Moonlight Warriors: A Tale of Two Hit Men by Joseph Rogers Page B

made a couple of mistakes recently, but overall I have done well and have served faithfully.”  Her eyes filled with tears.  “I have sacrificed much for our cause.  My husband has taken our son and disappeared.  I might never see my son again!”
    Saud’s expression softened.  “Perhaps I am taking out my frustrations on you.  I am under a lot of pressure.  The people who are pursuing me are not fools.  I need to throw them off my trail.”
    Elaine had an idea.  “Why don’t we give the FBI a scapegoat?  Perhaps then they will think they have got their man.”
    “Do you have someone in mind?”
    “Yes.  There is an Iranian here who would be the perfect scapegoat.  He was once one of us, but he has become Americanized and no longer serves our cause.”
    Saud grinned at her.  “You return to my good favor, sister.”

Chapter 12
    Quid est veritas?
     
    Jenny and Charlie stopped by Ted Drewes Frozen Custard on Chippewa Street, then took their sundaes over to Francis Park, just a few blocks away.  They parked, got out of the car, and sat on a park bench.
    “When I was a teenager, I used to come over here to Francis Park sometimes to play tennis with a friend who went to Bishop DuBourg High School,” Jenny said. “Of course, since I’ve always lived so close to Carondelet Park, that’s usually been the park where I’ve done my bike riding and jogging.”
    “Almost every day over a thousand persons walk or jog around Francis Park,” Charlie said as he scooped out another spoonful of frozen custard.  “The park is a bit more than a mile around.”
    “Yes. The perfect distance for an evening walk.”
    “There’s a church across the street from each of the four corners of the park.”  Charlie   pointed down Nottingham Avenue at St. Gabriel the Archangel Church. “Sometimes this area is called ‘Archangel Row.’  Besides St. Gabriel’s, you also have St. Raphael the Archangel parish here in St. Louis Hills and St. Michael the Archangel parish two miles away in Shrewsbury.”
    “I think that we might need some angelic help to catch this assassin,” Jenny said.  “He always seems to be one step ahead of us.”
    “You’ve noticed that, too.  Do you have any ideas about how he is getting his information?”
    “Maybe he’s psychic,” Jenny suggested jokingly.
    Charlie laughed.  “I’ll believe that he is a psycho, but not a psychic.  If he could read minds, he would have completed his mission by now and made his escape.”
    “I checked both of our cars for any electronic tracking device, but both cars were clean.”
    “I haven’t washed my car in many weeks, Jenny.  I certainly wouldn’t say that it’s clean.”
    “You know what I mean!”
    “And we didn’t discuss on the telephone where we sent Fatima Cedars, so it wouldn’t matter if he was bugging the phone lines.”
    “See.  He must be psychic.”
    “I’m afraid that he’s getting inside information from someone either in our police department or in the FBI.  Or the assassin could be a cop or FBI agent.”
    “You’ve discovered my secret identity as Jihad Jenny.”
    “I knew that you would confess sooner or later.  However, Jihad Jenny, I don’t think that you’re the person that I’m looking for this week.”
    “Charlie, besides us, our supervisor is the only other person in the department who knew where Fatima was.  I hardly think that Vincent Perkins is in league with an assassin.”
    “That would be hard to imagine.  However, could he have written the information down somewhe re and his note was found by the assassin or someone helping him.”
    “Even that’s pretty unlikely.  I think that the weak link in the chain is with our FBI helpers.”
    “Really?” Jenny’s eyebrows raised in surprise.  “They both seem very smart.”
    “I don’t doubt that they are smart.  However, …”
    Charlie was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone.  For his ringtone, he had a verse from an old