A PATRIOT

Three days," he repeated. "I'll contact you at the end of that time. If you have her, we'll set up a meeting. If you don't, Schell gets the needle, and my boy Merlin will be out to pay you another visit. Next time I'll instruct him to bring me the head of that big oaf of Schell's."

"Agarias," I said as he rose to leave. "You know, your name doesn't exactly sound Anglo to me. What are you?"

"I'm a patriot," said Agarias and smiled.

"Call me, I'll find her," I said to him as he made for the door.

He stopped before leaving and said, "Three days, my friend. No more."

I was afraid Agarias would alert the guard that I was in the building, so the second the door closed, without bothering to return the files to their appropriate drawers, I strode across the office and climbed up on the couch. Reaching over the back of it, I opened the window and removed the screen. When I landed on the ground on the side of the building, it was already night. I didn't hesitate to see if anyone was about but just took off running toward the street. A few seconds later, Antony pulled up to the curb and I got in.

Hal was in the backseat, fully clothed now, and first thing, I asked him if he'd done all right.

"The guy chased me back as far as the trees," he said, "but once I made it into the woods, he stopped running and just yelled 'Filthy mutt' at me a few more times. He didn't want to screw with the dog in the dark woods, though. I'd have shoved that billy club up his ass."

"Filthy mutt," Antony said, laughing. "I wonder if the guy really thought you were a dog."

"I had an interesting visit while I was inside," I told them. When I told them I'd seen Agarias, Antony and Hal were both for going back and getting him. I told them to calm down and then filled them in on everything I'd learned.

"We have to get this schmuck," said Hal.

"If only we knew where they were keeping Schell," I said. "We could go and get him. My guess it's that special lab of his Stintson told us about. I was hoping I'd find an address for it in there, but it makes sense that he's not advertising its location, what with the kind of work he's doing, murdering children and raising lumpen-headed mutations like circus animals."

"You talking about Mr. Pasty?" asked Antony.

"That thing is legally his kid," I said. "Merlin is its name."

"What's he been feeding him?" said Antony.

"He's Morgan's brother," I said.

"What?" said the big man, momentarily taking his foot off the peddle. When he recovered, he said, "Makes sense, though, they're both white as milk. But Jeez, she definitely got the looks in that family."

"Do you know where this woman is who he wants to trade Tommy for?" asked Hal.

"Yeah, we've got her," I said. "But I don't think I can just turn her over to him."

"Well you're going to have to," said Hal. "Otherwise Schell takes the dirt nap."

"I know Schell would tell me not to do it," I said.

"Not exactly," said Antony. "Schell would scheme some con."

"Yeah," I said. "But we need an edge, which we don't have right now."

"Count me in," said Hal.

"Go back to Brooklyn," I said. "Get Sal to help you round up the others, anybody who'll help. Stand by. I might call at any time. I'm going to need you all to move at a moment's notice."

"You got it," he said.

"Don't go to the station," I told Antony. "We'll get some gas and take Hal all the way in and drop him at the Captain's place, not near his apartment. I'm afraid Agarias is having us followed. He knew we'd been to Stintson's place, because he told me he had the poor guy sandbagged. If they're on us, we can lose them in the city. We'll pay the toll; take the Motor Parkway."

"Okay," said Antony. "If we take them back to Babylon on our tails, we'll lose Morgan and Schell."

In Brooklyn we followed Hal into Captain Pierce's place and hung around a while to make sure no one was on our trail. The old Negro knife thrower had served as a scout at fifteen for the Union Army in the Civil War. That night he served Antony and Hal a mason jar each of the home brew beer that he'd concocted in a barrel in his kitchen. I explained to him what was going on with Schell, and he volunteered his services if need be. The Captain suffered from the shakes, and his eyes were starting to go cloudy, but he still had that hair-splitting aim, as he insisted on demonstrating by skewering, from across the living room, an apple he made Antony balance on his head.

We didn't get back to the fishing cottage until well after midnight. By then my fists were just about able to unclench. Antony's driving had been inspired, to say the least. The way he'd piloted the Cord, two-wheeling around corners, weaving in and out of traffic, cutting across open fields, I'm surprised my pants were still dry. If Agarias's goons had followed us after all that, they were welcome to us. I was exhausted, brain-weary from trying to think of an out for Schell and at the same time not giving up Morgan. In the morning, I knew I'd have to tell her everything, and that in itself frayed me.

Isabel met me at the door, holding the pistol.

"Don't shoot," I said and put my arms around her. She kissed me and told me it had been a quiet day. She'd gone out to the little market in town to get the things she needed to make dinner. I could smell the rich aroma all over the cottage, the scent of thick potato soup with bacon and onion that took me back to my mother's kitchen in an instant.

"No chiles," she said and shook her head. She served us each-Antony, herself, and I-a bowlful and a wedge of bread. Morgan was asleep in the back room.

While we ate, Antony and I filled her in on what had happened at the ERO. She'd never met Hal, so we had to describe him for her, and then Antony was good for a few stories from the old carny days when they'd worked the same shows. Finally the big man got up from the table.

"That meal's brought me to the conclusion that my cooking stinks," he said. He looked around the tiny cottage and then lifted the gun off the table and told us we could cram onto the couch, he was going to sleep in the car. "If I see anything going on," he said, leaving, "I'll hit the horn. We should've brought a fucking bottle from the house."

Isabel and I quietly cleaned up the dinner table, and when we were done, I sat on the couch and lay my head back. She came over and stretched out, resting her head on a pillow on my thigh. It was the exact position I'd seen Schell and Morgan in the last time I'd spoken to him.

"Morgan told me about her life in the city," Isabel whispered. "Very sad. She ran away from home and ended working for some man. You know, como puta. One day she returned to the place where he kept all his women and found him dead on the floor with a bullet in the back of his head."

"Sounds familiar," I said.

"I think she very much likes Mr. Schell," said Isabel.

"Yeah," I said, "they need each other. But what am I going to do? As it stands now, it's either one or the other."

"Pensarбs en algo; duйrmete," she said.

The imagery of the day ran through my thoughts in a crazy patchwork-Hal running around stark naked, Agarias's smirk, Antony's death-wish driving. It all ended with that dead butterfly on the kitchen table back at home. Suddenly, the wings of the mosaic twitched, and it began to flutter. I continued to stare as it lifted into the air, into the sky where the ceiling had been, and then I knew I was dreaming.

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