Dawn Patrol

129

Johnny goes back upstairs.

Lieutenant Gilman is standing beside the prisoners, who are sitting on the floor, their arms cuffed behind them. Three men, two women.

“Whoever they had here,” Johnny whispers to her, “they're gone.”

She looks to him and Harrington. “Do what you need to do.”

Harrington steps over to one of the skells, who made the mistake of making eye contact. He lifts him to his feet. “What's your name?”

“Marco.”

“Let's you and I go have a little chat, Marco,” Harrington says. He walks him down the hall, toward the bedrooms. “You don't have to come, Johnny.”

“No, I'm in,” Johnny says.

He follows Harrington down the hallway, into one of the bedrooms, and closes the door behind him. Harrington bounces Marco off the wall, catches him on the rebound, and knees him in the balls. He lifts his head and says, “I am not fucking with you, asswipe. You're going to tell me where those kids are, or you're going to pull a gun on me and I'm going to have to paint the wall with your brains. And that's my second shot. My first goes into your gut. їComprende, amigo? ”

“I speak English,” Marco says.

“Well you'd better start speaking it,” Harrington says. He pulls his pistol and jams it into Marco's stomach.

“They just left,” Marco says.

“Left for where?”

“The fields.”

“ Whatfields?”

“The strawberry fields.”

Johnny feels his skin go cold. “ What? Whatdid you say?”

“The strawberry fields,” Marco says. “The old Sakagawa strawberry fields.”

Johnny feels dizzy, like the room is spinning. Shame flows through his blood. He lurches to the door and shoves it open. Staggers down the hall, through the living room, and out the door. He leans on the car and bends over to catch his breath.

It's coming on dawn.