Do They Know I'm Running? by David Corbett

you’ll know what you need to know.”
    “This is bullshit. You’re winding me up.
Buy in?”
    Happy reminded himself this was all for his father. “How else you think this happens?”
    “How much?”
    “Thirty grand.”
    “You’re out of your fucking mind.”
    “That’s five jobs like the couple in Pinole today. For one and a half mil a year on the back end. Guaranteed.”
    “Nothing’s guaranteed.”
    “You’re not paying attention to what I’m telling you.”
    “You think I’m handing thirty large to you with nothing but—”
    “You’re not handing it to me.”
    “Who then?”
    “You’re wiring it to El Salvador. Once it gets there, my father and this other guy I mentioned? They get brought up across the border. Once that’s done, you’re in on the franchise.”
    “Okay, that’s twice now you’ve mentioned this other guy. Who is he?”
    Happy paused for the proper effect. “He’s from the Middle East.”
    Vasco blanched. “You saying what I think you’re saying?”
    “Once he’s here, he vanishes, you have no more connection to him.”
    “And when he does whatever he’s gonna do, and they connect all the dots and find out how he got across?”
    “There’s no way to tie you to it.”
    “You said I’m wiring money.”
    “From somewhere here in the Bay Area to San Salvador, happens a thousand times every day. You smurf it down in smaller amounts, use a fake name, or have everybody on the crew send a piece, fake names again, and we bribe the guy at the
envío de dinero
window. It gets picked up by someone on the other end, again a fake name, he vanishes on that end. Who knows where he goes, who he meets or what he does with the money? You got ghosts on both ends and they can’t track one guy sneaking across the border regardless. Can’t be done, no matter what they say. Meanwhile, once he’s across and forgotten, you get rich.”
    Vasco seemed puzzled by it all and angry he had to work so hard figuring out the downsides. “You say this guy, this Arab, he’s coming across with your old man? He does, they get caught, that ties the Arab to you. You’re tied to me. I’m fucked.”
    “They’ll split up before they cross. Christ, use your head.” Happy decided not to mention Roque’s involvement and made a mental note to keep it a secret from here on out. “You think everybody’s stupid but you?”
    Vasco wasn’t backing off. “You got somebody on the border, somebody you’re bribing to get everybody across.”
    Happy shook his head. “Vasco, listen to me, it’s not your problem.”
    “Like hell it’s not my problem. Some bent fed gets caught helping a terrorist across, you think they’re not gonna fuck his ass bloody till he coughs up every goddamn name he knows?”
    “He won’t know yours.”
    “Prove it.”
    “The guy who takes the money in San Salvador is like twenty links removed from anybody taking a cut at the border, and that’s all cash, hand to hand.”
    Vasco’s gaze drifted toward the window again, met his reflection in the glass. “How long you been sitting on this?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “How long you known about it?”
    “You think I been shopping it around?”
    “How
long
?”
    “The coke thing’s been in the works for a while. Since I’ve been back I get texted every few days, progress reports, questions. Then my old man got popped and I said, Let’s do it. Started putting a plan together, to bring him back and get this other thing rolling, the franchise. They added the curve, the Arab. Said the one depended on the other. I’ve got no say.”
    “And you chose me.” Vasco didn’t sound pleased or privileged. “Why?”
    “You want me to go someplace else?”
    “Answer the fucking question.”
    Happy told himself: Let him rant. It would make the prospect of getting the last laugh that much sweeter. “Just seemed wise, start with somebody I know.”
    “Not like we’ve ever been exactly tight, though. Am I right?”
    “No, which