There had been a Velcro fastening.
I heard more radio traffic. They'd found him. Baywatch man's name was Luther, but whoever the boss was on the ground, he didn't really care too much about Luther's condition.
He just wanted to know if he was able to talk.
"Yeah, he's OK."
"Is he alone?"
"Yeah, he's alone."
"Did he see the target?"
"No, he says he didn't see the target but they're still together."
"Does he know what direction they went?"
There was a pause.
"No."
I imagined Luther sitting on the ground with his head against the car, getting patched up and feeling pretty pissed off at me. In the background I could hear him mumbling in formation. He sounded almost drunk.
The sender said, "No idea of the direction. And one more thing he's armed. He had a sidearm with him and he's also taken Luther's ... Wait..."
I heard a click, then whoever was with Luther came back on the net; his voice was very agitated.
"We've got a problem he's got the radio! He's got the radio!"
The boss came back on: "Fuck! Everybody, all stations, cut com ms Close down now! Out."
The earpiece went dead. They were going to turn the radios off and refill with a new code. Luther's radio was obsolete. What I wouldn't have given now for a key gun. Luther said he hadn't seen the target, so it was Kelly they were after, not me. My face burned with anger. These were the people who'd killed Kev, they had to be. This chase was nothing to do with law enforcement; this was about people who wanted to finish the job. Maybe they thought Kelly had seen them.
By now I had finished my coffee and the waitress had whisked the cup away. I was starting to be a pain in the ass here; other people were waiting for my table. I went back into the rest rooms. The TV remote control was still in my pocket.
That went into the trash can, along with the useless radio.
What about Kelly? What did I have to gain by going back?
What if they'd found her, disposed other, and were waiting for me to pick her up? That was what I would have done. I could think of lots of reasons why I shouldn't go back.
Shit.
I walked back toward the mall exit. Looking left across the dead ground, I could just about see the roofofCompUSA.
The parking lot was still full, and it was raining harder now. I turned up the collar of Kev's jacket and looked toward the main drag. I could see a Wendy's like a desert island in the middle of the parking lot. It was coffee time again. I checked the route ahead for any sign of my new friends and again used tall vehicles as cover.
I took my burger and coffee over to a window seat. I couldn't see the rear of the buildings, but I could see the nearer of the two access roads, the one I'd been running toward when I met Luther. Better than nothing. The Wendy's had a play station, which was great cover; kids screamed around in a tub of multicolored tennis balls while their parents sat it out, just like me. I tried not to think of Kelly hiding among the Dumpsters, scared, wet, cold, and hungry.
I sat and stared out the window at the rain. I remembered the times I'd been bad as a child and got a spanking from my stepfather and been put in the shed for the night. I'd been terrified of the rain beating down on the clear plastic roof; I'd sat there curled up, thinking that if the rain could get me, then so could the bogeymen. As a soldier and as a K I had been shot at, beaten up, imprisoned; I'd always been scared, but nothing like those times as a child. I thought of Kelly abandoned in her makeshift hiding place, rain beating down on the cardboard. Then I cut it from my mind. She'd get over it. I shouldn't let it concern me; I'd done worse things.
Still looking out the window, I saw the white Taurus come out from behind the mall onto the access road, stop at the intersection and turn with the flow of traffic. It was four up by the looks of things, all suits, though in the rain it was hard to be certain. Four up was a good indication that they were lifting off: if they were taking Luther to the hospital, there'd be three at most inside, one driving, one looking after the casualty The others would have stayed behind. I was beginning to feel a decision coming on.
I'd have to change my appearance, and I'd have to do it on the cheap I had about five hundred dollars in total, and would be needing every cent.
I finished my coffee and went back to the boardwalk. I found a clothing store and bought a thin cotton raincoat that folded up to about the size of a handkerchief. I also bought a Kangol hat, the sort it was fashionable to wear the wrong way so the brim was hanging down the back of your neck and the logo was in front.
I then went to an Hour Eyes and bought a pair of display glasses with thick rims. Glasses really change the shape of your face. Whenever I'd needed an appearance change on a job, a haircut and glasses had always done the trick. Wearing a different color and giving yourself a different shape was the minimum required.
I went back to the rest rooms to sort myself out. I ripped out the inside of the raincoat pocket with my teeth. My newly acquired Sig .45 was down the front of my jeans, with the mags in my pockets. If the shit hit the fan, I could draw the weapon and fire through the coat.
I wanted to use the last three-quarters of an hour of day light re conning the garbage area. The lift-off might have been a ploy; I wanted to assure myself that nobody was lying in wait. The idea would be to do a complete 360 degrees around the target area, but before that I wanted to go back and give the hotel another look; I wanted to see if there were any police cars outside, to confirm whether it had been an official lift. If Luther and his friends were after a murder suspect, the cops should be up there by now, dusting for prints and taking statements.
I put on my disguise and looked in the mirror at the world's hippest dude well, nearly. If people looked closely, they would think I was the oldest swinger in town. I turned the cap around with the brim now forward, and off I went. I walked straight across the parking lot, crossed the main drag at the intersection, and worked my way back to the Best Western along the roads. I saw nothing. Everything looked perfectly normal; not a police car in sight.
As I walked back I thought about the state that Kev, Marsha, and Aida had been left in. Why hack them to bits? Luther and his friends weren't dope heads they were pros; they did nothing without a reason. They must have wanted it to appear drug related to cover their asses. Given the number of attempts on Kev's life in the past, it would have been perfectly plausible for the police to assume that one of them had finally succeeded, and that the perpetrators had then gone overboard and slain the whole family as a warning to others. But I knew that wasn't the explanation. They had killed Marsha because they'd have had to assume that Kev had passed on whatever he knew, and then they'd had to kill Aida simply because they didn't want witnesses. Kelly owed her life to their having not seen her. It was probably only after the news reports that they realized they hadn't finished the job, that there might be a witness after all.
The way they'd butchered Aida brought back to me a story about the American "hearts and minds" program in Vietnam.
In one region they'd injected the children of a village against smallpox. The Viet Cong came along a week later and cut each child's arm off. It worked: no more hearts and minds programs for them. Sometimes the end justifies the means. I had a sort of respect for Luther and company, but I knew I mustn't fuck around with these people they were too much like me.
Rush hour was now in full swing; it would be dark soon.
The stores were still open and the area was packed with people. It was great for me; it made me just another sucker.
As I walked I had my head down against the rain. I reached the Wendy's parking lot. This time I was nearer the fence;