Under Airport Blues

Handle turned and the door opened. Apartment dim in the post midnight black. Only light came in from the door and the window looking out at the apartment block next door. Stepped inside and turned on the lights. Neon flickered in the kitchen and spilled into the living room. Couch was a mess of magazines and trash and empty. 

Went to the kitchen and took down some ramen. Made it without thought and ate it on the balcony. Overcast but the sky was litup, reflecting the runway lights and the building shook as a redeye took off and passed overhead. Had a cigarette afterwards. Sound of television next door drowned out by plane passing overhead. Air smelt like the sea.

Money was what it came down to.

Apartment might be a shithole shaken by every flight in or out but it was better than the gutter. Real work had come and gone. Finding new employment with unique qualifications unlikely. School of hard knocks with a major in hustling didn't get a job anywhere but slinging grease for corporate eateries. Didn't leave much but old tricks.

Old tricks get people killed. Gotta be desperate to go back. Weighed it, smoking cigarette on the balcony watching the sky turn red. Anything was better than the gutter. Called Wesley and asked for work.

"Been awhile," Wesley says.

"Went straight" I said.

"Knew you'd be back" he said. Wesley is a real asshole.

Told me he'd call back so I go in and crawl into bed. Can't find the covers, so I sleep in a ball.

I can feel it, under the mattress. The gun.

---

First cigarette always tastes best. Coffee hot and bitter and terrible. Waiting outside a Gas'n'Go down the street from apartment. Waiting for Wesley and the job. Girls with him when he pulls in. I climb in and don't say a goddamn word. Leave cigarette smoldering on curb. Wesley doesn't smoke.

"Heard tell of a deal." Wesley says.

I don't say shit.

"Some dealer pricks moving a key up. Carrying cash." The girl giggles and rubs at her nose. "We bust up the deal and take the cash and the goods." Wesley looks in the rear view mirror. "Even split."

I shrug. Bag at side contains M4. Old military grade assault rifle. I call it Ehud after a very old story. More than smalltimers will have. With surprise they will be cut down by it. With no surprise, maybe Wesley dies. Or the girl. Or me. 

Girl is unknown quantity. Newcomer. She is high. Carries handgun shoved down back of her pants. Loose cannon.

Across the DMZ and over the border. Easy. Wait until we're across to put Ehud together. Magazine snaps home and girl looks back. I don't say anything. She stares.

"So who the fuck are you?" She says.

"Nobody." I say.

Wesley laughs. Asshole.

Sun hitting horizon when we stop the car and climb out. Rest of the way is hiking. Car hidden. No treadmarks on soft dirt for paranoid dealers to spook at.

Set up an ambush. Hidden among scrubs and rocks. 

Girl up close. Shotgun.

Wesley at gulch mouth. Covering exit.

Me, high up the hill, behind rocks. Good view.

First group, they show up at eight. Four of them in a jeep. One of them carries an AK. They smoke and build a campfire and talk in Spanish.

Second group, they show up past noon. First guys, they don't like that. Arguing happens. Argument ends fast when the girl gets impatient and blows hole in second groups bosses chest. Things go downhill.

Girl takes second shot, catches man with AK across the ribs but he is smart, and wears vest. He is on his back and screaming but he pulls trigger and he ends her.

So here I am on the hill, looking down the sights at seven pissed off Mexicans and knowing that it is lost and the job is over. They are running now, back into the jeep and car. I could shoot and maybe kill a few, but the money and the coke are gone.

I meet Wesley near the campfire when they are gone.

"Why the fuck didn't you shoot, man?" He says.

"Girl fucked it." Kneeling by her body. Search her wallet. Take the bills tucked in it and leave the rest.

"Bullshit." Wesley says. "You should have covered her."

I lay a hand on Ehud and look at him. He looks at me. I do not see his gun.

"She is dead and they're gone." I say. I take the wallet of the dead dealer, too. 

"Pinche cabron," Wesley says. I see his gun now. Coming from behind his back. I am kneeling over the dead man.

I bring Ehud up but it is pointless. A man with a pistol shoots faster than a man with a rifle. He shoots me in the chest, bang, and I fall down.

But I am a smart man. I can feel my ribs break but the vest holds. So I shoot Wesley. He is smart too, but his vest doesn't stop 5.56 AP at close range. 

Desert is quiet so I lie there and do nothing. Breathing hurts. But I get up and I take Wesley's wallet and gun and keys. They are not much, but they will pay another months rent, maybe. The car, especially. 

The walk out is long because breathing hurts. I would smoke but cigarettes were crushed when Wesley shot me. Fucking asshole.

Car is where we left it. Girl left her cellphone on the passenger seat, with cigarettes. I take one of hers and light it from the dash. Pick up her phone. It rings. Picture is the girl, younger. There is a man with her. They are smiling. 

I throw it out the window and drive away.