I was passing out, but I recognized the voice. It was the second time Vic Maitlin had saved my life.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
My head was splitting open. Someone had taken an axe and cleaved it. I can’t even describe the incredible pain. And then I opened my eyes and concentrated on consciousness. And there was James, propped up against the wall next to me. He was tied with thick rope, and maybe because the light was dim, he appeared to have a gray hue to his skin.
My hands were numb, tied too tightly behind my back, and my head really did ache. Part of me hoped that James was passed out so the pain of his beating wouldn’t be so hard to bear. The other part of me wanted him to wake up fast so we could try to make some plans. Hardy Boys novels didn’t seem so glamorous this time.
Someone had been stationed outside that door. Knowing I’d snuck in before, they must have decided to secure the entrances. And someone who sounded like Vic Maitlin had stopped the guard from strangling me. I couldn’t be wrong about that voice. He wasn’t dead. But it didn’t appear he was being held captive, either.
My head throbbed, and my neck was raw and bruised. And that was minor compared to what James must be going through. His nose appeared to be left of center, and he had a large swelling over his right eye. Someone had wiped the blood from his face, but fresh blood was dripping from his nose and a cut on his lower lip. His breathing was shallow and raspy, and I was afraid if we didn’t get medical attention soon, he might go into shock. I didn’t want to speculate on how much worse he might get.
Sweat beaded on my forehead and I could feel my T-shirt, moist and sticky on my skin. It must have been over one hundred degrees in the small office. Gently I twisted my head and surveyed the surroundings. Four walls and a window that seemed to look out into the warehouse. A gunmetal gray desk, swivel chair, and two filing cabinets were shoved up against the far wall. A faded calendar with a dark-skinned girl in a bikini smiling seductively hung on the far wall. It just seemed out of place. I figured we were in the office that I’d seen at the far end of the warehouse. The balcony would be above us.
The faint aroma of a cigar wafted through the small room and low voices murmured outside. They were talking about a truck arriving, picking up the guns, and driving down to Key West. Then there was something about a boat. So the guns were being taken to Cuba tonight. The invasion must be soon.
What the hell was the deal with Vic Maitlin? I tried to picture a scenario where he would be in a position to order someone not to kill me. This from a guy who’s finger had been severed and was being held for ransom. A ransom of twenty million dollars in shares of Cafe Cubana. It made no sense, but my head hurt, I was dizzy, and my best friend was next to me, unconscious and barely breathing. I wasn’t thinking clearly.
I wondered if the truck had arrived yet. I don’t know how long I was out, but if people were still in the warehouse it would appear that they were still waiting to load the guns on a truck. I glanced at James and there was no change. Sweat and blood soaked his shirt where his head hung down on his chest and his rough breathing didn’t sound good.
Footsteps and Spanish-speaking voices approached the office and I closed my eyes. Let them think both of us were unconscious until I knew what they wanted.
The door opened and several people walked in.
“You guys have got to stop with the Spanish.” A different voice. “It’s been too long, man. I can’t follow you.”
I didn’t recognize the voice.
“They have been nothing but a thorn in our side. This entire part of the operation would have been trouble free without these two.”
“Not altogether true, Israel. What about the grocer and his gay friend?”
“Castro’s spies. There is no doubt.”
“They caused problems.”
“And they were dealt with. But these two-”
“These two are here, under our control, and we can now get rid of them.”
Only two voices speaking and one of them was Carlos.
“Maybe there is another alternative.”
It was Vic.
“Maybe we can keep them tied up here in the office. Jesus is staying here and he could keep an eye on them until our operation begins.”
Everyone was quiet for a moment. Finally, Carlos spoke. “Keep an eye on them? What the fuck are they, children to be watched? Listen, Victor, we talked about collateral damage. People will die. Some innocent, some not. It will happen. It’s a necessary part of war. Are you losing your courage?”
“I was born with more courage than you’ll have in a lifetime!” There was venom in Victor’s voice.
“Then show some. Here is my pistol. Shoot them both, and we’ll throw their bodies in the water. Casualties of war, Victor. Here, take it.”
It was time to open my eyes. I wanted to have some say in the matter.
“Vic.”
He looked down at me. The same good looks, dark skin and eyes, and big hands, one of them wrapped around a pistol. There seemed to be five healthy fingers on each one. “Hey, Skip.”
Carlos stood in the doorway, smirking. A third man watched with wide eyes and an unhealthy grin plastered on his face. He seemed to be eagerly awaiting my demise.
“Vic, I’m really glad to see you have all your fingers.” Vic’s fingers. One of the main reasons I was in this predicament.
He gave me a vague smile. “Yeah. That was never for your benefit.”
“Jackie?”
“Jackie. She was supposed to open the envelope, realize my father was being blackmailed, and stay out of the way for a while.”
“But she never opened the envelope. I did.”
“I’m truly sorry you got involved. Ironic isn’t it?”
I ignored the comment. “But, whose finger was it?”
He glanced at Carlos, who was leaning against the door frame, amused at the story Vic was telling.
“There was a Cuban grocer and his significant other who stumbled onto our little plan. We took them to the Cuban Social Club and-”
“We talked to them.” Carlos laughed. “And then we cut off the finger of one of the men when they refused to tell us what we wanted to know. He squealed like a baby.”
The third man spoke. “But they told us everything. They were reporting back to Cuba about our plans for invasion. It’s very simple really. You just remove body parts to get a full confession.”
I was trying to put it all together. “You decided to send the finger-”
“And Victor’s class ring.”
“The finger and the ring to Jackie?”
Vic nodded. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
James was wheezing, his chest almost jerking with every breath he took.
“Vic, James doesn’t sound good. He could use a doctor.”
I saw the indecision in his eyes. He glanced at Carlos, then to James, and back to me, and sighed.
“Saving someone’s life once in a lifetime should be enough. It should be more than enough.”
I didn’t mention that he’d saved my life again by stopping the guard from strangling me.
Vic pointed the pistol at James, held the pose for a moment, then swung the barrel so it was aimed directly at my head. He cocked the hammer and a chill went down my back and I shivered in the stifling heat of the office.
Then he turned and handed the pistol back to Carlos. “I am responsible for this man’s life. While I may not save it again, I cannot take it. It has nothing to do with courage, but everything to do with the laws of life.”
Carlos stared at the pistol in his hand, then shrugged, released the hammer and stuck the handgun in his belt. I breathed a sigh of relief and said a silent prayer. I’m not a religious person, but sometimes you just feel that someone upstairs is watching out for you.
Carlos put a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “You think what you did was admirable. You would like to think everything you do is noble and well thought out. You are no better than the rest of us. You do this not just for Los Historicos. You do it for your own greed.”