by Joanne Pence
“And Paavo, too,” she said, reminding them of their mission.
“Yes.” They gave her a sad-eyed gaze, then turned to each other.
“I too vill go vith them,” Grundil said. “I must vatch Béla. Ve can’t have a restaurant vithout the cook.”
“Thank you all so much,” Angie said, clasping her hands. “What would I do without you?”
“Remember, we might not find anything there,” George warned, dampening her spirits a little.
“I know.” She bowed her head a moment, then lifted it again. “But it’s better than sitting here doing nothing. I appreciate it more than words can say.”
“You vatch,” Béla said. “Ve vill be back soon.”
33
Unfortunately, Béla was wrong. Angie didn’t have to watch very long before she saw the four of them being marched from the building by two men whose right hands were held rigidly and ominously in their pockets. Angie had a good idea why. A black limousine drove up.
“Oh, my God!” Angie covered her mouth to hold back her cries as her four new friends were pushed inside. The limousine quickly pulled into traffic.
She ran from the park, crossed the street, and jumped into a taxi sitting in front of the basilica. “Quick, follow that limo!” she shouted.
“Is this a movie, señorita?” the cab driver asked.
“No. Hurry!”
He tore away from his parking space and sped down the street. “Not too close!” she cried. “Those people might be dangerous. Peligro!”
The driver slowed down.
Angie kept turning around to see if Livingstone or Paavo was following as well. But she seemed to be alone in the chase.
The cab headed south and soon left the town far behind. The driver must have seen plenty of movies where one car follows another, because he knew enough to keep back quite far, so far that at times Angie feared they’d lost the limousine. But then the road would straighten ever so slightly, and she’d see it up ahead.
Suddenly her driver pulled off the road and stopped. “What are you doing?” she screamed. “We’re going to lose them.”
“I am sorry,” he said. “I can go no farther, señorita.”
“Why not?” She stared anxiously ahead as if through sheer willpower she could keep the other car in view.
“The land beyond here…we are already too close. It is not safe.”
“Why?”
“It is owned by a man called Colonel Ortega. He is a very powerful man. I do not advise following any car going to visit his hacienda.”
Ortega! She’d learned about him from her fearsome four friends, and wondered what the cab driver knew. “Is he a good man or a dangerous one?” she asked.
“I would never say anything bad about the colonel,” the driver said. “But I would not want to be found on his property unless I was invited…. And I would not want to be invited.”
“Oh, dear.”
“We should go back before someone sees us. I hope it is not already too late.”
“Not too late…for many people,” she murmured.
An hour later, Angie was once again in the plaza across from the Hotel del Sud. Once again she called the front desk and asked to speak with Paavo or Dudley Livingstone, and once again she was told that neither man answered his phone.
She sat on the same park bench she had sat on previously, when Béla and the others spoke with her. But now she felt more alone than ever. There was no one left to help her. Nowhere to turn.
Why had the colonel’s men kidnapped her friends? She shut her eyes against the possibilities. It didn’t make sense. None at all. Tears spilled from her eyes, but she blinked them angrily away.
She could go to the police. But would they listen? It was clear that the colonel was a man of some influence. What if he controlled some of the local gendarmes? And what if she picked the wrong gendarme to go to with her troubles?
She could end up making things a lot worse. But she had to do something. And soon.
Maybe she should call Yosh? But it would take him a day to get here—if his passport was in order. That might be too late.
She covered her face with her hands. Paavo had told her to go back to the States. He’d warned her. He was probably right. It was the only prudent thing to do. And she was always prudent…sort of. But how could she leave?
She gazed across the plaza at the basilica of Mazatlán and prayed for all she was worth.
Suddenly a voice cried out, “Hey!”
Startled, she almost looked upward. Then reason prevailed. She knew that voice. Standing up, she searched the faces of the people behind her.
“Hey! Miss Amala…Angie. Hold it!”
