I didn't go out, but I didn't bother to notice much of what was happening until I was seated in Ned's suite at the Americana witha tauglass of Scotch in my hand. Seven in the morning is a little early for the first drink of the day usually, but usually I don't seem to have toothache in every tooth I own and several sets borrowed for the purpose. The gun barrel had clipped me just on the left jawbone.
Ned was on the telephone; Luiz was standing by the window staring out over what he could see of the city. The guard was just inside the door, still with his sub-machine gun.
Ned put down the phone and said: 'A short delay before we meet the General. Better think up something good.'
Luiz turned round. 'Ah, we are to meet the newpresidente?'
'I came in to report to him personally. It's nice to have you two on the credit side of the sheet.'
'Tell me something, Ned,' I said out of the corner of my mouth, just like any amateur George Raft down in the casino, 'was that the usual road from the base?'
He looked at me. 'No. You were just lucky to meet me. Your pal Jiminez started shooting up our people on the normal road just before first light. That's what I was taking off so early for: clear the road-block. And why I had to come into town on the coast road.'
Luiz sighed. 'Just lucky. I understand.'
'How many did we get, Ned?'
He looked at me hard for a while before answering. 'All bloody ten,' he said slowly. 'Three need engine changes. Three, maybe four, are complete write-offs – that includes mine.'
'Glad it didn't include you,' I said politely.
'Yeh – I noticed how bloody careful you were. Just tried to chop me up with the prop.' He shook his head disbelievingly. 'I never thought I'd see a man like you take a risk like that, Keith.'
Luiz murmured: 'I also found it somewhat surprising.'
Ned came over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Swan beer. 'It don't look like I'm going to be flying today, so…' He started pouring. 'Bricks. Bleedingbricks. You should've been in jail, Keith. I knew you'd be coming back, but I knew you hadn't got any bombs. Them bricks was all your own idea.'
He turned away, then back again, and said quietly: 'In case it interests you, I was just off the ground when you hit me. So you can count me. That makes five, don't it? You're finally an ace, Keith. But round here, aces count low. Bosco'll tell you just how low.'
I shrugged. 'It's over now, anyway.' I glanced as casually as I could at the guard by the door. He was propping up a wall, the sub-machine gun still in his hands, but gazing at the carpet with an expression left over from the Stone Age. If he understood English, I was going to lose an expensive bet, but I was prepared to have a side bet that understanding wasn't something he specialised in anyway.
I said: 'So where's the Dove, Ned? Still at the airport or over at your base?'
He stared at me. 'What the hell are you worrying aboutthat for?'
'You've got a car downstairs; we could be airborne in half an hour. I'll give you a free ride to Kingston or PR – whichever you like. What d'you say?'
There was a crackle of gunfire from the old town, a couple of miles away. The snap of a grenade, the buzz of a machine gun. It lifted quickly to a crescendo, then died away.
Ned was still staring, now incredulously. Then he said slowly: 'You really think because we was once Dear Old Pals, that-'
'You need a pal right now, Ned.'
'I need one? What about yourself?'
'Oh, I've got friends in this town.' I waved at the window. 'They're not too close just yet, but they're there. What about you?'
'What about me?'
'Suppose Castillo and the Army come back in: they'll cut your throat because you're Bosco's right-hand man. Right? Or suppose Jiminez takes over: he'll cut your throat, too, except with the personal touch because you've actually been shooting at his people. Right? So that leaves Bosco.'
Tvegot news for you, Keith: I'm already on Bosco's side.'
'That might be news to Bosco, too. He had just one weapon, Ned, one: the Vamps. Andyou lost them for him, every damn one. You've probably lost him the revolt. I wonder if Boscoisyour pal any more.'
Luiz had turned away from the window. Now he nodded with grave approval.
Ned said softly: 'I wish I'd killed you, Keith. I wish I'd got her up.'
'It wouldn't have made any odds by then. You weren't hired as just a pilot, Ned: you were thecoronel, the boss, the thou-sand-a-week man. You were incommand-and by then you'd lost nine-tenths of your command. Because you left 'em neatly lined up for me to hit them on one run.'
'Hell, I didn't think you'd be comingtoday: we didn't think Jiminez was ready. And we'd sent a couple of-' Then he stopped.
I nodded. 'I know: I met them. I was sleeping in the plane that night. But don't make your excuses to me, chum, make ' em to Bosco. He'd hiredyou to do the thinking about those Vamps.'
After a while he said again: 'I still wish I'd killed you, Keith. Just personal reasons.'
One of the phones buzzed.
