Shooting Script

'J.B. did not think so. She thought we were not expelled officially – just a temporary whim of General Bosco's. And now we know the Air Force must have been very busy yesterday, preparing for tonight. They probably did not have time to check passenger lists.'

'You managed to stop Miss Jiminez going, I noticed.'

'My friend, the Jiminez family does not walk openly into the República. Not just yet. That is a very different matter.'

I looked back at the instruments and noticed I'd wandered nearly ten degrees off course. I wrenched her back angrily.

'And I suppose Whitmore insisted on staying at the Americana?' I growled.'Boscomay not have checked the passengerlists, but he'd notice Whitmore sitting around the bar. That place is nearly Air Force headquarters.'

'I know that,' he said calmly. 'They are staying at the Colombo, on the beach front near the old town. Jiminez will control the old town, whatever happens. Now, we must consider if the move by the Air Force changes our raid.' He glanced at my meagre ten-channel VHP. 'I wish we had arranged communication with Jiminez.'

'It doesn't change the raid at all. Those Vamps are the only high card the Air Force has got. Without them…'

'But also they are the only things to stop the Army's tanks and artillery. If we let the Air Force and Army fight it out and exhaust themselves-'

'Testículos. Bosco'll play every card in the pack twice over before he starts knocking out tanks and guns. He's thepresidentenow; they'rehis tanks and guns, his army – he hopes. He wants it in one piece to keep Jiminez down.'

He thought this over. 'So you think perhaps he will not use the jets today?'

'He'll use them for strafing in the streets, if there's still any fighting in SB. Those twenty-millimetres could knock down a house.'

He nodded. 'But it might have a reverse effect: to swing people to Jiminez, if they see the Air Force-'

'And J.B. could be dead!'

After a time he said quietly: 'My friend, what war are you fighting?'

'One in which J.B. doesn't get killed.'

'Others, my friend, are fighting for somewhat larger objectives. So you will forgive me if / take the decisions now.'

'You take what you like. I'm going to knock out those Vamps.'

'I may decide that is best. But / will decide.'

'Testi-' but then I saw the hand and the short fat revolver glowing in the instrument lighting.

'Well, well, well,' I said slowly. 'So that's the famous snake gun. One shot, and you can try landing this old tub all by yourself – and see if that doesn't qualify for the fiasco of the year.'

'No fiasco,' he said pleasantly. 'Just two martyrs, lost in the dark sea.'

We were still over the sea.

I looked at him; his face set and unsmiling, just beside my shoulder in the narrow cockpit. And at the gun, less than an arm's grab away. Would he shoot – risk killing himself, too? Yes, he would – if I challenged him to.

I felt the cold, slow anger building inside. Always someone with a gun, saying don't fly here, saying step aside – but not any more, not tome, not now I'm back doing the one job I know…

Then I remembered that now this had become different from all the other missions I'd flown. This wasn't just because I was the best – not now. Ihad to get those Vampires before they started shooting.

'You're forgetting who you are, chum,' I said quietly. 'You're Luiz Monterrey – big star, big success symbol. I go missing and nobody'U notice. Butyou get killed, in an old bomber going to take part in a revolution – and that's really failure. That's a fiasco. It'll get more publicity than Jiminez himself.'

He frowned thoughtfully. 'I do not think there will be time for that to matter, perhaps.'

'This isn't going to be a one-day wonder – not now the Air Force has stepped in. Jiminez has got a long way to go – and he hasn't got very far yet, has he?' I made a small gesture at the radio in his lap. 'There'll be plenty of time for the reporters to get in. They're probably on their way already -somebody else will have picked up that broadcast.'

For a long time, he didn't say anything. I eased the Mitchell back on to her proper heading again and checked the time. It was nearly a quarter to five; under fifty miles still to go. I tuned the instrument lighting right down and stared carefully at the eastern sky. Was there just a hint of lightness there? Or just the distant clouds over the Repúblicamainland?

Then Luiz said: 'We will attack.'

TWENTY-SEVEN

Ten minutes later there was a faint but definite paleness in the east. Not enough yet, only enough to fool you that you might be able to identify something or judge a distance.

I let the Mitchell droop into a long descent, waited until she'd picked up a bit of speed, then eased back the port engine.

'Ten minutes,' I said. 'Better get yourself organised.'

'I can wait a bit longer.' He was staring ahead, for the first sure sight of the coastline in the dimness under the cloud that marked the land.

'Didn't they teach you how to address the aircraft captain in your air force?'

I caught the ghost of a grin. 'Of course – sir.'

'Once we cross the coast I'll start the starboard engine. After that I'll be making turns: you'll find it a sight more difficult to get into position then.'

'Sir.' He stood and carefully eased back out of his seat, picked up the Browning, and vanished into the dark cabin behind. I felt the slight tilt of his weight shift. A minute later, through one of the empty sockets in the instrument panel, I saw his shape moving against the transparent nose.

We were doing 165 mph, going down through 5,000. The coast should be about fifteen miles ahead.

A crackle and hum in my headphones told me Luiz had plugged in.'I'vegot the gun mounted,' he reported. 'Ready when you are.'

'Right. I'll open the bomb doors in a minute.' I didn't want the drag, but if the normal system didn't work I wanted time in hand to use the manual lever without delaying the attack. 'I hope I'll cross east of the town, then turn and pass north of the base at about a thousand feet. It'll be on our left. If the Vampires are lined up, I'll count them. Youlook around for any odd ones parked elsewhere. Got that?'

'Yes, Capitán.'

'We'll makeour run from the west. Don't shoot until then. They'll see us go past the first time, but they might not guess what we're up to. Bomb doors going open.'

I leant across and held up the switch. The sudden drag and the windy roar behind me told me they were opening. The speed dropped 5 mph.

Luiz said: 'Coast ahead.'

I looked up from the instruments, and there it was: a faint ragged greyness on the horizon with a thin, flickering line of breaking surf. I stared at it. 'Christ, we've missed the city entirely. There should be lights-'

'One does not switch on one's lights when there is shooting in the streets, my friend.'

I should have thought of that. The Santo Bartolomeans would be old hands at how to behave in revolutions by now.

But I still couldn't see the city.

Then a faint flick of light, brief as a flashbulb, over to port. I stared at where it had been, wondering about it, and if I was imagining a shapeless darker shape around it.

'A grenade,' Luiz said sombrely. "There is still fighting.'

I was two or three miles starboard of track. I turned gently due north to skim the edge of the city. Still about eight miles out, down to 3,500 feet.

Gradually the coastline hardened ahead. The paleness of beaches, the darker cliffs, the still darker shapes of trees above. Then slowly filling with dim colour in the greyness. And over to the left die city, the dark mass separating into a jumble of little blocks with light and shadow sides, like a child's building bricks.

Still with the occasional flash of a grenade.

When the coastline was on the nose, I reached for the starboard engine controls. The prop blades twisted to catch the wind, turned, vanished. The engine coughed, and caught in a clattering howl.