by Frank Rich
"Who's she?"
"A revolutionary."
"Are you sure? She doesn't dress like one."
"There's more to insurrections than fashion. She's the one who hired me."
"Oh. The Marlene girl."
"Yes. Purely a business thing."
"Then kiss me goodbye."
"When did we start kissing?"
"Starting now."
As I kissed her she threw her arms around my neck and turned it into something dramatic. "Don't stay out too late," she said, and I climbed into the cruiser, once again confounded by the female creature.
A transparent shield subdivided the plush interior and separated us from the chauffeur. As the cruiser pulled away Marlene and I regarded each other. She wore a shimmering one-piece tube dress and matching green pillbox hat from which a black veil hung. Emeralds glittered from her ears, wrists and throat. I couldn't help laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"You're finally wearing your own clothes."
She shifted self-consciously on the seat. "I'm sorry, I didn't know I'd be running into you."
"Don't be sorry. I like it. It's honest."
"Oh," she said, brightening. We engaged in idle talk about the trip to Denver, then whammo.
"So who's the little girl?"
"A friend. She's older than she looks." I lit a vitacig.
"I'd say she's something more than a friend."
I shrugged.
"Are you sleeping with her?"
"What difference does that make?"
"None at all. I just thought we had something special, that's all." She got out a hankie. If she was going to cry she would be ready.
"I didn't think we'd see each other again," I said. "Separated forever by Fate's cruel hand. You know how it is."
She dabbed at her eyes. "Well, I never gave up on you. You've hurt me, Jake."
"I see that and I'm sorry."
"No matter," she said, putting the hankie away and straightening. "We've a revolution to run. We can't let petty personal things get in the way."
"No. Certainly not."
The cruiser pulled in front of a large and stately town house.
"We're here," Marlene said.
"Where's here?"
"Our temporary headquarters. Rob's inside. He'll be very glad to see you."
"I'm sure he will."
"Is that sarcasm?"
"Why would you think that?"
We started up the steps. "You know, you should try to get on Rob's good side. He's quite a wonderful person once you get to know him."
"I don't trust him."
"You mean you don't like him."
"I don't trust him, I don't like him, I don't want to be his chum."
We paused on the porch. "I can understand the personality clash," Marlene said. "But why do you find it so hard to trust Robert?"
"He's an atheist, isn't he?"
"So?"
"A man who doesn't believe in an afterlife, in a final reward or punishment, is dangerous."
"I don't know when you're serious, Jake." She lowered her head. "I'm sorry about the scene in the car."
"Don't worry about it. There's nothing wrong with being human."
"That's a funny thing to say, coming from you."
I let that go. "Let's go inside."
After conferring with the guard at the door, Marlene led me through a series of hallways. The oak paneling, marble statues and elaborately framed paintings made me feel I was touring a private museum with a lavish budget.
"I always thought revolutions were planned in dingy basements or jungle campsites," I said.
"It's one of our parents' summer homes."
"Do Mom and Dad know what you're up to?"
She smiled mischievously. "Of course not. They'd never forgive us. We'd be disinherited for certain."
"Heavens."
We stopped in front of a big oak door. "Security said he's in here, the study."
"Of course."
Marlene opened the door and we walked in. Rob sat in an oversize captain's chair behind a large walnut desk. He had guests.
"Ah," Rob said with a smile. "If it isn't our tardy hero, back from the vast unknown."
"Please stay seated," I said to the dozen goons in the room. "Are we interrupting?"
"No, not at all. In fact, I believe some of my guests have made your acquaintance."
A slim gray-headed man rose and faced me. He was smiling like a jackal. "A pleasure to see you again, Sergeant Strait."
I ignored his offered hand and fought the urge to rip out his jugular. "Well, well," I sneered. "The Butcher. I never expected to see you this side of Hell."
"Long life goes to the good," the Butcher replied.
"How do you manage, then?"
"He manages quite well, in fact," Rob said. "Mr. Baker is my chief of operations. You may also know Mr. Pota, a man of your own profession."
A dark, ferret-faced man stood up. "Hello, Jake."
"Manuel," I said. "I see you're still doing political work."
"As are you," he said in his rasping whisper.
"For different reasons, I'm sure."
I looked around at the others, a true rogues' gallery of vicious militiamen, tattooed gang leaders, dead-eyed mercenaries, soulless bogeymen. "It looks like a convention in Hell."
The gang leaders and militiamen half rose from their seats, eager to protect their reps. The mercs smiled; the bogeymen stared, sizing me up.
"You're no different from us," Pota said. "You kill for money, too."
"Money? You guys are in it for the cash? And to think I had you figured as idealists."
"We're all on the same side," Marlene pointed out. "Striving for the same goal."
"Ha! These scum aren't striving for anyone but themselves. A pack of killers." I pointed at the Butcher. "Led by the bloodiest killer of them all."
"There's no need for that, Jake," Marlene said.
"Did you read this bastard's resume"?" I asked. "He was a corporate mercenary. He committed atrocities for the highest bidder. He's massacred enough civilians to populate a medium-sized town."
