Escape from Nicaragua

by Stephen Mertz

  "Eva," Loughlin said.

  They looked at him.

  "Eva, dressed like a maid. She could get in and out and tell us where the guns are."

  Mark snapped his fingers. "That'll work." He turned to her. "What do you think?"

  She nodded slowly.

  Loughlin said, "She's not fat enough. She's too goddamn pretty."

  She smiled. "I can make myself look like an ogre." She got up and walked across the room, partly bent over, screwing her face into a grotesque shape. They all laughed as she began to limp and drag one foot.

  Hog said, "She still looks good t'me." He pretended to grab her.

  That afternoon Mora received several drawings of the hotel that had been made by one of the cook's helpers, and they pored over them. The hotel was constructed very much like all large hotels, with a garden patio restaurant and shops. The helper did not know on which floor General Perez would be staying. He would not arrive until the next day. The hotel had eleven floors.

  "What if he's in the penthouse?" Loughlin asked. "Do we take him down eleven floors and through the lobby?"

  Mark had to admit it did not look promising, no matter which floor he stayed on. More and more it seemed to be evident that they would have to squeeze the information out of him and kill him on the spot.

  He had a suspicion that Jorge Mora and the girl had accepted that idea from the start. Perez would be one less enemy. What difference did it make to kill him in a hotel room or out in the fields? The picture of Eva extending her hand with the silenced pistol came stealing into his mind again.

  He saw her looking at him now and again. But hell. It was no good tangling with a woman while a job was in progress.

  Late in the afternoon of the day General Perez was to arrive, Eva went to the hotel. She had rearranged her hair and wore a maid's costume under her shapeless dress. The hotel drawings showed her the servants' entrance, and she found the door unguarded. There were several empty wooden lockers in the maids' room. She folded her dress inside and quickly gathered a stack of towels and began to search the floors.

  General Perez was on the fourth floor. There were soldiers everywhere. These men, she noticed, each wore a white shoulder patch indicating they were an elite unit and were assigned to Perez as bodyguards. When she attempted to enter the floor, two guards confronted her, turned her about, and patted her butt.

  When Eva returned to the factory that night, she had to report that a raid into the hotel would be hopeless. "He has too many guards, all elite troops. I counted more than fifteen on the fourth floor. They were scattered along the hall, with automatic weapons. They were everywhere in the hotel."

  Mora asked, "Did they take over the entire floor?"

  "Yes, in that section. The hotel is built in three sections. Men were even on the roof. There was an armored car in the alley when I left, and one in the street in front of the hotel. Perez has had threats before."

  "He's buttoned up all right," Stone mused. "No telling how many in the rooms with him. The first shot would probably bring a hundred guys."

  "Bloody bad show," Loughlin remarked. "It wouldn't be so hard if we just had to smear the bloke." Hog nodded. "We could get him from a window." Stone shook his head. "We can't kill him, we have to question him. That means we have to have a certain amount of time alone with him."

  "Maybe this is the wrong place, mates." Loughlin put his feet up on a chair. "This guy lives in a steel cocoon."

  "Could we maybe ambush him in his car?" Hog asked.

  Mora shook his head. "They never publish his comings and goings. And we'd have to kill his guards—and maybe him."

  Hog's brow furrowed. "Well, why'd he stay in the goddamn hotel anyways instead of his house?"

  Mora shrugged elaborately. "We don't know. According to the newspapers he's in the city to hold meetings with the President and his advisors. I suspect that because there will be television reporters around, he doesn't want them at the estate."

  "Yeah, I wouldn't," Stone remarked.

  It was frustrating as hell, but Loughlin was probably right. It was the wrong place. They might conceivably get in, but the odds were against them getting out. The kicker was that they had to interview the guy, not kill him. That made it a thousand times more difficult.

  "So that's it?" Hog said. "No go?"

  "No go at the hotel," Loughlin agreed. "Maybe at the estate."

  Stone nodded. "Or maybe this Tela place."

