The Flaming Mountain: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story

by Harold L. Goodwin

  CHAPTER XIV

  Night Patrol

  The jeep rolled out of Calor on the highway back to the Hot SpringsHotel. Scotty drove, while Rick relaxed in the seat beside him. They hadtaken time for a sandwich and coffee, because they were not sure whenthey might eat again.

  Hartson Brant and the scientists were at work on detailed analysis ofthe day's shots. It would take some time. When Rick told his fatherabout the conversation with Captain Montoya, the scientist had noddedagreement. "It sounds like good sense, especially since there has beenno sign of an invasion of the city. The troops could have been herebefore this. Go ahead, but be cautious. Always leave your escape routeopen."

  It was good advice, and the boys intended to take it.

  Scotty drove in silence for a few minutes, then said, "We're nearly atthe fork in the road. Keep an eye open."

  "Will do," Rick assured him. The left fork was the main, paved road toSan Souci. The right fork led up to the hotel.

  Scotty reached the fork and slowed.

  "There!" Rick pointed.

  Twenty yards up the right fork there was a barricade fence, newly madeof small logs. Lounging against the fence were a half dozen soldiers.

  "We could go left to San Souci, but not to the hotel," Rick said. "Nowwhat?"

  "Hold on and be ready for a quick take-off," Scotty muttered. He turnedthe jeep into the left fork, then shifted and backed around and up theright fork to where the soldiers waited.

  One soldier, with sergeant's stripes on his sleeve, sauntered over tothem. He carried a rifle, but Rick noted that he didn't hold it at theready. The boy called, "Do you speak English, sergeant?"

  "Leetle beet," the soldier replied. He smiled cordially. "What youweesh, senores?"

  "Can we get to the hotel?" Scotty asked.

  "No can, senor."

  "Why not?" Rick asked.

  "Ees ... how you say? ... big talk at hotel. Ees _el gobernador y_ ...and ... _el comandante_ Guevara. Also more mens. No one goes to hotellong time. Maybe when talk feenish."

  "The governor and lieutenant governor are having a big conference at thehotel?" Rick asked incredulously.

  "Ees so, senor."

  "How long will this conference last?" Scotty asked.

  The sergeant shrugged. "_Quien sabe?_ Maybe two day, maybe two_semana_ ... how you say?..."

  "Weeks," Rick supplied. "What are they talking about?"

  "Ees ... how you say?... _seguridad nacional_. Thees ees what _elcomandante_ speaks to us."

  Rick glanced at Scotty. "National security conference. Those can last along time." He looked at the sergeant again. "We could go to San Souci,and from there to the hotel, maybe."

  "_Pero no_, senor. That way also ees guard. Ees no way get to hotel.More good you not try, eh? _Soldados_ at hotel, they maybe shoots."

  "Now we know," Scotty said. "Nothing more to be gained here."

  "Did you see the governor?" Rick asked.

  "No, senor. But I saw _el comandante_ Guevara. But eef he ees here, also_el gobernador_. _Como no?_"

  "I guess so," Rick agreed. "_Mil gracias_, sergeant. _Vaya con Dios._ Athousand thanks. Go with God."

  "_Y ustedes_," the sergeant returned politely. "And you, senores."

  Scotty let the clutch out and the jeep moved ahead. "Now to call onCaptain Montoya," he said. "Right?"

  "Right," Rick agreed. "Interesting. Guevara tells the troops he and thegovernor are having a security conference and should not be interrupted.So guards are posted to protect the hotel. And none of the poor_soldados_ realize that blocking the roads also keeps people away fromthe volcanic pipe, so Guevara and Connel can start work."

  "With Guevara's own men to do the dirty work," Scotty added.

  "Too true. Maybe they even have soldiers on the job. I know what elsethe soldiers are guarding, too. Probably without knowing it."

  Scotty turned to look at him. "You thinking the same thing I am?"

  "Yep. Somewhere behind that guarded perimeter is the governor. And untilwe get him out, we're helpless."

  "Then," Scotty announced, "we'll just have to get him out."

  The jeep almost flew down the road to Calor. Scotty wheeled it throughthe narrow streets and drew up at the police station. In a moment theywere reporting to Captain Montoya.

  The young officer listened, then smacked a fist into his palm. "_Bueno!_This is good, _amigos_. We will let Guevara and your Connel have thediamonds, eh? They can use the entire army to guard the mine, if theywish. I hope they do. That means we have the rest of the island in whichto maneuver. I have already sent one of my most trusted men to approachthe diamond pipe from the north, through Redondo. That way we will knowthe exact limits."

  "But they've got the army," Rick objected. "Where does that leave us?"

