A raucous blare of horns sounded directly outside the window. I caught a glimpse of grinning, shouting, singing faces marching past, holding some kind of a banner.
"The problem," I continued, "is that if we hit the fishing boats, and manage to disable the explosive devices, the headquarters inside the crater will be warned in time to evacuate. Even if not all the machinery, at least the personnel needed to build it again at some other time and in some other place. And that includes Michelle's father, who is the key to the whole operation."
The noise from outside had risen to a roar now. The streets on the other side of the window were jammed. I saw a flash of color, and then another. Enormous papier-mache masks of birds, fish, weird creatures from Caribbean legends, caricatures of humans, all vividly colorful and with exaggerated characteristics, were marching past, swaying from side to side. Some of the figures were life-sized, with the people inside them completely hidden from view. And when they didn't march, they danced, to the insinuating beat of the beguine.
"On the other hand," I continued, leaning across the table to make myself audible to the others, "if we hit the volcano first, the headquarters may be able to get word to the boats to set sail. Once they're out of the harbor, those fishing boats will be lost among the tens of thousands of others in the Caribbean. With the explosive devices already aboard them."
"And I'd give a pretty good guess," said Li Chin, "at this close to countdown for the Curaçao attack, they're probably already armed."
"We have to assume they are," I agreed. "So there's only one thing for us to do. It's not much of a chance, but it's our only chance."
There was an even louder outburst of music outside. One of the window panes in the front door shattered. I heard the waiter swear with annoyance and rush to the front door. He flung it open and began to remonstrate with the paraders. Laughter and more shouts came from the street.
"If I dig you right, man," said Sweets slowly, "we're gonna have to attack the boats and the volcano simultaneously."
"Impossible!" Michelle hissed.
"Improbable," I said dryly, "but not impossible. And, as I just said, our only chance. Sweets and Li Chin will handle the boats. Michelle, you and I will pay a little visit to Mont Pelee."
There was a sudden burst of color at the door. One of the paraders, his entire body covered by a brilliant green and red fish costume, had brushed aside the waiter and now stood inside the door. He was waving one fin-covered hand to his friends on the street, beckoning them, in spite of the now-outraged waiter's protests.
"Hey, man," said Sweets. "I've got another little idea. Why don't…"
"Look!" said Li Chin. "They're coming in! Wow! What a crazy scene!"
The paraders had suddenly swept over the waiter like a tidal wave, the green and red fish at their head. There were giant parrots, sharks with grinning mouths and shining teeth, a giant coal-black grotesque figure of half-man half-bird, out of Caribbean Voodoo legend, a vividly pink pig with an oversized snout, and dozens, it seemed, of foil-covered shining fish-heads. They were dancing wildly through the restaurant now, shouting, swaying from side to side. Where before the room had been quiet and calm, it was now a crowded chaos of bodies and movement and raucous noise.
"You know something. Carter," Li Chin said to me as the dancers came toward our table, "this could just be a lot of fun. And maybe that's all it is. But for some reason, 1 don't like it."
I didn't either. And I couldn't have said why, any more than Li Chin could. It was just that sixth sense that warns any good agent of danger where nothing else can. What I wanted was to get the four of us out of that room and away from that crowd immediately. But it was impossible. The papier-mache figures had surrounded our table now, dancing madly around us to the music from the streets.
"Dansez!" they started to cry. "Dansez!"
Suddenly, arms reached out, and Li Chin and Michelle were being tugged to their feet, as voices urged them to join the dance. I saw Li Chin begin to twist her arm and adjust her weight in an instinctive Kung Fu reaction, then, like lightning, Sweets' hand darted out to restrain her.
"Cool it!" he commanded. "These folks are gentle and polite and friendly by nature, but offend their hospitality — and that includes an invitation to dance — and they could turn ugly!"
Michelle, still resisting the hands that reached for her, tugged at her, shot a frightened glance at me.
"Sweets is right." I said. "There's a lot more of them than us, and the last thing we want is a brawl that will bring in the police."
An instant later the two women had been pulled to their feet and were being jogged madly about.
"Stick to Li Chin," I snapped to Sweets. "Don't let her out of your sight. I'll take Michelle."
We both sprang to our feet and edged into the crowd which was rapidly bearing the two women away from the table. I slipped between a couple of foil fish and elbowed aside a black, white, and red rooster, flapping its wings wildly in time to the music, to come behind Michelle. She was being whirled in dizzy circles by the pink pig, its oversized snout bumping against her face.
"Buvez!" a voice suddenly cried. Drink! And the cry was caught up all over the room. "Buvez! Buvez!"
Jostling determinedly to keep near Michelle, I saw money being flung down on the bar, and bottles snatched up. They were flung in the air across the room, the corks pulled, and passed from hand to hand.
"Buvez!" a voice shouted in my ear, half deafening me. "Voici! Buvez!"
Before I knew it, a bottle was thrust into my hand, and pushed toward my mouth. To get it over with, I raised it to my lips, and took a fast swallow. It was the clear new rum of the cane fields, greasy and sweet, and it burned down my throat like sulphuric acid. Suppressing the urge to gag, I managed a grin, and passed the bottle back to its owner, a silver-gray seagull with a long pointed hook for a beak. He pressed it back into my hands. I raised it to my mouth, pretended to take another swallow, and passed it on to the eager hands of a grinning, toothy shark.
Then I glanced back in Michelle's direction, and she was gone.
I pushed furiously into the crowd, using my shoulders and elbows, digging a path through a nightmarish assortment of animal, bird and fish figures.
"Michelle!" I called. "Michelle! Answer me!"
"Here!" I heard her faint voice. "Over here!"
Suddenly, I caught sight of her. She was near the door, this time in the embrace of the giant rooster. And he was dancing her out the door. Then, just as suddenly, I felt myself being forced toward the door. The entire direction of the crowd had changed. Just as they had swept into the restaurant like a tidal wave, now they were sweeping back out. I let myself be borne along among jostling bodies, smelling thick odors of sweat, my ears deafened with hoarse cries, screams of laughter, and the bellowing brass of horns. Up ahead, I could see Michelle's long black hair as she was being swayed from side to side by her partner, now an animal, now a bird, now a fish.
"Buvez!" a voice cried in my ear. "Buvez!"
This time 1 thrust the bottle aside. We were in the street now, and I couldn't risk losing sight of Michelle even for an instant. Sweets and Li Chin were nowhere to be seen.