Passage by Night (v5) (15 page)

17
The Green Light

As the
Grace Abounding
moved out of harbour and turned into the gulf, Manning glanced back over his shoulder and watched the lights of Spanish Cay fade into the darkness. For the moment, there was nothing to be done. The big black leaned in the corner of the wheelhouse, the barrel of his submachine gun resting across his forearm, and a third man squatted in the stern holding a rifle.

After a while, the door opened and Viner came in. 'You can wait outside, Charlie. I don't think Mr Manning will do anything foolish.'

'I wouldn't be too sure about that,' Manning said as he moved out.

'Oh, but I am. Hans has orders to open fire at the first sign of trouble on deck. I'm sure you realize the damage even a single burst from his submachine gun would inflict in the confined space of the cabin.'

'So you win for the moment,' Manning said. 'Where do we go from here?'

Viner leaned over the chart table. 'Jackson Cay, about ten miles off the southern tip of Cat Island. Do you know it?'

'I've been near it a time or two, that's all. I heard it was owned by some American millionaire.'

'So it was a year or two back. Cigarette?'

There seemed no point in refusing and Manning leaned forward for the proffered light. The northwest trades blowing across the gulf carried some of the warmth of day through the open window. There was no moon and yet the sky seemed to be alive, aglow with the incandescence of millions of stars.

Viner breathed deeply, inhaling the freshness, and followed with his eyes a school of flying fish as they curved out of the sea in a shower of phosphorescent water.

'You know, Harry, on a night like this it's good to be alive.' He sounded as if he genuinely meant it.

Manning shook his head. 'There are times when I'm almost convinced you're human.'

'My dear fellow, there's nothing personal in any of this. I hope you realize that. You were foolish enough to get mixed up in something that wasn't really any of your business and you've lost rather badly, that's all.'

'Aren't you forgetting Maria and Jimmy Walker?'

Viner sighed and shrugged helplessly. 'A regrettable necessity and certainly not of my choosing.'

'I'll bet it wasn't. How did you get on to me so quickly?'

Viner's teeth gleamed in the darkness. 'I've had Morrison's room wired for sound from the moment he arrived. I sat in my office and listened to every word you said to him. If you're hoping for help from Nassau you can forget it. I'm afraid he never even got out of the hotel after leaving you.'

'And Orlov?'

'Quite simple. A phone call from the reception clerk to say that you wanted him to meet you at the boat as soon as possible.'

He was right. It had been simple. Too damned simple and Manning swallowed the black anger that erupted inside him and forced himself to consult the chart.

'You seem to have it all neatly worked out.'

'I think so. Is there anything I've overlooked?'

'What happens at the other end?'

Viner smiled. 'I'm afraid you'll have to wait for the answer to that one.' He opened the door and said to Charlie, 'Tell Paco I want him.'

The native waved to the man in the stern who came forward at once. 'What's the idea?' Manning said.

'It's a clear run to Jackson Cay now. Paco can take the wheel for a while. You can go back to your friends. I'll call you when I need you. Go with him, Charlie.'

Manning walked along the deck and went below. Seth and Anna were making coffee and Hans sat against the wall beside the entrance to the gallery, his finger crooked in the trigger guard of his submachine gun.

Manning ignored him and crouched beside Papa Melos. 'How's it going, Papa?'

The old man looked better than he had since San Juan. 'I'll make out, boy. Don't worry about me.'

Manning clapped Seth on the shoulder and moved across to Orlov and Morrison. 'Anyone got a cigarette?'

Morrison produced a pack and held it out. 'Rather battered, but still smokable.'

He was very pale and Manning noticed a livid bruise on the side of his neck. 'Looks like you got careless.'

The American nodded. 'For once.'

Manning turned to Orlov. 'What about you? Viner said anything?'

'The usual things. If I'm a good boy and do as I'm told, they'll make things easy for me.'

'A fair offer under the circumstances.'

'I know it is.' Orlov sighed heavily. 'The trouble is it's always been a policy of mine never to go back to anything.'

Seth brought the coffee in from the galley and Anna followed with a plate of sandwiches. As she leaned across to put them in the centre of the table, Hans ran his hand up her leg. She turned and struck him blindly and he grabbed her wrist and twisted it, forcing her to one knee.

Before Manning could move, Orlov was on his feet. 'Take your hand off her, you pig!'

He moved forward and Hans pushed the girl away and raised the submachine gun. 'Another step and I fill your belly.'

'Go ahead!' Orlov laughed harshly and extended his arms. 'Viner will like that. I'll be so useful when I'm dead.'

The German's forehead was beaded with sweat and his tongue flickered over dry lips. 'Sit down and shut up.'

'Better do as he says, mister,' Charlie called from the companionway. 'I could always lay the barrel of this thing across the side of your head.'

