Savages

I need another one?

173

O writes Paqu:

Dear Mommy,

Hello from Paris, or should I say bonjour from Paree. It’s very nice here, with the Eiffel Tower and all that. The pain au chocolat is awesome, but don’t worry, I’m not eating too much. All the French women are very skinny, the bitches. Talk to you soon.

Your daughter,

Ophelia

The BC folks aren’t idiots—they route the e-mail through one of their affiliates in France so the “sent at” matches up.

Then O writes Chon and Ben:

Hi guys,

Get me the fugh outta here.

143

O

174

“They could just be writing it,” Chon says.

“No, it’s her.”

“How do you know?”

“‘Fugh’?”

They write back, “We’ll bring you back.”

Then try to figure out how to make that the truth.

175

Problem with that is

The BC have relocated all their stash houses.

Fun and games, fun and games but

It’s the right move.

An ounce of prevention, pound o’ cure. Lado and Elena put their heads together on it and made the call—new houses, new routes should solve the cash car prob for a little while, anyway, hopefully long enough to find the leak.

So Ben and Chon are screwed for targets. They staked out the stash houses in Dennis’s files and all the occupants are gone. Just moved out and abandoned the places.

Here today, gone tomorrow, or

In Chon’s experience

Hero today, gonzo tomorrow.

And while robbing themselves helps to throw off suspicion, you don’t make any money robbing yourself. With uninsurable items like dope and dope money, anyway. (“Hello, State Farm? What would the premiums be on a ton of Sweet Dreams and—hello, State Farm?”) Even that fucking gecko isn’t going to go for that, ditto the Neanderthal guys.

And, anyway, you want to mix it up. It’s the relentless cycle of guerrilla warfare, Chon knows. You act, the enemy adjusts. You adjust again, the enemy readjusts. And on and on and on.

“We could take them when they’re coming in for a dope pickup,” Ben says, because he’s, like, Butch Cassidy now. “But we’d get that money anyway, so what’s the point?”

“No point.”

But when they leave with the dope they just paid for …

Because dope is as good as money. Better, really, in this economy. Dope never slides against the euro.

So that’s the new new plan they come up with: sell the BC the dope, then rob them of the dope you just sold them.

Because once it leaves the store …

176

Reagan and Ford.

A Republican robbery.

Ben flat out refuses to wear the Reagan mask (for a half-ass Buddhist, Ben can hold a full-ass grudge) so Chon takes it. Ben puts on Ford and promptly bumps his head getting into the car.

“I’m a method hijacker,” Ben explains.

Chon doesn’t approve of the levity.

“It could get ugly this time,” he warns.

“It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye,” Ben agrees.

177

They sit in a stolen Volvo station wagon half a mile from the grow house back out in Ortega country.

Yes, a Volvo station wagon.

“A Volvo?” Ben asked when Chon came back with the work car. “Seriously?”

“These things are tanks.”

They handle for shit, but they crash beautifully.

So they sit in the Volvo and watch the BC van go in and then wait for the transaction to be completed and for the van to come back. There’s only one road in so they know that the van will come back the same way, loaded with a shipment of primo Ultra.

“Your seat belt buckled?” Chon asks when they hear the van coming.

“Tray table locked and seat in an upright position.”

“Ramming speed.”

Because everyone loves Animal House.

They hit the van at a diagonal angle in the front right quarter panel. Chon is out of the driver’s seat before the car even stops. He shows the startled van driver the shotgun and jerks him out of the seat. Ben gets the drop on the rider. The driver is flat on the ground, Chon starts to get in and then—

Shit doesn’t happen slo-mo the way it does in the movies.

It happens so freaking fast.

Sick fast:

Chon is hopping into the driver’s seat when—

The shot goes off

So loud