in.
Gragg zipped up his pants and moved away, feeling the endorphins course through his body.
Heider suddenly appeared next to him, laughing. ‘You’re an evil man, Loki.’ Heider handed him a bottle of water.
‘At least I got laid tonight.’
Heider poked a finger into Gragg’s chest. ‘At least I don’t need a thousand people to orchestrate a blow job.’ He looked back at the girl starting on another guy. ‘Is she gonna remember any of this?’
‘Probably not. And even if she does, she won’t. If you know what I mean.’ Gragg looked at his watch. ‘Listen, meet me back at the car at three a.m. sharp. I’ve got to meet the Filipinos.’
Heider nodded absently, still watching the girl work.
Gragg punched his arm.
‘Ow!’
‘I mean it. Meet me at the car at three a.m. sharp – or you’ll have to bum a ride off the Albanian mob. Got it?’
‘All right. I got it. Now if you’ll excuse me … ‘ At that, Heider stepped away to join the circle of men.
By 3:15 a.m., Gragg and Heider were back on the Katy Freeway heading east. Heider was leaning against the passenger door fucked up out of his mind.
‘That MPEG video over the dance floor. It showed rams butting heads. Butting their heads! Their fucking heads!’ He was weeping, but then suddenly erupted into uncontrollable laughter. He was apparently laughing about having just been crying.
Gragg focused on driving. He headed north and east for a half hour or so, then exited in a seedy industrial district amid rail sidings. They rattled along potholed streets. With each bone-shuddering bump, Gragg winced. The ground effects on his Si were going to get thrashed at this rate. He also felt like a prime car-jacking target in this industrial wasteland.
Yet, as he looked around the deserted factory streets, it didn’t look like a popular gang hangout. The streets were too broken and crisscrossed with railroad sidings for the street-racing scene.
Before long, Gragg found the street he was looking for. He turned down the dead end and parked next to a rusted chain-link fence topped with brand-new razor wire. It enclosed flatbed tractor-trailers in various stages of decay.
At the end of the street stood a brick factory building marked INDUSTRIAL LAUNDRY CORP in faded paint. The windows near the roof glowed with fluorescent light from within, and the double doors near the loading dock were open wide, letting a wedge of light splay out across the weed-encrusted sidewalk. Signs in some Asian script covered the backs of both open doors. A couple of men in white aprons smoked out front, apparently on break.
Gragg turned off the car and looked at Heider’s dozingform. He quietly pulled a piece of paper from his own jacket pocket and glanced at the code number written on it in pen. He took his car keys from the ignition and carefully slipped them into Heider’s pocket. It wasn’t difficult. In fact, he hoped he could still rouse Heider, who was out cold.
He nudged him. No response. He shoved Heider. Then finally shook him. ‘Heider, man! Wake up.’
Heider awoke slowly, still high out of his mind. ‘What the fuck, man?’
‘I need you to pick up the new encryption key from my contact. He’s in there.’ He pointed.
Heider squinted and looked back at him like he was insane. ‘Fuck you, man. You go.’
‘Heider. Take a look around you. I’m not leaving my car sitting out here – and you’ll fall asleep the minute I’m gone. You know what I put into this ride?’
‘Well, then why the fuck did you park a mile away, asshole?’
‘A semi was just in the loading dock.’
‘I don’t know who your fucking contact is.’
‘Just give them this code number.’ Gragg handed him the piece of paper. ‘They won’t even ask who you are. You’re just picking up the code.’
Heider wavered fuzzily, trying to process what Gragg just said.
Gragg sighed impatiently. ‘Christ, Jase, why do I have to do everything? I arranged the business; I keep you