Louis adds, “Our associates liked you and said you worked extremely hard to complete all the data files.”
I say, “I like to keep busy. I enjoyed doing the work and I learned a lot of stuff. It was nice to live in Boston and visit Tennessee.”
Danny says, “Since you’re not having Christmas with us, why don’t you come over for New Year’s Eve.”
I answer. “You guys enjoy your New Year with your old friends and some of your new army buddies. We can get together after the New Year holiday. We can take care of business and go out to dinner too.”
It is Monday January 6, 2003. The new, year has started. I am at the lawyer’s office in the Empire State Building. Danny, Louis, Susan, and I are going over formal legal documents. Susan will dissolve L&J Incorporated. When I do the corporate taxes for L&J Incorporated it will be the final filing.
Danny and Louis are now partners in the new company, Molay Biotech Incorporated, which is registered in Massachusetts. My cousin Paul, the lawyer in Boston, will correspond with Susan, the lawyer in New York, pertaining to Molay Biotech’s legal affairs.
A trust fund, The L&J Living Trust Fund, is being set up. The firm in Silicon Valley, California has been notified that any checks written as payment for the L&J Incorporated computer program should be written to The L&J Living Trust Fund.
All assets of Louis and Danny are being placed into the trust fund. These include: Danny’s Westside condo, Louis’s Eastside apartment and all prior corporate assets from L&J Incorporated. All money earned from Molay Biotech Incorporated, will go into the trust. Danny and Louis have placed all their bond holdings and savings into the trust fund. They do not own any stocks.
When the stock market crashed in the year 2000, investors lost seven trillion dollars’ worth of assets. This was a staggering amount of money that was barely mentioned in the press. Although I am an extremely careful investor, I lost twenty-two thousand dollars. Daniel and Louis lost nothing. They had all their money invested in five and ten year United States Treasury Notes. I knew that these guys were very, very smart.
Danny and Louis are the main beneficiaries of the new living trust fund. If they become deceased, Susan and I as co-executors of the trust will distribute the fund’s assets as stated in the trust’s documents.
Louis and Danny offer me a full salary for the next two years.
I say, “No, you guys have paid me more than enough money. I’ll take care of the accounting records, bank accounts, taxes and rental of the apartments. Also, I will contact your business partners when necessary. I know you have expenses provided for me in the trust fund. That is enough money for me.”
In the late afternoon, Susan, Danny, Louis, and I have an early dinner at Divino’s Italian Restaurant on Second Avenue. We have two bottles of the house recommended red wine, a Merlot. I make sure I pay the bill.
On Friday, the seventeenth of January, Louis takes the train to my home in New Jersey. Daniel flew back to North Carolina from LaGuardia Airport on Thursday the sixteenth.
Saturday morning the eighteenth of January, I drive Louis to Fort Dix and McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey. Before 911, Fort Dix was an open base. However, after the attacks, all entrances to the base are guarded. When I drop Louis at the gate he says, “Have you ever been on this base before?”
I answer, “Yes, I have. There is a federal penitentiary on this base. Over the years I have visited friends here.”
I wish Louis luck. We shake hands. I turn the car around and leave. Louis is headed overseas. He did not tell me where he is going, nor did I ask him.
Chapter 31
Afghanistan
The war in Afghanistan has been going on since October 2001. Louis is trained in Dari, an Afghani official language. Obviously, Afghanistan is his overseas assignment. By reading some books and doing searches on the Internet, I learn some facts about Afghanistan.
Afghanistan is about the size of Texas. It is a land locked country. It is mostly a mountainous land with two arid plains. It is bordered by Iran on the west and part of the southwest. Pakistan borders Afghanistan on the east and most of the south. Countries on the northern border from west to east include: Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and China. There are approximately thirty million Afghans. The main ethnic groups are the Pashtu and the Tajik. Other tribal groups are: the Hazara, Uzbek, Amik, Turkmen, and Baloch. These tribes all speak in their own dialect. Afghan Persian or Dari and Pashtu are the official languages. The Dari language is similar to Farsi, the Persian-Iranian language. About eighty percent of Afghanis are Sunni Muslim and seventeen percent are Shia Muslim.
