Drawing Dead

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Drawing Dead Page 22

by Andrew Vachss


  “A message to Wanda as well?” Tracker asked.

  “I don’t think so. Can’t see where they’d do her any good even if she could read them. But she had to see them. How do I know?” said the man who led the most feared crew in a city of gangs. “Wanda wouldn’t have been with Blondie in the first place unless she was convinced that the Simbas were more than a myth or a legend. For all we know, she was never with the G—could have been pure freelance. Even Blondie could have been. ‘Private contractor’ is the right label for him—he was too superior to take orders, but he’d take jobs. Especially ones that challenged him. No better way to up your quote.”

  “Not Percy,” Tiger said.

  “No way,” Ace agreed. “You don’t get that kind of…loyalty, I guess you’d call it—not from somebody who’s there for the money.”

  “We work for money,” Buddha said, very quietly. “We take money to do jobs. We don’t fly a flag, we don’t salute. But…”

  “We’re mercenaries,” Cross finished. “But not the kind anyone’s used to. We’re not loyal to whoever pays us—we don’t feel anything for them, and we’d turn on them in a second if we saw a better score that way. But the difference between us and other mercs is loyalty. That’s loyalty to each other. No one’s seen it before, so no one’s ready for it when it shows.”

  “There’s plenty of tight units,” Buddha said. “Worked in a couple of them myself. Guys you could trust.”

  “So why did you quit?” Tiger said, archly.

  “When we ran across So Long…”

  “Somebody died,” Tiger said, her tone clearly communicating that she wasn’t speculating. “Maybe more than one. That ‘tight unit’ you were with, a couple of them had different ideas. Different from yours.”

  “They didn’t turn on me,” Buddha said, hollow-voiced. “I turned on them.”

  “They must’ve been bad people,” Princess said, forcefully.

  “So was I,” Buddha said. “This whole ‘loyalty’ thing, how far do you think it goes?”

  “It went far enough for you to put your body between gunfire and Princess,” Rhino said, so gravely that the squeak disappeared from his voice. “When Muñoz kidnapped him to get us to—”

  “That was…”

  When nobody finished his sentence for him, Buddha passed up the opportunity to finish it himself.

  THE BLACK-MASKED Akita had completed two full circles of the room, checking each individual like a bomb-detecting dog, before Cross spoke.

  “Rhino, you got to the end of that game?”

  “Yes. But even with getting past all the coding barriers, if I hadn’t known who designed it, I wouldn’t have.”

  “Meaning…”

  “Meaning, this game, a little guy in a plumber’s outfit is supposed to climb up this building structure. Actually, just the skeleton of one, like a kid’s Erector Set. He’s supposed to rescue this damsel-in-distress from a giant gorilla. For the actual game—Donkey Kong—there must be a way to win….Otherwise, it wouldn’t have lasted as long as it did. Like Pac-Man. It’s difficult, but you can win.

  “I couldn’t envision Wanda going to all that trouble just to construct what any gamer could win. So, instead of trying to work my way across the grid to reach the top, I spun through the options first. Wanda had added one of her own. A cutting torch. If you picked that up, you could topple the whole thing.”

  “That wouldn’t rescue the girl,” Tiger said.

  “The object wasn’t to rescue the girl,” Rhino told her. “Not the way Wanda put it together. The object was to bring it all down. When it crashed, the screen cleared, and there was a schematic displayed. You could follow every step. Step by step. It was the most complex branch-out I’ve ever seen.”

  “When would she have—?”

  “There is no way to tell,” Rhino answered Cross. “She could have been working on it for a long time, not activating it until she needed to.”

  “Activate what?” Buddha said, almost absently.

  “The whole chain,” the twice-normal-size man said. “She…she knows something about how it feels to be nothing. Like that man caged on the top floors of that house.”

  “She was in contact with him?”

  “She was in love with him,” Rhino said. “They were connected in a way only people like them could even understand.”

  “He was a psycho,” Buddha said, as if that covered everything.

