The Renegades

15

The late dinner arrives and we eat in silence. I can tell that the boy is trying to process my story without seeming to. More than that, he’s trying to process me. But you know how important it is for the young to be cool. I order another round of drinks. He’s plenty high by now and working hard not to show it. He downs the miso soup, eats his way through ten slabs of wild-caught salmon, downs a bowl of rice drenched in soy sauce. Nothing left on his plate, so he relights his second cigar.

“So, Laws and I have a nice arrangement,” I say. “We’re talking roughly seven grand a week each. We drive a few hours to get what we need. We weigh and package it. We drive a few more hours to deliver it. Then we party down with Herredia. Months go by, but trouble is coming. Trouble always comes. Something is going wrong with Terry. The Mexicans have a word for it, gusano, which means worm, but it also means something inside a person that is eating them. So, what is it? What’s eating him?”

I look at the boy and he’s studying me hard. He puffs the cigar and blows out the smoke but I can tell his full attention is on me and the question before him.

“I can’t know,” he says. “Because you’ve left something out of the story. You haven’t given me all the information.”

“What have I left out?”

“Things don’t add up with your story about the couriers and Eichrodt. How can a stoned tweaker execute two veteranos, two tough-ass cartel runners? I don’t see why the couriers pulled over that night and parked on the off-ramp. They were right out in the open. Where were their guns? How could Eichrodt possibly disguise himself as anything but a three-hundred-pound man? Did they know him? The papers never said that. And something else that bothers me-how did you and Laws get so lucky that night? How did you find the van and the truck so easily? How come some other unit didn’t find at least one of them before you did? And also, why didn’t you call for backup when you pulled over Eichrodt? He was cooperative. That doesn’t make a bit of sense to me. And also, what about this tipster? How come he sees everything and calls it all in, but won’t give his name? That’s very convenient. I don’t trust him. I think he’s involved in a big way.”

“You think like a cop.”

“It’s just common sense.”

I understand that I’ve come to a crossroads. I’ve only met with this boy a few times over a few weeks, but we’ve already arrived at a moment of truth. Only truth can support the great weight of the future.

As I said before, I almost believe in him. I think he has what I’m looking for. One man can accomplish much, but two men? Then three, then more? The sky is the limit. It takes a team. There were some forward-thinking deputies at my department back in the eighties. They gave themselves names and they got respect. There were the Renegades and the Vikings and the Saxons and the Reapers. They understood the power of working together. I’ve never met one of them. But I can tell you that they had the right idea.

I lean in close and lower my voice.

“Actually, when we first see the van, it’s headed southbound on Highway Fourteen near Avenue M. We flash it. At this point, Lopes and Vasquez are very much alive and well.”

He looks at me with an expression I’ve never seen on him. Time passes before he speaks. “Oh, man.”

“Oh, man is right, son. Do you want me to go on? You can say no but it has to be now. In life there are no retractions and in this story there will be none either. Once it is told, it is told.”

“Yes. Go on.”

“You’re sure? I’m offering you a way out.”

“I need to know.”

“You cannot unhear.”

“I want to hear.”

I lean in close and I whisper. “Good. Terry goes to the driver’s side and I take the passenger side. The couriers roll down their windows. We talk. They’re eating strawberries out of a basket on the console between them. In the back of the van there are shapes covered by blankets. Flats of strawberries holding them down. We know what is under those blankets. I shoot Vasquez. Terry is supposed to shoot Lopes but Terry can’t pull the trigger. So I do. I give them both the new look. We take the money. I can’t explain to you the thrill of killing two criminals and driving away in a law enforcement vehicle with their money in the trunk. It’s the essence of life as I know it. I call in the tip and we arrange some things for evidence. Then we drive out Pearblossom Highway and wait for Shay Eichrodt to come home from the bars.”

He can’t hide the shock. He also looks disappointed, confused and afraid. It’s a storm of emotions and I can read every one of them. He looks as if he’s witnessed something that has changed his life.

Which, of course, he has.

His face looks older now. He can’t see it but I can. “So,” he says.

“So.”

“Really.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what to think or say.”

“It’s been thought and said before.”

“Except that I…face a similar situation.”

“Of course you do.”

“Where I will have to decide.”

“Yes. And I want to hear all about it. It’s a complex circumstance. There is little simplicity in any life worth living.”

There’s a long silence while we vet each other’s confession.

“Why did you tell me?” he asks.

“I chose you. And you needed to know what’s required. It’s the difference between being a boy and being a man. Do you want to hear the rest of the story? There’s so much more to tell.”

“But why did you choose me?”

“Because of who you are.”

He sits back and sips his beer. “I want to hear more.”