Indigo Slam

  Clark jerked his arm away and came back into the room. 'Where are they?'

  'At a friend's.'

  Dak told the younger guy to get Clark out of there again, and when the younger guy grabbed his arm, Clark swatted at him. 'Get away from me!'

  I looked back at Dak. 'I've got his children, goddamnit. Shooters from Seattle are down here looking for him, and he knows it's a fact.' I looked back at Clark. 'The Russians killed Wilson Brownell, and that means they know everything that he knows.'

  Clark's face worked. 'They killed Wil?'

  The AK screamed again, and this time he shoved past the others and leveled the gun at us. When he did, Clark shrieked, 'No!' and lurched forward, shoving him away. Both Walters and the other Viets swarmed around him, and Dak slapped him hard, twice. Clark didn't quit. He punched at Dak, throwing awkward punches with nothing on them, but he kept throwing them until a Walter hung onto each arm and a third man had him around the neck. Clark was just full of surprises.

  Pike said, 'Payback's going to hurt.'

  The three men pulled Clark out of the way, and Dak waved at us, saying, 'Kill them.'

  Clark said, 'If you kill them I won't print your goddamned dong.' Vietnamese money is called dong.

  Dak's face went dark, and he shook Clark's arm. 'You agreed to print for us and you will make the money!'

  Clark said, 'Like hell I will.' When he said it a little bit of spit hit Dak on the shirt.

  The AK had had enough with all the talk. He pushed past Dak and ran at us again, barking in Vietnamese. When he did, Dak yelled 'No!' and grabbed him from behind.

  Dak and the AK and the other two older guys shoved and screamed at each other, and I knew what it was about. They were revolutionaries, but they were also businessmen with families and property and things they would lose if they were discovered. They were shouting about killing us, and it was clear that they wanted to. Pike tensed beside me, probably thinking that if the younger shotgunners looked at the older guys he would come out of the chair and risk the charge, maybe hit the near guy hard enough to knock free the gun, maybe get the gun and do some damage even with his hands tied behind his back.

  Helluva morning. Drive down to Orange County to die.

  I said, 'Clark, whatever Brownell knew, the Russians know. They'll have your address and phone number, and that gives them a place to start looking. If I can find you, they can find you, too.'

  Clark was nodding, trying to hear me past all the yelling. A faint sheen of sweat covered his face, and he looked pale and more than a little nauseated. I thought that even with the dope whatever was eating him up must hurt like hell.

  I said, 'I've got the kids stashed in a safe place, but you're going to have to do something. Either go back into the program or get out of town.'

  Clark was looking from me to the Viets, me to the Viets, over and over again. 'I need this money.' Whatever they were paying him to do the job.

  'Clark, what good's the money if they murder your children?'

  All the screaming had peaked, and Dak jerked the AK away from the other guy and used it to shove Clark toward the door, screaming, 'We have the paper now, we have the machines! Go into the other room and print the dong!'

  But Clark didn't go into the other room. He grabbed hold of the AK, and shouted, 'I'm not going anywhere! If you kill them I won't print your money.'

  Dak was breathing so hard he sounded like a bellows.

  One of the other guys ran up beside him and tried to wrestle the AK away but Dak shouted a single Vietnamese word and the man stopped. Now they were both breathing loud, and Clark was breathing loud, too. Clark grabbed Dak by the front of his jacket and shook him. Clark's face was so pale I thought he might keel over. He shouted, 'My children are in danger and these men are taking care of them.' He looked back at me. 'If they let you go, you won't tell, will you?'

  'No.'

  'You won't stop me from printing the dong?'

  'Clark, if they let us go, we'll do everything we can to help.' I wanted Clark Hewitt to get his money.

  The other man shouted and Dak raised the gun. Dak was shouting, too, and with all the shouting I thought that no one could understand anything and that the moment had taken on an inevitable life of its own. I thought that Dak would shoot right through Clark, the 7.62 mm bullets ripping through Clark into me and Pike and ending us all, but then the shouting stopped and Dak muttered a single coarse Vietnamese curse, and he looked at me with an expression of infinite weariness. He said, 'All right.'

