Read Online Spectrum (The Karen Vail Series) by Alan Jacobson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alan Jacobson
Ads: Link
eyes away, across the room, not wanting Basil to see the fear that she was sure showed on her face.
Basil cleared his throat and said, “I have to go to the bank.”
Livana gathered her apron in her hands and played with the material. “That will leave us without any money.”
“We’ll have enough for food. The newspapers.”
“So where will we live, huh? If we can’t pay our rent—”
“I don’t know, Liv!” He grasped strands of hair and massaged his scalp. “You think we shouldn’t pay?”
Tears streamed down Livana’s face. “We don’t have money for a lawyer. We can’t fight this.”
“We should just pay and be done,” Basil said. “Put it behind us.”
“Will the neighborhood put it behind them?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed and let his head drop back against the wall. “But I feel like it’s the best thing to do. It shows that we took responsibility, tried to make it right. That has to count for something.”
Dmitri climbed into his father’s lap; Cassandra stood in front of her mother until Livana spread her arms. Then she stepped forward and buried her face into Livana’s chest.
Basil closed his eyes. “I worked so hard to give us a safety net. Now it’s gone. Because of a stupid fight.”
“Go,” Livana said. “Before the bank closes. Then we’ll have to figure out where we’re going to live.”
8
>THE SOUTH BRONX
Thursday, July 6, 1995
“Fuck you, you bullshit me!” Jackson unholstered his Colt .45 pistol, as shiny as it was menacing, and shoved it up against Vail’s forehead.
“Now hang on,” Russo said. “Her sister really does work for INS. Give her the two hours, like you said you were gonna do.”
“Nah, man. She was talkin’ to SWAT. I heard her say SWAT!”
“No,” Vail said, holding her head, which was leaking blood from a jagged scalp wound. “Maggie said SWAB, not SWAT. With a ‘b.’ It’s an acronym: special ways to access borders. It’s a way INS agents take people across the border when they don’t want the newspapers and TV cameras to see. Special operations. That’s why I yelled at her. I think SWAB is too risky for you two.”
Jackson looked long and hard at Vail. “So if I call that number back they gonna answer the phone ‘INS,’ right?”
Vail looked at Russo, who maintained a poker face.
“No,” Vail said. “Not right. She works for INS, not at INS.”
McGrady raised his M16 to the base of her skull. “Yo be talkin’ shit.”
“I’m not.” Vail swallowed, trying to disguise her fear. “Maggie works on a task force to stop the smuggling of immigrants across the border. That’s why she works special operations. She’s out of the 13th Precinct. That’s who’ll answer the phone. I’m telling you the truth. Go ahead and call. You’ll see that what I’m telling you is right. They’ll answer ‘13th Precinct.’ Call ’em.”
Jackson looked at McGrady, who shrugged. A long moment later, Jackson said, “You best be tellin’ it the way it is, ’cause if I see a big old SWAT truck—with a goddamn T —pull up outside, I’m gonna unload on you.”
Our SWAT team’s part of ESU, but what does the truck actually say, SWAT or ESU? She thought SWAT was more of a West Coast term, but she could not remember. Vail licked her lips. “I’m telling you the truth. I’m not worried.”
Bullshit, I’m worried as hell.
“WE SHOULD GO,” McGrady said. “We can’t take a chance. If she set us up, we deal with her later. But we gots no reason to stay here.”
Vail shared a look with Russo. I can think of a reason.
“Let’s go,” Jackson said. “Up.” He yanked on the handcuffs and Russo groaned in pain. He stumbled to his feet and they shuffled out of the room into the hallway. “Out the back.”
Vail tried to position herself so that she could make eye contact with Russo because the moment the officers—or ESU—arrived, they would have to make a coordinated break, or their captors would certainly
Basil cleared his throat and said, “I have to go to the bank.”
Livana gathered her apron in her hands and played with the material. “That will leave us without any money.”
“We’ll have enough for food. The newspapers.”
“So where will we live, huh? If we can’t pay our rent—”
“I don’t know, Liv!” He grasped strands of hair and massaged his scalp. “You think we shouldn’t pay?”
Tears streamed down Livana’s face. “We don’t have money for a lawyer. We can’t fight this.”
“We should just pay and be done,” Basil said. “Put it behind us.”
“Will the neighborhood put it behind them?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed and let his head drop back against the wall. “But I feel like it’s the best thing to do. It shows that we took responsibility, tried to make it right. That has to count for something.”
Dmitri climbed into his father’s lap; Cassandra stood in front of her mother until Livana spread her arms. Then she stepped forward and buried her face into Livana’s chest.
Basil closed his eyes. “I worked so hard to give us a safety net. Now it’s gone. Because of a stupid fight.”
“Go,” Livana said. “Before the bank closes. Then we’ll have to figure out where we’re going to live.”
8
>THE SOUTH BRONX
Thursday, July 6, 1995
“Fuck you, you bullshit me!” Jackson unholstered his Colt .45 pistol, as shiny as it was menacing, and shoved it up against Vail’s forehead.
“Now hang on,” Russo said. “Her sister really does work for INS. Give her the two hours, like you said you were gonna do.”
“Nah, man. She was talkin’ to SWAT. I heard her say SWAT!”
“No,” Vail said, holding her head, which was leaking blood from a jagged scalp wound. “Maggie said SWAB, not SWAT. With a ‘b.’ It’s an acronym: special ways to access borders. It’s a way INS agents take people across the border when they don’t want the newspapers and TV cameras to see. Special operations. That’s why I yelled at her. I think SWAB is too risky for you two.”
Jackson looked long and hard at Vail. “So if I call that number back they gonna answer the phone ‘INS,’ right?”
Vail looked at Russo, who maintained a poker face.
“No,” Vail said. “Not right. She works for INS, not at INS.”
McGrady raised his M16 to the base of her skull. “Yo be talkin’ shit.”
“I’m not.” Vail swallowed, trying to disguise her fear. “Maggie works on a task force to stop the smuggling of immigrants across the border. That’s why she works special operations. She’s out of the 13th Precinct. That’s who’ll answer the phone. I’m telling you the truth. Go ahead and call. You’ll see that what I’m telling you is right. They’ll answer ‘13th Precinct.’ Call ’em.”
Jackson looked at McGrady, who shrugged. A long moment later, Jackson said, “You best be tellin’ it the way it is, ’cause if I see a big old SWAT truck—with a goddamn T —pull up outside, I’m gonna unload on you.”
Our SWAT team’s part of ESU, but what does the truck actually say, SWAT or ESU? She thought SWAT was more of a West Coast term, but she could not remember. Vail licked her lips. “I’m telling you the truth. I’m not worried.”
Bullshit, I’m worried as hell.
“WE SHOULD GO,” McGrady said. “We can’t take a chance. If she set us up, we deal with her later. But we gots no reason to stay here.”
Vail shared a look with Russo. I can think of a reason.
“Let’s go,” Jackson said. “Up.” He yanked on the handcuffs and Russo groaned in pain. He stumbled to his feet and they shuffled out of the room into the hallway. “Out the back.”
Vail tried to position herself so that she could make eye contact with Russo because the moment the officers—or ESU—arrived, they would have to make a coordinated break, or their captors would certainly
Similar Books
