Everybody Pays (30 page)

“We’re all together, right? I mean, we do stuff and everything. It’s like Cross is always saying: It ain’t
our
country, we just live here. So, if we live somewheres else, it don’t make no difference. But we don’t have to split up, do we? I mean, how
come?
”

“Cross just
said
why,” Rhino spoke gently. “We . . . stick out too much if we’re together.”

“They started it,” Princess hissed through grated teeth. Every man’s spine went a bit colder, hearing the maniac child’s muttered war cry.

“Princess . . .” Rhino reached out and put his hand on the cable-muscled forearm of his friend.

“No!” Princess jerked his arm away. “They
did
start it, right, Cross? We wasn’t doing nothing to them!”

“You’re right, Princess,” Cross said, flat-voiced. “We didn’t do anything to them. And we
can’t
do anything to them. It’s like punching a pillow—no matter how hard we hit them, there’d always be more of them. If we want to stay here, stay together, we have to play like Uncle wants.”

“And
then
we get them, right?” Princess asked, his face as eager as a child’s at Christmas. A child with a family.

“I don’t know,” Cross said. “I don’t even know if we can. . . .”

“But you got a plan, right?” the huge child implored.

“I . . . might have. Just give me a few days to make some calls, think some things through. All right?

“Yes!” Princess high-fived Rhino.

“If we have to split up, and it looks like we do,” Cross said to Rhino later, “you know we got to tranq him out. No way he’s going to go quiet.”

“He doesn’t want to go,” Rhino agreed.

“I know. But nobody else really gives a damn and—”

“I don’t want to go either,” Rhino said. “And neither does Ace.”

“Ace would stay away. He—”

“I mean . . . go away from . . . us. I don’t want to break up. Except for Buddha . . .”

“Sure.”

“He probably can’t wait for it to go down like that. Him and that So Long, they could take over the bar, make some money.”

“I came up with Ace,” Cross said. “And then you. I didn’t meet Buddha or Fal until the fucking war. But there’s more to Buddha than you think.”

“Or less.”

“Maybe they’re the same,” Cross said. “But I don’t think he wants to split up either.”

“We’ll never know.”

Cross took the last of his ritual three drags from his cigarette, said, “I think we might, brother. I think I know a way to do it. And without Buddha, it won’t fly.”

The alley behind the bar was a tiny pocket of silence in an uproar. The Friday-night combination—men with paychecks eager to drink them up and those without jobs drinking to dull that pain—was always a guarantee of a diversion if one was needed. Cross spoke softly to a man of about his own height and weight. But, unlike Cross’s, this man’s face was marked with more than the roadmap of his life. He was a Chickasaw Indian, his long black hair pulled straight back from his scalp and gathered tightly behind him.

“It’s a real long shot.”

“The full thermal will give us a chance at getting her—”

“I don’t mean that. I mean getting out at all.”

“I told you how that would work.”

“Even if we could get to the area, clear the ground, and hold it, it’s still shaky.”

“Why? You know the score. Long as there’s plenty of bang, it won’t matter whether she comes out with us or not. A nice try is all they’re looking for.”

“We don’t have any recon. For all we know, we could encounter hostiles before we ever got across the border.”

“Sure. But it’s not likely. You’re going along the prospector’s route. Bandits . . . sure. But not troops.”

“The language—”

“I got it covered. At your end, anyway.”

“A million in gold?”

“Post-assay, twenty-four K guaranteed. Half in hand before we leave.”

“Sure. For everyone, right?”

“Right.”

“There’s no tontine in this, is there?”

“Who’s Tontine?”

“Tontine is a kind of trust. A legal thing. Only you don’t have to be legal to set one up. Just means the survivors get the share of anyone who doesn’t make it back.”

“What do you care? Even if
we
had one, it wouldn’t cover you.”

“I’ll tell you why,” Falcon said, his voice as unmenacing as a hovering butterfly. “I’m not going into anything with Buddha if he gets one dime extra for coming out alone.”

