Three lines of pure white powder had been neatly cut and laid out ready for her. Lachance sniffed one and tilted her head back.
'Oh, fuck me, that's good,' she said, to the low chuckle of the man in the toilet stall with her.
He was short, only a few inches taller than her. He moistened his bottom lip with his tongue as he watched her. 'And what will you give me for the rest, mamí?' he asked, smiling.
She took a step forwards. 'Would you know? I'm all out of cash...'
Warm, sour breath blew over her face as he leaned close. She managed not to wrinkle her nose and put her palm flat against the bulge in his pants. He grunted, and pushed his hips forwards, his eyelids flickering shut for a moment. A syringe slipped into her other hand from its hiding place in her jacket sleeve. The Carnales dealer made a gasped noise of surprise when the needle entered the skin above his hip and she depressed the plunger.
'Uh, you bitch, you… fucking whore,' he panted, his eyes rolling back in his head.
Lachance let him slide down the graffitied wall. 'Ugh, I'm gonna have to scrub this hand with steel wool now, you nasty,' she said. She picked up a heavy tan leather holdall from the toilet cistern and hefted it over one shoulder. 'Still, small price to pay for all this lovely money and cocaine. The Saints say thanks, dicktree.'
The man's breathing was shallow and laboured, his head lolled onto his chest. She stepped over his legs, unlocked the stall door, and reached into her pocket.
'Buenas noches,' she whispered as she slit his throat.
Lachance walked quickly from the rear of the club, keeping her head down when she passed a group of Carnales foot soldiers smoking in the lobby. Dressed all in black, she drew nothing more than an admiring glance and a whistle from one of the men.
Outside, she made her way to a waiting car and yanked open the passenger door.
'Got it, go, go,' she said.
Chris grinned. 'Nice one,' he said, putting the car into gear and pulling out with a squeal of rubber on asphalt.
Lachance only relaxed when he drove up onto the freeway with no sign of the Carnales in pursuit. She unzipped the bag and exhaled. 'Dude, check it out. There must be more than a hundred K in cash here, and-' she weighed one of the bags of cocaine in her hand, '-I'd say five pounds of coke.'
Chris laughed and held out his fist. 'Fuckin' A. I'm assuming there was at least one dead Los Carnales too?'
She bumped his fist with her own. 'Yeah, just one though. Not quite back to my full strength yet.'
'One is always better than none.'
'Can't argue with that.' She rubbed her nose and turned the stereo up. Hard thrash metal screamed from the expensive sound system of the stolen vehicle.
Chris looked her over. 'You sample a bit?'
'It's good shit, d'you want some?'
'Oh, no. No way. Free, clean, fluffy white snow? What do you take me for?' Chris downshifted through the gears roughly and overtook a station wagon on a bend. 'That was sarcasm, by the way.'
'I know, just cleaning my knife. Here.' She opened one of the packets and held out a generous pile of cocaine on the back of her hand.
'Hold the wheel,' he said, then took her hand in both of his and sniffed.
'Shit!' Lachance yelled with a laugh, grabbing the wheel with her other hand to stop them drifting into a grey pickup truck.
'Aw - yes, yes, yes!' he said, shaking his head. He sat back. 'Honey, we've got money and drugs, let's just head for the border, me and you, life on the run...'
'Yo, shut up and take the wheel,' she said.
He sighed and did as he was told. 'Church?'
'Church. We gotta split this.'
They were both riding a high when they entered the old building and made their way to the back offices. Dex was talking to Troy, gesturing to a map on his Carnales board when Lachance put the bag on his desk with a flourish.
'Ta dah,' she said.
Troy and Dex frowned. She found it hard not to giggle at their nearly identical expressions.
'What's this?' Dex asked, walking to the desk.
'Quarterly bonuses,' Chris piped up.
'The fuck?' Troy said. His frown deepened. 'You got some shit on your face.'
Chris hastily wiped under his nose as Dex opened the bag. 'Where did all this come from?' Dex asked when he lifted out a packet of coke and a bundle of $50 notes.
'The Los Carnales,' Chris said. 'They keep everything in one bag like a bunch of fuckin' fools.'
