White Cargo (33 page)

Prince shrugged. “Does it matter? As many as necessary. Those addicts who do not respond to rehabilitation will certainly have to go; a certain element in the government, in the courts, and especially in journalism, will have to be dealt with. We must control the press, but only to the extent of what is written about us. All of this will be conducted in a very businesslike way, you see. That is the secret of my whole program—that it is run strictly by proven entrepreneurial business methods.”

Cat looked at Jinx. She had been quietly concentrating on her food, oblivious of the conversation. Prince stood up. “Would you like a little tour of the place?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Cat replied, “we would.” Prince turned to say something to a servant in Spanish, and Cat whispered in Meg's ear, “Try and talk to Jinx. Find out where her room is, what her schedule is.”

Prince led the way to the main house. Cat walked alongside him, and Meg fell back with Jinx.

“How long has it taken you to build all this?” Cat asked.

“Less than two years, from scratch,” Prince replied.
“When you bring in your labor force, pay them well, and keep them here until the job is done, things happen very quickly. Not everything is complete yet, but in another couple of months we'll be finished.”

“I see you're building an airstrip,” Cat said.

“Yes, we'll have a runway that can take a large jet transport, not to mention my own airplane.”

They strolled along the path, Prince pointing out the water purification plant, the vegetable garden and fruit orchard.

“We're pretty much self-sufficient here,” he said, “but when the runway is finished, we can fly in what we need directly from Bogotá.”

“Aren't you a bit cut off from the outside world?” Cat asked.

“Come, I'll show you something,” Prince said. He led them into the house and into Vargas's office. Vargas looked up from his desk. “Don't let us disturb you,” Prince said to him. He continued into an adjoining room, which was filled with electronic equipment. “What we have here is a complete communications center. We keep in touch the way a ship at sea would.” He pointed to a bank of radio equipment, then to another bank being installed by a technician. “But soon we'll have our own international telephone system. Down near the factory a couple of dish antennas are being installed that will keep us in touch with the world by satellite—we'll also be able to receive whatever television we wish. I'd hoped to have it all up and running in time for this convocation, but things got a little behind.”

Prince walked over to a computer terminal and began explaining his computer installation.

But Cat was distracted. At Prince's elbow was a Cat
One printer, and next to it was the operator's manual. It was lying facedown on a desk, and on the back of the manual was Cat's photograph, taken in his office after the incident on the yacht, after the beard had been shaven, the weight lost. It was an awfully good likeness, Cat thought. His name was printed boldly under the photograph.

“We are as well set up as any large corporation,” Prince was saying. “Our normal operations are conducted from our Cali headquarters, but I have sufficient facilities here for issuing instructions.”

Cat made a show of walking around the room, examining the installation. He finished at Prince's elbow and picked up the Cat One manual, flipping idly through it. “Do you have an office here?” he asked.

“I have a comfortable suite of rooms upstairs; my office is there,” Prince replied. He did not offer to show it to them.

Cat closed the printer manual and placed it on a bookshelf over the printer, out of Prince's view.

“Well, I have some work to do,” Prince said. “You may order lunch in your cottage, and you've been given your schedule of seminars, right?”

“Right,” Cat replied.

They followed Prince back into the main entrance hall, where he excused himself and went upstairs. Jinx followed him like a puppy.

Cat took Meg's hand and led her outside. “Well? Did you find out anything?”

“She lives with Prince in his suite,” Meg said. They moved down the path toward their cottage. “The other girls have a sort of dormitory at the back of the main house.”

“That's bad. She's going to be tough to get at if she's with him all the time.” Still, it made him want to get at her all the more, and get at Prince, too. “Did you find out anything else?”

“She says she was born and raised in Cartagena, but the accent is wrong. She could be American.”

“This is insane. That girl is Jinx, I promise you.”

“She said something else.”

“What?”

“I asked her how she met the Anaconda.”

“And?”

“She said, ‘I've always known Stan.'”

