Tim Dorsey - Gator A-GO-GO

“Thank you, Madre.”

THE PRESENT

A ’73 Challenger raced up the strip.

Serge reached into a small drugstore shopping bag.

“Smelling salts?” asked Coleman.

“Explain later.” Serge removed a greeting card from the same bag. “Right now I must depend on your particular talents. Nearest liquor store?”

“Three hundred yards. Left one block, then right, north side of the street.”

He hit the gas.

“But, Serge, you don’t drink.”

The Challenger hung a hard left. “It’s not for me. It’s for one of Guillermo’s goons.”

“You’re buying one of his goons a drink?”

A skidding right turn. “Several.”

They dashed into the store. “Coleman, time’s of essence. Your expertise again-liquor store layout. Where’s the…”

Coleman quickly guided Serge to respective products on his mental list. They ran for the cash register with arms full of bottles.

Minutes later, the Challenger patched out of the parking lot.

“What’s the big rush?” asked Coleman.

“Pedro just made the TV news.”

“And?”

“So up to now we’ve had the advantage of them not knowing what we know. But as soon as Guillermo sees the news, he’ll realize they’ve been made. We already might be too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“Before they have a chance to clear out, I’d like to thin the herd a little more and improve our odds.”

“How does all that liquor fit in?”

“It has to be a quick strike. I wanted to set up a series of levers, gears, bowling balls and axes on roller skates, but this is no time for fun. Had to think up something quick-that also works quick. Unfortunately, my plan leaves us trapped without escape from Guillermo’s murderous retaliation.”

“I usually prefer a way out of that.”

“Most people do, which is why I added liquor to the Master Plan’s cocktail. It simultaneously accomplishes both objectives: taking out the target and creating an escape clause.”

“How does it do that?”

“Through a potent mix of French cuisine and The Simpsons. ”

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO

Twenty people with latex gloves walked extra slow, performing a grid search in the dirt and weeds around the charred carcass of a Mercedes.

Just another day in the Everglades.

“Looks like he picked up the shell casings.”

“Obviously knows what he’s doing. I’m guessing those windows weren’t originally rolled down in this heat.”

A cell phone rang.

“Ramirez here.”

“What the hell’s going on?”

“Calm down.” The agent walked to the side of the clearing for privacy. “Is the encryption box switched on?”

“How can you tell me to calm down at a time like this?” Patrick McKenna paced in front of the TV set in his Battle Creek living room with snowflakes on windowsills. “Have you seen the news? Prosecutor says they have to drop all charges.”

“The encryption box!”

“It’s on! Jesus!” McKenna paced the other way, past a televised press conference in the Miami sunshine. “You told me it was a done deal. They’d all go away for a long time.”

“Immunity’s still intact.” Ramirez paced behind a burnt-up car and wiped stinging sweat from his eyes. “This doesn’t change anything with your family.”

“One of the dead guys in the Everglades was your other witness, wasn’t he?”

No answer.

“Oh, my God! What am I going to do?” Children across the street stuck the carrot nose in a snowman. “… They’re going to find us, I just know it.”

“Listen very carefully. Nobody’s going to find anyone. You have my word.”

“I’ll bet your other witness had your word.”

“It was completely different with him.”

“Right, he’s dead.”

“No, I mean he wasn’t only a witness. He was a top member of their organization.”

“What’d you do, promise him the same sweet deal as me?”

“I had leverage. Caught him on his yacht, but that’s all I can say except we offered him life without parole or work with us.”

“I’m only a flight instructor. I wasn’t made for this.”

“Just hang in there.”

THE DUNES, ROOM 24

Raul peeked out the curtains for the hundredth time. “What could have happened to Pedro?”

Miguel joined him at the window. “And when are those kids ever going to come back?”

“They’re not,” said Guillermo.

“How do you know?”

Guillermo watched TV. Live aerial footage from a helicopter hovering over the roof of a nearby motel, where cops clustered around a sheet-covered body. “We just found Pedro.”

Outside, Serge and Coleman ran up the concrete stairs and into room 25.

“Where the fuck have you been?” said Country.

“Booze run,” said Coleman, lining bottles on the counter.

“You left us bored in here while you were out having fun?”

“It’s not like that,” said Serge. “I’m working.”

“Doesn’t look like you’re working.”

“Trust me.” Serge uncapped bottles. “You won’t be bored for long.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Now’s not the time to argue. We still have a tiny advantage.”

“What are you, playing fort again?”

“Guillermo knows the kids were in room 24 from the class ring in the mail slot…”-uncapping more bottles-“… But like I told you before, he doesn’t know we also have this room-not yet. And when he does…“ Serge tossed his keys to City.”I parked the car in front of the convenience store at the end of this block. Wait for us there.”

“Another place to wait? And this time in the heat? Fuck that!”

“Please.” Serge pulled pliers from his pocket. “I’m thinking of your safety. And I’m taking a wild guess this will draw the cops.”

“Come on, Country.” City sneered at Serge as they headed for the door. “You owe us big-time.”

“Will you hurry?” Serge opened the rest of the bottles.

Other side of the wall: “How does that mean the kids aren’t coming back?” asked Miguel.

“I’ll speak slowly for you.” Guillermo grabbed his keys. “We’ve been identified. Apparently those kids aren’t as harmless as we’d thought.”

“Maybe they had help,” said Raul.

“Gee, you think?”

Guillermo went to the curtains for his own parking lot assessment.

“What do we do now?” asked Miguel.

“Clear out,” said Guillermo. “Who knows who’s involved? Maybe Andy’s not even here. We don’t know what he looks like. The feds could be using young undercovers as bait.”

“That class ring was kind of easy. You sure we can trust our inside guy?”

“Don’t talk anymore.” Guillermo grabbed the door handle. “I’ll get the car. Miguel, you do a final walk-around of the hotel for anything out of place. Raul, wipe the room for prints and meet us.”

Two men left and slammed the door. Raul grabbed a bath towel.

Room 25: Serge heard the door slam in the next room and peeked out the curtains. Guillermo and Raul trotted down the steps. They split up, Guillermo climbing into a Delta 88. Serge closed the curtains. “Excellent. We’re not late after all. And if Pedro’s count was correct, that leaves one.”

Serge ran for the bathroom.

Coleman strolled at a less purposeful pace. He looked down and saw legs across the floor.

“Serge, what are you doing under the toilet?” Serge adjusted pliers. “Killing the pressure feed. I need a dry tank and bowl.”

“Is this the Simpsons part?”

A twist on the pipe valve. “Just flush that, will you?”

Coleman hit the lever.