Dex winced. 'How many fuckin' times? It's not the Los Carnales-'
'Yeah, yeah, grammar police,' Lachance interrupted. 'Does it even matter? It's payday, bitches.'
'And the Los Carnales just let you take it?' Troy asked, pokerfaced.
'Seriously, man? What did I just-' Dex said. Troy waved a hand at him, making him scowl.
'Of course not,' Lachance said. She gestured to her dark clothes. 'I went in under cover, offered to blow one of their guys for the coke-'
'The hell?' Dex said.
'Whoa, chill, I offered. Didn't do it, Jeez.' Lachance folded her arms and pouted. Chris laughed. She elbowed him and continued: 'Took him out in the john, stole his bag. Kerching.'
Troy was scrutinising her face. She raised her chin and met his eye in a wordless challenge.
Dex shrugged. 'Eh, it's a score,' he said. 'Not bad, baby girl.' Chris coughed. 'And you too, dawg.'
'Thanks,' Chris said. 'Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking my cut of the money, getting fucked up and partying all night.' He caught the stack of bills Dex lobbed at him. 'You coming?' he asked Lachance.
'Uh-'
'She's busy,' Dex said quickly.
'I am?'
'You are.'
'I'm busy,' she said apologetically.
Chris winked and left. There was the familiar roll of her stomach. She wondered if Julius had recruited the hottest guys on the block on purpose. Two more were staring at her right now. One was the sexy older mentor she had almost banged in the back of his car. The other was the smart, cute young lieutenant she was actually living with. A few months ago none of this would have been believable. She sniggered.
'Something funny?' Troy asked.
'Sorta. What am I busy with?' she said, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. 'You got a job for me?'
'Your favourite kind,' Dex said.
'Yo, Troy's standing right there,' she hissed.
'Second favourite.'
She thought. 'Eating? Ooh, wait, no, driving? Drinking?'
Dex rolled his eyes. 'Murder.'
'Oh. Cool. Who? Do I know 'em? What did they do?'
'You high?' Troy asked sharply.
'Mmm, little bit. I'm still good for it. Who am I whacking?' she asked again. 'I kill better drunk, than you do sober...' she sang.
'Great,' Troy said.
She pulled a face. 'Hey, I had to try some, show I was legit, yo.'
'You take much?' Dex asked.
'Nah. I'll be down soon, and have a grumpy face like Troy's.' She laughed.
Dex checked his watch, then moved back to the board and waved her over. 'You got four and a half hours,' he said. 'Then you're going to assassinate the leader of the Carnales.'
'Wait, what?' Lachance grinned. 'You're shitting me.'
Troy shook his head and chain lit a new cigarette from the dying embers of the last one in his mouth.
'Nope,' Dex said.
'But you're always the one for planning and being careful and shit, now you want me to straight-up cut the head off the dick?'
The men flinched at the image. 'This is still gonna be planned and careful,' Dex said. 'We found a memo in a pile of paperwork at the meth lab saying that Hector Lopez is meeting with the Colombians at the Docks. Tonight. With the amount of firepower he's gonna have with him, just rushing them with a crew would be suicide.'
'So, what do you want me to do? Rushing 'em is my best method.'
Dex tapped a leaflet that was pinned on the board. 'You're gonna have one of these.'
She leaned forward. The advert had been created using a moody palette of black and greys. The word 'McManus' was a bold headline, the lettering picked out in platinum tones. Under the name, a picture of a sleek, powerful looking sniper rifle. She scanned the blurb beneath, then looked up at Dex.
'Um, you want to give me a sniper rifle?'
'Is that a problem?' he asked.
'Ah, well, it's just...' She rubbed her nose. 'Hear me out. Normally I'd be all 'hell yeah, I can do anything,' you know, but after getting shot and stuff, I think I've kinda grown up a bit recently, and-' Her eyes flicked to Troy then back to Dex '-as much as this sucks to admit… I wouldn't make a very good sniper, bro.'
'Huh,' Troy said quietly.
'You saying you won't do it?' Dex asked.
'I'm saying there's better people to pick. Enrique for one; he's a natural, a born dead-eye. Noah too, he's an awesome shot, calm, steady. Now, I can put a bullet up a mosquito's ass, but I'm not so good at the sitting still and waiting around part, you know?'
