He walked up and placed a hand on Gideon's shoulder and said, "This place smells like shit."
He wasn't exaggerating. The air was rank with the smell of cigarette smoke, mildewed plaster, and beer both new and used. Gideon shrugged out from Kendal's grip and started moving deeper into the place. "This shouldn't take long."
Kendal followed Gideon into the room as he walked along the shadowed wall that was farthest from the stage. The darkness was only highlighted where the black lights turned the cuffs of Kendal's shirt a fluorescing sky blue where they poked from the sleeves of his jacket.
The patrons paid no attention to them, but they were under the watchful eyes of the bouncers and of the bartender. Kendal didn't look tense, but Gideon could hear a hard urgency in his whispered voice. "I think you need to slow down this little investigation of yours."
"I'm in this up to my neck." Especially after his visit to Davy's apartment. IA was already leaving him messages. Magness could smell blood in the water. "Even if Rafe wasn't my brother—"
"You need to reconsider."
"Why?" This wasn't going the way he had planned. Kendal was supposed to be his backup, but while he had driven Gideon here, he had spent the entire drive trying to talk Gideon out of this. Kendal seemed nervous. It didn't fit. Kendal was built like a rock, immobile and impervious to that kind of emotion. But the way he looked around the bar, the way he moved his hands, it betrayed an unease that was alien to the man. Gideon had been maneuvering toward the bar, but he stopped and lowered his voice. "What have you found out?"
Up to now, he hadn't been forthcoming, but he finally gave him an answer of sorts.
"Very little," Kendal finally said. "But everyone acts as if I have the plague as soon as I bring up the subject. Even those who say they don't know anything about what's going on. You name the Agency, and they don't want to touch it."
" I told you" Gideon whispered. "There is something dirty going on here." Gideon moved toward the bar, and Kendal grabbed his cast.
"This is why I didn't tell you," Kendal said. "You want to dive into this crap headfirst."
Gideon shook his head. "Are you here to help me?"
Kendal didn't let go. "The one thing I have is a rumor that D'Arcy is interested in the investigation into the Secret Service."
Gideon tried to pull away.
"D'Arcy, Gideon." Kendal repeated the name as if it was a mantra that might make Gideon return to his senses.
D'Arcy was a name to conjure with, and Gideon was a D.C. native who was quite aware of who the National Security Advisor to President Ray burn was. Supposedly the Kissinger of the twenty-first century.
However, if anything, Kendal's attitude just made Gideon angry. He yanked his cast away from him. "Back me up or get the fuck out of my way." Anger had flattened his voice until his whisper was barely
audible under the sounds of "Heart of Glass."
Kendal let him go, but he followed him toward the bar, still talking. "It's possible. D'Arcy has a reputation for black-bag ops as far back as the Reagan Administration. Cut his teeth on Central American psych-ops and end runs around Congress. You really don't want to mess with this." When Gideon didn't respond, he asked, "What do you think you're going to do?"
"Some police work," Gideon said quietly as he reached the bar.
The man behind it was very dark and had dreadlocks down to his shoulders. Gideon leaned his cast on the bar and said, "I'd like to ask you a few questions."
The man kept cleaning the glasses behind the bar. He didn't even look up at him. "Ain't got nothing to talk to you about, man."
Gideon fished out his badge and laid it on the bar. "I think you do."
The man shook his head. "Ain't got nothing to say to no cop." He looked up at Gideon. "And you ain't on duty, I seen you on the TV. Less reason to talk to you."
"Look, I'm not here to fuck with your business. I don't care what you sell with the drinks, or what your dancers might do for an extra fifty—"
"Hey. This is a clean place. Nothing like that going on here, man."
Yeah, right. "Look, you just tell me about a couple of regulars and we won't have Vice down here to experiment with the forfeiture laws."
The bartender put down his glass and leaned toward Gideon. "And if you just walk your gimp ass out of here, my boys won't bust your fucking cop head "
Gideon felt a presence next to him and looked to the side. Bouncer number one was staring down at him from a height of six-six. As he was looking at one, he felt a large hand on his good shoulder. The other guy was, if anything, taller than the first. They both wore black T-shirts with astrological symbols. Gemini and Virgo. Virgo was tugging on his shoulder, saying "I think you better g°"
"None of us want any trouble here," Gideon grabbed his badge and put it back in his pocket. He didn't have his gun, because with his right arm in a cast it would've been too dangerous. Right now he wished he'd brought it.
"You making the trouble, man," the bartender said. "I asked you to go."
Virgo pulled him away from the bar, and Gideon stumbled on his bad leg, and the crutch slipped out from under him. Gemini grabbed his other shoulder, and Gideon felt a pain in his old bullet wound.
"I don't think you want to do that." Gideon recognized Kendal's voice coming from somewhere behind him.
"This isn't your business," Gemini said, turning away from Gideon.
"I think you should let the man go."
Gideon dangled from the bouncer's grip. The two of them had stopped moving him when Kendal spoke. Gideon used the moment's respite to shift his feet under him so that he could put his weight on his good leg.
"We don't want things to get nasty," Virgo called toward Kendal. Gideon saw Gemini go for his belt with his free hand. He pulled an object out of a small black holster behind him. Gideon couldn't see if it was mace, a stun gun, or a pistol—it was enough of a threat for him to do something about.
He tensed, balanced himself on his good leg, and as soon as Gemini loosened his grip to take a step toward Kendal, Gideon slammed his cast into the man's kidney. Even as his partner was doubling over, Virgo yanked Gideon so he fell to his knees, his good arm twisted up behind his back. "Bad move," Virgo said as he pushed him forward, into the floor.
Gideon heard the bartender's Jamaican-accented voice calling, "What the fuck you doing?"
Gideon turned his head just in time to see Kendal slam his fist into the side of Gemini's head. Gemini's weapon, a collapsible baton, flew from his hand, toward the stage. As Virgo ground Gideon's face into the floor, Kendal landed another blow on Gemini. Gemini dropped as if someone had swung a cinder block into his face.
The Jamaican cursed, and Gideon heard him dive behind the bar, going for something.
Kendal stepped back from Gemini and pulled a sleek black gun from inside his trench coat. "I'd appreciate it if no one moved." He said it in a calm, level voice that somehow managed to silence everything but the music. The only sounds were distorted Blondie and the scuffle of a half-dozen people backing away from Kendal and the bar.
Virgo backed off, and Gideon pushed himself up off of the floor.
"You, behind the bar. I want to see both hands." Gideon reached over and grabbed his crutch from
where it had fallen on the ground. As he pushed himself up, he saw the Jamaican slowly rising from behind the bar. The patrons had backed up to the walls, forming a half circle around the bar, watching the four of them. Gemini was still flat on the ground, and Virgo was staring at Kendal, seemingly caught between conflicting desires—either make a grab for Kendal, or fade into the background with the rest of the bar's patrons.
Gideon made his way around to the other side of the bar with the Jamaican. The guy was staring at Kendal, his hands spread. Something lay on the floor at his feet, half-pulled from a shelf under a small refrigerator. Gideon knelt carefully on his good leg, leaning the crutch against the bar and reaching out with his left hand to pull it the rest of the way out.