Escape from Nicaragua

by Stephen Mertz

  They came to another area of volcanic action. The ground was a jumble, as if some great hand had thrust up from beneath. It was covered with a tangle of growth but less thick than what they had just left. It was a place made for ambush. Silently they separated so there were several yards between them, and waited.

  The pursuers appeared, moving cautiously—and were shot down, bringing bursts of AK fire that did no damage.

  It was an odd battle, silent on one side, and very soon the pursuers withdrew, presumably to discuss the situation.

  "They'll try to flank us," Stone said. "I vote we bug out."

  They left the enemy behind and turned east again, following a deep valley with a rushing stream that they crossed on footlocker-sized boulders. As the valley broadened they turned south and just before dark came across a road.

  "Hallelujah," Hog commented. "The highway to Hell."

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was a poor excuse for a road, nothing more than a tunnel cut in the jungle growth, a single track, a winding path, but it undoubtedly led to Lerida.

  "Where else would it go?" Loughlin asked. "Maybe to the Jungle Hilton?"

  The road had seen no scraper for a very long time—if ever. But it was probably easily passable to trucks. They would need more supplies and equipment at Lerida than helicopters could bring in—and troops had to be rotated constantly.

  They made camp in the middle of the road, built a fire, and rested. They were all light sleepers, Loughlin argued, why keep a watch? They were in the middle of nowhere, but Stone overruled him and took the first watch. He walked down the road as they slept, thinking about Eva. He had met a lot of girls, but none quite like her. What would she be like back in the States, where people weren't shooting at each other on sight? It was impossible for him to imagine her with a baby, for instance. Well, she probably couldn't imagine him in a settled existence, either. He smiled to himself. Neither could he.

  In the morning they followed the road, heading generally east and grateful for the easy going. Nothing was quite as tiring as pushing through a jungle of clinging vines and creepers. They marched steadily, and Stone wondered who had laid out the snakelike road. It must be a terrible chore keeping it open with the jungle trying to reclaim it daily.

  Every hour or so they halted for a breather.

  And as night fell they saw the lights behind them. They were flashing up and down as if someone were signaling.

  "It's trucks," Hog said. "Headlights!"

  "You bet your ass," Loughlin agreed. "And just in time, too. That's our ticket into the town."

  "Right!" Stone said. "How many are there, three or four?"

  "I'd guess four." Loughlin peered at them.

  "Then we grab the last one—unless it's full of troops. If so, let 'em go on by."

  "There's a hill up ahead." Loughlin began running. "It'll slow 'em down."

  They hurried and stationed themselves, Stone on one side, Hog and Loughlin on the other.

  "No shooting," Stone warned.

  They ducked out of sight and waited. It was a convoy of four trucks led by an armed jeep. A tactical error, Stone thought. The jeep should have brought up the rear.

  Boarding the last truck proved to be no trick at all Stone moved out as the loaded truck labored up the hill, grinding gears. He jumped on the running board, hearing the driver yell. He shoved the .44 Magnum in the man's startled face. In the next second Hog opened the door on the other side and slid in, grabbed the man, and hauled him out.

  Stone opened the door and got behind the wheel. It was all done in a moment.

  The truck had stalled, but Stone pushed the starter and got it going, and they chugged away after the others, leaving the driver lying in the middle of the road. He would have a terrible headache later . . .

  "Piece of cake," Loughlin said.

  It was a big, open-sided six-wheeler with a canvas tarp stretched over the load. They followed the truck ahead of them at more or less steady pace, bouncing and jolting over the ruts.

  It took two hours to reach Lerida.

  "It's not a town," Loughlin said in surprise. "It's a fort! It's got a bamboo wall around it."

  The jungle was cut away from the wall about a hundred yards all around. Big floodlights were on, making the entrance as bright as day. Hog and Loughlin ducked down as they got near. Apparently some signal had been given, probably a radio in the jeep. The gates were open, and they drove through into a wide, open area.