Dex dismissed her words with a flick of his wrist. 'We know exactly what time this shit is going down. Three a.m, no waiting around. I've made up my mind; you're the one I want on this. I can give you an order, if you'd like?' he asked, raising his eyebrows.
She chewed her lip. 'What am I going up against? You said a lot of firepower.'
'...There's a good chance they're gonna have rocket-propelled grenades.'
Lachance's eyes widened. 'Oh, fuck that. There's no way in hell-'
'Hold up, hold up. That's why I'm giving you a sniper rifle. You'll be miles away.'
Troy took a step forward. 'The Carnales are gonna think they've been fucked by the Colombians. They'll start shooting, the cops'll show; you should have no problem sneaking away in the confusion.'
'Yeah, but, rockets.' Lachance waved her hands for emphasis. 'Fuckin' rockets, man.'
'I'm sure you'll be fine,' Troy said. 'Lucky, remember?'
'Just the same, I'd get the fuck out of there,' Dex said, looking hard at Troy.
Lachance sighed. 'Oh, fuck me.' She had to do it now. There was no chance she'd let Enrique go in front of an RPG. 'Okay, okay. Jesus. You got a map of the docks?' she asked Dex. 'If I'm getting my ass blown off, you can at least pick me a building with a nice view.'
x.x.x
'Okay. One more time,' Troy said.
Lachance huffed. 'I know what I'm doing.'
'Humour me, kid.'
'Ugh. So, this bit goes in here, these two screws go here and here, and, ooh what's this?' She held up her middle finger to his face. 'That'll go up your ass if you ask me again. I know what I'm doing.'
The sniper rifle laid across her knees, the manual next to her on the hood of Troy's car. He tilted the torch he was using to read so that it shone in her eyes.
'Agh,' she said, wincing. 'Not cool.'
'Drink your coffee.'
'Yes, dad.'
'Don't call me that.'
'No, dad.' She snickered.
Troy sighed and checked his watch. 'Ai-ight, it's two thirty. You better get that apart again and get up there,' he said, nodding to a warehouse across the street. 'Remember: nail Hector and get the fuck out. Leave the other guys to kill each other, and the cops should arrive when the shooting starts.'
'I'm not pinning my hopes on the cops, man,' she said, clipping the parts of the rifle into the black case that came with it. 'Not out here.' She grimaced. 'Not until shit starts blowing up. Oh, crap, what am I doing?'
'Hey, hey. You'll be fine,' Troy said, his face tight. 'Coffee.'
She grabbed the cup and drank. The downswing had hit her hard about an hour ago; she always found this the toughest point when trying to resist another hit of coke. Troy had removed that option by going through her pockets and confiscating her stash. She swallowed the bitter dark fluid and chewed her bottom lip.
'Can't you stay and, like, spot for me?' she asked in a small voice.
He blinked as if she had hit him. 'I… can't. I've got to be somewhere else. Lachance-'
'Nah, it's cool. I get it. Ignore me, I'm just being a pissbaby.'
She closed the case and lifted it from Troy's car. There was a fast little Slingshot at the rear of the warehouse where she was going to set up her sniper's nest, keys in the ignition ready.
The driver's door of Troy's Zircon slammed shut. 'I'll see you back at the church, okay?' he said, leaning out of the window.
'Yeah,' she said. 'Sure. Whatever.'
'Stop thinking,' he yelled over the growl of the engine, and pulled away.
Lachance crossed the street and started to climb the fire escape to the roof. A breeze had picked up, catching at her jacket as she got higher. Once at the top she made her way past several metal containers, settling on a spot near a warm air vent overlooking the docks below.
She assembled the sniper rifle and set it on a tripod, gazing through the scope to set the range.
Her pocket buzzed with a call from Johnny. There was no sign of any vehicles or people around the meeting spot, so she answered.
'Hey, man,' she said quietly.
'S'up. Heard what's going down.'
'Any advice?' she asked.
'Don't take a rocket to the face. It's fucked up enough as it is.'
'Right. Thanks.' She laid there in silence for a moment. Frowned. 'That the only reason you called?'
