White Cargo

30

Cat sat numbly through an afternoon of instruction in how to set up a cocaine sales network in his franchised area. He had been in this place for nearly twenty-four hours, and he was getting nowhere. Granted, he knew where Jinx lived, but it had turned out to be possibly the most secure area of the entire camp — in fact, almost the only secure area. Everything else, except the factory, was easy enough to see, and no one questioned where he went. Prince and his people seemed to think themselves invulnerable because of their remote location, and since they had screened everyone who was here, they were arrogant enough not to be suspicious of anyone.

The meeting broke up, and he went back to the cottage. Meg was not there, still in a meeting of her own. The temperature outside was amazing, and the humidity worse. Cat got into a swimsuit and headed for the pool. There were half a dozen men scattered at tables, sipping drinks, and Dell was among them. It was the first time Cat had seen him since the evening before. Cat swam a couple of laps, then sat on the edge of the pool and waited. Soon, Dell came over and sat beside him.

“I tried to talk to Jinx last night,” he said. “She pretended not to recognize me, to not even understand me.”

“I know, I’m having the same problem,” Cat replied. “I don’t know if she’s pretending, or what.”

“What do you mean?”

“She may be off her head. It may be that what she has been through has been so horrible that she’s just blocked it out.”

Dell clenched his jaw and said nothing for a moment. “Were you serious last night?” he asked finally. “About the raid and getting Jinx out?”

“Yes, perfectly.”

“All right, I’ll stay out of your way.”

“What about your million bucks?” Cat asked.

“I’ve been thinking about that. I think I can get it back when the raid starts. Maybe even more.”

“Dell, you’re crazy to try that. It’s going to be tough enough just keeping from getting shot by the troops without trying something stupid.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what’s stupid,” Dell said through clenched teeth. “I can take care of myself.”

“Whatever you say,” Cat replied. He had to try not to have any more confrontations with Dell. “Just remember to hide someplace until the shooting is over, then give yourself up. Tell them who you are and that you were here to help me. If I don’t make it out of the raid, ask for a guy named Barry Hedger. He’s an important person in the Bogotá embassy.”

“When is it going to happen?”

“I’m not sure, but if you hear helicopters, it’s on.”

“Right.” Dell made to get up, but Cat held him back.

“Listen, when this is over, if we get out of here alive, I want us to talk, to try and find some middle ground between us.”

For a moment Dell looked uncertain, vulnerable. Then he got up and walked away.

Cat went back to the cottage and found Meg stretched out on a bed fanning herself. “What’s up?” she asked.

He sat down on the bed beside her. “We’re getting nowhere fast here,” he said.

She sat up on an elbow. “What do you mean? I thought we were doing okay. We’ve found Jinx, we know where she lives, and I’ve got some great videotape,” she said, patting her big handbag containing the miniature camera, which rested on the bed beside her. “I got all of that conversation with Prince during our tennis breakfast this morning. It’s going to be incredible on the air. All I want now is some shots of the helicopters coming in.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean we had got nowhere; I meant there was nowhere else to go. We’re not going to be able to spirit Jinx out of Prince’s quarters. I think we’re going to have to take more direct action.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s time to switch on that radio and call the troops in. Tomorrow at dawn, I’ll go jogging. I’ll run down to where they’re building the airstrip and set up the radio there. Then we have to position ourselves near the main house. When we hear the first chopper, we run upstairs to Prince’s quarters and lock ourselves in with Prince and Jinx until the shooting is over. What do you think?”

“His quarters will be guarded.”

“We’ll shoot our way in, if necessary, but I’m depending on you to talk us in.”

“Well,” she said, “I guess I’d have a pretty good view of things from Prince’s windows, wouldn’t I?”

He grinned. “I guess you would.” He leaned over and kissed her. She pulled him down onto the bed and nestled her head on his shoulder. Soon, she was asleep. It was just as well, he thought. He had been about to tell her about the other thing he was going to do tonight, but perhaps it was better if she didn’t know.

Cat dressed for dinner, and while Meg was in the bathroom, he removed the false bottom from the canvas-and-leather grip and took out the H&K automatic pistol. He slipped into the shoulder holster, screwed the silencer into the barrel, and tried to fit the gun into the holster. It wouldn’t fit with the silencer on. He unscrewed the silencer and put it into his trousers pocket, then slipped the pistol into the holster.

There were no place cards at dinner that evening. Cat and Meg took seats near the door, at the opposite end of the table from Prince and Jinx. The dinner was somewhat more convivial than the evening before. People were getting to know each other. Cat found himself sitting next to the Englishman he had seen wearing the heavy suit the evening before. He was more comfortably dressed now.

The Englishman introduced himself. “Where are you from, old boy?” he drawled.

“Southeastern United States,” Cat replied.

“I’m a Londoner, myself,” he said. He had had a lot to drink. “I live in Berkshire at the moment, but I expect I’ll be taking a place in town again before long.” He winked broadly. “Once the stuff starts to come in, you know. Property’s awfully good value in London these days. I’m thinking of Eaton Square.”

“Nice neighborhood,” Cat said.

“The bloody Duke of Westminster owns the whole fucking thing, you know.”

“I’d heard.”

“We were in the army together.”

“Were you?”

“Yes, indeed. Not what you’d call close, but still, I expect he’d be glad to have me in Eaton Square. The old regiment, and all that.”

“It helps to have connections, I guess.”

The Englishman winked again. “You had one of these girls yet?”

“No.”

“Bloody marvelous they are. Had one last night, an American.”

Cat stiffened.

“The Anaconda must treat them bloody well. She was damned enthusiastic.”

Cat said nothing.

“I understand there’s a little show at the disco tonight. You going?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Oh, you must, old fellow. Everyone’ll be there. Bloody good show, they say.” He winked again, but then his eyes did something odd.

Cat turned and followed his gaze. The dining-room doors had opened, and an Indian dressed in a plain khaki uniform, carrying an automatic weapon, stood in the doorway. There was a girl with him. He was holding her by the hair.

“Good God!” the Englishman spat. “She’s mine! I mean, the one I had last night!”

The girl was trembling violently and crying. There was a dust of white powder on her nose and upper lip. The room had gone very quiet.

From the other end of the room, Cat heard a chair scrape on the floor and footsteps walking the length of the table. Still, he could not take his eyes off the terrified girl. Prince walked into his vision, toward the girl. He moved calmly, deliberately. He approached the girl and stopped. The soldier said something Cat couldn’t catch. Prince reached down to the holster on the soldier’s belt, unsnapped it, and removed a .38-caliber pistol from it. The soldier yanked backward on the girl’s hair, and when she began to cry out, Prince put the barrel of the pistol into her mouth and fired. A long spray of blood and gore spurted from the back of her head, and she went limp. Prince handed the pistol to the guard, then turned to face his audience.

“I’m terribly sorry to have interrupted your dinner, ladies and gentlemen, but my rule against the use of drugs has been violated, and it was necessary for me to take steps. Please go on with your meal.” He motioned to a waiter, who produced a napkin and began mopping up the blood. The guard dragged the girl from the room by her hair. Prince returned to his seat.

Cat sat, frozen. Meg picked up a glass of water and sipped it. Her face was pale. The Englishman made an odd noise, then got up and stumbled from the room, a napkin pressed to his mouth. A murmur rose from the crowd again, this time subdued. Cat looked down the table to where Jinx was. She sat, staring vacantly ahead, her lower lip trembling.

Cat wished to God he did not have to wait until morning to confront the Anaconda. If he had had any doubts before about what he would do to him, he had none now.