Ned walked across, studied them, and said: 'That's Bosco. Here we go.' He picked up the green one, listened, said: 'Yes,' several times, put it down and turned round. 'On your feet, boys. Sorry there hasn't been time for a hearty breakfast.'
We filed out, Ned leading, the airman with the sub-machine gun bringing up the rear. We went along the soft-lit, thick-carpeted corridor, up a wide staircase, and out in front of the double doors of the pent-house suite – with a double armed guard outside.
Ned knocked on the door, opened it, and we marched in.
It was a wide room – and dark, except for pools of light-around a jumble of radio and telephone equipment in one corner and a big desk in the centre. Then I saw the steel shutters over the windows on two sides; the General wasn't taking any chances with stray snipers.
There were two men at the radio, three at the desk. Boscowas behind it, an officer with a telephone at each end. One of them was Capitán Miranda.
Boscosaid: 'Make your report, Coronel.'
Ned took a breath and started. All aircraft had been serviceable, fuelled, and armed, by four o'clock. At five he'd got a call to clear an ambush on the road, started taxiing a couple of minutes later. He hadn't seen me make my scouting pass, hadn't heard me because of his own engine noise. The tower had warned him by radio in time to watch my bomb run…
Boscolistened silently, his meaty near-handsome face expressionless. He was dressed very simply: khaki drill trousers and a shaped shirt of the sort American sergeants go for, fitting as tight as a tee-shirt; black tie tucked in below the second shirt button, webbing belt and holster. But all very clean and crisp; knifeedged creases on the shirt arms, medal ribbons in exact parade rows. The perfect soldier: tough but tidy, efficient but elegant. Just what you'd want your new dictator to be.
I almost felt sorry I'd wrecked the background to the picture.
Ned wound up: he'd spent an hour examining the Vamps, giving orders about repair. They were working flat out on the two least damaged, cannibalising parts from the total wrecks -but both had brick holes in fuselage and wings, which had to be patched, not replaced. One might fly tomorrow evening. Might.
Boscoswivelled his eyes at me. 'Nowyour report, Señor Carr.'
I shrugged, but there didn't seem to be any secrets to be kept. I'd dropped around 360 bricks from four fishing nets, attached to shackles…
When I'd finished, he said: 'It was Señor Whitmore'sairplane?'
I shook my head. 'Mine. I'd taken it as payment for the film work, and because he felt a little guilty about my losing the Dove. You remember that?'
Just a quick flick of a smile under the neat moustache. 'I remember. Also I remember telling you to stay away from the República.'Then he shrugged…'I am sorry you did not accept our offer to work for us: you were clearly not overrated. Now-'
He looked back at Ned. 'Coronel, you are reduced toteniente. Capitán Miranda will take command of what you have left of the squadron. You will go back and work on the aeroplanes and if the Capitánneeds you, you will fly one of them when it is ready.'
Even in the dim edge of the desk pool of light, Ned seemed pale. 'I was hired at a rate and a rank. I quit.'
'You are in a military service, Teniente,'Boscosaid calmly. 'One does not resign in a war. When it is over, we will consider.'
I glanced at Miranda. He was leaning back in his chair, looking at Ned with a satisfied, thoughtful smile.
Boscohad been studying Luiz and me carefully. Finally he said: 'I think you forgot something in your report, Señor. Clearly, you had decided when your mission was finished that you would land and enter the city to discover its results. Therefore, you are spies. You will be shot.'
I hadn't exactly expectednot to be shot, but I didn't understand this 'spy' business. 'If you think Iintended to hang around here afterwards-'
'Señor?'He smiled. 'So why are you wearing those clothes? I believe one flies a military operation in military uniform -no? You make things easier for me.' He turned to the officer. 'Make sure photographs are taken – to prove they were in civilian clothes.'
'Presidente,' Luizsaid quietly, 'may I be permitted to point out your mistake?'
That you are Luiz Monterrey, the great famous film star, the American citizen? No-' he tossed the thought aside with an elegant flick of his hand. 'Since we met last time, I havehad you investigated. I know now why you are so interested in Señor Jiminez – I know you were born here. That is not something you have much publicised; your American newspapermen will be as much interested in that as that you are dead. And thenorteamericanosall know we… dagoes are fanatics about our homelands. They will understand.' And when he smiled this time, it was like the slow opening of a knife cut.
'No,Presidente'- Luiz waved a hand just as elegant -1 just wish to point out that publicising our fate – and there are those in Jamaica who will know we have not returned, so the publicity is not entirely in your hands – will mean publicising our success. Did youplan to announce that General Bosco's teeth have all been pulled?'
