The wake-up

30

"You're sure Guillermo is going to be there this afternoon?"

"I'm not sure of anything, Frank. Shit happens." Hathaway lay on the tanning bed, eyes protected by yellow plastic sun goggles, arms at his side. He had a Ranger insignia tattooed on his left shoulder, just like Thorpe.

"Guillermo has to be there." In the ozone blue light, Thorpe could see faint track marks along Hathaway's forearms. Old injection sites, barely perceptible. He wasn't sure if Hathaway had moved on to more discrete veins, or if he had backed off his habit. "If Vlad and Arturo don't see the Invisible Man, this isn't going to work. I might even get myself killed."

"So, call it off. We'll postpone things."

"I can't do that." Thorpe remembered Ray Bishop lying on the kitchen floor, surrounded by a corona of dried blood. "I want those fuckers dead ASAP."

"There's a difference between being stand-up and being suicidal, Frank."

Thorpe watched Hathaway stretched out under the buzzing incandescent tubes of the tanning bed at Perfect Bronze. The room shimmered with harsh light, Thorpe's baggy white trousers and shirt turned to cobalt in the ultraviolet B. He had called Hathaway after he talked to Missy, told him to contact Guillermo. The offer to Guillermo was the same one Thorpe had made to Missy: a meeting, a face-to-face between Clark and Guillermo to reaffirm the cease-fire and settle the question of who was taking down Clark's cookers. Thorpe had assured Missy this was their best chance to kill Guillermo before he killed them. Hathaway had told the same thing to Guillermo.

Hathaway blindly stuck a hand out.

Thorpe slipped the cold can of Red Bull to Hathaway. "You said you had already run it past Guillermo. You said he agreed to the meet."

"Guillermo hears he has a chance to get Arturo and Vlad served up to him, of course he's going to say he's interested, but that was yesterday. He's had a whole night to think about it, consider all the things that can go wrong."

"What's your best guess, Danny? Is he going to show or not?"

Hathaway took a sip from the can, his long bleached-blond hair lank and green in the ultraviolet. He lifted one of his goggles, peeked at Thorpe. "I think he'd like to see Vlad and Arturo dead as much as you do."

Thorpe nodded. "I can hardly wait to meet the man."

Hathaway slipped the goggles back in place. "I hope you can say that afterward."

"Don't worry."

"I'm not worried. Guillermo needs me… You're the one who's disposable. I told him you were my inside man, a disgruntled employee of Clark's looking to better himself. If Vlad and Arturo go down, Guillermo will be generous, full weight, too, but if something goes bad, if he thinks you're playing him loose"-Hathaway shook his head-"he'll fuck you up fast and move on."

"I'm ready."

"Sure you are." Hathaway stretched, kept his face pointed directly at the overhead tubes. "I thought you were chasing after the Engineer. Doesn't this business with Clark and his crew get in the way?"

"The Engineer is out of town for the next week. We're getting together when he comes back."

"You and the Engineer keep in touch, do you? The two of you coordinate your social calendars?"

Thorpe smiled. "That's right. My dance card was empty, so I decided to take out Vlad and Arturo." He stared at the posters on the wall, the beaches of Jamaica and Hawaii an alien landscape in the glare. "I doubt Clark will really be at the powwow. Does Guillermo understand that?"

"He figured as much. It doesn't matter to him. I told you that the only reason Clark and Missy are still alive is because of Vlad and Arturo. You deliver those two boys, your problems are over. It could be your own private holiday."

Thorpe had watched Claire walk past his window on her way to work this morning. She hadn't even looked toward his apartment, but he had imagined running after her. Imagined her coming back with him. Sitting around drinking coffee and making love. That would be a real holiday.

"Nothing like sunshine, Frank." Hathaway shifted slightly on the tanning bed. "When I'm done, you should hit the rack yourself, put that melanin to work for you. Fifteen minutes here is like two hours on the beach. Ladies love that extra-crispy look, trust me." He adjusted his white Speedo. "I still think you should just let me turn Clark and Missy over to the DEA. It will take a while to build a case against them, but-"

"Not interested."

"Yeah, you like the personal touch." Hathaway lifted his goggles again. "You really could get yourself killed, you know."

"Thanks, Mom. I'll eat my lima beans and say my prayers every night."

"Keep it simple with Guillermo," said Hathaway, serious now. "He's serene, but don't think he's not paying attention. He won't even raise his voice and you'll already be dead. I've seen it happen, Frank. Seen it with my own eyes."

Thorpe nodded.

"I told Guillermo that Clark will send you in first, to make sure things are up to code, and-"

"I got it, Danny."

The timer beeped and the tanning bed switched off, the room suddenly cool and dark by comparison. Hathaway lifted the top half of the bed, swung himself upright, and pushed away his goggles. His skin glowed silver in the after burn, his protected eye sockets bone white. He blinked at Thorpe. "What?"

"You look like a movie star."