The Blistering: Chapter XIX

Delivered and Sealed 

 

To read this serial novel from the beginning, go here.

 
"Why is that guy wearing a parka?" the tallest of the three smugglers asked.

Tom and Ali turned and looked at Cardinal. Indeed, he was wearing a long, oversized coat.

"What's the problem, gentleman?" Cardinal asked innocently.

"The problem is," one of the smugglers said, "that we are here to make a sensitive transaction, and somebody shows up in a coat big enough to conceal an anti-aircraft gun."

"May I first compliment you on the quality of your English," Cardinal said, "but as for your question -- it is early in the morning, and I just caught a chill from the desert air."

"A chill? You are in the desert and it is thirty degrees outside."

"That's what I'm talking about, thirty degrees," Cardinal replied, smiling. "I checked the papers this morning. High of 36 degrees. So I brought my coat."

"In Syria we use the metric system, you imbecile," the tall smuggler said. "Thirty degrees Celsius."

Tom spoke up. "John, thirty degrees Celsius is well into the eighties. You might want to lose the coat. You're making our trading partners nervous."

Cardinal backed up a few steps. He couldn't lose the coat. He had two MAC-10 machine guns and about 15 grenades strapped to his chest.

There was a moment of silence, then the smuggler said, "Are you going to remove your coat, or is there going to be trouble?" All three of the smugglers moved their hands to their belts, where automatic pistols hung.

Uttering an expletive, Cardinal threw off his coat, slinging the pair of MAC-10s in front of him. He had used an old trick -- the arms of his coat were stuffed with newspaper (the same newspaper that forecast 40 degree highs, no doubt) and had stuffed the cuffs into his pockets. His real arms were inside the coat, fingering the triggers of his machine guns all the while. Tom and Ali leapt out of the way, and Cardinal let the ordnance fly.

"That's the thing about these damn terrorists," Cardinal said. "They talk all tough, but when you whip out the hardware, they run like rats." He listened to the pleasant tak-tak-tak of the guns. The sound would be intolerable in this closed space if he hadn't brought his earplugs.

Two of the smugglers got behind a concrete pillar and started firing back. Feeling he had overstayed his welcome, Cardinal backed towards the door, covering himself with a half dozen or so rounds per second. Tom and Ali had gotten out just ahead of him. As he eased out, he noticed a package on the floor. The seal pelts, he thought. I guess I'll be taking those.

He slung the package over his shoulder, wheeled around and lobbed a grenade over his shoulder. It's a rare gift, Cardinal knew, to be able pull the pin from a grenade and toss it with only one hand. Ah, yes, one of the few happy memories he had of his father.

As the grenade blew Cardinal broke into a dead run towards the car. Marsha had already started the engine, and her hand propped the passenger door open for him. "Three minutes until total mayhem," she said. 'You're lucky I waited. I only put enough change into the parking meter for two minutes."

Next Episode: Pelted with Good Fortune