information is power. We have the same saying in our country as you, that good fences make good neighbors. That is not a bad thing. We believe strongly that good fences keep everyone where they belong, from that we can begin to have trust that we are safe.”

     He took a thoughtful sip of coffee, motioning for the carafe which he used to fill up his cup again. “The problem is that information can breach fences, and information in the wrong hands can destroy fences.” He took another sip of his coffee setting down the cup. “So, you can see, your surveillance systems are not harmless. In fact, we view them to be quite harmful in the wrong hands.”

     “Why are you asking me? The only thing I know is what I see when I sign the export permit application.” Jeff glanced at Amid and Hazim, “These guys are Saudis, that’s where our gear is going. I thought you were friends with the Saudis.”

     Tom interjected, “It’s not that simple. Your gear is usually shipped on UAV airplanes, right?”

     Jeff nodded.

     “But you have an order for six complete sets of aircraft outfitting.” Jeff nodded again thinking about the six-million dollar order. Tom continued, “You see, these gentleman are concerned that the Saudis don’t have the technology to outfit planes with your gear, they want assurances that the equipment is not going to end up in the hands of someone who is sophisticated enough to use it to turn on their country.”

     Jeff could feel his order for six million dollars slipping away, “I don’t have anything to do with that. I just make the stuff. We get a valid export permit, we ship it to where the permit says. That’s the end of it except for repairs.” He shook his head, “And we hardly ever get repairs.”

     “Yes, the reason why you don’t get repairs is because the aircraft are usually shot out of the sky,” Yitzak replied. “I’ll bet Chevrolet would love to have such a nice situation!” There was nervous laughter around the table.

     “So why did you kidnap Amid and Hazim last night if you knew everything?”

     “We didn’t know everything. Trust me,” Yitzak smiled, “it was worth the effort to have our little chat with these gentlemen last night. That is why we are here this morning.”

     “I don’t know,” Jeff shook his head slowly. “I don’t know why I am even here, this sounds like something way beyond my control.” He looked around the table to each face, “All I do is make stuff that goes on airplanes, where it goes and who uses it is not my problem.”

     Nancy turned to Tom, “Tom, he’s right, there’s no reason for him to be here. This is all stuff that we can talk about, we should really let him leave.”

     Nancy looked around the table, saw nods, pinching Jeff’s coat shoulder standing up, “Come on.”

     Jeff stood, waved weakly around the table, in a minute they were back in her blue Mustang.

     “What the hell was that all about? There’s no way I belonged in there. Why was I even there?  I don’t belong in this.”

     “I wanted you to meet the players.”

     “Meet the players, but why?”

     “Because like it or not, Jeffery, you are involved in this.”

 

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NOW READ THE NEXT CHAPTER IN

K STREET!

Access Chapter 9 at:

http://chrislamela.blogspot.com/2012/08/k-street-chapter-9.html

 

 

Also, if you enjoyed this, please give me a LIKE on Facebook to help spread the word! And thank you!