weapon in the holster”. McCoy did not realize he still held it in his hands. He holstered the weapon. He looked and saw his opponent with a hole in his forehead. “You may return to your quarters”. It was over, McCoy half expected to be shot by an unseen gunman. He entered through the same door, new clothes hung in plain sight. A voice came out of the air, “Please put on these clothes so the old ones can be discarded, shower first, use the soap, it will wash away on reside”. He showered, changed, sat in silence. Another door opened, another man “please follow me”, McCoy complied.
They cam to an elevator, “please put this cover on”. He slid the cover over his head. “Take hold of my arm”, he was guided outside, a door opened, please slower your head”, he slid into a car. The door was shut, he heard the crackle of an intercom. “Relax, do not touch the hood”. He felt the powerful acceleration of the engine. They must have drove for an hour, finally the car came to a full stop. “Remove your hood, open the door”. He stepped out into the bright sunshine, it appeared he was at a private air strip, he was motioned to the stairs of the private jet.
He was greeted by another man, “have a seat, we will leave momentarily. ” True to his word they taxied and were airborne within minutes. The man appeared, “are you thirsty or hungry”, McCoy looked at the man like he was speaking an alien language, it took a moment, “Just some water”, the man exited and reappeared with an ice bucket, and two different liter bottles of water. He placed them on the tray with a crystal glass. “Water, ice,”, he pointed to one bottle “plain, bubbled” to the other.
“Is that all? McCoy nodded, “buzzer on the arm rest if you need anything” The man left, McCoy was alone in the private cabin. Four hours later he heard, “prepare for landing”, he fastened his seat-belt. The aircraft banked smoothly as it ascended into the NYC metro area airport. A car was waiting, he got in. McCoy lived in NYC, Manhattan, he rented a small studio. He remained silent in the large limousine, attempting to put the events together, feeling like they could not really be true. The car stopped at a pre-war building on Sutton Place, one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Manhattan.
He was just about ready to mention to the driver about the mistake in location when the door opened. Before McCoy could move his original contact slide in, taking the opposite seat in the large car. McCoy did not know what to make of the man being there. Before McCoy could respond, the man started. “I’m here to debrief you”, “understandable if your a bit out of sorts”, “its natural”. He went on to explain that the spectators were more then pleased with his performance, along with his compensation they wanted to express further gratitude, think of it like a bonus he was told.
A unit has been bought, two bedroom two bath, high floor. Here is the title in your name. The man passed over a manila envelope. “Here are the keys, the listing real estate agent is in the lobby waiting for you to show you around. ” “We can speak later in the week, inside is a number, call it and ask to speak to me and you’ll be put through. ” “The group hopes you will consider another contest, we can speak about that later after you’ve had time to get back to your routine”. The man extended his hand, “Thank-you”, McCoy just starred at him, twenty seconds, thirty seconds. Very well”, he said, retracted his hand and lightly tapped the divider. The door was opened, “have a good day, the agent will recognize you when you enter the lobby” McCoy got out, the door closed, the car moved slowly out of the circular drive. McCoy stood for a second, looked at the impressive building.
Compared it to his walk-up studio over on 9th avenue, three hundred and fifty square feet, one thousand dollars a month, high crime, bottom floor. He opened the envelope and saw square feet, three thousand. That is one of the nconsistencies about life in Manhattan. There was no space, however everyone craved space. He moved towards the entrance of the building and was greeted by the doorman, he walked in, a young attractive woman moved towards him, extended her hand, he shook her hand by way of introduction. “Hello, I’m Kathy, I’m here to show you the unit you purchased” McCoy decided it would be impolite not to take a tour. “I’m Colt” he replied, she smiled and said “Nice to meet you Colt, follow me” His counterpart was born in 1953 in Tehran.
Sadaf Dhahir was born to an elite family with great wealth and influence and part of the majority religion in Iran, Shiite. She never had Television as a child, it was forbidden, like most things from the west. The interesting thing about Islam is the structure it provides within the society that makes most of the decision for you. There is not much room for mobility within the culture which means most people know where they fit. This did not apply to Abdul, she was born into a large family and was favored by her father. By itself this would be enough to guarantee a good life.
She was also blessed with beauty and had a natural brilliance in chemistry. At a very young age this was obvious as she mastered complex formulas by age eight. By age sixteen she had completed her Masters degree in chemistry, by eighteen a PhD. In most Muslim cultures the path of a woman is defined, for Abdul the path was anything but routine or normal. Being blessed in Islam takes on a whole new concept. She was special, but since all things come from Allah, it was stressed that she had equally special obligations to spread the word.
She started teaching chemistry at the University of Tehran at age twenty. As world politics became more intimate, sides had to be chosen and in this part of the world wrong selections could be fatal. At twenty two it was time for her to meet someone and as a dutiful daughter she complied. Her life seemed to be blessed as her family made arrangements with a family of similar means. With great apprehension she was presented to her betrothed and remarkably she was impressed. He was a young Bedouin man whose family was the head of one of the local tribes, in essences royalty.
They were married six months later and within nine months she presented the families with a grandchild, subsequently following up with two more children in rapid succession. Her husband was embroiled in politics and highly regarded. It was 1978 and she did not have a concern in the world. This was all going to change in a dramatic sense, in the moment she was happy. In 1980 she was summoned to auditor”, “No, I can give it writing if you like” and so it went, the man had an answer for everything, like he had
