Last Light (38 page)

"You, Nick, have you been used too?" He pointed behind me.

"Just like her?"

"It's the story of my life," I said.

"Carrie, Luz, you will have to talk to George beg him, threaten him."

I turned, but Carrie ignored me. She just stared submissively at her husband.

Aaron's voice was still low but now laced with heavy sarcasm as he met her stare.

"Why should he stop? Hell, he thinks it's a neat idea. So neat he gave his daughter some of the action as a surprise." His eyes became enraged as he forced his mug on to the tabletop and leaned forward.

"So that means everybody's happy Uncle Sam comes back and saves the day, the money guys, the military, the right-wingers, they all get the Zone back. And, hey, if it goes wrong, other guys take the heat." He pointed at Carrie, his eyes burning into her once more.

"That's you, and me, and Luz. It's one fuck of a passport out."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Aaron wasn't done.

"Our child will be getting letters from her mother on Alcatraz letterhead, and that's if we're lucky. That's if they don't execute you. It's out of control.

How will we live with ourselves after this?"

Aaron held up his left hand, displaying his wedding ring.

"We're a team, remember? I told you this was wrong. I told you he was lying, I told you he was using you." He slumped back into the chair, wiping his eyes with straight fingers and rubbing his beard in distress as he checked out the computer-room door once more.

I turned. She was looking down, tears rolling down her cheeks too.

"I'm contacting him again tonight... It wasn't supposed to be like this."

That was a start.

"Good. If I close down the relay board now will you still be able to make contact?"

She was opening her mouth, but if words came out I didn't hear them. From above us came an unmistakable and ponderous wap wap wap wap wap.

We all looked up. The noise was suddenly so loud it was as if the roof wasn't there at all.

Both of them rushed towards the computer-room door.

"Luz, Luz!"

I moved to the mozzie screen. I checked back to see them barge into the other room. Shit, it was still on "The webcam, close down the camera!"

I pressed my nose against the mesh. I wanted the M-16 in the Land Cruiser, but it wasn't going to happen. The two dark blue helis were hovering above the house now, having already disgorged their payload. Pairs of jeans carrying M-16s were closing in on the veranda. Michael must have made the connection with Aaron from the meeting at the locks.

I ducked back into the room out of sight, just as the other two came running in with a frightened Luz.

The heli noise was overwhelming. One of them must have been hovering just inches from the roof; the bookshelf was shaking so much that books were tumbling on to the floor.

The scene beyond the screen was a maelstrom of flying twigs, foliage and mud as men bobbed about, cautiously approaching the veranda and pointing weapons.

Aaron's face was stone, glaring over Luz's head as they knelt either side of her, curled up in the armchair, her eyes shut tight in fear. Both of them cuddled and tried to reassure her.

From behind them came shouts in Spanish from the storeroom.

I could see bodies now on the veranda.

It was all over. I dropped to my knees and threw my arms up in surrender, yelling at Aaron and Carrie, fighting against the rotor blades to be heard, "Just be still! Be still, it'll be all right!"

I was lying, I didn't have a clue what was going to happen. But you've got to accept that when you're in the shit you're in the shit. There is nothing you can do but take deep breaths, keep calm, and hope. I thought of my failure, and what that meant, as the pins and needles returned to my legs. This was not a good day out.

Men spilled into the room from the back of the building at the same instant as the mozzie screen burst open. There was crazed shouting between them as they tried to make sure they didn't shoot each other. I kept my head down in submission and could feel the movement in the floorboards as they stamped about.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the flicker as the image on the screen of the PC refreshed itself. Shit!

I chanced a look up and saw the expressions of relief on their faces that they hadn't encountered any resistance. Over their civilian clothes, they were all wearing black nylon chest harnesses for their spare mags. Four of them surrounded Aaron and Carrie, still crouched around the armchair comforting Luz.

She was giving out high-pitched, hysterical screams, terrified by the frantically pointed weapons just inches from her face.

