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Previously at 24 College Avenue: Sprinter Nicollette Mayle is competing in meets throughout Europe when the Prince
of Mubai offers her dual citizenship to compete for his country. She is
considering the offer in Berlin where she is to compete in a major track meet to
coincide with the World Cup. She runs into her housemate, Ahmed Muhammad, outside
the Hotel Brandenburg where the French team is staying. Ahmed uses the opportunity
to insult Zinedine Zidane’s family. When Zidane reacts angrily, security guards
pursue Ahmed and Nicollette through the streets of Berlin. Meanwhile, Josh
Williams is convinced that the tour group he was leading is really Muslim
fundamentalists planning a terrorist attack. The group steals his bus in Prague
but Josh makes friends with a blonde guide named Magdalena and a smuggler named
Marcus who help him track down the bus in Berlin. They have just caught up with
Taliq, the leader of the terrorists, at a risqué cabaret underneath the Hotel
Brandenburg. And while all this is
going on, Jill Thomas, playing basketball with the Ljubljana Amazons along with
Chardonnay Knight and Camila Brabrickovich, just beat her old boyfriend, Dwayne
Patterson, in a Berlin exhibition game against the Crenshaw Road Warriorz, . . .
Nicollette and Ahmed walked quickly across Potsdamer Platz, heading for the U-bahn
station. They had spent an hour inside the chocolate store until they felt the
Hotel Brandenburg security guards had given up looking for them and it was safe to
leave. Or at least, they had stayed until Nicollette felt it was safe to leave.
Or, more to the point, until she could no longer take the aroma of all that
chocolate when she was trying to maintain her competition weight.
Ahmed, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure they were safe.
“Ahmed, why do you keep looking around like that?’’ Nicollette asked. “You’re
getting on my nerves.’’
“We must hurry to the U-bahn station. I am positive we are being watched.’’
“Of course, you’re positive we’re being watched. You always positive you’re being
watched. You were convinced that the CIA was monitoring our house for two years by
driving up and down the block in a 1998 Nissan Sentra. And it turned out it was
just some guys from the Beta house trying to sneak a peek into my bedroom.’’
“That is only what they CLAIMED. They could not prove they were not CIA agents
when I confronted them.’’
“Ahmed, they were 20 years old. They barely even had facial hair.’’
“The CIA is very clever, my friend.’’
Nicollette shook her head. She would simply consider Ahmed paranoid except for the
fact that given the current government, she felt it was possible they WERE being
watched at all times. In fact, now that Ahmed mentioned it, she had an odd feeling
that someone was watching her right now.
“So,’’ she said, trying to take her mind off the queer feeling as they crossed the
intersection. “Have you seen Josh since you’ve been here? He’s supposed to be in
Berlin for the World Cup with that tour group of his. Is that hilarious or what? I
mean, can you imagine Josh in charge of anything?’’
There was no answer.
“Ahmed?’’
Just then, Nicollette heard a great roar from above. She looked up just in time to
see a black helicopter hovering above and Special Ops agents dropping to the
street from ropes. Two already had Ahmed in their arms. She screamed but it was no
use. A black hood was placed over her head and a tranquilizing needle jabbed into
her bicep. She was unconscious before the Special Ops agents pulled her up into
the helicopter.
# # #
Magdalena felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to face a giant of a man
wearing an elegant suit and the face of an IRS auditor.
“You are to follow, miss,’’ he said, gesturing with his left hand to a table
across the cabaret.
“Why? I have done nothing.’’
“Yes, brother,’’ Marcus said, stepping in between Magdalena and the big man.
“What’s this all about?’’
“His Most Serene Highness, Crown Prince Sa-eed of Mubai took notice of the miss
from across the cabaret floor and wishes to buy her a drink. If you are a friend
of hers, you may join as well.’’ He paused for emphasis. “Briefly.’’
As the bodyguard escorted Magdalena to the Prince’s table, Marcus and Josh
followed behind. The Prince smiled as Magdalena approached and motioned to the
bodyguard to pull out a chair for her. He did so but left Josh and Marcus
standing.
