Shoot the Moon

Chapter Sixteen - Midnight At The Oasis

"Very happy. How's Rita?"

He grinned that familiar killer dog's grin and took a sip of the drink he held in his hand. "Ha! Don't look so worried," he said, happily, "Rita's just fine. You think I'd hurt Rita just because she helped you to rob me blind? No, if I had to go after all the people ever ripped me off, I'd never get any work done. I just write it off to bitter experience, dude. No, our Rita's okay. Have a Harvey Wallbanger?"

"No thanks."

"Awful good."

"No thanks. Where is she?"

"Rita? Witness program, I believe. Her old man arranged it. She didn't have much to give them, unfortunately. Except me. And there ain't much the Narcs don't know about me, dude. So I imagine Rita is somewhere out in the Great American Desert with a swell job at a Wal-Mart. She's sitting in a puddle of sweat waiting for my friends to show up and separate her head from her shoulders. Far cry from the glamorous Miami night life she enjoyed before she betrayed me. That's all the revenge I need. Hey, I know, "It was just business". Not one to hold a grudge. Not even against you." The smile mask dropped and he said quietly, "I should, you know. You cost me money, partner. And I got to thinking later about all the ways you could have entrapped that poor girl into helping you in your dirty scheme."

"Believe me, she needed no encouragement."

Teddy squinted at me like a reptile baking on a desert rock. "Oh, I believe you. Rita's a viper, all right. Thing is... I trusted you, dude, like a son. And what happens? You screw me left right and center and disappear with my profits. My best friend. And to think the United States Navy let you get away with it."

"They encouraged me. Just following orders, Teddy."

"I'll bet ONI didn't tell you to pocket my cash."

"They were sick of your CIA friends letting you run wild. You were making them look foolish. They asked me to mess you up, Teddy. They weren't particular about how I did it." My commanding officer hadn't even asked to see the contents of the large black duffel bag I took onto the plane out of Miami.

Teddy shook his head sadly, heart broken by the perfidious world. He rubbed his eyes beneath his Ray-bans.

"Oh well, money can always be replaced. It's the friendships along the way that are important. Don't you agree?" He rubbed his temples. "Whenever you show up I find I have a headache. Okay. What are you going to do to me this time?"

"A crowd of Colombians are after my head. Since 'Mr. Gray' turns out to be you, my old pal Teddy Dexter, I'm suddenly inspired to see if you could help me out."

"Fascinating. What makes you think I could do anything for you, dude? Even supposing I cared, which I don't."

"This dump is connected to the Cartels. And now, here you are, the original Colombian connection so to speak."

Teddy smiled genuinely for the first time. He was flattered. He had seen early on that cocaine was the coming thing and the connections he made with Colombian exchange students at college had been the foundation of his career. Unfortunately, he had soon been busted by the Feds, lost his house in the Florida Keys and most of his money. But that was "another man with another name" as Teddy liked to say. He had been turned into a double agent, never looked back and treachery became his way of life.

However, his pioneering effort to bring cocaine to the average man would put him in the Dope Dealer's Hall of Fame.

"But, babe," he said, "Suppose I do this favor for you. What's in it for me?"

"You might like to keep it quiet that you work both sides of the street."

"My partners in trade know all about me. As a matter of fact they find my connections to law enforcement one of my greatest assets. Besides, nothing illegal going on here, brother. Strictly import-export. It say so on the door."

Teddy drained his glass and set it on the floor. In a flat tone he said, "And now, since that's all history, let's talk about my hopes and dreams. Far as your troubles go, I could help you out. In return for certain equitable considerations." His smile had faded to something with no more significance than a line drawn on a sheet of paper. Teddy was a psychopath. It was always good to keep that fact in the foreground.

"You're even starting to sound like a businessman, Teddy. What do you want?"

"Our friend Mickey Dolan[DA1][DA2]."

"I'm surprised you didn't kill him long ago."

"That's right. He brought you to me, didn't he? I would never kill Mickey. He's too many laughs. Just deliver the clapped-out son of a bitch."

"You don't want your money back?"

"That's what you get, brother, your incentive, as it were. Not just that, of course, I don't expect you to work for nothing. I just want Mickey. Find him for me. Help out for a change."

"What if I can't?"

"Better find him, dude. Let's say... fifty thousand? How's that? A tip, so to speak. Make it more of a transaction you can write up for your taxes."

"You must be in big trouble."

"A small bummer, but irritating. Fifty?

"No thanks."

"Say what?"

"If you end up killing Mickey, I'd rather not be a part of it. You know?"

"You're an idealist now. I see."

"You remember ideals, don't you, Teddy?"

He thought about it. "Not really. But I always gave honest weight. Each gram was a gram, weighed on an accurate scale. That count?"

"Well, I guess it's something."

"Point with pride to that. I had dreams too, dude. I wanted to make enough money selling coke to buy an island. Nothing big. A few natives maybe, just to fetch and carry, see to my humble needs. I'd treat 'em right too. None of this Qaddafi shit. No delusions of grandeur. Just a pleasant little place to while away the hours. Wanted that ever since I was a little feller."

"Chokes me up to think of little baby Teddy dreaming those dreams."

"Touching, right? Well, it's not what you could call 'ideals', but as you say, it's something. However, we live in the real world, dude. Find that idiot, Mickey. Bring him in, I'll do what I can to keep you in one piece." The phone rang. "Now, if you don't mind I have to take this call. Oh, Murphy. Don't think you've got anything to hold over my head. I always give my partners honest weight. On both sides of the street."

I walked out of Teddy's little desert island and back into the real world.