  "Free to operate in other ways," Montoya said. "The army is occupied,no? Let them stay that way."

  His keen eyes examined the two critically. Rick felt a littleuncomfortable at the penetrating stare. Then Montoya smiled. "I do notknow you," he said flatly. "But I have certain evidence of the kind ofyoung men you are. First, you came to this island. Why? On a mission ofmercy, in answer to my uncle's call. It was unselfish, and it was alsodangerous. Then, tonight, you took the chance of finding the roadblock.Also, though this may surprise you, we have heard something of theSpindrift Scientific Foundation even here on this island."

  Rick was surprised. He knew the Foundation had an internationalreputation, but he had thought it was limited to scientists.

  "So, I have some basis for what I now ask of you," Montoya added. "Thereis no time to collect those of my men who are completely loyal. It isbecause they are scattered, searching for some trace of my uncle. I donot wish to take time to wait until they report in."

  "What do you want us to do?" Scotty asked.

  "It is simple, and not so simple. A large party cannot invade theperimeter Guevara has established, but a very few can perhaps do it. Wewill be that few. We will go to Casa Guevara. And, if we are lucky, wewill rescue my uncle. What do you say?"

  The boys exchanged glances. Rick spoke for both of them. "We're withyou."

  Montoya didn't have to reply. His warm handshake said everything therewas to say.

  Scotty spoke up. "I've had some experience in nighttime operations. Wewill need dark clothes, and something to blacken our faces. We will needweapons. Not guns. If we get into a shooting scrape it will bring thewhole army down on us."

  "I agree." Montoya opened his desk drawer and drew out a policeman'snight stick. He handed it to Scotty. "How about this?"

  Scotty hefted it, grinned, and handed it to Rick. It was heavy, andperfectly balanced. Rick guessed it had been drilled and the end filledwith lead. "One good thing about this," he said. "No moving parts to getout of order."

  Montoya smiled. "True. We will each have one, and I will take my pistolas a last resort. Let us look at the map and memorize it. We will haveto go through the jungle to reach the house, and it would be disastrousto lose our way."

  "Get a compass," Scotty requested. "We can set a compass course and hitit right on the nose."

  Rick looked at his pal. "Marine training?"

  "Nope." Scotty grinned. "Boy Scout. But it will come in handy. I think Icould take you there anyway, but we'd better have a compass to be sure."

  The three bent over the map and worked out the approach to Casa Guevara.For one thing, they agreed to approach as close as possible by jeep. Ifthey found the governor, transportation would be needed. He could not beas fast on foot as might be necessary, because of his age. Besides, theyhad no idea of his present physical condition.

  It was dark when they rolled out of Calor, Rick driving. All three weredressed in dark clothes, and each had a night stick in his belt.Montoya's pistol was hidden in a shoulder holster.

  At the officer's direction, they turned toward the airport, passed it,and headed toward the lighthouse at the extreme southern tip of theisland. The road led past the light and along the southern
shore, ahundred yards from the sea. Then, as they reached their first turningpoint, Montoya said, "Slowly. It should be about here."

  After a moment he found it, a pair of ruts through the rolling farmland. Rick knew from his study of the map that it was a road on whichbananas were hauled from the plantations. It cut across to the main roadto San Souci. By taking this route, they would miss the check point nearthe hotel.

  The road was bumpy but passable. Rick kept a steady speed in spite ofthe jouncing it gave his passengers. They could take it.

  Presently there was blacktop ahead. They had reached the road to SanSouci. Rick pulled a flashlight from his pocket and pointed it at theodometer, counting off the tenths of a mile as he headed toward thetown. When he reached seven-tenths he stopped the jeep.

  "Turnoff point," he said. "From now on, we steer our way through theboondocks. Any preferred way, Captain?"

  Montoya shrugged. "There is no road, or even a path. Do what you can."

  "Okay. Scotty, make sure we head due north."

  "Check. Make a 90-degree turn and keep going. I'll correct you."

  Rick had only one real concern, and that was that the jeep lights mightbe visible from the higher elevation of Casa Guevara. But it had to berisked. He thought there wasn't really much of a chance, because thethick foliage would screen them. Besides, anyone seeing the lights mightassume it was soldiers making their rounds.

  The ground was carpeted with fallen vegetation, but it was the dryseason and the earth under the leaves was firm enough. There was littledanger of the jeep bogging down, especially in four-wheel drive.

  Rick picked his way through the jungle, keeping to clear spots as muchas he could. Once it was necessary to butt down a huge banana plantbefore he could continue, but mostly it was a matter of plowing throughscrub. Sometimes a palmetto leaf whipped across his face, and once athorny bush caught painfully and drew blood.

