The Laughing Monsters Read Online Free PDF

business with you, because I’ll end up living in this hovel. I can’t run back and forth.”
    “That’s your choice, Nair. Don’t blame me.”
    “ Am I in business with you?”
    “That’s also your choice.”
    I took a breath and counted to five. I released a delirious sigh. “What about the girl? Is she with us?”
    “I met her in Colorado.”
    “Congratulations.”
    “Thanks. I’m a lucky man.”
    “Who is she?”
    “More will be revealed.” A lighter flared across the room, somebody starting a cigarette in a group of five white men. Michael cocked his head in that direction, not looking there, his face full of conspiracy. “Now, who are these fellows?”
    “Pilots. Russian. They work for the charter outfits.”
    “They don’t look like civilian pilots. They’re all young, all fit. Why doesn’t at least one of them have a beer belly? Look at the haircuts—regulation.”
    “All right, very good. Who are they?”
    Suddenly he stood up and strode over to their table. He spoke. They replied, and he came back with an unlit cigarette between his teeth and sat down again. “It’s a Rothmans,” he said. “Australian.”
    “You’re still smoking?”
    “Now and then. But everything in moderation.” He took up the candle between us and lit his Rothmans and sat back and blew smoke over my head. “Nair, I’ve got people on my trail.”
    “These guys?”
    “It could be anyone.”
    “Are you in trouble? What’s your situation?”
    “I’ll fill you in eventually.”
    “Stop it! Jesus!” I was the loudest one in the room. I lowered my tone, but I leaned in to his face. “I expected you to be dealing with the big men. Moving money around. Dispensing government contracts, you know? Contracts, not contraband. Diverted aid, siphoned oil revenue, that kind of thing. Money, Michael. Money. Not pebbles and powders.”
    “Don’t let your speech get so strong, mate. There’s plenty of time for plenty of developments. Let’s enjoy the moment.” He mashed his cigarette in the candle’s dish and looked away and entered a personal silence.
    You had to be careful with him. For hurt feelings, Michael would stop the whole show.
    I waited him out. It never took long.
    “It’s been seven years since we saw each other, Nair. I’m thirty-six years old now. I’m changed, I’m different. I’m new.” He turned toward me fully and placed two clenched fists on the table as if in evidence of his newness. “I left Afghanistan four years ago. I underwent training for two years at Fort Bragg, in North Carolina, after which I was transferred to Fort Carson, in Colorado. At Fort Carson I worked as a trainer for internationals, mostly from South America, sometimes from the Middle East. They were confined to the post, and whenever I was part of the training team for an international group, I was also kept on the grounds. Between groups, yes, I could go into town in civilian clothes. On the post I wore a US Army uniform with a sergeant’s hash marks. But I was not in the US Army.”
    A waiter came with a sandwich on a plate. Michael ignored him. He set it on the table. Michael ignored it.
    “They promised me permanent US residency, Nair. They lied. They told me I was on a path to US citizenship. They lied. They said I would enter the US Army as an officer and go as far as my talents could take me. They lied.”
    He waited for comment. I provided none. The white men across the room were drinking like Russians. They laughed like Russians.
    “Listen to me, Nair. I can build you a bomb. Just give me five minutes, I hardly have to move from this spot. Just bring me matches, Christmas lights, and sugar. I can shoot a man from one thousand meters. I’ve done it. I am a man of courage and discipline, and the reward for that is becoming a thug for hire. A goon, a pawn, a cog in a robot who is programmed only to tell you lies.”
    “Sure. We’re all getting older and wiser. That’s sort of my point.”
    “I’ve looked