Easing his body away from hers, Hawk stood and stretched.
He checked the clothes he'd spread out under the stairwell last night and found them completely dry. Picking up the wrinkled garments, he shoved them under his arm and headed for the bathroom in the basement. Not wanting to leave Rorie alone in the dark, he didn't take the lamp. Feeling his way around in the gloomy hallway, he found the toilet, which was a room no bigger than a broom closet. When he flung open the bathroom door, bright morning sunshine flooded through the dirty, cracked windowpanes.
He turned the chipped porcelain faucets and breathed a sigh of relief when a thin stream of cold, dingy water trickled out and into the filthy sink. Cupping his hands, he filled them and splashed the water on his face.
He used the commode, washed his hands and dressed hurriedly, then checked his watch. It was nearly six-thirty. Murdock would be here soon.
When he returned to the area of the basement he had shared with Rorie last night, he found her awake, sitting at the table and hungrily devouring a banana.
"I found a bathroom," he said.
Gulping down the last bite of fruit, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "A bathroom? That's wonderful. Where?"
"Don't get too excited. There's no shower or tub. Just a sink with cold water and a commode that actually works."
"Beggars can't be choosers." Standing, she held the edges of the blanket securely around her body. "Where is it?"
"Straight down that hallway. Turn right and you'll see daylight through the bathroom window."
Grabbing up her clothes from the chairs, she smiled at Hawk. "Thanks. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Make it snappy, honey. Murdock should be here any minute."
"I'll hurry."
Rorie had no more than disappeared down the hallway when Hawk heard footsteps overhead. Heavy, booted footsteps. One man. Probably Murdock. But he would be a fool to take any chances. Retrieving the XM4 Springfield pistol from the canvas bag, Hawk eased up the L-shaped stairway. Waiting on the landing, he held the 9-mm weapon in his hand.
The door flew open. "Hawk?"
Hawk slipped the gun under his waistband. "Yeah. Down here." He retreated to the basement hideaway.
Murdock clumped down the stairs. Glancing around, he grunted, "Where's the woman?"
"Freshening up," Hawk told him.
Murdock tossed Hawk the Thermos he'd brought with him. "Here's some coffee. Where you're going, you'll need to be wide-awake and alert."
Hawk caught the Thermos, unscrewed the lid and poured the black liquid into the lid cup. "Any word at all on Prince Francisco's whereabouts?"
"All I know is that the kid's not at the palace with his grandfather. And like I told you before, he hasn't been seen for over a month."
"Any chance that he's been kidnapped or killed? Or do you still think the king sent the boy into hiding?" Hawk sipped the warm, bitter coffee.
"Information on the young prince is top secret. I don't think anyone except the king and maybe those closest to him know the truth about what happened to the boy."
"So that means I'll have to talk to King Julio if I want to find out where his grandson is." Hawk downed another swallow of coffee. "Dammit, Murdock, what'd you put in this coffee—your old boots?"
Laughter rumbled from Murdock's chest. "What's the matter, aren't you man enough for my super brew?"
Rorie cleared her throat loudly. Simultaneously he and Murdock turned toward the sound. She stood just inside the room, staring bug-eyed at Murdock. Her cheeks were rosy from a cold-water wash. She had freshly plaited her hair into one long braid and put on her wrinkled pants and shirt.
"Excuse me. I heard voices and I wondered if—"
"Murdock, this is Miss Aurora Dean." Hawk set the cup on the table. "Miss Dean's brother was the missionary, Peter Dean, the guy who was married to Princess Cipriana." Hawk took a few steps toward Rorie, his gut instincts urging him to protect her, even from his old friend. "Rorie, this is Murdock. You met him last night."
Murdock gave Hawk a knowing glance, one that held no meaning for Rorie. But Hawk understood that Murdock was questioning him on the wisdom of keeping the truth from Rorie. Without saying a word, Murdock warned him that not telling Rorie about his part in her brother's and sister-in-law's executions was a mistake that he would live to regret.
"Hello, Mr. Murdock," Rorie said. "Thank you very much for everything you've done to help us."