I stayed on my knees, not looking at anyone in particular, just making sure I looked scared which I was. But at least there was one positive; I knew we were being kept alive for some reason, otherwise we'd have been shot on sight. All the weapons that I could see were on Automatic.

I kept still, looked down, took deep breaths, trying to keep myself calm and my head free but it wasn't happening too well.

When people get excited and scared with weapons in their hands anything can happen especially as I could see, now that I was viewing them close up and not through an optic sight, that some of these people were only just getting used to having face hair. It only takes one jumpy young man to fire then everyone joins in out of fright and confusion.

Boots and trainers rushed past as loud instructions came from commanders trying to make themselves heard over the continuous thumping of the rotor blades.

Radios blasted out incomprehensible mush that even they couldn't hear properly.

The sole of someone's boot kicked me between the shoulder blades to get me down on the floor. I went with it, flat on to my stomach, hands out to break my fall and save my face; then, showing compliance, I quickly placed them on the back of my head. I was roughly searched and lost everything out of my pockets, which made me feel naked and depressed.

The shiny Nokia went into someone's pocket as the helis' noise subsided, and shouts filled the vacuum, mixed with the din of corrugated iron getting banged and the storeroom being ransacked. I bet anything nice and shiny in there was falling straight off the shelves and into their pockets as well.

The clatter of rotors slowed gradually and there was the high-pitched whine of the turbos as both engines closed down.

Carrie and Aaron's comforting sounds to Luz dropped with the noise level as rapid Spanish radio traffic echoed from the storeroom. Everybody else was much quieter in the house now; maybe it had just been the noise of the helis whipping them into a frenzy.

But then came the sound of lighter rotors. My stomach churned and I knew that an already bad day was about to get a whole lot worse. Maybe the reason we hadn't been killed on sight was that Charlie wanted to see to it in person.

THIRTY-FOUR

As the Jet Ranger's rotor blades cut out, I heard the barking of orders and bodies started rushing from the room. Three remained covering us, two nervous young guys, maybe their first time out, and one older, in his early thirties.

Outside on the veranda I could hear a lot of warp speed jabbering. The boys were probably swapping stories about how particularly good they were during the attack. I kept my head turned to the left.

The family were still huddled around the armchair. Carrie was nearest to me as they cuddled and stroked Luz's head. Aaron's eyes burned into her. It was hard to read his expression: it looked to me like pure anger, but then he reached out and stroked her face.

Calmer and more controlled Spanish came from the rear of the house, sounding more cultured than the guys with weapons gob bing off. I tilted my head very slightly and screwed my eyes to the top of their sockets to see what was happening.

Charlie, dressed in a navy tracksuit and white trainers, had three or four others buzzing around him like presidential aides as he strode into the room. He walked towards me, looking as if he had need of nothing, not even oxygen. I felt scared.

There was nothing I could do physically about things at the moment. If I saw the chance to get away I would grab it, but right now I just had to look away from him and wait. Whatever happened, I knew it was likely to be painful.

They came towards me, talking quietly to each other as he was called by one of the bodies still in the computer room, and then there was the squeak of rubber soled trainers on floorboards as the group promptly turned and headed back from where they'd just come.

I glanced up and saw them hunched around the PC as the screen flickered and slowly rolled down the image of the lock as it was refreshed. One was pointing at the picture, talking as if he was giving Charlie a multimedia presentation.

The others nodded and agreed.

I turned my eyes to the armchair. Aaron and Carrie were looking anxiously over Luz's head at the group. Aaron turned and stared back at his wife, his eyes swivelling in their sockets as he leant to kiss a sobbing Luz's hair. The guys were still mumbling on the veranda behind me.

I watched as one of the crew broke away from the PC and came back into the living area. He'd had a change of kit since I stole his Land Cruiser, and now boasted a clean, shiny black tracksuit. His neck was covered with a gauze dressing, held in place by surgical tape, and there was a big smile on his face as he sauntered towards me.

I lowered my eyes, clenched my teeth and tensed up.

He crouched down and cocked his head so we could have eye-to-eye.

