The Clause

by Brian Wiprud

  That was the guy I was up against. No doubt this douchebag had a boss, but this was the one who was trying to put the hooks in me, the brain that would be trying to angle my next twist. The rest of these guys—while no doubt viscous deviants—were just soldiers. By the looks of things, my adversary didn’t seem to have a second in command.

  After a few moments inside, he stomped back outside holding the colorful shirt I’d worn the night before, the one from under the SUV’s back seat. He had it to his nose, smelling me. I’d never seen somebody do that—it was a little freaky.

  He took the shirt from his nose, cocked his head, and turned his dark eyes in my direction. Even from there I could see the eyes were black and flat like a shark’s. It was like he knew I was there watching, like he could smell me on the breeze. I slunk back away from the edge of the embankment. He was no dummy; my adversary knew I might be watching, and where else but from the top of the ravine? If he took the bait that Trudy was alive, he might have even imagined that both of us had narrowly escaped somehow when we caught a glimpse of his goons’ approach.

  I knew not to push my luck and take another look. This creep was smelling my shirt.

  I jogged south along the twisty roads dotted with bungalows tucked in the forest. At the river’s edge there was a path, and I took it south, the saddle bag of sparks bouncing on my shoulder. The path brought me to a concrete wall that was the edge of a raised parking lot for an apartment complex. I climbed the rope I’d left there, unhooked it from the parapet, and rolled over the parapet into the parking lot. There was a pattern of decorative holes in the wall, and I watched for a few minutes to see if I was followed. Why? To see if they followed me, tracked me, known that I was watching them, that I was alone, and not with Trudy. It’s important to know what your enemy knows, and more importantly only let him know what you want him to know. I wanted the Kurac to continue believing I was trying to keep her alive and running for my life. I wanted them to think I was weak.

  They didn’t show.

  I trotted over to the Nighthawk, fired her up, and curved out of the parking lot. My path lay north, up River Road and past the street where the barn was.

  I didn’t dare turn my head that direction as I passed. What if that shitbag was standing there smelling my shirt, waiting for me?

  Stomach in knots, I throttled the bike across the George Washington Bridge, the sky laced with steel cables and the huge span stabbing over the river at the heart of Washington Heights in Upper Manhattan. The sun was high and bright over the glistening Hudson River, on which sailboats, tugs, and barges sliced the water.

  I let myself wonder what I’d do if they caught up with me.

  I had to plan for that, too.

  THUS WE MAY KNOW THAT THERE ARE FIVE ESSENTIALS FOR VICTORY:

  1. HE WILL WIN WHO KNOWS WHEN TO FIGHT AND WHEN NOT TO FIGHT.

  2. HE WILL WIN WHO KNOWS HOW TO MANIPULATE SUPERIOR AND INFERIOR FORCES.

  3. HE WILL WIN WHOSE ARMY IS ANIMATED BY A COMMON PURPOSE.

  4. HE WILL WIN WHO WAITS TO ENGAGE THE ENEMY UNPREPARED.

  5. HE WILL WIN WHO HAS MILITARY CAPACITY.

  THUS THE SAYING: IF YOU KNOW YOUR ENEMY AND KNOW YOURSELF, THERE IS NO FEAR OF A HUNDRED BATTLES BETWEEN YOU. IF YOU KNOW YOURSELF BUT NOT THE ENEMY, FOR EVERY VICTORY, YOU SHALL SUFFER A LOSS. IF YOU KNOW NEITHER YOUR ENEMY NOR YOURSELF, YOU WILL LOSE ALL BATTLES.

  —Sun Tzu, The Art of War

  Ten

  DCSNet 6000 Warrant Database

  Transcript Cell Phone Track and Trace

  Peerless IP Network / Redhook Translation

  Target: Dragan Spikic

  Date: Sunday, August 8, 2010

  Time: 1101–1106 EDT

  SPIKIC: TALK TO ME.

  VUGOVIC: WE DID NOT GET HIM.

  SPIKIC: GO BACK TO YOUR MOTHER’S CUNT, VUGO! HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?

  VUGOVIC: EVERYTHING WENT AS PLANNED ON OUR END. WE TRACKED THE PHONE TO A BARN OFF THE MAIN ROAD. THE VET GOT THE CALL TO COME, EVEN AS MY MEN WERE MOVING IN ON THE BARN. IT SEEMS UNDERWOOD TOOK THE GIRL AND LEFT JUST BEFORE WE GOT THERE, SOMEHOW. I DON’T UNDERSTAND. AN SUV WAS THERE, BLOODY BANDAGES, HER CELL PHONE, THE CLOTHES HE WORE IN THE ROBBERY, EVERYTHING. JUST NOT THEM.