  There were several large buildings off to the right and a number of smaller ones along the bamboo wall. It was evident this was a military post; they saw no civilians at all. Lerida was a much smaller place than they'd expected.

  Stone followed the truck ahead of him, and as each pulled in and backed to a loading ramp under lights, he did the same. A crew of men had already started unloading the first truck.

  "OK," he said. "Nobody around. Slide out easy."

  Hog opened the door and jumped down, Loughlin on his heels. Stone got down on the other side, watching the men on the ramp. No one looked their way. Two men started to pull the tarp off the next truck in line.

  He joined the two others in the shadows of the building. They were in Lerida. Now where were the American agents?

  Two men tied husky Don Shepard to a chair in the small windowless room. Testing the knots, they stepped back and nodded to the third man.

  Nikol Volcheck lit a cigarette, pocketed the lighter, and faced Shepard. In a conversational voice he said pleasantly, "What I need from you is a complete picture of United States intentions in the Central American area. Would you prefer to dictate to a clerk, or would you rather write it out yourself?"

  Shepard shook his head. "I have no such knowledge. You need to ask the ambassador."

  Volcheck's thick brows rose. "Indeed? Let me make myself clearer. We are quite sure you have that knowledge and we are prepared to use any means to get it."

  "How can I tell you what I don't know?"

  Volcheck tapped an ash from the cigarette. "It is not my place to debate with you, Mr. Shepard. Let me tell you this: You are far from any habitation at the moment. Very far. Your government has no idea where you are and cannot help you. You are alone."

  "My government knows I was captured by Sandinista troops."

  Volcheck smiled. "Not so. Your government knows only that you and Mr. Harris disappeared. Unfortunately, no one survived the helicopter crash but the two of you. There is no one to tell anything. Your government will be told that bandits took you—if we decide on that course. As you are aware, it is easy to disappear forever in the jungle."

  Shepard stared at the other expressionlessly. "You are threatening me with—what?"

  Volcheck waved his hand. "Oh, I prefer to say I am telling you facts." He puffed the cigarette and snubbed it out. "Shall we get back to basics?" He rocked on his heels, hands in his coat pockets. "Do you wish to dictate or write it out yourself?"

  "I have nothing to say to you."

  Volcheck shrugged. He went to the door, opened it, and beckoned. A huge, well-muscled man in a formfitting T-shirt entered and made a little bow to the Russian.

  Volcheck said, "We will start now, Alexi."

  Stone led the way around the dark building, keeping in deep shadows. At the corner he paused; apparently all the larger buildings were in the center of the wide compound. The smaller ones were lined along the bamboo wall that surrounded the project. In front of him, as he peered around the corner, was a parked helicopter. To the right of the chopper were two battered trucks painted deep green. Beyond the trucks was a canvas-covered jeep. He saw no guard near them.

  But in a moment two men came along the far wall. They were talking, had slung weapons, and were obviously a perimeter guard.

  Everything looked normal. The driver they had left far behind in the road had not yet been missed—at least no alarm had been raised. So far so good.

  In which building were the C.I.A. men?

  Hog nudged him an
d Stone turned. Hog extended a burly arm, pointing. "That there's a barracks, or I'm a little yeller tadpole."

  Stone grunted assent. The building had a row of small windows along the side they could see. It certainly had the look of a barracks. The next building was a trifle smaller and had a large, black smokestack at the far end. Could it be a workshop or a kitchen? They would need both here. It was probably a kitchen and a mess hall.

  The building they stood beside was obviously a warehouse and supply depot. Looking up, Stone could see very few windows and those very small.

  That left two of the larger buildings. There were lights on in one; the other was dark.

  They could get to the lighted building by staying in the shadows. Stone pointed to the route and to Loughlin. He ran quickly to the shelter of the wall. Hog waited a moment and followed. No alarm.

  Stone ducked down and ran, lining up with them. Above their heads was an open window with mosquito netting tacked over it. They boosted Loughlin up to peer through. When they let him down, he said, "It looks like a rec room. Nobody in it. There's lights somewhere far back. Lemme cut the netting."

