He could have been recruited ages ago. The cops might have pulled Simon in on a
He could have been recruited ages ago. The cops might have pulled Simon in on a drug charge, then realized that he was part of the same scene as local activists, old enough for the job, and easily jammed up because he paid his rent by selling weed to his friends. Given a choice between jail and helping them stage some security theatre, I knew which one Simon would choose. Whoever was in that black SUV who had picked him up in the afternoon might been coaching him for this meeting.
Danny stared at Simon for a moment, then gave him a slight nod, as if they had just made a private agreement. “Tweak, you got any of that weed left?”
I pretended to drink some beer. Somebody started talking about a new arts space some friends were opening. Others got into an argument about some movie I’d never heard of. Danny said he was going out for a smoke and left through the front door. A moment later, Simon followed, holding a pack of cigarettes like a prop.
“Is there anything to eat in the kitchen?” I asked the room. Nobody paid attention when I got up and slipped out the back door. I circled around the side of the house, where there was a crust on top of the snow, making my feet crunch. The snow under the tangle of bushes growing along the foundation was softer, so I bent down and crept forward under the bushes as silently as possible, spilling snow down my neck from the branches. I got to the front porch and heard a mumble of voices.
I had to get closer, so crawled between two clumps of spiky evergreen shrubs, then straightened up beside the porch cautiously until my head was even with the flooring. It was like turning up the volume.
“You trust these guys?” Something moved a few inches from my face and I realized it was the toe of Danny’s boot, kicking snow off the porch.
“They’re solid.”
Something stung my arm. I thought at first it was just a clump of ice melting, but then a glowing ember drifted past my face and I realized some cigarette ash had landed on my sleeve. Not my sleeve, Jason’s expensive spy-shirt sleeve. I brushed it off quickly, hoping it hadn’t left a hole.
“You hear that?”
I froze. The shoe beside my head moved and the wooden banister creaked as someone leaned over it.
“What?”
Seconds ticked by. “Must have been a squirrel.”
“Tell me what you need. I’ll set it up,” Simon wheedled. Danny grunted. Seriously, we need to get something real going.”
“What do you mean, we? You said you weren’t even going to be there.”
“Hey, you don’t need me. Boom.” Simon giggled. “No pun intended.” Danny didn’t laugh. “I’m just happy if I can make connections. I’ll talk to them, okay?”
Danny grunted. “Yeah, whatever. It’s freezing out here. I’m going in.”
I heard Simon’s footsteps creaking as he paced alone on the porch, muttering. When the creaking came closer I realized he was whispering to someone on his phone. “He’s definitely ready.” The words faded as he walked away, but the tone of his muttering sounded like an argument. “No way! I’m not going to risk my re