Solomon's Gold

CHAPTER 36

The storage unit was cold and uncomfortable. Amin and Hamid had moved the pallet with the air compressors out of the van and had started stripping away the plastic shrink wrap surrounding the cylinders. Amin moved carefully, even though he knew that the canisters with the sarin were in the center, hidden inside two false compressors. They were unobtrusively marked to set them apart from the others. There was no need to worry about picking the wrong ones. Even so, being in the same room with something that brought such a horrible death was enough to make him nervous.

"Why doesn't Dayoud help with any of this?"

"Stop complaining, Amin. He's busy. He'll be here soon."

"I don't trust him. He seems eager to sample the temptations that surround us."

Hamid pulled away a particularly difficult piece of the sticky plastic.

"What do you mean? You better hadn't let him hear you say that."

"You know what I mean. He spends his time looking at women, reading those magazines. I think he drinks liquor when no one's watching."

"You can't blame him. On our last night, I want to go to one of those places where they dance on poles and drink tequila."

Amin was shocked.

"Tequila?"

"I have heard that it is easy to have a good time when you're drinking tequila. Not like whiskey or that weak beer Americans drink."

"How would you know about their beer?"

"Don't be naïve, Amin. Haven't you ever been tempted to take a drink?"

"No. It is haram, forbidden."

"Then you're in for a treat. I think Dayoud wants us to celebrate before we strike at the Jews. Remember, in the service of Allah during Jihad, nothing is forbidden."

Someone knocked on the door of the storage unit. Hamid took out a pistol.

"Yes."

"It's me, Dayoud. Open up."

Hamid put the pistol back in his belt. He lifted the door far enough for Dayoud to slip under and closed it again.

No one seeing Dayoud would give him more than a casual glance. He was a small man, two inches shorter than Hamid's five foot ten. His hair was black and thick, set with gel that made it glisten. He wore a down jacket that was too big for him, a white shirt and jeans. The cheap cologne he wore was a little too sweet smelling. If anything, he looked like someone who might be lost, not like the vicious fanatic he actually was.

Dayoud had always been cruel. As a boy, he had tortured animals and bullied his peers, even those bigger than he was. Now he had a chance to inflict one of the worst deaths imaginable on some of the most important Jews in the world. Every time he thought about it, it brought a smile to his lips.

"You should have had this unwrapped by now," he said.

Behind Dayoud's back, Amin raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes.

"It's almost done, Dayoud," Hamid said.

"This far ahead of the conference, full security is not yet in place," Dayoud said. "We will set up tomorrow. Amin, you keep working on the pallet. Separate the real compressors from the gas. Put them over by the wall. Hamid, you and I will prepare the van."

Amin shrugged. "As you wish, Dayoud."

While Amin began moving air compressors off the pallet, Hamid and Dayoud opened the doors in the back of the van.

"You take that end," Dayoud said.

The two men took out a long magnetic sign that had been prepared weeks before. It wasn't heavy, but it was awkward for one man to handle it. They held it up near the van.

Dayoud eyeballed it. "Let your end down a little. All right, that's good."

They stuck the sign on the side of the van and stepped back to look at their work.

A Brooklyn address, a local phone number, and a contractor's license number were listed underneath. It was an excellent sign. The lettering looked as though it had been painted on.

"Now the other side," Dayoud said.

This one proved harder to get right, but in the end it was lined up perfectly with the one on the opposite side of the van.

They stepped back to observe their work.

"We'll park in the service alley, behind the hotel," Dayoud said.

Amin set a compressor against the wall and looked at the sign. "Why should they let us park there?"

"We have a work order from the chief engineer of the hotel to inspect the heating and cooling system. We are to make sure it's in compliance with the new city regulations. No one will think anything about us looking at the machinery and ductwork. It's an official order. It will stand up to anyone's inspection."

"What if the chief engineer sees us? He'll interfere."

"The chief engineer has been taken ill. His subordinate is currently in charge. The man is little more than a janitor."

"How did that happen?"

"You ask too many questions, Amin," Dayoud said.

"I'm sorry, I just wondered…"

"Well, stop wondering. Have you finished yet?"

"Almost. There is only one more compressor."

"Hamid, give him a hand."

Hamid and Amin wrestled the last compressor over to the wall. Then they moved to the two cylinders containing the sarin gas.

"Do I have to remind you to be careful?" Dayoud asked.

Amin reached for the first cylinder.

"Look out!" Dayoud shouted.

Amin jumped back in alarm. Dayoud and Hamid began laughing.

"That's not funny," Amin said.

Dayoud grinned at him. "Get them off the pallet and move them to the back of the truck."

He climbed into the van. A metal screen divided the passenger compartment from the cargo area. On the right side of the van was a gray toolbox containing the gear they needed to rig the release of the gas at the right time. A metal rack ran the width of the vehicle behind the front seat. Hamid and Amin lifted the cylinder up into the van. Dayoud moved the cylinder to the rack and secured it with strapping, tight against the screen behind the passenger compartment. He did the same with the second cylinder.

"God willing, everything will be in place tomorrow morning," Dayoud said. "They won't find it. We'll set the timer for the afternoon of the first day of the conference, when the Israeli prime minister is speaking. The American president will be standing nearby"

"It will be a great victory," Hamid said.

"As God wills," Dayoud said.