“Look, man, you’re fucking nuts. That’s all there is to it.” I told it how it was, and stubbed out my cigarette angrily. “This shit takes time, man. Do you think that there ain’t all kinds of ICE just waiting to fry my brain?”

Benny just gave me a long, deadpan look. He meant business.

“You’re talking about raiding one of the most secure bases in the fucking grid, man.”

“Look, babe, I don’t need fuckin’ excuses,” he said, pausing to lean down and snort a line of coke. He tossed back his head and coughed, then looked back at me. “I need fuckin’ results. We need this shit, or we’re toast. If Jarvis don’t kill us, someone big will. You got records, right? And you got contacts. We got the money. Just get the goods you need. Tell me where to go, and when. I get the shit. Then we’re squeaky fuckin’ clean.”

“Right. Now you’re going to tell me that I have three weeks to get all this shit ready?”

He shook his head. I knew he would.

“Nah, Louise. We’ve gotta make our move. Tonight.”

“You’re fucking nuts, man.”