The movement in the little entry hall was too fast for me. I’d barely caught it in my peripheral vision when a hand holding a gun came slashing down at my head. I reacted instinctively and ducked, but the blow caught my neck, paralyzing my arm. My machine gun thudded on the floor, and I couldn’t bend my elbow to reach the Luger — couldn’t even snap out my stiletto.
I jumped back, clawed with my left hand for the wrist that held the gun, and got a grip on. I stood looking right into Jerome’s eyes.
So he wasn’t dead. He had a huge bump on his forehead. It must have kept him near the edge a long while, but there was nothing ghostly about his muscle. He was a fine physical specimen. And he could fight as dirty as I could.
While my right hand still hung limp and my left held his arm, he threw a hard fist into my chin and a knee into my crotch. I sagged against him in excruciating pain. But I had to get that gun away from him. Our raised arms came down as I slipped toward the floor. Suddenly he released his grip to let me fall. I went to my knees. He jerked his wrist free, fumbling with his gun to take aim. I buried my mouth in his leg, and clamped my teeth on him, and held on. He screamed and bent double over my back. The gun fell to the floor. I ground my teeth sideways. As he screamed again, I felt hot blood running through his pants. Then my fingers found the gun. I heaved up, dumped him over my shoulders, turned on one knee, and shot him. It spoiled the exquisite agony on his contorted face.
I flexed my right hand for a minute back to its strength. Then I pulled the colonel into the elevator cage. I took his fingerprints, fingers and all, with the stiletto, wrapped them in his handkerchief, and stuffed them in my pocket.
When I got down to the first floor I was surprised to see that Mitzy was still there. When I called her on the intercom, she opened the door.
“Did you find him?”
“I found him.”
“Nick, I’ve been thinking. I can’t sit on this nest forever. Let’s load up the truck and take the money up to Noah’s, where it will be safe.”
“All right. Wait here while I bring the truck to the garage.”
I got the truck, then moved Jerome out of the way and out of sight. We stowed the money under a tarpaulin and headed back to the hills.
We were almost at the capital fort when a jeep peeled down the drive and blocked the road in front of us. Cuban penants fluttered from the fenders. A colonel in Russian uniform stepped out of the rear, drawing his revolver, and came toward us, shouting.
“All vehicles are ordered off the streets. You had the order...” Then he saw Mitzy’s red head and gaped. “Who the hell are you? What are you doing in that truck?”
I brought the machine gun up over the dash and shot him. After I disposed of the officer and the driver in the jeep, I drove on up the slope and around the blockage, accelerator floored. So that was why there weren’t any senior island army officers in the open — they were in the fort for briefing on their new status, being told what their place was and to stay in it. There wasn’t even any pursuit. Nobody was around to see us. Port of Spain was under the martial law of a foreign power.
We were well out of town when we came to the tribe. With Noah at the head, they were marching toward us. Doctor Fleming rode in a litter chair, on the shoulders of as many men as would fit under the shafts. His head was high, his eyes glowing with confidence.
I groaned and stopped. How in hell had he conned the old men into this stunt? With God only knew how many foreign troops in the city! I got down and stood in front of the black giant. I began to shout at him, but he wouldn’t even consider turning back. I described the town, the takeover. No reaction.
“With Jerome gone, the people will revolt,” he said. “They will support the doctor.”
With what? Machetes? Noah stepped around me and walked serenely on. The tribe flowed around the truck, singing, pounding on drums. I gave up, climbed aboard, and started to turn the truck around. But Mitzy grabbed the wheel.
“You’re not taking that load back, lover. This goes up the mountain if I have to take it alone.”
Loyalties. Well, she was only on loan to AXE because of Fleming. If the damned fool insisted on getting himself killed, she was going to look out for her Mafia playmates. Okay by me. At least it would keep her out of the massacre. I jumped off with the machine gun and caught up with the head of the column.
The noise behind me grew louder as we went. Looking back, I saw people from the lowlands coming out of the brush, joining the tribe.
The whole native village sprouted like dragon teeth. Rivers of people came down from the hillside houses. The city residents arrived. Then the damnedest thing happened. The native army boiled out of the fort. I figured it was the end, but their backs were toward us, their guns blazing at the building. Then I understood. Jerome’s forces had gone along with him till they discovered what he really had in mind — till the Russians told them. Now they were revolting. The common soldiers were for Fleming. The officers who had secretly wanted him were outside with the boys. The men who opted for the Cubans and the handful of Russian “advisers” sent to help Jerome were bottled up in the fort, shooting through the broken door.
The mob surrounded the hill now. A mob knows no fear. Yelling, knives waving, it moved on in a wave. Many fell under fire. But many more reached the walls, climbed up the vines and through windows to the upper floor. The shooting from the doorway stopped. The guns in there had turned to face the attack within. The native army rushed the entrance. In half an hour the shooting was over. The horde that had gone in through the windows flowed out through the door. There were no Cubans or native officers with them.
The uniformed ranks outside moved into formation and marched down to where Fleming had halted. They saluted and offered their allegiance. President Fleming was home to stay.
Sixteen
There wasn’t a plane on the airfield that could fly. In the harbor only one fair sized boat floated. The foreign pilots were rounded up, the remnants of the invading people dug out of hiding, all put aboard and sent off.
Under Fleming’s efficient, swift command an organized cleanup was begun. Noah’s tribe went home. General Hammond’s family invited Fleming to occupy the Palace with them until the airfield could be cleared to receive traffic, when they would leave the island. Mitzy sent a runner with a note. Would I ask Davey Hawk to tell Miami where she was and that she’d sit on the nest egg until she had orders.
“Tara Sawyer was given a funeral with all the stops out,” she wrote. “She lies on a slab down in the catacombs.”
I stayed a week to give Fleming what hand I could and be sure the calm would last. He didn’t need my help. It was a vacation. Without a girl to my name.
When I got back to Washington, Sawyer was in the office, raising hell with Hawk about his daughter’s death, demanding to bury her at home. I hadn’t briefed the old man by phone about Tara. Now Hawk let me handle the problem. I tried to ease Sawyer’s pain by building up his daughter’s part in saving Fleming’s life, praising her, repeating the full gratitude of the natives. Sawyer gradually quited down, some of the sorrow turning to pride.
I didn’t say anything about Mitzy. Why start a war between him and the Mafia? Besides, if the girl could cream something off the top, I thought she had a right to keep it. Thomas Sawyer could finance the rebuilding out of profits from his entire chain, and maybe Mitzy could retire from the Brotherhood.
I told both of them about Noah. Hawk gave me a fish stare but Sawyer was delighted at the old man’s exploits.