璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第75部分

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The　neighborhoods　were　so。。。　sad；　he　thought。　Shabby　storefronts　of　what　had　been　mom…and…pop　grocery　stores；　probably　run　out　of　business　by　supermarkets　which　had　themselves　been　wrecked　in　the　‘68　rioting；　opening　a　hole　in　the　economic　fabric　of　the　area；　but　one　not　yet　filled。　The　cracked　cement　of　the　sidewalks　was　littered　with　all　manner　of　debris。　Were　there　people　who　lived　here？　Who　were　they？　What　did　they　do？　What　were　their　dreams？　Surely　not　all　could　be　criminals。　Did　they　hide　at　night？　And　if　then；　what　about　the　daylight？　Kelly　had　learned　it　in　Asia：　give　the　enemy　one　part　of　the　day　and　he　would　secure　it　for　himself；　and　then　expand　it；　for　the　day　had　twenty…four　hours；　and　he　would　want　them　all　for　himself　and　his　activities。　No；　you　couldn‘t　give　the　other　side　anything；　not　a　time；　not　a　place；　nothing　that　they　could　reliably　use。　That‘s　how　people　lost　a　war；　and　there　was　a　war　going　on　here。　And　the　winners　were　not　the　forces　of　good。　That　realization　struck　him　hard。　Kelly　had　already　seen　what　he　knew　to　be　a　losing　war。
The　dealers　were　a　diverse　group；　Kelly　saw　as　he　cruised　past　their　sales　area。　Their　posture　told　him　of　their　confidence。　They　owned　the　streets　at　this　hour。　There　might　be　petition　from　one　to　the　other；　a　nasty　Darwinian　process　that　determined　who　owned　what　segment　of　what　sidewalk；　who　had　territorial　rights　in　front　of　this　or　that　broken　window；　but　as　with　all　such　petition；　things　would　soon　attain　some　sort　of　stability；　and　business　would　be　conducted；　because　the　purpose　of　the　petition　was　business；　after　all。
He　turned　right　onto　a　new　street。　The　thought　evoked　a　grunt　and　a　thin；　ironic　smile。　New　street？　No；　these　streets　were　old　ones；　so　old　that　‘good‘　people　had　left　them　years　ago　to　move　out　of　the　city　into　greener　places；　allowing　other　people；　deemed　less　valuable　than　themselves；　to　move　in；　and　then　they　too　had　moved　away；　and　the　cycle　had　continued　for　another　few　generations　until　something　had　gone　very　badly　wrong　to　create　what　he　saw　now　in　this　place。　It　had　taken　an　hour　or　so　for　him　to　grasp　the　fact　that　there　were　people　here；　not　just　trash…laden　sidewalks　and　criminals。　He　saw　a　woman　leading　a　child　by　the　hand　away　from　a　bus　stop。　He　wondered　where　they　were　returning　from。　A　visit　with　an　aunt？　The　public　library？　Some　place　whose　attractions　were　worth　the　unfortable　passage　between　the　bus　stop　and　home；　past　sights　and　sounds　and　people　whose　very　existence　could　damage　that　little　child。
