God's Favorite (32 page)

Father Jorge's complexion darkened. “A very small part,” he conceded.

The Nuncio shook his head in exasperation. “You have no idea how perilous our situation is here! I realize where your sympathies lie, but really, Father! You are jeopardizing everything!
We can only hope this coup succeeds. You may be lucky and the Vatican will forget about you. I'm not even speaking about General Noriega. If he survives this, then we are all in great danger. A wounded lion is much more dangerous than a sleeping one.”

T
ONY STARED AT
the sheet of paper in front of him. “But this is a resignation,” he said.

“Of course,” said Giroldi.

“I can't sign this.”

Giroldi smiled tolerantly. His face was full of compassion and goodwill. “I know it's hard to accept, General. But you realize that the terms are extremely generous. You get to stay in Panama and no charges will be filed.”

Tony nodded without looking up.

“You only have to remove yourself from your present office and then you are free to go on with your life, with my personal guarantee for your safety.”

Whatever that's worth, Tony thought as he watched Contreras out of the corner of his eye. “There are several items for discussion,” Tony said. “In theory, I agree to your demands.”

“What does that mean, ‘in theory'?” Contreras said darkly.

“I just need a legal reading before I can make such a commitment.”

Contreras snorted. “Why do you even talk to him?” he said to Giroldi. “There is no negotiation! We all agreed to this! These are the final terms.”

“And we are very close,” Tony said reasonably. “There are only a few items to clarify. For instance, there is nothing in here about my pension.”

“Pension!”
Contreras cried.

“It may seem a small thing to you, Lieutenant, but I must consider my family.”

“You've stolen enough to keep your family rich for fifty generations!
You've taken half the wealth of the country—never has there been such a robber, never in the history of the world!”

“You exaggerate,” said Tony. “I may have taken a little here and there, but I have shared with my fellow officers. Giroldi can tell you, can't you, Moisés? We have all benefited. Even you, Contreras.”

“We are here to change all that, General,” Giroldi said stiffly. Every word he said seemed to be measured to fit into a history text. “We're going to pull the corruption out by the roots. Even from our own pockets.”

“If this is so, then I congratulate you. Panama has long needed such principled leadership. Indeed, I will join you in your efforts.”

“You can't join us,” said Contreras. “We're revolting against
you.
”

“Very well, if you feel that way.” Tony shrugged indifferently. “But for your sake, I do feel compelled to ask if the Americans have examined this document.”

“This is not an American action,” said Giroldi. “It is purely a Panamanian action.”

Tony looked grave. “So you are declaring independence from the gringos as well?”

“It is time for Panama to behave like a normal country and not a colony of the United States.”

“This I also approve. But even a normal country wants to have good relations with the superpowers, especially when one of them has twelve thousand troops stationed here.”

“Of course we will treat the Americans with respect.”

“I assume you have already discussed the coup with them?”

“In general terms,” Giroldi conceded.

“That was prudent,” said Tony. “The next step is to fax this resignation letter over to them and get a reaction.”

Tony started to hand the letter to Giroldi, but Contreras blocked him. The man's face was murderous. “It's a trick, Major,” he said.

Tony ignored him. “Major, if you are going to be running Panama, you may as well know that the Americans want to have their thumb in every pie. It will set a good precedent, believe me. You will show them that you are independent but cooperative. Flexible. They will see you as a man they can do business with.”

“This is a ruse!” Contreras cried. “Send it to the Americans and we will be here in the next century waiting for a response from the State Department.”

Tony's eyes never left Giroldi. “Really, Major, it is only a gesture. A simple courtesy.”

Giroldi was paralyzed.

“Major, he's stalling for time!” Contreras warned. “He's up to something!”

“I don't see what possible harm it would do,” said Giroldi.

Tony smiled. “Your first executive decision. I must admit, I'm impressed.”

W
HAT THE HELL
am I supposed to do with this?” asked General Honeycutt as he waved his copy of the fax in the air. A special response team had assembled in his office in reaction to the communiqué.

