Jihad

CHAPTER 152

Dabir got out of the taxi and walked into the hotel, trying not to let fatigue lower his guard. The clerk at the Holiday Inn had been a snotty kid, full of American arrogance toward strangers, taking glee in predicting that he would not find a hotel with a free room until next Monday. That behavior would never be tolerated in Europe, thought Dabir, let alone in an Arab country, where guests were to be treated with honor and respect.

He would remember the kid when he coordinated his first attack here. It would inspire him.

“Oh, there you are,” said one of the passengers from the plane, passing him in the lobby. It was the Asian-American woman named Li. “We wondered what had happened to you.”

“I decided to see if a friend was home,” lied Dabir. “But he wasn’t.”

“Oh, too bad. Well, listen. There’s a restaurant up the street. Some of us are checking it out.”

“No, thank you.”

“There’s no room service,” she added. “But they do have a little coffee shop around the back through that door. You can take the steps. See you on the plane in the morning.”

Dabir presented his voucher to the clerk, who immediately punched it into his computer and retrieved a key for him.

“You can leave your bag, sir,” added the man. “We’ll bring it right up to you.”

“No, that’s all right.” said Dabir, who was nonetheless pleased to see that at least some employees here had manners. “Thank you, though.”

“Elevator right there. I’m sorry that you were inconvenienced at the airport. It’s really unusual.”

The room was good sized. The desk clerk’s polite manner had mollified Dabir somewhat and he found himself actually regretting that he hadn’t gone to dinner.

The woman was attractive. It might have been enjoyable to spend a few hours with her.

Dangerous, though. It would mean lowering his guard, something he must not, could not do. Besides, she was an American, a nonbeliever who, at heart, was his enemy.

Dabir decided he was feeling hungry rather than lonely, and after washing up went to find the hotel cafe she had mentioned. The stairs were at the end of the hall; he pushed open the door, took a step, then felt himself falling backwards. The back of his head seemed to pop, and everything went black.