  He pulled his knife and slit the netting along the bottom. This time when he looked he said, "It's a rec hall all right. The lights are upstairs."

  "Let's go in," Stone decided. Maybe the prisoners were up there. They boosted Loughlin up again, and he slid through the window and pulled Hog up. Stone passed up his weapons, and they hauled him into the room. They were in a small, unlit recreation room. It had a pool table, two pinball machines, and half a dozen tables. Loughlin looked into the hall. It was dark, with a small bulb burning at the far end near a stairway.

  Across the hall was a heavily screened armory room.

  Stone examined the lock. "Can we get into that?"

  Hog said, "It'll make some noise . . ."

  "I saw some pillows in the rec room." Loughlin went back and returned with them. Hog took them, pressed them tightly against the lock with his body, and used a short, thick-bladed knife. He worked at it for several minutes, swearing under his breath. The lock was imbedded in the wood upright, and he dug the lock out completely, then yanked the door open. There was a loud splintering sound and Hog slipped inside.

  Stone said, "Terrance—guard." Loughlin raised his silenced pistol, and Stone slipped into the room with Hog.

  Hog asked, "What we lookin' for?"

  "Flashlights—explosives—grenades—"

  "Well, what about these?" Hog pulled a heavy box forward on a shelf. Stone smiled. It was a box of grenades.

  They filled three gunnysacks with them and handed one to Loughlin. Stone said. "Now upstairs. See what's there."

  As they came out of the room a voice called, "Que desea ustedes?"

  A man had just come down the stairs and was standing at the end of the hall, frowning at them. Apparently he decided they were suspicious. He groped at the holster at his belt, and Hog put three shots into his chest. The man was slammed back against the wall and crumpled. Someone shouted from the stairs.

  "Shit!" Loughlin growled. "The fat's in the fire!"

  "The next building," Stone said. "Quick."

  Loughlin ran for the door with Hog behind him.

  Stone fired two shots at movement near the end of the hall and jumped outside as a hail of bullets smashed the door behind him to bits.

  Almost instantly an alarm bell began to ring and the sound was immediately taken up by another bell on the far side of the compound.

  Hog snapped several shots at the floodlights nearby, and they shattered, darkening the yard. The next building was smaller. Two guards came to the door, and Loughlin sprayed them with his Uzi. One sprawled on the steps, and Hog jumped over the body and yanked the door open. Loughlin instantly tossed in a grenade. Hog closed the door and stood aside as the blast thundered and smoke seeped through cracks.

  Stone threw two grenades at the building they had just left. One hit the steps and exploded outside; the other went through the door, and the blast lit up the area for a second.

  As he ran through the door after Hog, he saw fire gush up.

  Loughlin's Uzi stuttered in the hall. There was a line of closed doors. The last one was open, shattered by the burst from the Uzi. A body lay on the floor, facedown.

  Men were shouting outside. Stone guessed that no one knew what was happening or who had attacked them. The three raiders had caused pandemonium. The building they had just left was burning fiercely, lighting up the yard. That would take their attention.

  He ran to the second-story steps. A man was coming down.

  The Walther barked, and two shots sent the man sprawling backward. The body slipped down several steps and halted. The man's pistol bumped to the bottom.

  Pausing at the top of the stairs, Stone glanced around. He was in a guardroom with steel-barred cells. This must be it! He called, "Anyone here—anyone home?"

  Two voices answered instantly. "Hell, yes! Over here!"

  Two men were clinging to bars in two separate cells, both grinning at him. One was stocky and one lean, but the stocky one looked as if someone had worked him over pretty good with a rubber hose.

  Stone asked, "Where're the keys?"

  "On the desk over there." The rangy man pointed. Loughlin was at the top of the stairs, the Uzi ready. Stone ran to the deck, grabbed up a ring of keys, and ran back to the cells.

  The stocky man asked, "Who are you guys?"