Rorie couldn't stop staring at the big mountain of a man. She didn't think she'd ever seen a man as large as Mr. Murdock except for Manton. Hawk was tall—about six-two—and muscular, his body sleek, toned perfection. But beside his friend, Hawk didn't look so big.
Mr. Murdock had to be at least six-five, with massive shoulders and huge, granite arms. If she had to guess his age, she would say well over forty. Maybe close to fifty. There was a hard, rugged, almost-ageless quality to his suntanned features. Not a handsome face, but a strong, compelling one. He wore his brown hair a little too long, the shaggy tips just brushing the collar of his khaki shirt. She caught a glimpse of the sadness in his hazel eyes—a sadness that he seemed to think he kept well hidden.
Murdock surveyed Rorie from head to toe, studying her so thoroughly that he made her blush. When he looked directly into her face, he laughed.
"Lady, I don't know who's the craziest—you, for wanting to come back to San Miguel, or Hawk, for bringing you."
"I am," Hawk admitted. "No point in discussing it. We're here and there's no turning back now."
"Are you two ready to leave?" Murdock asked.
Hawk glanced at Rorie. She nodded.
"We're ready," Hawk said.
"Then you'd better head straight for La Vega this morning. You don't have any time to lose." Murdock glanced at Rorie and shook his head. "Damn! Look, it's like this—the capital city is on the verge of falling to Lazaro. The rebels have mounted an all-out attack. Word is that the king is preparing to flee to Puerto Angelo and set up a new, temporary capital there."
"Is there any chance that Frankie might be waiting in Puerto Angelo for King Julio?" Rorie asked.
"The odds are against it. My bet is that your nephew won't be with his grandfather at any time. The king knows the boy is safer as far away from him as possible," Murdock told Rorie. "And your only chance to find out where the prince is will be to confront the king himself. Only that old reprobate and maybe his most trusted comrades know what happened to the boy."
"That means we have to get to La Vega before King Julio leaves, doesn't it?" Rorie knew the answer to her question, even before Murdock replied.
"Yeah. Once the king is in Puerto Angelo, even I won't be able to get to him, without an army of my own," Murdock admitted.
"Then we have to go to La Vega now." She looked to Hawk for agreement.
"If we do that, it will mean walking right into the middle of the battle," Hawk said. "You could stay here and—"
"No! King Julio won't tell you anything, but considering the situation in San Miguel now, he might realize that Frankie's only hope for survival depends on my taking him back to the United States."
"She's right," Murdock said. "Julio Francisco loves his only grandchild as much as he hates anything American. There's a chance that he'll actually put the boy's safety first, if he realizes he's not going to be able to protect him indefinitely."
"Can you get us through the rebel lines and into the city?" Hawk asked Murdock.
The corners of Murdock's mouth lifted just a fraction, into a quirky, self-satisfied smile. "Can Superman fly?"
* * *
Chapter 6
« ^ »
Rorie's stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything except a banana since noon yesterday before they left Miami. She'd tried Murdock's coffee, but one sip had been more than enough. It had been all she could do not to spit out the putrid liquid the minute it hit her tongue. But she had forced herself to swallow that small taste, while Hawk watched
in amusement.
Sitting in the back of the jeep, she felt every bump and jostle as Murdock maneuvered the vehicle along the only road between Cabo Verde and La Vega. She squirmed about on the ragged seat, trying unsuccessfully to settle her body into a semicomfortable position. The gun holster Hawk had forced her to strap on felt larger and heavier than it actually was—probably because she loathed the very idea of carrying a weapon. Hawk had assured her that it was now commonplace in San Miguel to see both men and women wearing their weapons openly. She adjusted the brim of the hat Murdock had given her to hide her blond hair. The big man had also advised her to wear the sunglasses he had provided.
"Hawk can easily pass as a native, but we'll need to disguise you, at least until y'all get in to see the king," Murdock had told her.
They made the first few miles out of Cabo Verde quickly, seeing no one in transit. The scenery along the route would have captivated her, if she hadn't been so worried about the lifesaving mission that had brought her to this tropical paradise. The farther north they traveled, the less mountainous and smoother the terrain. Occasionally she caught glimpses of the ocean through the thicket of verdant growth—coconut palms, mangroves and greenery she couldn't readily identify.
