He said,
“Group hug guys, you passed.”
Sean wasn’t wild about this shite but went with it. Bine laid out some celebratory lines, said,
“The family that cokes together croaks together.”
Jimmy thought that was hilarious.
Bine straightened up, the coke hitting him fast, said,
“Here’s the plan.”
Laid it out.
Jimmy would have agreed to anything but Sean thought it was way out there. Bine said,
“Now we begin. Jimmy, your first job is to go to a graveyard and get us a headstone.”
Sean was beginning to think he was in a movie by Sam Raimi, asked, “A headstone?”
Bine moved to his feet in an easy almost elegant way, said,
“From now on, we have to have certain rules:
One, you don’t question my orders.
Two, I say jump, you ask, how high?”
Sean was thinking, like fuck.
Bine tossed the Colt to Sean, said,
“My gift to you and Headstone. It’s our name and it’s where we are going… to lay every fuckhead this side of the Shannon.” He then went off on a rant about the losers, the scum, the parasites, and how they personally would make a statement to rid the country of all the flotsam.
What snared Sean was when Bine asked,
“You had some dealings with a so-called PI named Taylor?”
Jesus, Sean was shocked, how could he know that?
And that fire of rage that burned in Sean for that man. A few years back, Sean was, he thought, doing good with a babe in a nightclub. Sean ever doing anything with a girl was a nonstarter and so, OK, she was protesting but Sean was flying on dust when this bouncer, an ex-cop, filling in for that one night, grabbed him, said,
“You wanna be a rapist.”
Him? Sean… rape?
And in the middle of the club, he had beaten Sean mercilessly, to the jeers and delight of the clubbers.
And then dragged Sean, literally by his hair, very long then, to the door, put his shoe in his arse, said,
“I see you again, I won’t go so easy.”
Before Sean could ask anything, Bine said,
“He’s on the list.”
Sean was sold.
Later Sean would realize that Bine knew exactly what buttons to press for whomever he needed. It was like a black gift.
Bine ranted on again about Darwin and about the superior races and a lot of stuff that Sean tuned out till Bine said,
“There’s another member of our crew.”
The brothers waited for this revelation.
But Bine was thinking how much these two eejits reminded him of the Menendez brothers. Not that it mattered.
Much.
He never intended them to survive C-Day anyway and if by any chance they did, he’d off the stupid fucks himself. Jimmy he regarded as simply fodder but he didn’t much care for the looks Sean gave him. Time to sweeten the pie. He said,
“There’s a girl-sweet, sweet wee fang.”
Sean nearly groaned. The rants were easier to listen to than the awful American twang.
He let that sink in.
Jimmy simply drooled. Sean waited, so Bine continued,
“Name of Bethany, but don’t let her gorgeous body fool you.
This is a lethal fox and you disher, she’d have your balls for a bracelet.”
He reached in his jacket and Sean thought,
“What, he’s got, like, a photo?”
It was a list.
He said,
“I want that last taken care of ASAP.”
Then threw a shitload of euros on the table.