CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Michael and another officer, Captain Khalid Ibrahim, from the Germantown section of Philadelphia, left the 82nd’s base camp at 9 a.m., drove the mile to the refugee camp where they picked up the most current camp census, and then went twenty miles to Kumanovo. NATO military officers who had been working in the field with the refugees had been ordered to Kumanovo to brief NATO Headquarters representatives on their observations. The meeting lasted two hours and broke up at noon.
“What say we grab a bite here in town?” Khalid said when they walked out of the NATO offices.
“What’s the matter, Khalid, tired of Army rations?”
“In a word, yes!”
“Me too,” Michael said. He laughed and slapped Khalid on the back. “I hear there’s a great place a couple blocks from here that serves Middle Eastern food. The owner of the place, like most of the people around the area, is probably Muslim. When he hears your name he’ll treat you like a long-lost relative.”
“I doubt he has any relatives of the African persuasion. And what, with my luck, if the guy is an orthodox Christian – not Muslim. He’ll poison my food. So, do me a favor and keep your trap shut.”
Now behind the wheel of the Jeep, Michael laughed while he drove through the narrow Kumanovo streets, until he found the Sultan Restaurant. Parking across the street, he followed Khalid onto the restaurant patio and sat opposite his friend at an outdoor table under a grape arbor.
“These places are all beginning to look the same to me,” Khalid said. “Same small, square wooden tables and narrow cane chairs. Uneven brick floors on a sand base. Plastic flowers on red and white oil cloth-covered tables.”
“Well, excuse me, Khalid. Maybe we should just go back to the base and eat in the mess hall.”
“Asshole!” Khalid laughed. “I was about to say how much I love these quaint southern European restaurants.”
As they sat talking, Michael noticed a phone booth across the street.
“I wonder how my folks would feel about a collect call from Macedonia?”
“Why, they’d consider you the most thoughtful, loving son in the world,” Khalid said.
Michael smiled. “As usual, Khalid, you are a wise and thoughtful friend, and a fine student of human nature. You’ve made me realize I’d be a real bastard if I didn’t pick up the phone and call home – collect.”
He crossed the street and dialed the operator. In three minutes, he heard his father’s deep voice, “Yes, yes, I’ll accept the charges! Michael, Michael, can you hear me? Are you okay? It’s four o’clock in the morning.”
“Oh, Jesus, Dad. I didn’t even think about the time difference.”
“No, no. Don’t worry about that. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“I got your letter, Michael,” Bob said.
Damn! Michael thought. I wish I hadn’t sent it while I was still angry with Dad. “I’m sorry about the tone of the letter, Dad. But I was pretty steamed at the time.”
Liz’s voice suddenly came over the line. “Hi, I’m on the extension. What are you two talking about?”
“Honey, if you wouldn’t mind, could you give Michael and me a moment?”
Michael heard silence. He knew his mother wouldn’t like getting off the phone one bit.
“We’ll only be a minute. Then you can get back on again,” Bob said.
YOU ARE READING
EVIL DEEDS
Mystery / ThrillerEvil Deeds is the first in a 4-book series that follows the Danforth family from the kidnapping of their 2-year-old son in Greece in 1971 to present day. The book (and series) is a roller coaster ride of action and suspense. This book, as with all o...
