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I checked my wristwatch as I made a second turn and realized that I had been crawling in the vent for more than eighteen minutes. Exhausted and worried, I took another turn and a few yards on brought me to a sudden standstill. A lady was staring anxiously into my eyes as I peered through the mesh. I knew she couldn't see me, but the incident had held my heart from beating for a second or two. She was Slovan's girlfriend, and she looked so pale and more apprehensive than when the chief porter and I had unexpectedly walked in on her, and even a cigarette that smoldered in her tiny, beautiful fingers hadn't helped much.
After a few seconds, she looked away with a worried frown knitting her brow, not quite sure whether she had imagined or heard something. Poor thing, I wondered what would happen to her if Slovan was killed in the line of fire or taken hostage by Steve and the rest. I waited just long enough for her to shut the door as she entered the bathroom before I began to slide backward. She had kept me crouched in there for nearly twenty minutes, and even though terrible cramps in my legs nagged at me, I had to endure it since I knew if I made even the slightest move, she might notice and blow the whistle on me. If that was Slovan's room, then the porter's room must be along the next turn, I figured.
It took me only a few minutes to get to the mesh, which I presumed, let air into the porter's room. Though I had to exercise the same amount of caution as I moved, I had quickened my pace since I knew exactly where I was heading. The room was in total darkness, so I waited and listened for a few seconds, then scratched lightly on the mesh and waited again. There was no movement or sound in the room. I carefully took out my pen-size flashlight from my bag and snapped it on. With my heart pounding, I gradually brought the light downward, and then swung the bright beam round the room, and in spite of the air in the vent, I felt beads of cold sweat on my forehead.
There was no one in the room, but evidently it had been ransacked, perhaps to ascertain whether the chief porter had masterminded the operations. Working swiftly again, but cautiously too, I slit the mesh along three of its edges with a pair of wire-cutters, then pushed it outward so that it bent over its fourth edge. I knew it was going to be difficult going down, but I was more than determined to leave the vent. I swung and landed on the floor as quietly as I could, pulled out my gun, and waited on the spot for a few seconds, then tiptoed to the door. I turned the knob gently and found it was unlocked and the corridor was also empty. I shut and locked the door, then went into the bathroom to straighten up myself.
I left the bathroom for the room a few minutes later and found his white service smock and the identification tag in the closet. After satisfying myself that the smock fitted, I hung on the neck strap, pushed the plastic-cased ID into the breast pocket, and without further ado, I stepped out cautiously into the corridor. It was still empty as I headed for the staircase, and as I felt the butt of my gun beneath the smock, my confidence grew. I got to the landing of the first floor without sighting or hearing anything. It was unbelievably calm in spite of the chaotic situation in the main building, though the explosions and the nerve-racking noise had long ceased.
I became apprehensive and wondered if a snare hadn't already been sprung up ahead. However, I warned myself that I needed to steady my nerves so I could be in a firm state of mind to handle any situation that might arise along the way. I pulled out my gun, screwed on the silencer, and after a brief hesitation, I proceeded to the ground floor with extreme caution. My ears and eyes had never been more alert as the colonel's words echoed in my mind: "No one leaves the island alive or in his right frame of mind," he had said. "I will certainly break that jinx," I said to myself with a mirthless grin on my lips.
Before I got to the foot of the stairs, I saw the two guards by the big double doors that led out of the building and had quickly tucked away my gun. I didn't pause in my approach, and as I stepped down from the stairs, I strolled casually toward them. The boys could be any age between nineteen and twenty-three. One was lanky, and his short hair was the color of sable. His lean face, narrow eyes, lumpy nose, and almost lipless mouth gave him an unpleasant appearance, but there was this aura of cheerfulness about him that told you the kid had a good heart, and I wondered why in the world would he have accepted a job in such a hell of a place, but perhaps he was one of those that were cajoled into coming to the island. His companion was rudely stocky and looked brutish. He was short, thickset with a red, putty face, and a bull neck. He had close-cropped sandy hair with a deep scar just above his right ear. His eyes were slightly crossed, cruel, and restless, and were as animated as glass marbles. His nose was hooked, and his lips were loose and carried a jeering little grin. He was obviously the younger of the two kids, but his cold and sinister attitude had left the lanky boy under his control. Though they both wore the same ranks on their security uniforms, the sharp contrast between the two boys made them a ridiculous and tragic mismatch.
