Jamal threw up his hands in disgust. “We were not in a land of unbelievers, you idiot! We were sent there to punish the blasphemous by their family. Here… all could be at risk if a single witness is allowed to live. If need be, I will kill the child. She would only become a whore when older in any case. Do not fail me in this endeavor! Saif must be avenged. With Uncle Naseer dead, there is no one else to do what must be done.”
Aban nodded. “It will be as you say. I know you wish to slit their throats, but what if he has guns. He was in the Delta Force unit.”
Jamal smiled. “Yes… we will expose one of these so called special ops murderers for what they really are. If the security system is off, we will glide in, and kill them all in their sleep. No one will know what to think. Saif wounded this Rambo goon at the school. He will be passed out on pain meds. It will only take minutes to complete our strike.”
“I pray to Allah it is so,” Aban replied, exiting the van with Jamal.
The two men trudged up the hill to Nick’s house, the sidewalk only a few feet ahead made invisible by the clinging fog. Aban scanned the area in all directions as if expecting to be attacked out of the wispy cloud enveloping them. Jamal’s hand fingered his box cutter, imagining what it would feel like to execute the murderous infidel, McCarty. He had loved Uncle Naseer. Naseer had been his hero, and Saif a beloved brother in arms. Always did they act upon family transgressions in forthright actions completely within Sharia Law, and at the behest of family members dishonored by blasphemers within their own family unit.
“I wish we could see more clearly,” Aban muttered.
“This fog is sent by Allah, fool! It hides our every movement. Pull down your mask now. No one will know of our approach or exit from the house of McCarty. There it is! Come, we have only to go through the white gate to reach his porch. Let us hurry!”
Aban, sweat already exiting the pores of his body, pulled the ski mask over his face, maneuvering it so as to line the holes with his eyes. He could barely see the porch, though he and Jamal were through the gate in an instant. The porch, deserted with only a few items of furniture seemed to Aban as a warning rather than a fog shrouded blessing. He inched in close to Jamal, who smirked confidently while holding his gadget for Aban to see. The light was green.
The ecstatic Jamal waved the gadget in front of Aban in almost taunting form. “I told you, Aban. These people think their money will buy anything, including turning on the systems they purchase, but never use. I am familiar with this lock. We will be inside minutes from now.”
Aban cringed even at the hushed tones Jamal communicated to him with. He felt a black presence. His hair stood on end at the nape of his neck in reaction to unseen darkness. Aban searched for hidden enemies, looking for danger, but there were only the wispy tendrils of fog within his purview. The silence, broken only by the slight rasping noises of Jamal’s burglar tools, enhanced the dread coursing through him. This action, far different than the almost heralded killings abroad, provoked horror rather than determination.
“We are in,” Jamal declared in a whisper, turning the doorknob with a smile of achievement. “Let us give our brother, Saif, peace now. We will call the reporter later.”
Jamal opened the door. The two stepped inside with measured tread. The Taser needles hit Jamal, propelling him to the floor, appearing as a marionette with an insane puppet master. Aban turned to run, but the discharge of Nick’s twenty-five million volt baton dropped him to the floor instantly, where the holder of the baton applied the arcing charge until Aban passed out.
Chapter Six
More Proactive
“Damn, Nick!” Gus walked through the door, his silenced 9mm automatic at his side. “You surely called this shit once again. I wanted to say hi… and bye. I know you don’t want me on hand for the police discovery. If you do need me, just call.”
“I think me and the boys will be fine.” Nick turned up the juice on Jamal, watching with appreciation as the man’s body jumped grotesquely. “I found Jamal Kader after some rather tedious moments on the computer. He’s my bitch. Jamal here is a real Uncle Naseer acolyte. He’s a believer no one wants being at the mercy of. When they let him out of the justice system, I am going to end him for all time.”
“Unless you want a dead detainee, Terminator, you better shut down the juice.”
Nick stopped fingering the Taser trigger. He shrugged at his old friend. “I see what these two meant to do in my mind. Sometimes shutting off my imagination can get tricky. Thanks.”
“No problem, brother. Did you hear whether we’re walking Danger to school tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I checked their website. The school is closed tomorrow. They let the Terrorists win, Gus.”
Gus laughed for more than a few seconds at the old adage. “You’re right, brother. Little did they know that you were on the case.”