'Yep. Oh, and, don't miss. Then they'll know where to aim and you will take a rocket to the face-'
'Fuck you.'
She hung up on his laughter and checked the time. Ten minutes to go. She waited impatiently, tapping the toe of her boot on the roof, humming, clicking her tongue and trying to keep her view on the meeting place.
Movement drew her eye, and she looked through the scope. Three cars pulled up and four heavily armed people got out of each vehicle. She twisted a dial, zooming in on the scene, trying to pick out the leader of the Carnales from the pictures Dex had made her study.
There. A man in a long dark coat, the blood red colour appearing black in the dim street lights.
More figures were emerging from previously unseen hiding spaces to meet with the new arrivals.
Lachance inhaled and let her breath out slowly, the centre circle of the scope's cross-hair following Hector Lopez's progression until he paused for a second and scratched his belly.
The sniper rifle coughed. A small sound, the elongated barrel of the McManus acting as a natural suppressor, but with a deadly result. Lachance watched as Hector's chest erupted and he staggered to the ground.
The guards around him dropped into crouched firing positions, looking around, shouting, while the Colombians scrambled and fell back behind large shipping containers.
Lachance ducked down, her heart racing when the first sounds of gunshots reached her ears. She took the weapon apart and replaced it in the case, wincing when she heard a tearing hiss cut through the air and an explosion rock the ground below. Explosions were just fine if she was the one causing them; the unpredictability of her current situation was reminding Lachance too much of her first real fight as a Saint. That had been at the docks too.
Sirens drifted above the dark city, getting closer. That had to be a record for this neighbourhood, Lachance thought.
She descended the fire escape, taking the steps of the last couple of flights two at a time before she jumped in the car. The rest of her journey was uneventful, but she only let herself breathe easily when she pulled up in Mission Beach.
A clump of purple-clad backs welcomed her when she entered the church. A large group of her homies were crowded around a radio that had been plugged in on the dais, listening to a news broadcast. Suddenly a cheer broke out at the newsreader's words:
'...It has been confirmed that local businessman, Hector Lopez, is among the dead.'
'Hey, what about Lachance?'
She looked around at the words, trying to identify who had spoken among the raised voices. She cleared her throat. 'Right here, motherfuckers.'
She was swept up into the cheering mass of purple, hugged, had her hair ruffled. She spun, bristling, when someone pinched her ass, then she was lifted and plonked on Sue's broad shoulders.
Dex came out of his office while Sue was parading her up the aisle. He watched her, leaning against a stone column. She saw him and waved, then tapped Sue's bald pate and pointed so she could go and talk to him.
Sue set her down and ruffled her hair once more for good measure.
'Hey,' she said, bouncing up and kissing his nose.
Dex looked over her head at the celebrations continuing around them. 'We haven't won this yet, you know,' he said. 'There's still Angelo and Victor Rodriguez to take care of, and the Colombians-'
'God, you never switch off, man. We did it. With your planning, my silky smooth murder skills-' she winked, '-the leader of one of the oldest and badest gangs in the city is one-eighty-seven. We fuckin' rock. Enjoy it.'
His eyes met hers. 'You didn't even want to do it.'
'Your point is what? You ask me to do some shit, shit gets done, we party.'
'You don't even realise how good you are at this, do you?' he said softly.
She pulled a face. 'Of course I do. Modesty is for the weak-ass, yo.' She leant up and kissed his mouth. 'But, you know, thanks.'
Dex smiled against her lips. His hand crept up to the back of her head and tangled in her hair. 'I can think of one way to celebrate,' he whispered.
Lachance sighed as his hand tightened. 'Mmm, I wanna see if we can do it in Gat's room and not get killed,' she said, grinning.
'C'mon, he's not looking,' Dex said with a chuckle.
He took her hand and lead her to the rear of the church. She glanced back and spotted Johnny, downing a Dolt 45 as easily as water, whereas the Saint who had challenged him to chug was spluttering amber liquor all down the front of his purple basketball jersey. Her eye then fell on Troy, who looked away when their eyes met. She was just quick enough to catch the sly smile Dex sent in the same direction, but bit her tongue, not wanting to ruin his mood.
