To Convince a Witness
1727 Words
7
To Convince a Witness
Shanghai Mung Asian Bistro, W. Thirty-Second Street, New York. About one and a half blocks from Petrolsoft HQ.
Jana rung her hands for the third time on the short elevator ride down to the lobby. What in the hell am I doing? She thought to herself. I mean, this guy could be a psycho. But no, she rationalized, psychos don’t walk up to you like that. This is something else, something bigger. She was beginning to talk to herself on the short walk. “I’m going to peek my head in there and see if I spot him. Then I’ll decide.”
To Jana the walk to the restaurant felt like it took forever. As one foot stepped in front of the other, she felt like the sidewalk was moving backwards, as if she was moving in slow motion. Her nerves were getting the better of her.
The street was bustling. By this time of day all the delivery trucks had cleared, but cars jammed the one-way street and a few honked their horns. The sidewalk was clogged with humanity moving in both directions and Jana felt claustrophobic.
When she got to the restaurant, she peered into the large front window, but the reflection was so strong the only thing she could see was herself. The front door burst open and four Chinese businessmen walked out, the aroma of fresh-sautéed Kung Pau chicken followed them. She leaned into the door and scanned the crowded tables. Most were full and several people stood to the side, waiting to be seated. But as the door swung closed, it almost hit her in the head.
Oh, this is crazy, she thought as the grip on her purse tightened. What was I thinking? But no sooner had she turned to walk away did the man lean his way through the door. He had shed his business jacket and his tie was loosened. He raised a white paper napkin to wipe the glistening perspiration off his forehead and said, “You’ve got to try the Kung Pau. Spicy as hell.”
She clutched her purse tighter but was again disarmed by the familiar look of sedate calmness in his eyes.
Jana hesitated.
“Really, it’s a full restaurant,” he said with a smile. “You’re perfectly safe. Come on.” He pushed the door open wider.
She followed him inside, shuffling sideways through the tight rows of tables. It wasn’t until he went to sit down that Jana noticed a holstered firearm tucked against the back of his right hip. “Have a seat,” he motioned. “Are you up for the challenge?”
For the first time, Jana spoke. “What challenge?”
“The Kung Pau. It’s a killer.”
Jana glanced at his half-eaten plate of food.
A woman dressed in traditional Chinese waitress attire leaned in. “Are you ready, ma’am? What can I get you?” she said with a pad and pen in hand.
“Ah, I’ll have the Kung Pau, and a glass of sweet tea, please.”
“Ma’am?”
The man smiled as he stabbed another piece of chicken with his fork. “I don’t think the sweetened brewed tea you grew up with on your grandfather’s farm is something the New York crowd knows much about.”
“Hot tea is fine,” Jana said to the waitress, who disappeared toward the kitchen as quickly as she had arrived. “Who are you, and why do you know so much about me?”
“Sorry for all the secrecy.” He held out his hand. “Special Agent Chuck Stone, FBI.”
“FBI? What does the FBI want with me?” Jana thought further. “Can I see your credentials, please?”
He held out an aged leather wallet that enclosed his badge and identification. “You said something about not mentioning our meeting with my employer.”
“Let me get right to the point, Miss Baker. We’ve done a thorough background check on you. Sorry. We do that kind of thing before we approach someone.”
Again, thought Jana, it’s the eyes. And something about when he smiles. The way the skin crinkles around the eyes. He reminds me of . . .
“And why did you do that?” she said as she grabbed his wrist, the act blocking his fork’s path to his mouth.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch breakfast. We run backgrounds on people before we approach them to ask for their help in a case.”
“What kind of case?”
“Miss Baker, before I go any further, you have to understand, I brought you here because it would be nearly impossible for us to be eavesdropped on. This place is packed with the local Asian community. This conversation, the one you and I are having? It can never make it back to your employer.”
“Why not?”
He scanned the other diners and spoke just loud enough to be heard over the bustling conversations. “Because it would be a felony for you to act in a manner that would jeopardize a federal investigation.”
“You’re investigating Petrolsoft? My employer isn’t a criminal organization, Agent Stone. What is it you think they have done?”
“Well, nothing yet. But it’s who your boss is talking to that has us concerned.”
“Mr. Dima?” Jana said as she crossed her arms. “You’re investigating Rune Dima? He’s as gentle as a kitten.” Jana’s forehead furled.
“Not Rune Dima, Jeffrey Dima, the CFO.”
