“When’s Sam and Janie due to deliver my new toys? You said they have as much to do with success as Carone and Bulgar. We need to move on the compound, Cheese. It’s one thing to scare the crap out of those two murderous scum, but it’s completely different letting them loose in the wild with Muerto’s life in the balance.”
“These four could be the key. Two of them are assassins sent from New York by that Kader family Nick’s people have been having trouble with. The other two are unknowns. We’ll separate the wife first. Her name’s Florence Nazari. Sam told me she was ready to break nearly the moment the Pacific Grove cops handed her over to actual FBI agents. Nick told me he needs to know whether those two assassins were sent to kill him by the Kader guy in New York or if Al-Kadi was in on it too, in which case we’ll need a new plan.”
“I get it. You figure the woman knows a hell of a lot and I can extract a plethora of facts to trip our male contestants.”
“That’s the plan, Lynn. Once Muerto gets in for an audience with Al-Kadi, he can recon guard numbers, look-outs, and possibly trick the number of men billeted at the compound in the initial conversation. Nick’s roving encounter with Al-Kadi may make the difference between our confiscating the compound or blowing the hell out of it.
“Not to mention when he’s through with the initial introductions, I’m thinking Muerto will reduce the number of combatants significantly,” Lynn replied. “We’ll be able to get a handle on how receptive Al-Kadi is to an audience with Nick during the phone call we’ve been rehearsing with Carone.”
Clint joined us with Clint Jr. in his arms. “Sam called. He and Janie have our new arrivals twenty minutes away. Achmed and I found out a lot more on the Nazari guy and his two pals from Al-Kadi’s compound. C’mon out and have a coffee while I show you the folders I printed out on them, Cheese. I made you a tea, babe.”
Lynn gathered the baby into her arms as she and I followed Clint to their meeting area. “How’s my little man doing without his Mama?”
“Quiet, hungry, and the usual. He seemed to be very entertained watching my computer screen. The Parakeet is with Achmed. She sat between us with Mia in her arms. The babies laughed and giggled at each other the whole time. We put them in the playpen together. They handed each other toys, crawled over each other, and sat together with the finger foods we gave them to munch on.”
“That’s cute.” Lynn held Clint Jr. so she could examine him closely. “Is your old man fixing you up with an arranged marriage, kid? Mia’s pretty cute, huh?”
The baby nodded and giggled which surprised me, but not his parents. “He’s already understanding some words?”
“Sure,” Clint answered. “Watch this.”
Clint peered at his son with a stern frown. “Naptime for junior.”
“No!” Clint Jr. shook his head in the negative while cringing away from his Dad. “No!”
We were still enjoying that demonstration when we reached the meeting room. Samira’s melodious but non-stop help, while pointing and commenting at Jafar’s screen, paused as we approached. Jafar sighed in relief only to get a smack in the back of the head.
“I am only trying to help,” Samira said plaintively as she sat down with arms crossed over chest.
“You have been annoyingly chirping at us for the last hour, Parakeet,” Clint said. “Give your husband a break.”
Samira gasped as Jafar enjoyed Clint’s observation and request as much as the rest of us. She jabbed a finger in my direction which I expected. “This is all your fault I am now the Parakeet, Cheeseburger!”
“No… it’s because sometimes you chirp without taking a breath for a solid hour,” Clint refuted her charge. “Cheese labeled you correctly. Sometimes you have to be reminded that silence is golden.”
“Lynn! Is this true?”
“Listen, kid… you know my abhorrence for cleaning anything. That fact catches up to me at odd times with a pointed reminder. I love you but you are a chirpy little bird at times. Calm down. You’re the Parakeet. Big deal. Embrace it. Jafar is ‘Achmed the Dead Terrorist’. Clint’s been telling us how well Clint Jr. and Mia get along.” Lynn placed Clint Jr. in the playpen where Mia’s face brightened as she crawled quickly to her buddy. Lynn watched the two babies giggling and chasing each other around the playpen for a moment with a big smile. “I think it’s time to talk dowry, Achmed.”
Jafar nodded, taking a break from his screen to join Lynn next to the crib. “They do get along wonderfully well. Is that not so, Parakeet?”
Samira took Jafar’s hand with a sigh. “Yes… they get along very well. I will try to be less chirpy. Will I lose the Parakeet nickname after a time?”