  “They were all there. That thalidomide baby, Holtstraf and his two pals, Pekelo, Wanda…”

  “So…the back-channel site?”

  “Yes,” Rhino answered Cross. “Wanda and that imprisoned man, they found each other there. They put the rape-tape plan together, from the very beginning. They didn’t know Pekelo, but they knew someone would have enough information about you to try and win all that money.”

  “Pekelo did say it came from the Cloud….”

  “It wasn’t So Long’s fault,” Rhino assured Buddha. “Pekelo won only because he was first. Sooner or later, another scrap of information would float up. Pekelo knew about Ace’s house. Someone else might have followed Princess one night. Or maybe a woman from Orchid Blue…

  “It doesn’t matter. They—Wanda and that captured man—they knew, with that much money up for grabs, they couldn’t lose. They weren’t gambling. One way or the other, we would all die.

  “There’s no way to tell when that plan was hatched, but those two were communicating—online, I mean—they were communicating with each other for years. Remember that phone call? From Thalidomide Man to the two still left in that rape-tape thing? He couldn’t possibly have believed there was any safe harbor for him anywhere in the world. What he wanted was for them to take him to someplace where Wanda would be waiting. That was always the plan, for them to be together.

  “But Wanda was already on the run when we…finished that thalidomide man. That’s not your fault, either, Buddha. We could have questioned those two you shot for years—they couldn’t tell us what they never knew. Maybe they—Wanda and the man in that house, I’m saying—maybe they had some kind of emergency signal….”

  “So there never was any damn AI program?” Cross cut in. “When Wanda reached out and he wasn’t there, she checked the camera-feed he had installed. After that, it was Wanda running things. We’d killed her demented dream—her and Thalidomide Man, together for real. So what’s left for her except revenge?”

  “Yes,” Rhino said gravely. “If those two rapists had managed to pick up the man in that house, he would have directed them to where Wanda was hiding. After that, it would be just the two of them left. But we took the man she was waiting for…and by then she knew Percy was after her, too. Her and the blond man. They only stayed together because—”

  “Because Blondie had some skills Wanda didn’t,” Cross concluded. “If she’d managed to get together with that psycho who set this up with her, Blondie’d be on his own. Only question was when they’d remove him. And however they did it, he’d never see it coming.

  “But now, with her…I don’t know what to call whatever Wanda and Thalidomide Man had between them…she’s down to her last card,” Cross said.

  “Boss…”

  “What?”

  “Maybe she doesn’t have a last card. For all we know, Percy took them both out. Her and Blondie, I mean. We’d never know, would we? I mean, it’s not like he’s gonna report to us, right?”

  “Percy could not take Wanda,” Tracker said.

  Everyone went quiet until Rhino tuned to Tracker’s frequency. “You watched her. For a long time, at close quarters. The blond man wouldn’t have watched you. Nothing to do with trust. You were just as you said: A hired hand. A long-distance killer. Wanda was inside all her computers. Even Tiger couldn’t fully…distract her.

  “But this seems to be a circle, with each open end moving toward intersection. I believe you must be right about Wanda. No matter what, she would not place all her chips at risk. So, even if Percy were to find h
er—”

  “Damn!” Cross interrupted. “There’s that AI program we thought was running. It’d still work, just like we thought it could. But Thalidomide Man didn’t create it, Wanda did. So, if she doesn’t check in when she’s supposed to, the program’s going to activate again. The only question is, what will it do?”

  “I DON’T know, man.” The voice coming through the speaker of Ace’s relay belonged to the head of one of the West Side’s most feared gangs.

  “Easy, my brother. Just be calm. Tell me what happened; I’ll take it from there.”

  “We’re slow-walking to our ride. Just representing. Showing the flag, you know?”

  Ace said nothing—the equivalent of “Get on with it!”

  “This man—this white man—he steps out of the car. Looks like something out of one of those movies, you know, like a little group of white men drop into some African country, rescue the pretty bitch—a couple of hundred niggers have to die to make that happen, so what?

