Chapter 10

Stars and Stripes: Despite new incentives, including a sign-up bonus for new enlistees, the Pentagon announced that the armed services would not reach their recruiting goals for the year. The National Guard is reporting a similar shortfall. The White House had no comment.

The next day Brendan awoke wondering if he had done something unforgivably stupid. The fat, jiggly clown could probably identify his face, which would not be a good thing for a man with a felony on his rap sheet. As he chewed on that possibility he found himself waving cutesy-like with his fingers at the pretty woman on the bus. They were too far away from each other to talk, for which he was grateful, but that ridiculous finger wave thing caused him to chastise himself as twice the idiot.

His morning amid the solvents did little to lift his spirits. Brendan was still pinching his nose to keep it from burning from the chemicals that striped the finish off of the furniture. As he was debating sticking his finger up his nose to see if he had any nostril hairs left, the front door opened. His heart flub-dubbed until he caught sight of the high end German car out front. If it wasn't American then it wasn't U.S. government. The man might be mafia, mob, or cartel, but at least he wasn't the Federales, as Julio put it.

"Can I help you?" Brendan asked the well-dressed man in a wool overcoat.

"Find Oscar and tell him to get his sorry ass out here before I send someone to flay it to the bone."

The haughty voice held a contempt that Brendan had only heard on bad TV dramas.

Brendan went around the corner to get Oscar, but the boss was already up and walking past him. Brendan thought the prudent course was to take a detour through the workshop until Oscar sounded the all clear. Even from the back, Brendan could hear the argument. Julio started to get rather agitated and stood up. All work in the shop ground to a halt as the angry words continued.

Now that Brendan knew what to look for, he easily spotted the baseball bats which were resting behind a stack of 2x4's on a shelf. He preferred the bats to guns, but he figured firearms were probably stashed somewhere around the workshop as well, if not in Oscar's office. The argument ebbed and flowed until finally it appeared to peter out.

Oscar stomped into the back.

"Blackmailing bastards!" he cursed, pointing to Julio and Brendan with a piece of paper. "You two, you go to this address with the truck and bring back the furniture they tell you to take."

Oscar turned on his heel to storm off but then he turned back.

"Julio, change the license plates before you go and try to get a pass card for the building. Someone's mother has to be a maid there. Si? And you, Teacher, you know what security cameras look like? You remember where all of them are. You come back and draw map of them. Both of you wear hats and hide your faces."

"Dead bodies, here we come," Brendan said as he shut the passenger side door.

"You funny man," Julio said in his best Asian voice. Brendon thought the accent was hilarious.

The drive up to the Fort Lee address wasn't so bad. The traffic lights were annoying, but the traffic wasn't too difficult through the crappy neighborhoods because few could afford to drive a car. Fort Lee, as the anchor of the Palisades Parkway and the George Washington Bridge, was an exclusive address. They pulled into the ground floor garage of an older, high-rise condo building that had a southern view of the George Washington Bridge stretching over the Hudson.

There was no guard on duty in the garage, but Brendan could see several cameras. The freight elevator was close to the trash bin from which rose a stink of rotting food. Julio took a few minutes to smoke a cigarette by the bin, which confused Brendan for a moment. He had never seen the man smoke before. Soon enough, a tired, middle-aged woman stepped off the elevator with a large trash can on wheels. Julio struck up a conversation with her in Spanish. At first the woman was hesitant, but she grew more animated as she shot her finger back and forth, making her points.

Having run out of steam, she waved goodbye and took her empty trashcan back to the elevator.

"We could have hitched a ride up," Brendan said.

Julio stubbed out his cigarette and threw it in the bin.

"No. We do it the right way and learn the building."

Next to the elevator was an intercom. Brendan pressed and announced that they were there for a pick up from the Worthington residence. The doors opened with a buzz and Julio punched the button for the 15th floor. Upstairs the man from the confrontation at the office met them at the door. They made three trips back down but only the dining table gave them any trouble. Even the couch was light.

Julio and Brendan got back to the workshop late, having gotten caught in rush hour traffic. Oscar was waiting for them at the shipping door and he looked as if he had been pacing for some time. Inside he sat the two men down and offered them a shot of no label liquor, probably a whiskey Brendan thought.

Julio and Brendan reviewed what they had seen. The cameras in the garage were unavoidable. There was only one camera in the elevator itself and it was on the right side. Julio pointed out that on the left side was a little door which contained an emergency phone and a touch pad override. The maid had given him the codes. The stairwells only had cameras at the ground floor and the hallways were only monitored at the front elevators. The freight elevator cameras on each floor had been disabled to save money but the elevator computer recorded each stop unless the bypass code was used.

"Why are we doing this?" Brendan asked.

"Because the sonofabitch who stole my money last week told his friend who came here today. They think they can fuck with me because they have something over my head, because they are big, important people. I will take my time, but they will learn not to fuck with Oscar. Maybe we just steal back their furniture they don't pay for; maybe we find something else."

With two dollars in his pocket, Brendan boarded a later bus and was pleasantly surprised to find it much less crowded. He found an entirely empty bench and plopped down next to the window. He was scratching his five o'clock shadow when he felt a presence slide into the plastic seat next to him. He looked directly into the smiling eyes of his pretty bus woman.

"Work late today?"

"Yeah," Brendan answered unable to take his eyes off of her and finding his tongue clumsy.

"Jacinta," she said. "My name is Jacinta."

"Brendan, but most people call me Danny."

Jacinta smiled. "Do you have a girlfriend, Danny?"

Brendan took a deep sigh. "I had one, but there was the riot in Secaucus. I mean, that's why I was at the church that Saturday night."

She put her hand on his. "I'm sorry. Did she get killed in the demonstration?"

Danny felt self-conscious like he had never felt before except for his first shower in prison. "No, she's alive. It was her house where the riot began. The first cops were shot on her porch."

"You were boyfriend with the, um, family planning lady?"

Brendan tensed up suddenly, fearful that someone could easily be eavesdropping on their conversation. He glanced around Jacinta and then behind them where an older woman was lightly snoring. He took his hand from underneath hers and placed it on top of her hand.

He dropped his voice and leaned close to her.

"We can't talk about such things here. We don't know any of these people or who might be listening."

She clutched his hand. "Take me out this weekend and we can talk."

Brendan fished for an excuse and leapt upon a weak one.

"I don't have much money for a date."

"Me neither. You can meet me at Saturday night Mass and then we can go do a little something."

Brendan tried again. "What about your brother? Won't he be unhappy with me?"

"Hugo works at the hospital with your sister, nurse Sheila. He respects her and he checked you out with her. He is the one who suggested that I talk to you."

"Church, huh?"

Brendan saw no way out without being entirely rude. Then again, some part of him wanted to go out on Saturday night. He surrendered to her eyes and nodded his acceptance. He couldn't help himself and glanced at her figure, finding it enticing.

"Service begins at 6:45, after sundown," she said.

He stayed seated, holding her hand but saying little. He enjoyed the little bit of warmth on top his leg and her arm against his. As he stood up at his stop, Jacinta stood with him and gave him a peck on the cheek. He blushed down to his toes and whispered "goodbye" in her ear.