  Scotty navigated, keeping track of their direction. Now and then hespoke. "More to the right when you can. We're about a hundred yards tothe left of our base line." Then, "Straighten out. We're on courseagain."

  After what seemed to Rick an eternity of plowing through the heavygrowth, Scotty said quietly, "Pick a place to turn around, then kill thelights and motor."

  Rick reached a place where there was room, swung the wheels hard,backed around, and put the jeep in its own tracks facing the other way.He turned off the lights and cut the motor switch. The silence anddarkness flooded in.

  "Just sit still until our eyes adjust," Scotty said, very quietly. "IfI've figured right, we're about a hundred yards from the dirt road, justabout in front of the Guevara driveway. We'd better walk the rest of theway, in case of guards."

  Rick waited until the blackness lessened. His pupils were fully dilatednow, and he could see surprisingly well. There was a moon, but at themoment it was behind a cloud bank. When it emerged, he would be able tosee perfectly.

  "Let's go," Scotty said. "No more talking now. When I hold up my hand,stop and wait for me."

  The ex-Marine took the lead, Montoya following and Rick bringing up therear. He took the night stick from his belt and hefted it. The weightwas comforting in his hand.

  Scotty found his way with the ease that Rick always admired. Their stepswere noiseless on the carpeted jungle floor. Presently Scotty held uphis hand, and Montoya and Rick stopped, waiting. Scotty disappearedahead of them.

  The seconds ticked by. Mosquitoes found them and whined around theirheads. Neither moved.

  Scotty returned as silently as he had gone. Beckoning them close, hewhispered, "One guard at the gateposts. Give me one minute, then walkforward until you reach the road. Call to him in Spanish, Captain. Iwant to be sure his attention is on you."

  "I understand," Montoya said softly.

  Rick put a finger on his pulse and began counting. He could tell hispulse was a little fast. When the count reached ninety he tapped Montoyaon the shoulder. But the officer was already moving.

  Rick followed close behind, the night stick held in a palm that hadgrown sweaty with tension. The San Luzian picked his way carefully, buthe moved at a good speed. Then, suddenly, he stopped. Rick peered pasthim and saw the lighter color of the dirt road.

  Montoya took a breath, then he called clearly, "_Hola, amigo! Quepasa?_"

  Across the way a figure rose, rifle ready. A suspicious voice called,"_Quien va?_"

  There was a soft but definite sound, like a pumpkin dropping on a hardfloor. The guard crumpled.

  Montoya and Rick moved to Scotty's side with long strides. Scotty wasalready tying the guard hand and foot with his own belt and rifle sling.Then he took out a handkerchief and tied it into place as a gag. Theguard could breathe past it, but yelling would get him little--when hewoke up.

  "Help me get him into the brush," Scotty whispered. In a moment theguard was out of sight of any casual glance. There wasn't time to hidehim with care.

  "Up the driveway," Scotty whispered. "I'll lead. When we get near thehouse, there probably will be other guards, so we'll have to leave theroad and take to the bush again. Let's go."

  It was an eerie walk. Rick kept expecting a challenge from up ahead, butapparently there was no guard on the driveway itself. It wound throughthe jungle for a good quarter of a mile before it began to widen outinto a clearing.

  Scotty motioned and led the way off the road. The march through thejungle began again. Rick plodded ahead, with complete faith in Scotty.He knew his pal was taking them in a circle, but he couldn't have saidexactly where they were in relation to the house or the driveway.

  Then, suddenly, there were lights ahead!

  Scotty moved a few feet more, then sank down into the dense cover. Rickinched to his side, and saw that Montoya was doing the same.

  They had a clear view of the two-story house and the surroundingclearing. It was a hacienda very much like those Rick had seen inMexico, stucco on the outside, probably with heavy brick walls.

  And there were guards! He saw the glow of two cigarette butts on thefront porch, and another toward the rear. Three so far. Then a figurecrossed through the light from a window. Four!

  The three invaders waited while the long minutes ticked away. The threewere not alone; hordes of night insects joined them and made the waitmiserable.

  _The three invaders waited while the long minutes tickedaway_]

  Scotty drew back until his lips were close to Rick's ear. "I'm going tocircle the house once. Keep watching."

  When Montoya would have followed Scotty, Rick put a hand on his arm andwhispered that they should wait. The two concentrated on watching thewindows and the guards. Rick guessed that Guevara was not at home. Sofar as he could tell, no one was inside the house, at least on his side.There was light in one upstairs window, but the angle was wrong; hecouldn't see inside.