Kelly‘s　back　got　straighter　and　his　eyes　narrower。　He‘d　seen　that　before。　Even　in　Vietnam；　a　country　at　war　since　before　his　birth；　there　were　still　parents；　and　children；　and；　even　in　war；　a　desperate　quest　for　something　like　normality。　Children　needed　to　play　some　of　the　time；　to　be　held　and　loved；　protected　from　the　harsher　aspects　of　reality　for　as　long　as　the　courage　and　talents　of　their　parents　could　make　that　possible。　And　it　was　true　here；　too。　Everywhere　there　were　victims；　all　innocent　to　some　greater　or　lesser　degree；　and　the　children　the　most　innocent　of　all。　He　could　see　it　there；　fifty　yards　away；　as　the　young　mother　led　her　child　across　the　street；　short　of　the　corner　where　a　dealer　stood；　making　a　transaction。　Kelly　slowed　his　car　to　allow　her　safe　passage；　hoping　that　the　care　and　love　she　showed　that　night　would　make　a　difference　to　her　child。　Did　the　dealers　notice　her？　Were　the　ordinary　citizens　worthy　of　note　at　all？　Were　they　cover？　Potential　customers？　Nuisances？　Prey？　And　what　of　the　child？　Did　they　care　at　all？　Probably　not。
‘Shit；‘　he　whispered　quietly　to　himself；　too　detached　to　show　his　anger　openly。
‘What？‘　Pam　asked。　She　was　sitting　quietly；　leaning　away　from　the　window。
‘Nothing。　Sorry。‘　Kelly　shook　his　head　and　continued　his　observation。　He　was　actually　beginning　to　enjoy　himself。　It　was　like　a　reconnaissance　mission。　Reconnaissance　was　learning；　and　learning　had　always　been　a　passion　for　Kelly。　Here　was　something　pletely　new。　Sure；　it　was　evil；　destructive；　ugly；　but　it　was　also　different；　which　made　it　exciting。　His　hands　tingled　on　the　wheel。
The　customers　were　diverse；　too。　Some　were　obviously　local；　you　could　tell　from　their　color　and　shabby　clothing。　Some　were　more　addicted　than　others；　and　Kelly　wondered　what　that　meant。　Were　the　apparently　functional　ones　the　newly　enslaved？　Were　the　shambling　ones　the　veterans　of　self…destruction；　heading　irrevocably　towards　their　own　deaths？　How　could　a　normal　person　look　at　them　and　not　be　frightened　that　it　was　possible　to　destroy　yourself　one　dose　at　a　time？　What　drove　people　to　do　this？　Kelly　nearly　stopped　the　car　with　that　thought。　That　was　something　beyond　his　experience。
Then　there　were　the　others；　the　ones　with　medium…expensive　cars　so　clean　that　they　had　to　e　from　the　suburbs；　where　standards　had　to　be　observed。　He　pulled　past　one　and　gave　the　driver　a　quick　look。　Even　wears　a　tie！　Loose　in　the　collar　to　allow　for　his　nervousness　in　a　neighborhood　such　as　this　one；　using　one　hand　to　roll　down　the　window　while　the　other　perched　at　the　top　of　the　wheel；　his　right　foot　doubtless　resting　lightly　on　the　gas　pedal；　ready　to　jolt　the　car　forward　if　danger　should　threaten。　The　driver‘s　nerves　must　be　on　edge；　Kelly　thought；　watching　him　in　the　mirror。　He　could　not　be　fortable　here；　but　he　had　e　anyway。　Yes；　there　it　was。　Money　was　passed　out　the　window；　and　something　received　for　it；　and　the　car　moved　off　as　quickly　as　the　traffic…laden　street　would　allow。　On　a　whim；　Kelly　followed　the　Buick　for　a　few　blocks；　turning　right；　then　left　onto　a　main　artery；　where　the　car　got　into　the　left　lane　and　stayed　there；　driving　as　rapidly　as　was　prudent　to　get　the　hell　out　of　this　dreary　part　of　the　city；　but　without　drawing　the　unwanted　attention　of　a　police　officer　with　a　citation　book。
