He felt a momentary pang for Antonia. Like any woman, she had been vain about her beauty.
She had been the kind of woman who made heads turn, even among the brotherhood.
No one would ever call her beautiful again.
Marxist doctrine taught that torture was undignified both for the questioner, as well as the victim and that it should be done only as a last resort against the most unrepentant enemies of the people.
But Libertad had to admit that he enjoyed it, and that every scream reinforced his own sense of power and strength. The more helpless the victim, the more savage the punishment, the greater the terror and pain, the more pleasure he felt.
Antonia had given him immense satisfaction.
He wondered if he had finally found his true calling.
Libertad was ushered in immediately to see the council.
He had the impression that none of them ever moved, since each time he had made a progress report, they were seated exactly as he had left them the time before.
"Report," the chairman commanded.
"Comrade, she has broken completely. She has already confessed that the ambush was set up to prevent the American, Blanski, from informing us that she had murdered her employer, Carrillo. We have now learned the motive behind the murder." Libertad paused theatrically, waiting to be prompted. Instead the councillors simply stared at him. "She has stated that she has been in contact with a high government official General Arturo Palma, chief commander of the Peruvian Military Police!"
The council members exchanged puzzled glances.
It was known that Palma was an avowed enemy of the Shining Path. If Antonia had been passing secrets to him, why was this base still in operation?
"Has she explained why?" the chairman inquired.
"She claims that Palma's goals are the same as the Shining Path's in the short run. He wishes to destabilise the state so that he can seize power with a military coup. Only then will the General hunt us down. For now, he is content to aid our struggle through access to armaments and information."
"And how much has she told him about our operations? How much has she revealed?" Libertad shrugged.
"Nothing, she says. Supposedly the general was not interested in pumping her for information, since he had no intention of aiding his colleagues in smashing the movement."
"She was questioned thoroughly?" another member asked.
"Yes. Very thoroughly." Libertad smiled to himself at the memories.
"Question her some more," the chairman decided. "Do not hurry, but make sure that you learn everything there is to know. And if she is still alive when you are finished, then kill her. Slowly. The Shining Path has no room for traitors."
Libertad hurried away, anxious to obey.
When the sun had finally dipped below the hills, and the last traces of red were fading from the sky, Bolan began to move out. He crept cautiously down the back of the Inca pyramid, using hands and feet to keep from sliding down the slippery incline. He intended to start the action shortly after sunset, during the early evening hours when the guards would be relaxed.
The warrior edged through the low underbrush that covered the ruined city, not pausing to look at any of the ancient stones covered with images of gods and demons that poked from among the weeds. It was eerie knowing that he was probably the first North American to walk through these forgotten monuments.
Bolan chose an observation post in a ravaged home at the edge of the desolate city. There seemed to be activity at only one cave entrance.
Possibly all the others were sealed. From here he could clearly see the guards talking and smoking on the cavern ledges. Each carried a rifle or machine gun, which made them the initial targets for the Executioner.
As an uninvited guest, he didn't want to join the party empty-handed.
He began his stalk when the sun was down, and the stars shone overhead. The thin mountain air made them glow with a brightness he had never seen in the grimy urban battlegrounds he often frequented. A chorus of soft animal sounds echoed all around him as he brushed stealthily through the tall grass covering the valley floor.
Soon he lay near the mouth of the cave guarded by the terrorists. No light filtered from the cavern.
Although the Shining Path had taken some precautions against discovery, the two guards weren't expecting any trouble. They chatted away noisily, undoubtedly bored with a routine assignment often repeated. Bolan suspected it was a rare occurrence for anyone to wander into the valley, given the size of the cliffs surrounding it.
The warrior crawled undetected to within twenty feet of the two men. With a knife as his only weapon, Bolan decided to wait for a break. At some point, one of the guards would make a mistake, perhaps fall asleep, and then the Executioner would strike. He was in no hurry, since he wasn't following a timetable and had no specific plan of action once he got inside. He just planned to make things happen and cause maximum damage before he got the hell out of there.
Bolan had to wait a long time before he got his chance. A half moon had climbed a handbreadth above a craggy pinnacle. A large army of small but hungry insects had discovered Bolan as he crouched in the grass, and he tried to ignore their stinging bites as he concentrated on the guards.
One of them finally left, heading back inside.
The door had barely closed before Bolan rose and drew back his knife. The blade flew straight and true at the man outlined in the moonlight, stabbing directly through the base of the throat.
The terrorist dropped, his hands clutching at the knife hilt flush against his skin. His death throes gradually subsided until he lay still.
Bolan sprinted to the cave mouth, ripping the AK-47 from the dead guard's hands.
The warrior froze by the door, listening for sounds of activity beyond. The other guard would eventually return and if he came back to find his partner dead, the alarm would be given instantly. It would be better to hang tough for a while and eliminate this particular nest of vipers. Not only would he buy himself some time, but he would clear an escape route behind him.
The waiting paid off. The second terrorist barreled through the door, shouting something incomprehensible to his watch mate.
The words forewarned Bolan of the guy's arrival.
As the hardman stepped through the doorframe, Bolan rocketed the butt of the assault rifle head high, connecting on the man's jaw. The newcomer dropped backward through the doorway, and the Executioner stepped after the falling body. One hard slam with the rifle finished the job, cracking the skull like a soft-shelled crab.
He dragged the corpse into the brush and returned for the other body. When it, too, was concealed Bolan took the time to scuff away the signs of the struggle.
It might only buy him a few seconds of grace, but in combat seconds were more precious than jewels.
The Executioner slung the AK over his shoulder and grabbed the Uzi the other guy had toted, stuffing extra clips in his pockets. Then he eased the door back, his finger on the trigger of the Uzi.
Libertad left the interrogation chamber in search of fresh amusement. Antonia was beginning to wane as an attraction, remaining unconscious for longer periods of time. She wasn't responding to the questioning as well, either, seeming to be in a state of shock most of the time that protected her from realizing what was being done to her.
He was afraid that the red-haired traitor was going to die on him. But it was much too soon for that.
She had not yet come close to paying for the fear he had felt when crouched in the dark tunnel with bullets whining all around him.
The coldhearted sadist had many more vicious experiments in mind.