“It’s what I’m doing,” Zulu said. “You pull open your own one. Hey, like this.”
His LAW rocket launcher was now thirty-six inches long.
Zulu said, “ ‘Re- . . .’ The fuck is that word there?”
Snow said, “ ‘Re- . . .
Zulu said, “Push it?”
Snow said, “Release the motherfucker however you suppose to release it. I think, yeah, you push it. Then the next word it say to aim. You ready to shoot.”
Zulu said, “I am? What’s this next one say?”
Snow said, “ ‘Squee- . . .’ I think it say ‘Squeeze.’ ”
Sweatman said, “What’s it say on top there? That ‘Danger’?”
Snow said, “Lemme see. Yeah, it say ‘Danger . . . rear blast . . .’”
Something hit the top of the van. They heard it and then saw it, a round kind of long thing like a stick of dynamite, bounce past over their heads to land among cardboard boxes. They heard a sound like
They were on the pavement now with their rocket launchers and machine guns, dazed, blinking their eyes in the dust clouding the headlight beam, looking up at flak jackets and shotguns.
Nicolet hunched down next to Zulu. He picked up a rocket launcher, glanced at the instructions, and laid the weapon across the jackboy’s chest.
“Couldn’t read it, could you? You dumb fuck—we wondered what you were doing. See?” Nicolet said, “You should never’ve dropped out of school.”
Ordell had Louis meet him at a bar on Broadway in Riviera Beach, all black in here, Louis looking over his shoulder sitting at the bar, Ordell telling him, “You all right, you with me.” Ordell was edgy too, in his mind, anxious and smoking cigarettes with his rum drink: wanting to drive by the storage place, see what it looked like, and having to drive down to Islamorada tonight, pick up Mr. Walker, and get him on a plane to Freeport. Everything at once. It would be good, though, to get out of town this evening and not show himself too much tomorrow either.
He said to Louis, “The main thing I want to tell you: Melanie goes in the place where they try on clothes.”
“The fitting room,” Louis said. “I make sure no suits are around before she comes out.”
“Do that,” Ordell said. “But then don’t leave. You do, she gonna walk with the Macy bag. You know what I’m saying? Take the bag from her and split, don’t wait. She give you any trouble, punch her in the mouth. What I mean, you have to take it from her, dig? Else Melanie’s gone and
22
Thursday, on the Freeport to West Palm flight, Jackie spent fifteen minutes in the lavatory rearranging her bag. The five hundred thousand she put in first took nearly half the space. She tucked lingerie around the edges, covered the money with blouses and two skirts and tied it all down, tight. The remaining fifty thousand went in last, across the top.
When she came out, a guy who’d been to Freeport to gamble said, “I’m waiting for a drink and you spend half the flight in the can. Soon as we land I’m making a formal complaint.”
Jackie said, “Because I was airsick?”
“How can you be a stew if you get airsick?”
“That’s why I’m quitting.”
“I’m still gonna make the complaint.”
“Because I was airsick,” Jackie said, “or because I called you an asshole?”
It confused him. He said, “You didn’t call me that.”
Jackie said, “I didn’t? Okay, you’re an asshole.”
It was her last flight.
Ray Nicolet was waiting on the top floor of the parking structure. He took the wheels from her saying, “We have to stop meeting like this.”
“You said that the last time.”
“So? It’s true, isn’t it? We could meet someplace else when this’s buttoned up. What do you think?”
“We could, if I’m not in jail.”
“Faron called the State Attorney’s Office. You were no-filed this morning in circuit court.”
Like that—hearing it in a dim parking structure among empty cars. She stopped and waited for Nicolet to look back and pause. “Are you saying I’m off the hook?”
“Free as a bird. I expect you to deliver the goods though, finish the job. How much you have this time?”
“What I told you,” Jackie said, “fifty thousand. He’s pretty sure he’s going to need bail money.”
“If a bond is set, which I doubt,” Nicolet said. They reached Jackie’s Honda. As she unlocked the trunk he said, “Last night we scored what would bring him another two hundred grand, easy, and took three of his boys without firing a shot.”
Jackie raised the trunk lid. “But you didn’t get Ordell.”
“Not yet. One of ’em will give him up. Or the guy you met in the hospital, he’s ready to flip.” Nicolet placed the wheels in Jackie’s trunk and got in the car with the flight bag. It was on his lap unzipped and open by the time Jackie slid in behind the wheel.
He said, “That’s fifty thousand, huh?” looking at the packets of hundred-dollar bills, each bound with a rubber band. “It doesn’t look like that much.”
“I was told ten thousand in each pack.”
“You didn’t count it?”
“I never have. It’s not my money.”
“He might’ve slipped some coke in here. Did you check?”
She watched Nicolet’s hand feel through the packets of currency and into the folds of a skirt.
“Mr. Walker promised he’d never do that again.”
“Where your curlers?”
“I didn’t bring them.”
She watched his hand move to a pair of black heels wedged into one side. His fingers touched the shoes, then moved again to pick up one of the packets. He held it close to his ear and riffled the bills with his thumb.
“Ten thousand, right.”
Nicolet rubbed the bills between his fingers and handed the packet to Jackie. “There’s coke dust on it. You feel it? Half the money in Florida, I think if you tested it you’d find dust.”
Jackie fingered the bills. Ten thousand in her hand. She smiled, saying, “Are you tempted?”
Nicolet looked at her. “What, to put one of these in my pocket? If I did, I’d have to let you have one too, wouldn’t I? Or we could take what we want, there’s no receipt with it. Nobody knows how much is here but us.” He took the packet from her and dropped it in the flight bag. “I’ve seen more money sitting on tables in dope houses, in cardboard boxes in property rooms. I’ve seen all kinds of dirty money lying around, and I’ve never been tempted to take any. How about you?”
Jackie said, “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Try to skim off Ordell?”
“Or me,” Nicolet said. “Once I mark it, this fifty grand belongs to ATF.”
“How would I take any of it,” Jackie said, “if I’m being watched every second?”
“That’s what I want you to understand, you’d be dumb to try. You put this fifty in your shopping bag, it’s what I expect to find when I look in Sheronda’s. You going with Saks bags again?”
“Macy’s this time.”
“Why?”
“Ask Ordell.”
“I can hardly wait,” Nicolet said.