"Como esta, amigo?" His prominent Adam's apple bobbed up and down under the blood-spotted gauze.

I nodded.

"Bien, bien."

He gave the thumbs up with a smile.

"Si, good, good."

I kept my body tensed but still nothing happened. He was taking the piss. I couldn't help but smile back as he got to his feet and returned to the crew at the PC, then addressed a few remarks to Charlie, probably telling him I was indeed the same man and maybe confirming to him that I was the only one on the ground earlier.

Charlie seemed very cool about things, not even turning to look at me. Instead he smiled and pinched both cheeks of the

Land Cruiser guy as he handed over the plastic bag carrying my docs. Charlie then went back and muttered to some more of his aides by the screen.

My Land Cruiser friend pulled out my roll of dollars from the bag, before leaving via the storeroom. Seconds later, one of the Hueys sparked up, turbos whining. Some of the lads were being lifted out.

The heli took off, thundering over the roof, as the staff meeting came to an end. They streamed back into the living area, Charlie in the lead, my bag of docs in his hand. He made a beeline towards me. I did my best to bury my face in my shoulder.

His mud-stained trainers stopped a foot or two away from my eyes, so new they didn't even have creases in the nylon yet. I concentrated on my shoulder as he crouched down with a crack of his knees and grabbed my hair. I just went with it: what was the point of resisting?

Our eyes met. His were dark brown and bloodshot, no doubt due to the force of the explosion. His skin was peppered with scabbed-up pockmarks from the shattered glass, and the side of his neck was dressed like that of the guy from the Land Cruiser. But for all that, he didn't look angry, just in command.

He stared at me, his expression impenetrable. I could smell his cologne and hear his steel watch strap jangle as he grabbed my chin with his spare hand.

The palm was soft, and well-manicured fingers pressed into my cheeks. There still was no anger in his eyes, no hint of any emotion whatsoever.

"Why are you people so stupid? All I wanted was some assurance the device wouldn't be used inside Panama. Then you could have had the launch control system. Some form of assurance, that's all." He threw my docs to the floor.

Instead, I have my family threatened ..."

I let the weight of my head rest in his hands, my eyelids drooping as he shook me about some more.

"So I comply and take the rest of your money, you then assure me everything is fine, just business. But still you try to kill my family. Do you know who I am?

What I can do to you, all of you people?"

He held me, looking at me, his eyes giving nothing.

"You are going to use Sunburn against a ship in the Miraflores that's the target, isn't it?" He shook me again.

"Why you are doing it, I don't care. But it will bring the US back that I care about a great deal."

As my face moved from side to side I caught glimpses of my passport and wallet, discarded in their plastic on the floor by the bookshelves, and both Aaron and Carrie, still covering Luz on the armchair, their faces red and set with fear.

Charlie brought his mouth to my ear and whispered, "I want to know where the missile is, and when the attack will take place. If not, well, some of my people here are only a few years older than that one in the chair and, like all young men, eager to display their manhood ... That's fair, isn't it? You set the rules children are now fair game, aren't they?"

He kept my head in his hands, waiting for my reply. I looked into his eyes and they told me what I needed to know: that none of us was going to leave here alive, no matter what we said or did.

It was Aaron who broke the silence, with a scoff: "He's just the hired help."

His voice was strong and authoritative.

"He was sent here to make you hand over the guidance system, that's all. He doesn't know a thing. None of us know where Sunburn is, but I can get on line at eight thirty tonight and find out. I'll do it just let these three go."

I studied Charlie's face as he stared at Aaron. It was a good try on Aaron's part, but a bit naive.

Carrie went ballistic.

"No, no what are you doing?" She begged Charlie, still hovering above me.

"Please, he-' Aaron cut in at once.

"Shut up. I've had enough, it's got to end. It's got to stop now!"

Charlie released my head and I let it fall to the floorboards, the right side of my face taking the hit. He wasn't too keen to have my hair grease on his hands and bent down to wipe it on my shirt before walking over to the coffee table.