“So answer my question,” Nate said.
Geronimo said, “You’ve got your reasons. I’ve got mine. Let’s leave it at that for now.”
“As long as we find him,” Nate said.
“We’re on the same page here,” Geronimo said. “You would be invited to the cookout.”
Nate had no idea what that meant other than it sounded like he’d be included in whatever Geronimo was up to.
—
The buildings got talleras they got closer to the capitol. Nate assumed by their uninspired architecture they were government buildings.
Through an opening onto the street, a small knot of protesters moved under a streetlight. Nate and Geronimo kept themselves in shadow and watched the group pass. Nate saw they were all in black clothing and they wore motorcycle helmets with the shields down. Two of the group held their glowing phones out in front of them.
Nate whispered to Geronimo, “Why do they dress like that?”
“There are closed-circuit cameras everywhere, not to mention that everyone on the street has a phone camera and all the cops have body cams. If they mask up and dress alike, it’s impossible for the cops to identify individuals who do bad shit and get caught on video.”
“Are they packing?”
“Rarely, but sometimes. They’d rather kick ass with boots and clubs and they like to use their skateboards as weapons. It keeps them out of jail and it doesn’t give the media reasons not to love them.”
“You know a lot about antifa,” Nate said.
“I’ve only scratched the surface, nature boy.”
“What’s the street action all about?” Nate asked.
Gernomio shrugged. “What do you got?”
“Why don’t the cops just round them up?”
“The cops have learned it’s useless, even though they coulddo it in one night. There’s not that many of them, maybe fifty or so. But we’ve got a progressive DA that cuts them all loose without charges. These yahoos are back on the street hours after they’re arrested. They get arrested, get released, and do it all over again. Rinse and repeat. It makes it seem like there are more of them, but there aren’t.”
“There’s no law enforcement?”
“Hey—I’ve been pulled over thirteen times for Driving While Black. And you just have to look at me to know some of these cops are just begging for a reason to light me up.”
“But they let you go?” Nate asked.
“They do now. All they have to see is this,” he said, pointing to the BLM stencil on his jacket. “Get-out-of-jail-free patch, is what it is. It’s the word from on high.”
“I don’t understand,” Nate said.
“And I don’t have time to explain right now, my man.”
—
They approached the locationGeronimo had scouted through a long narrow opening between two buildings. Nate didn’t like the situation they were in at all. It would be too easy to trap them in the pathway by blocking both ends. The only way out would be to scale the brick walls.
He felt a wave of relief wash over him when they emerged into the dark alley. He looked over his shoulder through a space between the buildings and could see the top of the Palomino Lounge in the distance. That’s where Geronimo had seen and photographed Axel Soledad’s SUV.
“This is it,” Geronimo said. “I scoped it out after Soledad left, to find out what they were doing here.”
Geronimo drew out his cell phone and punched up the flashlight app.
“Check this out,” he said.