Page 24 of ELITE Justice
“Oh, that’s nice.” She held out her hand. “Gwen Shaw, temporary manager of this fine eatery.” She cocked her head and looked at Jonathan. “Didn’t you just transfer here from Miami?”
Griffin smiled as though in recognition and Gwen leaned on her back foot.Wow. The dark and broody man transformed into a male escort, beyond handsome with a rugged side to him. She could picture him dressed in leathers straddling a Harley.
“Gwen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” When Griffin stood, she had to look up, and up some more. He had to be a few inches above six feet, with linebacker shoulders, making her feel petite. He glanced around then lowered his voice. “You have helped our country more than you can believe. I’m not at liberty to expound, but know, your translation skills have most likely saved hundreds of lives.”
Shocked, she straightened, as though her commanding officer had just pinned a bronze star on her uniform. “Really?” Her voice broke on the single word.
“Yes,” Jonathan assured as he moved beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a possessive move. “We’ll talk later,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her temple. When he pulled back, she saw the minuscule earbud.
Giggling girls broke the spell. All gazes flew to the door where plaid and ponytails filled the entrance.
“Hi, girls,” Jacki greeted and nodded toward the back of the dining area. “Go ahead. I’ll be over in a second.” She finished the silverware she was rolling. “You want menus?”
A chorus of high-voiced ‘No, thank yous’ filled the air as they passed Gwen and the two men.
She glanced out the large windows facing the street and saw the local high school boys. A few feet behind them were five Middle Eastern youth. “Show time,” she announced quietly and unfastened her apron. Hurrying her steps, she grabbed her computer from under the counter and planted her butt on a round stool seconds before both sets of boys entered the restaurant.
After ordering, the Middle Eastern boys complained, in Arabic, for fifteen minutes about their overbearing parents. They hadn’t been allowed out of the house except for school, until that afternoon.
“You would think we had done something wrong,” one boy protested. “They worry the Americans will discover their plans and deport us before they can finish the caliphate’s plan.”
From the mirror, Gwen saw that was who she now referred to as number two.
“By this time next week, these American pigs will know the power of Allah and IS,” the scar-faced boy said with pride.
Gwen didn’t have time to think about the statement. All her concentration was on the conversation and getting her translation typed into the computer.
“American Airlines will pay for its failure fifteen years ago,” boy number three declared. “And al Qaida will see how the true caliphate—” Makes things happen? Gwen wasn’t sure what the boy’s words meant. Dialects could be a bitch.
“My Uncle Aqil is so clever. No one will ever find the bombs.”
Gwen was so stunned by the declaration she forgot to look to see which boy had said that.Damn it. Focus. But they had a name. Finally.
“Your Uncle Aqil is so old he probably can’t remember where he put them all.”
Gwen looked up in time to see that was number two talking.
“He has lived in America too long,” number three said. “He smokes. So smelly.”
“That’s part of his blanket,” number one said.
No, not blanket,cover. The man had been here undercover.
“Here you go boys,” Jacki’s friendly voice broke the conversation.
“Thank you,” many said in English.
“More soda?” the waitress asked.
“Yes, please,” numbers two and three said.
“I’ll be right back with those.” Jacki was so good with everyone.
“Boys,” Scar-Face said in English then switched to Arabic. “I am a man and would show her, over and over again.”
All the boys looked at Jacki, laughing and leering.
Gwen’s blood ran cold. Would they try to kidnap her? She’d feared something like that since the first time they’d come in and bragged about having sex.
