Death Run by Don Pendleton Page B

I can't see through what you are trying to do. Believe me when I tell you it will not work. Did you think I was joking when I said that if you did not cooperate, I would torture your family?"
    Maurstad lunged toward bin Osman, but he hadn't gone three feet before several Saudis subdued him.
    "You have had ample opportunity to prevent this from happening, but my patience has worn thin. The time has come for me to show you that I am serious." Bin Osman produced a curved dagger and began cutting the bag over the woman's head from the back to the front, slicing the heavy canvas with the sharp dagger as if it were tissue paper. The woman tried to scream, but a gag filled her mouth.
    "Remember, everything I do to your wife, I will then do to your daughter if you do not cooperate.
    "Nancy!" Maurstad shrieked to his wife, but was cut off in mid syllable by a fist into his jaw.
    "I regret having to do this," bin Osman lied — in reality he was excited about torturing Maurstad's wife.
    Bin Osman grabbed the front of the woman's dress, which had looked elegant and expensive on the morning that his men had kidnapped the Maurstad family as they returned home from church but now looked like a filthy collection of rags. Bin Osman sliced down the front of the dress. The opportunity to practice his art came far too seldom these days. As a member of Malaysia's elite upper class, bin Osman had been able to prey on Malaysia's impoverished lower classes as a young man, but a concerted effort to build the nation's middle class depleted the ranks of potential victims for the twisted man to torture. While studying abroad, bin Osman had sublimated his urge to torture by engaging in date rape at every possibility, but he'd had to curtail even that mild diversion as he'd rose in the ranks of the business world.
    When he'd had his religious awakening and devoted his life to
jihad,
he once again gained access to subjects on which to practice his art and he thanked Allah for every opportunity to do so. These days it was the closest thing he got to sexual release.
    Maurstad babbled, "All right, I'll do it. I'll finish putting together the explosive device. It will be ready to transport by midday tomorrow."
    Bin Osman was glad that the man had seen the light, pleased that he would do his part in implementing the Malaysian's plan, but he felt cheated of his fun with the Maurstad women. He would have to find some other means of relieving the tension that had built up in his groin.
    Maurstad had returned to work and bin Osman had left Nancy Maurstad tied up in the center of the room in order to motivate the scientist to do the job. When Jameed Botros entered the building, bin Osman could tell from the look on the Saudi's face that he wasn't going to like what Botros was about to say. Bin Osman decided to make the task as difficult as possible.
    "You have come to tell me that your man has taken care of this mad American, correct?" he asked Botros.
    "Not quite," Botros said.
    "I thought you sent your best man to kill him."
    "I did."
    "And the man failed. What does he have to say for himself?"
    "Nothing," Botros said. "Cooper just dumped his body in the middle of the garage complex."
    "He what?"
    "He drove a car into the garage complex and dumped our man's body on the floor. He'd been knifed and there wasn't a drop of blood left in him when the American threw him on the floor."
    "How is this possible?" bin Osman asked. "Did your men simply sit around and allow this to happen?"
    "No. One of my men attempted to shoot the American."
    "How did that work out?" bin Osman asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.
    "Cooper pulled his gun faster."
    Bin Osman gave the Saudi a look that he knew would make the man squirm in his skin. Who was this man who hounded his every step? He was no law enforcement officer — he killed with too much impunity to be associated with any law enforcement organization. And he was no soldier, at least not in any Western military