  SPIKIC: YOU’VE BEEN UP YOUR ASS AND KNOW SHIT! YOU HAD BETTER ‘UNDERSTAND’ VERY QUICKLY, MY FRIEND.

  VUGOVIC: WE ARE WORKING ON THE HOUSE AT THE BEACH, AND HIS APARTMENT CONTAINED SOME INTERESTING DETAILS. IT SEEMS HE WAS MILITARY. NAVY.

  SPIKIC: SO WHAT DOES THAT TELL YOU? HE HAS A BOAT?

  VUGOVIC: DISCHARGE PAPERS SAY HE WAS A LIEUTENANT. AND THERE WAS ACCOMMODATION FOR BEING WOUNDED. IT MAKES ME WONDER ABOUT UNDERWOOD. I FEEL OUR QUARRY MAY BE MORE FOX THAN DOVE.

  SPIKIC: PARENTS, FIND HIS PARENTS OR FRIENDS AND TRUSS THEM UP LIKE GAME BIRDS. THAT WILL FLUSH HIM OUT OF HIS MOTHER’S ASS.

  VUGOVIC: THERE WAS NO ADDRESS BOOK, NO LETTERS. THIS MAN HAD VERY LITTLE IN HIS PLACE OTHER THAN EXERCISE EQUIPMENT, A TV, CLOTHES—IT WAS LIKE A MOTEL ROOM, LIKE HE EXPECTED TO LEAVE ANY DAY. YET HIS LANDLADY TOLD US HE HAD BEEN THERE FOR FIVE YEARS.

  SPIKIC: WHAT OF THE CUNT?

  VUGOVIC: HER PLACE WAS THE SAME. AND SHE, TOO, WAS MILITARY, A NAVY DIVER.

  SPIKIC: A DIVER? MAY GOD FUCK YOU IN THE EYES, VUGO, WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

  VUGOVIC: A NAVY DIVER IS SOMETHING LIKE SPECIAL FORCES. THEY BOTH WERE EX-MILITARY, SO TO MY THINKING THEY WERE USED TO LIVING THE MILITARY LIFESTYLE OF VERY FEW POSSESSIONS, MOBILITY. THIS COULD BE MORE DIFFICULT THAN WE BARGAINED FOR. THESE ARE SOLDIERS.

  SPIKIC: THEY ARE NAVY AND THEIR CUNTS CAN’T HOLD WATER! IF YOU CAN’T FUCK THEIR MOTHERS ON THEIR FATHERS’ GRAVE YOU ARE NO BETTER, AND GOD WILL FUCK YOU AND MAKE YOU HIS SPITTOON! FIND THEM! YOU WERE A SOLDIER, AND YOU ARE A SOLDIER! WOLVES EAT WOLVES! FIND THEM!

  *END*

  Eleven

  It was two that afternoon by the time I wedged my bike into a legal space on Main Street in Flushing. It was my third stop, at East Trading Jewelers in Flushing, Queens. On a Sunday afternoon, the Chinatown thoroughfare was jostling with Asians of every stripe on errands. Trudy and I used to have some incredible meals here after seeing Doc Huang. I could never remember what it was called—Spicy and Tasty? Tasty and Spicy? The place had the most incredible string beans with minced pork. Never much of a string bean fan, either of us, and this was our favorite dish, along with the sesame dan-dan noodles. Both of which were good dishes for Trudy to learn how to use chopsticks. I’d never have a chance to eat there again.

  Yet my plans had to include making sure I kept my energy up. At a food cart I grabbed a twenty-ounce cola.

  Sipping sugar and caffeine, I pushed into East Trading Jewelers, the display cases glowing with gold, the walls festooned with pictures of wedding rings and moist brides.

  “I help you today?” A plump Chinese girl with too much eye shadow was behind the counter. She was squeezed into one of those silk sheath dresses.

  “Doc Huang is expecting me.”

  “Yes, please, this way.”

  I followed her wiggle through some back curtains past a small lunch room and bathroom to an office door with a Chinese good-luck emblem tacked on it. She rapped a knuckle on the door.

  “Come!”

  She closed the door behind me as I stepped into Doc Huang’s lair, the walls lined with locking cabinets above low tables fitted with lamps and magnifiers. Fluorescents under the cabinets ringed the room with light. In the middle of the room was yet another table with a lamp and a magnifier and a plump Chinese woman in a pink pantsuit: Doc. She had taken off her magnifying goggles and held them with one hand. In the other she held a wedding ring with a modest brilliant-cut stone that flickered under her lamp.

  She tilted her big head at the ring. “This stone is crap. My cousin wants a thousand for it, and
my family will be pissed if I don’t give him the thousand. What would you do?”