Orlov ignored him, extending his hand to Anna and sat her at the table. He smiled down. 'No repetition, I promise you.'

Manning was conscious of a sudden irrational jealousy as she smiled warmly at the Russian. And yet he had no right. No right at all. He went to the table for coffee and returned to his seat.

For a little while Orlov sat beside her and they talked in low voices and then he yawned, moved across to the other bench seat beside Seth and her father, and leaned back, eyes closed.

Manning folded his arms and let his head tilt forward. It was quiet in the cabin except for the rush of the water against the hull and he sat there feeling strangely fatalistic about everything. He was on a course already charted and there could be no going back. The ultimate end of things was something none of them could avoid.

Anna bowed her head on her arms. For quite some time he thought she was sleeping and then she turned her head sideways and opened her eyes. She stared at him unwinkingly, one arm still flat on the table shielding her from Hans. Very gently, she opened the map drawer with her free hand.

In that same moment Manning remembered the Smith & Wesson. He caught a brief glimpse of the revolver as she took it out and placed it on her lap. She unfastened the front of her dress, slipped the revolver inside and buttoned it again.

She stared at him steadily the whole time and fear moved inside him like a cold knife. He shook his head gently. For the time being, the gun was useless. If either Hans or Charlie had cause to open up with their submachine guns, the cabin would be reduced to a bloody shambles within seconds.

A voice called down the companionway and Charlie got to his feet and nodded to Manning. 'Mr Viner wants you.'

The deck was wet with spray and Viner stood at the rail looking across to the dim bulk of Cat Island. He turned as Manning approached.

'Not too long now, Harry. I'd like you to take over again. Paco has his limitations. I'll direct you when the time comes.'

Manning went into the wheelhouse and the Cuban moved out. In spite of the fact that there was no moon, visibility was surprisingly good and he could clearly pick out each cay and island his finger moved to as he checked the chart.

They sailed between two small islands and beyond lay the larger bulk of Jackson Cay. Viner moved in from the deck. 'You'll see an intermittent green light. Follow it in, but slowly. It's a narrow channel.'

Manning reduced speed and coasted in towards the cay. There was a house high up on the clifftop and then he saw the green light winking through the darkness beneath it.

'We're getting pretty close to that cliff,' he said.

'The channel runs into a large cave,' Viner told him. 'There's nothing to worry about. Just follow the light.'

Rocks loomed high on either side, there was a sudden turbulence and then they passed in through a dark archway. The green light was fixed to the end of a stone jetty and was obviously operated by a timing device. There was only one other boat in sight, a forty-foot diesel launch painted cream with a red stripe running along the waterline. As Manning ran the
Grace Abounding
alongside, Paco jumped for the jetty with a line.

Manning cut the engines, moved out on deck and was immediately conscious of the terrible coldness of the damp air.

'After you?' Viner said and gestured over the rail.

As Manning stepped onto the jetty, the others came up from the cabin and joined him. A flight of stone steps lifted out of the gloom to a landing above their heads and he wearily mounted them at Viner's heels.

At the top, the German opened a door which led into a stone-flagged passage. He led the way to the far end, opened another door and climbed a short flight of steps which entered directly into a large hall.

It was tastefully furnished with carpets on the floor and dark oak-panelled walls. Viner opened another door and entered. There were two men in the room, both obviously Cuban. One sat at a shortwave transmitting set, earphones clamped to his head, the other was behind a desk writing. He got to his feet and smiled.

'So, you have managed to gather them all in?' he said in Spanish. 'Any problems?'

Viner replied in the same language. 'It was really quite simple, my dear Vargas. We got the American before he was able to communicate with British Intelligence in Nassau. Does the colonel wish to see them?'

Vargas shook his head. 'Only Senor Manning. For the time being, the others can go below. See to it, will you?'

As Viner turned and gave Hans and Charlie the necessary orders, Vargas moved across the room and opened another door, went inside and closed it. A few moments later, he returned.

'This way, Senor Manning.'

As Manning moved forward, Viner made to follow him and Vargas shook his head. 'Not necessary, Viner. The colonel wishes to see Senor Manning alone.'

Viner shrugged and turned away and Manning went inside. As the door closed behind him, he had a brief impression of a large, comfortable room, the walls lined with books and a fire that crackled cheerfully on a wide stone hearth.

In that same moment, the walls started to undulate and he breathed deeply, fighting the darkness that moved in on him, threatening to drive every last shred of sanity out of his mind. But when the mist cleared, he found that his eyes hadn't deceived him.

It was Maria Salas who sat behind the desk on the far side of the room.

18
The Purpose of Terrorism is to Terrorize

Behind her, the wall was of curved glass and he was aware of little things. The sound of the sea rushing in across the rocks, the scent of hibiscus from the garden.

