Mercenary (16 page)

‘It’s my spare,’ Victor said. ‘The one I’m wearing will go on for ever, anyway.’

Stratton accepted it. ‘Thank you,’ he said, removing it from the box and putting it on.

‘How are you feeling?’ Sebastian asked.

‘Better than I should,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry about the others.’

The old man nodded and they all observed a solemn and quiet moment. Victor broke the silence by reaching for a jug of wine and filling the glass in front of Stratton. ‘There. That’s the best medicine you can have now. It must be good for you. It tastes so goddamned awful.’

Louisa brought a plate of food to Stratton who felt suddenly famished and dug into it.

‘Tell me. Are you from generations of British folk?’ Sebastian asked.

‘I’ve never traced my family tree. But I remember my father seemed to think that we had ancestors who fought at Waterloo.’

‘Which side?’ Victor asked.

‘The winning one . . . sorry, Victor.’

‘No need to apologise. I wasn’t there.’

‘I don’t suppose you know if any of them fought in the Spanish Civil War?’ Sebastian asked.

Stratton gave Louisa a surreptitious look and caught a hint of a smile on her lips. ‘Not that I know of, sir,’ he replied.

‘The British were a great help to my grandfather during the Spanish Civil War. Do you know much of the fight against the fascist, Franco?’

‘Not much,’ Stratton said, wanting to carry on eating but feeling that he should be polite.

‘You should read about that war. You would find it interesting. Almost two and a half thousand of your countrymen volunteered to fight in it. Men and women. All ordinary working-class people. Almost five hundred of them were Jewish.That was before the Second World War had even begun, remember.’

Victor could not ignore the way Louisa was looking at Stratton. He detected a new connection between them. There was certainly none of the conflict that had existed before.

A large painting on the wall caught Stratton’s attention. It was a battle scene, a panorama of explosions and of men on horseback.

‘It’s from one of the battles of the Jarama Valley,’ Louisa said as if reading his thoughts.

Stratton shook his head, none the wiser.

‘The painting belonged to my father,’ Sebastian said. ‘He was there . . . not fighting, of course. He was only six years old. Some say it was the last great cavalry charge in Western Europe. You see the white horse in the centre?’

Stratton nodded as he studied the painting more closely. The horsemen were led by a man on a powerful white horse, all charging towards a river with defensive positions beyond.

‘That was his father. My grandfather. Louisa’s great-grandfather. My father watched him die that day. He led five hundred horsemen. Flesh and blood charging tanks and machine guns. It was described as a foolish act by many. They rode without the support of artillery. Sixty per cent of them were cut down before they were even halfway to their objective. My grandfather was not one of the first to die even though he was at the head of the charge. All those around him were killed or wounded but he rode on alone, regardless. Who knows why? Perhaps it was the madness of battle. I like to think it was an act of defiance, a message to the Nationalists. He wanted them to know they would not take the valley while men like him still held it. He was right in that, at least. The Republicans had lost many battles in that war but they denied Franco the valley and, in so doing, Madrid too. We lost the war but not our pride.’

There was silence while everyone saw obvious parallels between that war and this.

Sebastian got to his feet. ‘I have work to do so I’m going to bid you all goodnight,’ he said.

‘Goodnight,’ Stratton said, getting to his feet and offering his hand.

Sebastian took it as a final goodbye and smiled. ‘I hope to see you again,’ he said. He shook hands with Stratton and left.

Silence hung in the air only to be broken by the sound of a sudden downpour outside.

‘This chicken is very good,’ Stratton said as he sat back down.

‘I thought it was rabbit,’ Victor said.

‘It’s guinea fowl,’ Louisa stated.

Victor raised his hands in disgust at his lost ability to recognise a taste. ‘I am no longer French.’ He took a cigar from his pocket and lit it, blowing the smoke at the ceiling. ‘Marlo has left us,’ he said matter-of-factly.

Louisa saw the implications of the news immediately. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked.

‘With his two lieutenants, Carlo and Fernandez.’

‘When?’

‘Yesterday. After the explosions,’ Victor said.

‘Why?’

Victor shrugged. ‘He does not confide in me.’

‘But you must have your suspicions.’

‘Marlo is the kind of man who would jump from a ship if it was taking water before going below to see if he could fix it.’

‘Do you think he had anything to do with the booby trap?’ Louisa asked.

