"The circle only has one side"
-- Travis, Side

My accounting said there was one Billyboy left. If Becks was still in the garage, then Vance would have left someone to stand guard. I positioned Ray directly in front of the door. He was less likely to be recognized. I pressed up to the side of the door. I double-checked the safety, and then used it to pound on the metal door to the office.

"Wha?" Ray started to ask, but I raised my hand and cut him off.

I listened at the door. I heard nothing inside. I pounded on the door harder the second time. If I heard nothing that time, I'd break the window and we'd go in that way. Alarms be dammed, I didn't care who saw me. I hear someone approaching. I pulled away from the door, took the safety off, and signaled to Ray to be ready. The door opened inward.

"Can I..." the remaining Billyboy asked.

I grabbed him by the collar and put the gun up to his face; the threat doesn't work unless the other guy knows what it is. I pushed him into the building and up against the wall. Ray followed behind us and closed the door. I would have preferred if he had left it open. It would make escape easier. We'd just have to deal with that when the time came.

"Help me?" I said. "I'm sure you can. Is she here?"

There could really be only one she I could be talking about. He nodded.

"Where is she?" Ray demanded. He was up in the Boy's face, ready to take him from me.

"Hush!" I said to Ray.

There were far more important questions to ask before getting to that. The building wasn't that large, and I was pretty sure Vance didn't have an underground lair. Becks wouldn't be hard to find.

"Is there anyone else here?" I asked. That was the question of the moment. I needed to know what was between the goal and me.

"No," the Boy answered.

I put the gun under his chin and let it dig into the soft flesh.

"Are you lying?" I said.

He shook his head, clearly nervous. It is a hard thing to be on the receiving end.

"Just you and her in here, correct?" I asked.

He nodded. Good, he had answered the questions both ways it could be asked.

"Tie him -- hands and feet," I told Ray. I wasn't going to make their mistakes.

Ray grabbed an extension cord from a hook on the wall. I kept the gun on him until Ray had finished tying him, not letting my guard down until I knew he was completely secured. There was a bandana on the desk. I twisted it round, and gagged the Boy with it. We pulled him off to the side out of the way.

"Becks will be upstairs." I said.

I motioned Ray to follow. I still kept the gun out and ready, and moved with caution. Ray did his best behind me. The man we subdued had probably been telling the truth, but I wasn't going to take chances -- not now. Vance would be back soon.

I'd never seen the upstairs of the garage. I could tell a man lived there. There was no effort at décor. His possessions were placed at random. It all had a rockabilly-cum-grease monkey feel to it. The only art on the walls were movie posters and pin-ups. There were no frames. They were just tacked to the wall. There was a TV, a stereo, a handful of books -- not a big reader our Vance. There were two couches, and large coffee table with a pile of Johnny Cash CD's on it. It was a place for hanging out and entertaining. There was a small kitchen. It didn't look like it got a lot of use. One door opened onto a bathroom.

The remaining door was closed. I tested the knob. I did it gently and deliberately. If the one downstairs had lied, I didn't want to reveal myself until I was in the room. The door was locked. It had a simple knob lock. If it had been a deadbolt, it would have been much harder.

"Take this," I said as I handed the gun to Ray, "and watch the stairs."

I would have preferred if Ray had gone into the stairwell itself, but he only moved nearer to it. That way he could watch both the stairs and myself at the same time. I edged back from the door a couple of feet. I stood perpendicular to the door, with my shoulder pointed to the inside of the knob. I took a deep breath and held it. Just like at the motel, I shifted my weight onto my left foot. As I gave the door a side-kick, I let out my breath and gave a kiai -- a loud yell from the diaphragm.

There are three reasons for the yell. First, because it gets the air out of my lungs, so I would be a denser target. It hurts less that way, if you're hit in the chest after you strike -- when I would be most vulnerable. Secondly, it might psych out my opponent. I've seen fights won and lost because of that. Finally is helps to focus mind and body, and pumped me up for the blow. That was why I did it. It also sounds cool if you do it right.

If there had been a wall behind me I would have braced against it. My foot stung from the impact. I had connected the flat portion of my foot to the area just to the right of the lock. Doors are built to be strong. It can take two or three blows to get them open. I kicked it again. I wished I had thought to take the shoes of either of the Boys I had taken down. The door swung inward.

As I guessed, it was the door to Vance's bedroom. Becks was tied to the bed. Her hands and feet were tied with leather straps that attached to the bed. They looked to be permanent fixtures. That was not much of a surprise, based on everything I had heard from both Betty and Becks. Ray pushed passed me and went to her.

"Oh, baby," he said as he tried to undo the ball-gag Vance used to keep her quiet. Becks reference to "rough trade" echoed in my head.

I took the knife from my pocket and cut the straps. She could work on untying them from her hands and feet later -- at her leisure. At least she had clothes on, I wanted her and Ray out of here as quickly as possible, and stopping for anything would take time I didn't want to spend. She had the beginnings of a black eye, and bruises on her cheek. Becks wouldn't go down without some kind of struggle. As soon as her hands were free, she grabbed hold of Ray and hugged him.

"Oh god," she said, "you came for me. I didn't think there'd be anyone."

Ray held her and made soothing noises. I took a quick look at the room. There wasn't anything immediately useful in sight, like a gun or shoes. There was a wad of cash on his dresser, next to a rosary and a crucifix. Everyone has surprises if you look hard enough. I took the cash. It seemed fair. Vance had taken me away from mine.

"You cocksucker!" Becks said.

I turned, startled, to look at her. At first I thought she was talking about me taking the money, but couldn't see why she cared at the moment.

"This is your fault," she said. "He told me he was going to kill me! Because of you, what you did..."

"Not now Becks." I didn't raise my voice, but put all my force of will behind it. They both stopped to look at me.

"You want to yell at me," I said, "fine. You say this is my fault? Well you're right. You're one hundred percent right, but you want to know what else? It doesn't matter, not one little bit. You're in this mess now, and it doesn't matter how you got here, but I will get you out of it. I can do that, but it's not going to happen unless you two leave right now."

Becks stared at me. Her eyes were still full of hate, but she nodded.

"Get her out of here," I said to Ray, "and back to Portland. Keep the gun. You might have to use it. But, Ray?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"Only if you've got no choice," I told him. "Don't threaten with it. If you have to shoot, then be the one to shoot first. Drive back as quickly as you can, but don't draw attention to yourselves."

I was addressing both of them. I wasn't sure how much of it Ray was getting. Sooner or later the buzz would wear off.

"Becks," I said, "you may have to spell Ray, somewhere along the way. He's going to crash soon."

"Right," she said. There was no emotion in her voice.

"If you have to stop," I went on, "do it well away from the highway. Don't speed. Don't do anything to get pulled over. When you get out of LA, wipe the gun and dump it somewhere it won't be found for a while. You don't want to be caught with it.

"Now when you get back to Portland, you two need to lay low for a couple of weeks. Don't go out at night. Keep a low profile. Becks, you need to stay with Wilson," I looked at the way she was holding on to Ray and added "or someone else, but keep away from your apartment and anywhere else Vance would know to look for you. Hide out for a week or two, then you can have your life back. OK?"

They both nodded.

"What're you going to do?" Ray asked.

"Don't worry about that." Damn it to hell, didn't they understand the urgency? That Vance and the boys could be back at any minute? "I'm going to raise the stakes, so Vance won't want to follow you. I'm going to make it cost too much to go after you. Now go."

"Come on, Ray." Becks said. She took his hand and headed for the door.