“Saying it doesn’t make it true.”
“The way you took that guy down was beautiful. You’re my champ, kid.”
“Yeah, and this whole deal still sucks, and you’d better not call me kid again,” she said.
NOT ONLY HAD the two visual screens inside Jack’s head gone on autopilot and red alert, they had also gone out of control. On one screen, Jack had watched the female deputy disarm, take down, and cuff a giant of a man without breaking a sweat, patronizing him while she did it. That was more than impressive. Six like her could probably wipe out the Taliban, he thought. In fact, he felt a stirring in his loins that made him uncomfortable, not unlike a wind blowing on a dead fire and fanning to life a couple of hot coals hiding among the ashes. Rid yourself of impure thoughts, he told himself. Do not be beguiled by a painted mouth at a time like this. In spite of his self-admonition, he could not completely take his eyes off the female deputy.
Conversely, on the other screen were images that continued to disturb and anger him, namely Eladio and Jaime trading glances whenever they thought he wasn’t looking, both of them as transparent as errant children, both of them armed with Uzis.
“Through the kitchen, boss?” Eladio said.
“No, we’re going in through the patio,” Jack said.
“The kitchen is wide-open, boss,” Eladio said. “The big man with a child’s face left it open.”
“No, the French doors take us into the dining room, then down the stairs to the cellar,” Jack said. “You two will go ahead of me.”
“That’s not your usual method, Señor Jack,” Eladio said. “You are always our leader. No weapon does damage like your Thompson loaded with a full drum. It is magnificent to behold.”
“We’re involved in a military action here. We’re splitting our forces and catching our enemy in a pincer movement,” Jack said. “You know what that is, don’t you?”
“No, what is it?” Eladio asked.
“The Germans learned it from Stonewall Jackson. They put their panzers on their flanks, just like Jackson put Jeb Stuart’s cavalry on his. You boys are family. You think Stonewall Jackson wouldn’t take care of his boys?”
“What is this about Germans and rock walls? This sounds like bullshit,” Jaime said.
“Come on, boys, let’s have some fun. While the sheriff and his deputy draw everybody into the cellar, we’re going to put hair on the walls.”
“The gringos are not to be trusted, Señor Jack,” Eladio said. “The old one dotes on his puta. She has a foul mouth and looks at us with contempt. When they get what they want, they will dispose of us.”
“The sheriff is a straight shooter. But that’s also his great weakness,” Jack said.
“He shoots straight? Shooting straight doesn’t have nozzing to do with this discussion. You speak in nozzing but riddles,” Jaime said.
“‘Nozzing’? Son, you obviously have a speech defect,” Jack said. “When we get back to the States, I’m going to take you to a speech therapist, and we’ll cure this problem once and for all. In the meantime, Eladio, could I see your cell phone?”
“What you want it for, boss?”
“To make sure we have service here. It’s always good to be prepared,” Jack replied.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THROUGH THE BARS in his cell, Krill could see the rain blowing on the fields and the side of the house, and the hills that looked like giant white caterpillars disappearing inside it. Mike stood in the middle of the room next to the Asian woman, who was still suspended from a rafter. Mike was opening and closing his hands, his wide-set eyes turned upward at the sound of feet overhead.
“I am sorry I caused you this trouble, hombre,” Krill said. “I have been a soldier in the service of others, just as you are. We take orders from little men who never have to kill or die in battle themselves.”
“You talk too much,” Mike said.
“Give the woman some water. She’s done nothing to deserve what has been done to her.”
Mike’s attention was fixed on the sound of boots moving back and forth on the floor upstairs, and he could not be distracted. His blond hair was long and oiled and hung in strings over the tops of his ears. His eyes were so widely spaced, they looked as though they had been removed from his face and stitched back in the wrong place. He was a man to whom the fates had not been kind, Krill thought.
“Give the woman some water, and I’ll give you back the spoon,” Krill said. “Then Frank will not be able to use you as his scapegoat any longer.”
“Where is it?” Mike asked.
“In the chemical toilet. Where else?”