Geek Mafia: Mile Zero - Rick Dakan (acx book reading TXT) 📗

let someone following her go uncontested.”

Winston shook his head. “You give me too much credit. My ‘friend’ as you call him just got spotted because he was sloppy. He wasn’t supposed to be.”

“Even so, he saw his opportunity when it came. He followed Raquel to the Ft. Taylor Park. He hopped the fence and chased after her. But she was waiting for him on the nature trail. She jumped him and they fought. He killed her.”

“And he wasn’t supposed to,” Winston said. “She attacked him. He defended himself. In the fight her head got hit…”

“He hit her on the head,” Chloe corrected.

“And she died,” Winston finished.

“And then he called you. And you or some people from your Crew met him on the beach in a boat. They carried her to the boat from the woods and at some point she got wet. They took her to a car or van - probably parked at the bight where we saw your other boat - and loaded her in the back. Then your friend and at least one other person broke into her room and lifted her up through the back window and put her back in her bed. All this while Chloe and I were meeting you and Lily at your other boat.”

Winston nodded once more.

“And you came to the meeting with Isaiah and acted like you didn’t know where Raquel was. And when she didn’t show up you encouraged us to go and look for her. You suggested that she might be hurt or in trouble. So we stopped the meeting and everyone went out to try and see what happened to Raquel.

“And then we found her. We probably found her faster than you thought we would. My guess is you were going to ‘find’ her yourself, but you needed to take some time to make it look good. Then we beat you to it.” The old man said nothing, which Paul must have taken to mean he was right, so he pressed on. “As it turned out, this wasn’t a big deal, or so you thought at the time. You were pretty sure your friend had covered his tracks well, and the end result was the same - one of the Crews found the body, not the cops, and we all got your message loud and clear.”

“You thought Isaiah’s plan was dangerous and a really bad idea,” said Chloe added. “So bad that it had gotten Raquel killed. You wanted to scuttle the negotiations from the beginning.”

“I did,” agreed Winston.

“Then why come at all?” asked Chloe. “Why participate? Why suggest Isaiah have his meeting here, in our town? Why not just tell him to fuck off ?”

Winston didn’t answer so Paul answered for him. “Because he didn’t want Isaiah’s plan to succeed no matter what. With the meeting here, he’d have us to help control the situation. He could use us as an extra weapon in his arsenal against Isaiah. Or as patsies if everything went to hell.”

“Not as patsies,” Winston said. “I wouldn’t have done that. But I did use you, I admit that. You were an unknown quantity in the equation, something Isaiah and the others couldn’t totally prepare for.”

“But why?” asked Chloe again. “Why do you care what Isaiah fucking does?”

“Because it’s wrong,” Winston insisted, a hint of passion creeping into his voice for the first time. “It’s buying into the enemy’s world view. And when you do that, you become the enemy. He wanted to create a corporation. A corporation. The most diseased, parasitic social institution ever invented. And he wanted to turn us into something just like them.”

“That’s a reason for you not to join,” said Chloe. “Not a reason to stop him. Not a reason to kill a woman…”

“It’s foolish,” Winston interrupted. “Corporations have names. Names have power. You give something a name and you give the enemy something to hang onto. Something to look for. Something the FBI could get subpoenas for and form task forces to hunt down. Something to infiltrate. It’s the oldest rule of magic, and the powers that be know it. To know a thing’s name is to have power over it.”

And there it was. The crack in Winston’s armor. Just for a second - a split second - he’d dropped his guard and Chloe had seen through to what was really going on. Three little letters. FBI. Winston had been part of the Weather Underground in the ’70s, which the FBI had hunted down for years. He was a former ’60s radical who’d lived for a decade as a wanted man. And then the world had moved on and stopped caring about old hippie radicals, and Winston had lived a happy life off the grid and under the radar. But it was a new era now - the war on terror had brought the FBI and law enforcement in general a slew of new powers, new funding and new needs to justify their expenses. Winston’s Crew wasn’t the Mafia. They certainly weren’t al Qaeda. And as it stood, they weren’t worth looking into. But if there was suddenly some new quasilegal corporate entity taking down major corporations and financing crimes and cons across the globe, well, that would indeed be something the FBI might be interested in. And Winston didn’t want that. For all his talk of revolution and overthrowing The Man, the truth was that he was complacent in his comfortable little world he’d built for himself.

“You’re scared,” said Chloe, looking right into his eyes. “You did all this because you’re scared.”

Winston just looked away. For the first time in her memory, he couldn’t meet her gaze. He said nothing, and she knew that she was right. He was a frightened old man, and in his terror he’d lashed out at what scared him. And in lashing out, he’d killed Raquel.