Opium is the main export from this impoverished land. The tribes in the north grow the poppy flower. Opium is extracted from the poppy. There are laboratories in Afghanistan that process raw opium into heroin. The source of eighty percent of the heroin in Europe comes from Afghanistan. In the 1960’s and 70’s, the raw opium from Afghanistan was shipped to laboratories in Marseilles and Sicily then processed into heroin. The heroin was sent to Europe and North America.
This is the time line to follow on Afghanistan. In 1978 there is a communist coup in Afghanistan. The Soviet Union controls a puppet government in Kabul. Kabul is the capital city of the country. In June 1978, the Mujahedeen movement is born to rid the country of the communists.
During the 1980’s, the Soviet Union fights a long drawn out war in Afghanistan. Eventually the Mujahedeen defeat the Soviets. The United States, through the Central Intelligence Agency, helps the Mujahedeen. The CIA supplies guns, money and training to the Mujahedeen. Osama Bin Laden, his radical Islamic soldiers, the Northern Alliance, and other Muslim groups are recipients of this aid. Iran and Pakistan also are involved in the internal affairs of Afghanistan. The Soviet invaders are defeated and withdraw from Afghanistan on February 15, 1989.
In 1992, the Mujahedeen sets up an Islamic state and the ruling Islamic Jihad Council. In 1994, because of intense friction among the nation’s different ethnic groups, the Taliban militia seizes power in Afghanistan. The Taliban are an extreme Islamic fundamentalist group. In 1996, the Taliban force women to be fully veiled. Women are no longer allowed to work. Men must grow beards. Buzkashi, the Afghan national sport is outlawed.
I saw a version of Buzkashi in the movie, The Man Who Would Be King. The story is from a Rudyard Kipling novel. The movie has Sean Connery and Michael Caine as the main protagonists. In the sport Buzkashi, a head is put into a bag and placed in the center of a field. Two opposing teams on horseback, bang the head around until a team scores a goal. The modern day version of Buzkashi uses a headless, goat carcass instead of the head of an enemy. The game is obviously great fun.
Some middle class Afghans leave the country when the Taliban assert authority. Many of these Afghanis move to the San Francisco, California area. I assume some of these immigrants teach Dari, Pashtu and other Afghani tribal dialects to military personnel at the language school in Monterrey.
In 2001, the Taliban destroy ancient historical statues in the Kabul museum. They destroy historical sites in Ghazni and blow up giant Bamiyan Buddhas built in the fifth century. I remember seeing the Buddhist shrine destroyed on television.
On March 19, 2003 I receive an email from Louis.
Louis says, “In two days, on the twenty-first of March, the Afghani celebrates New Years. I am sending this email from Bagram Airfield about one and a half hours ride from Kabul. When I left New Jersey in January, I flew to Ramstein Airbase in Germany. Before arriving in Afghanistan, I stopped in Turkey and Kyrgyzstan. Presently, I am stationed at Bagram. The weather is not as cold as last month. The winter weather has been dreary, miserable, cold, and snowy. I have had two assignments in Kabul with the International Security Force near the US Embassy. Most of my time is spent reading documents. My Dari language skills are improving. I am also learning Pashtu. My fellow soldiers and airmen are in good spirits. T
he weather is supposed to turn hot and dry in the summer. I prefer the warmer weather.”
Louis continues, “I will have fifteen days leave around Christmas. Hopefully, Danny will have leave about the same time. Are the New York apartments leased for the month of January 2004?”
My reply email states, “Both apartments are leased through January, 2004. You and Danny can stay with me in New Jersey. Take care of yourself.”
Chapter 32
Iraq
In early February, 2003, I had received a call from Danny. He said he would be going overseas and I would not be hearing from him for a while. He did not have any contact with Louis after he returned to North Carolina.
On March 20, 2003 the United States, Great Britain and a few other allies invade Iraq. Danny is a special, forces intelligence officer. He has Arabic language training. I assume he is part of the invasion into Iraq.
