Chapter Five
James
“Quit that. You’re driving me nuts.”
“What?” I ask as I chew on my thumbnail, wishing I could have a smoke. I ran out forty miles ago and there were no stops on the highway. And now that we’re in Cheyenne, I’m nervous as all hell.
“Just stop for cigarettes, for Pete’s sake. I’m the one who should be nervous. This is my home, not yours.”
I look at her as we stop at the red light. “Why would you be nervous?”
“Well.” She looks out the window. “We’re going to the Roundhouse, right?”
That’s the name of the antique mall her dad sold Company guns out of. “Yeah. You expecting something important to be there, Smurf?”
Because I am. And that’s what’s got me nervous.
“Not exactly.”
I don’t know what that means, but a horn honks behind me and I look up to find the light has turned green. I ease forward and then take the first right past the railroad tracks. The old-timey train station is on the right side of this road and on the left are historical warehouse buildings that have been re-purposed into antique stores.
The Roundhouse is massive and it’s on a corner one street up.
Sasha lets out a deep breath.
Fuck. I hope to hell this is not a mistake. I pull the truck around the back of the building and park next to a giant green dumpster and cut the engine.
“Well,” I say as we sit in silence for a moment. “Ready to go inside?”
I turn my head to look at her and she’s got wide eyes. “Do I need to be ready for something?”
“You tell me.”
“Have you been in here before?”
I shake my head at her. “Never. Never been to this town before, I told you that.”
“I wasn’t sure if that was true or not. It’s seems unlikely that you never stopped by here for something.”
“This depot isn’t that old, Sasha. The gunrunner for the western guys used to be in Arizona.”
“Oh.” She nods and takes a deep breath. “That makes sense, I guess. We used to live out of the RV and just sell at gun shows.”
We open our doors at the same time and get out of the truck. I point to the back door and we head that direction. When we get there I hurry a little to open it for her and she scoots inside without another word.
Please, I pray, don’t let this be a mistake.
We enter into a back room and I have no idea where I’m going. Merc just said to park in back and go through the door.
I don’t need to worry. The Smurf leads the way. There’s aisle after aisle of tall industrial-sized shelving like you see in a big box store, but Sasha goes up two aisles, walks down one until we get to an intersection, and then makes a left. At the end of this aisle is another door. “Where we going?” I ask her as she heads for the door.
“My dad’s booth,” she says, cool as they come.
Of course. Whenever I come to the Roundhouse to meet mercenaries, I always hit the dead father’s booth first.
The door has a lock with one of those silver punch pads above the knob. Sasha punches in a code and sure enough, it opens.
I follow her through and we are in another storeroom. Only this one is filled with weapons.
I hear the tell-tale cock of a shotgun and I’ve got my Five-SeveN out and pointing at Merc’s face before he can laugh.
“You dumbfuck.” He puts his hands up and starts waving the gun around like an idiot. “Don’t shoot me, bro! Don’t shoot me, bro!”
I walk over and grab the gun from his hands. “It’s don’t taze me, you idiot. Not shoot me.”
“Whatever,” he says, taking out a smoke and handing me one. “Same shit.” He pulls out a light and offers it to me. I suck on the cancer stick and let the nic run through my veins. Jesus. Never has a cigarette felt so good.
Merc lights his up too and then takes his own drag of relief. “So, what the fuck?” He’s laughing and puffing at the same time. “You still have this runt with you? Jesus. You have more patience than me.”
Sasha kicks him in the shin. “Asshole.”
Merc bends over and rubs his leg like it hurts and then grabs Sasha by the waist, hoists her over his head, and he’s about to body-slam her on a stack of boxes when I start to freak out.
“Dude!” I yell. “Do not fuck with my Smurf.”
He flips her over, ignoring her screams, and then plops her down on the ground feet first.
“I’m kidding, you assholes. Jesus Christ. Lighten up. I’m the only one with a sense of humor here.”
“OK, what’s the plan?” I’m ready to get this show on the road.
“We’re still waiting. Shouldn’t be too long though.”
“Then what?”
“Then”—he shrugs—“we play it by ear, I guess.”
“Do you have the file or what?” Sasha barks from a safe distance.
“What file?” I ask, looking at her, then back to Merc. They stare each other down. “What. Fucking. File?”
Merc points his cigarette at Sasha. “I told you to keep your fucking mouth shut about that file.”
“I have,” she sneers back. “But I’m with him now,” she says, pointing to me. “And I want him to know about it. So my silence is over.” She pauses for a beat. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Damn. Assassin Smurf is back. I love Assassin Smurf. “What fucking file?” I ask again while Merc decides if he has a problem with that. Because of course, even if he did, it’s too late now. Sasha has let me in.
Finally. After carting her midget ass all over the Wild West, I’m in.
Merc lets out a long breath and then does the little this-is-only-between-you-and-me gesture with his pointer finger. “We got the fucking file.”
“Have had it the whole time, actually.”
I look over at Sasha. “You had the file?”
She smiles. “No. I gave it to Ford and he gave it to Merc.”
I look at Merc. “You had the fucking file? And you let me chase after Harper trying to get it? Does Nick know this shit?”
“Is he here?” Sasha asks.
I look over at Sasha again. I’m getting a bad feeling now.
“This is not the file you’re looking for,” Merc says, waving his hand like he’s Obi-Wan Kenobi. But then his laugh stops and his smile fades. “This is something else. Something…” He looks over at Sasha. “Bigger. It’s much bigger. There’s two files, James. Ford and I got it open after Sasha gave it to him last year. And it’s all money, brother. Accounts, man. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, of secret money accounts.”
