200
Chon sees it and switches his aim from Crowe to Brian, sci-figreen in the nightscope.
Fifty yards away in the trees, prone position, rifle on a bipod.
If Brian goes for the gun, it’s over:
Two shots into him, swing back, two shots into Crowe.
Chon puts pressure on the trigger.
201
“It’s okay,” OGR says.
Brian’s hand relaxes.
(Chon’s doesn’t.)
“Take your clothes off.”
“What?”
“I want to make sure we’re not podcasting on the DEA network,” OGR says. “You and your little buddy, Agent Cain.”
“Fuck him.”
“Take them off.”
“You take yours off.”
“I’m not the one who wants the deal.”
“Bullshit-you’re here.”
“Off.”
Ben takes his shoes off, then his shirt and his jeans. Holds his hands up, like, you satisfied?
“All of it.”
“Come on. ”
“You could have a wire taped to your dick or under your balls,” OGR says. “I’ve seen it done.”
“I could have it up my ass,” Ben says. “You want to check that, too?”
“I might, you keep talking.”
Ben steps out of his shorts.
202
Chon doesn’t like it.
On several counts.
First, it’s humiliating, and he hates to see Ben humiliated.
Second, they might want to shoot him like that, really send a message, like the Mexican cartels do.
His finger tightens.
So does his head
Saying
Do it now
Do them both
Get it over with
Sooner rather than
Later.
Remembering what an officer in the Stan once told him I’ve never regretted killing a terrorist-I’ve only regretted not killing him sooner.
You let the villager go one day, next day he comes back with a bomb.
Do it now
Do them both.
203
“Check the van,” OGR tells Brian. “Mikes, wires, what the fuck.”
Brian gets into the van.
“Can I get dressed?” Ben asks.
“Please. Not that you’re not a good-looking guy.”
Ben gets dressed.
Hears Brian digging around in the van with all the subtlety of an orangutan on crank. Then Brian comes out of the van, says, “It looks clean.”
“It looks clean?” OGR asks. “I don’t care what it looks like, I care what it is.”
“It’s clean,” Brian says.
“Better be,” OGR says.
“Can we do this now?” Ben says. “Did you bring the money?”
“First things first,” OGR says.
He pulls a knife from his waistband.
204
Lado bends over, slices the dead man’s stomach open, pulls out his intestines, and carefully forms them into the letter “S.”
The last letter in the word
“T-R-A-I-D-O-R-E-S”
Traitors.
205
Crowe doesn’t know how close he is to dying as he slices one of the bales.
Chon eases off the trigger.
Heart rate drops.
206
Crowe takes out a QP package, cuts it open, and smells the dope.
Turns to Ben, smiles, says, “Jesus Christ.”
“To coin a phrase.”