  The two guards on the front porch stayed there. That was probably theirstation. Another guard seemed to have the rear corner of the house. Thefourth also seemed to be assigned to the rear, but he moved around morethan his compatriot. Rick could see that the four were not soldiers. Atleast they were not in uniform. Probably they were Guevara's personalemployees. Bodyguards, perhaps.

  Scotty returned, silent as a wraith in the night. He sank to the groundbetween the two and whispered, "I don't think there's anyone home. Justthe four guards. If the governor is here, he's in that upstairs room."

  "What do we do?" Rick whispered.

  "We'll have to take it from the rear. It will be tough, because there'snot much cover."

  Scotty began to outline his plan, then stopped suddenly. Rick had astrange feeling in his stomach again, and he realized that the earth wastrembling under him. The tremor grew in strength, and from close bythere was a snapping sound as a dead limb broke under the vibration anddropped to the jungle floor.

  "Now!" Scotty whispered sibilantly. "Come on!"

  Instantly Rick and Montoya followed the ex-Marine's lead, withdrawinginto the denser brush, then rising and hurrying after
him, crouched overand careful not to make a sound.

  Scotty led them in a wide circle that brought them finally to the rearof the house. Rick sized up the situation and saw only two trees thatoffered any cover. The ground was still trembling, although slightly.Then, as he crouched, the temblor increased again.

  The guards were disturbed. The two in the rear moved back, away from thehouse, as though expecting it to fall on them. One of them spoke inSpanish and the other replied curtly.

  Montoya sucked in his breath. He whispered, "The first one asked if theyshould not get the old man out, and the second said let him fall withthe house."

  The two guards were well back from the house now, staring upward at thesecond floor. If the stucco started to go, it would be high on the housewall at the roof line.

  Scotty touched Rick on the arm, then rose and moved like a dark ghost,straight across the open glade toward the guards. Scotty reached thetree nearest the house and slipped into its shadow.

  Rick sized things up. The other tree was perhaps thirty feet away fromScotty, and about ten feet closer to the jungle's edge. The guards werestill looking at the house. Rick moved, bent low, night stick firmlyclutched in his hand. He sensed that Montoya was close behind him.

  He straightened up in the shadow of the tree, his eyes on Scotty. Hispulse was speeding and his breathing was short and shallow. Montoyacrouched next to him, ready to move.

  Rick saw Scotty bend and pick up something. He saw Scotty wave towardthem, then saw Scotty throw something. The object crashed into thestucco of the house high on the second floor, then it tumbled to theground. Scotty had thrown a rock!

  The guards stiffened, thinking that the sound was the first evidencethat the house was falling. Scotty moved like a streak, and Rick chargedforward with club held high. Montoya was even faster.

  The two guards, interested only in the house, never knew what hit them.Rick eased one to the ground as his knees crumpled after Montoya'svicious swing. Scotty had the other; he had knocked him out and caughthim before he fell.

  The three left the guards and hurried to the back door. Montoyamotioned, and took over the lead. He snaked the pistol out of hisshoulder holster and held it ready.

  For an instant they paused in what seemed to be a pantry, then movedinto the kitchen beyond. Rick could see a hallway leading straight tothe front door. The door was solid wood, and it was closed.

  Montoya gestured with the pistol and led the way. Then, motioning theboys back, he boldly opened the door and strode out.

  The surprised front guards stared into the pistol muzzle. Montoya spokein crisp Spanish that Rick couldn't follow, but the meaning was amplyclear. The guards' hands shot high. Montoya stepped aside and the guardswalked into the house like lambs.

  "Tie them!" Montoya snapped.

  A cord from the Venetian blinds was the most convenient tie material.Scotty cut it loose with a sweep of his scout knife and slashed it intotwo pieces. While Montoya held his pistol on the guards the boys tiedtheir arms behind them, lashing their elbows together.

  "Now," the police captain said, "let us find my uncle."

  The stairs led up from the hallway. Montoya took them two at a time, theboys close behind. At the top of the stairs, the officer called inSpanish. There was an answer from a room on the left.

  The door was locked, but the key was hanging from a hook on the wall. Ina moment the two Montoyas were greeting each other with a warm embrace,and then with a more formal handshake.

  The governor greeted the two Spindrifters with a bow and a handshake,and then inquired, "What good providence brought you here, nephew mine?"

  "We knew you were here," Montoya said, "because there was no other placewhere Guevara could have hid you."

  "Let's discuss it later," Rick urged. "Those guards out back will becoming to, and we want to be out of here."

  "You are right," Montoya agreed instantly. "We are not yet in the clear,senor uncle. We must hurry."

  "Into the jungle," Scotty said. "Once in the brush and we're okay.They'll never catch us then."

  Montoya hefted the pistol he still held in his left hand.

  "It will be better for them if they do not," he said quietly.