Escape from Nicaragua

by Stephen Mertz

  Antonio rubbed his eyes and stared at them. "Who are you?"

  Stone said, "We have some questions for you."

  "I cannot answer any questions."

  "Well, of course, that's up to you. But we are serious and in somewhat of a hurry. We don't want to hurt you, but if it comes down to it, we will have to."

  Antonio looked from one man to the other and sighed deeply. "What kind of questions?"

  "We want to know where the norteamericano C.I.A. agents have been taken and held."

  "Ahhh," Antonio said, nodding his head. "That is it."

  "Yes. That is it."

  "Why do you think I would know?"

  Stone said, "You have put us through a lot of trouble. Let's not fence with answers. We know you have them. Where are the agents?"

  Antonio looked at the floor. "And if I tell you—then what?"

  "You will be held here until we find out if you have told us the truth. But if you give us trouble, we will not tell your wife that you are alive." Stone smiled. "You might not be."

  "And if I tell you, you will tell her?"

  "Of course. We make no war on her. Did we annoy her tonight?"

  Antonio nodded. "I see."

  "Where are the agents?"

  "Give me a moment to think . . ."

  Stone sat opposite the man, waiting. Antonio looked at him, at Loughlin, and at Hog. Then he seemed to sigh again, as if he realized his bargaining position was not strong. Hog took the magazine from his pistol, examined it, and put it back in with a sharp click.

  Antonio said, "They are at a camp called Lerida. It is in the jungle."

  "We have a map." Stone motioned for it, then spread it out. He handed Antonio a pencil. The young man studied the map for a moment, then drew a circle.

  "It is here."

  "Have you been there?"

  Antonio shook his head.

  "What kind of a camp?"

  "To my knowledge it is only a small place, but isolated. The Russians—" Antonio stopped.

  "There are Soviets there?"

  "I am told so."

  "How many? Are they troops or advisers . . . ?"

  "No troops, or very few. It is all I know."

  They put him in one of the small rooms and locked the door. Mora and Eva had heard what Antonio had said.

  Mora told them, "I have never heard of this Lerida."

  "It may be a kind of Devil's Island, stuck out in the jungle to make it difficult for anyone to escape from."

  Stone studied the map. "There are no roads shown near it."

  Eva asked, "Is he telling the truth?"

  Stone shrugged. "Probably. What would he gain—a few days? He knows we'll find out soon."

  "But he gave in too easily . . . didn't he?"

  Mora interjected, "He's not his father. He's not a fighter. I think he saw we had all the cards. Or all the guns."

  Stone asked Mora, "Can your people find out anything about Lerida?"

  Before he could answer, Eva said, "My people can. I come from that area."

  "How do you get word to them?"

  She smiled. "We have a grapevine, señor."

  "That gal's got ever'thing," Hog said with appreciation. She batted her eyes at him.

  "Then the next thing," Stone said, "is to get us out of the city." He spoke directly to the girl. "Will you guide us, beautiful?"

  She laughed prettily. "Only if Hog goes with us."

  Hog rolled his eyes. "Honey, I'd follow you down the barrel of a goddamn cannon."

  "After that," Loughlin remarked, "he'll make you an honorary Texan."

  Colonel Francisco Villela put down the telephone with deliberation, then sat a moment, looking at the opposite wall, seeing nothing. Antonio Perez had been kidnapped.

  How could he tell the general? Well, Perez would have to be told. He thumped his fist on the desk. Four men killed, one wounded, and no one alive could tell him what the raiders even looked like! It had apparently been a very smooth, professional operation, and nearly silent. The wounded man had stated he'd heard only one shot inside the house, and yet they'd found three bodies there.

  Was this the same group who had raided the general's estate? There were certain similarities . . . except that at the estate they were sure the raiders had come to kill General Perez.

  The nerve of men who would kidnap the son of Genera! Perez! Was it for information? Yes, it must be. What else? Antonio was really a rather shy young man, nothing at all like his pugnacious father. The general was aggressive where Antonio was reasonable.