  He told Dak to cut us loose.

  My heart began to beat again.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 26

  The one named Mon didn't like it. He stomped around, waving the AK and making a big scene until Nguyen Dak slapped him and took the gun away. The others started shouting and arguing, but when Dak finally had them quiet, he said, 'Make the dong and let's be done with this.'

  I said, 'How long will it take to print the dong?'

  Clark frowned. 'Well, after I make the plates, a couple of days.'

  'How long start to finish?'

  'Three days.'

  'Okay. Your children can stay with you here while you print the dong, and you can decide what you want to do.' I wanted to get the kids out of LA, and I was hoping that I could work on getting Clark and his children back into the witness protection program while he was down here guarded by Dak's people. 'When you have the money you can leave from here without going back to Los Angeles. That way it's a clean miss for the Russians.'

  Clark was liking it. 'That sounds good.' He turned to Dak. 'We'll have to go to Los Angeles to get my family.'

  Dak shook his head. 'Absolutely not. Print the money first, then do what you want.'

  I said, 'Forget it, Dak. His kids are in danger as long as they're in Los Angeles. So is he.'

  Dak glared at Clark. 'You agreed to make the dong.

  We've bought the press and the materials. We have an enormous investment.'

  Clark frowned. 'I'm still going to do it. I'll make the dong when I get back.'

  Dak shook his head again. Adamant. 'No dong, no money.'

  'I'll make the dong. I just want to get my children.'

  Dak waved at me and Pike. 'You stay and make the dong. They can go get the children.'

  Clark pursed his lips and scowled, and suddenly I could see Charles in him. 'No, I'm their father and I'm going to get them.'

  I said, 'They're just up in Studio City, for chrissake. It's not like they're on Mars.'

  Dak put his hands on his hips.

  'We're talking about three hours round-trip.'

  'No.'

  I spread my hands. 'Look, if you're that scared Clark won't come back, why don't you come with us.'

  Pike stared at me.

  Dak huddled with the other Viets. There was more handwaving, but this time no one was shouting or pointing a gun at us. I guess they were getting used to the idea. Finally Dak came back to us and said, 'All right. Let's go get them.'

  Pike sighed. 'Now it's 'us.' '

  Dak looked at Pike. 'We have a large investment here that's worthless if he doesn't come back. We're going to protect it.'

  Pike shook his head and stared at the floor.

  I said, 'Clark, are you up to this?' He looked pale and clammy, and I was wondering just how much longer he could stay on his feet. He looked like he should be in a hospital.

  Clark Hewitt pulled away from me. 'I'm fine. Just let me get my bag.' His drugs were in the bag.

  They made me draw a map detailing how we would get to the safe house, and then we left, Dak and the two Walters following in Dak's Mercedes, Mon riding with us. The other guys stayed to guard the warehouse. I wasn't sure from whom, but you never know. Mon seemed sullen and resentful, and made sure we all knew he had a pistol tucked in his pants. He must've been something when he was younger.

  We drove in silence for the first twenty minutes or so. I glanced in the rearview mirror at Clark every few minutes, but all
he did was stare at the passing scenery without really seeing it. 'Clark, why didn't you tell someone about the cancer?'

  He still didn't look at me. 'How do you know about that?'

  'We found the letter from your doctor.'

  He nodded.

  'Does Teri know?'

  'How could I tell them something like that?'

  Pike said, 'You shoot dope for the pain.'

  Clark glanced at Pike. It was the first time he had turned from the window. 'I don't have health insurance, and I can't afford prescription painkillers. Dealers buy and sell their drugs with cash, and they rarely put anything in the bank, so I just use the funny money.'

  I looked at him some more. Even in the mirror I could see the faint sheen of sweat that covered his face. He was pale and he looked nauseated. 'Does it help?'

  'Not as much as it used to.'

  Pike said, 'How long?'

  Clark turned back to the window, almost as if he was embarrassed. 'A few months.' He shrugged. Like that was the way he'd found to deal with it. Shrug and keep going.

