The Kremlin File

Fifteen

We were eating a glum supper of Noah’s rations when the unflappable old giant raised his head, listening. I heard it then — the sound of jubilant voices shouting outside. Noah beat me to the stairs by two jumps. He was halfway across the parade when I went through the upper door.

The tribe was back. Noah threw the gate wide, and they streamed in. The tall man translated as the story was told. They had hidden in caves across the island till the hurricane subsided. Then they heard the drums from Port of Spain — the capital was wrecked, the army in disarray. And Jerome was dead!

They were dismayed at the condition of the fortress, but they could make repairs now that they were safe. As they settled in for a night of celebration, Mitzy and I settled in for the night too.

I would have to wait for morning to find proof that my mission was accomplished. I had to see the colonel’s body with my own eyes, take fingerprints for AXE. The tribe had heard his body was still in the Sawyer Hotel, so that was where I’d have to go as soon as I could figure a way to get there. If the truck was in working condition, I might be able to drive. I’d take a machete crew along to clear a path. It would be faster than hiking — if the truck hadn’t gone the way of the boats and planes.

Sometime after midnight we finally got to sleep.

In the morning I decided against calling Hawk for help. I don’t like to give up on an assignment. Hawk said it was imperative for me to go it alone, and there was still a chance I could put Fleming into office by myself.

The doctor was all for hopping on his white charger and rushing to the rescue of the battered island. But Noah prevailed again. Jungle drums were all well in their way, but he hadn’t yet heard any hard news on the radio. Of course, he didn’t mention that. He just delegated a group of sturdy young men to clear the road, and we trooped over to the truck.

It looked all right, sitting under an arch of half-toppled trees. I put the rotor in, cleaned the water out of the carburator, pumped in new gas, and got out from under the hood. Mitzy Gardner was in the front seat, spreading leaves over the soggy upholstery, her machine gun resting on the dashboard.

I didn’t argue. She had earned the right to sit in at the finish. The whole tribe pitched in and hauled debris out of the ruts. They cleared the way to the shore road and a mile beyond. We were on our own, with only the crew in the truck to help us. It could have been worse. The trees that blocked the highway were small and easy enough to move. The road had been washed out where it ran close to the sea. But the crew used fallen branches to fill in the depressions. Then I shoved the gear into low as they heaved against the tailgate, and we wallowed on through.

The day was bright, the sky an innocent blue, and the sea calm. But the beaches were like graveyards of little boats, and the pretty ranch houses had been destroyed. Walls were down; roofs lay tom and twisted many yards away; and furniture littered lawns. The first building we passed at close range, the old Poinciana resort, was nothing more than a collapsed heap of timber. Noah’s boys dropped off there to root in the wreckage. Beyond it, the native village was a mess — empty-eyed people wandered around, picking up a scrap of something, dropping it, then going to another.

The ancient fort on the hill, which had weathered many other blows over the last couple of hundred years, had survived this one.

Government Plaza was in fairly good shape, but the glass was gone from the windows and the grounds were covered with fallen trees and litter. The soldiers in the area were unarmed and dazed, moving around like zombies in a feeble effort to clean up the grounds. There were other soldiers in the business section, working under junior officers. They glanced at us as we rolled by but made no move to stop us. With their colonel gone, they were in limbo, without authority to send down orders.

At the Sawyer Grand LaClare all the landscaping was uprooted, large trees strewn around like so many twigs. The late afternoon sun glittered red on the piles of splintered glass that surrounded the building. Beyond it, the oily harbor was nearly empty. Only a few small boats floated, hull up, on the long, smooth swells. The water was an ugly, dirty color, heavy with sand. A boom off some wreckage drifted up against the shore, and more rigging fouled the white beach. There were no guards anywhere around.

I pulled up in front of the main entrance, and we got down with our guns. Jerome, I assumed, would be laid out in state in the lobby or casino, with an honor guard watching over him. I would have to get rid of them. But I was wrong. Our feet crunched across the broken glass, and we walked right on in without being stopped.

The lobby was empty, and so was the casino. The entire hotel was a shambles.

“Chip’s office maybe?” Mitzy suggested.

We went that way. The black hall attendant was not behind the cashier’s desk. To my surprise the electric lock worked, and we went through to the hall. There wasn’t a soul in sight. The button controlling Capolla’s door opened it. Jerome was not laid out there, either, but the money he had looted was. I heard a deep sigh of relief beside me. When I looked at Mitzy her red tongue was slowly circling her lips.

“The Miami boys will be glad to know this, at least,” she said. “I expect Sawyer will reopen.”

“But where is Jerome’s body?” I wondered aloud. Mitzy thought it might have been taken to Capolla’s penthouse.

“You go find out, Nick. I’d better hang around in here. This town is going to begin coming to sometime soon, and I wouldn’t want this bundle to disappear now.”

“I don’t like to leave you alone,” I told her. “There could be a mob.”

Her lips curled. “The door locks from the inside, and it can’t be opened from the hall. This place is a vault. You know how to use the remote control on the elevator?”

I did. I had watched when we first used it. She closed and locked the sliding panel after me, and I hit the button, got into the cage, and tapped the “up” switch. The elevator started to climb. I didn’t even feel the car stop. But the door opened silently, and I stepped out onto the deep carpet.

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.