Yeah；　the　police；　Kelly　thought　as　he　gave　up　the　pursuit。　Where　the　hell　are　they？　The　law　was　being　violated　with　all　the　apparent　drama　of　a　block　party；　but　they　were　nowhere　to　be　seen。　He　shook　his　head　as　he　turned　back　into　the　trading　area。　The　disconnect　from　his　own　neighborhood　in　Indianapolis；　merely　ten　years　before；　was　vast。　How　had　things　changed　so　rapidly？　How　had　he　missed　it？　His　time　in　the　Navy；　his　life　on　the　island；　had　insulated　him　from　everything。　He　was　a　rube；　an　innocent；　a　tourist　in　his　own　country。
He　looked　over　at　Pam。　She　seemed　all　right；　though　a　little　tense。　Those　people　were　dangerous；　but　not　to　the　two　of　them。　He‘d　been　careful　to　remain　invisible；　to　drive　like　everyone　else；　meandering　around　the　few　blocks　of　the　‘business‘　area　in　an　irregular　pattern。　He　was　not　blind　to　the　dangers；　Kelly　told　himself。　In　searching　for　patterns　of　activity；　he　hadn‘t　made　any　of　his　own。　If　anyone　had　eyeballed　him　and　his　vehicle　especially　hard；　he　would　have　noticed。　And　besides；　he　still　had　his　Colt　。45　between　his　legs。　However　formidable　these　thugs　might　appear；　they　were　nothing　pared　to　the　North　Veitnamese　and　Vietcong　he‘d　faced。　They‘d　been　good。　He‘d　been　better。　There　was　danger　on　these　streets；　but　far　less　than　he　had　survived　already。
Fifty　yards　away　was　a　dealer　dressed　in　a　silk　shirt　that　might　have　been　brown　or　maroon。　It　was　hard　to　tell　the　color　in　the　poor　illumination；　but　it　had　to　be　silk　from　the　way　it　reflected　light。　Probably　real　silk；　Kelly　was　willing　to　bet。　There　was　a　flashiness　to　these　vermin。　It　wasn‘t　enough　for　them　merely　to　violate　the　law；　was　it？　Oh；　no；　they　had　to　let　people　know　how　bold　and　daring　they　were。
Dumb；　Kelly　thought。　Very　dumb　to　draw　attention　to　yourself　that　way。　When　you　do　dangerous　things；　you　conceal　your　identity；　conceal　your　very　presence；　and　always　leave　yourself　with　at　least　one　route　of　escape。
‘It‘s　amazing　they　can　get　away　with　this；‘　Kelly　whispered　to　himself。
‘Huh？‘　Pam‘s　head　turned。
‘They‘re　so　stupid。‘　Kelly　waved　at　the　dealer　near　the　corner。　‘Even　if　the　cops　don‘t　do　anything；　what　if　somebody　decides　to　…　I　mean；　he‘s　holding　a　lot　of　money；　right？‘
‘Probably　a　thousand；　maybe　two　thousand；‘　Pam　replied。
‘So　what　if　somebody　tries　to　rob　him？‘
‘It　happens；　but　he‘s　carrying　a　gun；　too；　and　if　anyone　tries　…　‘
‘Oh　…　the　guy　in　the　doorway？‘
‘He‘s　the　real　dealer；　Kelly。　Didn‘t　you　know　that？　They　guy　in　the　shirt　is　his　lieutenant。　He‘s　the　guy　who　does　the　actual　…　what　do　you　call　it？‘
‘Transaction；‘　Kelly　replied　dryly；　reminding　himself　that　he‘d　failed　to　spot　something；　knowing　that　he‘d　allowed　his　pride　to　overe　his　caution。　Not　a　good　habit；　he　told　himself。
Pam　nodded。　‘That‘s　right。　Watch　…　watch　him　now。‘
Sure　enough；　Kelly　saw　what　he　now　realized　was　the　full　transaction。　Someone　in　a　car　…　another　visitor　from　the　suburbs；　Kelly　thought　…　handed　over　his　money　（an　assumption；　since　Kelly　couldn‘t　really　see；　but　surely　it　wasn‘t　a　Bank　Americard）。　The　lieutenant　reached　inside　the　shirt　and　handed　something　back。　As　the　car　pulled　off；　the　one　in　the　flamboyant　shirt　moved　across　the　sidewalk；　and　in　shadows　that　Kelly‘s　eyes　could　not　quite　perate　there　was　another　exchange。