  “I wouldn’t give him the thousand. I’d tell him all the reasons why: the muddy color, the uneven faceting. I’d tell him I was doing him a favor by giving him five hundred and that if he accepted the money, it was on condition he told the family he got the thousand. If I’m going to take grief from the family, I might as well take it for giving him nothing at all.”

  Doc laughed softly, her chest heaving, and set the goggles and ring down. “Thanks, Gill, I like that answer—how are you?” She extended a hand, and I shook it.

  “Fine.”

  “That’s not what I hear from friends in Fort Lee.”

  There’s a solid Asian contingent just across the GW Bridge. I had wondered if she’d call people there and check up on the latest news.

  I tensed, my saddle bag feeling heavy on my shoulder. Teddy and Steve hadn’t picked up the news. Then again, they were more or less straight businessmen. Doc was a little more connected.

  She waved a hand at a rattan chair opposite her. “Don’t worry, Gill, I haven’t fingered you. The Kurac are no friends to the Asian community; they think we’re all subhumans. I guess the Cubans haven’t figured that they are subhumans, too, or maybe they wouldn’t have flipped on you. I heard a Cuban squealed on you. Its people like the Kurac who make me question how there could possibly be a merciful God. Because I know your situation means I would be foolish to pay top dollar. For the Fifth Avenue sparks.”

  I eased into the chair, wanting very badly to light up a Winston.

  She continued, gesturing to my saddle bag.

  “I understand you have some very special sparks in there. The Britany-Swindol sparks.”

  “Not on me.”

  “Hm.” Doc leaned back in her chair, away from the light, just a silhouette with sparkling eyes. “What say we forget about the Fifth Avenue junk? You might as well take that wherever you’re going. You can sell that as easily here as in Sweden. Did you have plans for the big stones?”

  “Not yet. I’ve had a lot on my mind. That’s too tricky for me even to think about.”

  “You may not have been thinking about it, but I have.”

  I guzzled some of my cola and then skipped ahead a few questions. “How would you unload them? Israel?”

  She shook her head. “China, dummy. The conversion rate is quite favorable for them at this time.”

  “I’m a reasonable person, Doc, you know that. But I’m not going to be a pushover. There’s going to have to be serious money.” I stood. “This has got to be my ticket out. I’ll stash it for a rainy day if I have to.”

  “Relax. Sit.”

  “I can’t relax, Doc, you know that, there is no relaxing for me. For all I know those bastards are right outside. My brain is moving in eight directions at once trying to stay ahead of them, trying to keep them from putting my hands in meat grinders.”

  “It’s not your hands you should be worried about.” She sighed. “Why would I even be discussing this opportunity if I had the Kurac in the wings? C’mon, Gill. I can help you. And Trudy. How is she?”

  “Not great.”

  Doc bowed her head. “She seen a cat doctor?”

  “I tried, but it was a setup.”

  “Damn those Cubans. Look, I can give you the name of a Chinese herbalist. He’s right around the corner. I can call and ask him to fix you up with something. That stuff they do really does work.”

  “What makes you think I can trust him?”

  “I’ll dial, you listen until the herbalist answers, okay? That way you’ll know it isn’t the Kurac.”

  I thought about it a moment.

  “What’s this going to cost me?”

  Doc leaned into the light, her eyes in deep shadows from the lamp, her smile slight.

  “I want you to trust me. Let me broker the Britany-Swindol sparks to Hong Kong.”

  “Since you know my situation, you can use that to squeeze me.”

  “I could. But you know what?”

  I raised an eyebrow, waiting.

  “Gill, I despise those fuckers with every fiber of my being. I want you to get away with this. Yes, I want to make money.”

  “What happens when the Kurac find out you had a hand in taking their gems? They will.”

  Doc cocked her head. “The Corporation may fear the Kurac, and the Russians may be their friends. My friends from Hong Kong neither fear nor befriend these bastards. In fact, some of them would welcome the opportunity to confront them. Gill, I’m giving you and Trudy a path out. You let me broker the Britany-Swindol take to Hong Kong, and we’ll take care of these Kurac for you, too.”

  “Sounds like your people want this as much to entrap the Serbs as anything else. I know the Hong Kong friends are probably still pissed about the smash-and-grab operation the Kurac pulled in Macau.”

  “Yes, that was my friends’ store, the one they used to move their merchandise. You see? You have done to the Kurac what the Kurac did to my friends in Hong Kong, and so they want to complete that payback by taking possessions of the sparks. They will get you and Trudy out of the country, complete with paper. And pay you for the gems, less my fee, of course. Gill, look at me, what more could you ask for?”

