Big Trouble

Eliot took a couple of deep breaths, collecting himself, then stepped over the smashed gate and started walking quickly up the driveway. He had almost reached the front door when it burst open and he was almost knocked over by a lady police officer, whom he recognized, after a second, as the one he'd met here the other night. She looked very agitated. She grabbed Eliot by the front of his T-shirt.

"Which way did they go?" she said.

"The police?" said Eliot. "Those idiots damn near ... "

"Those aren't police," said Monica. "Those are robbers."

"What?" said Eliot. Then he saw Anna, looking even more agitated than Monica, and Matt, who had blood on his face and shirt.

"Matt!" he said. "Are you OK?"

"They got Jenny!" said Matt. "We gotta go after her!"

"They got Jenny?" said Eliot. "What are they ... "

"WHICH WAY DID THEY GO?" shouted Monica, shaking Eliot's T-shirt.

"That way," said Eliot, "straight down Garbanzo. We can follow them in my ... "

Monica, Matt, and Anna were already running for the Kia. Eliot caught up just in time to jump into the backseat with Anna. He was closing the door when somebody pulled it back open. It was Niña.

"Niña!" said Anna. "You shouldn't ... "

"You have to stay here," said Monica, starting the car. "¡Quedate!"

"No," said Niña, cramming in next to Eliot and slamming the door. She wasn't staying in this crazy house, especially not with Mr. Herk.

"Jesus," said Monica, mostly to herself, as she swung the Kia out of the driveway.

"Now what?" Snake asked Jenny. The police cruiser was headed north on Le Jeune Road.

"Just keep straight," said Jenny, her voice dull.

"Good girlie," said Snake. He stroked the back of her neck. She tried to pull away. He jerked her back close against him. His stink was strong in the closed car.

In the front seat, Eddie was gripping the wheel the way a drowning man grips a life preserver. His driving was erratic, but this was not unusual in Miami, a place where most motorists obeyed the traffic laws and customs of their individual countries of origin. Plus, Eddie was driving a police car, so even if he ran a red light—which he had already done, twice—nobody honked.

"Snake," he said, "there's gonna be a lotta people at the airport, and cops."

"So?" said Snake. He was not afraid of cops. He left cops handcuffed to entertainment units.

"So," said Eddie, trying to keep his voice calm, "we're inna cop car here, and case you forgot, we ain't no fuckin' cops. I'm thinkin', let's just pull over somewhere, leave the car, leave the girl, leave the guy in the trunk, take the money, and get the fuck outta here."

Snake sighed. "That's a loser talkin', Eddie," he said. "Don't you see what we done? We beat the bar assholes, we beat the cops, we beat the drug kingpin. We're winnin', Eddie. And we're gonna keep win-nin'." Snake could not believe he had wasted so much of his life hassling people for change. For fucking dimes. He was never going back to that. He was moving ahead, to the bright future that beckoned through the windshield, beyond the tightly clenched hands of his soon-to-be-ex-henchman.

Walter was so frustrated, he was about to tear his arm out of its socket. His partner was in a car chase. Involving armed robbers. This was something Walter had dreamed about ever since he'd gotten into police work, and he was handcuffed to an entertainment unit. With his own handcuffs!

Using the results of hundreds of grunting, sweating hours in the weight room, Walter gave a mighty yank on the entertainment unit, causing it to topple forward hard, its weight dragging both Walter and Arthur to their knees. The massive unit crashed to the floor, the glass shelves smashing and the stereo components bouncing across the room. But the frame remained intact; the thick steel tubes were welded solidly together.

"What the fuck did you do that for?" shouted Arthur.

"I'm trying to break this thing," said Walter.

"Don't you wanna get outta here? Don't you wanna go help your family?"

Arthur said nothing. The truthful answer was no.

"Shit," said Walter, yanking at his handcuff again. To Arthur, he said, "We need a telephone."

"They ripped them all out of this part of the house," said Arthur.

"You got a phone in the bedroom?" asked Walter. "Down the hall?"

"Yeah," said Arthur, "but how're we gonna ... "

"Help me get this thing up," said Walter, struggling to lift the frame.

"We can't move this thing that far," said Arthur.

"We're gonna try," said Walter.

"You can't make me," said Arthur.

Walter shoved the frame hard sideways; it hit Arthur in the shoulder.

"OW!" said Arthur.

"You help me move this thing," said Walter, "or I'll shove you into that wall and crush you like a bug."

With great effort, most of it provided by Walter, they got the entertainment unit upright and began dragging and pushing it toward the hall, where Walter discovered that it was too tall for the hallway ceiling.

"SHIT!" he said. "We hafta get outside."

"What?" said Arthur.

"We hafta get outside, yell for the neighbors," said Walter.