Bottle
Bottle squeezed the padlock together and it locked itself with a chunky click. He felt bad about it, but they couldn’t have her pulling a disappearing act now. They needed her to get Red back.
Shit, if he’d left it to Gauge she probably would have been locked up in the storage shed outside - she wouldn’t have been the first to be locked in there.
But no, he was nice guy Bottle, so she was locked in his room instead. He just hoped she wouldn’t trash it.
T-Bone and Gauge were sitting on one side of the table, the yellow letter laid out in front of them. Bottle didn’t go to the head of the table, that was Jase’s spot whether he was there or not, but instead he sat across from them on the other side.
“All right, you read it, thoughts?”
T-Bone let out a hacking cough to clear his throat before speaking, “Should we call the prez?”
Bottle swallowed. Should they? Should they call Jase? He looked over at Gauge, trying to read his face, but as usual it was impossible to read what the man was thinking. The ex-military man was as inscrutable as they come.
Bottle steepled his hands in front of his face, took in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. He looked up at Gauge and T-Bone. “I’d like to sort this out ourselves, before they come back. I’d like to show that I can do this, y’know?”
Gauge nodded. “We can fix this, no need to worry the boss.”
T-Bone cleared his throat and nodded. “Okay. I guess it’s not worth calling Jase yet.” His eyes ran from Gauge to Bottle. “So what are we going to do?”
Bottled placed his hands down on the big hardwood table in front of him. “Well, we sure as shit ain’t doing what Dewey-Dickface says.”
The other two men nodded but didn’t laugh. Gauge flexed his right hand as if to relieve an ache then squeezed it into a fist and pushed it into the palm of his left hand causing his knuckles to crack loudly. “First, I don’t trust this shithead. If he just wanted the girl, why didn’t he just kidnap her instead of Red?”
Bottle nodded. “Yeah it doesn’t make sense. But remember, she said she thought he was fucking with her. Y’know, riling her up by kidnapping her new boyfriend. Shit, the fucker thinks he’s using us to get at her. There she is, running to us for help, and then we flip her over to them — dashing her hopes, destroying her spirit, all that good stuff.”
Gauge and T-Bone nodded. The ex-soldier squeezed the fingers of his left hand into a fist before cracking those knuckles too. “Well, by snatching Red he fucked with us. Even if we didn’t give a fuck about the woman,” he paused to give Bottle a pointed look, “we’d still be lying down like pussies if we allowed the kidnapping of Red to go unanswered. That shit ain’t right. We didn’t let the Mexicans fuck with us, we sure as shit ain’t going to let one whole-wheat-bagel-munching-boyscout-fuckhead treat us like his bitch.”
T-Bone growled in agreement as Bottle smacked the table. “Couldn’t put it better myself big man,” he said. “So how are we going to do this?”
Gauge raised his right hand to his goatee and rubbed it thoughtfully. “I’ve got an idea.”
Bottle grinned at him. “Let me guess, fire?”
T-Bone and Gauge chuckled. “Not this time. Although...”
Bottle laughed. “Fuck that. What’s the plan?”
Gauge looked Bottle up and down, as if to appraise him. “How do you feel about waiting under a camo-tarp with a rifle for about 30 hours?”
Bottle raised his eyebrows. That didn’t sound like fun at all. “Sounds like military shit to me...”
Gauge let out a low chuckle. “Sure as shit is. I’d love to do it, but I’ve got the security shit to deal with while Jase is away.
“So what’s the plan?”
The older man dropped a toothpick into the corner of his mouth and gave a grin as he chewed. He was clearly enjoying rolling his idea over in his mind.
“Our boy scout friend has told us exactly when and where to meet. We’ve got 36 hours until then. That fucker is on his own and trying to look after Red.” He paused. “At least we hope so.”
“So?”
“So, he’s setting himself up for a trap. He’s not as bright as he thinks he is. His letter had some bullshit warning about not trying anything funny, but there’s no way in hell he can monitor a kill-zone that large all on his own, for 36 hours straight.”
“Kill zone?” asked Bottle.
Gauge let out a throaty chuckle. “Yeah. Kill zone. You remember how to use a rifle?”
Bottle sighed and nodded. Thirty fucking hours hiding? That’s some torture bullshit right there. “Yeah I can still shoot.”
“Can you still hit a target at 400 yards?”
“Unfortunately,” he said with a shake of his head and disappointed laugh.
“Well alright then. That’s the plan. We’re gonna slip you about 400 yards away from ground zero. You’re gonna hike up there, no storming up there in a jeep bullshit. If you’re there early enough the fucker will never know you’re coming.”
Bottle nodded. The plan made sense logically. But thirty hours lying in wait? That was some bullshit of the highest order.
Gauge let out another low chuckle as he saw the displeasure on Bottle’s face. “Let’s drop by my place and get some supplies, we’ll put some wings on the plan while we gear you up. Then it’s time for you to get your wait on.”
“Fuck.”
“Don’t give me that shit. I did it for twenty goddamn years. ‘Hurry up and wait’ was 90% of the job.”
Bottle and T-Bone rolled their eyes. Gauge had always done everything bigger or better, harder or longer, more painfully or more exhaustingly. The really annoying thing was it was never bullshit. He never made a claim he couldn’t back up.
“Alright give me a few, I better tell her,” he nodded his head through the walls, “what’s going on.”
Gauge nodded. “Be quick. The sooner you get there, the safer you’ll be.”
More like the sooner I get there the longer I’ll have to wait.
***