The Sexual Assistant

Chapter 11

Colonel Buffy woke up to the sight of Harris Harrison leaning over her hospital bed and staring at her quizzically.

"Oh, God, not you again," said Buffy.

"Yep," replied Harris, "just checking in to see how you are doing."

Buffy had suffered two broken eardrums from the force of the blast. The elevator had saved her from the primary concussion wave and the shrapnel. However, she was exposed to smoke longer than Harris. This required her to undergo extensive respiratory therapy over the past few days. She was still bedridden with supplemental oxygen was being fed to her through a nose tube.

Harris, on the other hand, got off reasonably lightly. He had second degree burns in a few places, smoke inhalation, and several scrapes on his face and arms. He only had to stay in the hospital for one day. Only his arm and face dressings showed he had been injured.

"Did you find Jade?" asked Buffy, changing the subject.

"Not a trace," responded Harris sadly. "Her beacon could not be found. Our commander sent out the frequency to other intelligence units in the Mid-East, but I doubt anyone will waste any time looking for her."

"Well, at least we got the information we needed," said Buffy. "That and our injuries are a ticket home."

"Any word on who tried to kill us?" asked Harris.

"Hezbollah," she responded, "and they were not after us, exactly."

"What?" Harris said with surprise.

"It seems that someone spotted American looking people coming in and out of the travel agency on the first floor. The local tough guys figured it was part of an Israeli spy operation. They were after the first floor. Had they known we were on the second floor; they would have put the bomb upstairs."

"Casualty count?" asked Harris.

"One of our people, the three people working downstairs, and the bomber," replied Buffy without emotion.

"Who killed Nadheer?" Harris inquired.

"That's an interesting one," reported Buffy. "Iran set that one up. It seems they have been watching him as a potential leak for information on operations in Yemen."

"Interesting," observed Harris. "Now, what happens?"

"That's up to the major players," stated Buffy. "Not us amateurs."

As Buffy was chatting with Harris, one of the major players was in motion. Out in the Red Sea, a team of combat specialists, intelligence officers, and drones of the United States Department of Defense were making their plans.

#

The Beirut cleaners had done their job well. Hadheer's body was tossed into a shipping trunk and carted out of the hotel to a waiting delivery truck. Jade had been disconnected from power and packed into another crate. With both trunks on the truck, the cleaners drove straight to the docks of Beirut. Here they loaded the trunks onboard a small packet freighter. The mostly Somalian crew were former pirates now pursuing a different illegal career.

The cleaning crew gave the Captain of the small vessel an envelope filled with money and then drove away. The small ship pulled away from the docks a few minutes later. They headed West into the Mediterranean Sea. Soon, Beirut was out of sight.

"Time to dump our cargo," announced the Captain to the crew.

Several men pulled at the trunk containing Nadheer Abdo's body. They dragged the chest to the stern of the ship and paused long enough to open the lid. The put several heavy pieces of iron parts in the trunk to help it sink faster. Then they secured the cover and tossed the trunk overboard. It vanished quickly into the depths.