“How’s Jacob?” Winston asked, changing the subject. Chloe let him.

“Is that his name?” she asked.

“It’s what I call him.”

“He’s in the shed with Sandee.”

“Who doesn’t really have a gun to his head I assume.”

“He doesn’t really need one,” Paul pointed out. Chloe could tell from his voice that Paul was angry. Probably as angry as she was that all their recent troubles were the direct result of Winston’s paranoia.

“I’m sure that’s true,” Winston said. “I’d like to see him.”

“Nuh uh,” said Chloe, shaking her head. “Not until we sort this all out.”

“What is there to sort out?” asked Winston.

“What isn’t there to sort out?” retorted Paul. “We haven’t decided what to do with him or what to do with you for that matter. Or what to tell Isaiah.”

“Why tell Isaiah anything?” Winston asked. “This is between just us, correct?”

“We told Isaiah we’d found the killer,” Chloe said, wishing now that they hadn’t, if only because it would give them more options.

“Tell him he escaped. Tell him you had the wrong man. Leave Isaiah and his Crew out of this. If you get him involved, everything becomes much more complicated.”

“And then there’s Eddie…” Paul started to say. “He…”

Chloe tugged on her right ear as if it was itching, a sign she and Paul had developed when they first arrived in Key West. It meant shut up. She didn’t want Winston to know that Eddie knew about Jacob. Not until she’d gotten him to suggest a plan of his own for dealing with the situation. Once she knew what Winston wanted to have happen, it would be much easier for her to decide what she was going to actually let happen.

Paul got the signal, like he always did. “He’s going to want someone to hang this murder on. And he knows it wasn’t him or his crew that did it, no matter how much you try and shift the blame to him.”

“So we shift the blame to your old friend Raff,” Winston said. “He’s as likely a candidate as any.”

“And Raff will just go along with that I’m sure,” said Paul. “Eddie’s not going to believe anything we say about him if they’re friends.”

“Raff left town. My people saw him get on a plane to Ft. Myers. And with him on the lam, he looks very guilty indeed. Besides, isn’t he the one you warned Isaiah about? Isaiah will accept that Raff and his Crew are the culprits. Even if he does not have full faith in your explanation, it will placate him for the moment and, as I’m sure you desire more than anything, get him out of your town and your lives.”

“So you think we should just let your friend go and forget everything we know about what really happened,” said Paul.

“I never advise anyone to forget anything,” said Winston, smiling for the first time since Chloe had called him out for being scared. “I just recommend that you keep your own counsel and not tell Isaiah or Eddie anything they don’t need to know.”

“So you get what you want,” Paul said. “Isaiah’s plan goes down the drain, at least for the time being.”

“And you get what you want, Paul. You get your life back, with all these pesky outsiders gone,” replied Winston. “Isn’t that what you two want?”

“What if we want more?” asked Chloe. “What about getting compensated for all the time and money we lost by getting dragged into this nonsense?”

“Name a figure that’s fair and it’s yours,” said Winston too fast, showing just another hint of what looked like desperation to Chloe’s trained eye. Winston never bought people off, certainly not friends. He seemed to realize his mistake and backpedaled at once, saying, “As long as it is actually fair, of course.” But the damage was done. If he was willing to buy them off then she knew he was more than a little worried that she and Paul might not play along.

“What about your promise earlier?” asked Chloe. “About you and us forming a group like Isaiah’s. About our Crews working together.”

“To be honest, I didn’t think you’d trust me enough after all this to want to work with me that close,” said Winston. He was testing her, calling her bluff. He was right of course - she didn’t trust him at all, and if she pretended otherwise he’d know she was lying.

“I don’t trust you,” said Chloe. “But I might be able to work something out with some of the other Crews that you’re in contact with. Isaiah wanted you because of your contacts, right? Well now that’s what I want. I want a rundown on all the Crews you know about. Nothing too specific - just general areas of expertise, what city or cities they run in and how many members they have. And their general character. You give me the whole catalog and I’ll pick three. You give me the contact info for those three and promise to leave us all alone from now on.”

“And this brings you what benefit?” asked Winston.

“The benefit is our business. You can figure it out yourself.” The benefit would be that she and Paul could start to put together their own alliance, modeled along what Isaiah had laid out. It wouldn’t be as big or powerful, but it would be a start. And it would extend their reach and their lives beyond this damn island. Assuming Paul would go for it of course, but that was an argument for another time.

“I think we could work something out along those lines,” Winston agreed. “Now if you’ll let me talk to Jacob…”

“No way,” said Paul. Chloe could tell that he was still angry, although she wasn’t sure if it was at Winston or at her or at both of them. But he’d never contradict her in front of a mark and so