Hunter
Copyright© 2021 by Lazlo Zalezac
Chapter 3
Seated in the living room of the Captain’s house, Mike was watching the news with an arm around Karen. A story that was receiving very little national attention had just ended. A Muslim from India had terrorism charges against him dropped because it was claimed that the FBI had targeted him on the basis of racial profiling. He had been investigated for wanting to get a truck driver’s license for hauling hazardous materials while having stated that he didn’t want to learn how to back up the truck. The story didn’t mention that the investigation had shown that the man had spent six months in an Indonesian terrorist training camp.
Mike shook his head in disgust. Disappointed in the American legal system, he said, “I can’t believe that he got away with it.”
“The judge bought his argument that every student expressed concerns about learning how to back up a truck and that didn’t represent just cause for suspecting him of being involved in terrorism,” Karen said repeating a crucial line from the news story.
“The bastards that flew their airplanes into the pentagon hadn’t wanted to learn how to land the plane. What in the hell is the matter with people?” Mike asked.
“It’s a difficult maneuver. We can’t suspect everyone who is a little hesitant about learning a skill, of being a terrorist,” Karen said with a smile.
“I can if they are a foreigner,” Mike said with a snort.
“No you can’t,” Karen said adding a little fuel to the fire. She hoped to get him a little riled up so that later he could take some of that frustration out with her in bed. An hour later her efforts were amply rewarded with a very energetic session in bed.
Mike sat down in the cafeteria with some of the analysts working on the terrorism task force. He noticed that the Muslim members of the task force were eating at a separate table. Donald, one of the more outspoken members of the team, said, “Did you hear about Mohammed Abdul?”
One of the other men looked up and said, “No. What about him?”
“He was caught this morning trying to enter the country through LAX,” Donald said. Despite the good news that it represented, Donald didn’t look very happy about it.
“That’s great.”
Shaking his head, Donald said, “There was a lawyer from the ACLU in line behind him. He’s already filed suit for unlawful detainment.”
Mike did his best not to react. The news that Mohammed Abdul had been arrested was significant. The man was suspected of having planned and executed a recent Embassy bombing that had killed the American Ambassador to Thailand. The idea that he had come to the United States suggested that a major effort was being planned. The others around the table purposefully examined the food on their plates, but each glanced over to the other table. One of them finally asked, “On what grounds?”
“Profiling. The lawyer said that the man was not acting in a fashion that should have caused them to investigate the man’s credentials,” Donald said.
Beating Mike to the question, one of the other men asked, “It doesn’t matter to the lawyer that the man is a known terrorist?”
“The lawyer claims that it’s a matter of civil rights. You can’t single out someone for special attention because of their nationality, race, or religion. That’s the biggest bunch of bullshit that I’ve ever heard. If we can’t... , “ Donald answered stopping when one of the other men kicked him under the table in an attempt to get him to shut up. Donald glared at the man and said, “Hey, I’m not saying that all of the rag heads deserve special attention.”
Donald’s comment caused a sudden silence to descend around the table. Remembering the advice of his father-in-law, Mike frowned and turned his attention to his meal. He glanced at one of the nearby tables and noticed that one of the men at the table filled with Chinese had left. Chang was at the table and was staring at Donald. Mike looked over at Donald thinking that the man had just done something very stupid and shook his head.
He listened to a much more subdued discussion around the table. No one wanted to say anything that was too inflammatory. By the time lunch was over, it was a given among them that Mohammed Abdul would get off and be allowed to leave the country. Mike agreed with that conclusion, but he didn’t make a comment.
A few minutes before five, Chang stopped by Mike’s cubicle and asked, “Did you hear the news?”
“What news?” Mike asked looking up from his computer. Not trusting Chang, he activated the screensaver so that the man wouldn’t be able to see what he was working on if he stepped further into the cubicle. He turned to face the door so that he could see Chang. He had to see the man in order to get through his thick Chinese accent.
“Donald Jones was suspended today,” Chang answered. The expression on his face suggested that he was upset by the news.
“Why?” Mike asked not believing Chang was upset at all by the news. He was pretty sure that Chang had sent the man from his table to personnel to complain about Donald’s comments.
