No one approached the boats. Even when the rain came. At first it was gentle, then it increased in intensity. Still no one came to cover the boats or check their moorings.
All activity on the dark freighter ceased. From their vantage point the watchers caught occasional glimpses of cigarettes flaring, but the ship was just a blacker spot in the black night.
Finally activity in the village ceased.
The rain continued to fall.
Jake slept again.
When Flap shook him awake, the rain had slowed to a drizzle.
“Look,” he whispered so softly that at first Jake didn’t understand. He had to inch around to see what Flap was pointing at. After several seconds he realized he was looking at two men standing by the boat dock smoking. They were away from the light, but there they were, quite plain.
“They came out of the shack. I’m going now.”
“Okay.” Jake fumbled with the AK-47, made sure the action was clear of leaves, then eased it through the foliage in front of him and spread his feet. Only then did he realize Flap had disappeared.
Minutes passed as he watched the figures by the boat dock. He could hear the murmur of voices. They stood smoking and talking.
Jake waited. If Flap were discovered now, they had no choice but to try for the cabin cruiser.
Finally the men turned and ambled uphill for the shack. One of them paused while the other went on ahead. He was facing in this direction. Only when he turned toward the shack did Jake realize that he was zipping up his pants. He had relieved himself.
The first man was already inside. The second man paused in the doorway. Flap was inside. Jake stopped breathing and blinked rapidly, trying to see in the almost nonexistent light. If the man shouted or fired his weapon…
Then he turned for the door and merged with another shadow coming out. Now he disappeared within.
In less than a minute Flap Le Beau came across the open ground toward Jake’s position. He was walking calmly, with a rifle in each hand. When he approached Jake’s position he said softly, “Come on. Let’s look at the boat.”
Jake wormed his way straight ahead out of the brush, then struggled to his feet. Flap was already at the boat dock. Jake followed along, trying to look as nonchalant as the two guards had.
Flap got into the cabin cruiser. “The battery works,” he reported.
“Any fuel?”
“There’s a can here. Let me see.” A half minute passed. “Well, it’s gasoline. A couple of gallons. I’m going to pour it into the tank.”
This cabin cruiser — what if it were sabotaged? Maybe they should take one of the little boats. Jake looked in them for oars. Each of them had a set. They had outboard engines too, but the presence of oars seemed to indicate that the owners of the boats weren’t brimming with confidence over the reliability of those engines. Or maybe they were just careful.
It was going to be a big gamble.
Jake turned his back on the cabin cruiser and stood looking at the village. A faint glow from three or four lights showed through the foliage.
Flap joined him on the dock. “Decision time, shipmate. We can untie this scow and get out of here right now with a chance and maybe a future. They won’t know this tub’s gone until morning.”
“You’re senior,” Jake told him. “You make the decision and you live with it.”
“I’m giving you a choice.”
“This is ridiculous.” They couldn’t stand here in plain sight arguing like two New York bankers waiting for a taxi. “Lead the way, Le Beau. I’ll be right behind you.”
Flap took one of the AKs and lowered it into the water, then released it. With the other rifle in his left hand, he turned and walked off the dock. Jake followed him.
They circled the village through the jungle. The weapons cache was on the side away from the sea, a hundred yards from the long pier. At least two guards were on duty.
Flap picked a vantage point and watched for a while with Jake beside him. The guards walked the perimeter alertly. After the second one passed, Flap told Jake, “They’re too alert. They know something’s up.”
“Maybe they missed that guy you killed this afternoon.”
“Maybe.”
“What if there’s someone inside the pile?”
“There is. Believe it.”
“Let’s go around to the other side and get a look before we go in.”
Flap led the way with Jake behind him. Jake concentrated on following Flap, afraid that he might lose him, and let Flap worry about avoiding the opposition.
Flap halted on a little hill halfway between the ship and the cache. The village was directly opposite them. To get to the boat landing, however, they would have to either pass the village or retrace the route they had just traveled, circling both the weapons cache and the village.
“Has to be here,” Flap said. “It’s shitty, I know. But we’ll need a side shot at the ship. From the boat landing we’re looking at her stern.” After a bit he asked, “Think you can get here on your own if you have to?”
“Yeah. Unless they turn off that streetlight across the way.”
“They won’t. Let’s go.”
They went back toward the cache and settled in fifty feet away, hidden in waist-high foliage. Flap waited until a guard went by and turned the corner, then he flitted across the gap like a shadow and disappeared into an aisle between stacks of boxes. He left his rifle with Jake.
One minute passed, then another.
The second guard came around the corner and walked by.
Flap had to find the man inside amid the aisles, if there was one, kill him, then come back to dispose of the guards outside. It was a tall order, yet these men had to be down before Jake and Flap could rip into the boxes, which could not be done noiselessly.
Several more minutes ticked by. Jake fingered his flooded, useless watch. Perhaps he should have thrown it away.
Okay, Flap. Where are you, shipmate?
Come on! Come on, Flap!
Oh, Jesus, don’t let anything happen to Le Beau.
Little late to think about that, isn’t it, Jake? You two could be on a boat going down the river right this very moment if you hadn’t insisted on going through with this.
Well, something had gone wrong. Flap was in trouble.
Jake was torn by indecision. If he went inside looking he could blow this whole deal. Yet if Le Beau were injured he might die without assistance.
Here comes one of the guards. Walking and looking, his rifle held carelessly in the crook of his arm.
As the guard went by the aisle where Flap had disappeared, he hesitated. Jake stared at him across the sights of the AK. Now the guard took a step back and peered into the gloom as Jake’s finger tightened on the trigger. If he points his weapon he’s dead.
Hands reached for the guard and jerked him forward off his feet, into the aisle.
What were you worried about, Jake? Flap’s the best, the absolute best, a fucking super-Marine.
More time passed.
Waiting was the hard part. If you didn’t know what was happening.
Jake lifted his head and took a long, careful scan of the area. No one moving.
The other guard came around the corner. He was more alert than the first one. He held his rifle in both hands, the muzzle up. He looked puzzled.
Uh-oh, he didn’t pass the other guy and now he’s wondering where he is.
He stopped and looked about carefully, then turned and went back the way he had come. When he reached the corner an arm shot forward. The guard jerked away.
Even from this distance Jake could see the hilt of the knife protruding just below his chin. The rifle fell harmlessly as the man staggered, grabbing at his throat. Le Beau was right there, an arm coiling around the man’s mouth to ensure he didn’t scream. When he went down Jake hobbled forward.