There was a long time with just the hum and distant gabble from the bank of radio equipment in the corner. A phone buzzed; Miranda picked it up, listened, put it down again.
Then the General said: 'Jiminez must know already.'
Luiz made the slightest of slight bows. 'I think so. He knew we were coming, he knows there have been no jets overhead today, and it has been light enough for' – he consulted his watch – 'for two hours now.'
'So?'Boscosnapped.
'But General Castillo -he does not know his tanks and guns are in no danger; he does not know the Army could walk into the city as soon as it could get here. Not yet, anyway.'
After a moment, Boscolifted both hands in a brief shrug. 'And so? How do you propose to tell Castillo? Or stop him knowing?'
'I know nothing of Castillo – except that he will be trying very hard to find what is happening in the city. If an execution happens, can you be sure he will not know?'
Boscoeyed him, then smiled thinly. 'I could arrange a mostquiet execution.'
'Señor Presidente,' Luizshook his bfad sadly and patiently as if Boscowere a particularly dim pupil, 'to execute me as a spy is one affair. Murder me quietly in an hotel bedroom and whatnorteamericanoreporter is even going toask if I were guilty of anything?'
Boscoglared silently. Then one of the men at the radiocalled something and turned the radio full blast. We caught a roar of tape-recorded trumpets, a click, an amateurish heavy breath – and a sonorous shout:'
'Viva el liberador-Jiminez!'
Miranda and Boscowere both shouting. The radio got turned down hastily. Luiz said softly, 'He has captured the radio station, finally.'
Miranda and the other officer snatched up phones and started yelling. Boscojust looked at me. 'With the jets, we would have held it.' Then he cocked an ear to the muttering radio. 'Jiminez will speak in five minutes.'
I felt Luiz stiffen beside me. It needed just one sentence from Jiminez; if he couldn't resist announcing that the Air Force was crippled, if he forgot it would be an open invitation to the listening Army to walk back in…
Boscosaid drily: 'It would seem your lives are not in my hands any more, Señores.'He started raiding out orders to Miranda and the other officer; both grabbed their phones and passed them on. Then Boscoseemed to think of something else, called a question to the man at the switchboard and lifted his own phone. 'It seems the line to the radio station is not yet cut.' He held the phone out to Luiz. 'Perhaps you would care to discuss with your old friend.'
Luiz reached for it, reluctantly…'! will remind him that it is – damaging to his cause. That is all. And he will decide.'
'Of course. I shall not blame you; I shall only shoot you.'
Luiz smiled crookedly and put the phone to his face. 'Señor Jiminez, con permiso… qué?… Ah, sf -he looked at Boscoand twitched a quick grin -'Presidente Jiminez… Luiz Monterrey…'
Miranda was starting to say something, but Boscowaved him down. Then Luiz must have got to Jiminez, because his Spanish went into top gear and I was left behind. I just picked out the word'Americana'.
Finally he handed the phone back to Bosco, and turned to me. 'It will not be mentioned – this time. Later, or if he hears we are dead…' he shrugged.
Boscosaid: 'You told him where you are. Did you hope he would lead a gallant rescue party? I much hope so myself.' He banged both hands flat on the desk. 'So – we wait. I am sorrywe cannot offer you rooms in the Hall of Justice, but your friends blew down one of its walls in order to do some recruiting there.'
Luiz nodded approvingly: busting into the town jail to free your pals would be the proper opening gambit of any revolution.
Boscolooked around and saw Ned, still standing there,Ïsilent and sullen.'Temente- take them to your room and I guard them properly.' I Ned said: 'Thought I was supposed to be repairing Vamps.' 'That can wait. You may-' Miranda leaned across and said somediing quietly. Boscolistened, nodded, looked up at -me.'Capitán Miranda reminds me of an unfinishedconversation the last time you met.' [I knew what was coming, now. Miranda stood up, quick and smooth, and stalked around the desk, his eyes on my face.
There was nothing to do but wait for him..
He stopped in front of me, studying me with a small, ihungry smile. Then suddenly his left shoulder dropped as fora ¡stomach punch; as my hands came up to guard it, he lashed\ out with his right. I rolled with it, but not enough, not nearly enough. He'd aimed at my bruised jaw and I went down withÌpain screaming through my head.
As I climbed slowly on to my feet, Boscosaid calmly:'That is all. You may go.' I dabbed an already bloody handkerchief at the fresh blood on my lips. 'General,' I said thickly, 'don't ever wonder why people like me turn up on the other side to people like you.'
He watched us file out with a still, calm, expression.