“You think
any
of us would?” Cross laughed. “Truth is, me, Rhino, and Ace, we got one of those—what did you call it, ‘tontine’?—things set up between us. Buddha’s not in it. Never has been. The property’s in his name, that’s enough.”

“Not Princess either?”

“What’s the point? If Rhino’s alive, he’ll take care of him. If Princess is the only one left, what difference would it make if he had money? He’d only last a few hours before—”

“I have a family,” Falcon interrupted.

“I didn’t know.”

“Not a wife. Not children. A family. A tribe. My brothers and sisters. Same as you all—”

“We’re a crew,” Cross said sharply. “Forget that ‘family’ stuff. This is about getting paid. We’re professionals. This kind of job, we get paid up front. You in or out?”

“I’m always out,” Falcon said. “My whole family is always out. So, on this one, count me in.”

Cross nodded.

“As soon as the money’s paid,” Falcon said, disappearing into the alley’s shadows.

“You said you could get some things into there,” Cross reminded the Mayan.

“I did not say it was a certainty. It is . . . possible. It has happened. But it would be
carefully
inspected even if we could get it in. The punishment for smuggling food to a prisoner, or a letter—anything at all—it would be severe. Still, some of the guards take the risk. Who would inform on them, anyway? Another of their same”—the Mayan made a face of pure disgust—“kind. But to smuggle in a weapon, to assist in an escape, ah, then death would be guaranteed. And a long time coming. So they would test it unless it was impossible to be a weapon or a communication device.”

“A pill. A lousy pill. A big fat vitamin pill. And they could make her swallow it right in front of them.”

“If it was a
solid
pill, not a capsule. Yes. I think that could be done. But she might refuse the pill. Even if they told her it was from her father, she might not trust them.”

“So they force it down her throat,” Cross said evenly. “Odds are it wouldn’t be the first time they did that.”

“That is true,” the Mayan said. “Even among vermin, they would be despised. I will make inquiries. And I will have your answer soon.”

“Fal says he’s in, if we decide to go that way,” Cross told the crew.

“For how much?” Buddha asked instantly.

“One mil. Same as everyone.”

“That leaves one-point-five,” Buddha pointed out, his voice cold.

“With the plan I got in mind, that might not even be enough for expenses,” Cross told him. “It’s a million apiece. And we go in splits.”

“Splits?” Ace said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. You, Fal, and Princess go over the border. Me, Rhino, and Tiger go into the airport.”

“What about me, boss?” Buddha asked.

“On this one, you start on your own,” Cross said. “But you don’t come back alone, Buddha. Understand?”

“No.”

“You will.”

“Tiger’s gonna be in on this, don’t she get a share?”

“Her share is getting
out
.”

“How come I don’t get to go with Rhino?” Princess demanded, a petulant tone in his voice.

“Because you’re working . . .
undercover,
” Cross told him.

“Oh, man! For real? Cool!” Princess exclaimed, beside himself with excitement.

Cross caught a hard look from Rhino.

“Princess, I mean
real
undercover, understand? No makeup, no earrings, no costumes, no . . . nothing, okay? You got to look like a
campesino.
”

“Sure. I can—”

“And you have to speak only Spanish,” Cross said, his tone final.

“I don’t know any—”

“Yes, you do,” Rhino said. Softly and sadly. “I know it’s not something you want to think about, but you heard it enough when they had you . . .”

Princess sat down against the wall of the back room and started to cry like a newly orphaned child.

“I don’t know the whole story,” Rhino told Cross later. “They captured him when he was real young . . . but he never talks about it. He knew English when they took him. Then they trained him for cage-fighting. That’s where he was when we found him, remember?”

“I remember when
you
found him. I still don’t know why we—”

“Yeah, you do. He’s one of us. He hates them. He hates them
all
.”

“Princess doesn’t—”

“He does, Cross. And you know it. I figure, they had to kill his people when they took him. He never mentions it. Never heard him say any word that sounds like . . . ‘parent.’ So it probably happened right in front of him. Maybe he wouldn’t speak Spanish because it would be like admitting he was one of those . . . who took him. But you’re right. He heard it. For years and years.”