‘Oh；　I　get　it。　The　lieutenant　holds　the　drugs　and　makes　the　exchange；　but　he　gives　the　money　to　his　boss。　The　boss　holds　the　earnings；　but　he　also　has　a　gun　to　make　sure　nothing　goes　wrong。　They‘re　not　as　dumb　as　I　thought　they　were。‘　
‘They‘re　smart　enough。‘
Kelly　nodded　and　made　a　mental　note；　chastising　himself　for　having　made　at　least　two　wrong　assumptions。　But　that‘s　why　you　did　reconnaissance；　after　all。
Let‘s　not　get　too　fortable；　Kelly；　he　told　himself。　Now　you　know　that　there‘s　two　bad　guys　up　there；　one　armed　and　well　concealed　in　that　doorway。　He　settled　in　his　seat　and　locked　his　eyes　on　the　potential　threat；　watching　for　patterns　of　activity。　The　one　in　the　doorway　would　be　the　real　target。　The　misnamed　‘lieutenant‘　was　just　a　hireling；　maybe　an　apprentice；　undoubtedly　expendable；　living　on　crumbs　or　mission。　The　one　he　could　just　barely　see　was　the　real　enemy。　And　that　fit　the　time…honored　pattern；　didn‘t　it？　He　smiled；　remembering　a　regional　political　officer　for　the　NVA。　That　job　had　even　carried　a　code　name。　ERMINE　COAT。　Four　days　they‘d　stalked　that　bastard；　after　they‘d　positively　identified　him；　just　to　make　sure　he　was　the　one；　then　to　learn　his　habits；　and　determine　the　best　possible　way　to　punch　his　ticket。　Kelly　would　never　forget　the　look　on　the　man‘s　face　when　the　bullet　entered　his　chest。　Then　their　three…mile　run　to　the　LZ；　while　the　NVA‘s　reaction　team　headed　in　the　wrong　direction　because　of　the　misleading　pyro…charge　he‘d　set　up。
What　if　that　man　in　the　shadows　was　his　target？　How　would　he　do　it？　It　was　an　interesting　mental　game。　The　feeling　was　surprisingly　godlike。　He　felt　like　an　eagle；　watching；　cataloging；　but　above　it　all；　a　predator　at　the　top　of　the　food　chain；　not　hungry　now；　riding　the　thermals　over　them。
He　smiled；　ignoring　the　warnings　that　the　bat…experienced　part　of　his　brain　was　beginning　to　generate。
Hmm。　He　hadn‘t　seen　that　car　before。　It　was　a　muscle　car；　a　Plymouth　Roadrunner；　red　as　a　candy　apple；　half　a　block　away。　There　was　something　odd　about　the　way　it　…
‘Kelly　。。。‘　Pam　suddenly　tensed　in　her　seat。
‘What　is　it？‘　His　hand　found　the　。45　and　loosened　it　in　the　holster　just　a　millimeter　or　so；　taking　fort　from　the　worn　wooden　grips。　But　the　fact　that　he‘d　reached　for　it；　and　the　fact　that　he‘d　felt　a　sudden　need　for　that　fort；　were　a　message　that　his　mind　could　not　ignore。　The　cautious　part　of　his　brain　began　to　assert　itself；　his　bat　instincts　began　to　speak　more　loudly。　Even　that　brought　a　surge　of　reflective　pride。　It‘s　so　nice；　he　reflected　in　the　blink　of　an　eye；　that　I　still　have　it　when　I　need　it。
‘I　know　that　car　…　it‘s　…‘
Kelly‘s　voice　was　calm。　‘Okay；　I‘ll　get　us　out　of　here。　You‘re　right；　it‘s　time　to　leave。‘　He　increased　speed；　maneuvering　left　to　get　past　the　Roadrunner。　He　thought　to　tell　Pam　to　get　down；　but　that　really　wasn‘t　necessary。　In　less　than　a　minute　he‘d　be　gone；　and　…　damn！