The tall boy lowered his rifle as I approached them, saluted, and shifted out of the way so I could get past. I gave him a bright smile and nodded to his companion whose brutish face had hardened and turned vicious, but I didn't let that slow down my stride as I reached for the knob on the doors. It was damn too easy to be real; I was thinking . . . until I turned the knob and found that the door was locked. For a brief moment, I felt a chill all over, as if ice-cold water had been thrown on me. However, I pulled myself together at once and turned to the lanky boy with the bright smile still on my face.
"Well, son, could you please open the door," I requested lightly.
"What the hell for?" the stocky boy snapped as he stood gawking at me while the lanky boy looked on in amazement.
"I need to get the hell out of this hole for some fresh air. The damn noise in the building is driving me nuts," I retorted, barely holding myself from hitting him.
"No one goes through these doors without clearance," he said hurriedly.
"Come on, Joshua, let the man go get some air if he wants to," the lanky boy ventured.
"Shut the fuck up," he snarled. "I said no one leaves the building without clearance, or are you deaf?" he added defiantly.
"All right then, I'll get him cleared," he volunteered, and in two or three quick strides, he reached the telephone hanging on the wall, about two yards from the doors. My heart skipped a beat, but that slip provided an opportunity I would never have anticipated as Joshua was momentarily distracted, obviously, by the unusual action of his colleague. I instantly pulled out my gun and clubbed his head with the butt. He fell forward and went sprawling to the ground. Before the lanky boy could drop the phone and level up his gun, I shot him twice in the leg. He fell down, wriggled in pain for a while, then lost consciousness. I ran over to feel his pulse and was glad that he was still alive. I hated to have shot him, but there was no other way I could have stopped him from shooting me first, considering the distance between the two of us. I snatched the keys off Joshua's belt and headed for the doors but stopped short as I thought it might start an early chase if someone found them lying there in the corridor. I found the first door on the right unlocked, dark, and possibly not in use, and then hauled the two boys in, one after the other.
Shortly afterward, I took off the smock and wiped off the drops of blood on the floor. I was dropping the two rifles and the bloodstained smock when a sudden stir further inside the room made me freeze instantly. I gently shut the door with the heel of my right foot as my gun jumped into my hand. I stood motionless for a while, then the stir came again, and I suddenly remembered that that was where we left the man who Charlie said was a senior security officer. I snapped on the light and there he was on the floor trying desperately to wriggle free. I was puzzled for a second because I didn't imagine he would still be there since Charlie had been found. Perhaps, I thought, shrugging my shoulder, it was typical of someone like him to be forgetful under the circumstances.
"Well, partner," I said, grinning wolfishly at him, "I have brought you some company so you won't have to worry about being lonely anymore," I stated and instantly left the room. Though I felt bad leaving the boy in there, there was nothing I could do but only hope that Joshua would come round soon enough or they would be found before he bled to death.
It took me less than a minute to reach and open the big doors and while outside, I looked from left to right and found no one in sight. It was incredible that there were no guards or dogs out there. The atmosphere was as calm as it was when we had arrived, and it would've been difficult for anyone to believe that so much had happened since then. However, I warned myself that I still had to be extremely on my guard. With intense nervous anticipation, I had to walk the most dreaded distance of my life to reach the shield of the hedges and quickly tuck away behind them as I got there. I stayed just long enough to catch my breath and to be certain that no one had seen me cross the lawn, and then began the cautious walk toward the front of the main building.
The time was 05.37, and the moon was playing hide-and-seek behind the clouds. Though the hedges and bushes provided enough cover, I knew the earlier I got the hell off the island, the better as dawn was fast approaching. It was remotely unbelievable that I had gotten that far without threatening difficulties or obstacles along the way, considering the reputation of the security on the island, and I couldn't help but wonder again if it was my luck or if they were playing a sort of game with me. Whatever it was, I thought, they'd certainly find out that I'm an unhealthy subject to mess with.
I eventually got to a spot where I had the front of the main building in good view. It was an absolute bedlam that I wondered why the annex had remained quiet. I looked farther to the right, toward the sea, and saw the boathouse. It was some ninety-five yards away and was deserted at that time of the morning. Without further hesitation, I headed toward it, and from a safe distance, I saw two guards watching the commotion at the front of the main building with rapt attention. I looked around and was satisfied that they were the only ones on duty. They were both as heavily built as they were armed, and I didn't kid myself that tackling them would be easy, but I would have to do it one way or the other if I was to leave the island before dawn.