Victor shrugged again as he drew on his cigar. ‘My gut reaction is no. Marlo was never really one of us but I don’t think he would do anything like that.’

‘Where would they go?’ Louisa asked.

‘Perhaps they are waiting to see what happens.’

‘I didn’t trust him anyway.’

‘That’s not the point,’ Victor said. ‘He was respected by many of the men as a good field officer. It will affect morale. Many have had cause to lose confidence these past few days.’

‘Have you told Sebastian?’ Louisa asked as she removed some plates from the table and took them into the kitchen.

‘I was going to tell him tonight. I’ll leave it until tomorrow. It doesn’t make much difference. We are set on our course. People will either come with us or get off the bus.’

There was a loud knock on the door.

‘I’ll go,’ Victor said, getting to his feet.

As soon as he opened the door a jovial voice boomed ‘Victor!’

Victor was mildly shocked. ‘Colonel Steel.’ He stepped back to let the man in. ‘This is a surprise.’

‘Good to see you again. How’ve you been?’ Steel asked as he walked in, his hat and poncho dripping all over the floor. He was a big man and looked even larger in his cloak and headgear. He removed his hat to reveal his thick head of white hair. ‘Louisa!’ he cried, grinning broadly as if he were a much-missed uncle. He reached for her hand, pulled her towards him and gave her a kiss on each cheek.

Louisa smiled politely while trying to disguise her discomfort. ‘This is indeed a pleasant surprise.’

‘You look even more beautiful, if that’s possible.’ When he saw Stratton, Steel did not look remotely surprised at the operative’s presence. ‘You still here, Stratton? I thought you’d be on your way back to good old Blighty by now.’

Stratton forced a smile of his own.

‘Well, this is all nice and cosy. Do you mind if I join you?’ Steel asked, tossing his hat on a chair by the door.

‘You know you’re always welcome,’ Louisa said.

‘And I come bearing gifts, as usual, but this time of the edible kind.’ Steel dumped his poncho on the chair too. A leather bag hung around his shoulder. He opened it and took out a bottle of red wine which he handed to Victor and a brown paper package that he gave to Louisa. ‘Cheese,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what kind but they served it after dinner last night in the city and I had to bring some for you because it tasted so good.’

Victor inspected the wine label and, none the wiser, set about opening it.

‘Christ, it’s raining out there,’ Steel declared, vigorously warming his hands at the fire. ‘I tell ya, I’ve been in some deluges before but I swear this country takes some beatin’ when it comes to surprise cloud-bursts. Where’s the old man?’

‘He’s retired for the evening.’

‘Retired? Well, get ’im up. Steel’s here. And if that’s not a good enough reason tell ’im we got things to talk about that can’t wait till morning.’ Steel had a huge grin across his wide face as he sat down. ‘Mind if I help myself ?’ he asked, looking at the food. ‘Been a long road,’ he said, reaching for a hunk of bread and some meat and filling a glass from the wine jug. ‘I got a ride along that highway a dozen klicks east of here. Then I got myself a mule the rest of the way. I hate walkin’ if I don’t have to and I haven’t had to in a while,’ he said, laughing as he filled his mouth. ‘Excuse my appetite but I haven’t had a good meal all day.’

Victor found the wine palatable. ‘The government troops patrol that road,’ he said.

‘Sure do. Not as well as they should, though.’

‘What do you tell them when they stop you?’

‘Hell, I’m an American tourist.’ Steel laughed. Then his face took on a slightly more serious expression. ‘They know who I am, Victor. You think I don’t talk to them too? Just remember, it’s you people I’m behind.’

He looked around the room, stopping at the painting of the Jarama Valley battle. ‘Sebastian tell you about his grandpappy?’ he asked Stratton.

‘A little.’

‘Did he tell you that’s somethin’ we have in common? In the Spanish Civil War my grandpa was a member of an American volunteer force, the Abraham Lincoln Bridgade - fought alongside Sebastian’s grandpa. Hell, we got our asses well and truly handed to us at that party. Lost more’n half our men. My father told me something my grandpa once said about the Jarama Valley scrap. When it was over, those who survived said they figured out why their brigade was named after Abraham Lincoln. Because he got assassinated too.’ Steel burst out laughing.

Stratton tried to smile politely. But there was something about Steel that he just did not like and the more the man talked, the stronger his hostile feelings became. He could not believe Steel was so thick-skinned that he did not know when people were uncomfortable around him.

