'We gotta make a deal first.'
'I don't make deals, Scully.'
'You do if you want a piece of this. You jobbed me on the Naval Yard case and you gave me up to Shephard when I saw Jody. This time, we do it one hundred percent my way.'
'You've turned into a complete dick, ya know that?' she snorted. Then there was a pause, and she added, 'Okay… What's your deal, big shot?'
'You do this exactly the way I say. No arguments, no revisions. Right now we both have a bargaining chip, so you bring the file you got from Shephard's office; I'll bring the book.'
'That file's evidence! I don't even have a copy yet.'
'We need it to make sure I really found their crib. If my book decodes your document, then we know I'm right.'
'Where are you?'
Shane looked at the typed sheet Jody had given him.
'I'll meet you at 1623 Glen Oaks. Near the old deserted airfield in San Fernando out by the wash.'
After a long silence, she asked: 'Where's Jody's unit now?'
'They're on a field op. It sounds like an all-nighter. I'm listening on the radio we found in Shephard's house- monitoring them. If you hurry, we'll be out before they get back.'
'Okay, stay put. I'll be there in twenty-five,' she said, then hung up.
'Let's go,' Jody said. 'It's only ten minutes from here. Tremaine will tail her from her place.'
Shane figured that meant Inky Dink was Tremaine.
When they got back into the van, Rodriquez slid behind the wheel again. Jody sat in the passenger seat, Shane on the floor in the back as before. This time they left the cuffs off.
'Get rollin',' Jody instructed. Rodriquez put the van in gear and pulled away from the motel.
They drove for three miles to the old abandoned airfield. It was on a hundred acres, but had only a twenty- five-hundred-foot runway and was right next to the Van Nuys wash. The underdeveloped site had become too valuable for a 'propeller only' landing strip, so it had recently been sold to a big developer. A sign on the rusting wire fence proclaimed it as the future site of the Dominico Gardens Condominium Project.
They parked near a culvert. Jody began fiddling with the radio, finally tuning in a rap station. Synthetic drums and black anger filled the van.
'When'd you start listening to this shit?' Shane asked. 'You used t'like jazz.'
'Funny, but now I puke when I hear jazz. I need some 'tude with my tunes.'
'Can I have my gun?'
Jody looked at him for a long time.
'Hey, Jody, you want me to cap this bitch or not? If I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna need a piece, or am I supposed to just kill her with a rock?'
Jody just smiled. 'Calm down, Salsa… Here.' He reached into his belt and handed Shane's nine-millimeter Mini-Cougar back to him. Shane nodded as he pulled out the clip and checked it. The Remington Lights glittered in the pale moonlight. He slammed the clip back, then stuck the automatic into his belt.
'Okay, we're in the bushes,' Jody said. 'And, Shane… Much as I hate to say this: You take her, or I'm taking you.'
Jody nodded at Rodriquez; they got out of the van and walked across the road. Shane watched them until he lost them in the dark.
Twenty minutes later Shane saw Alexa's headlights pull up behind him.
Chapter 20
ALEXA ARRIVED IN her Crown Victoria, pulling around and parking in front of the van. Shane stood by the open driver's door, glancing off, trying to see, without luck, where Jody and Rodriquez were hiding. The rising sun was just beginning to light the edge of the horizon. Shephard's radio was on the seat near him, turned down low. Jody and Rodriquez had handsets and were planning to broadcast a phony surveillance.
'Whose wheels are those?' Alexa asked, nodding at the van as she got out of the Crown Vic.
'Rental. Didn't want to use my car-Jody knows it,' Shane answered.
Alexa approached him with the manila file in her hand. She was dressed in jeans with a blue LAPD windbreaker and had skinned her black hair back and fastened it with a clip. She wore no makeup, and he could see tension pulling at the corners of her mouth.
Suddenly, Jody's voice came over the radio, startling both of them: 'Snake, this is Gopher… Hold your position. I'm comin' to you.'
'Dick-brain is still in there with his dealer. They're probably gonna inhale the retail,' Rod's voice answered. 'If these assholes are chalked up, it could get screwy.'
'Roger,' Jody said. 'We're holding the back door. Let 'em come out. We'll do the takedown on the street. Out.'
Shane smiled at her. 'Sounds like they're gonna be occupied for a while.' She nodded. Jody and Rodriquez were doing the scam broadcast for Alexa's benefit, but she already knew it was bullshit. Shane and Alexa didn't dare break cover for fear that there was a mike hidden in the van-the ultimate game of cheating the cheaters.
The file in her hand was the original. The copy had been scanned into the computer and was in a safe at the Questioned Documents Division. Filosiani had wanted them to use the original in Shephard's ballpoint pen, so Jody wouldn't become suspicious.
'That it?' Shane asked, pointing to the folder and reciting his first line, not knowing whether Jody could even hear him, but taking no chances.
'Yeah. Where is this place you found- how far from here?' she responded.
'It's right on the other side of the fence; the blue and white hangar by the gas pumps. The whole place is deserted. I'm not gonna lug this thing,' he said, and switched off the radio.
Then he led her a hundred yards up the road to the padlocked gate.
'There,' he said, pointing through the fence at the hangar. 'The big blue and white one. I've been through it. They got sleeping bags, Coleman lanterns, ice coolers… Place looks like an ad for Field and Stream.'
'That's private property. Did you even bother to get a search warrant?'
'No, where'm I gonna get a warrant in the middle of the night?'
'You need a warrant, dummy. We can't go on private property without one. Anything you find there will be inadmissible.'
'Fuck court. This isn't about court; it's about me an' Jody. That fucker lied to me. I'm gonna bring him down.' Shane was almost screaming at her, hoping the argument would be overheard.
'That was it all along, wasn't it?' she said. 'You don't care about prosecuting these guys; you just want revenge. You're a bleeding sore, Scully… No wonder you're going through a Pattern of Conduct Review. Gimme the book,' she demanded.
'I left it in there.'
'Why on earth did you do that?' she challenged.
'Because if they got back before you arrived and the book was gone, they'd know somebody tossed the place. Jesus, how many of these have you been on?'
'Okay… It can still work,' she said. 'We won't touch anything or leave our prints around. We'll check out the book together. If it translates, we'll back out, call for a warrant and SWAT. Nobody has to know we went in there illegally first. That way we can still use the evidence.' Lines written by the Day-Glo Dago.
Shane and Alexa had now arrived at the chain-link gate. After Shane picked the lock, they moved onto the deserted airfield, past a windsock long ago eaten by the toxic L. A. air. It hung at the end of a rusting pole, like the shredded skin of a dead animal. They had agreed earlier to say nothing unscripted, to avoid surreptitious communication for fear they might be under high-powered directional mikes and a telephoto lens. Shane thought