“It appears there really is a coup in progress, General,” said a young intelligence officer. “We've got visual contact on the Comandancia. The rebels clearly have control.”

“Actually, General, we've got information that a countercoup is also under way right now,” said Rollins. The man was wearing a stained guayabera and smoking a perfumed Latin cigarette. “The Mountain Men division is being airlifted from Río Hato. Two transports have already landed.”

“Coup? Countercoup? How do we know what's real?” the general cried helplessly.

“Maybe we should give Giroldi the backup he requested, sir,” Lieutenant Cheever suggested. “We can easily block the Mountain
Men by rolling a few tanks out on Avenida Fourth of July. They'll get the message right away.”

“I'm still not convinced that this isn't being staged for our benefit,” the general replied. His stomach was also beginning to rebel. “What wisdom can the agency bring to this, Rollins?”

“From the agency's point of view, this is a disaster,” Rollins said. “We'd be losing our most cherished intelligence asset. Tony Noriega has been pouring gravy on our biscuits since the Eisenhower administration.”

“But our entire foreign-policy establishment has been negotiating for his removal,” said Lieutenant Cheever.

The general looked distrustfully at Rollins. “I thought the agency was working with Giroldi,” he said. “You brought him to us in the first place.”

“We just gather information, General. The old shake-and-bake days are over. You ask my opinion, and I say hands off. If Giroldi takes control, he'll deal with us; if not, well, we haven't lost anything.”

General Honeycutt stared out his window. He had a splendid view of the Miraflores Locks, that masterpiece of turn-of-the-century engineering. A tanker bearing oil from the North Slope of Alaska was edging through in one direction as a Norwegian cruise ship waited to go the opposite way, toward Tahiti. The general felt like a glorified transit commissar. “What are we doing in this Third World puzzle box in the first place?” he grumbled. “Guarding a goddamn ditch!”

A
T FIRST
, T
ONY
mistook the sound of light artillery for thunder, since the sky was low and ready for an afternoon downpour. But then Corporal Alvaro rushed into the room and disclosed in a hushed, distressed voice that the Mountain Men had arrived and had engaged in combat with a rebel roadblock on the airport highway.

Carmen!

“But the Americans must have blocked the roads,” Giroldi said.

“Do you see them?” asked Contreras, looking out the slatted windows. “Where are they? I don't see any American aircraft, either. You said they would be performing maneuvers.”

“You didn't get their written guarantee, Major?” Tony asked. “I hope you didn't just accept their word.”

Giroldi looked at Tony in annoyance.

Tony shook his head sympathetically. “Well, perhaps all is not lost. You could call the Americans and demand that they honor their commitment.”

The rebel officers looked at each other uncertainly. “For once, I agree with him,” said Contreras.

Giroldi fished in his pocket, looking for a telephone number.

“It's eight two zero seven nine four,” said Tony. “That will get you straight to General Honeycutt's office.”

“Thank you,” Giroldi said reluctantly as he dialed the number.

“His aide is named Henry Cheever.”

The line rang and rang.

“They must have gone to lunch,” said Tony.

“Major, let's kill him now,” said Contreras. “Everything is falling apart. If we kill him, we have still achieved our goal.”

“No.”

“Then what do you propose?” Contreras said urgently. “Do you want a battle with the Mountain Men? We're minutes away from it. They will bring heavy weapons—it is going to be a bloodbath.”

Giroldi turned to Tony. “Do you absolutely refuse to sign this?”

“I can't sign it without further consultation. If you'd just let me get my lawyer on the phone . . .” In the background he could hear additional gunfire, closer this time.

“In that case we will have to deliver him to the Americans,” said Giroldi. “They say they want to put him on trial—okay, they can have him!”

“It may already be too late for that,” said Contreras. “You hear the sound of the M-60s? That is the Mountain Men. You know how small our guard is! They will be overwhelmed in no time!”

