Cobra Clearance (16 page)

“Couple a times a week.”

“Cocaine?”

“Of course.”

“Clarify.”

“You go to parties, you do blow. Did some lines 'bout a month ago.”

“Keep going.”

“Drop acid now an' then. Use ‘X' sometimes.” He paused. “Ecstasy, ya know?”

“Yes.”

“Never did meth or crack. Done my share a junk, though.”

“Heroin, huh? Describe your ‘share.' Begin with how you got started.”

“There was this judge's daughter. We was in ninth grade. One day she asked me to smoke some with her. It got to be a reg'lar thing. She'd come to the trailer and...”

“Why did she come to your...trailer?”

“‘Cause she liked to slum. Plus my ma let me bang my babes there...so she'd know where I was at least? Anyway, we'd get it on, get high—get it on again. Well, we did till I knocked her up.” He shrugged. “Heard she adopted it out. But yeah, she turned me onto it. Then later me an' some friends started slammin'.”

Kruger arched his eyebrows. “You injected?”

Levi shuffled his feet. A floorboard creaked. “Billy's folks was never home, see? So we'd go there to smoke junk. But we started 'sperimentin'. Ended up slammin'.”

“You realize the risks associated with such reckless behavior?”

Levi rolled his eyes. “We used clean needles an'
never
shared. I mean, we was kids but we wasn't stupid. An' I ain't never had no HIV or VD.”

“How many times a day do you mainline?”

“Two, maybe three times. But that's a
month
. Or it was; I'm off junk now.”

“Really? How long? A day? A week?”

“Stopped usin' reg'lar the day I turned seventeen.” He squinted. “Done some a few times since, but it's been awhile—maybe a year. An' no, I ain't doin' no Oxy.”

“Hmm. What motivated you to...quell your usage? The law?”

“Nah. Junk's okay an' I won't say I don't still got a taste for it. But it ain't
that
good.” He made a sound. “Plus I got tired a carrying tracks all the time.”

“Tracks?”

“Track marks. The stuff we used? Low grade skag. Had to cut it with lemon juice. You jam that kinda junk up a vein, you get tracks. Babes would see my smack tracks an' back the hell off.” He cocked a hip. “Well, at first. But I'd still get 'em into bed.”

“Oh? Tell me more.” Kruger shifted in his chair and waited expectantly.

“What's to say? Lotta babes like havin' sex with bad boys.” He sniffed, making his nostrils flare. “'Specially them college babes. They was the best. Nice an' juicy. Mmm…Yeah, did a bunch a threesomes with 'em. Put a kid in this one babe.” He studied Kruger.
Hell, this guy acts like he's getting off on all this talk of girls and dope. What's with him
?

Kruger stroked his chin. “I value your candor. You've owned up to your drug use and you didn't become addicted. Addicts are weak and I do not tolerate weakness.”

Jackson jerked a thumb at Levi. “He's not weak. You should've seen him kick ass today. Some black abba-dabba tried storming the Sunset. Eric thumped him good.”

Kruger stared at Jackson, his eyes obsidian black. “Big deal.”

“But the son of a bitch pulled a gun and started shooting. And Eric kept coming.” Jackson turned to Levi. “Show him your shoe.” Then he said to Kruger, “The bullet went right through his shoe but he
still
went after him.”

Kruger ran a forefinger along his jawbone and regarded Levi
with new interest. “Kept coming, huh? Okay, what else brings you here?”

Levi affected the relaxed attitude of a man who doesn't know the danger he faces and said amiably, “I need a place to work on my bike?” He licked his wind-chapped lips.

“I told you before. Get rid of the wise-ass attitude or I'll make you wish you had.”

“I'm here 'cause white men can't get decent jobs no more. This is a white man's country. We got enough mongrels, an' now we're getting all them Asians.”

Kruger's upper lip curled. “You mean coons, spics and chinks, don't you?”

Levi stared back through half-lidded eyes. “I got no issue with them personally. But they don't belong here, an' they shouldn't be mixin' their blood with ours.”

“Hmm. Tell me, how many children have you fathered?”

“Dunno exactly. Six for sure but I'm thinking eleven. Probably more. Whatever.”

“How characteristic of your kind, to breed so prodigiously.”

Furrows erupted across Levi's forehead. “What's that mean?”

“Never mind.”

