44

Darwin bellowed and blustered and raised nine kinds of hell when he heard what I was up to, but I believed he was secretly pleased I was planning to bring down Joe DeMeo. I decided to test the theory.

“I can kill him,” I said, “but I can’t take him alive without your help.”

“Why should I care if he’s dead or not?”

“If I take him alive, you can turn him over to the FBI for the hotel bombing, along with all the evidence we’ll find in his house.”

“There won’t be any evidence. Anyway, when the time comes, I’ll grab the other guy, the one who works the whores.”

“Grasso? He’s one of Joe’s guards. Lives in one of the cottages. Again, without your help, he’s not going to come out of this alive.”

“What about the whore?”

“Paige. Her name is Paige,” I said.

“Whatever.”

“Paige is probably dead by now.”

“Maybe not,” he said.

“I hope not. Even so, her testimony alone won’t be strong enough to put him away for the bombing.”

Darwin thought about it. “What do you want from me—and it better not be much.”

I knew whatever I told him would make him blow his stack, but really all I needed was a Pulsed Energy Projectile System (PEPS) weapon mounted on a Hummer.

“You’re insane!” he shouted.

“You can fly one to Edwards in a cargo plane,” I said. That’s just down the road from me.”

“I know where fucking Edwards is,” he said. “Didn’t you just fly there with three ADS weapons?”

“Yeah, but I need the PEPS.”

“Let me guess: you want it by tomorrow.”

“Actually, I need it by six tonight.”

“You’ve lost your fucking mind.”

“Oh, c’mon, Darwin. There’s nothing you can’t do.”

“Except keep you on a leash.”

“Look, I know it’s not going to be easy and no one else in the country could do it—but you’re Darwin!”

“Fuck you!” he said. “It can’t be done. Period.”

“I’ll be there at six tonight,” I said. “Impress me.”

“Go to hell!” Darwin said.