Through the months of April, May and June of 2003, I only receive short emails from Danny and Louis. They just say they are safe and working hard.
It is Monday, the twenty-first of July, 2003. I receive an email from Danny. It is the first time I have heard from him in a month.
Danny writes, “I am sending this email from the Green Zone in Baghdad. I have been in Iraq since late March. The first stop I made in the Middle East was Qatar. I was stationed there for a bit more than two months. I have been with the 82nd Airborne in Ramadi and Anbar Province.”
He continues, “The climate in July is unbelievable hot and dry. It must be close to 130 degrees Fahrenheit. Do you have any idea how miserably hot this is?”
Actually I did have an idea of the heat. Many years ago I was in San Luis Potosi, Mexico. It was 126 degrees Fahrenheit. I had to stop at a hotel because the car I was driving would overheat. The hotel room had a fan. There was no air conditioning. I could only rest on the bed and drink water. I was headed for Laredo, Texas. I left San Luis Potosi before 4 AM, when the air temperature had cooled down. I was stuck in that heat for only one day. It must be difficult to be in heat like that for many months.
The rest of Danny’s email is standard Department of Defense email that can be found on the Internet. The DOD email states: “The sand gets into everything. It jams the M16 rifles. I have a HK military .45 caliber pistol. It is a reliable weapon. The young soldiers like firing the M240 .308 caliber machine gun and the M2 .50 caliber heavy machine gun. Those large weapons stop the enemy. Some of the special operations guys use the Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle. They say it is a terrific weapon. The marine snipers use the M24 .308 sniper rifle. The enemy uses AK-47’s rifles and light machine guns. The enemy is no match for our trained troops and fire power. The rocket, propelled grenade is used against us with success. The RPG is easy for someone to learn how to handle. It maims and kills. The improvised explosive device, IED, is the main killer of our soldiers and marines. Iraqi civilians, police and soldiers are wounded more from the improvised explosive devices than anything else. The enemy wires artillery shells together and detonates them with a cell phone. These explosives blow up our vehicles. It is dangerous to drive.”
Danny’s long email continues. “The enemy comes from Syria, Saudi Arabia and Jordan, as well as Iraq. We have captured prisoners who do not speak Arabic. They speak Farsi and are from Iran. We have even captured insurgents from Chechnya. However with all the chaos, the moral of the soldiers and marines is high. My tour will be up Christmas time. See you then.”
My email reply is, “Louis and you are staying with me in New Jersey for Christmas. Be safe.”
I follow the war on the Internet. I see terrorists behead innocent human beings. I do not watch network news programs. I occasionally watch cable news. The networks and cable news organizations censor the war. The Internet does not censor anything. As time passes, I stop watching the videos of the killings. These videos give me nightmares.
Chapter 33
Back In Time
I have a nightmare. I wake up in a cold sweat. Since, I am unable to sleep, I go back in time.
It is early 1980’s. I have an easy job that pays lots of money. I am in Venice, Italy. I am not particularly fond of Venice. The Italian dialect spoken in Venice is different. They speak with a slight lisp. I don’t like the smell of the canals. The place reminds me of Seaside Heights, New Jersey. Both places are a bit sinister.
I am waiting to meet a man that I know, to give him a package. He is called the Welshman. I meet him in front of a hotel near the train station in Venice. I give the Welshman the package. He says, “Thanks.”
I leave.
At dusk, I decide to take a walk before dinner. I turn down an alley. I have never noticed any cars in Venice. I have only seen boats in the canals. An unmarked white van pulls in front of me. Suddenly, I get cracked on the right ear with a heavy object. I literally see stars before I pass out.
When I regain consciousness, I am in a gray room. There are four masked men in the room with me. My head hurts very badly. I have trouble breathing. Two guards have wrapped a wet towel over my mouth and nose. They have been drowning me a little at a time by dipping my head into a large, tub of water.
The interrogator asks me, “Who sent you?”
I answer, “The Controller.”
He says, “What is his name?”
I answer, “The Controller.”
“The name on the driver’s license and credit cards. Is this your name?”
“Yes,” I say. I realize that the Interrogator’s accent is American.