It　was　one　of　the　gentry　customers；　someone　in　a　black　Karmann…Ghia　convertible　who‘d　just　made　his　transaction；　and；　eager　to　have　this　area　behind　him；　shot　left　from　beyond　the　Roadrunner　only　to　stop　suddenly　for　yet　another　car　doing　much　the　same　thing。　Kelly　stood　on　his　brakes　to　avoid　a　collision；　didn‘t　want　that　to　happen　right　now；　did　he？　But　the　timing　worked　out　badly；　and　he　stopped　almost　right　next　to　the　Roadrunner；　whose　driver　picked　that　moment　to　get　out。　Instead　of　going　forward；　he　opted　to　walk　around　the　back　of　the　car；　and　in　the　course　of　turning；　his　eyes　ended　up　not　three　feet　from　Pam‘s　cringing　face。　Kelly　was　looking　that　way　also；　knowing　that　the　man　was　a　potential　danger；　and　he　saw　the　look　in　the　man‘s　eyes。　He　recognized　Pam。
‘Okay；　I　see　it；‘　his　voice　announced　with　an　eerie　calm；　his　bat　voice。　He　turned　the　wheel　farther　to　the　left　and　stepped　on　the　gas；　bypassing　the　little　sports　car　and　its　invisible　driver。　Kelly　reached　the　corner　a　few　seconds　later；　and　after　the　briefest　pause　to　check　traffic；　executed　a　hard　left　turn　to　evacuate　the　area。
‘He　saw　me！‘　Her　voice　hovered　on　the　edge　of　a　scream。
‘It‘s　okay；　Pam；‘　Kelly　replied；　watching　the　road　and　his　mirror。　‘We　are　leaving　the　area。　You‘re　with　me　and　you‘re　safe。‘
Idiot；　his　instincts　swore　at　the　rest　of　his　consciousness。　You‘d　better　hope　they　don‘t　follow。　That　car　has　triple　your　horsepower　and　…
‘Okay。‘　Bright；　low…slung　headlights　made　the　same　turn　Kelly‘d　executed　twenty　seconds　earlier。　He　saw　them　wiggle　left　and　right。　The　car　was　accelerating　hard　and　fishtailing　on　the　wet　asphalt。　Double　headlights。　It　wasn‘t　the　Karmann…Ghia。
You　are　now　in　danger；　his　instincts　told　him　calmly。　We　don‘t　know　how　much　yet；　but　it‘s　time　to　wake　up。
Roger　that。
Kelly　put　both　hands　on　the　wheel。　The　gun　could　wait。　He　started　evaluating　the　situation；　and　not　much　of　it　was　good。　His　Scout　was　not　made　for　this　sort　of　thing。　It　wasn‘t　a　sports　car；　wasn‘t　a　muscle　car。　He　had　four　puny　cylinders　under　the　hood。　The　Plymouth　Roadrunner　had　eight；　each　one　of　them　bigger　than　what　Kelly　was　now　calling　on。　Even　worse；　the　Roadrunner　was　made　for　low…end　acceleration　and　cornering；　while　the　Scout　had　been　designed　for　plodding　across　unpaved　ground　at　a　hot　fifteen　miles　per　hour。　This　was　not　good。
Kelly‘s　eyes　divided　their　time　equally　between　the　windshield　and　the　rearview　mirror。　There　wasn‘t　much　of　a　gap；　and　the　Roadrunner　was　closing　it　rapidly。
Assets；　his　brain　started　cataloging。　The　car　isn‘t　pletely　useless；　she‘s　a　rugged　little　bitch。　You　have　big；　mean　bumpers；　and　that　high　ground…clearance　means　you　can　ram　effectively。　So　what　about　the　coachwork？　That　Plymouth　might　be　a　status　symbol　for　jerks；　but　this　little　baby　can　be　–　is　–　a　weapon；　and　you　know　how　to　use　weapons。　The　cobwebs　fell　pletely　from　his　mind。
‘Pam；‘　Kelly　said　as　quietly　as　he　could　manage；　‘you　want　to　get　down　on　the　floor；　honey？‘
‘Are　they　…‘　She　started　to　turn；　the　fear　still　manifest　in　her　voice；　but　Kelly‘s　right　hand　pushed　her　down　towards　the　floor。
‘Looks　like　they‘re　following　us；　yes。　Now；　you　let　me　handle　this；　okay？‘　The　last　unengaged　part　of　his　consciousness　was　p