Minutes to Burn (2001) by Gregg Hurwitz Page B

self-assured cadence of his words--another American entrepreneur moved down to Guayaquil to play buccaneer and make a fortune off Ecuador's problems. Diego thought about switching to English but decided to humor him.
    "Thomas, Diego Rodriguez. Acting Director, Darwin Station."
    "Si, si. ?Hombre de ecology, no?"
    "I'm gonna make this quick because we could get cut off any minute. My Proteccion Department has mostly deserted, we have feral animals overrunning two of the islands, and I'm shit out of .22s."
    Thomas's chuckle made Diego grimace, but at least he switched to English. "That's right, you got wild dogs and goats and shit eating up all the butterflies."
    "Something like that."
    "I remember 'cause we used to ship you guys out sodium monofloracetate--enough to poison the cast of Cats, if memory serves. But why are you handling eradication now? Isn't that supposed to be the Park's job?"
    A noise of disgust escaped Diego's throat. "El Parque. The Park officials split after the first tremor. Me and my staff have been handling everything." He looked around his empty office. "Small staff."
    "Well, I can get you anticoagulants. Brodifacoum, klerat, more ten-eighty."
    "The goats have become finicky, like cats. We've got to get ahold of more bullets."
    "Even if I could get my hands on .22s, what makes you think you could afford them?"
    "Maybe I have deeper pockets than you realize."
    "Well, bullets are one commodity that even I can't locate. You know that."
    Without domestic manufacture of bullets, Ecuador was dependent on imports from the United States and Israel. Ever since the Initial Event and the resultant social unrest, the U.S. had severely limited the export of bullets to Ecuador. The few attempts to make bullets in any quantity within the country had been abandoned by the organized crime leaders in Guayaquil due to earthquake disruptions.
    Diego sat up, tugging at his ponytail. "Even on Santa Cruz, the goats are destroying the topsoil, eating what's left of the vegetation, digging up tortoise nests. And they're reproducing like rabbits. If you don't help me, these islands are gonna be what they started as--barren mounds of magma. Espanola's already been irreversibly damaged, chewed down to the rock. I know you have connections in the States. There must be bullets around Guayaquil. If you can get me even two, three cartons, it could make a big--" Realizing that he was pleading, Diego paused, trying to regain his composure. So this is what it's come down to, he thought. An island for a carton of bullets.
    "Diego, buddy. There's nothing I can do. The ammo I do come across brings high prices you scientists can't pay. With all the rioting, the military, the armed guards...you should see it here."
    "I need more bullets."
    "Everyone needs, my friend. The home owners need for their armed guards, the military needs for the soldiers, the robbers need for the robberies. I don't have any bullets, but if I did, I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd have a big auction. Right in the middle of Parque Centenario."
    "Your priorities are to be commended."
    "Please. There are no priorities in times like this."
    "There are always priorities. Especially in times like this."
    "Even if I could get bullets, which I can't, and even if you could afford them, which you can't, how the hell would I get them to you? We haven't had boats out of here or Manta in three weeks, and--you for-get--TAME stopped running all flights last Sunday. The only thing we see of Galapagos anymore are its citizens washing up on the coast in pirated fishing boats, broke, stinking, and looking for somewhere to sleep."
    There was a long silence. Diego relit his joint.
    "I am sorry, my friend," Thomas said. "But such is life."
    Either the line cut out or Thomas hung up. Diego toked, held the burn.
    A fourteen-year-old boy ran up to the building and addressed Diego through the open window. He wore a T-shirt tied around his head, draped down over his neck foreign-legion style.
    Diego