Gabriela glares at me. “No, you don’t get it. You’re not trying to save the city, you’re trying to save your own skin. And I’m not so much of an asshole that I can’t admit that I’m doing the same thing. I need this, Eric. Everything I built has gone to shit, and I need a goddamn win. Now you can either nut up and come kill this bitch with me, or you can stay out here like a pussy and let a grown-up do her fucking job.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything. After a moment, she climbs the dumpster to get over the gate. Well, shit. I hop the fence behind her.

Gabriela hands me the mirror. It points us toward one of the smaller factory buildings. I’m not sure what they make here, if they make anything. There’s no signage beyond the usual, saying to keep out. There are holders for cameras, but the cameras are gone. I start to notice other things, missing pipework, rust on the building’s metal siding.

Businesses in Vernon come and go. It costs money to demolish an unused building. Easier to leave it alone, move somewhere else, come back when things are better. Rinse and repeat in four years when the economy goes tits up again.

And that’s not even talking about the buildings so filled with chemicals that they’ve been condemned, but nobody has the money to clean up. There are places around here leaching toxins into the groundwater, poisoning nearby communities. I remember hearing about one factory closing because of it, but there are hundreds here.

There are four entrances to this building that I can see, a loading dock with a door next to it, a door leading to what looks like an office, and a door in the side that looks like it might be an emergency exit. With a final look in the mirror to make sure our target’s still there, I slide it into my pocket and draw the Browning.

As usual it feels like insects under my hand, but there’s something different now. Like it’s paying more attention. Like it knows what I read about it, and it’d really rather I not know. So help me, if it starts whispering some Son of Sam bullshit, I’m melting it down for paperweights.

Gabriela kneels at the door and runs her hand a few inches above it, not touching. She makes a complicated hand gesture, like she’s pinching two pieces of air on either side and pulling them together to tie a knot in the center.