After leaving the vehicle, Fernando took over the vocal interaction with the guards. “I am Fernando Carone. I am here to see Saran Al-Kadi as planned. Come now. You all know me. What is this game all about?”
“You were to be stopped until we make certain Mr. McCarty is unarmed. Your host is most anxious to speak with you and McCarty, but his reputation must be taken into consideration.” The lead guard spoke in Arabic.
Nick guided Senta in full veiled robes to the guard’s side. He spoke with the guard in Arabic. “I understand the precautions. What would you have me do?”
Surprised at Nick’s fluid Arabic, the guard gestured to his companion. “Momar will pat you down, Sir. Please do not be offended. We are merely taking precautions necessary in these times.”
“Of course.” Nick allowed the guard named Momar to thoroughly search him for weapons, all the while lightly grasping the sleeve of Senta’s burka. She made as if to move away, but one glance into Nick’s eyes and nearness caused her to hesitate. Momar finished his frisk, shaking his head in the negative. Oh boy… Senta’s ready to bust our dress rehearsal. Fernando, on the other hand was broken and anxious to finish his part.
“Please. I must get back to the Tempest as soon as possible. I have no way of knowing if I was tracked to my new anchorage.”
“Of course,” the lead guard acknowledged. “Follow me. The Bulgar woman’s presence has been ordered also. I see she is dressed appropriately.”
“I think I should wait here until the main meeting is over before seeing my master,” Senta stated.
Nick grabbed her arm painfully enough to evoke a yelp from Senta. “You will do as Saran Al-Kadi orders. I have no patience for your hesitation, nor do I care for your input! Be still and do as you are told!”
Nick’s Arabic guttural toned rebuke silenced Senta into a head bowed pose as the guards stifled mirth at the way Nick handled her. Fernando again took lead, also surprised at Nick’s adlibbed interaction with Senta. Fernando made a slight hand gesture at the guard who greeted them, but was staring at Senta uneasily. “Lead the way. Let us meet with Saran quickly. There is much to discuss.”
Fernando looked toward Jafar as agreed upon beforehand. “Drive the car out of the way and remain here until we complete our meeting, Jafar.”
“Yes, Sir,” Jafar acknowledged. He reentered the BMW and drove it around the circular drive until it no longer blocked the front entrance.
As requested the guard led the three visitors inside. Nick, well versed with the plans and pictures of the interior, recognized they were being led to Al-Kadi’s private quarters. That fact did not bode well in Nick’s imaginings of outcomes. They should have been brought to the ornate meeting room Fernando had described in detail. The guard glanced over his shoulder at Senta. She gave him nearly an imperceptible head shake Nick would have missed if not for his excellent peripheral vision. For his part, Nick checked to see the other guards following them. They were ten feet further to the rear and not paying attention.
Nick waited no longer. He ripped the rear of Senta’s burka upward, drew out the silenced MP5, and fired a round down through Senta’s back. Her screams of agony as she fell to the floor in a writhing heap drew everyone’s last moment’s attention. Nick fired into the lead guard’s head, dove to the floor, and stitched each one of the guards following them before they could bring their weapons to bear. Nick then fired a shot through Senta’s head, stilling all sound from her forever. Fernando had dove to the floor as trained, locking shaking fingers behind his head. Nick drug him to the side of Al-Kadi’s doorway.
“Did I just hear screams and silenced MP5 firings, Muerto,” Lynn asked.
“One of the toys is broken, Lynn. Sorry. No one else enters, Lucas. We are mission engaged,” Nick stated.
“Understood. Stay clear of the front, Dead boy.”
“Will do.”
*