“Yeah… about that,” Lynn said, walking in with Clint. “We don’t take kindly to terrorist woman beaters trying to kill one of our own. Therefore you, my little guppy, will be showing your companions down in holding what will be happening to them if they don’t remember some very interesting information.”
Mohammed Nejem began crying as Lynn inserted her needles. I didn’t blame him. I flicked the switch for video feed to our holding cell screen. We didn’t know how much his three companions knew, but the technique worked so well, it was worth a try. Besides, as Lynn stated, we aren’t much of a ‘forgive and forget’ bunch. I didn’t like the attempted curare dart murder attempt.
Lynn stroked Nejem’s face. “Ah… isn’t that cute. Daddy cries real tears. You tried to kill my brother and my adopted daughter. I’ll teach you what pain really means. You can set the example for your buddies down in holding.”
Dr. Deville, doctor of podiatry torture supreme, spent the next half hour with Mohammed Nejem during his last moments on earth before a blood vessel popped in his head. After we removed Nejem from his restraints, the minions and I stripped him for his final cruise. Once we set aside the body-bag, we journeyed down to holding where all our guests were crying. It reminded me of the movie where the Kurds captured these Isis supposedly bad dudes. The only thing they did with no one touching them was cry for their mommies. That’s how our guests were. They began screaming when Dr. Deville arrived. She shushed them with a gesture.
“I see you enjoyed Daddy Nejem’s adventure movie. I hope you boys thought of something really sweet Daddy didn’t tell us. Otherwise, I’m going to have to inspect some feet.”
“Yes! We know something he didn’t know,” one of them with a full black beard shouted, wiping away the tears. “He…he did not know one of the people funding Al-Kadi. We learned of him from the men who had a safe-house in Ensenada before we came into the States from a container ship. His name is Fernando Carone.”
“Where can we find him?”
Blackbeard broke into sobs. “We…we don’t know. He lives on a superyacht along the coast, dealing drugs, and girls. May Allah strike me dead if I lie!”
His buddies wailed in sync with him as if we cared.
“Oh shut up!” They quieted immediately upon hearing Lynn’s order.
“Usually, I’d go for the gold on these goons,” Lynn said. “I remember Nick extracting a name before the ‘Starlight’ gig.”
“Good memory,” I replied. “Carone was the name Nick mentioned. He has a ‘Mother Ship’ in the area somewhere by San Luis Obispo.”
Denny, who had been quiet all morning, spoke in a soft voice of urgency. “Let me take these guys. We can learn a lot about this Ensenada safe-house.”
“Uh… no,” I said. “We’ll take each one to interrogation. They will explain every stone and bush surrounding the Ensenada safe-house and how they reached there, right boys?”
A chorus of affirmative sobs wailed until Lynn shut them up once again. “Well, Den… there you have it.”
“Fine.” Denny sighed and started toward the steps. “Bring them along. Let’s keep them apart so we can make sure they deliver the goods for us to compare.”
Lynn clapped her hands together. “Line up boys. My minions will escort you all to our holding room where our figurehead leader, Captain Blood, may question each of you alone for later story comparison.”
“I heard that,” Captain Blood called from the stairwell.
*
We admittedly took our partying out to sea with us. Jafar practiced his captaining skills with Samira as his copilot. Lucas joined Casey, Tommy, Dev, Jess, and the minions after our bad guy fish feed. Tommy let me off with a forty minute banana suit poking. Clint stayed home for the day with his son doing research, so Casey stood in as my shark watch. I was damn good in the water considering my fight the night before. I could tell Tommy was pleased, partly because of my performance, and partly because of the new insulated gloves he used in the poking drill. They eliminated the sting when I whipped around perfectly for a pole strike with knife-hand stroke. Lynn, on board with us alone, joked and fished with Dev and Jess for the first time.
My satellite secured line phone beeped while we were sipping and fishing. It was Nick. “Hey, brother… I was going to call you after we fed the fishes to compare notes on a guy.”
Nick chuckled. “Achmed already put your near death experience on the line to me. Damn, John, I hope you’re sipping a few in celebration of cheating death.”
“I sure am. It was a close one. Nightshot Casey put one right between the dart-man’s eyes in the dark.”
“Damn it!” Lucas grabbed the satellite phone. I had us on speaker. “Don’t say anything more, Dead Boy. Casey’s head’s so swelled today, he can’t even wear a ball-cap.”
“Give me the phone, Ahab,” I ordered with a sigh. Casey and everyone else were enjoying the exchange. “Nick and I have business.”
“Fine! One more Nightshot line and I smash the phone over your thick skull!”
“Understood,” I replied. “You still there, Nick?”
“I…I’m here. What guy did you want to compare notes on?”