Halfway to their destination, when the road from Cabo Verde merged with a two-lane highway, they began meeting an unusually large flow of traffic coming from La Vega. Within ten minutes, the narrow roadway was clogged with cars, trucks, jeeps and donkey carts. People on foot covered both sides of the road.
Cursing loudly, Murdock slammed his fist down on the jeep's horn. When only a few women and children moved out of the way, he revved the motor and charged forward. His bold move cleared the right-hand lane.
"They're fleeing the city in a big hurry," he said. "Getting out before Lazaro's army takes over the capital. I expected as much, but not so many people so soon. Things must be falling apart fast."
Rorie leaned forward, clutching the back of Hawk's seat. "Do you think King Julio will have left La Vega before we get there?"
"Let's hope not," Hawk said, then glanced at Murdock. "How long will Nina wait for us?"
"As long as she can," Murdock replied. "But when old Julio leaves the city, she'll go with him. Let's just hope I can get y'all through in time to put our plan into action."
"Are you talking about Nina Hernández?" Rorie asked. "King Julio's mistress?"
Hawk turned halfway around in his seat and looked at Rorie, who stared back at him, her eyes filled with questions. "Nina and Murdock are old acquaintances. She occasionally does favors for him."
"For the right price." Murdock chuckled, the deep, throaty sound like the beat of a bass drum.
"And you paid Nina to help us get through to see the king?" Rorie remembered King Julio's young mistress, a raven-haired beauty with a seductive body, a viper tongue and a hot temper. Cipriana had disliked the woman intensely and refused to acknowledge her father's relationship with the former prostitute.
"Nina is a smart girl," Murdock said. "She knows that gold can help her more than the king can, if the rebel forces win this war. Besides, Nina said that she doesn't want to see the kid get killed. She became fond of your nephew during these past few years."
"But she doesn't know where Frankie is?" Rorie asked.
"She says she doesn't. She told us that one day the kid was at the palace and the next day he wasn't. And when she asked the king about the young prince, he told her that she was better off not knowing."
Rorie shuddered to think what kind of influence King Julio, his mistress and his corrupt officials might have had on Frankie. "Whatever her reasons for helping us, I'm thankful."
"Other than Captain García, old Julio's personal goon-squad leader, Nina has more influence with the king than anyone." Murdock kept the speeding jeep far to the right of the congested left lane, running the vehicle completely off the road when pedestrians blocked his path.
"Captain García is the one who took Frankie away from me." Rorie had relived that horrible day a thousand times, and every time, she had tried to think of something—anything—she could have done differently. "He had me drugged and put on a plane back to the United States. But I'm sure he was following the king's orders."
Hawk grabbed Rorie's hand that clutched the back of his seat. She gasped. "Did that bastard do anything else to you?"
"What do you mean—? Oh. No! No, they didn't. I vaguely recall, before I blacked out, one soldier warning another that he'd better not touch me because of King Julio's orders."
Hawk let out a deep, painful breath. "Then they didn't touch you?" Hawk ran the tip of his thumb across her wrist.
"Not in the way you mean. But Captain García did hit me, when I refused to let them take Frankie." Absently, Rorie rubbed the side of her face. "He hit me so hard, he knocked me down."
"God damn son of a bitch!" Hawk released his hold on Rorie and turned sharply, facing forward. He didn't want her to see the murder in his eyes, the raging desire to break Captain García's neck.
Rorie leaned back in the seat. The racket from the vehicles and people congesting the road blocked out the sound of Hawk's and Murdock's voices.
"You can take care of this García after you finish your business with old Julio," Murdock said.
"What makes you think—"
"Don't try to lie to me. We've known each other too long, been through too much together for you to feed me a line of bull. The very thought that anybody touched her has got you totally bent out of shape."
"So? Nobody would want to see an innocent like her brutalized by the likes of García and his men."
"It's more personal than that," Murdock said. "I understand. If I found out somebody had hit my woman, I'd bash his head in."