Behind the men were two speedboats, a luxurious-looking yacht, and two Jet Skis swaying lightly on the waves as they were tied up on the quay. "It's not going to be easy getting away with either of the boats," I told myself, but the more difficult it seemed, the more stiffened my resolve became. I pulled out my gun, screwed on the silencer again, and with pounding heart but steady hands, I approached the unwary men cautiously.
"Drop your weapons," I ordered with a strident voice that I could scarcely believe was mine, as I placed the muzzle of the gun on one of the men's head. "I'm a damn good shot," I went on with a mirthless grin across my lips, "and I could take a finger off a man's hand even from fifty yards away."
The men looked extremely tough, so I was careful not to take chances. I had to make sure they lay down their rifles as slowly as was safe. I frisked the man whom I held my gun to his head and removed other weapons he had hidden on him while I still had the second man properly covered. I took off the handcuffs from his belt and before he knew it, I locked his left wrist in one of the rings and instantly snapped the other around the handrail of the stairs leading to the landing of the quay. I took a second or two to size up his companion and figured he had a build a heavyweight boxer might envy. To attempt the same on him would be like fooling with nitroglycerin, so I just shot him twice on the leg as I did to the lanky boy.
"Now you can see I wasn't kidding," I told the first man as we both watched him go down. "Any sound from you," I went on, "and I won't be so kind to shoot you on the legs. I will blow your brains out. Where are the keys?" I asked, nodding toward the quay, "and don't waste my time."
"In the villa," he returned tersely, with a hint of sarcasm.
"All right, never mind," I returned with a wave of my hand, watching him closely from the corner of my eyes and as his attention was distracted momentarily by new waves of incidents at the front of the main building, I hit him hard on the head with the butt of my gun. The shock vibration the blow left on my hand made me wonder if I hadn't broken his skull as he slumped with his hand hanging on the rail.
I instantly ran up the quay and untied one of the Jet Skis. It would be faster and easier to maneuver I had presumed and was glad to have taken interest in its operation two summers before last. I examined the ignition switch and smiled to myself. It was one of those easy ones. I reached down and pulled out the master key carefully concealed under the heel of my shoe. Without further hesitation, I adjusted the teeth to match and inserted it into the ignition. With nerve-racking anticipation, I turned the key, but the engine wouldn't start.
That was it, I thought as cold sweat began to run down my back, and my palms became clammy in spite of the cool breeze from the sea. It won't be funny at all to be caught up in a confrontation out there in the open. However, I turned the key once more, and the engine came alive with a sudden screech that sent my heart racing for a second or two. I revved up the engine, then instantly pushed the Jet Ski forward, mounted it, and off I went.
I had scarcely covered a hundred yards when I saw a speedboat flying on the sea from another direction. Though the Jet Ski was specially built, I had been fortunate to have used one quite often back home that I had no difficulty handling it. I engaged the last gear and fired the engine as the boat behind approached with incredible speed. Suddenly, I heard the crack of a gun and something that sounded like an angry hornet zipped past overhead. I stepped on the gas pedal and grinned to myself as I gained good distance. However, my joy soon came to an abrupt end as a sudden thrust sent the Jet Ski flying into the air. I fell off, while it somersaulted several times in the air before it hit the water some few yards away from me.
The Jet Ski was thrown into the air by a complicated contraption attached to a cable, which was hidden beneath the water. And I presumed the cable was originally intended to throw me off it, but had either misfired or hastily released. I swam toward the floating Jet Ski as soon as I regained my composure. The engine had ceased running, but I held on to it for support while I battered my head on what to do. After a minute or two, my pursuers arrived. They were four men; three of them held their submachine guns pointed at me, while the fourth man steered the boat. They cycled around slowly as if they hadn't made up their minds on what to do with me. Suddenly, the boat stopped. Though its engine was left running, it just drifted on the water.
One of the men gave me a warning shout as they narrowed the distance between us. And just then, a slight wave swept by and I casually ducked behind the overturned Jet Ski. That, no doubt, gave me the opportunity I had thought would not come. In a flash, I sprang up, and before they could start shooting, I flung my gun, with a hand grenade tied to it, over the drifting boat and ducked into the water at once. The blinding blast sent the four men crashing into the water as the grenade exploded in midair. The boat swayed forward, and I swam after it with all the strength that was left in me.
I couldn't tell if the men had fallen or dived into the water, but I was sure the explosion had caught them unawares as the grenade hit the gun. I swung into the boat and instantly got to the wheel. I engaged the gear and off I went again, leaving my would-be assailants to their fate. I looked back and saw the four men floundering to remain afloat and smiled triumphantly to myself. I hadn't battered my head for nothing; I had tied the grenade to the gun before they arrived and waited for the right time to set it off.
