The Great Heist

Chapter Six

The stress was becoming almost unbearable for Amman. 

This was evident on his face as he cannonballed in the wake of the Director with several other agents of the Qatar State Security down the narrow stretch of the hall that led into the dressing rooms. Even though he had been mentally trained and equipped for situations like this, he felt this was too much for anyone to handle, trained or otherwise. 

Not when he had barely seated or rested in the past hour. Nor have time to reflect. Not to talk of smoking to clear his head.

Already, he had lost count of how many times he had been to this part, or anywhere at all in the stadium. 

Yet, here he was again. Walking down the whitewashed walls of this same hall, after being dragged down here by the insistent Director. He had sent two agents to fetch him while he was busy attending to other things that needed urgent attention like; seeing to it that the search and stop continued without a hitch, and also that security measures were still in place now that half of the police and Al Fazaa units have been dispatched to set up checkpoints on every block in the city.

What a bad day, indeed, to be at work, he thought, cursing softly under his breath.

“The footage,” Commander Ali said over his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts. “I assume you have seen them.”

“Yes, a couple of times already,” he answered, quickening his pace to come within hearing distance. 

“And I take it that you already know that our suspects may have posed as stewards to succeed at stealing the trophy.” 

“Definitely, sir. But, I do have trouble identifying their faces due to the smoke.” Amman revealed, wondering what the Director was driving at with this. 

“And it has never crossed your mind to get one of the analysts at HQ down here. Or, has it?” Commander Ali asked, striding stiffly like a robot ahead of him.

Amman was momentarily thrown off by this. Not just because the Director had uttered the words with an edge of frostiness to his tone. But because he hadn’t had time in the last thirty minutes to consider the option himself. 

“No sir. I have had too many things on my plate that the thought of it hasn’t crossed my mind yet.” Amman admitted truthfully, never breaking stride.

“Make that your priority now, Amman. Get an expert analyst from HQ here as soon as possible. We’re losing daylight already as we are, and as you know; every minute counts.” Commander Ali lectured, making a sharp turn at a bend in the hall.

“I’ll see to it that it’s done—”

Commander Ali cut him off just as they arrived before a waxed, wooden door, bearing the plaque ‘Dressing Room A’. “Well, see to it! And also see to it that all the stewards are rounded up for questioning,” he continued at the same time he turned the doorknob. “I want to know how many of them are there, and what each one of them knows.” 

“Very well, sir,” Amman said, stepping into the elaborate dressing room behind the Director.

Despite himself, Amman couldn’t overcome the temptation of taking in the breathtaking view of the dressing room a third time. The wide rectangular dressing room was out of this world. It was more like an executive suite of a five-star hotel in setting and grandeur; with its bright white walls, better accented by the dashing array of lighting fixtures that hung on its white lineated ceilings, like stars. The panels of walled-in lockers that formed a ring of bulwarks around the room. Likewise, the state-of-the-art Jacuzzi at its rear. 

The only blemish, however, on the elaborated façade of the dressing room Amman knew was the giant hole, hollowed out perfectly on its northern wall.

The silence that followed the Director’s discovery of the enormous hole in the wall was one that Amman could swear with his life was saturated to the extent that the sound of a needle dropping could be heard clearly in the room. 

“Allaena! Fuck!” Commander Ali cursed aloud, the shock evident in his voice. “I thought you said it was a hole they punched in the wall. This is no ordinary hole, Amman. It’s a fucking Black Hole.” He remarked, edging slowly toward the hole. 

Without a word, Amman fell in step behind the Director diligently. 

“What could possibly punch a hole this big in a wall? An RDX? Or, perhaps a C-4?” Commander Ali was saying to himself as he arrived at his side. His gaze was fixed on the rubble of bricks and chalky dust residue that had resulted from the wall caving in. 

Seeing as he was uncertain, Amman quickly filled him in on that. “The bomb squad is theorizing that it’s a PE-4.”

“Could be that too,” Commander Ali conceded, continuing with his examination of the hole. “No one heard the blast, I presume?”

“Absolutely no one sir,” Amman replied. “Not even the stadium security stationed around here. I think the blast was timed to overlap with the time the stadium had turned into a madhouse to minimize the risk of the blast being heard.” 

Commander Ali gave a consenting nod and asked, “Which store exactly does it lead to in the mall?”

“Store eighteen, sir,” Amman replied. “I must add that, it’s an empty store.”

Commander Ali reacted to this with the quirk of a brow, loosed a breath, then, with no prior warning or hints, stepped into the big hollow in the wall. 

