I call him after three that afternoon, again using Mallory’s phone, which I forgot to give back to her.

“I got something,” Big Dipper says. “But you’re not going to like it.”

21

Nicholas

When I have an option…

I already know that.

Of course, it’s not going to be something fun or glamorous or safe. That’s not the kind of jobs that Big Dipper is known for.

Yet, the fact that he is introducing it with that kind of preface makes my hands ball up into fists.

My heart jumps into my throat and I wait for him to explain

“I need a clean cut guy to drive some meth across the border from Mexico. A gringo with a white wife that the border agents won’t stop because they have nothing to hide.”

Fuck.

“You there?” Big Dipper asks.

“Yeah,” I say after a moment.

“It’s not the best option for you as you already know but that’s all I got. Take it or leave it.”

“Where would this be? Who am I going with?” I ask.

About a hundred more questions pop into my head but I keep it to two.

“I can’t give any details until you commit to it. Why don’t you think about it for a bit and let me know?”

I want to. I want to buy some time and try to figure something else out but I need papers. I need identification. My old source is compromised so Big Dipper is it.

“How much?” I ask.

There’s a pause on the other end.

“How much meth or how much money?”

“Both.”

“One hundred pounds of meth. I can pay you one fifty for it.”

I do quick math in my head.

“The street value of that is about one point three million. Getting it across the border for one fifty is a bargain.”

“To some, it’s enough to start a new life.”

“I need at least two fifty,” I negotiate. “And a whole new identity. Clean. Established. No dead people.”

One way to get new social security numbers is to go through the list of the dead and just use their names hoping that the credit card companies won’t notice.

It works in the short-term but that’s not the kind I need.

I need a spanking new social security number that has been around at least thirty years and has no records or issues with it.

Then I need a whole new identity to go with it.

I need the Louis Vuitton or the Bentley of the identity business. And just like high end bags and cars, this one comes at a steep price.

“The best I can do is one seventy five and the ID. Take it or leave it.”

I tap my foot on the floor.