Savages

worries” he worries.
    “I want to pick it up clean in Jakarta,” Ben tells Spin. “Half in dollars, half in local currency.”
    “Lot of lettuce to be carrying around, boss.”
    “It’s okay,” Ben says. “Also, so you can plan your personal finances, I want to tell you that we’re getting out of the old
pista secreta.
”
    “
Amigo
…” Spin is shocked.
    A world without Ben and Chonny’s?
    “We’ve had a good run,” Chon says. “You’ve made a lot of money.”
    A lot is a lot.
    But never enough.

91
     
    O decides to start at Banana Republic.
    In South Coast Plaza, natch.
    (Don’t geek, we’re not going to go through the whole list again.)
    She never sees the car that followed her home, follows her out again. She parks the car and goes in.
    Esteban, one of the three men in the car following her, calls Lado.

92
     
    Who is in his office dealing with landscaping shit.
    Everybody wants everything done at the same time—which is right now—and they want the same service for less money. They’re all looking for bargains these days, the ones who haven’t just dropped the service—a comical sight, a
guero
trying to start a weed whacker—but Lado hasn’t been hit too hard. Most of his business is condo associations and he’s also found a little recession niche market—banks and Realtors need foreclosed properties cleaned up in order to sell them.
    He sees the caller ID and walks outside to take the call.
    Gives the Nike response—Just Do It.
    These boys are good, they know what to do.

93
     
    O decided to go all Kristin Scott Thomas with the travel wardrobe.
    Spare but sensual.
    Lotsa white and khaki. What she can’t find is
that
hat—big, floppy, packable, but still sexy—so she decides to leave SCP and drive over to Fashion Island in Newport Beach.
    She gets back in her car, turns the key, and feels the blade at the back of her neck.
    “Just drive,
chica.
”
    She drives where the voice tells her, across Bristol into Costa Mesa, down some streets and to the back side of a little strip mall, where a Mexican in a baseball cap gets in the passenger side and jabs a needle in her thigh.

94
     
    Chon gets the e-mail with the attached vid-clip.
    Calls Ben over.
    It’s O.
    Sitting in a chair in a nondescript room.
    Ugly yellow walls.
    A chain saw at her feet.

95
     
    Then the vid artist does this really cute thing—
    O’s head just pops off her shoulders and starts floating around thescreen.
    A phone number comes up.

96
     
    Ben hits the number.
    Asks, “What do you want?”
    Chon says, “Give me the phone.”
    Ben isn’t doing that. For Chon to say, “Fuck you,” and then they
really
separate O’s head from her body.
    Reality versus virtuality.
    “I need proof of life,” Ben says.
    A phrase he remembers from some movie.
    No problem
    Skype.

97
     
    O looks scared.
    Of course she does.
    Scared and stoned. They gave her something.
    “Hi.”
    “Hi.”
    “Did they hurt you?” Chon asks.
    Ready to
rip
.
    O says, “No, I’m okay.”
    Ben says, “I’m so sorry about this.”
    “It’s okay.”
    Her image goes off the screen.
    Replaced by audio.

98
     
    An electronically altered voice says, “Let me speak with Mr. Let’s Cut the Shit.”
    “I’m here.”
    “Let’s cut the shit, shall we? You will make the first delivery to me, at the price I demand, within the next five hours or you will receive an e-mail that you will not like.”
    “No problem.”
    “Really? Because it was a problem before.”
    “It’s not now.”
    “Good. Now let me speak to Mr. Fuck You.”
    “I’m on,” Chon says.
    “You insulted me.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Sorry isn’t good enough.”
    “Whatever you want,” Chon says.
    “I assume you have a pistol. Get it.”
    Chon gets his .38. “I have it.”
    “Stand in front of the camera where I can see you.”
    Chon does.
    “Now stick it in that big mouth of yours,” the voice says.
    They can hear O scream, “Chon, donnnn’t!!!”
    But they also hear a chain saw start up and the voice say, “Her hands first …”
    “I’m doing it, I’m doing it!”
    Ben’s in shock. Weird, sick, nightmare shock.
    Chon opens his mouth and swallows the barrel.
    “Now pull the trigger.”
    Chon squeezes the trigger.

99
     
    “Stop!”
    “Jesus Christ.” Ben’s knees give out from under him and he’s suddenly sitting on the floor with his face in his hands.
    “Take the gun out.”
    Chon slowly pulls the barrel from his mouth. Slowly because