At the City's Edge (31 page)

Jason took his hands from Cruz’s hair, held them out at shoulder height. Twisted to get a leg underneath, then rose up straight
and easy. His eyes drank the landscape, looking for any advantage. The only cover were the mounds of rain-spattered dirt behind
Playboy, sloping ten-foot hills that hid the street beyond. He thought of diving for the river, but it was no kind of cover
at all. It was only in movies that bullets didn’t hurt once you hit the water.

‘You a pain in my ass, know that?’ Playboy shook his head. ‘Most people, they’d have called it a day after goin’ off the bridge.
Couldn’t believe when Curtis,’ gesturing at the tall one, ‘said he saw y’all swimming for shore. But then, you a soldier,
right?’

‘Yeah,’ Jason said softly. ‘That’s right.’

‘I feel that.’ He gestured with the pistol. ‘Toss your strap.’

‘Huh?’

Playboy rolled his eyes. ‘Your gun. Drop your gun.’

‘I don’t have one.’

The gangbanger raised the Ruger to point at Jason’s face, the black hole of the barrel sure and unblinking. Jason stared back.
‘I don’t.’

‘What’d you do with my Beretta?’

‘DiRisio and his crooked cops took it from me.’

Playboy’s eyes narrowed at that. ‘DiRisio, huh?’

‘Yeah. Same guy who hired you to grab me. Same guy who killed my brother.’

Wind stirred leaves in the reedy trees along the water’s edge. Playboy stared at him another moment, shrugged. ‘That was a
nice gun.’

‘You want to give me the one you’re holding, I’ll buy you a new Beretta.’ Trying to play cool, just like the first time they’d
met. To keep tensions from escalating. All the while, his heart vibrating against his ribs.

‘Don’t think so.’ Playboy gestured at Cruz with his free hand. ‘Stand up, sister.’

Cruz started to rise, made it halfway, then staggered. Her legs went wobbly, and she moaned and fell. Tried to catch herself,
her hands tangling up with her ankles. Jason lunged to help her, moving without thinking. She’d seemed stronger a minute ago.
Standing up must have been the problem. ‘I think she might have a concussion.’

‘Yeah?’ The voice bored.

‘She’s not part of our business.’

Playboy snorted. ‘Man, pick your bitch up.’

Jason’s fingers tingled, that old battle rush. He knew then, knew with certainty. Playboy was here to execute them.

Jason had seen it more times than he could count. Mass graves and abandoned bodies. Hands tied or cuffed, two in the head.
Sunnis at first, but before long plenty of Shi’as, too. Regular folk, mostly, caught up in a war they hadn’t chosen to fight.
Victims of political rivalries, or kidnappings, or plain evil luck. Caught beneath the wheels of circumstance and shredded
like dolls.

But knowing Playboy’s intentions didn’t change anything. They were alone in a wasteland, unarmed, and damn near helpless.
Jason grit his teeth and put an arm under Cruz’s shoulder, lifted her slowly to stand. Her weight was awkward. Her right arm
flopped behind his back, and it seemed heavy the way it hit him.

Playboy regarded them from five feet away, the gun sideways in a gangster grip.

‘You’re holding your weapon wrong,’ Jason said.

‘That a fact.’

‘Yeah. The recoil is going to throw your aim off. Hell, a big .45 like that, you might end up punching yourself in the face.’

‘Want to bet,’ rocking the hammer back with his thumb, ‘whether it’ll work or not?’

Icy water flowed through Jason’s veins. This couldn’t be the way. He hadn’t walked beneath Middle Eastern suns to die on the
banks of a shitty river. Hadn’t found Cruz just to die with her. ‘Why are you doing this?’ Fighting for time, his eyes darting.

‘Mother
fucker
.’ Playboy’s voice a chipped razor. ‘You really asking after what you did?’ He stepped forward. ‘C-Note was like my brother.
He and I been tight since we was shorties. You shoot the man in his
bathrobe
, and got the nerve to ask me why I’m doing this?’

‘I didn’t kill C-Note.’

‘Yeah, and my black ass is mayor.’ Playboy’s eyes burned. He stepped forward, the gun level with Jason’s eyes. ‘I loved that
man. Not ashamed to say it.
Nothing
I ain’t prepared to do to get those that killed him.’

‘We’re not them.’ Anger powered the truth in his voice. Bad enough to think of losing now, when they were so close. But to
die because of the handiwork of his brother’s killer? The irony was too cruel. ‘It was DiRisio killed C-Note.’

‘A man staring down a gat’ll say anything to survive.’