He says, “What is your business in Venice?”
I answer, “I am visiting a friend.”
Then he says, “What is your friend’s name?”
I answer, “The Welshman.”
This goes on for a while. One of the guards takes a cigarette and burns my left foot with it. Then the Interrogator begins the questions again. The torture goes on a while longer.
The fourth masked guy has been watching. He comes over. The two torturer guards pull my pants off. The fourth guy takes out a scalpel.
I wake up in a small private hospital. My left foot is bandaged. Gauss is plugged into my right ear. I look down. A doctor walks into the room. He says, “Don’t worry. You will be fine. I put some stitches in.”
I say, “What happened.”
The Doc says, “A surgeon circumcised you. You are completely intact.”
I thanked the Doc and God too.
In the evening the Welshman enters into my room. I ask him, “What happened.”
He says, “There is a tracking device on one of your credit cards. The Controller and I realized you were in trouble when we locked in on you. You were not at the hotel. You were in one location for over six hours. That would be too long to be in a restaurant, even in Italy.”
The Welshman speaks some more, “When we came into the place, you were out cold. There were two men. The Controller and I killed them both.”
I say, “There were four of them.” I figure the Welshman and Controller got the two torturer guards. That would leave the Interrogator and the Surgeon.
The Welshman asks, “Did you tell them anything?”
I report, “No.” Then I add, “If you ever find out about the other two guys, let me know.”
“Can you describe them in any way?” he asks.
I answer, “I never saw their faces. The Interrogator has an American accent. He speaks the way a television newsman does anywhere in the United States. The other guy, the Surgeon did not speak. He just cut and snipped.” I continue, “They are both your height, about six feet tall. They are thinly built. Their body odor is different, not like that of Europeans. They both smelled like soap.”
The Welshman says, “You’ll be OK.”
“Yeah, I guess so. This wasn’t the easy job, I thought it would be. I thought I was just the messenger, or perhaps a decoy, or something.”
The Welshm
an says, “The Controller will take care of you.”
The Controller still takes care of me. He sends me one thousand dollars every month. The check is from a trust fund located in Bermuda. From time to time, I make a delivery for him. The Controller has paid me lots of money over the years.
I was never completely OK after the incident in Venice. The crack on the right ear busted the eardrum. I have to sleep with two pillows propped up. If I lay flat, I get dizzy. My right eyelid droops a bit. It is slightly lower than the left eyelid. The eyelids used to be equal. I also have a little nip on the underside of my private part. My left foot healed perfectly. When I think about this incident, I know I am lucky.
Chapter 34
Back to Present
It is Thursday, December 25, 2003. Louis, Danny and I are having Christmas dinner together. They are both leaner and that all American bright, glow surrounding each of them is tinged with a few red spots. They look like a couple of Vietnam veterans I knew many, years ago. The souls of those Vietnam vets and the souls of Louis and Danny are the same.
We are having, baked ziti, sausage, meatballs, and salad for dinner. We are drinking red wine and club soda. During Christmas dinner, I ask Louis to explain, the Persian language to me.
He says, “The Persian language is an Indo-European language. It is different from Arabic. Originally the language was written in Pahlavi Script, from right to the left. The language is now written in Arabic symbols from right to left.”
I ask, “What is Pahlavi Script?”
Louis answers, “Pahlavi was an Iranian language used in Persia during the reign of the Sassanids.”
I say, “I better look up Sassanids on the Internet.”
He continues, “The Iranian Persian language is named Farsi-Dari. The Persian language in Afghanistan and Pakistan is called Dari. In Tajikistan and Uzbekistan the language is called Tajik. The differences would be like someone from England speaking to an American, or an American talking to an Australian. The people who speak formal Persian can all understand one another.”
Danny chimes in, “Standard Arabic, the Arabic on Al-Jezzara, can be understood throughout the Middle East. But the dialects are different in all the countries. Iraqi Arabic is different from Egyptian Arabic. The Arabic spoken in Lebanon and Syria is slightly different. Moroccan Arabic is not the quite same as the other dialects. Some of the tribes have dialects that only tribal members can understand.”