Brazil (21 page)

Luiz stared dumbly at the gun. ‘You’re giving me a weapon?’

‘No going back now.’ Angel shrugged. ‘Fernandes’s guards will shoot you just as quickly as they will me. We’re both dead men. Only hope now is to take the Doctor down with us.’

Still limping and holding his belly, Angel dragged himself up the driveway towards the mansion. It was as though he had already forgotten about Luiz. Frantically, Luiz pulled out his mobile phone and dialled Trojan’s number. This time the call went straight through to Richard Madison.

‘Luiz! What’s happened? Where are you?’

‘At Ivan Fernandes’s house. He’s the Doctor! And now Angel’s going to –’

There was a loud pinging sound and a plant pot beside Luiz exploded. Whirling round, Luiz saw two men running towards him from the side of the mansion, assault rifles raised.

Madison was shouting something down the mobile phone, but Luiz couldn’t hear what he was saying. As another storm of bullets came towards him, he dived over the wall and into the flower bed on the other side, the phone slipping from his grasp. Luiz flattened himself into the dirt, flinching every time a bullet bit into the wall.

Given that Angel had already disappeared inside Fernandes’s house, Luiz knew there was no way he could last out here on his own. His only hope was to hare across the lawn towards the front door of the mansion, which had been left invitingly ajar. He could cover the open ground in maybe five, ten seconds. But with the guards fast approaching, he would be shot dead after three.

He needed cover. Poking his head up from behind the wall, Luiz fired off a couple of shots in the general direction of the guards. He heard shouts of alarm and the gunfire abruptly ceased.

It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, Luiz jumped to his feet and ran for his life.

26. Face-Off

As fast as he ran, time seemed to slow down for Luiz. Each second lasted an eternity. The slightest detail took on significance: from the feel of the springy lawn beneath his feet to the sing-song choruses of the birds high up in the trees. One step, then another. Luiz’s heart was raggedly thudding in his chest. The doorway to Fernandes’s house loomed up in front of him, a dark portal to safety.

The first gunshot went off sooner than he had been expecting, zinging over his shoulder and spurring him onwards. The two guards had reached the corner of the house and were racing towards him along the driveway. As Luiz hurdled over a flower bed and raced up the steps on to the veranda, there was another blast and a chunk of wood flew off one of the white balustrade posts. He threw himself headlong towards the door, landing inside the house even as the veranda was enveloped in a hail of bullets behind him.

It was gloomy inside, shadows stretching out across the spotless tiled floor. There was no sign of either Angel or the Doctor. Scrambling to his feet, Luiz ran down the hallway and through a door that led into a brightly lit kitchen. The room was silent, save for the soft humming of the fridge. Luiz stood stock-still, holding his breath.

The front door creaked open again as the guards followed him into the house, their soft footfalls audible as they crept inside. Luiz looked down at his gun. Even now, with his life in the balance, he wasn’t sure that he could shoot someone. He glanced around the kitchen, but saw nothing among the household appliances on the sideboard that could help him. Pressing himself against the wall by the door, he waited as the footsteps drew nearer.

The kitchen door opened a crack and the barrel of an assault rifle poked cautiously into the room. Luiz waited until the man was halfway through the doorway, then he kicked the door as hard as he could. There was a loud oath as the gun fell to the floor, which turned into a growl of rage as Luiz kicked the rifle out of reach. The guard burst into the kitchen, throwing a clumsy haymaker at Luiz, who ducked sharply. Luiz then responded with a deft punch to the man’s kidneys, followed up by a knee into his groin. As the guard buckled, Luiz brought his pistol down sharply on the man’s head. The guard grunted and went sprawling headlong across the tiles, unconscious.

‘Hold it right there,’ said a clipped voice.

Luiz looked up to see that the second guard had appeared in the kitchen. Before he could react, a booming shot rang out. As the guard fell to the floor, dead, Angel appeared in the doorway behind him, his shotgun still smoking.

‘Angel!’ Luiz gasped. ‘You saved me!’

‘I know,’ the
dono
replied flatly. ‘I guess we’re in this together now.’

A reflective look flickered across Angel’s face and for a brief second he seemed a lot younger than he had before. Then, his resolve hardening, he turned on his heel and marched back into the hallway. Glancing around at the expensive paintings and ornaments with undisguised hatred, he smashed a slender vase with the butt of his shotgun.

