Cobra Clearance (22 page)

A minute later however, a long-limbed girl with sun-bronzed skin and violet eyes swept in and sat next to him. A
University of New Mexico
sweatshirt clung revealingly to her breasts, and her jeans spoke proudly of hips that ached for release. The men turned as one to ogle her as she tapped a long manicured fingernail against Levi's labret and gave her head a casual toss, sending her dark hair flying. “Love the piercings. Very raffish.”

He examined her with jaded eyes. “Out slumming?”

Unperturbed, she edged closer. “So I like thugs. Sue me.”

“You're boring as hell. Now get lost.”

“Please tell me you're available.”

“You don't want what I got ‘available' for rich college babes.”

She ran a finger up and down the edge of his open shirt. “Maybe I do.”

“Maybe you'll cry for mommy.”

“Maybe I'll beg for more.”

“You'll beg me to stop.”

“Prove it.”

He said in a low, menacing voice, “The harder you cry the harder I'm gonna nail it. An' tough titty when you can't take it no more.”

Her nostrils flared. “You're quite cruel, is that it?” She dropped her hand to his thigh and squeezed it. “I'm parked out front—and I've got some fabulous nose candy.”

When he made eye contact she smirked, stood and strolled out the front door.

Levi drummed his fingers against the beer glass. Then after glancing at a scowling Brenda, he gulped the rest of the beer and ambled out the back door.

Brenda ventured outside thirty minutes later and found them naked, twisting and squirming in the back seat of a blue Trans Am. The windows were fogged but a blurred image moved with Eric's rhythm. She stepped forward and saw his knit cap, then heard the pulsing bass of his favorite stoner music—along with the girl's guttural grunts and cries. It was him, alright. Brenda gnawed at her lip. She knew he would fool around but never dreamed he'd be so blatant. Her humiliation complete, she now felt certain that he took a woman to their bed the other night. She watched and listened a while longer until something turned in her. Vowing vengeance, she stormed off.

Levi let out a groan at that exact moment and said to the woman, “There she goes. Christ, she's gonna go ballistic.”

“That's my bet. And you'll have to be a total cad about it. She'll expect that.”

“Yeah, I'll have to be downright vulgar.” He swore. “Okay. Where were we?”

Monica picked up the thread of her report on the failed surveillance, then told him about the raid on Kalil's flat and the subsequent discovery of a thumb drive. “Kalil's schoolwork is on it, along with aerial photos of the White House. Analysts are studying the drive for coded messages.”

Monica had parked her car at the far end of the lot away from any lights, and Levi looked through the windshield at the car that Brenda had approached. He could see that the couple inside were still busy. After telling her about getting dosed with heroin, he reported his war game scenario with Kruger and its unconcealed plot to kidnap or kill the president. “It helps connect him to Amahl, but…” Turning to Monica, he glanced at her sweatshirt. “UNM, huh? Good ruse, getting me outta the bar that way.”

“Even better than the time I pulled it on you in Dublin.”

“Yep, sure was.” Getting out of the car and sticking to the shadows, he made his way to the cabin. After taking a shower he lay on the bed and settled in to think. There were key elements to the puzzle—Kruger's racist policies, the links between him and Amahl; the tactics the men practiced. Now the thumb drive. But he lacked probable cause of a conspiracy. He had to dig deeper and needed to do it now.

When Brenda came to bed she asked in a tight voice, “Still up?” Looking him over, she touched the new mark on his arm. “This is fresh. You shoot up today?”

Pantomiming a syringe in his arm, he gave her a look. “At work.”

“Hmm.” She peered into his eyes. “An' now you're coked-up. Ain't you?”

“Yeah, well…I ended up partying with that babe.” He sniffed and rubbed his nose. “Damn, she wasn't kidding 'bout the blow. It
was damn good. She gave me a good blowjob, too. Mmm, yeah…” He shifted his hips. “But I didn't have no Hallmark card to say thanks. So I fucked her brains out for her.”

“Bastard.” She glared at him.

“Bastard, huh? Tell you what. I'm gonna bring her here next time an' do both a you.” He regarded her with hooded eyes. “Now call me a bastard again.”

