Around the jutting point of land to the east of the Senator’s home, Kaamil ushered his men into the house commandeered for the evening. He let them wander through the house and see the family he had killed. It was essential they realize that what he was asking of them was more lasting than a mansion and a beautiful wife and children. Every man wanted those common things. But he was offering them immortality and lasting fame.
When they were all seated in the great room, overlooking the lake and the boathouse, he gave them their final instructions.
“I know each of you, and the fire that burns within you. There is no God but Allah, and he will never mislead or fail us. It is time to teach this country and its President that they cannot defeat us. They hide their eyes from the television when we execute one of them, because they fear their god is not powerful enough to care for them in death. We embrace death and have a God that welcomes our sacrifice,” Kaamil told them. “Tonight you have the chance to do what you’ve promised me, and Allah, you were willing to do. Bring me the heads of everyone in the house, and we’ll show the world no one hides from Allah’s justice, not even the chief of America’s Homeland Security. Now, prepare yourselves while I get the boat ready. We leave as soon as it’s dark.”
Each man in the room nodded his understanding and began checking his equipment for the last time. When he returned, Kaamil would give them the meth cocktail Malik had prepared to make them fight like mighty Muslim warriors.
Kaamil left the house and walked down to the boathouse as the setting sun cast long shadows over the lake. The lawn had just been mowed and smelled of freshly cut grass. It reminded him of prison, and the grounds crew he had worked on.
The boathouse housed one of the most expensive boats that cruised the lake, and that was one of the reasons he’d chosen it for the night’s mission. The boat was a 1946 Gar Wood Commodore Runabout, worth a quarter of a million dollars or more. With polished dark brown wood and a classic profile, it was one of a kind and, because of that, it was well protected. It was also so well-known by the lakeside residents who might see it, and not take a second look in the dark to see who was driving it.
Kaamil had two keys he had taken from the key rack in the house, labeled “boat” and “boathouse.” The first key opened the door of the boathouse. From the gently moving dock, he stepped inside, closed the door and turned on the lights. To his left, the runabout floated securely in the privacy of its temperature-monitored home.
He’d driven boats before, like the one Roberto kept in Hood River, but he’d never driven a boat like this. He wasn’t sure how to start such an old boat, although it couldn’t be that hard, he told himself.
Kaamil stepped into the front seat of the boat. The red leather seats looked like the seats in an old, expensive sports car and smelled of leather conditioner. He settled behind the small steering wheel and studied the dashboard. There was a series of controls, including a brass button, to the left of the steering wheel, but no obvious place for the second key to start the boat. If the second key didn’t start the boat, then what was it for? He willed himself to be calm and studied the problem before him.
There wasn’t anything on the dashboard to receive the key in his hand. There had to be some other place for it, some other way to start the boat. He got up and walked to the rear of the boat, looking for a switch or receptacle for the key. Nothing. He stood beside the engine compartment, turned and retraced his steps. Again he saw nothing that he had missed.
But when he turned again to walk to the rear of the boat, he noticed the keyed lock for the engine compartment. With the second key, he unlocked the cover, revealing an old engine that looked as new as any new car engine. He studied the engine for several minutes. Nothing looked like a starter that required a key. The choke on the engine, however, had a blue label that read “forward to prime engine before pushing starter button on dash.”
Kaamil moved the choke to ON then slipped back into the seat behind the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the brass button and heard the engine fire to life. It bubbled powerfully behind the stern of the boat. Allah be praised, he thought.
Kaamil turned the engine off, moved the choke back to its original position and stepped out of the boat. They had transportation. Now his men just needed the courage to fulfill the mission he was sending them on.