“Welcome, my young friends,’’ the Prince said. “Allow me to introduce you to my
associates.’’
“We’ve already met,’’ Josh said, staring hard at the familiar faces. “Hello,
Higgins. Hello, Jill. Hello, Dwayne. Nice friends you’ve got here.’’ He gave an
icy look at Taliq. “Bet you didn’t plan on seeing me again.’’
Confused, the Prince turned toward Higgins. “You know this impertinent young
American?’’
“Very well,’’ Higgins replied, standing up quickly to hug Josh. “Or at least, I
know Josh. And any friends of his are friends of mine.’’
“I wish I could say the same,’’ Josh said in as disapproving a voice he could muster.
“Good Lord, Josh,’’ Higgins said, whispering his ear, “why are you acting like
such as ass?’’
“Yeah,’’ Jill said, giving Josh a quick hug. “We haven’t seen you for, like
months, and you act like you’re all pissed off at us for something. What’s your
problem?’’
“My problem?’’ Josh said loud enough to be overheard. “I don’t have a problem. I
just want to know what the hell you’re doing here with him.’’ He cocked his head
toward Taliq.
“Got a problem, mate?’’ Taliq said, standing up. He had a menacing grin on his
face. “Did you have to hire a tour guide to get yourself to Berlin, did we? Not
surprised. If I were you, I’d pay her extra to find your dick when you unzip in
the bathroom.’’
“@#&% you,’’ Josh snapped back and he took a step toward the terrorist.
# # #
“Let’s go over it one more time,’’ the lead agent asked again. “What are you doing
in Berlin?’’
Nicollette squinted but the bright light shining in her eyes prevented her from
making out anything but the dark silhouette of the figure speaking. How many times
had he asked this same question? How long had she been in this dingy interrogation
room? Nicollette always prided herself on being strong in the face of stress.
Unlike so many of her State College teammates, she never cried, no matter how
painful a loss was. But she had never felt stress like this. And she was so
thirsty she felt she could finally beat Danny in a beer bog dual.
“How many times do I have to tell you?’’ she said, her voice strained. “I’m here
to run in a track meet. And when do I get to see someone with the U.S. embassy?’’
“We ARE with the U.S. embassy, Nicollette. And we don’t want to hear that track
bull of yours again. We want the truth. We want to know the real reason you’re
here. And how you and your Muslim friend plan to pull off the attack.’’
“Pull off an attack? Ahmed is my housemate. He’s a soccer nut and he’s here to see
the World Cup. We met outside the Hotel Brandenburg when the French team was
returning to the hotel after practice.’’
“Which is when he attempted to blow up the hotel.’’
Nicollette shook her head. “Are you people insane or just stupid? All he did was
insult Zidane’s mother to get under his skin because he doesn’t want the French
team to win.’’
“That’s very odd. You see, we have your friend, this Ahmed, under custody. And he
has confessed to a much different story. He says you are part of a terrorist cell
planning to launch a devastating attack at the World Cup.’’
The agent let his word sink in.
“So, are you willing to cooperate and tell us the truth now?’’
# # #
Josh didn’t even see the punch. One moment he was taking a step toward Taliq and
the next, he was on the ground with a bloody lip. Not that Taliq fared much
better. No sooner had his fist found Josh’s mouth than both Marcus and Higgins had
pinned him to the ground. Josh could see that Marcus had a wicked knife pressed
just under Taliq’s left eye. Much to Josh’s pleasure, the terrorist was whimpering
for mercy.
“Enough!’’ the Prince shouted with surprising authority for someone comfortably
seated with a champagne flute in hand. “Take some seats my hot-headed friends, and
allow me to explain.’’ His bodyguards stood to emphasize the command.
Higgins helped Josh to a chair while Marcus let Taliq off the floor. Marcus
slipped the knife inside his belt and patted it. “This better be good, my
brother,’’ he said. “Your bodyguards don’t scare me. I saw worse with the Stasi
when I was running Levis and Rolling Stones tapes into East Berlin.’’
The Prince laughed. “I applaud your courage and your loyalty to your friend.