She stared at his damp flaccid hair, then reached between his legs. After bringing him to arousal she mounted him and pinned his wrists to the pillow. “Go ahead. Screw other women. But when I'm done an' you're
real
sleepy…” She paused as he locked eyes with her. Then with a cunning smile she began working her hips.

AMAHL AND KALIL LEFT THE INN
and stepped into the bright streets of Marseilles. They made no effort toward disguise and walked to the docks as if they'd lived here all their lives. There were no officials in sight, but in any event they carried impeccable papers identifying them as able bodied seamen about to embark on a fishing expedition. When they stepped aboard a seventy foot vessel the captain nodded to them, then gave the order to cast off. Once out of the harbor, the captain turned the boat due south against a fresh salt breeze toward Africa. As the choppy waves thudded against the hull he adjusted the throttles and settled into the journey to a rendezvous point.

LATER, AFTER THE SEX
, Levi felt a pinch and jerked awake. But Brenda had already shot him full of heroin, and seconds later the mega-dose sent him into cardiac arrest. Clutching his chest, he sat up wide-eyed—and saw her snoring at his side. Done in by struggling to stay awake so she couldn't ambush him, he'd fallen into a half-sleep and a full nightmare.

T
ucker gathered everyone inside his Albuquerque hotel room. “Levi's on to something, so the Bureau's putting together an undercover package for Wild Bill.”

Baker cleared his throat. “We also need operatives inside the bar, in case Mr. Hart has breaking news to deliver. Just a suggestion. It's your ship and you're the captain.”

STIFLING A YAWN, LEVI TRUDGED
beneath bright, warming April skies to the range. He and the men fired a variety of assault weapons while the winds diminished to a low grumble. At noon, the range master handed him a message to report to Kruger.

He entered the spartan office and found Kruger talking to a tall, gangly stranger whose head was concealed inside a hooded sweat shirt. Levi asked, “What's up, Boss?”

Kruger flicked a finger at the stranger. “I want you to meet Brian.” He let out a brittle laugh. “He's my dog soldier.”

Levi watched with interest as Brian pulled away his hood. He was in his early twenties and fine-boned, with sharp blue eyes. His head was shaved. A black Swastika adorned his forehead. His face was home to six piercings, and a large silver ring through his septum reached his upper lip. Finally, he wore a red leather dog collar around his neck, secured in place by a small padlock. Levi held out his hand. “I'm Eric.”

When he ignored Levi, Kruger said, “You know how to greet a guest. Now do it.”

Brian grimaced. Then a strangled sound emanated from him. “Arf! Arf, arf!”

“Very well. Continue. You know the routine.”

On auto-pilot now, Brian stripped and locked eyes with Levi as if to say,
Well
?

Levi felt bad for him. The slender young man's shoulders and chest were covered by spider web tattoos. Webs also encased his elbows. Levi knew it meant the wearer had been snared in a trap. Two large dumpster trucks were tattooed to his belly, their yawning receptacles directed inward as though to catch any nourishment that found its way to his stomach. Bold Swastikas adorned his biceps and emerald green SS flashes ran the length of each forearm. Brian turned around as if on cue, revealing a continuation of the spider web to the middle of his back. His legs were tattooed with flintlock pistols, 3-D dice and Aces of Spades, and a barbed wire tattoo encircled his left ankle.

Kruger said, “You may get dressed.” He then asked Levi, “What do you think?”

Levi jutted his jaw forward. “Whaddya want me to do, have kittens?”

Brian stared at Levi as if a third eye had sprouted from his forehead, but Kruger only smiled as he pulled a dog collar from a desk drawer. “This is going around your neck, along with a ring through your nose and spider webs. Once that's done, you'll be placed on a leash and taught how to bark.”

Levi understood the fine line between defiance and the demonstration of moxy. Kruger would be angered by outright disobedience, but would accept a strong position if done right. He used Kruger's respect of chutzpah and told him, “In your dreams. Sir.”

“Really? How brash of you. Well, no matter.” He shifted gears and told Brian as he finished dressing, “Take Eric with you. Give him the
straight-up about his imminent transformation from man to dog.” Picking up a rolled set of topographic maps, he looked expectantly at Levi and waited.