'Better have a drink, Harry,' she said. 'You look as if you could do with it.'

There were several bottles and glasses on a side table and he helped himself to a large rum. He emptied the glass in one quick swallow, filled it again and turned to look at her.

She wore a military-style drill shirt open at the neck and narrow khaki pants. Her hair was tied back with a red ribbon, the one concession to femininity, and her face was smooth and untroubled as she returned his gaze gravely.

'I must say you're looking remarkably healthy,' he said, dropping into the chair on the other side of the desk.

'More than I can say for you,' she replied. 'Hardly surprising under the circumstances. A lot seems to have happened since we were last together.'

'In bed as I recall,' Manning said dryly. 'Viner kept referring to a colonel when we were outside. Would that be you?'

'I'm a lieutenant-colonel of the Military Intelligence Special Executive of the Cuban Army,' she said calmly. 'Group leader for the Bahamas.'

'Since the beginning?' he said. 'Since the day I picked you up out in the gulf in that refugee boat?'

That's right.'

'And Viner?'

'It was easy enough to draw him into the net after I discovered his background.'

'And what about me?' he said. 'Where did I fit in?'

'You also had your uses, Harry.'

He frowned for a moment and then realized what she had meant. 'Of course, good old Sanchez and the letters I passed on to him for your mother.'

'One can't say everything over the radio,' she said. 'Not even in code.'

He moved back to the side table and picked up the rum bottle. 'Just for the record, what really
did
happen that night you left?'

She took a cigarette from a silver box on the table, lit it and leaned back in her chair. 'A combination of things. The assassination of Miguel de Rodriguez had been planned for several days. I was to have no connection with it myself.'

'Which was why you used Garcia?'

'He was expendable. A traitor to his country who thought he could buy his way back again.'

'Why the pretence that you were on the plane?'

She shrugged. 'Things seemed to be warming up. We knew that Morrison was a CIA man. When he arrived on Spanish Cay, I couldn't be sure that he wasn't on my trail. To die seemed the surest way to put him off the scent if he was. In any case, it was time for me to move on.'

And then Manning began to see things more clearly. 'You persuaded Jimmy Walker to help you?'

She nodded. I told him that you were getting too serious, that I wanted to break away. That if you thought I'd left for Miami, you'd follow me there.'

'So you never even got on the plane?'

She shook her head. 'Poor Jimmy. He thought I'd be waiting for him at his beach cottage. He was going to fly me to Vera Cruz next day.'

For a moment, Manning saw again the pale face, the hair waving gently in the green water. A spasm of anger moved inside him. 'He loved you, Maria. Didn't that count for anything?'

'Miguel de Rodriguez had to die. He was an enemy of the state. A threat to every free Cuban.'

There were three other people in the plane. Did they have to go too?'

'A regrettable necessity. We must show our enemies that we mean business.'

'So you butcher the innocent.'

'The purpose of terrorism is to terrorize. That's the only way in which a small country can hope to defeat an empire. Lenin said that.'

'The latest catchphrase goes one better,' Manning told her. 'We will bury you.' He was suddenly filled with disgust. 'My God, they must have done a good job on you.'

'They didn't need to,' she said, filled with that same unnatural calm. 'I work for the destiny of a nation. To achieve our end, any sacrifice is worthwhile.'

And then the combination of the rum and the closeness of the room was too much for Manning and everything seemed to move in, to lose definition, as if nothing were real. It was as if he were outside all this, looking in on a wild nightmare that had no sense to it, no beginning or end.

'My father was a good man,' she said. 'A lawyer. He helped the poor and defended political prisoners when no other defence counsel could be found. When I was thirteen years of age, Batista's secret police came for him one night. He never even reached police headquarters. They said he was shot trying to escape.'

'I'm not going to defend Batista's regime,' Manning said. 'No reasonable person would, from the President of the United States downwards.'

'Later on the same night, they returned to the house to look for documents,' she continued. 'Six of them took my mother into the garden. The soldier who had been left to guard me broke into the liquor cabinet. When he had reached a suitable state of drunkenness, he raped me.'

Her voice moved on, but Manning didn't hear. He closed his eyes and fought against an agony that was almost physically, a hard ball that rose in his throat, threatening to choke him. He lurched across to the side table, poured ice water into a glass and swallowed it quickly.

When he turned, there was a look that might almost have been compassion on her face. 'It's of no consequence, Harry. It happened a long time ago.'

He shook his head. 'It might be happening tonight. Do you think the DIER act any differently from Batista's secret police? Castro's kept everything that was rotten in the old regime and added to it.'

She jumped to her feet, her face flushed with anger. 'You will not say things like that. I refuse to allow it. I was in the mountains with Fidel. He is a great man.'