  “Anyway, before we get over, like, how this mofo get inside our car?—ain’t nobody crazy enough to do that, not with all the security we got around the spot—before we even see all the bodies scattered around, this guy, he says, ‘I got a message for Ace.’ Just like that. ‘I got a message for Ace. I only need one man to deliver it.’

  “We all got that message. All except for that fool Heavy. You know who I—?”

  “Just talk,” Ace said.

  “Heavy goes for his piece. The white man’s gun—I never seen one like it before—it makes this little noise, and Heavy’s double-dead. ‘You still got five left,’ this white man says, but we don’t say nothing. Then he says, ‘Tell Ace she’s still out there. Just her.’ And then he gets back in our car. Our car, man. He gets in and just drives away.

  “Nobody gonna bother that car. And we don’t even think about chasing it. You got white men on your payroll now? Look, whatever it’s all about, not our business, okay? We did what the man said to do, and—”

  Ace tapped a button and the connection went dead. He tapped another button; the hissing sound told him it would stay that way.

  “FIRE-TEAM positions,” Cross snapped over his shoulder, as the Shark Car rolled past the barricaded entrance to the Badlands and swirled to a full stop.

  “No spike, diamond. Buddha and Tiger triangle behind me. Tracker holds drag.”

  Cross headed for what he knew would be an opening in the tangle of barbed wire, chain link, rusting pieces of girders, and sharpened-edge rebar. He was first through, followed by Tiger to his right and Buddha to his left. Tracker was already roosting on top of the de-wheeled semi, his night scope scanning. Buddha’s pistol was out, but, like Tiger’s dagger, it was held loosely at his side.

  “How bad is it?” Condor’s voice, most of the teenage reediness gone; he was stepping into his new role.

  “We don’t know,” Cross said. “There’s only one hostile still in the field, but we don’t know what she knows. They knew where I lived—where I used to live—so they could have been mapping this place, too.”

  “She?” Condor said. A quick glance at Tiger instantly told him he was asking a stupid question.

  “Rhino and Princess are cyber-tracking,” Cross said. “Ace is working another field. If she hits this place, it won’t be the kind of assault you can stop with firepower. So, until this is over, you know what to do.”

  “Why didn’t you just—?”

  “I’m not saying this again,” the unremarkable-looking man said, no tonal change in his voice. “We don’t know what she knows. Remember when that…other stuff was going on, a while back? The G was collecting info on us, on all of us, before they made their move. None of that matters, not now. We don’t know what info she may have been trusted with. So we’re not using the airwaves—no phones, you got that?—not until this is over. She won’t be short of money, so, if she knows this place, she could pay some professionals to—”

  “Not in Chicago, she couldn’t. Nobody comes in here, not without you flashing us the green light.”

  “Condor, she wouldn’t be paying locals. Which is why we’re pretty sure we have some time. The way we came, it’s the only way an assault force could come without you spotting them. That’s why Tracker’s on top of the truck.

  “But this is an all-in game now. So you’re going to ground. You lead them down to that tunnel, and make sure they keep moving until they get to the first intersection. Just as if I told you there was going to be a flight of drones dropping heavyweight bang-stuff all over, understand? They wouldn’t need daylight to do that.”

  “Why can’t we all go to—?”

  “Red 71’s closed. So is the— So are a bunch of other places. You take your people where I said—not beyond that point. You can last an easy three, four weeks down there, you have to. If nothing lights up on the wall by then, send one of your people out to look around. If it looks okay to him—if he comes back and tells you that—it’s safe. For you, it’s safe, I’m saying. You might not see any of us again. But it’ll be over. You got that?”

  “Can’t I—?”

  “No. You have to be the boss now, Condor. You’re responsible for your whole crew, so you have to be sure. Test is: If you can’t be counted on, you can’t be counted in. If you have to keep checking behind you, then you can’t move fast enough.”