  General Perez was on television that night. They saw it on a small black-and-white set that Mora put on the table, adjusting the rabbit ears to get rid of some of the snow. Perez was shown arriving at the hotel amid cheering people. The arrival had been carefully staged. The elite guards were out of the picture and the armored car was not shown. Perez, smiling like a politician, walked up the steps alone, and Mora remarked, "He's put on weight."

  Perez made a short speech, saying all the usual things; then, with smiling waves at the crowd, he went into the hotel, gone in a glitter of ribbons and medals.

  There were other items about Perez in the newspapers, but they revealed nothing. Mora's people reported that he was still in the hotel. Perez had met with the President and advisers several times. The dining room had been roped off twice so the high officials might dine in peace. It looked as if they were holding a series of discussions. A few foreign diplomats were also present.

  Then, a day later, Jorge Mora received word that General Perez had just been driven, in his distinctive black-and-gold armored limousine with bulletproof glass, to his city estate.

  An old man who looked like a rag picker came to the factory asking for Mora. "He went this morning."

  "Did the guards go with him?"

  "Two carloads as usual." The old man sat down. "Of course there are guards at the estate."

  "How many?"

  "We think about twenty." He looked around at them. "There are dogs, too. Big black ones."

  "Is there a barracks inside the walls?"

  The old man nodded. "The guard is divided into three shifts. About eight men are on duty at a time. The general's wife is there, too."

  "How do you know this?"

  "We have seen her." The old man smiled. "And one of her maids reports to us. Unfortunately, she can only get out of the place once a week."

  "Where are the barracks?"

  "Near the front gate, a long, low temporary building that is very ugly."

  Mora thanked the man and let him go. He then translated the old man's words for them, and Loughlin grinned. "Maybe we'd only have to contend with ten men."

  "And the dogs," Mora reminded them. "They'll be savage."

  "Lemme borrow that silenced pistol," Hog said, "and you can leave the dogs to me."

  Chapter Fourteen

  One of Mora's group had stolen a battered truck. They met it on another street and piled in with Mora, Eva, and two youngsters who were armed to the teeth, gazing at the three norteamericanos with round eyes. Stone wondered what they had heard.

  A bearded young man drove the truck, traversing the city using byways and alleys till Stone was lost, not even sure of directions. Mora said that the police would stop and question them if they were seen. A truck at night, full of men, would be extremely suspicious. It was quite a trick to go through the city without being seen.

  The truck halted in an alley alcove some distance from the estate. They would have to walk the rest of the way, going by ones and twos.

  Jorge Mora led them to the wall. Two other members of the underground group were waiting with wooden ladders, flashing white teeth in the darkness as they stood the ladders against the wall. Stone saw it was made of smooth stone blocks and was about eight feet high. A third member of the group was sitting atop the wall, keeping watch. He grinned down at them.

  Mora said to them, "Run to this place if you have to come out in a hurry. We will have the ladders down on the inside and we will give you covering fire."

  "Gotcha," Hog agreed.

  St
one asked, "Is there a patrol outside the wall?"

  "Yes, but we will be watching. They patrol in a jeep about once an hour." Mora spoke softly to the man on the wall, and he answered, "Es OK."

  Loughlin tested the rungs and went up slowly, as if fearing they would break under his weight. He swung over the wall and dropped to the ground on the other side. Hog was close behind him and Stone followed.

  When Stone dropped to the ground, Loughlin had already moved out, the silenced pistol ready, looking for the expected dogs. Loughlin moved to the left, Hog to the right—and hissed.

  Stone went to one knee. He saw the dogs pass a lighted spot, several blurs of motion, silent and savage.

  He heard Hog's pistol phut, phut, phut . . . and he had an instant to aim at the snarling dog racing at him.

  He fired four times and had an impression of slavering jaws and wild eyes. The animal bucked in the air and brushed against him as Stone slid to one side.

  The dog was as dead as an iron mule.

