Indigo Slam

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.'