  'That's why you're printing for these guys,'

  'I don't have any savings. I don't have insurance. I had to do something to take care of my children, and this is it. Printing is all I know how to do.'

  'Sure.'

  'I print the dong, and Dak will pay me real money that I can put into a bank. Enough to get them grown and through school. Maybe even enough for college.' He nodded to himself as he said it, almost as if he was saying it because he needed to hear it to keep himself going, telling himself that it would all work out, that his kids would be fine. It made me want to cry,

  'You don't have family who can take them?'

  'My wife and I were both only children. Our parents are dead.' Another shrug. 'They don't have anyone but me.' He finally looked at me through the mirror. 'I want you to know how much I appreciate everything that you've done. You're a very nice man.'

  I stared at the road.

  'When I get paid I'll pay you for all this.'

  I stared harder and nodded.

  We made good time in the late afternoon traffic, and would've made even better time except that the Mercedes kept falling behind. After about the eighth time, I said, 'What's wrong with that guy?'

  Mon said, 'Dak won't go over the speed limit.'

  'He's willing to kill us to protect his revolution, but he won't break the speed limit.'

  'Dak wants to be a good American.'

  I could see Pike out the corner of my eye. Shaking his head.

  Clark said, 'These people aren't criminals. They're revolutionaries.'

  'Sure. Counterfeiting dong.'

  'They have this idea that if they put a lot of counterfeit money into the Vietnamese economy, it will destabilize the Communist government and force Vietnam toward a democracy.'

  Pike said, 'Patriots.'

  Clark shrugged. 'It was their country. They want it back.' Same thing Eddie Ditko had said.

  I asked Clark if he wanted to stop at their house first, but he said no. I asked if there was anything we could get for him at the drugstore, but he said no again. He just wanted to pick up his children and go back to Orange County and print the dong. He sounded tired when he said it.

  'I've got a doctor friend, Clark.'

  'It wouldn't do any good.' Like he wanted to bed down and go to sleep for a long time.

  I drove harder, and kept waving Dak faster. Dak didn't like it much, but as long as I didn't go too fast he kept up.

  The late afternoon rush caught us in Hollywood and traffic began to back up, but twenty minutes later we were through the Cahuenga Pass and dropping off the freeway into Studio City. When I exited the freeway at Coldwater Canyon in Studio City, Clark sat up and seemed more alert. I wondered at the dull ache he must live with, and what it must be like for him to keep it muted by shooting drugs. Jasper was right. There was a lot more to Clark than it seemed.

  Clark said, 'Are we close?'

  'Yes.'

  Two minutes later I parked at the curb in a spot that left room for Dak's Mercedes, and then the four of us climbed out of Pike's Jeep. Dak jerked his thumb at the building, and Mon said, 'Let's go.'

  Clark was walking fine, though every once in a while he made a little wince. The cancer.

  We reached the condo, knocked twice, and waited for Teri to unlatch her door. It should have been a surprise homecoming, and it should've been nice, but it wasn't.

  Teri opened the door the third time I knocked, and I knew something was wrong. 'Teri.'

  Her eyes made little round O's when she saw Clark. 'Daddy!'

  Clark said, 'Hi, sweetie.'

  Teri, what's wrong?'

  Teri's eyes filled and she threw her arms around Clark and wailed. 'Charles ran away.'

  * * *

  CHAPTER 27

  Mon ran back to the Mercedes, and the rest of us went inside, Clark with an arm around Teri. Winona jumped off the couch when she saw Clark and ran to him, shrieking and grabbing him around the waist. Guess she wasn't all that worried about Charles, or maybe she was just that much happier to see her father. I said, 'How long has Charles been gone?'

  Teri wiped her nose. 'Since before lunch.' It was after three now.

  'Do you know where he went?'

  'Uh-uh.' She wiped her eyes again. 'He said he wanted to look around the building. He said he'd be back soon, but he never came back.'

  I gave her a hug and tried to look confident. 'It's okay, kiddo. We'll find him.' Charles might be anywhere.