She turned to see Ruby Cockburn hurrying her way. The bun on the top of her head was askew, and the wispy strands around her face flew about more wildly than ever. Angie had never seen an old person move that fast.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Trouble all around.” Gasping for breath, she held on to Angie’s arm as she gave a harsh, beady-eyed stare, first to one side, then the other. “Got to talk. Where can we hide out?”
“How about right here?” Angie suggested. “I’ve got to keep an eye on the hotel. I’ve been gone too long already, and Paavo might return.”
“Return from where?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know where he is,” Angie cried, glad to have somebody to talk to, even if it was the not-so-sympathetic Ruby.
Her grip tightened on Angie’s arm. “It’s bigger than I thought!” As soon as they sat, Ruby launched into her story. “Last night, about twenty hundred hours, four men stole on board. Asked about some Hydra. A woman, from what I gather.”
Angie stared at her in shock. “They came on the Valhalla?” She wondered if they were the same men she had seen leading her spy friends to the limousine.
“One of them grabbed me. Nervy sucker.” Ruby frowned.
“Did he hurt you?”
“Hurt me? Felt me up! Would have been more of a thrill if I hadn’t been so damned pissed off. Actually, wasn’t half bad, till he worked up to my topknot and tried to pull it off my head. Said it had to be a fake. Wonder what he meant by that? Anyway, I kneed him.”
Angie’s eyebrows rose.
“Never fails to make a man curl up and scrub the mission. Then I beat him with the shuffle-board stick, ran like the dickens, and hid.”
“Thank goodness,” Angie cried. “What about the Neblers? Was Nellie hurt?”
“Weren’t there. Missed the whole thing.” Ruby looked disgusted. “Marv wanted to take in some shows. Girlie shows. Nellie went with him. Said he might get himself in trouble if she didn’t. Don’t know why she thought that. At his age, if he could get into trouble, it’d be a damned miracle.”
“At least she was safely off the ship.” Angie sighed with relief. “And Harold’s okay?”
“Last I saw him, he was asleep. Hearing aid was off and he was out. He could sleep through World War Three.”
“So, did those men find the woman they were looking for—the Hydra?”
“Don’t know. At one point—they were getting kind of rough—said the Hydra always hung around with a big, good-looking guy. Told them the only men on board worth giving a second nod to was your man and the cook, Mike Jones.”
“So, did they look for Mike? Did they find him?”
“Don’t know. Like I said, I was out of there. Made me feel bad even saying that much.” Then she gave Angie a knowing eye. “For a time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like I said, I went and hid. No foxholes around, but one of those containers on the main deck had a lock missing, and I jumped in and pulled it shut. Nearly scared the life out of me when I did, though. Julio was inside.”
Angie’s head was spinning. “Julio?”
“Told me he was hiding from Mike Jones, of all things! He swore Jones had tried to kill him. Made me glad I ratted on him, the ingrate! Julio’s a good steward.”<
br />
Mike Jones! Angie felt her skin go cold. “Jones tried to kill Julio? But why?”
“That’s what we came to your friend to find out. He’s the detective. Let him detect. After everyone left the ship, I checked on Harold—he was still sleeping—got some necessities, and me and Julio came to find you.” She looked around, then waved at a man wearing dark glasses and a backward baseball cap. “I told him he needed a disguise. That one seems to work for guys in movies these days. Don’t know why, though. Never saw the Duke in any sissy baseball cap, backward or forward.”
“Señorita!” Julio ran up to her. “We were walking all around searching for you, and here you are.” He pressed a hand against his heart. “I was so scared that you had been killed by that crazy man. Now he wants to kill me! And I haven’t even done anything!”
She was amazed that they had found her. Talk about a sight for sore eyes. “I’m glad to see you. Both of you.”
“Your friend must help us!” Julio wailed. “Did Mrs. Cockburn tell you all about the terrible things that are happening? That Mike Jones tried to kill me?”
