easier if we just shoot him or put a bomb in his house. Why not just jump ahead? Darwin would approve of this plan. And so would Sam.”
Fortunately, Sam was off getting information on Junior and wasn’t there to nod his head or tip his beer in assent. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in a position to really start arguing with Fiona, seeing as I was on my back and attempting to unscrew the elbow joint of her sink. Since she’s prone to sudden violence, I thought it would be wise to keep things, you know, calm.
“I see your point,” I said. “But no.” I finally popped the joint, and a slow drip of water came out. I reached into the pipe and pulled out what looked to be clogging her drain: an eight-inch knife that could gut Big-foot. “Have you been looking for this?”
“I knew I left it somewhere,” she said.
“Were you expecting ninjas to come after your stamp collection?”
“Michael, you can never have enough sharp objects in your home. You know that.” She took the knife from my hand and admired it a bit. “I bought this in Switzerland. It can cut meat, vegetables or human flesh with equal acuity.”
“That’s wonderful.” I rescrewed the joints together and then stood up.
“Anyway,” she said. “My point here, Michael, is it would be nice not to play these games. You’re always saying you want your job back. Yet you never exactly used due process when you were a spy.”
“Which is precisely why I can’t go put a bullet in Junior’s head,” I said.
“But it was so much sexier when you could,” she said.
“I guess we all lose, then,” I said. I went into Fi’s fridge and pulled out two beers and a blueberry yogurt I’d left a few days previous. It’s always smart to store rations in a safe place. I opened Fi’s sliding door and stepped out onto her patio and sat down at her picnic table. It was just after seven in the evening, and there were a few people out on the water in small boats, oblivious to the plots and scenarios of the bad people. That wouldn’t be such a horrible thing, I suppose.
A few minutes later, Fiona came out with a plate of fruit and some cheese.
“I thought you were making dinner,” I said. “I thought that was why I had to fix your sink.”
“No, you had to fix my sink because I asked you and you’re unable to say no to me.” She pushed the plate toward me. “Eat some solid food. It will be a shock to your system.”
I took a piece of cheese and gnawed on one corner.
“Something the matter, Michael?”
“I’m a little concerned about the fact Junior has cops on the take. That’s not good for Eduardo, but it really isn’t good for us, either. Last thing we need is some crooked cop deciding to make a name for himself by arresting someone like you.”
“They’d never take me alive,” she said.
“Fi, that’s noble, but let’s not get crazy here,” I said.
“I didn’t mean that I’d die,” she said. “I meant that they’d never be able to take me and live.”
“Great.”
“Does Sam know anyone on the police force?”
“Not really,” I said. “At least not since that trouble we ran into.” A rather adept Miami officer, Detective Paxon, thought she might find something of interest in my life a few months earlier—turns out that if you blow up half the city and leave a few bodies on the streets of Miami, eventually people tend to notice—and since then, Sam was a bit worried about his contacts there. But it’s not as if a bad cop sits around the locker room, telling everyone about the great gig he has working for a prison gang. “If Junior has cops working for him,” I continued, “I’m going to guess that it’s not as easy as paying someone off to deliver messages or look the other way when crimes are being committed.”
“You think the Latin Emperors have a mole in the police?”
“Moles. That’s what I’d do. Hell, that’s what I do . It would make sense for the long-term survival of the gang—get some boys loyal
Fortunately, Sam was off getting information on Junior and wasn’t there to nod his head or tip his beer in assent. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in a position to really start arguing with Fiona, seeing as I was on my back and attempting to unscrew the elbow joint of her sink. Since she’s prone to sudden violence, I thought it would be wise to keep things, you know, calm.
“I see your point,” I said. “But no.” I finally popped the joint, and a slow drip of water came out. I reached into the pipe and pulled out what looked to be clogging her drain: an eight-inch knife that could gut Big-foot. “Have you been looking for this?”
“I knew I left it somewhere,” she said.
“Were you expecting ninjas to come after your stamp collection?”
“Michael, you can never have enough sharp objects in your home. You know that.” She took the knife from my hand and admired it a bit. “I bought this in Switzerland. It can cut meat, vegetables or human flesh with equal acuity.”
“That’s wonderful.” I rescrewed the joints together and then stood up.
“Anyway,” she said. “My point here, Michael, is it would be nice not to play these games. You’re always saying you want your job back. Yet you never exactly used due process when you were a spy.”
“Which is precisely why I can’t go put a bullet in Junior’s head,” I said.
“But it was so much sexier when you could,” she said.
“I guess we all lose, then,” I said. I went into Fi’s fridge and pulled out two beers and a blueberry yogurt I’d left a few days previous. It’s always smart to store rations in a safe place. I opened Fi’s sliding door and stepped out onto her patio and sat down at her picnic table. It was just after seven in the evening, and there were a few people out on the water in small boats, oblivious to the plots and scenarios of the bad people. That wouldn’t be such a horrible thing, I suppose.
A few minutes later, Fiona came out with a plate of fruit and some cheese.
“I thought you were making dinner,” I said. “I thought that was why I had to fix your sink.”
“No, you had to fix my sink because I asked you and you’re unable to say no to me.” She pushed the plate toward me. “Eat some solid food. It will be a shock to your system.”
I took a piece of cheese and gnawed on one corner.
“Something the matter, Michael?”
“I’m a little concerned about the fact Junior has cops on the take. That’s not good for Eduardo, but it really isn’t good for us, either. Last thing we need is some crooked cop deciding to make a name for himself by arresting someone like you.”
“They’d never take me alive,” she said.
“Fi, that’s noble, but let’s not get crazy here,” I said.
“I didn’t mean that I’d die,” she said. “I meant that they’d never be able to take me and live.”
“Great.”
“Does Sam know anyone on the police force?”
“Not really,” I said. “At least not since that trouble we ran into.” A rather adept Miami officer, Detective Paxon, thought she might find something of interest in my life a few months earlier—turns out that if you blow up half the city and leave a few bodies on the streets of Miami, eventually people tend to notice—and since then, Sam was a bit worried about his contacts there. But it’s not as if a bad cop sits around the locker room, telling everyone about the great gig he has working for a prison gang. “If Junior has cops working for him,” I continued, “I’m going to guess that it’s not as easy as paying someone off to deliver messages or look the other way when crimes are being committed.”
“You think the Latin Emperors have a mole in the police?”
“Moles. That’s what I’d do. Hell, that’s what I do . It would make sense for the long-term survival of the gang—get some boys loyal
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