  Well, get about it. Villela pushed a button, and in a moment his chief aide came through the door, closing it behind him.

  "This is confidential for the moment," Villela said. "Antonio has been kidnapped."

  The aide swore under his breath. "Rebels?"

  "Undoubtedly. First get me the general at Tela. I will have to inform him."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then . . . I expect we will get a ransom note. Be on the lookout."

  The aide nodded. "When did this happen, sir?"

  "Last night. One hurt, four guards killed."

  "Isn't Antonio's wife expecting?"

  "That's why he was home." Villela paused. "Who would know that Antonio stayed with her?"

  "Probably a dozen people, sir."

  Villela fiddled with a pencil. "Ask the security people to look into it. Give them names if you can."

  "Yes sir. At once." The aide went out.

  He called the chief of security immediately and went to his office on the next floor. His visit was urgent and he was admitted without a wait. The chief was a man in his fifties, stout and mustached, a lieutenant colonel of long service. He was in civilian clothes. He rose at the aide's entrance and came around the desk to shake hands. "How nice to see you, Nicolas. How can I serve the general?"

  Nicolas closed the door. "This is confidential, Colonel. Antonio has been kidnapped. Colonel Villela thinks it was rebels, but a professional group. They took him at his house last night."

  The chief snapped his fingers. "And the guards?"

  "One wounded, three killed."

  "What did the wounded man see?"

  Nicolas shook his head. "You'd better ask him yourself."

  "Yes, I will. Has there been a ransom note or call?"

  "Not yet."

  The chief's brow knotted. "First an attack on the general's estate, and now Antonio has been kidnapped. Isn't that curious? Do you suppose they were after Antonio at the estate and not the general?"

  Nicolas spread his hands. "This is your department, Chief. I am not a detective."

  "Hmmmm." The chief went back around the desk and picked a paper off it. "By the way, I've just received a report from one of our sparrows that there is suspicious activity at an old factory building . . ."

  Nicolas waved his hand. "Put that aside. We must get Antonio back as soon as possible. General Perez will be furious! And you know his anger . . ."

  The chief nodded. "I know it well."

  "Then I leave it in your hands. Colonel Villela wants you to interview all those who knew Antonio was staying with his wife last night."

  "She is about to have a child?"

  "Yes."

  Antonio would have gone to Tela but for that Nicolas went to the door. "Good luck, Colonel."

  When Nicolas had gone, the chief called in Captain Reynaldo Lopes, a stocky chunk of man, brown and weathered, with big veiny hands. He handed Lopes the paper.

  "This needs investigation."

  "An old factory building? Sí, I know the place. It's been rusting for years. You think someone lives there?"

  "The sparrows say so. Put it on your list."

  Lopes nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll send a squad of men there."

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was decided they would leave the city that night, heading into the eastern mountains where Lerida was said to be. It was also decided, over Eva's protests, that the little red VW would have to be left behind
. It would carry them all, as it had before, but an enemy would be instantly suspicious of a car so bulging full of bodies.

  Paulo and his friends, Mora said, would steal a car to take them partway. Paulo and the bearded man were without peer when it came to making an automobile disappear.

  "We will move the red VW to the new location near the machine shop," Mora said to Eva. "It will be here when you return."

  "What machine shop?" Loughlin asked.

  "I told you before we were intending to move from the factory. We have prepared another place in an unused machine shop a mile from here. We will move in a week or so."

  Paulo appeared after dark to go with Eva, to show her where the VW would be kept. He promised to be back before midnight with a car.

  They spent an hour with their packs, putting in a few tins of food each, ammo, and necessities. It was decided to leave the four remaining grenades with Mora. He would have more use for them than they. Then they got some sleep.

  Stone was awakened by Mora tugging at his sleeve. "Shhhh. Wake your friends. We may have visitors."

  He pushed Hog and Loughlin and rolled off the cot and into his pack. He slung the AK and the Uzi over his back and drew the silenced Walther. When he went to the door, Hog was right behind him. "What is it?" He looked at his watch. It was very late.

