get laid. They want drugs. Even if they don't know it yet, they do. It's around, of course, you can get drugs no problem, but it's not organized. It could be better. A lot better.'
'I see,' the man said. 'And you're figuring… why should it just be the IBMs and AT&Ts of the world who are getting their hooks into these young tigers? If corporate America is invading the Break, why shouldn't Lee John Hudek get in there too, tap into that customer base?'
'Exactly. You had a tight crew there, worked hard, you could shift a truly awesome amount of drugs. I want be that guy.'
There, it was done.
The Plan was out in the open. Hudek had never actually said it out loud before. Doing so had made him feel even more confident.
'It's an idea,' the man said. 'But it's not original, and there are three problems with it. I'm going to explain them to you, okay?'
Hudek nodded, his heart falling immediately.
'First and biggest is the cops. There are plenty of dealers working the Break already, of course. They're small-time or kicking back to the local law. Spring Break is huge business for these places, Lee. Towns can make a quarter billion dollars a season, can stand or fall on how many of these beer-swilling fuckheads they can pull into their nightclubs and bars, burning up their licence to go wild before they go get their dull jobs and disappear into the long grass. The towns know there's drugs around. It's part of the deal. It's contained, it's understood. But if the place gets awash and it splashes all over the front pages, it's all over for that town. The law's job is to ensure that doesn't happen, that a balance is struck — and the cops skim a little for their boat upgrades and retirement funds too, of course. You know a lot of Florida cops, Lee? You got those connections? You got experience in dealing with Panhandle law at ranking officer level?'
Hudek shook his head.
'I assumed not. Second issue is supply. Even if you get the cops sweet and put your people in there — and you'll need quite a few, and you'll need good communication, transport and storage facilities, which the cops might even be able to help you with — then you'll have the problem of product. How are you going to finance this? I don't know how much of your allowance you got in that bag there, but it isn't going to cover it.'
Hudek had known this was the tricky part. 'I thought,' he said, 'I thought maybe it could be a pay afterwards kind of deal.'
'Someone lends you the drugs, sees if you can shift them on, if not you give them back with your receipt and their ten per cent? And they turn a blind eye to all the stuff that's missing, the pills and coke your dealers have sucked into their own heads or bartered for fucks on the beach? That really what you thought?'
Hudek shrugged, his face hot. It was, of course.
The man in the chair didn't laugh, but someone in the shadows did.
'Finally,' the man said, 'where were you actually going to find these altruistic benefactors? You go nosing around trying to make contacts down South, Miami gangbangers will have you in pieces before you've opened your mouth. Some of those Cuban homeboys make the Crips look like Martha fucking Stewart.'
'So it was a dumb idea,' Hudek said, deflated. He looked down at his hands.
'No, Lee. It's a good idea. It semi-happens already. But it hasn't been done properly, you're right. You'd need a reliable and large-scale supply of drugs, and a way of laundering the money taken. You'd need to take advantage of pre-existing law enforcement relationships and have the wherewithal to refresh those ahead of time. You would need someone to help you avoid stupid mistakes and/or winding up face down in a swamp. You would require serious backers, in other words.'
Hudek looked up. The man was staring at him, hard.
'Backers who trusted you, who knew that you could be relied upon. Who knew you always did what you were told.'
Hudek nodded. He didn't quite trust himself to speak.
'You would need
'I see,' the man said. 'And you're figuring… why should it just be the IBMs and AT&Ts of the world who are getting their hooks into these young tigers? If corporate America is invading the Break, why shouldn't Lee John Hudek get in there too, tap into that customer base?'
'Exactly. You had a tight crew there, worked hard, you could shift a truly awesome amount of drugs. I want be that guy.'
There, it was done.
The Plan was out in the open. Hudek had never actually said it out loud before. Doing so had made him feel even more confident.
'It's an idea,' the man said. 'But it's not original, and there are three problems with it. I'm going to explain them to you, okay?'
Hudek nodded, his heart falling immediately.
'First and biggest is the cops. There are plenty of dealers working the Break already, of course. They're small-time or kicking back to the local law. Spring Break is huge business for these places, Lee. Towns can make a quarter billion dollars a season, can stand or fall on how many of these beer-swilling fuckheads they can pull into their nightclubs and bars, burning up their licence to go wild before they go get their dull jobs and disappear into the long grass. The towns know there's drugs around. It's part of the deal. It's contained, it's understood. But if the place gets awash and it splashes all over the front pages, it's all over for that town. The law's job is to ensure that doesn't happen, that a balance is struck — and the cops skim a little for their boat upgrades and retirement funds too, of course. You know a lot of Florida cops, Lee? You got those connections? You got experience in dealing with Panhandle law at ranking officer level?'
Hudek shook his head.
'I assumed not. Second issue is supply. Even if you get the cops sweet and put your people in there — and you'll need quite a few, and you'll need good communication, transport and storage facilities, which the cops might even be able to help you with — then you'll have the problem of product. How are you going to finance this? I don't know how much of your allowance you got in that bag there, but it isn't going to cover it.'
Hudek had known this was the tricky part. 'I thought,' he said, 'I thought maybe it could be a pay afterwards kind of deal.'
'Someone lends you the drugs, sees if you can shift them on, if not you give them back with your receipt and their ten per cent? And they turn a blind eye to all the stuff that's missing, the pills and coke your dealers have sucked into their own heads or bartered for fucks on the beach? That really what you thought?'
Hudek shrugged, his face hot. It was, of course.
The man in the chair didn't laugh, but someone in the shadows did.
'Finally,' the man said, 'where were you actually going to find these altruistic benefactors? You go nosing around trying to make contacts down South, Miami gangbangers will have you in pieces before you've opened your mouth. Some of those Cuban homeboys make the Crips look like Martha fucking Stewart.'
'So it was a dumb idea,' Hudek said, deflated. He looked down at his hands.
'No, Lee. It's a good idea. It semi-happens already. But it hasn't been done properly, you're right. You'd need a reliable and large-scale supply of drugs, and a way of laundering the money taken. You'd need to take advantage of pre-existing law enforcement relationships and have the wherewithal to refresh those ahead of time. You would need someone to help you avoid stupid mistakes and/or winding up face down in a swamp. You would require serious backers, in other words.'
Hudek looked up. The man was staring at him, hard.
'Backers who trusted you, who knew that you could be relied upon. Who knew you always did what you were told.'
Hudek nodded. He didn't quite trust himself to speak.
'You would need
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