Cruz moaned and sagged like she were losing consciousness. Her head flopped on his shoulder, and Jason tightened his grip
on her. As he did, he felt her hand tap his back again. There was something weird about it. He looked over at her, expecting
to see dilated pupils, pale skin, the classic signs of shock and concussion.

Instead, from behind the wet hair that screened her eyes, she winked at him.

‘You know what?’ He turned back to Playboy. ‘You’re right.’

Jason moved fast, a quick lunge sideways. Brilliant fire exploded in front of him, the bullet ripping the air where his head
had been. In the sudden glow he saw the other two gangbangers scrabbling at their waists, guns coming up, and then Cruz stepped
forward and pressed a small automatic pistol under Playboy’s chin.

‘Don’t believe the movies,’ Cruz said, her posture straight and her voice steady. ‘This is a Glock 27. It’ll fire
under
water. Our little swim won’t even slow it down.’

Playboy stood frozen, his gun arm out, pointing at nothing. Jason locked the gangbanger’s arm with his right hand and twisted
the Ruger free with his left. He sighted down the barrel at Playboy’s soldiers. They had weapons up, the taller one swinging
the gun back and forth between Jason and Cruz.

In the silence, Jason could hear the rain patter on the river. Tension tightened his shoulders, made his
muscles sing. The twitchy one was making Jason nervous, swiveling back and forth between him and Cruz. ‘Curtis. You look
like a man making a decision. But stay cool for a second. I just want to talk.’

The tall man didn’t say anything, but stopped swinging the gun.

‘Now,’ Jason said, hoping his voice didn’t betray his tension, ‘it would be the easiest thing in the world for us all to open
up right now. We could all die here, beside this shitty river. But if we do, nobody gets any satisfaction. You know why?
Because we didn’t kill C-Note.
’

‘You say so.’ Playboy’s eyes were half-closed, like he couldn’t be bothered with the situation.

‘Think about it, man. Who set you on me in the first place? DiRisio. And I’ll bet you he was the one said that we killed C-Note,
wasn’t he?’ Playboy’s eyes confirmed it. ‘I thought so. How’d he know a thing like that? The cops hadn’t even left the scene,
he knows what’s going on?’

‘Street knows what it knows.’

‘Does the street know that DiRisio is also selling hardware to La Raza and the Latin Saints? You didn’t think you were the
only ones getting some of his love, did you? He’s arming your enemies.’

Playboy shrugged. ‘Says you.’

‘You want proof?’ Jason gestured to the river. ‘Go for a swim. It’s in the back of the car you drove off the bridge. We were
going to use it to take DiRisio down.’

‘Not just him,’ Cruz said quietly. ‘A dirty cop, too. Tom Galway. He works gangs.’

‘That a fact.’

‘It is.’ Jason stepped forward. ‘They killed your boy, then sent you to finish us before we brought them down. Hell, this
way they don’t even have to get their hands dirty. You’ve been conned, man. We all have.’

Playboy narrowed his eyes, then reached into his pocket. Cruz pushed the Glock harder into his neck. He looked down at her
with a bulletproof smile. ‘Easy.’ Took his hand out slowly, turning it up to display a pack of Pall Mall Menthols and a green
Bic. Pulled out a cigarette and lit it casually, using both hands, like he were chilling in a club instead of standing on
the bank of a polluted river with a pistol at his throat. ‘Saying that’s so. What then?’

‘We’re going to go take care of him.’

Playboy shook his head, blew smoke. ‘Can’t let you two walk out of here.’

Cruz laughed. ‘You’re not letting us. We’re walking. The question is whether you are.’

Playboy shrugged. ‘Ain’t afraid to die.’

‘I believe you,’ Jason said. ‘But I also think you’re not stupid. DiRisio killed your friend. He’s equipping your enemies.
He’s just as much a problem for you as he is for us. But he’s got connections, so you can’t take him on directly. We can.
Him and a dirty cop.’ Jason shrugged. ‘There’s no angle to killing us.’

‘Unless y’all are lying to me.’

Something tightened in Jason’s chest. This would
be the most dangerous part. ‘You’re right. After all, a man will say anything when he’s at gunpoint.’ He swallowed hard,
then slowly lowered the Ruger. Lightning raced up his thighs. He locked the safety, then, adrenaline shaking the world, spun
the pistol butt first and held it out to Playboy. ‘So we’re clear, I don’t like you, man. But you’re not my enemy, and I’m
not yours.’

Cruz looked at him wild-eyed. ‘What?’

‘It’s okay, Elena. Let him free.’ Jason kept his eyes locked on Playboy’s. ‘Go ahead. It’s not a trick.’

The gangbanger looked at the gun, looked at Cruz. She had her teeth clenched, the line of her jaw hard. She seemed unsure.
He didn’t blame her, but she could still blow it.

