Home > culture, life, vigilante, writing > Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 14)

Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 14)

I admit that I was wondering what hit me when I got lured into N3. I was just concerned for my old neighbour, Mr. Hahn. He was a barber and when I was a kid he gave me my first haircut and about fifty haircuts after that before my family moved out to the suburbs. The city had grown so much since then that it was no longer a suburb, rather it was practically midtown.

I sat there with an Uzi Sub Machine Gun in my lap. Close to my right side, Aileen Schachter held a machine pistol while she peered through some underbrush at the barn. It stood like a grey ghost at the end of a dirt path just wide enough for a pickup truck. Spotted around the perimeter of the barn, a dozen other N3 members watched the dirt path and the barn. Most carried Uzis.

Our ballistics team was made up of two guys and two women. They had spent the last three nights around the barn, rigging the explosives. As a finishing touch, they painted the whole barn door white with a big, blue six-pointed Star of David like on the Israeli flag.

I was feeling guilty. I couldn’t get comfortable with the idea of so much destruction and potential bodily harm. I sat with my back to the barn, resting on the bushes. I was formulating a plan to separate myself from N3. I was in it by accident, actually. I had just wanted to seduce Aileen. After we’d become lovers, I felt guilty about going back to my boring life.

There I was, plotting to abandon the vengeful vigilantes of N3 when Naomi Cheslow slipped through the foliage and sat close to my left side. Naomi was one of the ballistics technicians. She held a small sending unit in her hand, its red light flashing in brief intervals. Sitting on the ground together, we were about eye to eye. When standing my eyes are about level with her long, lovely, slender throat and she can see clear over me. Actually, all of Naomi Cheslow is long, lovely and slender.

“Hi, how are you,” she said. She had a magnificent smile, gleaming white, even teeth between full, pink lips glowed from her tanned face.

“You seem happy,” I said. “How can you be happy? You’re about to cause a lot of destruction and possibly hurt someone.”

“I’ll tell you about it sometime, when I’m not so busy. What are you doing after we blow this joint?”

“We’re going back to my place so I can cook you up a fabulous dinner, right, Sweetheart?” Aileen interjected from my other side without taking her eyes off the barn. We had no such plan but I chose to not say so.

“When are you going to blow it?” I said to Naomi.

“When the assholes come down the road with their Harleys and their pickup trucks, they’ll see that Jewish Star and freak out.”

“You’re not going to kill them, are you?” I said. Naomi looked into my eyes.

“You’re a nice man, you know?” she said. “And pretty, too.”

Aileen shushed her. “I hear them,” she said. Naomi rolled around onto her stomach and watched through the foliage. The cacophony of growling Harley-Davidsons grew louder and suddenly they burst into sight coming down the trail two-by-two. The burbling sounds of V-twin engines died away one by one. Voices of rage could be heard as the gang gathered in the dirt parking area before the barn. The apparent leader strode toward the barn door.

That’s when Naomi Cheslow threw a small switch. The slowly pulsing red light turned to a steadily burning green light. She pushed the button.

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