‘Where are you hiding, Fernandes?’ he cried out. ‘Come out and face me, you son of a bitch!’

‘Maybe he heard us coming and ran away,’ Luiz suggested.

The
dono
shook his head. ‘He’s here, all right. I can smell him.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the staircase. ‘I’m going upstairs. You stay down here and look for him.’

With that, Angel marched upstairs and disappeared inside one of the bedrooms. Luiz glanced at the front door. He could make a run for it, take a chance that there were no guards waiting for him outside, but what if the Doctor was still in the house somewhere? After everything, he couldn’t bear the thought that Fernandes might escape. Angel was right: they were in it together now.

Stealing across the ground floor of the house, Luiz found himself in a large room dominated by a long dining table. Sunlight poured in through a window that ran the length of the room, glinting off a mirror hanging on the far wall. Through the window, a sandy beach was visible, with surf pounding down relentlessly upon it. Luiz looked out over the view.

‘Are you lost, boy?’

Luiz whirled round and saw Ivan Fernandes staring back at him. The restaurateur was standing on the other side of the table from him, his back to the mirror. The smooth, polite facade he had displayed in the Casa Bahia had vanished, replaced by a disdainful sneer. In his hand Fernandes brandished a pearl-handled Colt .45 pistol, its barrel pointing straight at Luiz’s head.

‘Don’t move,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘You were at the restaurant. With the policeman.’

Luiz nodded dumbly.

‘And now you’re here. In my house. With a gun.’

‘I know who you are!’ Luiz shouted bravely. ‘You’re the Doctor!’

Fernandes raised a cold eyebrow. ‘Really? Come here to arrest me, have you?’

‘And I’ve phoned the police,’ Luiz lied. ‘They’re on their way, and if anything happens to me they’ll think it was you.’

‘The police will think what I tell them,’ Fernandes countered. ‘To them, you’re just another petty thief from the slums who’s about to be shot dead by a respectable man guarding his property. You need to be bit quicker if you’re going to try and outwit me.’

A dark shadow flitted across the mirror behind Fernandes and suddenly Angel was in the room with them.

‘This quick enough?’ the
dono
whispered, pressing his shotgun against the side of the Doctor’s head. ‘Drop it. Now.’

Fernandes froze, shock etched upon his face. Luiz could see his mind racing, calculating whether there was any way he could fight back. Then his shoulders slumped and he dropped the Colt to the floor with a clatter.

‘What the hell are you doing, Angel?’ he grimaced. ‘Have you gone crazy?’

‘I’m the sanest I’ve been in a long time,’ Angel replied. ‘I was crazy when I listened to you. I was crazy when I believed that you could protect us from the police.’

He jabbed the Doctor’s head with his gun. In a flash Fernandes’s cool demeanour had been stripped away and, when he spoke again, fear trembled at the edge of his voice.

‘I did everything I could!’ he protested. ‘I spent a fortune bribing officials to cover your rotten backs – policemen, politicians. But once that Jorge Cruz got involved, we were finished!’

‘No, the Comando Negro were finished. Seems to me you’re still doing pretty well for yourself, Fernandes.’

‘Think of all I’ve done for you, Angel!’ Fernandes tried desperately. ‘When I first hired you, you were a nothing in the Compadres. Now you’re the most feared gangster in Rio!’

‘Maybe so,’ Angel said. ‘But at least when I was a nothing I had a brother. Some things aren’t worth the price you pay for them.’

Keeping the Doctor at arm’s length, Angel pushed him into the centre of the room with the barrel of his Remington. Fernandes closed his eyes, as though he had resigned himself to his fate.

‘This is for Rafael,’ Angel said, through clenched teeth. His finger tightened on the trigger.

‘Wait!’ Luiz cried out.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and pointed his gun at Angel, trying to ignore the fact that his hands were trembling.

‘Don’t shoot him.’

‘Luiz?’ A look of astonishment crossed the
dono
’s face. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘Getting involved. Put your gun down.’

‘Or what?’ Angel retorted, a challenge in his voice. ‘You’ll shoot me?’

‘I don’t want to. Part of me wants you to kill Fernandes. But I’ve seen enough dead bodies as it is and I don’t want to see another one. Fernandes should go to jail, where he belongs.’