  Mon came back with Dak and the two Walters, and nobody looked happy. They stood in a little clump in the front door, Dak angry and firm. 'Now what?'

  'Clark's son is missing.'

  Dak glared at me as if I had to be kidding.

  'We can't just drive away. We have to find him.'

  Dak looked angrier still. 'You said this wouldn't take long. You said we would pick them up and leave.'

  Teri had stopped sniffling and was looking at Dak and his pals. She said, 'Who are these people?'

  Clark said, 'These are the men I'm working for, honey.' Like they were Sears, and had a great retirement plan.

  I said, 'What can we do, just leave him?'

  Dak stalked past me, slumped onto the living room couch, and shook his head. Walter Senior and Walter Junior sat next to him. Mon stood by the coffee table and gave Dak a smug smile, the look saying 'I told you so.' They talked among themselves, then Dak sighed and looked defeated. 'Describe the boy and we will help you look for him.'

  Teri told us that Charles was wearing big shorts and the black Wolverine T-shirt, and after a bit the four Viets left, Dak telling them to meet back at the condo in thirty minutes. Revolutionary operation.

  I said, 'Did Charles take anything with him?'

  Teri said, 'No.'

  'Winona?'

  Winona shook her head without looking at me.

  'Did he say anything about the park or a 7-Eleven or anything like that?' The Russians didn't know where we were and had no reason to be in Studio City, so I wasn't worried about them. The Studio City Park was a block away, and two convenience stores were within a couple of blocks. The convenience stores would have video games and magazines and comic books, any of which would be an ideal way to kill a few hours if Charles was bored.

  Teri said no and Winona shook her head again.

  Pike and I split up. I cruised the park, getting out of the car and walking around the community center they have there. Half a dozen moms with babies were in the sand pit, but none of them had seen a boy matching Charles's description. Eight guys were playing basketball, but they hadn't seen Charles either. I cruised the surrounding streets, then stopped at the little market and the two convenience stores, again describing Charles and again being told that no one matching that description had been around.

  Thirty-eight minutes after I left the safe house, I was back, and so were the Viets and Joe Pike, and none of us had found Charles or anyone who had seen him
. When I came in empty-handed, Nguyen Dak put his face in his hands. More delay. Teri said, 'Didn't you find him?'

  'Not yet. But we will.' I was thinking that if Charles had met another kid here in the complex, he had probably gone home with that kid to hang out. Probably playing Sega right now. I told Clark what I was thinking. 'You and the girls could go down to Long Beach with Dak, and I can wait here. When Charles shows up, I'll join you.'

  Dak stood. 'That's an excellent idea.' I think he smiled for the first time in hours.

  Clark considered it, but didn't seem convinced. 'Well, maybe.'

  Teri said, 'What's in Long Beach?' You could hear an edge in her voice. Tired of always moving. Tired of all the new places.

  Clark said, 'That's where I work, honey.'

  Winona looked uneasy. 'I want to go home.'

  I shook my head. 'If you need anything there, Joe and I will pick it up for you. Best if you guys go straight to Long Beach.'

  Winona looked even more uneasy, and picked at her shoe. 'I think we should go home first.'

  I stared at her. Teri looked at her, too. 'Winona, you know something?'

  'No.' Stubborn.

  The muscles in my shoulders and neck tightened, and now I didn't like what I was thinking. Now what I was thinking scared me. 'Winona, did Charles say anything to you?'

  She shook her head.

  'Did Charles tell you that he was going home?'

  She picked harder at the shoe and a little piece of rubber came away. 'Charles said he'd beat me up if I said.' Charles.

  Joe said, 'Little girl.'

  Winona snuck a glance at him. Joe was standing against the wall with his arms crossed, eyes dark and hidden behind the glasses. If you were Winona's size he probably looked twelve feet tall. He said, 'I'll protect you.'

  Winona still wasn't happy about telling. 'He said he thought waiting around here was dumb because we all knew that Daddy would come home. He said he was going to go wait for him.'

  Clark said, 'Oh, dear.'

  Winona said, 'He made me give him my key.' The little troll key ring.