  “Sure. Like you always say. But this—”

  “This is a new game, kid. It may last a couple of days; it may be over for us…but not for your crew. There’s a half-million in cash down there. All in used twenties, fifties, and hundreds. Not funny money—real thing, no risk using it.

  “Okay, when you’re ready, have one of your people lead all the others down the left branch. Tell ’em something may be coming. That happens, you want to surprise them. Take this: it’s one of Buddha’s own pieces, better than perfect. A .357 mag. It’ll buck on you, so be careful if you use the heaviest stuff. Four fifty-round tins—two are .38s, two of that heavy stuff….This piece, it’ll take either kind.”

  “I don’t need no—”

  “Yeah, you do,” Cross said, the words coming out like rusted-from-exposure steel. “Not to shoot anyone—but to make sure everyone in your crew knows you can.

  “Now, listen: When you’re alone, use the keypad. Tap each key the number of times that’s on the key, understand? Tap the ‘7’ key seven times, like that. Then step back, quick. A big chunk of rock will roll out. The money’s in knapsacks. Just use what you need. But if you have to go on the move, remember you’ll need a few people to carry it all out. After that, you do what you have to do. Your people, they’ll follow you. Anyone you’re not sure of, you don’t take them into the tunnel. If it turns out you made a mistake, you leave your mistakes there, understand?

  “Remember, you never have to move the crew—your crew—out of this territory. It’s yours for as long as you can hold it. Just like we did. If we’re not around when you check, if you don’t hear from any of us, doesn’t mean we’re gone for good. But never look for us—you’ll run into some bad people that way. Same rules: they won’t come here; you don’t go there.”

  “I’ll handle it.”

  “I know,” Cross said.

  Ten minutes later, there was no trace of the Cross crew anywhere in the Badlands.

  TIGER STRUTTED spectacularly into the suite of rooms set up in the back of Orchid Blue.

  The rooms were windowless; air exchangers hummed too quietly for anyone to hear from the outside. The brick façade was backed by foam-filled cinder block.

  “That’s a lot of boys for this place,” the brunette at the entranceway said, half-smiling with her mouth and half-questioning with her eyes.

  “My entourage,” Tiger said. “I thought I’d get them all familiar with my place. You know, just in case.”

  The brunette didn’t know, but the sight of Rhino and Princess was enough to make her lose any interest. She caught Sweetie’s eye, heard the faintest of warning growls, and came to the o
nly decision possible. “I’ll just leave you all alone,” she said, as she got to her feet and walked out.

  “Don’t even,” Tiger warned Cross. “Yes, girls gossip. Tempo, she won’t say a word. She’s the bookkeeper. Sometimes I keep her back here. You follow me?”

  Cross nodded. Rhino took that for his cue and immediately began plugging in the hundred pounds of equipment Princess was handing over to him, piece by piece.

  THREE HOURS later, Cross took the third drag of his cigarette and ground it out in a heavy stoneware bowl.

  “We’re not gonna find her,” he said. “Not this way. And it’s only her that’s left. Percy is one bad bulldog, but he’s no bloodhound. Probably ask his bosses where to look—good damn luck with that. Ace has got his finger on the pulse and he’s gonna stay put…but no way she’s going back into the Wild West. Buddha’s slow-rolling, and we can call him in if there’s something for him to do—that’s why Tracker’s riding along.

  “Patience is a good weapon; we all know that. But, this time, we can’t wait. If Wanda’s got stuff ready to launch, it could hit anywhere. Wouldn’t get all of us, no matter what…but body counts aren’t the way to locate the enemy, not in this jungle.”

  “I’m not giving up,” Rhino squeaked. “Like you always say, Cross: being smart doesn’t mean you’re going to act smart.”

  “I know what makes people act stupid,” Tiger said. “No joke. There’s one sure way.”

  “I know! I know!” Princess thundered, raising his hand like a geeky kid in a classroom.

  Tiger put her hands on her hips. “You tell them, honey. Tell them what I taught you.”

 

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