Acts of Nature

with his MP5 covering the increasingly agitated group of fuel thieves, some of whom by then had magically produced weapons of their own. The extra cash in his pockets in addition to his professional fee would ensure that no report or even a vague memory of the incident would remain. Harmon’s only regret was that in the interest of the company’s unwritten policy—what happens there stays there—he’d had to instruct the pilot to sweep low over the middle of an inland lake where he and Squires wrapped their used weapons in Harmon’s bullet-pocked jacket and tossed the bundle out the door. He hated having to do that with the little Colt. He only had one more like it at home.
    No, Harmon’s nerves were twitching because while Squires had been drinking at the airport bar he’d been watching a satellite news station, concentrating on the reports of a tropical storm that was moving westward from the open Atlantic through the southern Caribbean. It was expected to strengthen to hurricane status within the next twenty-four hours and continue on a path vaguely in the direction of the Yucatan, but as a longtime resident of Miami, Harmon knew you couldn’t predict these bastards. A hurricane had an eye, but you could not read it, and it never showed reluctance or hesitation. And unlike most human dangers, Harmon was scared as hell of it.

THREE
    The kid still had his eyes closed when the collar of his shirt yanked back, the first button pulled up into his throat until it popped and went skittering onto the girl’s dresser top.
    “Dream about the panties on your own time, son. I brought you up here to steal stuff, not sniff it,” Buck said, releasing the fistful of collar and then lightly backhanding the boy’s head.
    “OK, OK, man. Jeez, chill,” Wayne said, tucking his head down into his shoulders. When he turned, Buck was already focused on the jewelry box on the pink and white dressing table. He flipped open the top and while Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” plinked away, he pawed through the necklaces and earrings. “Junk,” he snorted and then started toward the bedroom door.
    “If you’re not going to do me any good in here, Wayne, next time you stay outside with Marcus,” Buck said and then stopped to toss the big-handled screwdriver at the kid. “Now go downstairs and check the guy’s study. And if the desk drawers are locked, pry ’em open. That’s where the good shit will be.”
    “Yeah, all right,” Wayne said, turning his back and straightening his shirt. But Buck stood and watched him for one more second, saw him take the teenager’s panties and stuff them into his jeans pocket. He shook his head and wondered again why he ever thought of using these kids on these burglary gigs. The fact that they would do almost anything you asked without hesitation was their only redeeming value. That plus he needed someone to help do the heavy lifting. But one day they were going to put him in the weeds, he thought as he moved down the hall toward the master suite. Then there’d be no more Miami-Dade Correctional Center for him. He’d be riding straight up to Raiford Prison. He looked at his watch again. They’d been in the house for twenty minutes already, first stripping the wires on the big plasma television in the living room and loading it into the van. Then the other electronics: CD players, stereo components, the Xbox computer games. You take the heavy stuff first in this kind of work. Buck had again borrowed a friend’s white van, slapped the magnetic FreezeFrame Air Conditioning Service sign on the side, and come probing for the right house.
    The two boys had been useful because they got a charge out of sneaking over the walls of these gated communities and then scurrying around from house to house with the laser intercept Buck had put his hands on. They’d hide in the bushes like they were playing a kid game and soak up the garage-door laser signals of home owners coming in after dark from work. It was another benefit of these far-out suburbs. The commute into Miami took these office workers forever and they rarely got home until after sunset this time of year. They’d hit the button to open their garage and the boys would be right there to record it with the intercept.
    Then Buck would return with them a week later and scout the possibilities. If things looked cool he’d simply hit the garage door, back the van in, snap on the surgeon’s gloves, and in broad daylight they’d clean