When Scotland freed Pan Am Flight 103 bomber Abdelbaset Ali Mohmed al-Megrahi last week, a government official cited the nation's deep well of compassion.

"We are a people who pride ourselves on our humanity," Scottish Justice Secretary Kenny MacAskill said in deciding to release Megrahi, suffering from terminal cancer, to Libya after serving only eight years of a life sentence for the 1988 terrorist attack over Lockerbie.

Megrahi showed his 270 victims no such consideration, MacAskill acknowledged, but "outrage cannot and should not be a basis for losing sight of who we are."

In Cherry Hill, Bob and Eileen Monetti couldn't believe their ears. The couple lost their 20-year-old son, Rick, in the Lockerbie bombing and have spent the last 20 years seeking justice and improved airline security in his name.

To the Monettis, MacAskill not only disregarded the wishes of victims' families, but also judged them - and the American legal system - by implying that those who disagreed with the "compassionate release" were vengeful.

"We didn't ask to take him up 31,000 feet and push him out of an airplane," notes the Monettis' daughter, Kara Weipz.

"All we asked," adds Eileen Monetti, "is that he serve his time."

An exclusive club no more

It's easy now, post-9/11, to forget the life-altering significance of the Lockerbie bombing.

"We put a human face on terrorism," Eileen Monetti tells me Friday morning in her formal living room. "We were an exclusive club. We had hoped to stay that way."

Flight 103 family members pushed politicians to impose safety measures - such as X-ray machines that detect plastic explosives - that define airline travel today. Both Bob Monetti and his daughter led the victims' group, helping officials develop a more thoughtful approach to high-profile tragedies. Bob, an engineer, spent years on an Federal Aviation Administration advisory board.

I tell him I read a 1989 story in which he foreshadowed more terrorist attacks involving airplanes. He looks at me, glumly: "I'm sometimes credited for predicting 9/11."

Before last week, the Monettis were like any other family raising a collective eyebrow when law and order defied common sense.

They puzzled when disgraced former State Sen. Vince Fumo received a mere 55-month sentence for his many crimes. They shuddered when Michael Vick exchanged his prison jumpsuit for an Eagles uniform and fellow NFL star Donte Stallworth served only 24 days for DUI manslaughter.

"Our own case started out as a search for truth," Weipz explains of the criminal trial, appeal, civil suit, and $10 million-settlement-per-victim paid by the Libyan government.

What they found "wasn't the whole truth, but it was a slice."

Now, Weipz notes, Megrahi has walked out after serving only 11 days per victim. Some closure.

A sick hero's welcome

Ever the skeptic, Bob Monetti believes Megrahi's release had more to do with geopolitics and a craving for Libyan oil than it did a sick man's right to meet his maker alongside family in his homeland.

"If he really was dying, let him out in Scotland," Bob Monetti says. "I'd be OK with that."

Adds Eileen: "Bring in hospice."

But Scottish law allows for compassionate release, as MacAskill explained: "Our justice system demands that judgment be imposed, but compassion be available."

As he departed, Megrahi continued to maintain his innocence. Stepping off the plane in Libya, he received a hero's welcome.

It was hardly a contrite moment, convincing the Monettis they were right to withhold their mercy.

"I was raised Catholic. I don't live my life with venom," Weipz says, in case anyone in Scotland asks. "I'm a compassionate person, but I cannot have compassion for someone who shows absolutely no remorse."

If that's an example of American anger, surely she can be forgiven.

Contact Monica Yant Kinney

at 215-854-4670 or myant@phillynews.com.

Read her recent work at http://go.philly.com/yantkinney.