Perhaps I could interest you in a position.’’ Marcus said nothing but sat down
next to Magdalena, who was wiping blood from Josh’s lip.
“Now then,’’ the Prince said to Josh. “You inquired why your friends were sharing
what had been a pleasant evening of drinks with me? I shall explain. I think you
are familiar with the term ‘recruiting trip’ in your country? That is what this
is. I am recruiting these athletes to play for me.’’
He pointed to Dwayne and Jill, as well as two women sitting with them. At least,
Josh assumed the bigger of the two was a woman because of the orange lipstick and
longish purple hair. She looked more like a refrigerator in drag. Josh recognized
the other woman as Chardonnay Knight, the guard for State College’s arch rival,
City University.
“You see, my country of Mubai has the highest per capita income in the world and
is among the most technologically advanced nations. Yet, the western world assumes
that we ride camels and force our women to wear burkas and cut off the hands of
thieves who are caught stealing bread. This impression could not be further from
the truth. But the only way to correct this view, I believe, is to expose the
western world to our culture through the most universal of all human endeavors --
sports.
“Already, Mubai hosts the world’s most lucrative competitions in golf, tennis and
horse racing. By offering dual citizenships to my country, I am gathering an
Olympic team that will bring home gold medals – and publicity – from the 2008
Games in Beijing, and I am attempting to get Mr. Patterson and these women to join
my basketball teams. Further, I am attempting to host the 2014 Olympics. Through
this same strategy, I also fielded a World Cup team, that, alas, was eliminated
before this weekend’s final.’’
“And Athena is outfitting them all,’’ Higgins said. “It’s a very big contract for
us. Very big. That’s why I’m in town. His Most Serene Highness and I were just
leaving the hotel when Jill walked in, so he graciously invited them along. Once
he found out they all played basketball he decided to recruit them for his team.’’
“Ja,’’ said Camilia, the larger woman with Jill and Chardonnay. “Maybe we get to
fly to games this way instead of train. And stay in hotels with
air-conditioning.’’ She sighed at the thought.
“Trust me,’’ the Prince said raising his flute. “We have air-conditioning – it is
what will allow Mubai to host the Winter Olympics.’’
“Yeah, OK,’’ Josh said. “That explains what you’re all doing here. But that
doesn’t explain Taliq.’’
“But it is simple,’’ the Prince said, gesturing with his right hand. “To be taken
seriously as a soccer power, you must have soccer hooligans. Taliq is the head of
Mubai’s hooligans.’’
Josh stared at Taliq, who nodded proudly.
“It’s true, mate. I’m am engineering student from Eusley, a London suburb. The top
English hooligans won’t have me because of my Afghan descent so this was my big
opportunity.’’
“So you’re not a fundamentalist Muslim terrorist?’’
Champagne spurted from Taliq’s nostrils. “What gave you that idea, mate? You spent
two weeks drinking with us in beer gardens. Does that sound like something a
fundamentalist Muslim would do?’’
Josh could feel his face turning red. He hadn’t considered that. “Ummm,’’ he
stammered unconvincingly. “I figured maybe that was all part of an act?’’
“Whatever you say, mate.’’
“But why did you steal my bus?’’
“It’s what hooligans do, isn’t it, then?’’ Taliq said, refilling his champagne
flute. “It was our first criminal activity. But I assure you, it was nothing
personal. We’re just trying to be good hooligans. And no worries. We gained
experience, you got your bus back. Happy endings all around.’’
“But next time,’’ the Prince said, touching Taliq lightly on the sleeve, “perhaps
you could set the bus ablaze in the street before you return it?’’
# # #
“I don’t believe it,’’ Nicollette said to her interrogator. “I lived in the same
house with Ahmed for two years. He would never try to kill anyone. he wouldn’t
even let Danny kill the rats in the house. He made him drive them to the other
side of campus and release them by the football stadium. And you’re trying to tell
me he’s a terrorist? That’s a good one.’’
“You can think what you want but he confessed,’’ the agent said impatiently.
“Let me hear the tape.’’
“We can arrange that.’’
“You better. Because I don’t believe anything you bastards tell me.’’