“Jesus, he's done something to her, drugged her or something.”

“She doesn't play tennis like somebody who's drugged, Cat. The girl seems perfectly normal to meat least as perfectly normal as anybody can be in a place like this. She seems quite content to be with old Stan.”

“He's done something to her,” Cat said, doggedly. “I've got to find a way to get her out of here.”

Meg stopped and turned to him. “Cat, listen to me for a moment.”

He stopped. “Okay.”

“Maybe you're not crazy; maybe that girl is your daughter.”

“Well, thanks for that, anyway.”

Meg went on. “But she's not your daughter anymore—that has to be clear to you.”

“What are you talking about? You mean that because she's not her old self I should just forget about her?”

“No, that's not what I mean. I know you're going to try to get her out of here.”

“You're right about that.”

“But you have to realize something.”

“What?” he demanded.

“She's not going to want to go.”

C
AT SAT NUMBLY THROUGH AN AFTERNOON OF INSTRUCTION IN
how to set up a cocaine sales network in his franchised area. He had been in this place for nearly twenty-four hours, and he was getting nowhere. Granted, he knew where Jinx lived, but it had turned out to be possibly the most secure area of the entire camp—in fact, almost the only secure area. Everything else, except the factory, was easy enough to see, and no one questioned where he went. Prince and his people seemed to think themselves invulnerable because of their remote location, and since they had screened everyone who was here, they were arrogant enough not to be suspicious of anyone.

The meeting broke up, and he went back to the cottage. Meg was not there, still in a meeting of her own. The temperature outside was amazing, and the humidity worse. Cat got into a swimsuit and headed for the pool. There were half a dozen men scattered at tables, sipping drinks, and Dell was among them. It was the first time Cat had seen him since the evening before. Cat swam a couple of laps, then sat on the edge of the pool and waited. Soon, Dell came over and sat beside him.

“I tried to talk to Jinx last night,” he said. “She pretended not to recognize me, to not even understand me.”

“I know, I'm having the same problem,” Cat replied. “I don't know if she's pretending, or what.”

“What do you mean?”

“She may be off her head. It may be that what she has been through has been so horrible that she's just blocked it out.”

Dell clenched his jaw and said nothing for a moment. “Were you serious last night?” he asked finally. “About the raid and getting Jinx out?”

“Yes, perfectly.”

“All right, I'll stay out of your way.”

“What about your million bucks?” Cat asked.

“I've been thinking about that. I think I can get it back when the raid starts. Maybe even more.”

“Dell, you're crazy to try that. It's going to be tough enough just keeping from getting shot by the troops without trying something stupid.”

“I don't need you to tell me what's stupid,” Dell said through clenched teeth. “I can take care of myself.”

“Whatever you say,” Cat replied. He had to try not to have any more confrontations with Dell. “Just remember to hide someplace until the shooting is over, then give yourself up. Tell them who you are and that you were here to help me. If I don't make it out of the raid, ask for a guy named Barry Hedger. He's an important person in the Bogotá embassy.”

“When is it going to happen?”

“I'm not sure, but if you hear helicopters, it's on.”

“Right.” Dell made to get up, but Cat held him back.

“Listen, when this is over, if we get out of here alive, I
want us to talk, to try and find some middle ground between us.”

For a moment Dell looked uncertain, vulnerable. Then he got up and walked away.

Cat went back to the cottage and found Meg stretched out on a bed fanning herself. “What's up?” she asked.

He sat down on the bed beside her. “We're getting nowhere fast here,” he said.

She sat up on an elbow. “What do you mean? I thought we were doing okay. We've found Jinx, we know where she lives, and I've got some great videotape,” she said, patting her big handbag containing the miniature camera, which rested on the bed beside her. “I got all of that conversation with Prince during our tennis breakfast this morning. It's going to be incredible on the air. All I want now is some shots of the helicopters coming in.”

