B.A. Hammer Returns Ch. 01

Things proceeded nicely. My business was growing, and Mary was doing very well in "Chicago". She got invited to the Tony Awards Show as a member. She won't be nominated for anything because she is in a long running show, but we had a great time anyway. Between her and my work in the industry, we knew most of the people there. The after parties were a lot of fun.

However, when I offered Mary a drink, she refused, sheepishly. "I'm sorry, but I can't drink right now." I looked at her and she nodded and smiled. "I'm pregnant. I've known for a couple of days, but I wanted to tell you here."

I picked the little mother up and held her for the longest time. She started crying and all the people around us began congratulating us and shaking my hand. It was a GREAT night. Mary was toasted into the night. She drank a lot of water and I got wasted.

I woke up in our bed the next morning, not sure how I got there.

"Well, look who's awake, sleepy head. I was getting ready to throw a glass of water on you."

"Please, not so loud. I'm happy you are pregnant, but I don't want to do that again. I think I'm staying right here all day." I threw the covers over my head, and she just laughed as she left the room.

I woke up later that night and went in to have dinner with her. We talked into the night about our new life. It was wonderful. I think back to the ex-cop being drummed out of the military with no prospects and look where I am now. I will never admit this, but I owe all of this to Fat Tony. I hope he never tries to make me repay him.

Of all the people in the world, there was no one I would be more surprised to see than the man who walked into my office a couple of days later. It was Ahmad, my old interpreter from Afghanistan. I was so stunned, I just stood there with my mouth open until he threw his arms around me. "So happy to see you, my old friend. I haven't seen you since they arrested you. I heard they were just sending you home, but I never got to see you again."

"Yeah, they weren't happy with me. I got the impression they would have liked to repay me in kind if they could have. I have often thought of you and your family. Is everyone okay?"

We sat down on my couch and Stephanie got us each a coffee.

"Everyone is fine. After you left, I was assigned to a Major. He was okay. When everything started going to shit, he pulled a few strings to get my family out of there. We came to New York. I became an interpreter for a large company with interests overseas."

I was very happy to see him. I would not have survived in Afghanistan without him. I have worried about him for years.

"So, are you here reminiscing, or is there something I can do for you?"

He smiled. "I always liked that you got right to the point. There was never any bullshit with you, and you never acted like my people were less than you. That is how we solved most of our cases. The Afghans liked you and trusted you, but there was no way they would ever talk to you, or any other American. The Taliban had ears everywhere. However, they would tell me things that we could use that I could give you."

I appreciated the compliment, but he still hadn't told me why he was here. I got worried when he got up and closed the door to my office. Ok, it's not a social call.

"Look, I don't like being here, but I'm afraid I may be in a corner. I would like to at least run a few things by you to get your opinion. You know this town and I need your advice now."

He is nervous. I know what he saw in Afghanistan, and if he is scared, he has a problem. "It's okay, Ahmad. You know I will do whatever I can for you. It' only fair. I wouldn't have survived in your country without you, and I will return the favor. What can I do for you?"

Ahmad smiled and sat back. He waited, thinking. "Are you familiar with American Independent Defense?"

"We've had an encounter or two."

Ahmad looked surprised. "You do get around, don't you?"

"I've been running around in different circles since I got back to New York."

"I guess. Let me start at the beginning. I told you I am an interpreter for a company with international interests. My company does a lot of business with AID. They provide protection for our overseas work forces."

I held up my hand. "I must ask you who your company is and what they do?"

Ahmad hesitated. He didn't want to tell me, and when I insisted, I found out why.

"I work for Redthorne."

Great, one of the biggest suppliers of military hardware around the world. AID is rumored to be one of Redthorne's biggest customers, as well as providing security.

"I know, but I didn't know who they were, and I needed a job to get out of Afghanistan. They brought me and my family to New York and they pay me very well. I translate invoices, manifests, etc. It's really very boring. Nothing that looks secret. They don't seem concerned about me seeing their transactions."

"Okay, so what's the problem?"

"Last week I was called to a meeting. As soon as I walked in, the big boss got excited and ordered me out. I picked up my papers and left."

"So now you're worried about what they may think you saw."

"No, it is who I saw they are worried about. It was Watson Carrington."

"I've heard that name somewhere. I think I've met him somewhere."

"He is Senator Minton's New York chief of staff."

"Hell, that's it. I met him in the Senator's office."

"GOD DAMN. You know the Senator too. You have certainly moved up in the world since you got here."

"Yeah, whatever. Do you have any idea why he was in a meeting with a large arms dealer and their security force?"

"Not a clue. But that won't stop them cutting their losses just above my shoulder blades."

I could see his point. If I was of their mind, I certainly wouldn't take any chances.

"It makes me wonder if the Senator is involved in anything nefarious. Or is his aide using his position to profit. Either way, you are in a very precarious position."

We sat and looked at each other for several minutes.

"The first thing we must do is protect your family. Do you have a place they could go for a couple of weeks that no one in your company knows about? Not family, they could find them there. Maybe Afghan friends no one knows about?"

"Yes. There is an old Afghan that is not a friend of mine. Everyone in Afghanistan knew we didn't get along. However, now he is a pipeline out of Afghanistan for refugees. I hate to ask, but if you talk to him, he might hide them somewhere across the country."