‘Elena.’ Jason spoke softly. ‘I need you to trust me.’

She stiffened. He could see her wrestling with it. Then, slowly, she stepped away. Kept the gun in her hand, but lowered.

Playboy’s eyes moved back and forth between them. His lids were narrowed, but not in the half-asleep pose he’d been affecting.
He reached up slowly and took the pistol.

‘I’m giving you this because I want you to know that we aren’t lying.’ Jason spoke quietly. ‘We didn’t kill C-Note.’ His heart
was pounding. The safety would slow Playboy down enough for Jason to tackle him, but his friends were the real problem. Jason
was counting on them following their boss’s lead. If they didn’t…

Playboy took a last drag on the cigarette, then flicked it away. He held the gun at his side, his arm loose. Tilted his head
up so the rain ran down his shaved skull. ‘And you’re going to take care of DiRisio.’

‘And Galway. And everybody in with them.’

‘If y’all are playing me –’

‘You’re a general now,’ Jason said. ‘You got a hundred soldiers standing behind you. We know what happens if we play you.’

The man nodded slow. ‘Guess that’s so.’ He tucked the Ruger into the back of his pants, and Jason started breathing again.

Then the wrestler cocked his pistol. ‘Fuck
that.
Let’s take care of business.’ Beside him, Curtis nodded, his gun aimed at Jason’s chest. Cruz brought her Glock back up,
holding it beautifully, two hands, legs spread in a target-shooter stance.

‘Nah. Man’s got a point. Besides,’ and Playboy smiled a thin, brutal smile, ‘not like we can’t find him again. Him and his
little nephew.’

Jason felt his lips twitching, fought the urge to close his hands into fists.

The wrestler said, ‘I say we –’

‘I ask your opinion, motherfucker?’ Playboy glared at him. ‘Man, I’ve had crotch lice got more brains than you, you’re going
to tell me what to do?’

‘No, but –’

‘But what,
bitch?
’

The wrestler straightened at that, his nostrils flaring. Glared at Playboy, a hard look between hard men.
If this went wrong, Jason knew, then things were going to get ugly. Bullets flying, everybody shooting at everybody, who
knew who’d get hit.

Finally, the wrestler looked away. ‘It’s your world.’

‘Goddamn right. It’s my world.’ Playboy held the stare for a moment, then turned to Jason. ‘So we’re clear, I don’t much like
you either.’ The gangbanger reached in his pocket, pulled out his cigarettes. Shook one out slow, held it to his lips, fired
it up with the Bic. ‘But keep your end of this, and we ’aight.’

‘You come after me or mine again, we’re going to mix it up.’

‘Do right, I won’t have to.’ In the distance, a siren wailed. Playboy glanced over his shoulder. ‘Now. Do yourself a favor
and don’t be leaving for a bit. I see you coming after us, might be I take that the wrong way.’

Jason nodded.

Playboy turned and walked away, his cross-trainers carving trenches in the soft mud. Curtis and the wrestler followed him,
walking backwards with guns out. Jason stood with his skin vibrating until they were out of sight.

Then he heaved a sigh. ‘Jesus.’

Cruz stared at him. ‘How’d you know that would work?’

‘Playboy thinks he’s a soldier. Long as we had the upper hand, he couldn’t back down. But if we’re two soldiers talking about
a mutually beneficial arrangement, well, that’s different.’

She shook her head. ‘Boys. You’re all just little boys with guns.’

‘You only figuring that out now?’ Jason shook out his shoulders. Felt that familiar lightness, relief and tension mingling.
The siren grew closer. Dealing with Playboy had only been a distraction. They still had their real work ahead of them. And
now they didn’t have the evidence to make it safe.

One step at a time, soldier. That’s how the march works.

‘Speaking of guns,’ he said, and stared pointedly at her. ‘For two days I’ve been wishing we had one, and for two days you’ve
been awfully quiet about yours.’

Cruz shrugged. Hiked up one pant leg, then bent to strap the Glock into the ankle holster she’d slipped it out of while pretending
to faint. When she straightened, a smile tugged at one corner of her lips.

She said, ‘I’m working on my trust issues.’

The boy was playing with the gun, and the sight twisted something in Washington.

Billy leaned against a heavy oak bureau that had been in the room as long as Washington could remember. He was hunched in
the classic hiding position, plastic pistol held in both extended arms. Rain lashed the window in blinding sheets, and yellow
headlights rolled slowly by. Billy tracked them with the gun, steady and slow. Pulled the trigger: once, twice, then threefourfive.
‘Gotcha,’ he muttered, and swung the pistol back.