“It’s so horrible!” Angie cried. It made sense, though, when she remembered Jones’s peculiar reaction to her tote bag. If he’d been the mysterious intruder in her room and he wanted to search the bag she carried with her all the time, what better way to get his hands on it than to have her bring it to the kitchen? “But he must be the one behind all this! Not some mythological Hydra at all, but Mike Jones. A man.”
“We can take him,” Ruby declared.
Angie’s spine stiffened. They could stop him. They would stop him. “I knew there was something strange about that Mike Jones,” she said, furious at how he’d fooled them.
“Yes. It is very strange.” Julio paled as the impact of what he’d been through hit him again. “I know your friend is a cop. I hope he can protect me and stop Jones. Maybe talk to the police. I am afraid to go to them. I do not think they will listen to some steward from Chile, anyway. But if Inspector Smith goes to them—”
“Inspector Smith is missing.”
Julio’s eyes widened.
Angie looked from Julio to Ruby and motioned for them to bend closer to her. “I believe a man called Colonel Ortega either has him or knows where he is,” she said quietly. “And maybe Dudley Livingstone, too. He also has four other friends of mine. We’ve got to get them away from him.”
“I have heard of Colonel Ortega.” Julio’s voice quivered. “He is very powerful. If he has four or five or six of your friends, I think I do not want to be your friend. I am sorry, señorita.” He stood. “I will try to find someone else to help me.”
She and Ruby jumped up and grabbed him, pushing him back down on the bench.
“Where’s your fighting spirit, boy?” Ruby demanded.
“It fought and lost,” Julio cried.
“Deserter,” Ruby snorted.
“You can’t leave,” Angie said fiercely, standing over him. “Who else but Paavo can protect you from Jones and whoever else he’s working with? You’re in danger because of this, too, for some reason. There’s a whole criminal conspiracy after you!”
He tried to stand, but she pushed him back down again. He protested. “What conspiracy? How can I be part of something if I do not understand what it is?”
“Stiffen your backbone, boy!” Ruby yelled, jumping to her feet and socking the air. “And fight, fight, fight!”
She was starting to draw a crowd. Angie sat down again. “We need each other, Julio. Without us, they’ll all be after you. You won’t stand a chance.”
“After me for what?” he cried, his arms wide, his eyes desperate.
Angie leaned close. “That’s the secret.”
He slumped. Ruby didn’t say anything; she was too busy pumping the air. Angie grabbed her arm and pulled her down on the bench.
“I do not understand what is this Hydra,” Julio said, sounding completely depressed now. “Is it after me, too?”
“I don’t think the Hydra exists,” Angie said. “I think the one behind all that’s happened is Mike Jones. That would make sense. That’s why no one has ever seen this Hydra—why she’s supposed to be almost magical. It’s because she’s not real. She’s a figment of Mike Jones’s imagination. A made-up person. A sort of Remington Steele.”
“Señorita, I am more confused than ever.”
“She’s on to something,” Ruby said to Julio, then looked down her long nose at Angie. “Even if she is a bit pushy.”
Quickly, Angie told them both about Livingstone’s explanation of the situation. “Someone has screwed up royally, and we’re taking the fall for it. Be a man, Julio! Help me.”
“I would, but…but I am too tired. Last night I could not even sleep. I stood in the container all night.”
“Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, boy,” Ruby chimed in. “Remember the halls of Montezuma. Fifty-four forty. Win one for the Gipper!”
“What’s a gipper?” he cried.
“It’s before my time, too,” Angie said.
Ruby looked at the sky and shook her head. “I’ve got what you two need,” she said. She handed Angie the lime green plastic bag she carried. “Those were the necessities I went back for. Don’t open it—just peek.”
Angie did. Inside the bag were two guns, one large and one small. “What—”
“Always come prepared. Especially when traveling to some godforsaken place with foreigners. Around the U.S., too.”
“But…how old are they?” Angie had heard some old guns could blow up in your hand.
