Page 231 of Whisper
George said nothing. Kris waited.
“Sixteen years, George, we’ve been together. You and me. We’ve had our problems, I know. But I know Dawood is right. I know he’s with us. I know he’s trying to help. We need to help him, too.”
Keyboard keys clicked, George typing on his end. “It’s pinging the network now. Hold on… It’s triangulating…”
Kris held his breath. Almost whimpered.
“Deanwood. Southeast DC.” George rattled off an address, something in the middle of the urban neighborhoods, a tangle of homes and warehouses that bordered Anacostia and the urban waterfront.
“I’m closest.” Kris grabbed Dan’s keys off the counter. Dan’s weapon lay outside the circle of light, on its side. He grabbed that, too. “I’m on my way now.”
“Kris,no. Don’t go. Wait for the FBI. I’ll call them now, get the response teams over there immediately.”
“The FBI takes at least an hour to coordinate a monkey shit fight, George. I’m not waiting for anything or anyone. They’ll be too late. I’m going in. I’m going to my husband.”
“Kris—”
“I will never leave him behind. Not again.” He jogged to Dan’s car, turned the key in the ignition. The electric car spun up silently.
“What about Dan?”
“I hope he’s still alive.” Damn it, Kris’s heart was screaming. But the only thing he could do was run forward. Face his choices head on. Face destiny. Walk the path. “Send the FBI in. But I’m going now.”
“Kris… Be careful.”
He put the car in reverse and gunned the engine.
Deanwood
Washington DC
September 10
2300 hours
Dawood kneeled in prayer, his hands held open before him, whispering to Allah. “Make the best of my days the last of my days, Oh Lord. The best of my deeds the last of them, and the best of my days the day upon which I will meet You.”
He was ready.
He waited inside the decrepit remains of a long-abandoned warehouse, one in a string of industrial black holes on the south side of Deanwood. Just to the south, the urban grit of Anacostia and the shipping channel to the southeast of DC began. He was in the forgotten corner of the capital that languished in disrepair and disquiet.
It was the perfect place to hide in plain sight, and the perfect place to stage an attack.
“Oh, you who believe, be persistently standing firm for Allah. Be witnesses for justice, and do not let the hatred of people prevent you from being just. For justice is nearer to righteousness.” He recited verses of the Quran, trying to center his soul. He tried to set his fate in Allah’s hands, tried to quiet his mind, his heart. “He has the keys to the unseen. No one knows but Him. No leaf falls without His knowledge, nor is there a single grain in the darkness of the earth, or anything fresh or withered, that is not written in His heart.”
His thoughts turned, always, to Kris.
You must follow the path Allah has laid out for you.
Even if it broke his heart, shattered his soul, and took him away from Kris.
Even if Kris, in the end, became someone else’s,lovedsomeone else.
For justice is nearer to righteousness.
I will love you forever,ya rouhi. In this life, and the next.
Outside, car tires crunched on gravel, chewed through the silence of the abandoned night. A car door slammed.