"Those weren't civilians," the Butcher snapped. "They were Party sympathizers. And if I remember correctly, you had a reputation of killing civilians yourself, Ranger Strait. The only difference is you killed for the Party."
"Gentlemen!" Rob shouted, smiling. He seemed to be enjoying the exchange. "This is no time to argue. I think our meeting was finished anyway. We all have jobs to do, so let's get out there and do them. Remember, the quicker the work, the quicker the reward."
They sauntered out, glaring at me with different intensities, keeping their machismo intact. When the last had filed out, I took off my jacket and dropped into an armchair.
"I can see you're running a real class act here," I said.
"They're professionals," Rob said. "If you want a job done right, you hire the best."
"They're professional scum. Vicious animals. There wasn't a conscience in the room until I walked in."
Rob cackled at me. "What are you talking about? How long are you going to delude yourself? You should take a long look in the mirror. You're exactly the same as them, cut from the same cloth."
Marlene sat on the desk. "Let's forget all that and get down to business."
I stared at them, feeling an eerie sense of déjà vu. Then I got it. "All we're missing is the lumberjack."
Rob looked up. "Where is Bruce anyway?"
"Cannibals ate him."
Marlene frowned. "I thought he went to live in the desert."
I shrugged. "Maybe so."
"How long have you been in Denver?" Rob asked.
"Long enough to know."
"Long enough to know what?"
"That Denver isn't ready for a revolution. At least not the kind you're thinking of."
Rob looked down at the papers on his desk. "Well, according to our contacts…"
"You're not in contact with the street," I int
errupted, "that's your problem. Denver isn't on the verge of rebellion. Remi is in control of everything. He's even got them fighting turf battles with his rules. Everyone's so afraid of the poppers they don't dare make a move."
"Well, I don't know where you get your information," Rob said, "but according to our polls, the people are discontent and desire change."
"It doesn't matter how discontented they are. If they're unwilling to act, there will be no revolution."
Marlene moved to the window. "We are… aware of the timidness and fear that paralyzes the masses. That's why we've brought in outside idealists."
"You must mean me and those killers."
Marlene frowned. "Jake, you know as well as I it's not the means that matters, it's the end. We're going to bypass the people and go right for the head of the snake."
"That sounds more like a coup d'état than a popular insurrection."
Marlene gave me one of her sensual looks. "Does it matter how we do it as long as the power falls into the hands of the people? All we're asking is that you do your part. We'll do the rest."
"What is my part again? I seem to have forgotten."
Rob said, "Since you're so late, we had to move ahead without you. We've done quite well. Everything is set up, and we're about to embark on the final phase of the operation."
"That being?"
"The killing of Remi. The seizure of power."
"Remi is just one man. What makes you think his death will topple the Party?"
"Remi is the Party. He is the head of the serpent. He's been dictator so long the regime can't survive without him."
"I think you're overestimating him. And his evil."
"Are you joking?" Marlene said. "He's the vilest man in the world! A tyrant's tyrant! Not to mention a cruel oppressor of civil liberties!"
"And he's been converting the children," Rob chimed in. "Creating future generations of slaves. Make no mistake, he's a despicable one!"
"The low swine!" I cried with feigned rage. "Wow, and to think I'm the lucky devil who gets to do him in!"
They fell silent, now able to detect my sarcasm with no problem at all.
"That's right," Rob said in a small, deflated voice.
There was silence for a moment. "Okay," I said. "Let's hear your plan."
Rob sat on the edge of the desk, holding an open folder. "You penetrate Remi's defenses noon Friday in the guise of a Party inspector. We have all the papers and ID you'll need. The moment you two are alone, you kill him."
"Friday is the day after tomorrow. That doesn't leave much time to prepare."
"Your disappearance threw off our timetable," Rob said. "Remi expects the inspector Friday. Any delay will raise suspicion."
I nodded. "Okay, I can do it. Now what's the plan?"
Rob looked miffed. "I just told you the plan."
"No. I mean, what are the specifics?"
Rob looked at me as if I was drooling on the carpet. "What do you mean? That's it, that's the plan. We get you in and you kill him. What else do you need to know?"
I stared at them. "You two like to avoid the complexities of life, don't you? If he's as big a stickler for security as my information says, I'll be searched and scanned a dozen times before I get near him. What am I supposed to kill him with?"
Rob shrugged. "Whatever's available."
"Whatever's available? What, you mean like a stapler or his pen set? Am I supposed to goddamn paper cut him to death?"
"I don't know," Rob whined. "You're the professional killer, that's why you're getting paid so much. You figure it out."
"What about my escape? How am I supposed to get out once I kill him, for crissakes?"
"I don't know," Rob said. "The same way you got in."
"The guards might not let me. My killing Remi might excite them. And even if I got past them, how would I get off the roof?"
"The same skimmer that drops you off could pick you up," Marlene offered.
"Didn't you study your packet?" I said. "Get me a picture of the top of the tower."
Marlene went to a bureau and removed a manila folder. She leafed through it, then handed me an eight-by-ten blowup of Remi's rooftop.
