“What the hell are you up to now? I heard references to New York and the Al-Kadi trip you’ve been planning all along with the Monster Squad. Secondly, what was the talk about the family being transported north for safety?”
Nick hugged her. “Concentrate on your editing. I already told you a Kader from New York ordered those two hired killers at the school. He may be the Kader kingpin we’ve been searching for. His name is Eliah Kader. Clint had good news on the Al-Kadi visit. Lynn has convinced Carone and Bulgar to assist me at the Pilot Hill compound.”
Jean, who had been eavesdropping as usual became instantly animated. “Lynn is the baddest!”
“Lynn is the best interrogator I’ve ever encountered,” Nick agreed.
“Are you certain you’ll be able to trust what she’s done once those two are beyond her reach,” Rachel asked. “You’d be hung out to dry if they come to their senses at the door of the compound.”
Nick shrugged. “Did you just insult me?”
Both kids and Rachel chuckled at Nick’s mock outrage.
“Listen,” Nick urged. “I will have the deadliest backup in the world ready to move if things go wrong. Besides… although I love the looks of this Pilot Hill compound confiscation, I would have no qualms about damaging it if things go wrong. I have a plan.”
“A plan to get out of a compound surrounded by murderers?”
“Grenade.”
“That’s not funny,” Rachel retorted.
“Do you see me laughing? The best diversions are messy. Besides, if I get an audience with this Al-Kadi, he’s not going to allow me to get near him armed to the teeth. I’ll need to make sure I have some diversion tools planted on one of my unknowing companions. We will cover everything from start to finish.”
“I’d rather you Monsters simply fly in on your ‘Apocalypse Now’ ships and salt the earth. You buggers have more money than God. Buy some other damn place near Pilot Hill.”
Nick smiled at Rachel. She blurted out the common sense, black and white facts without taking into consideration the Monsters. “First counter argument deals with all the electronic data and pipeline to other Islamist mutants across the country our federal agencies could act against legally with evidence. Think of us finding threads into huge Muslim enclaves like Dearbornistan.”
Jean giggled. “You mean Dearborn, Michigan?”
“We’re in a weird place as citizens, Viper,” Nick replied. “The common citizen is labeled a xenophobic racist when we question our government’s idiotic non-enforcement of immigration laws. The plot to induce two hundred thousand Muslim refugees into our nation is beyond belief, yet it is dropped on us with no recourse. The hard cold fact is Muslims do not assimilate into any nation they infest. They whine and cry to be allowed to escape their third world hell-hole, but insist on bringing it with them when they are granted sanctuary. They have infected Denmark and Norway to the point their protesters demand to annex parts of those sovereign nations as their own Muslim enclaves.”
Jean’s face twisted into an angry mask. “That’s not right.”
“You’ve already experienced life not right, kid. We learn and move on. We’ll stop this threat, one way or another, and move on to the next. At some point in the future, we’ll stop playing catch up and teach the troglodytes the meaning of war. Until then, allow us Monsters to tread water the best we can. We’ll stay safe to the best of our ability.”
“I remember in a time when Muerto was a cold blooded assassin his exact words describing an assassin in a novel were: ‘one of the traits a world class assassin would have is the skill to foresee every possible scenario on a job. It would be idiotic to have him stumbling from one situation to another as if he were Peter Sellers in a ‘Pink Panther’ movie’.”
“Okay… that’s it, no more slinging my words in my face. I’m slowly regaining the edge to Muerto: cold blooded assassin. It isn’t easy. I’ve been corrupted by civilian family members who didn’t mind me risking my life for them, but I have to leave America at risk. How selfie of you, Rachel.”
Rachel stood with hands on hips. “Don’t blame your shortcomings on me, Muerto. You’re the one who developed delusions of grandeur and decided you’re bulletproof. Jean and I are simply left after your death to pick up the pieces.”
Jean followed her Mom’s stance in form and attitude. “Yeah, Dad!”
Nick chuckled. He leaned back in his seat and sipped the Bushmill’s Irish next to him. “Good one. Do you two rehearse this stuff when I’m not around? I have a job to do you two are very familiar with. Hell, Sonny knows me as well now. I’m an abomination. I hold onto this family life with my fingernails. If not for Gus talking me out of retirement I’d probably be out at night full time with a mask and cape.”
“You have a mask and cape, Sicko,” Rachel reminded him, aware of Nick’s penchant for steering a conversation by pretending moral and self-deprecating sensitivity. “I liked the ‘I’m an abomination’ touch – very dramatic.”