13. Choirboys

It occurs to me that this would be a good time to find out what's really going on. I've been doing nothing but reacting to events for the last twenty-four hours; I still don't know exactly what I'm doing down here. I lounge comfortably on the Studie's massive chrome bumper. "How about you answer some questions, Sands? What's going on that you called RC about? Give me the gist."

Sands hesitates, lights up another smoke. "The truth?" I remind him sweetly.

"Just trying to remember how much I already told you."

"Sands, if I can build a sonar, I'm pretty sure I can follow along. Try me."

"I told you about the business with Barillo, right? Day of the Dead, coup, cartels, all that? And his daughter, Ajedrez, the double agent?"

"The one who lured you into their clutches."

"That's her. I thought we'd pretty much brought down the Barillo organization on the Day of the Dead. When RC and I took on the gang we torched around Christmas time, I thought that was a whole new outfit." Theex-agent sighs. "From what I've been able to piece together since, the syndicate that wants to move in had ties to Barillo through - you're gonna love this - his godson. Guy in charge is Eduardo Gomez. His father has a big operation down around Guadalajara, and what I hear is, he and Barillo used to be choirboys together."

"How Scorcese," I murmur, taking the choirboys part of the tale with a dash of hyperbole. "And he wants revenge, I suppose?"

"Somehow, I wouldn't be surprised. It seems Ajedrez let them know about the CIA's involvement." Sands looks grim. "They tracked me down."

"She fingered you."

"Apparently somebody finally put two and two together and figured out who the agent in question was. They had questions about the company, and I led them back to my place with a story about information only I could access. They didn't think I was a threat, in my condition." A bitter smile twists his face. "That's probably the only reason I'm alive - they never imagined that I was part of the raid on that lab they had set up."

"And where does -" Calling him George would set Sands off again, I'm pretty sure, but I'm not going to call him 'The' either. "Where does that son of Mexico fit in?"

"A few days ago, some of the Gomez boys tried to snatch me. Roughed up Manolo, almost dragged me into their vehicle, but I managed to pop two of them, and the other guy and the driver took off. I got Manolo a bus ticket and sent him off to the village El calls home. Figured I'd get him one way or another - either he'd listen to the kid's story and agree to help, or he'd be pissed enough at me using for the kid as a gofer that he'd come after me. Either way, he'd draw some of the heat."

"Classy of you."

"Friday night, I knew I was being followed. I didn't think it was El - he likes those fancy pants with the chains on them, and they're noisy. I knew I needed someone to cover my ass, so I called RC. Who sent you. Meanwhile, my mysterious pursuer grabbed me, and what do you know, it was El Mariachi in stealth mode, and no, he wasn't too happy about me using the kid as an errand boy. Of course, when he found out about my condition -" Sands pulls down the PSCS in a gesture that would show his eyes if he still had them "- he was a little more reasonable. Just a little. Then the Gomez boys came along -"

"You got into a gunfight with the bad guys. You got captured and he got shot," I finish for him, remembering my briefing. "He got knocked cold by a bullet. I found him and the primary unit at the scene."

Sands nods thoughtfully. "How did you find it?"

"I built the unit. I know how to track it." The finder is still in my bag. I rummage down past all the guns - mine and George's and the one from the armory - my Swiss Army knife and a hairbrush, and pull the device out. "This pings off the relays in the PSCS."

When I turn it on, he shakes his head and winces. "What the fuck is that?"

"You can hear that?" The frequency must interact with the sonor's circuitry. I deactivate the detector.

"Feedback like a chainsaw. Jesus." He straightens up. "Hey...can you make me one of those? A little less piercing, maybe?"

"What for?"

"For Manolo. So he can track me down if he has to."

"He's just a kid, Sands. Do you really think you should be involving him in all this? What about the CIA? Can't you get any help from them?"

"No, I'm a free agent, so to speak. The company and I have agreed to disagree."

Whatever that's supposed to mean. "I don't understand why you're doing any of this. Staying here. Going after them. It's crazy."

"Of course." A humorless smirk. "I am crazy. Ask anyone. There's one of me, and an infinite supply of them, and I don't fucking care. I'm not going to let them defeat me. It's that simple."

Mojave Dragonfly: What? Checking fluids is part of essential automotive maintenance. ;-)

mssparrington: As you can probably tell, dialogue is my friend.

Dawnie-7: Yeah. Of course, with Kate Sands, a truce is something along the lines of, "Okay, I won't shoot you - but I will call you an asshole if you act like one."