Corporal Alvaro rushed in. He couldn't be more than twenty, Tony thought. “M-m-many of our troops have sur-surrendered,” he said in a voice that was cracking in panic. “They refuse to f-f-fight. They think we have f-f-failed.”

Contreras chambered a round, but Giroldi pushed his weapon away. “Let's be calm,” he said. “We need to think about how our actions will be perceived in the future. We haven't failed! After all, we still have the General. What can they do? Don't you see that we are the ones who are in control? The only thing we have to worry about is losing our heads.”

The phone rang. Tony and Giroldi both reached for it.

“Hello,” said Tony. He listened a moment, then a smile came over his face. “It's for you,” he said, handing the phone to Contreras.

“Me?” Contreras looked confused. “Who knows I am here? I told no one.” He took the phone from Tony's hand. “Lucia?” he said in disbelief. “Where are you?”

As Contreras listened, the blood drained from his face. “The police have my family,” he said when he had hung up. “Even my mother.”

“My God,” said Giroldi.

Carmen!

“There are other family members being held as well,” said Contreras to the other officers in the room.

Tony waited until all the eyes in the room had turned toward him. “What happens to me, happens to them,” he said simply.

Just as he spoke, an explosion shook the room. The rebels instinctively ducked, but Tony sat calmly at his desk. “How much time do you have, Major? You know the situation better than I. How many troops can you count on? What are their capabilities? Can you rely on the other divisions?”

Giroldi couldn't speak. All the power had been sucked out of him.

Tony turned to Contreras. “If you value your family, put your weapon on my desk.”

Contreras hesitated only a second, then did as he was told. Tony did not even bother to pick it up. Most of the other officers in the room did the same. Corporal Alvaro hurled his weapon on the desk and stared at Tony with pure contempt.

The sound of the battle intensified. Tony could hear small-arms fire now and the cries of the frightened soldiers on the battlements. “It's over for you, Giroldi,” he said.

Giroldi began dialing the number of the American general again.

Tony shook his head. “This is your moment of decision, Major. Kill me or kill yourself.”

The phone rang and rang. Giroldi hung up and stared vacantly into space. Tony stood up and began walking toward him. “Kill me or kill yourself, Major! Your choice!”

“Don't make me do it, General!” Giroldi said, pointing his weapon at Tony but taking a step backward.

“Personally, I propose that you kill yourself,” said Tony. “It is the only honorable exit from this farce.”

“It's against my religion.”

“All right, I respect that. In that case, give me your weapon and place your fate in God's hands.” The two men began to circle each other, separated only by Giroldi's M-16, which rested on Tony's chest. Gunfire now echoed in the corridor. Time slowed deliciously. The other rebel officers began to weep and pray, but Tony's senses unfolded like blossoms. He could smell the fear in the room. Then the gunfire ceased, and Tony could hear the Mountain Men running through the corridor to his rescue. It was almost as if he were out of his body, running along with them, participating in their excitement. Every movement, every sound was subdivided into a thousand comprehensible shards of revelation. Tony radiated power and happiness, knowing that for
this moment he was experiencing what it would be like to be God.

But Giroldi still stood in the middle of the room with his M-16 pointed at Tony's chest. Tony danced around him like an angel of death. “Of course, you could still kill me, but you can't do that either, can you, Major?”

Giroldi's finger quivered on the trigger.

“General?” cried a voice in the hallway. “We're coming in!”

Tony seemed oblivious to the gunfire that blew out the lock on his door. He continued to dance with Giroldi. “You don't have the balls for it, do you, Major? What are you going to do? Kill me? Act! Act now!”

The door burst open and a dozen Mountain Men rushed into the room. Like a man breaking out of a trance, Giroldi dropped his weapon and raised his hands.

“Are you all right, General?” asked a captain who had led the assault.

Tony nodded without looking at him. “You should have taken my advice, Moisés,” he said gently.