Dan Simmons - Hard as Nails

Kurtz walked over and buzzed Gonzaga and his men up.

After the obligatory search of the office—Gonzaga's boys also turned up Arlene's empty Magnum holster—the bodyguards were shown out, the door was locked, the lights were turned low except for Kurtz's desklamp, and he told his story. Angelina remained sitting on Arlene's desk. Toma Gonzaga paced near the windows, occasionally pulling down a blind to peer out as Kurtz spoke. At first they each asked some questions, but then they just listened. Kurtz started with him and Rigby arriving in Neola, and wrapped it up with Sheriff Gerey showing him to the city limits.

When Kurtz was done, Gonzaga stepped away from the window. "This Major said that it was a war ?"

"Yeah," said Kurtz. "As if you've been exchanging casualties for months or years."

Gonzaga scowled at Angelina Farino Ferrara. "You know anything about that?"

"You know I don't. If I'd known that asshole existed, he'd need more than a wheelchair now. He'd be in a coffin."

Gonzaga turned back to Kurtz. "What was he talking about? Is he nuts?"

"I don't mink so," said Kurtz. "I think someone's playing two ends against the middle here."

"Who?" said Gonzaga and the woman at the same time.

Kurtz held up his empty hands. "Who the hell knows? If it's not one of you—and I don't see how it would benefit either one of you to play that game—then it's probably someone in the Major's camp."

"Trinh," said Angelina.

"Or the sheriff," said Gonzaga. "Gerey."

"The sheriffs already on the payroll," said Kurtz. "Hell, half the town is. I told you the little burg has a Mercedes and a Lexus dealership."

"Maybe the sheriff got greedy," said Angelina. "Or the Colonel."

Kurtz shrugged. "Either way, the Major's making his move tomorrow. You're supposed to be in the sheriff's office in Neola at high noon."

Gonzaga laughed softly and sat on the arm of the old sofa. "Does the Major think this is a fucking Western?"

Kurtz said nothing.

"They're going to kill us," Angelina said softly. "Us and anyone we bring down there with us."

"Well, sure," said Kurtz. "That goes without saying."

Gonzaga stood again. "Are you two nuts? Knock off the heads of two Families? Would this Major be so crazy to think that he could get away with that? Hell, you can't even hit a made man without the wrath of the Five Families coming down on you. How could he hope to hit…"

"Weren't you listening to Kurtz?" interrupted Angelina. "This Major and Colonel and the rest of them have some sort of juice. Federal." She looked at Kurtz. "You think it's FBI? Homeland Security?"

"It's been there for too long for Homeland Security," said Kurtz. "Goes back almost thirty years."

"CIA," said Gonzaga.

"That doesn't make any sense," said Angelina. "Why would the CIA run interference for a heroin ring? Even a pissant operation like this one."

"We don't know how pissant it is," said Gonzaga. "Western New York, North and Western Pennsylvania. Hell, maybe they're that network we keep hearing about in Ohio."

"Still…"

"Does it matter right now why the CIA or some other secret government agency's been keeping the Feds off them?" asked Kurtz. "Major O'Toole's and Colonel Trinh's network is spread all over the Mideast and Southeast Asia according to what Rigby King told me. During the Vietnam War, the Major set up a Triad to run drugs out of the Golden Triangle. Him for the U.S. connection… Colonel Trinh for the Vietnamese end… and some unknown Third Man, probably CIA, to provide transport and political cover. Who the hell knows what favors the Major's doing for who? Who cares? What you two have to decide… and soon… is what to do before tomorrow."

Gonzaga paced to the window, looked through the blind, and returned to sit on the sofa arm. Angelina ran a lacquered nail over her full lower lip, but didn't bite it.

"We can do nothing," said Gonzaga. "Wait Offer to negotiate—not in Neola. Hit them at a time of our choosing."

Angelina shook her head. "If we don't go tomorrow, the Major suggested, the war's on, Toma. You know that. They know that."

Gonzaga shrugged. "All right. Then the war's on. We fight it. We win it."

"And lose how many more dealers and junkies and button men?" said Kurtz. "You prepared for a long war? The Major is. And don't forget that new term we've all learned— decapitation strike ."

"What are you talking about?" said Angelina.

"I'm talking about that hit that took place right out there less man twenty-four hours ago." Kurtz jerked his thumb toward the windows, the street beyond. "I don't think whoever took out your two top bodyguards was after them. I think he was after you."

"You're guessing."

"Sure," said Kurtz. "But I think I'm right. You want to bet your life that I'm wrong?"

"We'll bring in more people from New York and New Jersey," Gonzaga said softly, as if speaking to himself. He stood suddenly and looked at Angelina. "Why are we discussing tactics in front of him?"

Angelina smiled. "Because 'him' is the one who found out what's going on after we've been fucking around in the dark for months. And I think 'him' has a plan, don't you, Joe?"

Kurtz nodded.

"Who pays for this 'plan'?" said Toma Gonzaga.

"You do," said Kurtz. "And the price is seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

Gonzaga laughed, but the noise carried no hint of amusement. "To you, naturally."

"Not a cent to me," said Kurtz. "Not even the hundred thousand you offered me if I found this perp—which I have, by the way. It just happens to be a small army of perps."

"Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars is insane," said Gonzaga. "Out of the question."

"Is it, Toma?" Angelina crossed her arms. "You're talking about a long war. You're talking about disrupting all our business for weeks or months. You're talking about having to buy off cops and maybe media to keep it quiet, and about bringing in more manpower from New York and New Jersey— that'll certainly make the Five Families happy. And do we want Carmine and the others thinking we can't run our own shop out here?"

Gonzaga put his palms flat on Arlene's desk and leaned toward Angelina Farino Ferrara. "Three quarters of a million dollars?" he whispered.

"We haven't heard Joe's plan yet. Maybe it's brilliant."

"Maybe it's fucked," said Gonzaga.

"We won't know if we don't hear it. Joe?"

Speaking slowly and calmly, checking his watch only once, Kurtz told them the plan. When he was finished he stood, walked to the small refrigerator next to the sofa, and took out a bottle of water. "Anyone want one?" he said.

Gonzaga and Angelina only stared at him.

The male don spoke first. "You can't fucking be serious."

Kurtz said nothing.

"He is fucking serious," Angelina said softly. "Christ."

" Tonight ?" said Gonzaga, pronouncing each syllable as if he'd never beard the word before.

"It would have to be, wouldn't it?" said Angelina. "Kurtz is right And we don't have much time to decide."

Kurtz looked at his watch again. "You have less than a minute to decide."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" snarled Toma Gonzaga.

The downstairs buzzer made its raucous noise.

The conference with Baby Doc Skrzypczyk—whose two men searched longer, harder, and more thoroughly than either Gonzaga's or Angelina's had—lasted longer than Kurtz had imagined it would. There were a lot of details. Evidently Gonzaga and Farino Ferrara wanted their money's worth in exchange for a mere three-quarters of a million dollars.

No one shook hands when Baby Doc's bodyguards left. No one spoke. Kurtz made no introductions. He doubted if the three had ever met, but they knew enough about each other. The powerfully built Lackawanna boss simply took off his expensive, camel-hair topcoat, hung it on the coat-rack, sat on the sprung couch, looked at Toma Gonzaga and Angelina Farino Ferrara, and said, "Have you decided that it's worth the money to you? Time's wasting here either way."