Thirty minutes later, dinner was served while Christmas music played in the background. The meal itself was perfection. Kyros and the kitchen staff served the traditional Christmas goose with all the trimmings. Plum pudding, fine wine, and coffee finished off the meal. The conversation was cheerful, with all the recruits recounting their days in New York.

Pappy listened to the tales, thinking back to the last time he’d been in New York. It sounded to him like nothing had changed except maybe the merchandise in the stores. When the staff started to clear the tables, he stood and led the way back to the lovely room he’d decorated with such enthusiasm. It was almost nine o’clock and time to gather around the tree to sing “Silent Night” before opening the Christmas presents.

“Silent Night” segued into “White Christmas,” then to a rousing rendition of “Jingle Bells.” Surprisingly, the loudest, most off-key voice was Pappy’s. Everyone, including Sam, applauded long and loud. Pappy bowed.

Kyros looked at his son. It had to be the triple shot of ouzo he’d given Pappy. Anything to loosen him up. Well, his son was suddenly as loose as the goose Kyros had cooked for dinner. Maybe I’ve created a monster, Kyros thought as he started to arrange the chairs around the tree with Hawkins’s help.

Fresh flutes of champagne were passed around by the kitchen staff as Kyros acted like Santa and handed out the gifts from under the tree. When everyone had their designated pile of gifts, Kyros started to take pictures. “Smile everyone.” Everyone smiled. “For posterity,” Kyros said.

Ribbon and brightly colored paper formed mini-mountains in the huge family room. Sam wondered who was going to clean it all up. She felt woozy with all the wine she’d consumed. Before she left she was going to need several cups of black coffee.

Whether it was deliberate or not, the last presents to be opened were from Pappy. They weren’t ritzy presents, nor were they expensive, but they were thoughtful gifts. Each of them ooohed and aaahed over his or her gift, appreciating the originality, especially the three Rainford wives who got toy guns painted in their favorite colors. Sam looked down at her Bon Jovi CD and smiled at Pappy. “Thank you. I don’t have this one.”

Damn, did that mean he’d finally done something right? “My pleasure,” he said gallantly. “Thank you for the Sinatra CD. It’s a reissue, and I don’t have it.”

Alpha plowed his way through the debris to where his pile of gifts were. The group started to help him until he growled. They backed off. The dog looked at Sam, who dropped to her knees and started to undo the ribbons. One by one, Alpha carted off his gifts.