Geek Mafia: Mile Zero, Rick Dakan [reading an ebook .TXT] 📗
- Author: Rick Dakan
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“Thanks,” said Chloe.
Isaiah reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Chloe. “This is a cashier’s check for $50,000.”
“So it is,” said Chloe, looking at the check. Paul, looking over her shoulder, was excited to see the money but confused about why Isaiah was offering it to them.
“I can get you cash instead if you prefer,” Isaiah said.
“That would be easier,” Chloe said, handing the check back to him. “And why’re you giving us $50,000 again?”
“To cover some of the damages and expenses you’ve incurred these past few days. I feel in some small part responsible for Eddie and his outrageous attack on your home.”
“Responsible?” asked Paul, wondering for the first time if Isaiah had really set up the attack. Had he been pulling all the strings the entire time?
“In a small, indirect way, yes. I knew that Eddie’s temper was volatile, and yet I encouraged you to challenge him. In the end, we got the right result - Marco in charge of the Crew and Eddie out of the picture. But I never thought it would get as dangerous and violent as it did.”
“So you’re giving us fifty grand,” said Chloe. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to it than that?”
“Because there is,” said Isaiah. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. We’re all impressed with how you two have handled yourselves. No one doubts your intelligence or drive. But there are concerns within the group about your close ties to Winston and about the relatively small size of your Crew.”
“So you’re not going to give us a seat on the board after all,” concluded Paul. This didn’t actually strike him as very bad news at all, but he knew Chloe probably felt different.
“Oh come on, that’s bullshit,” Chloe said. “We’ve stuck our necks way out there for this. We turned the killer and Winston in. My friendship with him is destroyed. Gone. Kaput. I think we’ve earned…”
“Were you planning on telling us that Winston had been trying to subvert my plan all along?” asked Isaiah. Chloe didn’t have an answer. In his haste to avert violence, Paul had admitted knowing that Winston was working against the shadow corporation. “I understand why you did what you did. You no doubt made some deal with Winston in order to get him and Jacob to come forward at all. I understand, really. But you can see how this works against you. It leaves one with the impression that you, at least until very recently, valued your connection to Winston more than the security of the group.”
“So you’re just going to just pay us off and kick us out,” grumbled Chloe.
“Pay you off, yes. But not kick you out. We’re simply not inviting you to sit on the board. You and Paul will be our first regular members. You’ll get all the benefits I’ve discussed before and you’ll play valuable supporting roles in taking down our first target.”
“Supporting roles. We just won’t be in charge of setting things up,” said Paul, trying to put a positive spin on Isaiah’s offer. It sounded fair to him, and quite frankly he was happy to not have the burden of trying to herd this corporation of cats that Isaiah was trying to put together.
“And we won’t have a full share of the profits,” added Chloe. “Or a say in how things are run.”
“All members will have a say in how things are run. An equal say,” insisted Isaiah. “As for your share, it will be commensurate to your contribution as a supporting member. But as long as you stay with us and pay your dues, you’ll reap many benefits.”
“And how much are these dues?” asked Chloe.
“We’re starting at $50,000 per year,” he replied with a straight face.
Chloe gave him a short, humorless chortle. “You got some fucking balls on you.”
Isaiah smiled a wide, white toothed grin. “You better believe I do.” He held out the check to her again. “Do you still want this cashed or shall I put it toward your dues?”
Chloe and Paul looked at each other and both knew immediately what the other was thinking. “We’ll get back to you on that,” said Chloe. It wasn’t a decision to be made lightly and in the heat of things. Big money decisions never were. “We need to talk with the rest of our Crew.”
Isaiah nodded. “That’s fine,’ he said. “You have until 10 a.m. tomorrow to let me know. Otherwise I’ll send someone around with the cash.” He put the check back in his shirt pocket. “Now if you’ll please excuse us, we’ve a lot of work to do here still. Can you see yourselves out?”
They could and they did.
PAUL and Chloe sat on a low wall on Duval Street, eating ice cream. They sat in silence for a long time, just watching the flow of tourists as it moved back and forth in front of them. To their left stood a man with a parrot in one hand and an iguana in the other, offering passersby a chance to pose with his pets for a mere $5 a picture. More than a few took him up on it. Just one more of the many weird ways people made a living in Key West.
The unasked question between the two of them was how were they going to make a living? Would they keep the status quo or try and break out into a brave new world through Isaiah’s shadow corporation? Paul wanted the former, Chloe the latter. Both of them knew that as soon as they started talking about it, the conversation would become heated, so they both were trying to put it off as long as possible. But they’d run out of other topics to delay the inevitable, and the ice cream was almost gone.
“I think we should let Isaiah keep the money,” Chloe said.
“You mean as our first year’s dues?” Paul asked.
“Well, maybe. But either way. I don’t want to take his money. I don’t want to feel like we owe him.”
