21

 

A few miles east of Vancouver, BC, Hasan scanned the 60s era motel as he drove down Kingsway in Burnaby. “Cheap motels in Burnaby. The website was truthful.”

Arissa shook her head. “I will give you truthful, Hasan. This makes our suite in Whistler look like paradise.”

He turned onto a side street and entered the parking lot behind the motel. “Prepare yourself, Arissa. We may be here for a while, because we cannot cross the border and—”

“I know. And because of the two agents we cannot go back to Whistler. Who would have thought those two, hardly more than children, would be agents, spies?”

He pulled into a parking space. “But they were well trained, very intelligent. The girl, so feminine, so beautiful, yet she fought like a tiger. A Japanese tiger. Come. We will set up our operations here. This is a friendly, family owned motel. They will not ask questions.”

“And you did not ask the girl questions, Hasan. We still don’t know how much she knows. Are you sure we can continue without modifying our plan?”

“She accessed my hard drive. But nothing on my hard drive gave times or specific locations. I’m certain that she only knew the method of delivery…and taunted me with it. I believe if she knew more, she would’ve taunted me with that, also. For one so young, she is a dangerous foe. When our business is concluded, if it is possible, the beautiful infidel and her accomplice should die to pay for interfering with the holy war.”

“Are you sure that it is not personal vengeance you want? When the cut on your head heals, handsome Hasan will wear a permanent scar on his face.”

“Do not taunt me, Arissa. You are no match for this girl, not in any way. She is strong as a man, throws like an American—what is it they call them—a baseball pitcher? And she is smarter than you, bright Arissa.”

“And I suppose more beautiful in your eyes?”

“How can you be jealous of an infidel woman?”

“Because she has captured your mind. You are obsessed with the blonde-haired girl. You are not thinking like—”

“Enough! We need to stop this pointless discussion and check into our room.” He opened his door and slid out.

Arissa met him at the trunk of the sedan.

Hasan opened it and pulled out a suitcase. He set it down by her feet. “From now on, we are merely tourists.”

“Just like at Whistler?” She eyed him with a smirk on her lips.

“No. Not like Whistler. Here we assume everyone is our enemy. If anyone is too curious, we kill them using the method we should have used on the blonde princess and the man with her.”

“So now she is a princess? See, you are—”

“Enough, Arissa! One more word about the girl and I will declare you a disobedient wife. You know what I can—”

“Ha! There is no Sharia law in Canada.”

“Not yet. But we are in the center of a Muslim community. No one will interfere if I discipline you. I think you have spent too much time among the western infidels. You were never so disrespectful, so disobedient, at home.”

Arissa pulled the handle out on her bag and turned away from him, toward the motel entrance.

“Arissa…bright. She does not live up to her name,” he muttered as he followed his dark-haired wife and recalled the beauty of the golden-haired girl.