A Catskill Eagle

CHAPTER 33

HAWK SPENT A LOT OF TIME AMONG THE Vietnamese workers. The fact that it was against the rules meant as much to him as the fact that it was dangerous. Which is to say it meant nothing at all. Someday I would figure out exactly what did matter to Hawk. I did. Susan did. He mattered to himself. Beyond that I hadn’t got. And since I’d known him for thirty years it said something about his containment. Or my powers of perception. Or maybe that’s all there was that mattered to him… On the other hand, how come he spent so much time squatting on his haunches around the Vietnamese cook fires at night.

I asked him one evening in the bar at the Pequod House.

“Forging alliances,” he said.

“And fomenting rebellion?” I said.

“Case we need one,” he said.

I nodded. Doreen rushed past us bearing drinks, frowning slightly.

“It’ll get a lot of them killed,” I said.

Hawk nodded.

“But if we do it right we’ll have our shot at Susan,” I said.

Hawk nodded.

I drank some beer from the bottle. “What becomes of them,” I said. Hawk shrugged.

“What is becoming of them now,” I said. Hawk shrugged again.

I shook my head. “No, let’s look straight at it. I don’t care what happens to them if it gets Susan out.”

Hawk nodded.

Doreen hurried by in the other direction carrying empties on her tray. She wore the same frown of concentration. Hawk watched her.

“You in their place,” Hawk said, still looking at Doreen as she ordered drinks from the service section at the end of the bar, “you rather do what they doing now, or take a shot at fighting your way out.”

The bartender put six long-necked bottles of Pabst Blue Ribbon on Doreen’s tray, rang up the bill, put that on the tray, and Doreen charged back past us toward the big round table in the corner. The tip of her tongue showed in the corner of her mouth.

“Okay,” I said. I drank a little more beer, letting the bottle rest against my lower lip and then tilting it slowly down. “We gotta give them a chance, though. If it’s over too quick there won’t be a chance to get at Susan. We need a real battle. We need some real and extended chaos.”

“Or we need to win,” Hawk said.

I had the beer bottle halfway to my lips. I stopped and slowly put it back down. I looked at Hawk. He grinned and I felt my own face begin to broaden. We looked at each other, the smiles getting wider.

“They can take over the facility,” I said.

“Uh huh.”

“Transpan has the firepower,” I said.

“But the gooks got us,” Hawk said.

“We got the bastards cornered,” I said.

“Okay, boss,” Hawk said. “I sketch out the big picture. You fill in the details. How we going to do it.”

Doreen passed again, a faint sheen of perspiration giving tone to her forehead.

“By God,” I said, “you’re right. She is lovely.” Hawk gestured toward the bartender for two more beers.

“And getting lovelier,” he said. “But that don’t answer my question.”

“Okay,” I said. “Are they ready to go?”

“Yes,” Hawk said. “Fact I having trouble holding them down.”

“They got a leader?”

“Ky,” Hawk said.

“Can he control them?”

“Yes.”

“Can you control him?”

“For a while.”

“Can I talk with him?” I said.

“Sure.”

“We don’t really have to sweat the forces too much. They may have some personal weapons, switchblades, hideout guns; but the company weapons are in the armory every night.”

“So we secure that,” Hawk said.

“And all we have to sweat is security.”

“And the gooks outnumber security.”

“So if we get them some weapons, and secure the armory…”

“They might win,” Hawk said.

“And you and I will deal with Costigan’s bodyguards,” I said.

“And Costigan.”

I took a five-dollar bill from my pocket and left it on the bar.

“I gotta walk,” I said. “I think better walking.”

“I’ll join you,” Hawk said. “Nothing like an evening stroll on a summer night.”

“In Pequod, Connecticut,” I said, “there’s nothing else.”

“Except Doreen,” Hawk said. “True,” I said.