Paul thought about that for a moment. “On the other hand, we could take the money and still not feel like we owe him anything. I pretty much feel he does owe us at least that much. Plus we’d have the money, which we could use.”
“Hmm,” mused Chloe. “That’s a good point. Money is good.”
“Money is good,” Paul agreed. “So we should take the cash?”
“Unless we want to use it for our dues,” she said.
“Yeah, well, that’s true…”
“Do we want to use it for our dues?” she asked.
“Do we want to pay dues?”
“I guess that’s what I’m asking.”
“What do you want?” Paul asked. “Do you want to pay?”
“I don’t want to pay. I never want to pay. But I think maybe we should.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because it’s a good idea,” said Chloe. “It’s a big opportunity for us, and big opportunities are few and far between on this island.”
“And you’re not happy with the way things are?” Paul asked.
“Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?”
“Just stalling for time, I guess.”
“Yeah,” said Chloe, taking a bite of peanut butter cup ice cream. “So what do you think?”
“You know what I think,” he replied.
“You’re happy the way things are.”
“I am. Mostly. Mostly I am.”
“Just mostly?” she asked.
“Well, I’m not happy that you’re not happy. I am happy to not have to worry about Isaiah and Winston and Eddie and Raff and…”
“Me too,” said Chloe, interrupting him.
“You too what?” he asked
“I’m happy too that we don’t have to worry about them. It’s like wrestling with moray eels, dealing with all those guys.”
“We’d be doing a lot of wrestling if we started paying them dues,” Paul pointed out.
“Yeah.”
Paul ate the last of his Oreo ice cream, scraping the bottom of the cup with his plastic spoon. “What about what Winston suggested?”
“Which thing that Winston suggested?”
“About striking out on our own.”
“We’re already on our own,” Chloe pointed out. “That’s the problem.”
“But we have those names he gave us. We have some new contacts. Maybe there’s some middle ground.”
Chloe finished her ice cream, sucking the sugar cone dry and crunching through the last of it. “Middle ground. Do it on our own. No Isaiah or Jeanie or Marco…”
“Or Raff,” Paul added.
“Or Raff. We form our own little shadow corporation. Follow Isaiah’s plan but follow it on our own.”
“How hard can it be?”
“Pretty fucking hard, I would imagine,” said Chloe.
“Well, it would give us something to do,” Paul replied with a smile. “And we’re pretty smart folks. I’m sure we can figure it out.”
“Yeah,” she said. “We are. But we’ll need more people to make it work.”
“I know.”
“And we’re not going to find them here in Key West. It’s going to involve a lot of travel. A lot of trouble. A lot of talking to some real freaky people,” she said.
“Oh, I know. And a lot of testing and false starts and background checks and all kinds of other challenges.”
“And you’re up for that?” she asked.
“I am if you are. I’m up for doing it together.”
“Together,” Chloe agreed. “Absolutely.”
They sat together and held hands, watching the crowd flow by, happy for the moment that they had a plan. Even if it was a crazy plan. But they were all crazy plans. That’s what made them worth doing.
Chloe’s phone rang. She unclipped it from her belt and looked at the caller ID before answering it. “Hello?” she said.
“Hi, it’s Sandee,” said the voice on the other end.
“Hey sweetie,” said Chloe. “Everything ok? Did Winston pick up Jacob and all that?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Sandee said. “Bee and I were just watching the two of you hold hands on the camera here and we wanted to tell you, you look awfully cute.”
Chloe looked up and around and spotted one of Bee’s hidden camera mounts on a telephone pole across the street. She waved at it. Paul, realizing what she was doing, did the same. “That’s sweet of you to say,” Chloe said to Sandee. “Was there anything else?”
“Just that that ice cream is going to go straight to your ass,” said Sandee.
“Is there anything else I don’t know?” Chloe asked with a laugh.
“Oh yeah, Bee wanted me to ask what we’re going to do now that all the out of town guests are leaving?”
Chloe turned to Paul and said, “Bee wants to know what’s next. What should I tell them?”
“Tell them we’re going to get some more ice cream and then we’re coming home,” said Paul.
“And after that?”
“After that, we’re going to get drunk as skunks.”
“And after that?”
“After that, we’re going to start our own little revolution,” said Paul with a grin.
“Did you hear all that?” Chloe asked Sandee.
“Ice cream, fat asses, drinks, revolution. Got it,” replied Sandee. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Sounds crazy to me,” said Chloe. “But yep, that’s the plan.”
She hung up the phone and then gave Paul a great big wet, sloppy French kiss. “What kind of ice cream do revolutionaries eat?” she asked him.
“Whatever kind they want,” said Paul. “What’s the point of smashing the state if you can’t have your favorite ice cream?”
“No point at all,” said Chloe.
Hand in hand they started down the
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