  It was over in seconds. There had been four dogs. Hog had accounted for two, he and Loughlin one each. No alarm had been raised. They dragged the dogs to a clump of shrubbery and left them.

  There was a brick building to the right with several floodlights illuminating it. Probably servants' quarters, Stone thought. There were no lights on inside that he could see.

  They skirted the lighted areas and came to a wide pool with a multitude of white chairs and tables with colored umbrellas. The pool had a high diving board and a metal-framed canopy that was apparently devised to keep the sun off part of the pool. The estate house sat behind the pool, huge and glassy-eyed, with dim lights on somewhere in the interior.

  "Some folks know how to live," Loughlin commented. "That pool's big enough to have an island in it."

  Stone studied the house. It was two stories, but where was the general's room? None of the windows at the back of the house was lighted. Was he sleeping with his wife? How many guards in the house? Too many questions.

  Loughlin said, "Sssssh," and they dropped to the grass behind a row of flowered shrubs.

  Two guards came around the far side of the house, talking in low tones. One stopped by the pool to light a cigarette. They stood a few moments, one gesturing, then they both laughed as if at a joke. Then they went on slowly and disappeared around the house.

  Stone got up quickly and hurried across the open space between the house and pool, in the direction the guards had come from. Hog touched his arm and pointed upward. There was a portico or deck there. They might get into the house that way.

  Loughlin had gone ahead. He came back in a moment, grinning. He beckoned and they followed him, and he showed them a ladder. Beside it was a stack of red tiles and some sacks. To the right, on a grassy plot, was a large square box that was used for mixing mortar. In it were two shovels.

  Loughlin said softly, "Somebody's fixing the roof."

  The ladder was leaning against the building, and Stone went up it without hesitation, Hog at his heels. He went up two stories and stepped onto a slanting roof that was covered with canvas and tacked down. Hog's knife ripped a long slit in the canvas, and he pulled it away, exposing an attic. A flashlight showed them a shallow area only about four feet high, sloping down to inches. There was a panel door to the left.

  Loughlin pointed to himself and motioned to the door. He stepped down onto a ceiling joist and, walking carefully, moved to the door with Hog behind him.

  Stone stepped down, waiting as Loughlin opened the door a crack, looked back at them, and shook his head.

  There was no one in the room. He stepped through.

  They were in a dark upstairs room that was apparently used as a catch-all. It was filled with boxes and trunks and even several large nailed-up crates. Hog went to the door, turned the knob, and looked out. He closed the door and whispered, "It's a hallway."

  Music was playing from somewhere, they could hear it only faintly. Stone said, "We've got to look in all the rooms. He could be anywhere."

  "Gotcha," Hog said. He opened the door and stepped into the hall. They were in the end room. There were two doors in front of them and a stairway and a window over it at the far end. With the pistol ready, Hog opened the first door. It was a linen closet.

  Stone moved past him to the next door. He put his ear close to the panel, listening. Nothing. He turned the knob silently and opened the door. The room was dark and empty. It smelled stale as if unused for a long period. There was a narrow bed, a chest of drawers, two chairs, and nothing else, very spare. Maybe a servant's room.

  He closed the door and pointed to the stairs, taking a step toward them.

  In that second there was a sudden clanging sound from outside. It was loud and insistent, continuing like a fire alarm, promising to wake the dead.

  Stone turned. "They found the dogs."

  "Shit!" Loughlin said.

  "Sure as shootin'," Hog agreed. "Let's get the fuck outa here."

  They would never in the world get to Perez now. The only thing was to save their skins and try another day. Stone put the pistol away and pulled the Uzi from his back and chambered a round. A little noise wouldn't matter now.

  Loughlin ran to the stairway and started down. Hog paused to switch off a light. He also holstered his pistol and pulled his Uzi around.

  The stairway led down to a hall. They could hear men shouting outside the house. The clamor of the alarm continued, throbbing and beating like a wild thing.

  "They can hear that in Amarillo," Hog commented.

  Someone opened a door away to their left and stared at them in disbelief. Hog snapped a shot at the man, a uniformed guard. It spun him around, and they heard the sounds of crockery breaking.

