The answer was no. There had been one. They described it. A slender mole hole that ran from a cell to the face of the hill below the foundations. It had been too narrow to turn around in and too steep to allow anyone to crawl backwards to the cell. There was an iron grille across the hillside where the passage opened. A bleached skull pressed against the bars inside and finger bones still wrapped around them. So much for that. I would have to play it by ear and it could be messy.
I said so. “Are you ready to tackle it?”
I got two elaborate shrugs, fatalistic. Caco said quietly. “If Fleming dies, we die anyway. Jerome wants our mountain for his missile station. He will come for it and we have not enough men and too few weapons to stop him.”
More and more I liked Noah’s men. There was no guessing their ages, but their skin was sleek, with good muscle under it, and there was nothing wrong with their coordination. They moved with the grace of jungle cats. I pointed at the uniforms.
“Climb into those. You’ll play the part of soldiers. You’ve captured Mitzy and me and you’ll deliver us at the fort. You’ll tell them Jerome has ordered us locked in with Dr. Fleming, in the same cell.”
The girl’s eyes slitted. I didn’t like putting her life in jeopardy, but our “capture” would be more convincing if she was with us.
Caco and Lambie peeled out of the shirts and pants, hesitated over the loin clothes, then shyly turned their backs and unwound those. Both were wearing ouanga, battle charm sacks on thongs around their necks. Rifles were fine, but I guess they felt it didn’t hurt to take along a little extra protection. They buttoned the uniform jackets over the charms, hiked up the army trousers, and squared to attention.
We went back through the tunnel to the shed. Mitzy still drove, with me beside her in front. The two men stood up in the rear with their rifles against our necks.
The girl backed out and headed for the fort, using rear alleys. Tonight the streets were empty, everyone keeping indoors behind drawn blinds. The shops were dark and barred against looters. Port of Spain was a silent, grim city, altogether different from the gay place of the night before.
We climbed toward the fort on the low hill. A green lawn in front of the building tried to make it look innocent, but the iron fence surrounding it and a cannon bristling midway spoiled the effect. So did the sentry box outside the fence.
A corporal and two privates saw our climbing lights and walked into the road with rifles ready. Mitzy slowed and stopped short of them. Behind me Lambie cried out:
“Corporal, come see what we have. The fat prize.” He shoved my head forward with the rifle barrel, giving a high laugh.
The corporal came near with caution. Both our boys broke into a hairy story of the battle they’d had to take us. They made it good and convincing. The corporal was impressed. While our guys were still bragging, he raised his rifle, centering it on me.
My stomach tightened. He wouldn’t shoot Mitzy, I was sure, because of the possible ransom. But what Jerome had in mind for me might be something else. The corporal let me stew while he took the pleasure of watching me through his sights. Then he barked a command. The privates moved out of the road. The corporal climbed into the rear seat and ordered Mitzy to drive up to the fort.
It was a grisly looking building, no windows and only a single, center door like an open mouth. It made me think of a blind beast that ate people who displeased its master. It even had a plank tongue protruding from it. Mitzy stopped on the paved parking lot in front, and I saw that the planks were a drawbridge across a moat. It was weed-choked now, but in times past there would’ve been a line of slaves hauling sea water to fill it. Any attack would’ve had a wet crossing.
A private held the center of the bridge and the whole area was floodlighted. Our corporal got out and leveled his rifle again.
“Get them to the ground while I cover the man.”
I was prodded again and stepped out. Mitzy got out on the other side. Caco and Lambie kept their guns in our backs. The corporal gloated for a bit, then left us to cross the drawbridge and enter the fort. Minutes later he strutted back with a lieutenant. The private on the bridge presented arms smartly and the new man’s austere bearing tipped me he was in command.
The corporal chattered with excited gestures, hopping around until the officer slashed a hand to shut him up. From the glitter in the lieutenant’s eyes, I thought I knew who would collect Jerome’s reward, if this had been the real capture.
Lambie said smartly, “Colonel’s orders, sir. These two are to be locked up with Fleming. All the netted birds together.”
“Understood,” the lieutenant snapped. “Bring them into the guard room.”
He about-faced and we were walked into the old building along a stone passage, a place of chill echoes, a nightmare for a claustrophobiac. In the guard room the lieutenant flicked a hand that ordered us searched.
Caco chirped, “We did that when we caught them, sir. Stripped them clear down.”
“You did well.” The lieutenant turned a smirk on me. “Nick Carter, is it. Very dangerous, the colonel said. Tonight your teeth are going to be pulled, I think.”
I let my shoulders slump and put on a hangdog look. He swung his attention to Mitzy. Even with tears in her eyes and huddled like a frightened kitten she was a lot to see. Maybe he even liked her better submissive. His hips swayed and he pried her chin up with a forefinger.
“You, there. The colonel says you are valued by the Syndicate, that they will pay well to have you back. We will ask.”
Mitzy cowered further, pressed a hand over her mouth and whimpered. “Please, sir, please don’t send me there. They’ll kill me.”
The man’s brows climbed. “If you have value, why would they do that?”
She chewed her lip, holding back, then as though she saw that he had the power to make her talk, she whispered, “I was carrying some money for them. I didn’t deliver it...”
Dollar signs pinwheeled in the dark eyes. He sounded eager. “Where is it now?”
Suddenly looking hopeful, her words pounced. “I could show you. I couldn’t describe where... But if you turn us loose, I’d...”
His laugh was nasty. “No need for that, is there? As for Carter, the colonel would chain me in his place if I lost him.” He shrugged. “For some reason, Jerome is very impressed.”
The girl twisted her fingers together, held them toward the man, moved toward him, supplication and sensuousness in every step.
“Just me then? You and I?”
Lust fit up his face. Without taking his eyes off her, he spoke to our two men.
“One of you stay here, the other take Carter to the cell.”
I had a bad minute while I thought the lieutenant meant to stay with the girl. Then I realized he was sending me below with a single guard. I moved a few muscles as if I liked the idea and would try to jump the guard along the way. I thought Mitzy could handle the officer all right, but there might be a fight, noise, and I didn’t want a fracas to bring in more soldiers. The lieutenant caught my movements, smirked, and decided to go along with me, after all. He started out the door ahead of me and Lambie. Mitzy called after him, sugar sweet.
“Lieutenant... I’ll be waiting...”
He marched down the corridor more jaunty than military. I glanced over my shoulder as we left. The lieutenant’s mind would not be, entirely on duty while he took me to the cell.
At the end of the hall he opened a door, a stone slab, waved us ahead and pulled it closed after him. With that granite shut tight, no sound from the dungeons would be heard above ground. We went down a circular stone stairway to another passage. Down here water dripped from limestone stalactites on the arched ceiling, winking in the light of the officer’s lantern. There was no other illumination. He took the lead again, past about twenty grilled doors on either side of the stinking passage. At the far end he fished a brass key six inches long from a pocket, unlocked the grille and preceded me into the cell.