“Oh, fuck” as the kid reaches inside the waskath and detonates the bomb strapped to his body.
The green world goes red.
78
Few people ever have to find out
What they would do when their whole life has been based on one thing and then they’re offered the other.
Dennis knows that he can bust Filipo, and five other Filipos will kill each other trying to take the job vacancy. Knows that the job vacancy will be filled because the money is just too good. Knows he should bust him, anyway, cuff him, and read him his rights.
Filipo is showing no signs that he’s going to resist or run.
Maybe if Filipo had been your Cineplex-stereotype Frito-Bandito Mexi-cowboy in an embroidered black shirt and bright-green lizard-skin boots it might have been a simple choice. But Filipo wears a tailored gray sports coat over a white button-down shirt, an expensive pair of jeans, and black loafers. Slightly tinted bifocals, short-cut black hair with flecks of silver. Very understated, muted, soft-spoken.
Not a trace of threat in his voice or smirk on his face.
Just business.
An exchange of value for value.
Money for freedom.
A lot of things go through Dennis’s mind in a hurry. Things that just the day before probably wouldn’t have occurred to him, like $550K is
Granite countertops, is
His kids’ education, is
Fuck the coupons.
He thinks about his pension down the road, how maybe it buys an RV that you stencil some name like “Buccaneer” on and drive across the country every other year. $550K invested wisely over those years buys you A place in Costa Rica, on the water.
Trips to Tuscany.
Granite countertops.
It would be just this once, he thinks, one time and one time only, and never again.
Except Dennis knows that’s not true, even as he’s telling it to himself. He knows that a soul isn’t for rent, only for sale. But, to save face, he says, “This doesn’t change anything.”
Filipo nods, but allows just the suggestion of a smile to show on his face because they both know this changes everything.
The river of time is tough that way.
Sometimes the current is so strong that you can never go back to who you used to be, even for a visit, but
Dennis just nods.
Filipo goes out the door, taking
A big chunk of Dennis with him.
79
Who knows if faith cracks or erodes, the river of time eating away at its banks until it just crumbles.
Looks sudden.
Isn’t.
80
Chon hears the ululations of mourning.
Lying on his back, he feels cold air rush over him.
Then nothing.
Don Winslow
The Kings Of Cool
Laguna Beach
1976
Cocaine,
Runnin’ all ’round my brain.
81
Doc pulls a rabbit out of a hat.
Except it ain’t no rabbit and it ain’t no hat-Doc pulls a glassine envelope out of John’s surfboard.
Magic.
John just got home from a surfing trip with Doc to Mexico.
It wasn’t Third Reef Pipeline or anything like that, but it was fine and they had a couple of girls with them and everyone had a good time. Except now they’re unloading their gear in John’s driveway in Dodge City and Doc takes one of John’s boards and busts it open and John is like, what the hey?
“It’s the future,” Doc answers.
John is pissed-for one thing, it’s one of his favorite boards. Two, he’s twenty-four now and eligible for adult felony time. If Doc wants to take crazy chances, why doesn’t he do it with his own board?
Except Doc is like a god to him.
And now God speaks.
“You think there’s money in grass?” Doc says. “Grass is Junior Achievement. Coke is Wall Street. The hippie thing is over-peace, love, stick it up your ass. Jimi-dead. Janis-dead. It’s Sympathy for the Devil now.”
The future is in money and the money is in coke. Stockbrokers do coke-movie producers, music executives, doctors, lawyers, Indian chiefs-they do coke, not grass.
Grass is a house in Dodge City-coke is a place on the beach.
Grass is a new van-coke is a leased Porsche.
Grass is hippie chicks and patchouli oil-coke is models and Chanel.
John gets it.
John goes with it.