“No, I get it. You're wonderin' if the junk I did messed up my chrome zones. But you don't gotta worry.” He showed a touch of pride. “The kids I did see was all healthy. An' other babes I juicedup? The ones I know ended up with one a my kids? I never heard a any problems with them kids, either.”

Kruger stared straight ahead, then picked up the phone and dialed an extension. Seconds later he said, “Mr. Potts. Please find Doc Stewart and join me here. Have Gail report as well. Yes, thank you.” He put down the phone. “We'll wait.”

The door opened five minutes later and a tall thin man in his late forties and dressed like Kruger walked inside. He had a combover,
a pinched face, pockmarked cheeks and tobacco-stained fingers. A second man followed; mid-sixties, blue sport jacket, green polyester trousers. His face was a blank slate and he avoided Kruger's eye.

Kruger gestured at the tall, balding one. “This is Mr. Potts, our chief of security.” He looked at the older man. “Dr. Stewart, obstetrics and gynecology.”

Levi nodded in their direction. There was nothing in the Bureau's report on this Potts character. Nothing on the doctor either. This wasn't good.

“
Eric
,” Kruger began as if he had bitten into a lemon, “wants to join us.” He told both men all that he had learned about Eric Briggs, then turned to Levi. “Mr. Potts will conduct a thorough background check.” He dropped his voice. “He'll check everything. High school yearbook photos, social security; where your dog Fido is buried. Nothing is left to chance. If you choose to leave then do so now. If you stay and he discovers you're not who you claim to be—or worse, that you're a government agent—you will die a most horrible death.”

He opened a desk drawer and produced a knife with a long wicked blade. “This is a flensing knife. If you're a cop, we will take you to the Mexican border and skin you alive. Then we'll stake you out, slather you with honey and cover you with fire ants. Rest assured, you will still be conscious while they feast. We will then douse your legs with raw kerosene and set them ablaze. The rest of you will remain alive. For a while. If authorities come asking, we'll explain that you were sent with our men to safeguard our borders from illegal aliens. This will not strike them as odd. Vigilante groups are often in the news, are they not? How unfortunate for us that a group of Mexican drug-runners came across you and—well, how sad indeed.” He reached back into the drawer and pulled out a dozen eight-by-eleven glossy photos. Turning them
over one by one he watched Levi's face. “Here's a gentleman that I skinned alive.”

“Cop?”

“No. We caught him looking at another man in a most unhealthy way.” He sniffed. “We weren't going to wait until he revealed his tendencies any further.”

Levi saw photos of a fortyish man with a hefty beer gut. The first photo showed him bound to a fence post, eyes wide, lips drawn back and mouth open in what could only be a primal scream. Each successive photo revealed ever-larger patches of raw tissue and muscle as his skin was peeled away. Kruger appeared in four of the photos, slicing away with knife in hand. The last ones showed the guy's lower torso aflame while his denuded biceps strained against the ropes that bound him to the post. Levi recalled the DEA agent's report alleging that Kruger had sliced a man and burned him alive.
Oh my God
. But he showed no emotion as he stared at Kruger. “I got nothin' to hide.”

Potts spoke for the first time in a soft, even feminine voice. “Then you shall have nothing to fear.”

Kruger gave Levi another once-over. “Reddish brown hair. Blue eyes. Fair skin. Fine. You're white.” He asked tauntingly, “But how do we know you're not a Jew?”

Levi let out a coarse laugh. “Guess I could drop my britches an' prove it.”

“Is that so? Then do it.” Kruger watched Levi undo his pants. After they fell to his ankles, Kruger frowned and shook his head. “Christ, no underwear.”

“Yeah. I go commando. Less stuff to wash. Why, that a problem?”

“Jesus.” Kruger looked at Doc Stewart. “Proceed.”

Stewart retrieved a latex exam glove from a jacket pocket and pulled it on, giving the cuff a snap against his wrist. Going to Levi, he conducted a brief examination. When he was done he pulled
off the glove, flung it into a plastic-lined wastebasket and intoned in a clinical voice, “Adult male; uncircumcised; foreskin presents with ridged band, intact frenulum and mucosal inner lining. There's no sign of grafting or suturing. It's real.”

“So,” Kruger began as Levi hoisted his pants, “you're clearly from the lower social strata, but then you also possess an Aryan feature. More to the point you're not another Zionist agent with a fake foreskin. See? We are very thorough.”

Levi nodded.
And very nutso if you're this paranoid
.