Amman, anything but shocked by this and ready for such a move all along, followed closely behind him. An instant later, he heard the shuffling of feet come up behind him as the other agents also followed. 

“I wonder for how long those bastards have had all these in motion.” Commander Ali thought aloud as he navigated his way around the jumbled mess on the floor. His voice echoed through the hollow chamber.

Amman, on the other hand, was more than happy to provide an answer to that. “For months, maybe years now.”

In the semi-darkness of the cavernous chamber, Amman could see the Director nod in agreement to that.

They arrived shortly at the store. The Director up front, while Amman and the other agents pressed close behind him. 

“It’s indeed an empty store,” Commander Ali observed at once, trouncing around the vacant space of the store to observe every inch of it. 

“Yes sir,” Amman said, “there are several others like it in the mall. The stadium management couldn’t get people to lease them. Probably, because the stadium would be torn down soon.”

Commander Ali took a cursory look around the store again and said, “I don’t suppose there’s a CCTV here.”

“There actually is, sir,” Amman said, pointing at the CCTV just to his left.

“Oh, I see,” Commander Ali breathed, undoubtedly feigning surprise. “By any luck, did the CCTV camera happen to capture the faces of those men?”

“Not really, sir. It appears they weren’t here at all,” Amman explained, moving swiftly over to the store’s only entrance. “There’s no sign of forced entry. And no one has been in this store since the completion of the mall. At least, I gathered that much from the footage I have seen.”

“That means this wasn’t their escape route, is it?” 

“No sir,” Amman answered, “it was just another decoy.”

At that, the Director seemed to come to a grim realization. His face instantly took on a graver look, while his jaw clenched more tightly. 

“If that’s the case, and I’m to consider the pattern that I have noticed so far, then, that means we’re up against a bigger opponent than we are willing to admit.” Commander Ali put his thoughts into words. “Also, I think it’s safe now to come to an agreement with your earlier theory that, the trophy has left the stadium some twenty or thirty minutes ago, and may be heading out of the city already.” 

As Amman watched the Director touch on this much-dreaded subject at long last, his mind ran through the likely decisions the Director could come up with at any moment. 

Issue an immediate curfew in the city… Have the police turned the city upside down in search of the trophy… Even, delay all outbound flights from the city. The list was unending now that he thought of it. 

“We need to block every point of entry into the city at once, and place the whole city on lockdown right away!” Commander Ali blurted out fast.

Unfortunately, though, none of the things he had thought of came close to the decision the Director came up with. Actually, he wouldn’t have thought of that in a million possibilities.

For an instant after the Director’s declaration, all Amman could do was stand there and watch in the motionless and wordless rigidity of an effigy. 

However bizarre and absurd it may sound or appear, he knew deep down in his heart that this was the right course of action. That is if they were ever going to stand a chance of catching the thieves and retrieving the trophy.

“Right away?” Amman asked once he snapped out of the shock. The disbelief was still clear in his voice.

“Right away, Amman!” Commander Ali stressed. “See to it that security is heightened at the metros, the thoroughfares, and even at the airports in Doha. And have the cops and Al Fazaa commence stop and search in each of these places. We have to take our chances and trap them now that we can, before they slip through our grasp, for good.”

Amman quickly changed tact, “I’ll make sure of it, sir.”

“Good,” Commander Ali said with a nod and pirouetted on his heels. “Do that and let’s put an end to this menace already!” 

“The Press, sir,” Amman said after him, “we’re going to need to offer them some explanations.”

Commander Ali halted in his tracks right away. His molten gaze whipped around to meet Amman’s. “Get this straight, Amman: We owe the damn Press no fucking explanations. So, nobody, and I mean nobody, not even the cops speak with them until I say otherwise.”

Held by the intensity of those blazing overbearing eyes, all Amman could manage was a nod. 

Commander Ali moved even closer, then went on severely. “The only people we owe an explanation to are the Emir, the Prime Minister, and the Minister of Interior. And I will be corresponding with the Minister pretty soon. So give me exactly the results that I want.” He finished, digging his index finger into Amman’s sternum for emphasis.

Loss for words, Amman watched the Director walk snappishly out of the store. The clicks of his shoed feet slowly diminished as he put some distance between himself and the store. 

“What are you waiting for? C’mon, get going already!” Amman snapped at the other agents. 

Seething still, he watched them all scurry out of the store and followed behind them shortly afterward.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have raised his voice or snapped at any one of them like that. But his day has virtually gotten even worse. So, hell if he cares.