"She's not my woman."
"Not yet. But it's only a matter of time, isn't it?"
Rorie leaned forward, irritated that she couldn't hear Hawk and Murdock's conversation. "What are y'all talking about?"
"Just going over some details," Hawk said.
"What sort of details? Something I should know?" she asked.
"I was just telling Hawk that a couple of soldiers, who are very loyal to Nina, will meet us right outside the city and personally escort y'all to the palace."
Murdock honked the horn at a scattering of natives who littered the road, many toting their possessions in baskets balanced on their heads and in cloth wraps strapped to their backs. "The soldiers will take you directly to Nina, and she'll get you in to see the king."
Ten minutes later, they entered the outskirts of La Vega, the capital city. Cloud-shadowed hills cradled the town and the once-busy harbor.
The streets leading out of the city were jammed with frightened citizens trying to flee before their town was captured. Horns honked. Men cursed obscenities at one another. Women screamed in terror as they ran from their homes. Children wept as their parents snatched them from their yards. The roar of battle rumbled like thunder in the distance. Billows of smoke darkened the inland sky.
Murdock eased the jeep off the main road, onto a side road that led down to the docks. He pulled to a stop in front of an old warehouse.
"Wait here." Murdock jumped out of the jeep, went over to a metal door at the side of the building and knocked a rhythmic beat.
The door opened and Murdock disappeared inside, then returned in a couple of seconds and motioned for Hawk and Rorie. They climbed out of the jeep. Two armed soldiers emerged from the warehouse.
Murdock spoke rapidly in Spanish to the two men. They nodded agreement and then took their positions behind Hawk and Rorie, relieving them of their exposed weapons.
"You're going to pose as a couple of captives," Murdock said. "Once y'all get within sight of the palace, put your hands over your heads and act scared."
Rorie glanced nervously at Hawk, who gave her a reassuring nod and smile.
"If anything goes wrong and you can't meet me back here in three hours, try to make your way to Papa Joe's." Murdock grasp
ed Hawk's shoulder. "Dulcina will know how to contact me."
The soldiers led Hawk and Rorie along the back streets, avoiding as much of the escape pandemonium as possible. Chaos reigned in the city. Deserting soldiers and civilians alike ran amok, scurrying like rats fleeing from a sinking ship.
The palace loomed ahead of them—an enormous Spanish mission-style building of pale pink stucco, with a red-tiled roof. The palace had formerly been a convent, but King Julio's father had restored the abandoned structure, which contained forty-seven rooms, and turned it into a magnificent landmark.
When they neared the entrance to the palace, Hawk nudged Rorie, then raised his hands and entwined, his fingers across the back of his head. Rorie followed his lead as they began their prisoner act.
"We are to take these two directly to Captain García." Speaking in Spanish, the younger soldier explained to the guards. "Orders of Colonel Yago."
The guards made no protest. Rorie let out a deep breath once they passed through the palace gates. Inside the king's personal domain, the flurry of activity was as frantic as it had been in the city's streets. Even with her untrained civilian eye, Rorie could tell that the palace staff was preparing for a hurried exodus.
They entered the palace by the arched doorways on the west side. Rorie recalled that the king's private quarters were in this wing of the house.
"This way, por favor. Señorita Hernández is waiting." The younger soldier pointed the way.
Lowering his hands from his head, Hawk held out one hand to the soldier, who immediately returned Hawk's pistol to him. The man's comrade handed Rorie the gun he'd taken from her holster.
Hawk stepped behind Rorie, sandwiching himself between her and the two soldiers. The young man in front of Rorie, knocked softly on the heavily gilded double doors. One door eased ajar slightly and a pair of dark eyes peeped through the crack. The door opened wider and Nina Hernández extended her hand outward and motioned for her guests to enter.
The soldiers flanked the doors. After removing her sunglasses, Rorie took a tentative step forward. Hawk gave her a gentle shove. She stepped over the threshold and into Nina's bedroom. Hawk followed her and closed the door behind him.
GABRIEL HAWK'S LADY Page 9