Nick passed out masks with noise suppression. “When I run back by you, it would be best if you two are right on my ass. We need to be out of the building when my ‘bangs go off.”
“I thought we were supposed to clear the building not blow it up,” Gus called out after Nick. “So much for information gathering.”
“Be calm, Payaso,” John said. “Muerto will not harm the information. I think we will have to abandon the building for a time though.”
Gus saw Nick moving from room to room when a big shadow blocked out sight of him. “Down!”
Gus and John blasted the shadow, but kept their fire in a tight pattern. The moment the intruder collapsed on the floor, Nick streaked past him, throwing his last two explosive gifts inside the rooms nearest the entrance. He didn’t slow as he passed Gus and John.
“Run Forest… run!”
They barely cleared the doorstep when the first concussion grenade went off. Nick dived to the ground with his Unholy Trio cohorts on his heels. The string of concussive blasts caused the roof to cave in. Screams echoed out in the aftermath of silence. John pushed into a sitting position first.
“I may have been wrong about the information saving, Payaso. Um… Muerto… what was the purpose of that particular clearing of the house?”
“Very effective, wouldn’t you say? I knew if they had a guard at the door, they had a significant number of other shit-balls inside. This may not have been conducive to information gathering, but on the other hand, we don’t have any bullet holes in us. If you’ll excuse me, guys, I’ll go make some final adjustments. Go ahead and start dragging bodies into the hangar. I’ll be along in about fifteen minutes.”
“Do you think that’s safe? There may have been one of them anticipating…” Gus paused, shook his head, and gestured at John. “Forget it, there’s no way in the world they saw that coming. C’mon Kabong, let’s prepare for the Kabuki Theater show.”
“That’s the spirit, my treasured sidekick.” Nick pulled out his own MP5 with silencer and extra clips. “I hope the neighborhood thought it was a fireworks show. I need a little time to make sure the house won’t cave in on me while I’m fishing for clues as to why our government let in a regiment of murderous jackals. See you guys in the hangar.”
“Don’t get crushed in there, Muerto. If they have any snacks, can you bring us out some chips or something… and maybe some sodas?”
“Sure, Payaso. How about a glass of nice warm milk to go with it?”
“That’s fine,” Gus said as he and John grabbed the first body, “but only if you can put a dash of cinnamon in it.”
Chuckling over Gus’s impromptu quips, Nick fired into each body he found. He packed in for later study all cellphone and pad devices, along with the only two laptops he could find. They weren’t taking the bodies, so Nick no longer cared about identities. No one cared while letting them all in. He found a guy rolling around inside a closet, holding his head, blood frothing from his nose, eyes, ears, and mouth. In one of his hands, he held a ring of keys. Nick aimed to fire, but took a deep annoyed breath instead.
“Great… of all the gin joints in all the world, Mr. Jing-a-ling, Keeper of the Keys, had to walk into mine. Stay there while I finish, Mr. Bojangles. I’ll be back to help you sort the treasure trove those keys unlock.” Nick finished the rest of the house, having gathered everything he could safely get to. He returned to the man in the closet. By then, the man’s stillness appeared to be death. “Ah… gee, Mr. Jing-a-ling, that was so sweet of you to simply die like-”
The man groaned while rolling slightly.
“Oh crap. Okay, let’s see what I have for you in bag number one.” Nick extracted a small clasped kit containing a needle and several vials. “I’ll give you a bit of a pick me up, Jing-a-ling. If it doesn’t work, I’ll have to shoot you in the head and forget about the keys.”
After the shot of adrenaline raced through the man, he cringed into a sitting position against the closet wall. Nick put his MP5 against the man’s forehead, looked him directly in the eyes, and then tapped his forehead while mouthing in obvious pantomime. “Hi… I know you can’t hear well, but if you don’t tell me what those keys open, I am going to shoot your dick off and let you bleed to death.”
Nick jammed the barrel of the MP5 into the man’s groin area. Nick smiled when the man reached for his head. “Go ahead, dick-less, touch me. My trigger pull is an ounce away from you dying without anything to nail a virgin with. You can be the eunuch guarding the harem of virgins for some other guy with his equipment intact. Show me what the keys open.”
The man didn’t know for sure what Nick said, but he reconsidered his hand movement. Nick reached over and rattled the keys clutched in the man’s other hand. “Show me what these open,” Nick said in Arabic. He saw startled recognition of what Nick meant.