  I kept my eyes on the far wall, and finished my soda. “I won’t feel comfortable unless we do this in stages, Doc. I know you may mean well, but I don’t know your friends. Nobody in the business can really vouch for people like that. They’re takers, not givers. I’ll first need the paper, as a gesture that they mean what they say. With plane tickets to Iceland for tomorrow night in the names on the paper. And I’ll need that tonight.”

  “Passports by tonight?” Doc leaned back again with a groan. “Iceland?”

  “Well, Doc, just how long am I supposed to dance before I get tripped up? I have to sleep eventually, but with these Serbian dirtbags on my case I don’t see that happening. I don’t see me staying in one place more than an hour. Yes, I need to see those tonight, and we’ll do the exchange tomorrow afternoon.”

  “What about photos?”

  “There’s a passport-photo guy down the street—I’ll drop over and be right back.” I slid my saddle bag off my shoulder, and fished around inside. “Here’s Trudy’s passport photo.” I handed it over as Doc picked up the phone and dialed. “Make our names Mike and Marcia Thomas.”

  “I will still have to check with Hong Kong.”

  I pulled a wad of tissue from the knapsack and laid it on the desk in front of her.

  “They’re going to make a good faith gesture, now I’m making a good faith gesture.”

  Doc spoke rapidly into the phone and hung up. Leaning over the paper, she unfolded it with one hand while lowering the magnifying lamp with the other. Diamonds flashed as she flattened the paper—it was a pair of Britany-Swindol crossover drop pendants, fully encrusted in sparks. Retail? Probably mid-twenties.

  “Doc, you check that against the hot sheets, you’ll see it was from the Macau operation pulled by the Kurac. This way your friends in Hong Kong will know I’ve got the assets, safe and sound. I’ll need the Mike and Marcia paper and Iceland tickets delivered. Call the number I called you from and leave a message when they’re ready. I’ll call back with the drop-off instructions.”

  Doc finally lifted her eyes from the earrings to me, and smirked. “You know, Gill, I hope you pull this off, I really do. Have you ever heard of yuanfen?”

  I shook my head.

  “Yuanfen is the ancient Chinese idea that two people are destined to meet.”

  “Like lovers?”

  Doc pursed her lips. “Sort of. It includes repeated chance meetings of strangers and any big, life-altering joining of two people. I think you and I have yuanfen. This deal is huge, and because we met and are friends
, you and Trudy will get safely out of the country and out of the business. This is no life for people in love.”

  “So this mess is all the work of fate? I wish it were that easy, that there aren’t responsible parties. It would make it easier. So where’s this herbalist?”

  “The herbalist is on Union Street, around the corner. Mr. Zim. Make Trudy well. We’ll make this work with the Hong Kong people, one way or the other.”

  I attempted a smile.

  “Odds are on the other.”

  Twelve

  DCSNet 6000 Warrant Database

  Transcript Cell Phone Track and Trace

  Peerless IP Network / Redhook Translation

  Target: Tito Raykovic

  Date: Sunday, August 8, 2010

  Time: 1405–1408 EDT

  TITO: IDI?

  IDI: YES, HOW ARE YOU, DEAR?

  TITO: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? MY GOD, I WAS WORRIED.

  IDI: SPIKIC WANTED TO SEE ME.

  TITO: [UNINTELLIGIBLE]

  IDI: OF COURSE, ABOUT THE ROBBERY.

  TITO: FUCK A RODENT! WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM? WHY DID HE NOT ASK ME?

  IDI: YOU HAVE PANTS FULL OF CRAP, TITO, YOUR COCK FOLDED IN TWO. IMAGINE IF YOU HAD SPOKEN WITH HIM? HE WOULD SEE YOUR PANIC AND ASSUME YOU ARE GUILTY.

  TITO: IS IT WRONG TO WORRY? NO, IT IS RIGHT THAT I WORRY. GRAVEDIGGERS LICK SPIKIC’S TESTICLES. IF HE BLAMES US, HE WILL KILL US.

  IDI: THANKS TO ME HE DOES NOT BLAME US.

  TITO: HE DIDN’T TOUCH YOU, DID HE?

  IDI: AND WHAT IF HE DID? WHAT WOULD YOU DO ABOUT IT?

  TITO: TELL ME!

  IDI: WHY SHOULD I TELL YOU ANYTHING, YOU FAT LITTLE LIZARD? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN WHILE I WAS PUTTING THINGS RIGHT WITH SPIKIC? CURLED UP IN A BOTTLE, I HAVE LITTLE DOUBT. YOU WERE THE ONE WHO HELD THEIR COCKS. YOU NEVER SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN IN BUSINESS WITH THESE CRIMINALS TO BEGIN WITH.