Next to the folded white torso of the body armor, Al laid a walkie-talkie. He said, 'And of course, our communications devices, in case love tries to tear us apart.' Al waved his hand at the guns and equipment that were now spread on the bed like Christmas presents. 'At the risk of sounding like Gunny Sergeant Highway, get to know this shit. Become familiar with it. Could be it'll save your life. More importantly, you might save mine. Oh yeah. One more thing. What I call the Alias
Smith and Jones factor.'
Dave nodded and said, 'Starring Pete Duel and Ben Murphy.'
'All the trains and banks they robbed, they never shot anyone? Bullshit. Nobody gives up a fuckin' payroll without someone gettin' shot. Remember that. Someone gets in your way and you gotta grease the fucker, then you'd better fuckin' do it or it could be your ass that's down. You wanna be very popular with everyone but the railroads and the banks? Then you'd better try stand-up comedy instead of robbery. You wanna take down a score like this one, then you'd better be ready to drop some fuckin' brass. And lots of it. You understand? It's survival of the fittest. Capisce?
Dave grinned back at him. He said, 'All that testosterone, Al. You wanna hear yourself. Like a goddamn pit-bull terrier. Survival of the fittest? That was Charles Darwin's theory. It was an explanation of natural selection and evolution and shit like that. When he said survival of the fittest he didn't mean those who were prepared to be the baddest motherfuckers would survive. Fittest doesn't mean bad, Al. It doesn't mean anything except what it says: most likely to survive. Fact is that old Darwin thought that being predisposed toward co-operation might well be adaptive and would thus be selected for.
'The way I look at it, Al, that's what we're after. A little co-operation. We wave our guns and make some noise, sure. But let's do this cleverly. In a social way. A certain amount of aggression may well be called for, sure. It may confer some benefits. But it also has its costs. Most animals have got built-in codes for conflict that set limits to the violence they do to each other. A lot of it is just bluff. Threat displays n'shit like that. To hear you Al, you sound like you actually want to kill somebody. And what you've got to understand is that if we use our brains we probably won't have to use our guns. Your Alias Smith and Jones example is all wrong, man. The point was not that they were too yellow or too dumb to shoot anyone, but that they planned their robberies with sufficient thought and style, and then kept their cool so as they didn't need to shoot people.'
Al laughed scornfully. 'And you believe that?'
'Al, it's your example, not mine. The question's kind of academic, on account of how it wasn't meant to be true in the first place.'
'Sure it was true,' insisted Al. 'It was history. Said so right at the beginning of the show. "Hannibal Hayes and Kid Curry, the two most wanted outlaws in the history of the west." Sure it was true. The only part that wasn't true was the part how they never shot anyone. They just did that to make sure they picked up the family audience.'
'Al, it was a fictional scenario, based only very loosely on two historical characters.' Dave checked himself from saying more. What did he know? What did he care? What the fuck did it matter? He was debating a point with someone whose idea of an effective argument was a bigger handgun than the next guy.
Al said, 'You know your trouble? You read way too much. Every time you open your mouth some other guy's thoughts come out. Like you were a vent's dummy or something.' He lifted the empty .45 automatic, pointed it at Dave's reflection in the large mirror behind his bed, and pulled the trigger harmlessly. He said, 'I've said it before and I'll say it again, it beats me how you did all that time.'
Dave said, 'Whatever I did, Al, I did for you and for your boss. Try and remember that sometime.'
Al winked unpleasantly.
'Hey, it's always on my mind.'
Dave carried his gear back to his own stateroom, put it in the drawer underneath his bed and then stretched out.
The five years he'd done in Homestead were of little consequence to Al, but Dave knew the experience would be on his own mind for the rest of his natural. He thought about the time and then he thought about the man Tony Nudelli had shot, and the ramifications that had ensued. For Dave and Dave's fucked-up family. There was no way Naked Tony was going to get away with what had happened. He had some payback coming.