  "I dunno. Jorge says visitors."

  Morn had Antonio, hands tied behind his back, in the larger room, in the dark.

  Hog asked, "Where's Eva?"

  "Down in the lower floor, keeping watch. Come on, follow me." He went down the steps quickly with Antonio at his heels. When he came close, Stone could see that Antonio was also gagged to keep him from calling out.

  At the lower door Mora became a shadow. He slipped along the wall to his right, his face a pale blur as he turned back to see that they followed. When he stopped, Eva was suddenly there.

  "Men are surrounding the factory," she whispered. "Paulo and I spotted them when we returned. I sent them away."

  "How many men?" Stone asked.

  She shook her head.

  Mora said, "We prepared for this long ago. We have a way out. Follow me."

  As he spoke there was a soft splintering sound from behind them. Mora said, "They're coming in the door. Get down—get down—" He pulled the pin on one of the grenades, let the handle up for several seconds, and tossed it.

  The explosion lit up the room for a second. There were shrieks, then an unnatural silence.

  But in the next second another shadow appeared at the door and an AK burst chattered over their heads.

  Hog extended his arm and fired three times with the silenced pistol. The doorway was clear.

  Mora growled, "Come on, come on—"

  From the far end of the huge factory room, someone fired and the shots rapped on the wall near them, stitching rows of holes. Stone aimed as carefully as he could in the dark and returned the fire, aiming at the flashes. Someone yelled. The firing grew more intense.

  Stone emptied the silenced pistol and rammed in another magazine. Hog was firing to his right, and Mora growled at them, "Come on—"

  Loughlin pulled the pin on another grenade and heaved it toward the end of the huge room. They lay flat as the explosion pounded the echoes—the firing suddenly stopped.

  Stone said, "Let's get outa here!"

  They charged after Mora and the girl. Hog pushed Antonio along and they slipped through a narrow opening into a debris-filled area. Mora winked a flashlight. "This way—"

  They crossed the littered area and ducked into a low shed, and Mora's flashlight winked at them again. A board was pulled from a wall. When Stone went through, he pushed it shut again.

  They were suddenly in the next street.

  Someone was firing in the factory, and Hog laughed. "Hope they's shootin' at each other."

  A battered truck came along the street and stopped, and Paulo grinned at them. Mora pushed Antonio into the cab and followed. The others piled in the back under a canvas top, and the truck took off.

  "Slick as a greased weasel," Hog said with satisfaction.

  Stone said, "Somebody knew we were in the old factory."

  "The government pays hundreds of spies and informers," Eva replied. "Jorge knew we could not stay there long."

  When the truck stopped again, Jorge Mora and Antonio got out and Eva slid into the cab beside Paulo. They had only a moment to say good-byes—then Paulo put the truck in gear and they rumbled on. They made a dozen turns, crossing larger streets, wound through hills, and finally stopped.

  Eva got out, slinging an AK over her shoulder. "We walk from here, amigos. There are checkpoints. Paulo will have to go back."

  "OK," Stone said. "Gracias, Paulo."

  "OK," Paulo said, sticking his thumb up, grinning at them. He turned the truck around, and they watched it disappear in the gloom.

  Eva seemed to know every millimeter of the hills. She led them by winding, twisting paths around a checkpoint and into the forest east of the city.

  Two hours later, when they halted for a breather, she said, "We are safe now. Let us take a compass reading."

  Stone quickly set a course toward the east, and they walked another hour before halting to make a dry camp.

  Reynoldo Lopes, with his shirt off, stood in front of a mustachioed campesino who was tied hand and foot to a stout wooden chair. They were in the basement of the security building near the edge of the city. Lopes lashed out with a leather whip. The slash left a red welt across the prisoner's cheek.

  The man moaned, shaking his head as if drowning. Lopes growled, "You are a fool! Tell me and the beating will stop."

  "I have—told—you."

  "You have told me only that three norteamericanos have left the city after kidnapping Antonio Perez." Lopes cracked the whip.