I pointed at the surface of the landing pad next to a forest of antennaes and communication dishes. "See how the pad is made up of a pattern of one-foot squares instead of one solid surface?"
"Yes," Marlene said.
"Those are pressure plates. When a certain amount of unauthorized weight compresses a plate, something bad might happen. Like an explosion."
"The skimmer can hover above the roof and lower down a ladder," Marlene said.
I shook my head, pointing at a large cylindrical object atop of the elevator housing. "Guess what that is?"
"An exhaust fan of some sort?" Marlene guessed.
"On the roof of the elevator housing? No. It's a rocket turret, the same kind they mount on tanks. See the bulb on top of the pod? That's a radar antenna. The pod has a radar targeting system. Once it's activated, any craft that comes near the roof gets a rocket enema two seconds after detection. So," I said, leaning back, "how do I get out?"
They looked at each other, stumped. I asked them more hard questions, and they still couldn't produce any good answers.
"Tell you what," I said. "Since you seem so befuddled, I'll think up my own plan." I lit a vitacig. "But the price just went up."
Rob balked. "More? All you're doing is killing someone."
"I'm killing the vilest man alive, remember? I'm walking into what is, for all intents and purposes, a death trap. I expect to be paid well for it."
"How much do you want?" Marlene asked.
"One million creds."
They gasped and whined in chorus. "A million?"
"One hundred thousand of it up front."
"How do you expect us to raise that much on such short notice?" Marlene asked.
"Mortgage the town house," I suggested. "Sell some paintings. Tell Mom and Dad you found a limo you just can't live without. I'm sure you'll think of something."
"Can't you stop thinking about personal greed for a moment and think about the cause?" Marlene said, on the brink of tears.
I laughed meanly. "Where do you rich people get off saying crap like that?" I put on my jacket and headed for the door.
"I don't think we can pay that much," Marlene said flatly.
"Well, you have a good stable of killers. Maybe one of them will do it for less." I opened the door. "I'm registered at Dante's Inn on Colfax. You have until tomorrow morning to call. Or else."
"Or else what?" Rob snarled.
"Or I start my own revolution."
Rob followed me down the hall and confronted me on the porch.
"Afraid I was going to steal something?" I asked.
"Listen, asshole," he said in a low voice. "I never wanted you for this job. Marlene did. As far as I'm concerned, you're just another screw-up."
"Is that why you sent Bruce along? Why you tried to replace my driver with one of your killers?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Rob mumbled, averting his eyes. "If I wanted you dead, do you think you'd still be alive?"
I lit a vitacig and blew smoke in his face. "Yeah, you seem incompetent enough. Thanks for the pep talk."
I went into the night with my suspicions. One thing kept going through my head, something Marlene had said: It's not the means that matter, it's the end.
I put my collar up against the autumn wind, wondering which heading I fell under: the means or the end.
When I returned to the motel, Monique was standing on the balcony, smoking a cigarette. I leaned on the rail next to her. "Cold night."
She flicked an ash over the railing. "How'd it go?"
I shrugged. "They want me to assassinate Remi."
"When?"
"Friday."
"I thought you were supposed to be a revolutionary hero."
"That was just a lot of dressing. All they ever wanted was an assassin."
>
"Going to do it?"
"I'm going to try."
"Is the band going to help?"
I blew smoke at the moon. "No. It's a one-man job. There's no reason to risk their lives."
"They won't be happy with that. They've come to trust you."
"Well, that doesn't matter. The revolution comes first. I thought you'd be happy about keeping the band out of it."
"I am." She put her arm around me and leaned her head against my chest. "I'm worried about you. I had a bad dream last night."
"Yeah?"
"You got killed."
I looked down at her face. The moonlight gave a gothic cast to her perfect features. "How?"
"A man strangled you."
"What'd he look like?"
She frowned with thought. "He was big and wore dark clothes and a cape. I couldn't see his face, it could have been anybody."
"That's about right."
"After he strangled you, he threw you off a cliff into Hell."
"That sounds about right, too."
"You think you're going to Hell?"
I thought about what Babbit had told me. "I feel I may have sacrificed my mortal soul for the general good. I've come to accept that. My time in Hell will be justified."
She cast dark eyes at me. "You live in a different world than everyone else, Jake. You need to find your way back to reality."
"Reality is what makes me drink."
She nodded. "You going to tell the band?"
"Tomorrow. That's if my employers agree to my deal."
"Do you think they will?"
"I don't think they have any choice." I dropped the vitacig into the darkness. "I'm the only one competent and stupid enough to do it."
19
The phone rang. I fumbled in the darkness for the receiver.
"Hello?" I said, my voice rough with sleep.
"We'd like you to come over to the house," Marlene said. "Would you like me to send the car around?"
"I'll take a cab. What time is it?"
"Seven-thirty."
"I'll be there in half an hour."
She hung up.
Monique appeared in her doorway, wrapped in a nightgown. "Was it them?"
"Yes."
"You're going to kill Remi?"
"I'm going to try."
I left right away, so I was early. The bodyguard showed me to the study. Rob sat at the desk, and Marlene slouched in an armchair.