The tall youth flipped up the hood and his head disappeared inside like a turtle's. “Come with me.” After stepping outside he lit a Marlboro, took a deep drag and exhaled, then stuck it back in his lips. Smoke drifted from inside the hood as if from a chimney. After plunging his hands in the sweatshirt pockets, he led the way to a desolate site near the south fence line. A pair of dilapidated wooden kitchen chairs sat at the base of a shabby mesquite tree. A soft breeze rattled its branches.

Brian grabbed a chair, flopped loose-limbed onto it and stretched his long legs out, while smoke issued from the dark interior of his hood. Finally he said, “You're crazy for saying that to him.” He studied the bleak horizon and held the Marlboro motionless as a breeze carried the smoke with it. “Reg'lar people hate me.” He moved his head until the opening of his cave-like hood faced Levi. “Because of my forehead.”

“I seen plenty a guys here with Swastikas. What makes you different?”

Brian jerked the hood off with one violent motion. “'Cause I didn't want one. There's your damn difference. 'Cause Kruger's a psychopath. Or don't you get it yet?” He covered his head and waited in sullen silence, as if daring this interloper to object.

Levi played the not-so-bright role. “And the collar?”

“The Little General goes after pretty boys like you an' me. He gets his kicks by humiliating us.” He took a final drag and sent a blue plume from his hood before flicking the cigarette away. He slouched and said bitterly, “Everybody runs from me.”

Levi sensed that Brian had unwittingly stumbled into a hive of killer bees, and moving closer he gave Brian's shoulder a light punch. The young man trembled at this unexpected human touch,
and pulling off the hood he regarded Levi with heartbreaking blue eyes beneath the glaring Swastika. Then he scoffed. “You'll end up like me.”

Levi frowned. “I'm listening.”

“When a newbie's probation is over they shave their head and give 'em the first tatts.” He pointed to his forehead. “I saw what was next an' fought 'em, but there was too many. Kruger wrapped the collar 'round my neck. Said he'll have the doc castrate me if I ever take it off—an' he will. Then they tatted me up an' drove the nose ring in. Now I'm a dog.” He glared at Levi. “But I ain't nobody's bitch, if that's what you're thinking.”

“I'm thinkin' you got screwed over.”

Brian watched Levi's face carefully. Then he rolled a joint and they passed it in silence, Levi taking light hits and exhaling khaki-colored smoke against the breeze.

Levi finally asked the question, “So how come you don't leave?”

“Because Kruger will hunt me down.” He shuffled his shoes in the sand. “Kruger wants me to tell you about this guy who wanted outta the club. Kruger cut Bronk loose on him. They made me tag along.” He gestured at the wastes beyond the compound. “Bronk made him dig his own grave. Then he raped him an' put a .45 through his skull.”

Levi nodded and filed that one away for future use. “Why'd you even join?”

“I was in the Army. Mortar crewman.” He rubbed his palms against his thighs. “But they kicked me out. Weed. Then I ran into Kruger. He gave me food, beer an' girls. Well…the girls I got on my own, ya know?” A calm happiness descended upon him, but it was fleeting. “Hell, what was I supposed to do? I mean, I got nothing against coloreds. I love women, an' my best friend in the Army? Gay—an' I don't care who knows it.” He paused. “The price?” He pointed to the collar.

Levi's opinion of Brian took a sharp upswing and he rapped the backs of his knuckles against the young man's chest. “I guess you an' me's in the same fix.”

“Yeah, we are. You are. Kruger's gonna lock a collar on ya for sure. He'll give you a nose ring, too. Big as mine. Maybe bigger.”

“When?”

“Prob'ly after May. You know, after the thing goes down.” Brian dragged at the joint and passed it just as a small tumbling sage landed against his feet.

Levi took a hit, held it and finally exhaled. Then he looked at Brian through half-lidded eyes and asked with studied indifference, “So what've they got you doing?”

“I'll be on the mortar.”

After handing over the joint, Levi hunched forward. “Mortar, huh?”

Brian offered a shy smile. “I'm good with 'em. Eight one mike-mike—81 mm, ya know? Man, I can make those babies sing.” He put the joint to his lips and inhaled.

Taking it from him, Levi said, “Guess you'll do a lotta damage.”

“Well it ain't like we're gonna kill no one.”

“Of course not.”

“So you know the drill then? Yeah, Kruger's gonna show 'em who's boss.”