“He made some racists comments in the cafeteria,” Chang said watching Mike carefully.
“Really?”
Chang nodded his head and said, “You should know. You were at the table when he made the comment.”
“Now that you mention it, maybe he did say something. I wasn’t really paying attention,” Mike said. He held up one of the reports on his desk without really looking at it and said, “I was thinking about this report.”
“Well, if you ever hear anyone talking like that, you’d better let personnel know about it. We don’t tolerate any of that racist stuff around here,” Chang said.
“I would hope so. We can’t have racists working here,” Mike said in a friendly voice. He wasn’t sure who the ‘we’ was in Chang’s comment about intolerance, but he was pretty sure that it wasn’t the majority of analysts. He felt that they could use a few more people who were suspicious of the activities of foreign-born nationals working within the agency.
Nodding his head in agreement, Chang said, “That’s right. I imagine that after the hearing, Donald will be fired. It’s a shame, too. He was a pretty good analyst.”
“I guess it’s a shame, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he was fired,” Mike said. He smiled at Chang and said, “At least someone noticed and reported Donald’s racist behavior.”
Having delivered his news, Chang turned and left for his cubicle. Mike watched Chang leave. Despite the fact that Chang never said or did anything to cast doubt on his loyalty, Mike couldn’t help feeling that the man was dirty. The briefing that Chang had given concerning his trip to China hadn’t been very complete. There were significant omissions in the information that he’d brought back. He’d have to watch his step around Chang very closely. Shaking his head, he turned back to his computer and typed in his password.
Mike swore at the lawn mower after another attempt to start it had failed. It was brand new and he couldn’t get it started. He grabbed the push bar of the lawnmower with his left hand making sure that he had the safety bar pulled up against it. He reached down and grabbed the starter pull. He yanked back on the pull. The push bar popped out of his left hand thereby releasing the safety bar. He swore, “Shit!”
Looking at the assembly, he figured it was time to make some major modifications to the machine. He stomped into the house to get his tools. Karen took one look at his face and asked, “What’s the matter?”
“I can’t start the damned lawnmower,” Mike said venting a little of his frustration.
“It’s brand new,” Karen said. She was about to start on a rant about how new items didn’t seem to be of much quality.
Shaking his head, Mike said, “I can’t hold the safety bar while pulling the stupid starter cord. It keeps popping out of my left hand.”
“Oh,” Karen said putting the brakes on her rant. She looked down at the dish towel she held in her hand and tossed it to him. She said, “Tie it down with this.”
Catching the towel with his good hand, Mike said, “Good idea. I was going to disassemble the damned thing and fix it so that I could use the mower without the safety bar.”
Karen laughed and said, “My engineer. You’re always looking to do things the hard way.”
Mike grumbled, “I don’t even know why they put those damned safety bars on lawnmowers.”
“Someone tried to use a lawnmower to trim their hedges and lost all of their fingers. They sued the manufacturer of the lawnmower and won the case,” Karen answered.
The idea that anyone would be that stupid staggered Mike. There was no way that story could be true.
He stared at her for a second before he said, “You’re kidding me.”
“Well, that’s the story I heard,” Karen said.
“That’s got to be an urban myth,” Mike said.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. If someone can win a million dollar lawsuit because they were so stupid as to spill hot coffee on themselves because the person who sold them the coffee didn’t warn them that it was hot, then anything is possible,” Karen replied.
Shaking his head in remembrance of that little news item, Mike decided that she might be right. He said, “Well, I better get back out there and mow down that fine crop of weeds that we call a lawn before the neighbors complain.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. The neighbors are so happy that we bought the place that they aren’t going to complain if you don’t get the weeds whacked this weekend,” Karen said with a smile.
Vincent went behind his desk and took a seat in the leather chair. Looking over at Mike, he said, “Congress killed two of my weapons programs this week.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Mike said looking across the study at his father-in-law. He was going to miss the evening discussions with the Captain when he moved to the new house.
“It isn’t. These were significant projects that could have really helped protect our ships. This is a major setback,” Vincent said. One of them was an unmanned drone that could double as an anti- missile missile. It was intended to protect a ship against a Chinese Silkworm Missile.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.