Damage Control

Scorpion led them with purpose, rarely stopping to readjust to his map. Tristan figured that the box in his hand was a GPS of some sort, but it was way more exotic looking than anything he’d ever seen in a store.

Tristan picked up his pace to catch up with the leader, doing his best not to make a lot of noise.

“You’d be wise not to sneak up on people,” Scorpion said without looking. When he turned around for eye contact, he was smiling. “Come on up and walk with me.” He moved to the side to open up a gap between him and the foliage on his left.

Tristan stepped up.

“How are you holding up?” Scorpion asked.

“I wish I didn’t have to wear all of this crap,” he said. “It’s heavy and hot.”

“It’ll also stop a bullet,” Scorpion said. “Keep it on. How are you doing otherwise?”

“I’m scared,” Tristan said. He worried that they were the wrong words, but they were the only ones that came to mind.

“Good for you,” Scorpion said. “Give yourself an A in humanity.”

Tristan didn’t get it. How did someone endure this kind of pressure and drama yet remain so calm? He actually wanted to ask that as a question, but he didn’t know how to phrase it without sounding like a toad.

“You should feel proud of yourself,” Scorpion said. “I’ve rescued a lot of people over the years, and not all of them held up as well as you have.”

Tristan said, “Thanks,” but it sounded hollow, even to his own ears. What else was there to say?

“Tell me about home,” Scorpion said. “I know you’re on the debate team, but tell me something else I should know about you.”

Inexplicably, Tristan found himself blushing. “That’s it,” he said. “I’m boring. I’m a geek. I’m the anti-you.”

Scorpion laughed. “The anti-me? What does that mean?”

Under different circumstances, the laughter might have been offensive, but in this case, Tristan kind of liked it. He’d planted the joke, after all. “Look at you,” he said. “Now look at me. Any questions?”

Scorpion laughed again. Then he seemed to notice that he was laughing alone, and he turned serious. “Look,” he said. “I’m not going to bullshit you with a bunch of esteem-building nonsense, okay? I bet you have enough of that in your life. I’m really sorry about all your friends. I wish I could have done something for them.”

Tristan looked away. He felt emotion pressing behind his eyes, and he didn’t need anybody to see that.

“You know that there are bad folks in the world,” Scorpion went on. “You probably always knew that, but now you really know. Your best revenge is to come out on the other end of this alive.”

“I can live with that,” Tristan said. He didn’t mean it as a pun, but once he heard it, and the chuckle that it elicited, he allowed himself a smile.

“I bet you can,” Scorpion said.

A minute or two passed in silence as they trudged on. Tristan pulled at his vest, trying to get it to sit comfortably.

“How do you do this all the time?” Tristan asked. “How do you handle the stress?”

Scorpion answered without dropping a beat. “Scotch,” he said. “But not just any scotch. Good scotch. You’re too young for it, but when you get older, remember the name Lagavulin. Doesn’t get any better than that.”

Tristan smiled because he knew he was supposed to, but it had been a real question. Disinclined to ask it a second time, he stared ahead.

“I don’t know if I can make you understand,” Scorpion said. “I tried to touch on it before. It’s not about stress for me. It’s about success. No matter how bad things look sometimes, there’s always a happy solution to be found somewhere. You just have to stay with it until you find it.”

“But suppose you don’t?”

“You always do. That’s the reality. If you’re willing to commit everything to finding the answer-and I mean everything, up to and including your life-then the answer will be found, even if it costs everything you were willing to risk.”

Tristan scowled, not sure that he’d actually heard the words. “You mean, even if you die.”

Scorpion nodded. “That’s exactly what I mean. I’m the first to admit that I’ve got a weird squint on the world, but the way I see it, the business of living is all about the living. Too many people devote their lives to not dying, even though none of us gets out of this experience alive. To me, that’s just squandering limited days on the planet.”

The words clanged Tristan’s bullshit bell. He wanted to ask how Scorpion could get so used to killing people, but he didn’t know how to phrase it so it wouldn’t sound like an accusation.

After a pause, Scorpion said, “Now, can I ask you a question?”

Tristan shrugged. “Sure.”

“Why did Bill Georgen and Bobby Cantrell back out of this trip at the last minute?”

The specificity of the question startled him. “How do you know about Bill and Bobby?”

“You don’t do what I do without a lot of research,” Scorpion said.

“I don’t know,” Tristan said. “But it happened pretty quickly. I didn’t know they weren’t coming until just before we left. Lucky bastards.”

“From what you could tell, were they looking forward to the trip?”

Something tugged at the back of Tristan’s brain. “Why are you asking this?”

“For exactly the reason you think I am,” Scorpion said.

“You think they had something to do with this?”

“Not them, necessarily. But maybe their parents.”

Tristan knew that the very thought of such a thing should offend him. So, why didn’t it?

When it became obvious that Scorpion was actually waiting for an answer, Tristan hedged, “I can’t say for certain. We weren’t exactly close.”

“What did the chaperones tell you about them not coming?”

Tristan shrugged. “Nothing, really. Just that they wouldn’t be.”

“Surely someone must have asked.”

“I guess I did, but Mrs. Charlton just said there was a change in plans. She seemed kind of pissed about it, actually. Something about having to change the numbers on a bunch of reservations. It didn’t seem all the important to me, but Mrs. Charlton is kind of a control freak. I mean, was.” Man, oh man, he was going to need some serious shrink time when all this was over.

Tristan changed the subject. “So, am I right that the plan is to steal an airplane and sneak back into the United States?”

“Um, no. Not exactly. There’s no way for us to just fly across the border. The United States doesn’t like airborne invasions. Especially these days. We have to pick up a passenger first, and then she’s going to smuggle us across the border.”

The pieces didn’t fit in his head. “Aren’t we still wanted for murder? What happens when we get back?”

Scorpion did a bobblehead thing with his neck. “That’s where it gets complicated,” he said. “This passenger we’re picking up has information that will clear your name. Actually, she’ll have information that will bring all these bastards to justice.”

“What about your name?” Tristan asked.

“Excuse me?”

“You said that this lady will clear my name. What about yours?”

“Mine, too,” he said, but there was a sparkle that spoke of an inside joke.

“How long?” Tristan asked. “You know, before we’re there? It’ll be dark soon”

“We want it to be dark,” Scorpion said. “I’d say we’re about three miles out.”

“Isn’t it easier to fly an airplane in the daytime?”

“It is,” Scorpion said. “But it’s much easier to borrow them at night. Some people get nervous when you borrow their stuff without asking.”

“That’s because the rest of the world calls it stealing,” Tristan said.

Scorpion made a puffing sound. “We’re not going to keep it. We’re just going to use it for a few hours.”

Tristan shook his head. “I’m pretty sure the law-”

“Tristan.”