'The colonel refuses to allow it so that makes everything all right,' he said softly.

She went out through the French windows and, after a moment, he followed her. She was standing by the rail and he moved beside her. The immediate sensation was that they were floating in space. The darkness was perfumed with the scent of flowers and the great bowl of night dipped to meet the sea, stars glittering into infinity.

'What happens now?' he said.

'You will be returned to San Juan, all of you.'

'To stand our trial for crimes against the state?'

She shook her head. 'That will not be possible.'

'But of course,' he said. 'There's Orlov to consider. What a pity you can't have one of those really democratic trials they like so much in Havana these days. Set the court up in the ball park, just to let everyone see that justice is being done.'

'You will get your trial,' she said. 'There is justice for all in Cuba today.'

The fanaticism, the sincerity in her voice was something he couldn't fight. He sighed and shook his head. 'You win, Maria. When do we move?'

'Tomorrow evening. We will all be leaving together. Our task force will be done.'

'Not before time. From what Morrison tells me, you've been pushing the action a little hard lately. From now on I think you'll find that things warm up considerably.'

'By then it will be too late,' she said. 'Far too late.'

In spite of her calmness, there was an edge to her words, a deeper meaning that he couldn't ignore.

There's such a thing as taking the pitcher to the well too often.'

'The tracker stations?' She shook her head. 'This time we are after bigger game.'

'And what might that be?'

She smiled for the first time since he had entered the room that night. 'Dean Rusk and Lord Home.'

The whole world seemed to stop breathing. He stared down into that calm, resolute face and in a movement that was purely instinctive, his hands reached for her throat.

She made no move to defend herself, but there was a sharp click as a gun was cocked and a tall, swarthy Cuban in a seaman's jersey stepped out of the shadows carrying a machine pistol.

Manning dropped his hand and she shook her head. 'Do you think me a fool, Harry?'

She turned without waiting for an answer and went back into the room. He stayed there for a moment and stared into the darkness, considering the enormity of the thing she contemplated. When he finally went in, she was sitting down again.

He moved around the desk and faced her. 'You'll never get away with it, Maria. No one could get through the kind of security net those two will have around them.'

'With careful planning, anything is possible.' She opened a drawer, took out a chart and spread it on the desk. 'Here is Nassau and fifteen miles away is Lyford Cay where Rusk and Home are to meet. At two o'clock tomorrow afternoon, they're going for a short cruise in a diesel yacht. At three, they anchor beside a red buoy specially positioned in the channel and watch an exhibition of water skiing. There is nothing we don't know about their movements.'

'And you think they'll let you get close enough to try anything?' Manning said.

'We don't even need to be here,' she replied patiently. 'At dawn tomorrow, I'm going skin diving off Lyford Cay.'

'At dawn?' he said, frowning, 'I don't understand.'

'You will, Harry, I assure you. It'll be in all the papers.' She pressed a buzzer on the desk and immediately, the door opened and Vargas entered. 'I've finished with Senor Manning. You can put him with the others.'

Manning took a step towards her. 'Maria, for God's sake, listen to me.'

But he wasting his time. The man on the terrace moved in and Maria pulled a sheet of paper forward and picked up a pen. Manning turned abruptly, brushed past Vargas and went into the other room.

Viner was sitting on the edge of the desk smoking a cigarette. He smiled faintly. 'Life's just full of surprises isn't it, Harry?'

Manning ignored him and helped himself to a cigarette from a pack on the desk. 'She's crazy. You all are if you think you can get away with this.'

Viner gave him a light. 'I think you may be surprised, Harry. It's really a very good plan.'

'It'll need to be.'

The man with the machine-pistol poked him with the barrel and he moved out through the door, Viner at his shoulder. They crossed the hall and descended a flight of stairs at the back of the house.

There was a large, whitewashed wine cellar at the bottom, brightly lit by a naked electric bulb. Viner's two men, Paco and Charlie, squatted on the floor and played cards, their submachine guns propped against the wall.

Paco jumped to his feet and took a bunch of keys from his pocket. 'Where shall I put him?'

'With his friends, by all means.' Viner said pleasantly. 'You'll find them all there, Harry, except for your girlfriend. She's got a cellar all to herself. Maria is surprisingly puritanical about such things.'

They moved past several doors, heavily barred with iron, a small grille set in each. Manning caught a brief glimpse of Anna's white face and then they paused at the next door. When it was opened, there was a confused impression of faces and then he was pushed inside and the door clanged shut.

He ignored the rush of questions and peered through the grille, watching Viner walk away. Suddenly, he laughed harshly and turned to face them.

'For God's sake, what is it, Harry?' Morrison demanded.

'One of life's little ironies,' Manning said. 'It's just occurred to me that two great men are going to die because a drunken peasant raped a little girl seventeen long years ago.'