Free Flight into Darkness (Flight Trilogy, Book 2) by Mike Coe Page B

Chicago, and then continuing to San Francisco. Scheduled arrival time in San Francisco was 4:35 p.m. Samael had booked two rooms at the Hotel Sausalito—a small, out-of-the-way, boutique hotel only minutes from San Francisco on the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge in Marin County. It was the perfect location to review the details of the mission with Usman.
    Samael sat and took one last sip of his coffee leaving only the sludgy grounds in the bottom of his cup. His resolve and commitment was deeper now than ever. He was ready to serve out his destiny on Earth and continue into the afterlife.
    He waved a hand at a young waiter. The young man quickly approached the table dressed in the 19th century period costume.
    “Yes sir.” The boy recoiled slightly when light reflected against the albino’s white face.
    “Son, would you call me a taxi?” Samael didn’t want to stand in the light of the café while waiting for the taxi. He preferred to sit under the cover of darkness until the taxi arrived.
    “Yes sir.”
    He paid for the coffee and slipped the boy an extra five million lira note (equal to slightly more than three U.S. dollars)—enough for one person to buy lunch or dinner in a second-class restaurant. “Notify me when it arrives?”
    “Yes sir. It should only be a few minutes.”
    “Fine.”
    Samael returned to his reflections, basking in the thought of returning to Istanbul in a matter of days where he would celebrate and live out the rest of his earthly life in the white body of the albino.
    Sooner than expected, the young waiter returned to his table. “Sir, your taxi has arrived.”
    The young man stepped back. Samael had grown accustomed to being treated like a contagious leper. The boy took another step back when Samael rose from the table; his large frame towered over the boy.
    Quickly and discreetly, Samael made his way through the small café. The crowd in the café had grown in numbers with the onset of nightfall; the beverage of choice changing from Turkish coffee to raki—the Turkish national alcoholic drink. While making his escape, only a few patrons had time to notice him. The ones that did, winced after catching a glimpse of his ghostly appearance.
    Safely seated in the taxi, he spoke only two words to the driver, “Hotel Daphnis.” He made a point to sit in the right rear seat, hoping to avoid the anticipated stares from the driver in his rearview mirror.
    Although the roads were congested, giving proof to Istanbul’s thriving nightlife, he arrived back at the hotel along the banks of the Golden Horn in less than thirty minutes. He passed the driver enough money to cover the fare, plus a healthy tip, and quickly exited the taxi, into the empty lobby, and up the stairs to his room.
    Samael readied for bed, said his prayers, turned out the lights, and slipped his tall frame into the small, single bed. Tomorrow he and Usman would depart for California. He planned to rise early enough to ensure plenty of time to visit three very important locations.
    First, he would stop at Fatih Mosque, paying his condolences at the tomb of Sultan Mehmet the Conqueror.
    Next, he would stop at the Suleymanine Mosque where the tombs of Suleyman the Magnificent and his wife Roxalena are located.
    Finally, he would visit the Golden Horn River where he would fill four small jars with the water from the glorious river, the symbolic life blood of his beloved mother—Keroessa.
    The 2,600-year journey of his soul had been perfectly orchestrated and was close to an end. Before falling asleep, he thought of Usman. His technical knowledge and computer skills would ensure the success of the mission. Sadly though, Samael would have to kill the little man once his services were no longer needed. But on the positive side, death would release Usman’s soul from the pitiful, little body that imprisoned him.

CHAPTER 10
    Monday , May 26th
    The weak presence of dawn’s first light strained to wash the black from the sky.