“Sorry, I didn't mean we had got nowhere; I meant there was nowhere else to go. We're not going to be able to spirit Jinx out of Prince's quarters. I think we're going to have to take more direct action.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it's time to switch on that radio and call the troops in. Tomorrow at dawn, I'll go jogging. I'll run down to where they're building the airstrip and set up the radio there. Then we have to position ourselves near the main house. When we hear the first chopper, we run upstairs to Prince's quarters and lock ourselves in with Prince and Jinx until the shooting is over. What do you think?”

“His quarters will be guarded.”

“We'll shoot our way in, if necessary, but I'm depending on you to talk us in.”

“Well,” she said, “I guess I'd have a pretty good view of things from Prince's windows, wouldn't I?”

He grinned. “I guess you would.” He leaned over and kissed her. She pulled him down onto the bed and nestled her head on his shoulder. Soon, she was asleep. It was just as well, he thought. He had been about to tell her about the other thing he was going to do tonight, but perhaps it was better if she didn't know.

•   •   •

Cat dressed for dinner, and while Meg was in the bathroom, he removed the false bottom from the canvas-and-leather grip and took out the H&K automatic pistol. He slipped into the shoulder holster, screwed the silencer into the barrel, and tried to fit the gun into the holster. It wouldn't fit with the silencer on. He unscrewed the silencer and put it into his trousers pocket, then slipped the pistol into the holster.

There were no place cards at dinner that evening. Cat and Meg took seats near the door, at the opposite end of the table from Prince and Jinx. The dinner was somewhat more convivial than the evening before. People were getting to know each other. Cat found himself sitting next to the Englishman he had seen wearing the heavy suit the evening before. He was more comfortably dressed now.

The Englishman introduced himself. “Where are you from, old boy?” he drawled.

“Southeastern United States,” Cat replied.

“I'm a Londoner, myself,” he said. He had had a lot to drink. “I live in Berkshire at the moment, but I expect I'll be taking a place in town again before long.” He winked broadly. “Once the stuff starts to come in, you know. Property's awfully good value in London these days. I'm thinking of Eaton Square.”

“Nice neighborhood,” Cat said.

“The bloody Duke of Westminster owns the whole fucking thing, you know.”

“I'd heard.”

“We were in the army together.”

“Were you?”

“Yes, indeed. Not what you'd call close, but still, I expect he'd be glad to have me in Eaton Square. The old regiment, and all that.”

“It helps to have connections, I guess.”

The Englishman winked again. “You had one of these girls yet?”

“No.”

“Bloody marvelous they are. Had one last night, an American.”

Cat stiffened.

“The Anaconda must treat them bloody well. She was damned enthusiastic.”

Cat said nothing.

“I understand there's a little show at the disco tonight. You going?”

“I hadn't thought about it.”

“Oh, you must, old fellow. Everyone'll be there. Bloody good show, they say.” He winked again, but then his eyes did something odd.

Cat turned and followed his gaze. The dining-room doors had opened, and an Indian dressed in a plain khaki uniform, carrying an automatic weapon, stood in the doorway. There was a girl with him. He was holding her by the hair.

“Good God!” the Englishman spat. “She's mine! I mean, the one I had last night!”

The girl was trembling violently and crying. There was
a dust of white powder on her nose and upper lip. The room had gone very quiet.

From the other end of the room, Cat heard a chair scrape on the floor and footsteps walking the length of the table. Still, he could not take his eyes off the terrified girl. Prince walked into his vision, toward the girl. He moved calmly, deliberately. He approached the girl and stopped. The soldier said something Cat couldn't catch. Prince reached down to the holster on the soldier's belt, unsnapped it, and removed a .38-caliber pistol from it. The soldier yanked backward on the girl's hair, and when she began to cry out, Prince put the barrel of the pistol into her mouth and fired. A long spray of blood and gore spurted from the back of her head, and she went limp. Prince handed the pistol to the guard, then turned to face his audience.