“I’m the assistant to the chief executive officer, but yes, I suppose you could say I also work for the CFO. But let’s stop right there. Is it a crime in this country to talk to someone? Who is he talking to?”
Agent Stone’s eyes became cold. “Abu Adim Al-Jawary, a Syrian national.”
Jana began to feel heat rise around her collar and she shifted in her seat.
“And who is that?”
“Al-Jawary is the number three in Al-Qaeda, Miss Baker. That’s right, Al-Qaeda, the terror organization founded by none other than Osama bin Laden himself, a name I’m sure you are familiar with.”
She leaned toward him. “Let me see if I get this right. You think Jeffrey Dima is talking to terrorists? Are you out of your mind?”
“It’s not that I think he’s talking to terrorists, Miss Baker. A communiqué from Al-Jawary was intercepted by the National Security Agency. It originated in Aleppo, Syria, from an encrypted cell phone believed used by Al-Jawary, and was sent to none other than your CFO, Jeffrey Dima.”
“I don’t believe you,” Jana said as she squirmed in her seat.
The waitress returned and placed a plate of sizzling food in front of her. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thank you,” Stone said while maintaining eye contact with Jana. The waitress departed. “Miss Baker, I’ve been doing this for twenty-three years. I know what I’m doing.” His eyes drifted toward the front door, where more patrons exited. He then looked Jana in the eye. “You believe me. You just don’t want to believe me.” He took a bite of food. “If I’m in your shoes, I’m thinking the same thing. You’ve scored the perfect internship. The things you’ll learn about international business working at the side of one of the most successful CEOs in North America. It’s got to have its allure. But make no mistake, Miss Baker, this is real and it’s happening right underneath your nose.”
Jana fought the flush forming on her face and neck. “Why me? Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because we need your help. We need someone on the inside.”
“You want me to spy on my boss?”
“Yes.”
“Well I won’t do it. I already told you, Rune Dima is as gentle as a kitten. And Jeffrey, well Jeffrey is a bit of a prick, but he hardly seems the type. He wouldn’t be involved in anything like this.”
She stood to leave but Stone placed a gentle hand on her wrist and held it.
“You stay, I’ll go. This has all got to be overwhelming for you, but you believe it.” He stood and wiped his mouth, then dropped two twenty-dollar bills on the table. As Jana sat back down, he leaned his hands onto the table. “Jana, we’re going to take Jeffrey Dima down, and when we do, we’re taking others with him. We always do. You can either be part of the solution, or get swept up in the investigation. It’s your choice.” He threw his business jacket on. “Eat something. You look pale, it will be good for you. I’ll be in touch.” Before he left, he said one last thing. “Jana, remember, I’m one of the good guys.”
Jana’s eyes followed him as he disappeared out the door.
She shook her head and looked at the steam rising from her plate. “Three weeks on the internship of a lifetime, and I end up working in a pit of vipers. Nice going, Jana. Welcome to New York.”
The encounter left her asking as many questions as had just been answered. But what overpowered her was a new-felt fear, the fear that Agent Stone was right. He was one of the good guys. How she knew that she wasn’t sure, but she kept thinking about his eyes. There was something so familiar, so safe, about them. Looking into them reminded her of growing up. It was a feeling she couldn’t shake. He was disarming and somehow Jana felt comfortable with him.
Her mind drifted back to childhood, a time when things were so clear and simple. It had all gone bad one terrible day in second grade. She remembered it with vivid clarity. She had been sitting in class when the school nurse had come and whispered something to the teacher, Miss Hancock. “Jana?” the teacher said, her voice soft like silk sheets. “Can you take your book bag and get your coat? Miss Peterson will walk with you.” Jana had no idea why she would need to leave class, much less leave the school, but complied without hesitation. The school nurse took her hand and walked to the principal’s office. Jana’s stomach quelled into nervous rumbling. There, through the glass, Jana could see a uniformed sheriff’s deputy. She had no idea what was about to happen, but the feeling she was in some kind of trouble was overwhelming, and her hands began to shake. The deputy knelt down on one knee and said something she never forgot. “There’s been a terrible accident, a car accident. Miss Baker, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your mother has been killed.” Jana heard nothing after that, although her memory recorded the vision of mouths moving.
Jana’s world came crashing down that bleak winter morning, and now as an adult, she wasn’t sure she had ever recovered.
- Writer
