Drawing Dead (36 page)

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Authors: Andrew Vachss

BOOK: Drawing Dead
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“Mac's good as gold,” Buddha said.

“He's better,” Cross responded. “Price of gold fluctuates, right?”

“Got it, boss.”


Now
can we—?”

“Reloading now,” Rhino said. “Another couple of minutes.”

“IT'S JUST
one station back there,” Rhino said.

“One keyboard, one screen,” he continued. “On that screen, it's something out of a movie set. Tower stack, empty slots. Probably each person who uses it has his own—the slots are the wrong size for anything I know about, too big for any USB key, and they're shaped more like a triangle than a rectangle.

“The cable isn't co-ax. As thick as—I'm guessing now—six, seven inches. I didn't know how much time I had, so I just took measurements as best I could. But storage went off my scale, and I could tell there was plenty more left. Tetrabytes by a factor of…maybe a few hundred. Connected underground, private feed. My tach topped out, too…and it covers all the way to speeds that aren't supposed to exist. So at
least
fifteen hundred megs. Nobody can type that fast, so it has to be for streaming at an insane rate—much more than you'd need for any movie.”

“Back-channel?” Cross asked.

“Deeper than that. There's layers and layers in there. Getting
to
the channel isn't the deal. That would only let you watch, not…participate.”

“Pay to play?”

“Must be. It's too complex for gaming, even with thousands of players on at the same time. There's really no way to tell, not without going in…and I didn't want to try that. Probably self-destructs without an access card.”

“That room's too small for more than one at a time. Two at most, and only one at the keyboard,” Tiger said.

“They must make appointments,” Tracker added. “With plenty of space between them, so they never eyeball each other.”


That's
why there's two ways in!” Tiger burst out.

“It's blackmail waiting to happen,” Buddha said. “They gotta have cameras—”

“They used to,” Rhino squeaked.

“So Long was right,” Buddha said, unable to keep pride from his voice.

“She was on the money,” Cross conceded, letting the double meaning of that compliment hang in the air. “Too bad you had to make that Lao dead, huh?”

“I—” Buddha began, before a look from Cross silenced him.

“She's at your house, now?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay. You need to talk to her. Not on the phone. Does anyone know Pekelo's gone? Can she find out where he lived? If the cops have already visited, no point in us taking a look. But it hasn't been
that
long….”

Buddha was already exiting.

“ACE CALL
any of you?” Cross asked.

Silence was his answer.

“Okay, this much we know, then: He's looking for Percy. If Percy's looking for Blondie and Wanda, okay. But if he's
guarding
them, Ace is all done.”

“How can you say that?” Rhino demanded. “Ace is as good as—”

“If Ace took them out, he would have gotten word to us. If he's still looking, he wouldn't call. The way things stand, that last, it's the best we can hope for.”

“For Percy, it would be a job,” Tracker said. “Whatever he is told to do, that
is
his job. The mission is defined. He had nothing but contempt for those two, but if he was told to protect them, he would do that. All of this is true. But I know they—Percy and Ace—they have made a decision to hunt together.”

“How could you know that?”

“I was…present when they discussed things.”

If the gang boss was surprised at Tracker's quiet announcement, he didn't change expression. “Percy's job was to make those two disappear, he'd do that job,” Cross said. “So we won't know until we hear from Ace. The G has its cyber-slingers on full go—Wanda wouldn't open any channel that could be traced.”

“I can think of a channel I'd like to open,” Tiger added.

No one responded; it wasn't a statement that invited questions.

Cross closed his eyes and lit a cigarette.

Don't push it!
his mind admonished him.
You can't get to wherever it is. But if you wait, it might come to you.

Time passed as the urban mercenary let his mind drift.

“What else am I gonna do?”

“You can still go anyway you want once you're free,” Cross told his only friend. “Me, all I can do is get over that Wall. And keep moving.”

“Yeah, you so special? I got a parole coming; sure, I know that. But what then? Go to night school, get a GED, just for some slave job? The only trade I know is the one I learned in here. Be yourself, brother.”

“I had to—”

“What? Try? I called you ‘brother,' right? Not ‘Pops' or any of that stuff. I didn't have no father. And my momma didn't have no judgment. I'll be by myself.”

“Not once I figure out a way to—”

“Oh, you'll do that. You been doing it since you was a little kid, the way the guards tell it. So…you're saying we keep on working together? Sure. Why not? Ain't neither of us coming back Inside, I'm telling that true?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you are. But if we're gonna work, we might as well ramp it up—pass on all the small scores. You know I read all the time, right? Well, you know what I've been reading lately?”

“No.”

“Lies. ‘Money can't buy happiness'—how many times you heard that? But here's the thing: Happiness is…what? For me, it's not coming back. For you, too, now. And that's something money
can
buy.”

“Like lawyers and—?”

“Sure. But even that's not the whole thing. As crooked as this town is, name something money can't buy. But you remember what that rhyming guy is always saying? About money?”

“You flash the cash, people be looking for your stash?”

“On the nose. But I don't want a fancy car, or jewelry, or even nice clothes. I want to be safe. They'll be looking for me until they get tired, or…”

“Or what?”

“Or until I stop being me.”

“Man, talk sense.”

“All I am is a name. In here, not even that—I'm a number. But I can lose my name. And I won't have a number on the other side of that wall.”

“Yeah? What about your prints? I didn't get in any kind of trouble until I landed here. But they took my prints, same as they did yours.”

“There's only one way they get to use those prints, brother.”

“Not mine, not yours, not ever,” Vernon Lewis said to Marlon Cain, holding out his fist. The other boy touched that fist with his own, sealing the pact.

CROSS OPENED
his eyes.

“I don't need any damn messages from space to tell me what I already know,” he said aloud. “Ace is still here. I don't know where he is, but I don't have to. I know he wouldn't leave without me.” The hackles on the back of the Akita's neck rose, but the dog made no sound.

“Someone's coming,” Princess said. “Sweetie always knows before I do.”

Soon enough, Buddha proved the truth of Sweetie's sensory powers.

“I got the address, boss. But…”

“Buddha, there's no time for this.
What
]

“So Long, she's out there. In the car. Said it would save time if she could call while I was rolling, and I know we're short on—”

“Tracker, you got a ride around?”

“You can use my—”

“Thanks, Princess, but we might have to carry some stuff out, and your bike doesn't have a lot of storage,” Cross said, not mentioning that a Pepto-pink Harley with open pipes wouldn't promote a silent approach…or an unnoticed departure.

“I'm driving,” Buddha said. “But I have to leave So Long here. That okay?”

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