Dr. Fleming was against the back wall, one knee drawn up, the other leg stretched out badly swollen. He was sitting on the green slime that covered the stone floor, one hand held above his head by a thick iron cuff on a chain stapled into the wall.
He raised his head, blinked against the light, saw me at the edge of it and straightened. Then he saw the guard with the rifle and finally, the lieutenant.
Fleming’s shoulders dropped again and he let his head fall. The officer stood above him, smiling. He unbuttoned his holster, lifted out his gun and stepped aside where he could watch both Fleming and me, raising the gun slowly toward my middle.
“Doctor.” The voice was oily. “Did you hope you had an effective ally on the island? A man who saved you once and might again? I present him to you now. I will leave him with you. After I have assured myself that he will stay here to answer Colonel Jerome’s questions.”
Behind me Lambie’s breath stucked in, loud and wet.
I had several choices: I could step aside and let my man shoot the lieutenant. But the officer might be faster on the trigger and I was becoming very fond of Lambie. Or I could try for a distraction and go for my Luger.
While I was debating a rat as big as a house cat, flushed out of hiding by the lantern, scuffed across the cell, over the lieutenant’s boots. He saw the dark ugly shape from the corner of an eye, jumped away, and shot it. That took his gun off me long enough. Mine was in my hand. I fired through his eye. The lantern sailed into the air. I caught it with my free hand, burned my fingers on the hot globe, but set it down without breaking it. The lieutenant fell on his face, staining the green slime with red.
Lambie made a pleased sound. I was pleased too that my movement hadn’t surprised him, causing him to contract his trigger finger. I gave Lambie a fist of thanks on his shoulder, then we looked to the doctor. Fleming squinted, not yet accustomed to light. He looked up bewildered.
“I don’t understand,” he quavered. “Colonel Jerome asked me to return to lead the government. Why have I been arrested? Why were you brought here? Why are you so friendly with this soldier?”
“Later,” I told him. “We’ll talk about it.”
Both David Hawk and Tara Sawyer had been emphatic about the doctor not discovering that we were involved in his being made president. I cursed them both. After Jerome’s doublecross, I was tempted to tell the truth. But if they were right, if Fleming turned sulky and wouldn’t play any more, who was going to keep the enemy off the island? So I lied my eyeballs off. If I could get Fleming to Noah, maybe the black patriarch could explain things to him.
I pointed to his foot. “How badly are you hurt?”
He still looked puzzled but I wanted him thinking of something other than politics.
He sighed. “My leg’s broken.”
I left Fleming to search the lieutenant’s pockets for a key to the handcuff. It wasn’t on him. I took the lantern to the chain and examined it. I could shoot the chain off, but I didn’t have too much ammunition with me. I might need my bullets upstairs. A shot wasted here could make a difference in whether we made it away from the fort.
The mortar between the stones where the staple was anchored was a couple of centuries old, weakened by water seepage. I braced a foot against the wall and pulled. The chain was loose and moved a fraction of an inch, but it wouldn’t come free. I tried a couple of times, but, it was no go. We’d have to dig it out.
I snapped my arm and the stiletto dropped out of the chamois sheath into my curved fingers. The razor-sharp point bit into the mortar, chipped away a pebble at a time. Lambie worked the staple. It took more time than I liked. In spite of the cold, I was sweating. If the lieutenant didn’t show upstairs soon, somebody would come looking, several somebodies.
I cut around one side of the staple. Then, with both Lambie and me hauling on the chain, the tired old metal broke. We stumbled back, slipping in the oily slime. Fleming was yanked forward, but the chain kept us from falling. When I caught my balance, I stuffed the loose end of the chain in the doctor’s pocket and Lambie and I lifted him to his good foot. He was wobbly from the ordeal. I left Lambie to support him while I stripped off the lieutenant’s gold-braided coat. I also took the dead man’s belt and gun, handed them to Lambie and held the Doctor’s arm.
I told Lambie, “Get out of that jacket and into this. You’re being commissioned in the field.”
Lambie complied. Carrying Fleming between us, we went back to the guard room.
Mitzy Gardner’s handsome chest heaved in relief. She turned a chair for the doctor, saying as he sank into it, “What kept you so long? We were just about to come looking. God, what did they do to him?”
I snapped my fingers at Caco.
“Keys. Look in the drawers.”
He opened the top drawer and tossed me a handful. I tried several before I found one that fit, then the lock was so rusty I had to slam it with a paper weight until it released. When the handcuff fell away, I saw the spikes inside and the drying blood around deep gashes on Fleming’s wrist. Rust from the old handcuff was embedded in the cuts, but there was no way to wash them, no medication in the office. It would have to wait.
I explained my plan for leaving the fort. Lambie in his new uniform would stand with his back to the door. Caco was to tell the private on the drawbridge that the lieutenant wanted him inside. When he came, we would disarm him, then tie and gag him.
With the door cleared, Mitzy would go for the car, head it downhill close to the drawbridge while we brought Fleming across. He and I would curl up on the floor of the rear seat, Lambie in his braid would ride in the front between Mitzy and Caco.
At the sentry box Lambie would hold the lieutenant’s gun on Mitzy, turned to face her. Caco would tell the corporal Jerome had ordered the girl brought to him. If it worked, fine. If it didn’t, I had my Luger and Lambie and Caco were also armed. Three against three are very good odds.
We made it to the Caddy without trouble. Mitzy flipped on the headlights and drove downhill. The sentries saw us coming and moved out to the road, but not blocking it. They didn’t expect a jailbreak. The corporal raised a hand to make a routine check and Mitzy stopped abreast of him. Caco leaned forward to screen Lambie from the soldiers and sounded disgusted.
“Colonel changed his mind. He wants the girl brought to him. Now.”
The corporal looked worried. “Lieutenant, if you take her over yourself, who’s in charge here?”
“You are,” Lambie barked. “Don’t pass anyone through until I come back. Drive on.”
The corporal jumped back. Lambie’s voice didn’t match the real lieutenant’s. “Hold on... you’re not... What is this?”
I heard a gun explode and came to my knees. Caco had shot the corporal. The privates were caught off guard, but as Mitzy slammed the car ahead, one still grabbed at the door handle. I broke the hand with the snout of the Luger, then shot him. The other’s rifle was whipping up when I put a bullet in his stomach. His rifle went off and plowed a hole in the door.
Then we were clear, swerving headlong down the drive. We were near the bottom when the Caddy sputtered and died. I knew the sound. We were out of gas. Mitzy coasted to a stop, looked around at me and shrugged. With the town under martial law, gas stations were closed. And Fleming was in no shape for a hike of more than twenty miles through the mountains.