“Company money?”
Merc takes a long drag on his smoke and then blows out rings. “Yeah. Your precious Company has holdings everywhere, man.”
“Where the hell did it come from?”
He looks at Sasha and I turn my head as well. She’s got a grin on her face. But it’s not one of satisfaction or amusement. It’s nerves. “Spill, Smurf.”
“My dad was drunk the night before that Christmas Eve job. I knew he had something important. He said he was going to California for a day the week before. He left me at home. Alone. He never does that. He takes me to my grandparents when he has out-of-town business. So I knew something was wrong that day. And when he came back, he had a flash drive.”
“He didn’t go to California,” Merc says, interrupting the story. “Ford and I tracked him. He went to the Caymans and visited every bank in Georgetown.”
“He was late,” Sasha says sadly. “He didn’t get back until the next day. I stayed home and worried the whole time.”
“He set it up to steal all their money.”
I laugh. “Define all.”
“All. Except private funds, which I’m sure, from the lifestyle Nick describes, are still considerable.”
“Fucking Nick. I’ll kill that asshole for sending Harper away with the wrong file.”
“I’m not sure Nick knows, James.”
“So what’s on that file? The file he gave Harper. I assumed it was just names and shit.”
“Maybe it is,” Merc says. “Or maybe it’s not. But whatever it is, it’s important to these people.”
“None of this makes sense. Why the hell did the Admiral send me to the beach? Who the fuck is in charge of this operation?”
“I don’t think it’s one operation, James.” Merc and I both look to Sasha. “I only hear and see snippets, so you have to understand that when I tell you this stuff. But I’ve seen and heard a lot. My dad used to be someone important. He was kicked out of that position and that’s how we ended up on the road living out of an RV. But he still knew a lot of stuff. And right before he died, he was stealing their money and he was in contact with Nick. Nick had been around for months before the Christmas job. Nick is the one he was working with.”
I just stare at her.
“Nick asked him for help in stealing all that money. My father did it, not Nick. But it was Nick’s idea.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you two tell me this shit up front?”
Sasha steps back at my tone, but Merc has a hand on my shoulder before I can move.
“Look, dude, you were fucking insane, OK? We couldn’t bring you in until we knew you’d snap out of it. And you did. So she brought you here.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I brought her here.”
Merc smiles. “She’s damn good, isn’t she?”
“You set me up, Smurf?”
“Sorry,” she says. But she’s pretty proud of herself from the look on her face. “I was supposed to figure out if you were insane or not. Merc did send you to get me. But so did the Admiral. And Merc did send me out to the prairie to wait you out. But so did the Admiral. He’s playing you, James. He told me to kill you and that’s why he told you to kill me. And I’m pretty sure dropping Harper off was a bad idea, but we really did need to get rid of her.”
I scrub my hand down my face as I process all this. “And you let me put Harper in danger… why?” I look up again and they both stop smiling. I know that look. I don’t feel the change in me—I never feel the change in me. But I see the change in them.
“Now look, Tet,” Merc says as he squeezes my shoulder tighter. “You were not supposed to see her.”
“That’s bullshit. The fucking Admiral sent me to the beach to watch her.”
“He sent you to the beach so you’d bump into your assassin. But I paid that guy a visit before you arrived.”
“More bullshit! I told you on the phone before I ever went to the beach that I failed my psych exam and you practically hung up on me.”
“No, I said I didn’t have time for your whining. And I didn’t. I’ve got my own side jobs going, you know that. But the next day I took a trip down to SoCal and took care of your business.”
“Was it One?” I ask
“Is One dead?” Merc quips back. I just give him a snide look. “Obviously it was not One.” He waits to see if I’ll take another guess but I don’t. “It was Eight.”
“So all those assassinate-the-assassin jobs I did over the past two years?”
He shrugs. “Setups, I guess. I really have no idea, Tet. They wanted them to appear dead, but not be dead. You tell me. You know these Company people. I don’t. I have no clue how they think other than they want to get rid of me and I’m not gonna go easy.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Regime change, my friend,” Merc says. “Someone else wants to take over. Think about it. Harper poisons all those higher-ups when she makes her escape. You pick off your brother—for real,” he adds. “Then you find Harper and trail her like a good dog. One barges in and steals her file in the last second. Why?”
“They don’t trust me.”
Merc laughs. “Would you trust you?”
“Whatever.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t trust you for shit.” His smile says otherwise. “But I don’t think that’s the reason. I don’t think they know about this file we have.” He looks over to Sasha. “What do you think?”
She looks stunned that he wants her opinion. And why not ask her? She seems to be the one with all the answers, whether she wants to have them or not. Her expression becomes sad. Her eyes droop. “They know. They killed my dad for it.”
“So why two files?” I look at Merc for this.
“From what I can tell, there’s some kind of hack going on in the code. They need both files to access the money. And this makes sense. Because Ford and I tried like motherfuckers to steal money out of those accounts. I mean, shit. You dangle numbers in front of a hacker and that’s just what we do. But fuck if we could figure it out.”
“Nick would know.”
Merc and I both look at Sasha at the same time.
“Nick will know what to do with it.”
“Sasha,” I say softly. “Look, you can’t trust that guy. OK? You can’t trust him. He put Harper in danger. He put you in danger. He’s gotta be working for the Admiral.”