Kruger traded glances with Potts. “There's still time. Walk through the door.” When Levi shook his head doggedly Kruger said, “Okay. You're white and you're not Jewish. How do we know you're not homosexual?”

Levi opened his mouth but Jackson blurted, “He's not. He's been trying to move in on Brenda—that new bartender I told you about? With the bodacious tits?”

Kruger turned on Jackson with a finger pointed like a pistol. “Open your mouth again and I'll personally cut out your tongue.” Jackson gulped and slinked away while Kruger snapped at Potts, “Where's Gail?” Before Potts could reply there was a tentative knock at the door. Kruger called out, “Enter.”

The door opened and a young girl with blue eyes, golden hair and a simple blouse and jeans walked inside. Kruger told Levi, “As you can clearly see, Gail is pre-pubescent. She's going to have intercourse with you, while we take photos.” He turned to the child. “Gail? You know what to do.”

Levi felt a chill run through him as she approached. It was standard gang ritual to make prospective members have sex with one or more of the gang's women and he'd prepared himself for that. He could separate the physical chore from his emotions. But some gangs now used young girls to flush out covert agents. No agent would consent to doing it and the gang would reject him—
or worse. But if an overzealous agent ever did, the photos would ruin his credibility in court. Kruger was evidently ruthless enough to use a child to protect his own interests and Levi saw but one way out, although it could backfire if they called his bluff. But his instincts told him that Kruger was simply taking his measure, so he folded his arms across his chest. “I ain't screwin' no kid. But get me a woman and I'll rock her world for her right here, right now.”

Kruger held a hand up and Gail stopped in her tracks. “Good response. You don't scare easily and you have a value system...of sorts.” He opened his arms wide and Gail went to him at once and kissed his cheek. He gave her an affectionate hug and sent her back to the dorm, and after she left he glanced at Levi. “Gail was not going to have sex with you. I love children and you've demonstrated similar feelings. That is to your credit. Had you not protested, I would've thrown you out.”

“Like I said. I ain't here to hurt no kids.” Privately, he felt a trace of respect for Kruger.
Sure, he put her in an X-rated situation but I believe him—he wasn't about to let her carry through and he genuinely cares about kids. Okay. Good for him
.

Kruger turned to Potts. “Eric claims to have fathered several children and I've no reason to doubt it. He possesses all the earmarks of a Lothario, and Jackson has pointed out that he's already set his sights on a barmaid. I'd say he's probably straight. Still, one never knows.” He paused, then looked at Levi. “Very well. Strip.”

Damn, they're bringing in a woman. Time for Plan B
. “Sure. Whatever you say.” Levi took off his leather jacket and looked for a place to hang it.

Kruger pointed to the floor. “Put your things there.” When the jacket hit the solid wooden planks, Kruger said, “We'll find a woman later. In the meantime we'll begin vetting you.”

Levi said a silent prayer of relief. Either Kruger had bought into his bluff or else Jackson's remark had saved him. Either way,
he had reached a critical juncture. From now on he would play the obedient soldier to a former enlisted man with grandiose illusions. He would not question any order barked at him or show the slightest hesitation. His goal now was to prove he was a team player and willing to put the organization's needs above his own. He stripped completely and stood naked.

Squinting, Kruger pointed at him. “How did you get that scar on your hip?”

“A hunter thought I was a deer an' let one loose.”

Jackson said, “Bet you didn't let him get away with it, either.”

“No friggin' way. When I found out where he lived? I went an' kicked his ass.”

Potts gingerly picked up one of Levi's socks and sneered. “Full of holes. What, you can't afford new ones?” Then his nose crinkled. “Or a laundromat?”

Levi blazed back, “I got money for gas, ganj an' food. So... whatever.”

After examining the worn soles of Levi's shoes, Potts held up his ill-fitting shirt and put a finger through a tattered tear in the back. He looked in Kruger's direction and grimaced, then put his boot against the rest of Levi's clothes and pushed them into a corner. Walking to the file cabinet, he yanked open the middle drawer and got a handheld electrical device and a set of orange surgical scrubs. The latter he tossed to Levi. “Put 'em on.” After Levi complied, Potts swept the device over Levi's body. “Open your mouth.” Holding it close to Levi's teeth he asked, “Did you know there are transmitters and receivers disguised as teeth? Imagine that. Now sit at the desk.” Potts handed him a manila folder and pen. “You'll find a lengthy questionnaire inside the folder. Fill it out completely. You've got fifteen minutes.” He checked his watch.