  Wincing, the prisoner groaned. "It is all I know, señor."

  Lopes lashed out again and blood spurted from the red weals. "Where did they go?"

  "I do not know! Maybe—to—the east."

  "Why would they go to the east?"

  Miserably the prisoner shook his head. "They did not tell me."

  Lopes frowned at the man, tossed the whip to an aide, and went out and up the steps. Why would the americanos go to the east? To the west was the ocean. Maybe if they took Antonio to the east it was to an already arranged helicopter base. All of Nicaragua was to the east. . . .

  He went to a telephone and talked to Colonel Villela, telling him what the prisoner had said. An all-out search was ordered.

  They were up at daybreak, listening to the drone of aircraft. In an hour, helicopters came beating their way, moving back and forth. . . .

  "You figure they's searching for us?" Hog said.

  "They're looking for something." Loughlin squinted at them. "How d'they know we're here?"

  "Somebody talked," Stone mused. "Maybe they think we've got Antonio Perez with us."

  Eva agreed. "We must leave this area. There will be soldiers everywhere before dark."

  She led them toward the north, staying in the shelter of the trees, lying flat when choppers came close. When they reached a ridge in the afternoon, they could look back with the binoculars and see helicopters landing men. Evidently a Class A search was under way. Stone wondered if General Perez was leading it in person. It was likely. Chances were he'd be raging.

  When they halted again in the middle of the evening, they spread out the map in a deep ravine and, using a flashlight, decided they were some ninety miles from the circle Antonio had drawn on the map.

  The area should not be lousy with soldiers, Stone offered. Who knew they were on their way to Lerida? Jorge Mora was the only other person in the world who knew—and Antonio, of course.

  "What about Paulo?" Hog asked.

  "He knew only that we were leaving the city," Eva told him. "But I doubt if they can catch him. He is very slippery."

  The next day the forest turned into jungle. They seemed to have left the search behind a
s they swung east again.

  Nikol Volcheck was late arriving from Moscow. His jet landed near dark and he was whisked to a hotel with his staff and briefed by several K.G.B. agents as he ate in his suite.

  He grunted, hearing that the general's son had been kidnapped by guerrilla fighters. "Why did they take him?"

  "We do not know. Even Colonel Villela does not know who took him or where he is now. A large-scale search is under way to recover him."

  "Very curious . . ." Volcheck sipped vodka and lit a cigarette. "Is it not odd that they kidnapped him instead of simply killing him?"

  "They want information from him. He is his father's chief of staff."

  "Ahhhh. What information?"

  His aides and the K.G.B. men shrugged. "It could be anything. It could be simply to hold him for ransom—but no note has surfaced."

  "Well, that is their business. Let us get on with ours. Where are the agents being held?"

  "They were taken to a base in the jungle, sir. It is a remote place—"

  "But hot and humid?"

  "I am afraid so, sir. Yes. It is necessary to go there by helicopter. There is a road, but it is miserable."

  "Very well. Make the arrangements."

  It was slow going; they could not see the sun and had to rely on compass readings. Also, it was difficult to estimate how far they had traveled. Stone feared they might go past Lerida and never see it.

  "That's right," Loughlin agreed. "We might come out on the goddamn Caribbean any minute."

  Hog said in a low voice, "Movement." He pointed and went to one knee, glancing at Stone. "Right through there."

  "Spread out," Stone said softly. "Easy . . ." Had they met a Sandinista patrol? This was a good region for one.

  Eva, beside him, whispered, "They could be Indians . . ."

  They were motionless for long minutes and saw nothing more.

  Stone stood slowly, his Uzi at the ready. He heard only the ordinary sounds of the jungle. When there were no sounds, that was when danger lurked.

  "Keep spread out," he told them. They had probably met an Indian hunter, and he had faded into the jungle after looking them over.

  Eva led them into a narrow valley that wound like a snake for several miles. They crossed a large burned area that looked, in the center, as if a huge explosion had taken place not long past. Maybe a flier had jettisoned bombs . . .