The agent glared at Nicollette. “As you wish. But I warn you, we’re running out of
time and I’m running out of patience with you.’’
He left Nicollette and exited the interrogation cell, stomping into the adjoining
room where his partner was observing everything through a two-way mirror
“She’s not buying it,’’ the agent said.
“I didn’t think she would. I told you, she’s a tough one. We won’t get anything
out of her by making up phony confession stories and asking politely. We need to
use more persuasive methods.’’
“Maybe,’’ the first agent said, looking through the mirror at Nicollette. “But I’d
hate to see such a pretty thing bruised.’’
“Leave that to me,’’ the second agent said with a grim smile. “I’m going to enjoy
this.’’
The first agent’s cell phone rang suddenly and he glanced down at the number
displayed. “Hold on a second, Mac -- it’s the Chief,’’ he said, flipping open the
phone to answer the call. “Yeah, we’ve got her here. . . . What? . . . . You’re
kidding right? . . . I thought you said – yeah, sure but . . . But . . . But . . .
On whose authority? . . . What? . . . No &%$ way! You got to be &%@$ me! . . .
All right, all right, but about the other guy? . . . Him, too? . . . Damn! . . .
I thought for sure he – OK, OK . . . Hell, if I know – I thought these were the
guys. . . . Yeah, I know that. I know we got less than 24 hours. . . . All
right. . . . Thanks.’’
He closed the cell phone and glanced at his partner. “Sorry, Mac. We got to kick
her loose. Apparently, she’s not involved. Or at least, she’s got some pretty
powerful friends.’’
“What, you mean we got to let her go?’’ his partner said. “Just like that? We’re
supposed to let a prime suspect go during a Code Deep Scarlet?’’
“Yeah, and we have to release this Ahmed character, too. Doesn’t that beat all?
And we better make nice to them on the way out if we want to keep our salary
level. I don’t know who this chick is but the chief says her release order comes
straight from the Oval Office.’’
# # #
Once the Prince explained everything, the table took on a party atmosphere.
Higgins and Marcus hit it off instantly, entertaining each other with stories of
smuggling Athena shoes into the former Soviet Bloc during the Cold War. Josh
forgave Taliq for stealing the bus in exchange for a ticket to the next day’s
World Cup final. Camila took a liking to Josh and asked him to dance repeatedly,
which helped make Magdalena jealous and increase her interest in the American
student. The Prince was unable to convince Dwayne to play for him – he was set on
playing in the NBA – but he was making considerable progress with Jill and
Chardonnay.
“You will not regret it, I assure you,’’ the Prince said, feeling giddy from all
the drink. “Your locker room will have gold shower heads. Not gold-plated – pure
gold. And they will shower you with the finest champagne.’’
“Sounds good,’’ Jill agreed. “As long as the paychecks don’t bounce.’’
“That I guarantee,’’ the Prince said, clapping his hands with delight. “Higgins –
you should have introduced me to your housemates long ago. To have two such
talented athletes living under your roof? No man should be lucky.’’
The reference to Nicollette jolted Higgins. “That reminds me,’’ he said, suddenly.
“Nicollette was supposed to meet me here in Berlin but I haven’t heard from her. I
wonder where she is?’’
Marcus suddenly had a very bad feeling race up his spine. He rose from the table.
“I hate to break up the party, my brothers, but I think we better be moving on.’’
“Why, Marcus?’’ Magdalena asked. “What is worrying you?’’
“It’s nothing, my pet,’’ Marcus said, hugging her quickly. “It’s just that my
sources in the underground assured me that a fundamentalist religious group was
planning some sort of attack this weekend.’’
“Maybe your sources are wrong,’’ Josh said.
“Brother, I don’t know much but one thing I do know is that my sources are never
wrong. They gave me the birds-eye lowdown on the Wall falling 36 hours before it
happened. Saved me from losing my shirt on a truckload of Springsteen bootlegs. So
if they say a fundamentalist religious group is planning an attack, I trust
them.’’
“But if it isn’t Taliq’s hooligans,’’ Magdalena asked, “then who is it?’’
Next: Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch . . .
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