It shouldn't be difficult locating the place Steve had said his men would be waiting for me, if I eventually succeeded in leaving the island, as it was almost dawn, I thought as I increased the speed of the boat. He had said a red and black cloth would be tied to the top of one of the coconut palms that lined the beach, to indicate the area. However, I needn't search for the cloth, as the mainland became visible. I saw two lads under a coconut palm waving at me while two Jeeps approached the shore with frantic speed.
I stepped out of the boat as one of the lads quickly moored it to a post alongside the disused, rickety wooden quay. I could tell by the shadow under his eyes that they had been out there for a long time.
"It's good to have you safely back," the captain beamed, with the usual frown on his otherwise handsome face as he stepped down from one of the Jeeps.
"Thanks!" I replied.
"One of my men told us someone was coming fast to the mainland, and we could only guess who it was," he said still smiling, "and the colonel will be glad to see you," he added, but suddenly his excitement seemed to be quickly replaced with a worried expression and the furrows on his forehead became deeper.
"What's biting you? I hope Steve and the rest made it," I asked, suddenly alarmed.
"They made it all right, but your friend held him hostage and took him along with them."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"George did not only go with the diamonds, but also took Steve with him," he replied.
"What the hell did he have to do that for?" I queried.
"You ask him when you see him," he answered solemnly.
"So what happens now?" I asked lamely and a little confused.
"The colonel wants to see you immediately. He has flipped his lid," he answered promptly.
"He should have jumped into a furnace, and only then would I believe he was truly worked up about Steve's abduction," I stated and grimaced.
"Not only that," he returned hastily, "Legion called shortly before I came down here and—"
"So!" I interrupted, scarcely concealing my spite for him as I heard his name.
"He wants seventy-five thousand U.S. dollars," he said succinctly.
"What a creepy snake!" I exclaimed and almost drew blood as I bit deep into my lips, seething with bitterness. "Well, I can't see him now," I went on. "I'm tired, and I need some rest and time to figure things out; only then will I see him and not before," I stated, chuckling to myself as I sat beside him in one of the Jeeps, knowing they were in no position to push me around as they had done earlier.
"I guess I'll have to tell him you'll see him later then," he said after a brief silence, and I nodded.
"I'll be all right and as new as a day-old baby when I've had forty winks," I said and grinned at him.
I woke up as the alarm of my Swatch wristwatch began to sound. It was a fitful sleep, but I needed it so badly. Captain had ushered me into a different room as we arrived, and it was a lot better than the previous two.
"You'll be more comfortable in here," he had said as he opened the door. "I'll be back in four hours, will that be okay with you?" he asked.
"Four hours will do," I returned.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" he exclaimed as he stopped by the door.
"What?" I asked, scarcely concealing my impatience.
"Steve said to tell you that the porter made it too," he replied calmly.
"And where is he now?" I asked with a frown on my brow.
"He has some bullet wounds and has been whisked to a clinic in town," he returned.
"I hope it's not too bad."
"It is, but I'm sure he'll pull through. The boys in the clinic are genius. They'll sew him together in no time," he answered grinning.
"I bet they would," I returned skeptically as his brow was knitted again with a worried frown. "What is it this time?" I asked, wondering what was coming next.
"The woman," he said suddenly, while I gapped at him, "she seemed reluctant to go," he went on. "I don't understand it."
"Neither do I," I returned with a shrug and a smirk on my face. "You never can tell with women," I said and instantly shut the door. I went into the bathroom immediately, took a shower, and lay down to consider the situation but drifted off to sleep almost immediately.
I sat up with pains at the back of my neck and was surprised that I had already slept for nearly four hours. Why had George gone against the plan? I wondered as I massaged my nape. Perhaps he might have thought I would probably not make it and had good reasons to distrust them, and Steve would have provided him a shield to get away should they think to start some roughhouse with him. I was still thinking about it when captain rasped on the door and walked in with a tray holding a pitcher, two cups, and a bottle of brandy. He sat on the only upright chair in the room and poured out coffee into the two cups.
The coffee was remarkably reviving, though rather too strong, and he had laced the last cups with some brandy. It was exactly what I needed to get me thinking straight again. I sipped my coffee thoughtfully as he spoke, and I learned from him that the colonel had just been back from snooping around for the money. The somber expression on his face when he said so told me that he was no longer sure that the man wasn't merely putting up a show, but I knew he was. The colonel had told me earlier that they had scraped their barrel, and I'm also sure he knew that no one in his right frame of mind would give him that kind of money even if all the men under his command were kidnapped and held hostage. But I didn't have to tell him all that; I guess he would figure it out for himself sooner or later.