“Couple months. Got them for me and Harold for this trip, along with a couple others I still have on me. In the bag, one’s a nine-millimeter, other’s a snub-nosed thirty-eight. Serious stuff—real firepower. Shells and cartridges included.” She looked from Angie to Julio. “You two do know how to use them?”
“I think so,” Angie said.
Julio swallowed and nodded.
“Good.” Ruby stood. “Some things are better left with youngsters. I’m going to find a hotel for me and Harold till this blows over.” She got up to leave. “Adiós, and good luck, you two.”
“Thanks,” Angie murmured as she watched her go.
Her gaze met Julio’s.
“I do not know what to do now,” he said, almost in tears.
“I do.” Then, with a lot more conviction in her voice than she had in her heart, she announced, “Because I’ve got a plan.”
He gazed at her. “A plan, señorita?”
“That’s right. But first we need to make a few purchases.”
34
“Do you know what he is?” the colonel shouted at the Hydra, who was seated on an easy chair in his living room. Ortega couldn’t sit. He was too busy stomping back and forth in front of the plate-glass window that looked out over his hillside. “He is an American cop! What the hell were you thinking of?”
She gritted her teeth. She hated working with the insane—an occupational hazard in this business—and the colonel was definitely among the crazies. “He’s got the microfilm.”
“The hell he does! I was going to have my men beat it out of him when we went through his pockets and found the identification. Now what? How do I let him go? But if I kill him and his death is traced back here, all I have worked for will be over. Ruined!”
“No one will trace it back.”
“No? Half of Mazatlán is here already! You, your toy boy, the cop, that strange group of four foreigners. Madre mia! Why did I ever get mixed up with you in the first place?”
“Greed, Colonel Ortega.” She crossed her legs, allowing the slit in her tight black skirt to reveal plenty of leg, then struck a match and lit one of the Cuban cigars the colonel kept in his high-priced humidor. She loved a good Cuban. And she didn’t necessarily mean a cigar. “It’s the same reason everyone gets mixed up with me.” She blew the smoke in his direction.
He glared but chose to ignore the insult for the moment. “Then I regret th
e day I met you.” He spat out the words as if they were bullets.
“You aren’t the first man who’s said that.” She breathed in the smoke and held it before letting it roll from her mouth. “Nonetheless, the damage is done. Since Amalfi and Smith don’t have the microfilm, and we shredded everything in their room trying to find it, it’s got to be on the woman. It had to have been hidden in or on something that she carries or wears all the time—except those few moments when Ingerson was hiding it. We have to get our hands on her.”
The colonel stood in front of her, so angry that a vein pulsed on his forehead. “You mean, with all the people I already have imprisoned here, I need another one?”
“Colonel, don’t give yourself a stroke.” She stood and took a long time snuffing out the cigar in the ashtray before she gazed up at him. “I’ll get her for you.”
“For me? Now I am supposed to kidnap some American woman?” He flung his arms over his head in frustration and anger. “Is it not enough I already have an American cop here? Do you want to bring the whole FBI and CIA down on my neck?”
“All right!” She didn’t like to raise her voice, but with some people, it couldn’t be helped. “I’ll take care of getting rid of them for you, but the price has just gone up another million. Two million dollars now.”
Ortega’s face turned dangerously livid. “Why should I pay you two million for something you already screwed up?”
“Because you need me to clear it up for you,” she said with a smile.
“I would recommend that you go along with her, my colonel,” Eduardo Catalán said from where he was docilely sitting. “At this point, there is not a lot of choice.”
“Listen to your consigliore, Colonel.” The Hydra gave Eduardo a slight bow. “He’s giving good advice.”
Ortega, too, glanced at Eduardo. After a long pause, he sighed. “I suppose the money could come from the same place as the first million.”
“But of course, my colonel.” Clearly, Eduardo understood perfectly what Ortega had just proposed. “It goes without saying.”
Ortega faced her. “All right. We have a deal. Get the woman and find that microfilm. If you cannot, you are dead.”