As much as I hated the idea, I knew he was right. He MIGHT help me, for future favors that I shuddered to even think about.

"You're right. It must be me. Are you going to be okay there for a few days? If you disappear now, they will know."

"Okay or not, I am staying until my family is safe. Whatever happens to me, happens. Allah will decide. His name is Muhammad Alee and he is based out of New York. I have a phone number and address for you."

"You came prepared, huh?"

"I have no choice. If you wouldn't call him, I would have to. I just think it would be much better coming from you."

"Why would he take a call from me or see me? He has no idea who I am."

"Well...." Ahmad looked pained. "I sort of primed the pump. I had people I know who know him to bring you up casually about you being a famous private investigator in New York who has helped people in the past."

I laughed. "Well, I guess there is nothing left to do but have the famous PI call and trade favor for favor and hope he bites."

Ahmad was so relieved he almost cried. He shook my hand over and over as he gave me the number.

This is something I don't need to get involved in. I will not help him smuggle his people into New York. I will have to find something else I can do for him.

This is going to be a mess.

I called the office of Muhammad Alee and asked for an appointment. I was passed around to several people until I finally was talking to a man who called himself Mr. Alee's assistant.

"What is the nature of your business, Mr. Hammer?"

"In my capacity as a private investigator I have come across information that will be harmful to some Afghan families in New York. Knowing Mr. Alee's work for Afghan families, I wish to inform him of this problem and seek his advice about certain matters. Thank you for your time and consideration in this matter."

The phone was quiet for so long I was beginning to wonder if he had just left when he finally came back to the phone.

"Mr. Alee will see you. Can you be here in the morning? He is leaving New York tomorrow afternoon, but he is aware of who you are and wishes to hear any information you may have concerning Afghan families in New York."

"Thank Mr. Alee for me. I will be there tomorrow at ten, if that is satisfactory?"

"Ten will be fine. We look forward to meeting you."

Oh great. I don't want to be obligated to this man. This could be bad.

I arrived a few minutes before ten to meet Muhammad Alee. I was escorted into a meeting room and was left alone. I guess we needed the obligatory "waiting for the big man" to arrive.

However, it didn't take very long before a grey-haired old man came slowly into the room. He gave the impression of a man with many burdens who was beginning to break under the load.

One look into his eyes told me he was not a troublemaker, but a man who has seen what endless war has done to his people. When he spoke my first impression was confirmed. He spoke slowly, but clearly.

"Mr. Hammer, I understand you might have information that might be of importance to my people in New York. Please speak to me now."

I couldn't help it; I liked the old man. "Mr. Alee, I have come across some information concerning arms shipments. I do not yet know how much is going to Afghanistan, but at the present time, Afghanistan is the destination of much of this company's inventory. The man who brought me this information is an Afghan, and he has brought considerable danger to himself and his family by doing this. I do not yet know to whom these arms are being shipped, but I am certain it is not the US military."

He sat immobile. "My country is buried in American hardware. When you eventually leave, you will abandon enough munitions to sustain the civil war for a hundred years. I don't see how you can change that or how I can help you."

"I am hoping you can, through your contacts, hide this man's family somewhere in America until we can finish the investigation. It may not help your country, but he is risking his life trying, and I must help him."

The old man closed his eyes and sat still. The weight of the silence fell over the room as I waited for him to decide what he was going to do.

'What is the name of this angel of mercy?"

The moment of truth. I might get run out of here on a rail in the next minute. "Abdul Muhammad Aziz."

The old man's eyes widened, and he suddenly spit on the floor. "That man helped Americans to slaughter our women and children. He asked us to help the Americans, and when we did, it was often us who suffered. Then, when things started getting bad, he ran away to America and left us to suffer alone. I will never help the devil. Allah forbids it." He started to stand up, but I stopped him.

"Mr. Alee, what you say is true. Aziz thought he was helping his people when he worked for the Americans. He tried to make the Americans not hurt the innocent. I am one of the Americans he helped. When a squad of American soldiers murdered an entire market of women and children, he came to me to help his people. I found the men that did that awful deed and brought them up on charges. When the authorities refused to charge them, Aziz helped me kill the two leaders of the squad. He knew then that some Americans were no better the Taliban. For the rest of his time in Afghanistan, he worked with an American Major to insulate your people from the American troops. He angered so many Americans, he had to be sent out of the country for his and his family's safety. Now, the companies that are shipping arms into your country are trying to kill him for exposing this fact. I don't ask you to do anything for him. I only ask you to protect his wife and children so he and I can continue to try and bring this company down for what they are doing to your country. I know little about your faith and laws, but I don't know if Allah would allow children to be killed for the sins of their father."

He sat back down and stroked his beard as he thought. At least he was still here. That was something.

"So, you are the man who avenged our people in that market? I respect that right is right, no matter what it costs. I thank you for the people of that village that had at least a little peace that justice was done for those people. I will help the woman and her children. You may have them brought here tomorrow. I will make arrangements to send them to a place they will be safe."

He slowly got up and started out of the room. He stopped at the doorway and turned to me. "By the way, Mr. Hammer, you are correct that you do not know our laws. Our laws say exactly that the sons are responsible for the sins of their fathers. However, we are in America now. I'm sure Allah will forgive me for this indulgence." And he walked out of the room.

Like I said, I like this man.