Once Lucas lost it and started braying, we were lost. Then it was the monster mash for the next few minutes with Saran gasping in outrage. Lynn sighed finally and took a deep breath.
“Look at this from our point of view, Saran. Your men were ambushing us, with full intention of doing a Benghazi on our asses. We didn’t rape your guys, burn them alive unarmed, or drag their bodies through our streets. We killed them. Now you… you’re different. We goin’ to teach you, sucker! I have questions for you when we get to the place we call Pain Central. If I were you, I’d start thinking of anything to tell me from your birth on that will make me happy. I don’t have a hard-on for you yet, but you give me a bad time in interrogation, and I’m going to show you the new rules of engagement for handling the Muslim horde, pussy!”
Lynn’s speech, complete with Cruella Deville death stare, shut Saran up for the rest of the trip. No more protests or any other nonsense. He realized the facts in evidence. We didn’t care about his feelings and he was going to die at some point: screaming or sighing. So, here we were with the minions and me handling strap and equipment duty, while Claude looked on. In a half hour, Saran Al-Kadi was in love with the thought of death. He called for it like a lover. He didn’t get it though. Lynn introduced him to our ‘Truth or Consequences’ game with Denny, Clint, and Jafar crosschecking everything using the intelligence gathered from his computers at the compound.
We left Saran for a time to allow his brains to seep back into place. Lynn gestured at him. “I don’t want to go too far. Muerto may need an introductory phone call for that Kader guy. We have to make sure Al-Kadi’s voice returns somewhat to normal. He’ll be calling shortly if he needs the call done. I know you want something answered, Claude. Would you like to ask it after the phone call?”
“Yes. I did not want to interrupt. Do you think it’s promising that he knew nothing of any other major network or cell compound?”
I exchanged glances with Lynn and the minions. We’d been through this before. “I don’t think so. They are smart enough to keep most of their operations compartmentalized for this reason. Importing thousands more of the Muslim horde is insanity for just that reason. Many may be already secretly in cells transported as refugees. They will have only to affiliate with a mosque wherever they are injected into a community. We know for certain the Muslims are stockpiling weapons in the mosques. What was it you wanted to ask?”
“It’s not important on the network scale, but I would like to know what happened to a woman I knew in Paris before the Arab Spring. The good guys nearly killed me. I took a contract on a French diplomat. It didn’t go well. I fled to Paris with a bullet in my leg. The woman I knew there from long ago named Felicia Martel is a cousin on my Mother’s side of the family. We met as children for a time when my Father was killed in Morocco and we needed to live in Paris for a time with relatives. Felicia and I became friends. We stayed in touch over the years. She became a nurse. Felicia helped me until my leg healed enough to make my way to England.”
When Claude paused while glancing over at the moaning Al-Kadi, Lynn became impatient. “Very cool story, but what does it have to do with Saran-wrap?”
Claude smiled. “She lived alone. Men in Al-Kadi’s employ took her during the riots. Felicia was very beautiful and only twenty-eight at the time. I didn’t find out the story until months after the Arab Spring travesty. My Father was a Saudi national, but he was not an Arab dog filled with hatred. He left to live in Morocco where he met my Mother. He was a common laborer but a good man. I would have followed his example. I took many contracts from Muslims to kill other Muslims because they killed my Father for leaving the death cult. This is the first chance I have had to get close to Saran-wrap as you call him. I would like to know what happened to Felicia.”
“No problem. If he knows, he will tell me.”
“I’ll get us some coffee,” I volunteered. “C’mon, Quays, you can help me.”
“We spend so much time in here, we should install a Cappuccino machine,” Quays suggested.
“Good idea, my treasured minion,” Lynn said. “Make it so.”
*
Nick and Cala looked good approaching Kader’s walk-up. Nick wore blue jeans, black windbreaker, black Giants baseball cap, and had his hood up. Cala wore an ankle length, dark blue dress with a light blue headscarf. She had practiced her terrified scowl and dialogue to match with Johnny until even Nick thought he was a bad guy. They knew from satellite imagery Eliah was home with two of his men. Nick prepped Lynn to set up the call with Al-Kadi if necessary. Saran was ready. Nick rang Kader’s condo.
“What is it?” A gruff voice sounded ready to descend the stairs and mug them.