Niceville

in.
    “That means they’re also the guys who—”
    “Ran my ass off yesterday afternoon, making me buy back that Raytheon thing. I mean, who the fuck else would have the balls? It’s them, Phil, take it to the bank. It’s them.”
    Holliman looked at Deitz.
    “Holy shit.”
    “Yeah. My sentiments exactly.”
    “What do you want to do?”
    “I’m going to go out to Charlie Danziger’s place and I’m going to start blowing holes in him until he tells me where my fucking money is, and then I’m going to kill him.”
    “Deitz, you can’t do that. I mean, we got a business going here, we’re making good money for easy work, why blow it all?”
    “Yeah? What would you suggest, Phil?”
    “I’d call Boonie Hackendorff and Marty Coors and tell them what you think, that’s what. Shit, if Thad told you about the blue boots, he sure as shit told the FBI. Maybe they’re already onto him.”
    “That’s the problem, Phil. If the Feds get to Danziger before we do, then sooner or later he’s going to tell them about the Raytheon thing, just to buy himself a deal.”
    “There’s no deal for being accessory to killing four cops. It’s the needle for sure, him and Coker. The Raytheon thing wouldn’t buy him a donut.”
    “You want to take that chance, Phil?”
    “You go out there and beat the shit out of Charlie Danziger if you want, Byron, if you can, but I’m not going out there with you.”
    “I don’t want you with me. You gotta go get that thing back from the Chinks. That’s gotta be back in the tray at Slipstream by the end of the day tomorrow—”
    “Excuse me—Mr. Deitz?”
    Both men looked up at a young guy in black wearing an NUC smock, waiting by the open patio doors, holding a big black metal toolbox. Black hair, pale white skin, bug-eye sunglasses just like Deitz’s.
    “Yeah … Bock, yeah. Hey, Bock, how’s it going?”
    Bock gave him sort of a half salute, a big toothy grin—
maybe some wiseass in it
, Holliman was thinking, watching the guy.
    “It’s all fixed, Mr. Deitz. I ran a full diagnostic. It was the motherboard for the SensoMatic module—”
    “Great, Bock, great,” said Deitz, waving him off. “I owe you anything?”
    “No sir,” said Bock, smiling at him. “All on warranty. We’re sorry for the inconvenience to you and your family.”
    “Okay, well, thanks.”
    Bock turned to go, but Deitz called him back
    “Oh, wait, one thing,” he said, as Bock’s knees turned to rubber. “This is for you,” he said, holding out a fifty.
    Bock hesitated.
    “Ah, sir, we’re not allowed to accept—”
    “Fuck that. You been here fucking two hours. Buy yourself some breakfast, kid. Okay.”
    Bock came forward, folded the bill into his hand, stuffed it into the pocket of his smock.
    “So, it’s all good now?” said Deitz.
    “Oh yes,” said Bock. “It’s all good now.”
    They watched Bock walk down the drive, get into his van, drive slowly away.
    Deitz leaned forward.
    “No, look, Phil, this is how we play this. You go get the thing fromthe Chinks, take it back to Slipstream right away, no point holding it any longer than we have to—”
    “It’s early. They don’t have to give it back until noon.”
    “Okay, so go sit in the lobby until noon. Have a lime rickey and a Waldorf salad. Just get it in your hands and put it back where it belongs.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “Stop looking so freaked, Phil. I heard you. I’m not gonna do anything nutso. I’m just going to go out to Charlie’s place, like a buddy, dropping in, like, and I’m going to ask him a few hard fucking questions and get some fucking answers.”
    “What about Coker? Those two are tight, and Coker’s even crazier than Danziger.”
    “I can handle Coker. I get what I need out of Danziger, I got Coker by the balls. I work this right, we get my money back, maybe I might even let those two keep some of what they took from Gracie. Thing is, I roll Charlie Danziger, we own
both
their asses, now and forever. We win and everybody else loses. That’s how I like it. Now go. I gotta get some gear together.”
    Phil stood up, looking nervous.
    “Deitz, I think you should sit on this until I get back. We should talk about it some more.”
    “Fuck talk,” said Deitz. “You work for me, Phil. Go earn your pay.”
    Holliman flipped his glasses on, nodded his head, and walked away towards his truck. Deitz watched him go, thinking,
Jigs, they’re all the same
.
    He was in his