Knockdown by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pinnacle Books
Published: 2020-06-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 41

Sherman and Saddiq discussed the plan on through dinner, which, as Sherman had promised, was halal, and Saddiq was able to enjoy it without reservation.

Sherman knew that some Muslims, even among the die-hard terrorist groups, were not as stringent about following Islam’s dietary laws, but his research had told him that Saddiq was particularly fanatical about his faith’s tenets, so there was no point in offending him.

Hence the burqas on his female servants, to hide their shapely forms from Saddiq’s eyes. Sherman preferred that all the women around him be attractive and as young as legally feasible—and in some cases, younger—but he had no objection to denying himself that pleasure for a while, if it was in a good cause.

His cause was the best of all, and Saddiq was a useful tool in achieving his ends.

As the terrorist took his leave that evening, to be driven back to the expensive hotel in Portland where he was staying, Sherman smiled, lifted a hand in farewell, and wondered if Saddiq was planning to have him killed at some point in their future partnership.

Sherman would have been shocked if Saddiq didn’t intend such a double cross. Sherman certainly planned to have Saddiq put down like the rabid animal he was—as soon as he had outlived his usefulness.

He turned away and closed the door, starting back toward the glass-walled room that was his favorite sanctum in this hodgepodge of a house.

Terry Morse emerged from a door along the way and asked, “Shall I bring you a drink, Mr. Sherman?”

“Yes, please,” Sherman replied.

Terry had discarded the burqa, revealing the blue bikini she wore underneath it. It wasn’t an extremely small bikini, but she was so abundantly blessed that it almost appeared so. Her long red hair was loose now, spilling down her back. It had been a real shame to cover up such sensuous beauty, and Sherman was glad that it was back on full display.

“And bring the others to me as soon as they arrive,” he added.

“Of course, sir.”

Sherman watched her walk away, admiring the view, and then went on into the study. He took a cigar from an antique humidor on the desk, lit it with an engraved, gold-plated lighter, and strolled over to peer out into the night.

With the light behind him like that, he would have made a good target for any sniper on the opposite cliff, had the glass not been thick and bulletproof. Not only that, it also possessed a special refractive quality that made him appear from outside to be five feet to the side of where he actually was. It was a precaution, one of many he had taken to ensure that he was safe here.

No man could have as much money as he did without also possessing a proportional number of enemies.

Terry returned with a Scotch, handed it to Sherman, and said, “The helicopter will be here in five minutes, sir.”

“Excellent.” Sherman sipped the Scotch. “The news and the drink.”

He stayed where he was, staring out at the darkness and musing over his plans.

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