He also told me how he got involved in the whole setup. He was not a regular soldier; he just drifted in and out to do one specialized stint or another. He further emphasized how important Steve was to the unit and that they can't afford to lose him, not when he had been fortunate to come back unhurt from the island. There was no guile in such a concession, even though he mentioned that the colonel and Steve were first cousins. I just listened and decided not to say anything. I could have told him that it would be a lot easier to escape from the island than Legion's crazy outfit.
"We had better see him now; he's waiting," he said finally after a brief silence.
"Let him wait," I returned as I stood up and went into the bathroom. I washed and wiped my face, then gave my cheek a gentle slap as I watched my reflection in the mirror just over the washbowl. "It's time to find out what this old blimp wants," I said aloud, grinning to myself.
Captain and I sat patiently before the colonel's desk and watched as he read the last page of the booklet in front of him. After a while, he dragged his face off the booklet, pushed it aside, and grunted bitterly.
"First, I must thank you for all your help," he began abruptly as usual. "However, I won't bore you with the details of what happened earlier today." He went on, grunting again. "I'm sure Dennis here must have done that already."
I sat quietly watching him closely. There was no doubt that the dramatic turn of events had taken a heavy toll on him. He looked older, sallow, and drawn; in fact, a shadow of himself. He went ahead and gave the detailed history of the unit and their activities . . . the lowdown on their various operations, including the one we had just carried out. How important Steve was to the unit, and the fact that they had almost run out of time and badly needed money to clean up things. As I listened to him, I saw why George had made away with the diamonds and Steve. They sure didn't fool him with all the lousy smarmy talk about not wanting it, and I reckoned he didn't only take Steve as a shield but also to provoke them to go to Legion's camp. I made up my mind to play along with them. After all, I thought, the diamonds are out of their reach as it was.
"I can't afford to send men to Vryheid," he continued. "Dennis told me you could both work out something," he said, staring intently into my eyes. "I leave it to you, then. Just let me know what you might need," he concluded, reaching for his booklet. What was there to say? I thought, as we both stood up and left as quietly as we had entered.
I got to the officers' mess at about 19.45 and found Captain patiently seated at a table with a shaded light above, in the far corner of the hall. There were only a handful of men around and mournful soul music droned out from a battered radio cassette player placed at the end of the bar. Though the food certainly wasn't much to boast about, I was not disappointed; I hadn't expected anything better. While we ate, we went through the details of the plan. He brought out a schematic of Legion's outfit, spread it out on the table, and highlighted the area where the helicopter pad was located and the prison house where Steve, George, and his kids were likely held. Shortly after his comments, I took the schematic, sat back, and studied it for a minute or two, then placed it back on the table.
"Where does Legion hole up?" I asked abruptly, leaning forward, and he looked up at me suspiciously before he answered.
"Here!" he pointed to a large square almost at the middle of the schematic. I studied it closely again for a while, then kept it on the table and went on with my food. He explained that we would have to approach the base from the east end, giving the main entrance a wide berth. However, that had a small drawback, according to him. We would have to cover some distance inside the compound before we could get to the prison house, but he also asserted that it was the best option under the circumstances. That was easy for him to say, I told him. Prowling around in Legion's camp would be the same as toying with the tail of a live cobra. He made several other marks on the schematic and went ahead to explain the difficulties we might encounter. He went on and on with the boring details, and by the time we left the hall, it was nearly 21.15.
I turned the whole plan around in my mind as I sprawled on the bed waiting for zero hour. Captain and I would be dropped some distance from Legion's base, and the chopper would have to be on standby for our signal as soon as we rescued the hostages. I had quibbled about trailing through the bush again, especially at that time of the night, but Captain was quick to remind me that the colonel had made it very clear that he can't send men to Vryheid. He further said that using the road would not only take time but also bring us more trouble than we could handle.
The same old rhyme, I thought, with a grimace. However, he assured me that he knew the terrain like the back of his hand, but I took it bitterly all the same, since he added that we might have to walk in the bush for more than an hour before we could get to the base. Nevertheless, his unfeigned enthusiasm about the mission and excellent suggestions were quite impressive and amazing too. Though he looked tough and smart, his occasional detached and hasty attitude had me thinking he was a sort of milksop.