‘So. How they been treatin’ you?’ Steel glanced only briefly at Stratton as he asked him the question. ‘How’s the training comin’ along? I thought you’d be done and gone two days ago.’

‘Stratton’s lucky to be alive,’ Victor said.

‘Come again?’ Steel asked. He looked worried but there was no way of knowing if his expression was genuine.

‘A box of your weapons was booby-trapped. Two of my men are dead, one may not make it and another is seriously hurt.’

‘I don’t believe it!’ Steel exclaimed. ‘When’d this happen?’

‘Yesterday,’ Victor said.

‘Holy cow. You okay?’ Steel asked Stratton, scrutinising him in case he had missed any obvious physical injury.

‘I’ll be fine.’

‘You said booby-trapped. How?’

‘Classic grenade set-up,’ Stratton explained.

‘You’re shittin’ me. Do we know who did it?’

Victor shook his head.

‘Did we lose everything?’

‘We still have sixty per cent of what you sent us.’

‘Wow,’ Steel muttered, getting up to take a turn around the room and looking as if the news had sickened him.

Stratton watched him, wondering if any of his reactions were genuine. He looked like a ham actor who was doing an unusually fine job. It was hard to tell since he did not know Steel well enough. But the display of concern seemed out of character.

The door at the end of the room opened and Sebastian stepped through, together with Louisa.

‘Colonel Steel,’ Sebastian said. ‘Good to see you again.’

Steel turned on the charm. ‘Sebastian.’ He walked over and gave the rebel leader a bear hug. ‘It’s good to see you too. You’re looking great. Hey, I just heard about the explosion yesterday. That’s crazy. We’ve never had anything like that before. Are we looking at government infiltration or something else?’

Sebastian turned away and sat in his chair. ‘Sit. Please.’

Steel sat opposite him.

‘It was probably inevitable that something like this would happen,’ Sebastian said. ‘I’m surprised it did not happen sooner—’

‘Wait a minute,’ Steel interrupted. ‘Sebastian. Excuse me, but I need to be clear on one thing first. Was this internal politics or not?’

‘I don’t know. It’s possible.’

‘Hector?’

‘I would not point a finger at anyone right now,’ Sebastian said.

Steel sat back and stared thoughtfully at the older man, his thoughts appearing to run in several directions. ‘I wanna summarise where we are right now. Do you mind? I need to get my bearings back about all this. You’ve got problems. That means the rebellion’s got problems. There’s a power struggle going on. It looks to me as if you’re being isolated. Would you say that was fair?’

‘I would not argue with that assessment. But it lacks depth.’

‘I know. Sorry. I’m just trying to synopsise it. Before we can come up with a strategy we have to be sure of the ground and the threat. Look, I’ll be honest. I knew a lot about these issues before I got here. It’s part of the reason I’m here. I didn’t know about the attack, though, the booby trap. But it falls in with the symptoms.’

The others were all watching Steel without interrupting him. He was an assertive, overpowering individual, but it wasn’t just that. Any implied or open criticism of what he had to say would simply provoke a diatribe in which he would insist that his personal support and that of his country was the key to the rebellion’s success and that therefore whatever he said was gospel. To be spared that tedious rhetoric people tended not to question him. Yet there was no denying that he did provide substantial aid and political leverage and so he could not be ignored. An air of suspicion hung about him like a mist, nonetheless.

‘Can I throw a theory out there?’ Steel asked.

Sebastian gestured to him to go ahead.

‘Okay. This is classic. You know it, I’m sure. It’s how I see it, anyway. You have five powers, all supposedly equal, your five brigades. They remain even, more or less, because of that balance, that equality. So how do you get rid of one of them, for whatever reason? Say you don’t like a particular commander any more. Doesn’t matter why. He doesn’t like you, you disagree on policy - whatever. This strategy goes back to the Wars of the Roses and beyond. How do you get rid of him without the others punishing you for stepping out of line? The answer’s simple. You need them on your side against him. To achieve that you get them to fear him. One way to do that is to make him stronger than you and the others. It’s difficult for him to resist as well. I mean, everyone wants to be top dog. But it upsets the balance. And what happens? The others turn on him. They band together in order to be able to destroy the one who’s become the strongest. And the one secretly manipulating everything, well, he gets what he wants, which is to get rid of him. I think that’s what’s happening here. Someone made you a threat to the others. And now they are banding together to bring you down.’ ‘Hector?’ Victor muttered.