His momentum was too much. He knocked me down and we hit the pavement together. I punched at his jaw with a short right, but he didn't even seem to notice. We rolled over once while I tried to keep the jabbing knife from my body. I wanted Hugo, my stiletto, but I could not free my hand and arm even for a moment to allow the knife to slip into my palm.
For a brief moment the big man was on top of me. He swore in Portuguese and stabbed down viciously at my chest. The knife wasn't a long one, the blade being quite wide, but the edge was honed to razor sharpness. It glowed dully in the night as I grabbed his knife arm at the last moment before the blade reached my chest. Our arms trembled there for a moment while he struggled to sink the blade home. I got my right hand free and grabbed blindly for his face, I felt his eyes and dug my index and middle fingers into them. I raked the left eyeball with my middle finger and gouged into the right one with my index finger. The eyeball popped, and my finger came away wet.
"Ahhhh!" the assailant yelled, grabbing at his eyes with his free hand and forgetting the knife in the other. He yelled again and partially fell off me.
Hugo finally slipped into my right hand during this brief rest. I had just gotten a good grasp on it when the big man yelled insanely and raised the knife again to smash out blindly with it. I swung the stiletto in under his upraised arm, and the blade entered his side just below his ribcage and sank to the hilt.
Then I saw the assailant's remaining eye staring out over my head into the blackness, and in that moment I distinctly saw the gray wetness on his right cheek under the destroyed eye. I pulled the stiletto from his side, and he fell heavily across me, his own knife clattering to the pavement.
I shoved the body off me and got to my feet. Looking about me quickly, I saw that no pedestrians were around to see what had occurred. I went through the man's pockets and found some identification in a billfold. One of the cards showed him to be an employee of the Apex Imports Company.
It appeared I had made more of an impression on the man named Ubeda than I had thought. Or maybe he had telephoned Stavros in Athens, and Stavros had denied ever hearing of me. Probably Ubeda had figured I was a cop of some kind who was nosing into the business of Apex Imports. Or a CIA man who was getting too curious. Whoever Ubeda thought I was, he obviously had had me tailed and knew where I was staying. It would be in my best interest to leave for Paracatu at the earliest opportunity.
I left the dead Brazilian and walked quickly back to my hotel. There was no further incident that night, and the morning came uneventfully.
Erika Nystrom, Zach, and I met at nine A.M. at a small cafe on the Avenida Presidenta Vargas with a view of the hills behind downtown Rio and the colorful favela hillside shacks above the city. Zach had guessed my intimacy with Erika and was unhappy about the prospect of working with me for even a short period of time. He was even more hostile than he had been before. Erika had received the coded cablegram from Jerusalem that carried orders for her and Zach to cooperate with me in any way necessary for the success of our common goal, stopping Adrian Stavros.
"If you need information from Minourkos, you go to Paracatu," Zach said tightly to me, his blue eyes flashing anger. His coffee on the table before him was untouched. "Our mission is to find Stavros and eliminate him. We obviously will not find him at Paracatu."
His hard eyes bore into mine. I turned from him to Erika. She was obviously distressed with his behavior. "What do you say, Erika?" I asked.
"I've told Zach already. I think your approach is right not only for you, but for us as well."
"Your brain is clouded with sex!" Zach hissed at her. "This man is obviously your lover. Anything he says seems reasonable to you."
"Please, Zach!" Erika said harshly.
"Oh, Christ," I mumbled, shaking my head. "Look, I don't need any sophomoric love antics getting in the way. Maybe I was wrong about our being able to work together. I can get help from Hawk just by asking. Or maybe the CIA. But I'm not going to get mixed up with some trigger-happy gunman who can't keep his personal feelings under control."
Zach's face suddenly grew beet red, and he started out of his chair. "Listen, Carter…"
"Sit down!" Erika ordered in a quiet but authoritative tone.
Zach shot a hard look at her, then settled back into his seat. He grumbled something under his breath, but avoided my eyes.
"If there is another outburst like that, we're going to have to have a talk," Erika said. "Do you understand, Zach?"
He hesitated. When he spoke, he snapped the word out. "Yes."
"There is nothing between us, Zach. Are you listening to me?"
He flashed a hard look at her. "Sure."
"There is nothing between us and never will be. So whatever passes between Nick and me is irrelevant to you. If we are to work together you must understand that."
He seemed to have relaxed a little. He glanced at me and then at Erika. His fists clenched on the table. "If you say so."
"I do say so. Now, I'm going to Paracatu. If you think such a plan is ill-advised, I'll try to get you taken off this assignment."
He looked at her, and his face changed and softened. "You know I wouldn't let you go without me." His eyes met mine again. "You and Carter are running the show, it seems. If you go, I will go."
"And can we lay off the courting competition until this is over?" I asked.
"You heard her," Zach said sullenly. "There is no competition." He looked down at his coffee cup.
"I'm sorry, Zach," Erika said.
He hunched his shoulders. "When do we leave for Paracatu?"
I studied him for a moment. Maybe it would work out after all. "The sooner the better."
"I know where we can rent a car," Erika said. "We can take the Brasilia road which passes through the Tijuca forest most of the way."
"That's right," I said. "If we can get the car today, I suggest we leave this evening. It would be best to drive during the night through that hot, sticky jungle."
"That is fine with me," Zach said.
"Then it's settled," Erika added. "Zach, will you help me pick out a reliable automobile?"
He glanced at her. A small grin moved his face. "From what I read about Carter, he's the car expert. Why don't we all go?" He looked over at me inquiringly.
I held his gaze for a moment. Yes, he would work out. "I'll get us a cab," I said.
We were under way that evening. On my recommendation, Zach had picked out a black BMW 3.0 CS sedan for the trip. Its handling characteristics were tops, and it had a gearbox that was a pleasure to operate. Zach drove until almost midnight, and then I took over. The road was not what could be considered well-traveled, even though it was the highway to Brasilia and the interior. Maintenance was generally bad and at certain places the jungle seemed about ready to recapture the narrow strip cut through its heart.
We had rested part of the afternoon in preparation for the drive, but the monotony of the trip soon wore on all of us. We drove through the night and slept twice the next day during the hottest time: once in the car sitting up, which didn't work because of the mosquitoes and the heat, and again in a dirty hotel in a small village. We drove again that night and arrived at Paracatu the following morning.
It was a whitewashed village of several thousand people that had a town square and numerous cantinas. We didn't stop there because we didn't want to attract attention. It would be logical for Stavros' men to entertain themselves by visiting the village, and one of them might become suspicious of white strangers.