  A second man appeared in the doorway with an automatic weapon. He fired a quick burst that raked the ceiling above them, showering them with plaster dust.

  Mark fired two shots. One hit the submachine gun and spun it away from the man; the second missed him, went through the wall behind, and a woman screamed.

  Loughlin called, "This way—" They ran down the hall and came to a dark kitchen. Beyond the kitchen Mark could see a wide porchlike area, also dark. Beyond it were bright lights. A man opened the door from the outside and started through. Hog fired quickly, and the man slumped and fell in a heap. A guard behind him fired, spraying the kitchen with bullets that slammed into hanging pots and clanged on metal containers.

  Loughlin opened a door on their right. "This way—come on!"

  It was a smallish bedroom, possibly a cook's room. There was a man in bed, staring at them with round, terrified eyes. Hog ignored him. He picked up a heavy chair and threw it through the window. Then he leaned out and fired at two floodlights, knocking them both out. The yard outside was suddenly dark. Hog changed the clip in his pistol, then jumped through the window and pulled the Uzi off his back. Loughlin and Mark followed. The wall was in front of them, about fifty yards away. There were two heavy trucks parked there, near the servants' quarters.

  As they started toward the trucks several men came around the building to their right and opened fire. Bullets screamed and cracked by them, rapping into the side of the brick building. Hog halted and gave them a long burst with the Uzi. Two melted away and a third dived into the shrubbery.

  But other men ran from the direction of the dark pool. Stone fired quick bursts at them, hearing them yell. One stumbled over a table and went into the pool—table, umbrella, and all.

  Then he was at the wall. Bullets spanged into the gray stones—then fire erupted from its top as Mora and the others fired down at the guards. Glass shattered at the house as windows were shot out.

  The ladders were there as promised, and Hog and Loughlin went up and over. Stone paused atop the wall to empty the Uzi at the trucks, smashing engines and tires. Then he jumped down.

  Mora yelled, "Hurry! They'll have five hundred men here in five minutes!"

  They ran toward the stolen truck.

  The bearded
man had the engine running. The clanging alarm was still pounding out its song as they crammed into the truck and were whirled away.

  The driver took the same circuitous routes, avoiding cars and traveled streets, stopping now and then in the shadows as an automobile went by, then diving into an alley.

  But despite his precautions and skill, they met the weapons carrier at an intersection.

  There were three men in it, all alert, with submachine guns pointing. Probably they had been sent out to look for the raiders. One shouted to them, "Stop the truck!"

  Stone hissed at the bearded driver, "Smash into them!"

  The man yanked the wheel instantly, shoved on the gas pedal, and the truck slammed into the squat weapons carrier as Hog's Uzi stuttered. One man yelled out, and an AK screamed shots over their heads. The force of the collision drove the smaller vehicle sideways, skidding off the road, tilting it up.

  It came down with a great thump, and Loughlin's burst cut the other two men nearly in half. The bearded man backed the truck away and hauled the steering wheel around. The truck's headlights were gone and a piece of metal was rubbing hard on one tire, making a hell of a racket.

  They limped across the intersection. The engine began to steam—probably the radiator had been smashed and they were losing water fast. The driver looked around, "She ain' goin' make it, señores."

  "Bail out," Stone said. "We hike from here."

  They were only a mile from the old factory and arrived without further incident.

  Jorge Mora poured out drinks as they sat in the boarded-up room dejectedly. They had raised a lot of hell, but they had missed Perez. Situation normal, all fucked up.

  "It was a good try," Loughlin said, shrugging. "But I'm beginning to think we'll never catch this guy. He goes to the crapper with a platoon holding the goddamn paper."

  "Orders is orders," Stone remarked. "But sometimes they're impossible. Is Perez the only guy who will know what we have to find out?"

  "Maybe his staff," Jorge said, "and Colonel Villela."

  "And they're just as hard to get to?"

  Jorge nodded unhappily.