"The boys. What's happened to them?" "I don't know. I'm sure they're all right. We went different ways. Let me in and I'll tell you what happened." I told her. Slowly and accurately over large sips of wellaged ron. She sat in cold silence as I talked. Not moving or speaking until I had finished. Then she nodded.
"Racked with guilt, aren't you? It oozes out of your pores like perspiration." "I am! My fault. I did it, got them into it..." "Shut up," she suggested, then leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. "We're all adults and we go into these things with our eyes open. Not only didn't you lead them to destruction, you put yourself in the enemies' gunsights to give them a chance to get away. You did all that you could. Now all we can do is wait. After I natch un that renulsivelv bloody nose of yours. I was putting off taking care of it until you had enough ron inside of you." I said ouch a few times while she cleaned and bandaged my nose. Then the waiting began. Angelina, who rarely drank other than on social occasions, accepted a glass of ron and sipped at it. There was no conversation. We looked up every time a siren went by in the street outside. And tried not to stare at the clock all of the time. I emptied my glass and reached for the bottle.
"Would you like some more..." The buzzing of the phone cut through my words. Angelina was answering it before I could move, switching on the conference function as she lifted the receiver.
"James here," the welcome voice said, and a wave of relief rushed through me. "No problem getting away. Changed uniforms with a soldier. But I can't come back to the hotel looking like this." "We'll pick you up," Angelina said. "How is Bolivar?" When there was no instant answer the tension was back. Multiplied tenfold. He only hesitated for a moment, but that brief time was message enough.
"I think they have him. I saw police in gas masks driving off in a great hurry. They were the only ones who left the scene. I stayed around as long as I could, until the smoke cleared and they were starting to form the units up. He didn't call, did he?" "No. I would have told you." "I know. I'm sorry..." "You shouldn't be. You did everything that you could. Now we'll have to make plans to get you back here. Then we'll just have to wait for news of Bolivar. They won't have banned him. I'm sure that he's all right." Her voice was calm, controlled. Yet I was looking into her eyes when she spoke and I knew that she was screaming inside.
Chapter 23
I closed the ron bottle and put it away; this was the time for a clear head. However I did open a bottle of wine to wash down a fried bean and sausage sandwich since beans are a well known brain food. I think. Angelina went to pick up James while I stared at the telephone. And tried to produce intelligent thoughts about the night's events. By the time they had returned I had reached some highly logical and most unattractive conclusions.
"There were no phone calls," I said as they came through the door.
"If that's food I'll have some," James said, pouring himself a small glass of wine. I was happy that the twins took after their mother in their alcoholic interest, not after their boozer of a father.
"I've made some plans," I announced. "They will guarantee Bolivar's return." Angelina nodded agreement.
"Good. We break into the central jail, shoot down everyone we meet, then release him." "No. That's what they are expecting us to do. Someone on the enemy team is out-thinking us. We walked into a trap tonight because we were careless. We have been one jump ahead of them so far-and we thought that it would continue to go on like that. But the honeymoon is over. We now have to out-think their out-thinker and do the unexpected." "Which is what?" Angelina asked.
"Hit them where they don't expect us. Take a prisoner whom we know they will have to trade for Bolivar." "Who?" "Zapilote himself. No one else will do." James was so surprised that he actually stopped eating. Which meant he was very surprised indeed. Angelina had far.
more control.
"You wouldn't care to explain the tortuous logic that led to that conclusion?" she said.
"I'll be happy to. Somebody on their side has brains. It might very well be Colonel Oliveira. After all he was the one waiting in the car when we returned. Until we find out anything difierent we must assume that he is our enemy number one. He has been keeping careful track of our operation and has managed to put himself in our shoes. He knows that we must publicize our campaign if we are ever going to get the votes. Nothing of our first meeting with the press was reported, so logically we must then take steps to see that the future will be different. He had no idea of what we would do-but he guessed very accurately where we would strike. Broadcast Center. Then he laid a trap that worked-because he succeeded in capturing Bolivar, If he has been right so far he will still be right in assuming that an attempt will be made to free the prisoner. Therefore we can be sure that Bolivar will not be in the local prison. And we can also be sure that the building will be one big trap. We shall stay away from it. And change all the rules of the game. With Zapilote as a hostage Bolivar will have to be released and the score will be nil nil." "All right so far," Angelina said. "But have you given any thought about ways and means of getting our hands on Zapilote?" "I have. I am going to get a few hours sleep so I will be fresh for the morning. I will then make certain preparations before I pop over to the capital and look in on the GeneralPresident." "You're insane," Angelina said calmly. "I won't let you do it." She shifted position and a gun suddenly appeared in her hand aimed at me. "That blow on the nose must have addled your brains as well. Go get some sleep while James and I work out another plan that won't be quite as suicidal. " "You would shoot me to save my life? While not denigrating the process in any way, I am forced to admit that the operation of the female mind continues to baffle me. Now put the gun away and relax. It is not suicide I am planning but a well thought-out operation that will extricate both Bolivar and myself from their clutches. Some details are still vague, but I'm sure that they will be clearer after a night's rest. " They were. I woke up at dawn with a flow chart of the operation firmly printed on my frontal lobes. It could not fail!
The Stainless Steel Rat for President t29 My good humor continued through my shower and breakfast and the flight to Primoroso and right up to the moment when I was strolling across Freedom Square. It only left me when I entered the grim gates of the Presidio and was stopped by the guard. It was far too late to back out now so I hashed on, good humor or no.
"Where's your pass?" he growled.
"Pass? I need no pass, you microcephalic moron, I am here to see the General-President at the specific request of Colonel Oliveira." "I am sorry. The Colonel left no orders when he came in..." "Oliveira is here now? Better and better. Get him on the phone. And quickly-if you value your life and sanity." He was shaking as he punched a number into the phone. The plate lit up and I could see Olivelra's sadistic face on the screen. Before the guard could speak I pushed him aside and leaned close.
"Oliveira," I snarled. "I'm at the front entrance. Aren't you interested in seeing me?" He did a beautiful take; I should have brought a camera. He had undoubtedly expected a number of possible reactions to the events of the previous evening-but this one was certainly not included. He finally got his eyes back in his head and the blood back into his skin and screeched into the phone.