Fifi winked and grinned, while never taking her finger off the trigger of the PKM. ‘Howdy, Capitбn.’
‘… we’ll be on our way,’ Jules continued. ‘We have business up there, Mr…?’
‘What business?’
He was instantly on guard, alive to the possibility that somebody might trespass on his turf. She wondered about his background. He seemed too smart for a street thug, and yet he’d gathered a vintage crop of them around him. There seemed no obvious structure to his crew, no settled hierarchy of lieutenants or enforcers. He might be telling the truth about them providing a form of security to the resorts. After all, Shah and his men had hired themselves out to do just that to pay for their former lodgings, and of course they were now doing the same for her.
‘There are some American citizens in the resorts,’ she improvised. ‘Their government has arranged evacuation and we’re providing -’
‘They have no government,’ he cut in. ‘It is gone, desaparecido.’
‘Not all of it.’ Jules smiled disarmingly. ‘Not the part with all the guns and tanks and stuff. You know, los militares. There’s a good many of them still hanging around, and if you can still get a news service you’ll see they’re organising safe passage for any US citizen who wants it. We’re just part of that service. We’re… contractors.’
She shifted the Franchi, a big heavy-hitting piece of artillery, just to remind him of his proximity to it. She dropped her voice, however, so that only she and the capitбn could hear. ‘Let me guess what’s happening here, puta…’
Jules noted the instant flush of anger to his face. She could tell he wanted to bitch-slap her for that, but the presence of the shotgun stayed his hand.
She continued in the same low tone. ‘You probably had a couple of your crew back there take a few pot shots at some of the guests. Maybe they roughed up a gringo or two. And then you magically appeared to offer your services, to preserve them from the attentions of such dreadful ruffians. Of course, a premium service like you’re providing, it doesn’t come cheap. There’s all the men to pay, the equipment to maintain – and the smokes and beers and three-dollar whores don’t come cheap, do they? Well, maybe the whores. And you plan on, what, holding them here until you’ve bled them dry? Is that right?’
A quiet smile was all the reply she received. Jules stepped in a little closer now. Spoke a little more softly.
‘You’re obviously the brains of this operation. You look about a hundred times smarter than anybody here. What were you last week – a cop, a soldier, or something?’
He didn’t answer, but then he didn’t smack her down either. He was listening.
‘So think about this, profesor. Think about how much more it costs you to buy a cup of coffee, or a beer, or a taco, than it did two days ago. Think about how the money you’ve been taking off these fat white fools is worth less every day than the one before. You’ve noticed that, haven’t you? Because you’re the smart one here.’
He nodded, almost imperceptibly.
‘Think about how quickly that’s happening. Ask yourself how long it’s going to be before the money they have in there…’ – Jules motioned behind him, towards the protected enclave – ‘isn’t good for anything but wiping your arse. How long will that be? Another week, maybe two? Their money is going to be worthless a long time before you relieve them of it.’
Jules could see she’d struck a nerve point; now she had to act quickly before he made the logical connection and turned his guns around on the resorts. She moved right into his personal space now, but not in a threatening way. He had a good two or three inches of height on her, and she used it by turning her face up towards his and widening her eyes just a little more.
‘This city is falling to pieces,’ she went on. ‘You’re part of that, aren’t you? You know how it’s going to be here very soon, and you’re setting yourself up as a new power. But you know what? It’s not just you. We drove in here this morning. Some places are burning, some looted. We saw a couple of bodies on the streets here and there – saw plenty of guys like you, too. At the marina where my boat’s tied up, they’ve hired some muscle who would take these faggots of yours down in less than a minute. That’s not meant to be insulting. They’re just better equipped, better trained – better paid too, I’d guess. Looks like a lot of ex-military types down at the marina. Like my Mr Shah and his friend back there.’
The gang leader flicked a glance back at the Jeep, where the two Gurkhas stood, squat and utterly still. Between them they were more heavily armed than his entire crew. They fairly bristled with automatic weaponry and Thapa even sported a kukri dagger at one hip.
Jules was almost whispering now, softly and gently, like an old lover. ‘Not many ex-mil types here though – are there, Capitбn? Just you, really. You’re the only true pro here, which means you know what’ll happen if my guys back there open up on you. I’ll get shot, almost certainly, just because I’m standing so close to you. My friend Fifi, with that enormous Russian machine-gun, she’ll probably make it to cover because she’ll put out enough fire to make sure nobody draws a bead on her. And Shah and Thapa, well, look at them – they’re cold motherfuckers. They’ll do the job. But your guys… well… I think we both know what’ll happen when thousands of rounds of ammunition start heading towards them, don’t we? So let’s not even go there. Let’s see if we can work something out between us, you and me, so that everyone’s a winner. Perhaps you could start by telling me your name.’
‘Miguel Pieraro,’ he said quietly. ‘I am not police, no. I was vaquero – a cowboy… a boss of cowboys.’ His shoulders straightened with real pride. ‘But that was before. I worked in the north, by the border. I worked for an American cattleman, with large herds below the Rio Grande. I ran his business there. He supplied McDonald’s.’ Pieraro invoked the name of the Golden Arches with reverence and awe.
Jules eased back a little, giving him some room. He was a proud man and very obviously cut from finer cloth than his comrades. His grasp of English was excellent. The chorus of sexual taunts and whistles from the makeshift barricade had died away completely now. All of Pieraro’s men watched him closely, straining to hear what had passed between el jefe and the white slut.
‘I will take you in myself,’ he declared. ‘We will discuss your proposal. You have a proposal, yes?’
‘I do,’ she confirmed.
He nodded and called out to another man who was sitting on the bonnet of an old ‘79 Camaro, reclining back against the dirty windscreen. The car was a dinosaur, with faded red racing stripes to match a thick coating of rust and dust. ‘Roberto, you are in charge here! I will take our new friends through to the Fairmont. Call me on the radio if you need to. The phones are useless.’