  "Friends," Stone said, trying one key after another. "Colonel Haskins sent us."

  "Jesus!" the lean man said. "Haskins, huh?"

  He got the first door open, and the lean man hurried out. "I'm Harris," he said, "he's Shepard."

  Automatic fire chattered at the bottom of the steps.. Loughlin drawled, "Can you snap it up, chums?"

  The second door opened, and Stone ran for the stairs. "Come on." He dropped the keys and followed Loughlin down. Hog met them at the bottom, motioning toward the back. "There's a mob out front."

  "Right." They ran to the back as Hog pulled the pins on two grenades and hurled them through the front door.

  Loughlin fired short bursts at the floodlights, shattering them. "There's a jeep over there—"

  Harris said, "Why not take the chopper?"

  "Because none of us can fly the bloody thing," Loughlin told him.

  "Well, I flew one in Nam. I think I can remember. . . ."

  Bullets began to rap into the building behind them. A group of soldiers ran toward them from the right, led by a man in civilian clothes who waved his arms in anger.

  "Down," Stone growled. They hit the dirt, hearing Harris say, "That's that sonofabitch Volcheck!"

  The soldiers were brightly lit by the burning building. Harris had picked up an AK dropped by one of the guards in the building. He lay full length, aimed, and squeezed off a long burst.

  Stone saw the shots smash into the Russian, shattering his chest.

  Volcheck went to his knees, then fell on his face. The burst also took out two soldiers near him. Hog hit one of the others and the rest scattered.

  Stone heard voices in the building behind them. Turning, he flung a grenade through the door. It exploded just inside, and Loughlin rolled another down the hall. Its blast echoed and someone screamed. The building began to bum at the far end.

  But the helicopter was a long way across the dark yard.

  Someone was getting an organized resistance together. They heard orders shouted, and several soldiers ran from far to their right. Hog fired single rounds at them, knocking one ass over teakettle.

  "Let's try for the chopper," Stone said grimly. "Terry in front—go!"

  They ran a dozen paces and a fusillade screamed at them from the left. Loughlin ducked down, rolling, pulling the pin, tossing the grenade all in one fluid motion. Hog threw another and the explosions came almost together.

  Someone was firing from an angle of the building far to their left. Too far for a grenade. Stone rolled, brought up the AK-47, cradling it. His burs
t smashed the corner, shattering the wood. He waited a few seconds and fired another.

  The burning building was a torch, lighting the entire compound bright as sunlight, creating deep shadows. The second building was flaming, though they could hear frantic yells as someone tried to put out the fire.

  The helicopter sat like a fat duck a hundred yards away. Could they reach it? Stone glanced to his right. The shadows were thick along the bamboo wall. Maybe that was the better route.

  Somebody fired at them from one of the upper windows of the near building.

  Hog rolled onto his back and his Uzi stuttered, shattered the window, and moved to the next. He shoved in a new magazine. "Let's get outa the limelight, neighbors."

  Stone pointed. "Head for the wall." He began firing as they ran. Shepard hadn't moved. He nudged the man. "Get your ass in gear!"

  No movement.

  He looked closer. Jesus!

  There was a red hole where Shepard's ear had been. The guy wasn't going anywhere.

  Shit.

  Stone got up and ran to join the others as Hog and Loughlin gave him covering fire. It was dark as hell by the wall, but the entire yard was bright. The fat duck stood out in bold relief.

  So close and yet so far.

  Could they possibly get to it, get it started, and take off before they were sliced to pieces?

  Not likely.

  He saw the glum looks on their faces. None of them thought they would make it.

  Chapter Twenty

  What other alternatives did they have? They could go over the bamboo wall into the jungle. But they had no rations now. It was obviously impossible to grab one of the trucks, as impossible as getting the chopper off the ground.

  Besides, General Perez and his government troops would know where they were in a few hours—maybe someone was sending out a report this second.

  The area for twenty miles in every direction would be covered. Perez would put everybody but his shoeshine boy on the line. They would all end up like Shepard.