‘Who cares about jail?’ the
dono
yelled. ‘Rafael’s dead!’

‘Let this one go, Angel. Please.’

Distracted, Angel momentarily lowered his shotgun. Fernandes broke free and pulled something from his pocket. Metal gleamed in the sunlight. A blade. Fernandes spun round and drove the dagger deep into Angel’s chest. The
dono
staggered backwards, crashing into the mirror, his hands clutching feebly at the hilt of the dagger. Angel’s eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped to the ground.

Luiz’s eyes met the Doctor’s. Then, dropping to one knee, he took aim and fired. The bullet clipped Ivan Fernandes in the right shoulder and the man fell to the floor, screaming in agony.

Luiz stayed kneeling down, all of a sudden feeling strangely detached. His arms tingled from the recoil of the weapon and the smell of cordite hung heavy in the air. Slowly straightening up, he walked across the room and levelled the gun at the Doctor.

‘Make one move,’ Luiz said softly, ‘and I’ll kill you. I swear.’

Fernandes was clutching his shoulder, making high-pitched whimpering sounds. It was just the two of them now. Luiz could put a bullet in his skull and no one would ever know about it. This drug-dealing murderer would be gone. He brought up his left hand and took aim.

‘Luiz?’

Luiz started. Glancing up, he saw Juan Oliveira standing in the doorway. The policeman looked out of breath.

‘Juan?’ said Luiz, his voice trembling. ‘How did you get here?’

‘Traced your mobile phone call. I’m here now. It’s OK.’

‘It’s not OK!’ Luiz shot back. ‘Can’t you see?’ He pointed at Angel. ‘He’s dead and it’s my fault. Everyone’s dead – apart from Fernandes. He can’t get away with it!’

‘He won’t get away with it,’ Oliveira said. ‘He’ll go to prison. I promise. You need to put the gun down, Luiz.’

The policeman walked slowly towards him, maintaining eye contact all the while. Folding his hands over Luiz’s gun, he gently removed it from his grasp. As they stared at one another, Fernandes began sobbing with relief at their feet.

Luiz felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Dimly, he was aware that Oliveira had put an arm around his shoulders.

‘It’s all right, son. Come on.’

A wailing police siren had struck up in the distance. In a daze, Luiz trudged out of the house and into the bright sunshine, leaving Oliveira standing over the shaking figure of the Doctor and the bloodied corpse of the leader of the Comando Negro.

27. Endgame

Early the next morning, a cable car climbed up through the air above Rio, heading towards the summit of Sugarloaf Mountain. On a bright, clear day the whole of Rio would have been visible through the windows, but now the city was smothered beneath a thick blanket of early-morning mist. Rain drummed impatiently on the cable car roof.

Given the weather, it was little surprise that the cable car was quiet, most of the tourists preferring to wait for the mist to clear. Only a group of Germans had braved the journey in the hope of a sudden burst of sunshine. They stood at the far end of the car, keeping a wary distance from the only other occupant: a teenage boy staring out into the whiteness, his face covered in cuts and bruises. To the Germans – who had been warned about the young gang members from the
favelas
– he looked like trouble.

Lost in his own thoughts, Luiz was barely aware that anyone was looking at him. The turmoil of the previous few days was starting to catch up with him. He was aware that he was on the verge of crashing with exhaustion. Not yet, though. There was still one more thing he had to do.

He had spent the night at Juan Oliveira’s, the policeman patching up his wounds as best he could. They sat in front of the TV, watching news reports showing the aftermath of the carnage at Fernandes’s house. The reporter hailed the arrest of the Doctor as a triumph for the intelligence services and the police. There was no mention of Trojan Industries or Luiz. The camera suddenly cut to an interview with Jorge Cruz, who beamed with delight as he praised the efforts of the police. Luiz snorted dismissively and changed the channel.

Later that evening, Trojan Industries called Oliveira to pass on the word that Ana had been released and told Luiz to meet them on top of Sugarloaf Mountain at nine o’clock the next morning. Why on earth they had decided to meet in such an out-of-the-way place, Luiz couldn’t begin to understand. Oliveira had offered to come with him, but the next morning a call from his bosses had sent him hurrying to the station instead. They said goodbye quickly, respect on both sides. No matter what Luiz thought about some of the cops who worked in Rio, Oliveira was a good man.