Rescue

sailor on liberty, long-strided and loosehipped. Pulling even, I said, “Where are you from originally?“
    “This is Miami, man. You got to ask?“
    “Meaning Cuba.“
    “Hope you a little quicker with the bad guys.“
    “So far.“
    That got the beginning of a grin.

    Carrying my bag through the parking garage, Pepe kept looking left and right and over and behind. The air was cooler than inside the Jetway, but not by much. When we reached a two-door Ford Escort, bright red, Pepe put my suitcase in the trunk. Then he lifted a flap in the carpet and took out a big, black semiautomatic.
    I said, “Glock nine millimeter?“
    “Is a Glock, but the ten mil, fifteen rounds in the mag. I come to the States, I want to buy American, but you do no got one with the punch and capacity, so I got to go German.“
    “Austrian.“
    “That’s not Germany?“
    “Not for a while, now.“
    “Huh.“
    He opened my door for me, then went around and got into the driver’s seat, pulling his shirt from the front of his pants and sticking the Glock in his right-front waistband, cross-draw for a lefty. I noticed the car was a manual transmission.
    As we started up, I said, “You like a stick shift?“
    “What, the car?“
    “Yes.“
    “No, but is safer.“
    “In traffic?“
    “Kind of. You read the papers?“
    “In Boston.“
    Pepe got us out of the garage and onto an access road. “Well, down here, you drive a little shitbox like this, stick-shift instead of the automatic, the bad guys, they do no think you tourist, so they do no try to jump you.“
    “Then why do you need the Glock?“
    “Some of the bad guys, they do no care if you tourist or no.“
    I nodded. We took an entrance ramp for a highway.
    He said, “Back last spring, when the jury let that cop off,
    Lozano?“
    “Yes?“
    “This whole road was block off. You could get on at the airport, and off at the hotels, but man, in between? Just cops everywhere, keep the airport people from getting off and the blacks from getting on.“
    I looked down at the deteriorated neighborhoods below and around us. “Rioting?“
    Not that time. But from before. Years ago.“
    Pepe glanced at me. “You gonna be driving around here after you see Mr. Vega, man?“
    “Yes.“
    “You get bump by somebody behind you, or they wave at you on the highway, yelling something about your tire or anything, you keep right on going, man. They try to ram you off the road, you ram them right back. Bad guys, man, you do no stop for them.“
    “Thanks for the advice.“
    “Just be sure you take it, huh? You need anything before we get to the house?“
    “No, but maybe afterward.“
    “Like what?“
    “Like a smaller cousin of what you took out of the trunk.“
    Pepe was thoughtful. “You ask Mr. Vega about the laws of Florida on that?“
    “I’ll still be wanting the cousin.“
    We got off the big highway. “How much smaller?“
    “Thirty-eight revolver.“
    “Man, you living in the past.“
    “I feel comfortable with it.“
    “You never use anything bigger?“
    “Just back when I knew Justo.“
    “The war?“
    “One of them, anyway.“
    A real grin this time, as he turned his head to me briefly. “You all right, man. But I never try to buy a revolver down here, do no have an idea what the market is like.“
    “Try for a two-inch barrel, Smith & Wesson or Colt. No Saturday Night Specials.“
    “How many you want?“
    I turned to him. “One ought to do it. A box of fifty rounds, too.“
    “Man, revolver, take you all day to fire off the fifty.“
    “Hopefully I won’t need that many.“
    “Then why you want them?“
    “I’ve been wrong before.“
    Pepe laughed.
    I looked at him. “I hope you’re a little quicker than this with the bad guys,“
    Pepe roared.
    * * *

    At the gate to the two-story coral-colored house, there was a sign next to an electronics box that read ARMED RESPONSE.
    I said, “Who’s the ‘armed response?’“
    “Me.“
    Pepe reached under the dash, and the gate came open. We drove in, and he reached under again, the gate closing behind us. He waited till it shut before continuing around the fountain to the front door. The fountain was of three cherubs in white porcelain, some irregular green stains on it. No water was flowing, none even sitting in the catch basin. There was thick shrubbery masking both the security fence and the sides of the house.
    “You go in. I got to secure the car.“
    “Secure it?“
    “Like to park it, man. Then