Kill the King
need two to make a derivery . It’s up
the stairs, rast door to da reft.”
    Khaled handed
Tyler the briefcase.
    “Don’t take too
long, my friend.”
    “I won’t. Be
good while I’m gone, alright? If they give you shit about being
Arab, tell them a story about the bad old days in Rafah.”

    ****

    Frank Metzger’s
office was easy to spot. It was the only lit room on the other end
of the dim, narrow corridor. As he slowly paced towards the office,
Tyler could hear some indistinct conversation. He gathered that
Metzger was reading a prepared speech.
    “My brothers,
let it be known that—”
    The speech was
interrupted by a violent fit of coughing from someone inside the
office, then resumed.
    “My brothers,
let it be known that we will not sit idly by and allow our enemies
to destroy all that we’ve worked so hard to accomplish in our
righteous war against the degenerate races. The—”
    More coughing,
followed by some frustrated profanity.
    “The niggers,
who plague our society with their criminality and vulgar culture.
They are incorrigibly violent, lecherous, and indolent. The
parasitic Orientals who come over in endless droves and steal our
livelihoods, and spread diseases originating from their
uncivilized, impoverished cesspools. The race traitors who defile
themselves and bring shame on us all for copulating with fetid
beasts. These unions between the races are an abomination, and yet
every day our white brothers and sisters are being coerced into
tainting the bloodlines even further! To what extent shall we
continue turning a blind eye and allow our brethren to vanish into
extinction, I ask you? And let’s—”
    More coughing,
as well as some spitting and more profanity.
    “And let’s not
forget the greasy Mediterranean hordes and their shameful Moorish
heritage. The wetbacks and all their filthy progenies who reek of
miscegenation. The blaspheming camel-fucking terrorists who kill
our soldiers overseas, and then have the audacity to move here
afterwards and desecrate all the white Christian values that we
hold so dear. I say, let those savages go back to their huts in the
desert! We have no use for them! And what about the cock-sucking
faggots and cunt-punching dykes, who insult God with their
fornication? If we allow them to live with impunity, they will
someday prey on our children! And let’s not forget the
fucking Jews, the lowliest vermin of all, who must be
eradicated to cleanse our world! Arise, my brothers! We must—”
    The tirade was
interrupted by Tyler’s gentle rapping at the office door. Some
shuffling of papers could be heard, as well as more coughing.
    “It’s not
locked, Tyler. You can come in.”
    Tyler entered
the office. Metzger was seen with his back turned, muttering as he
tried to pry open one of the windows.
    “How’d you know
it was me?”
    “I was notified
as soon as you and Khaled pulled in.”
    His back was
turned away as he was still occupied with opening the window. The
latches looked rusty.
    “Plus, I can
tell you’re still smoking those goddamn clove cigarettes. I can
smell you from a mile away. You can put the briefcase on my desk,
by the way.”
    Tyler did as
asked, and Metzger managed to finally crack the window open a bit
before sitting down at his desk. Metzger’s face was shiny from
perspiration, and his thin white t-shirt was visibly stained with
sweat around his collar and armpits. He opened the briefcase
halfway and inspected its contents for a few seconds before closing
and locking it, then dabbed at his face with a moist cloth.
    “Tyler, can you
please confirm with me whether this briefcase has been tampered
with or not? I can’t help but feel that something is a bit. .
. off, let’s say. If something happened to this briefcase or
its contents that I’m not aware of, this is the time to tell
me.”
    “Mr. Boreta had
it delivered to my home this morning, and I’ve held on to it for
all this time until now. The only other person who carried it

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