“Yes, Muerto, if being the master means repeating the phrases ‘please may I go out, honey’, and ‘please don’t shout at me dear’ over and over, then indeed, Payaso is master.”
“Oh… you so funny,” Gus said, not taking his eyes off the road, but tightening his fists on the wheel. “Your time is coming. Soon you will know what must be done to have a happy family life. It is always a matter of compromise and patience.”
“Yes, and apparently a lot of whining and pleading,” John replied.
“Tina is a complex woman. Have you had any interaction with Clyde Bacall since his last helping hand, Muerto?”
“He seems okay. Paul wouldn’t have sent him if he had any doubts. Clyde knows all the scores which works in our favor on this mission. He will do whatever we need done.”
“Wait a minute,” Gus said. “You sound a lot more positive about Clyde than you should after our recent interactions. Hey John, want to bet on whether or not Muerto bribed Bacall?”
“Muerto knows the value of a good man. Don’t poison the well with your Payaso deflection tricks from finally being outed as pussy-whipped.”
“For the record, Kabong, I was not deflecting. I was moving on to a mission based subject. What about it, Muerto. You bribed Clyde, didn’t you?”
“You already know I’ve shared the wealth before. We made big money in confiscations. There wasn’t any reason not to share the wealth. The wealthy crooks keep showing up at our doorstep. We keep relieving them of their burdens of ill-gotten gains. We needed a field liaison with our beloved CIA Director Paul Gilbrech. Paul and I didn’t want to shoot applicants and Clyde’s been the best so far. If he continuously witnessed my giving bad guys a lot of loot on occasion, we’d lose him. I had to make sure he received something more valuable in compensation than our bad guys.”
“How much did you give him?”
“A minor stipend, Payaso.”
“How much?”
“A hundred thousand.”
Both Gus and John enjoyed Nick’s answer. “That should make him your new secret BFF. I hope you coached him on what not to do with a windfall like that.”
“I gave it to him in his own offshore account no IRS snoop will ever reach. We need him, guys. Paul can’t stay out of the limelight if he’s seen making pilgrimages to strange places where the Unholy Trio happen to be. We have to take care of a trusted link and keep him happy to be on our side. Besides, the extra money might curb his cynical side.”
“In other words, the cynical side of his sarcastic remarks that might get him shot in the head?”
“Well sure, Payaso, you could describe it in such a bleak manner.”
Chapter Five
The Cincinnati Sanction
Clyde Bacall brought a satellite phone to Nick. “It’s the Director, Nick.”
“Thanks. Hi Paul. How’s the surveillance going?”
“All too well. Both helicopters are in place. We have video evidence of them loading armaments not used in anything but open warfare. They have a chain gun and .50 caliber machine gun on board.” Paul paused, waiting for Nick’s sarcastic response. Not getting it, he went on to answer the unspoken question. “Yes, I sent in my recommendations for a Reaper strike backed up by a couple A-10 Warthogs if need be. They’ve decided to gamble on the Unholy Trio. May I suggest something to piss them the hell off?”
Nick smiled. “You would like the Unholy Trio to film a video of this, making light of the fact the famous cartoon trio of YouTube fame becomes Ohio’s last resort against unknown destruction from terrorists. Terrorists who should never have been here in the first place, and certainly should have been stopped by the government rather than cartoons.”
“It will probably get me run out of DC on a rail, but that is exactly what I would like you to do. I’m sick of keeping the American people in the dark while these Islamist bastards attempt strike after strike while the government allows easy access.”
“I can make adjustments, Paul,” Nick offered. “There seems to be a fine line developing between cultural allowances and outright treason. I agree with you. If the law enforcement agencies keep thwarting attacks in the shadows, the traitorous politicians who keep kissing Middle Eastern ass will continue putting the rest of us in danger. One slip in this game and we could be in a no options, all-out war in our streets.”
“That’s how I figure it too, brother. It’s strange we psychos are the only ones seeing this picture. Anyway… when you get into position, let me know what you want and where. If you can pull this caper off on the scale my superiors want, make any statement you want. If it gets even a little out of hand, call me. I’ll order the strikes directly.”
“Understood. Scorch the earth?”
“Absolutely. We know the players. We want the players to clearly understand that fact, including the Pakistanis in this dangerous Isis game they’re playing.”
“I’ll call you from the ground, Paul.”
“I look forward to it, Muerto.”