Operation Che Guevara

by Nick Carter

  "Excellente!" Olo grinned at me.

  "All right," I said. "Let's move."

  I got up and edged carefully along the line of trees until I was in a clump of brush directly across from the cave. I raised my rifle and decided to help the others as much as possible by taking out one of the sentries on the roof of the cavern. I fired carefully, one shot. He toppled from his perch like a stone knocked loose from the hillside.

  There was a fraction of a moment's silence, then I stood up and started to run, letting them see me. All hell broke loose behind me, as the guerrillas grabbed their rifles and charged after me. I ducked into the trees, turned and fired again, taking time to aim. Another of them toppled. I fired a few more shots at random and started to race in and out of the trees.

  The bulk of them chased after me, firing wildly as they ran. But wildly or not, bullets pinged all around me, and I hit the ground. I lay quiet, hearing them fan out to beat the bushes for me. I waited a moment, then got up and started running again. A hail of lead whipped past my ears and slapped into the trees. I dived for the ground, caught a glimpse of two of my pursuers through the brush. I fired. It served to slow them down a bit, but they kept on coming. They were getting damned close, and I wondered what the hell was holding up Olo and the others. I'd told him to give me plenty of time to draw them away from the cave; I didn't expect him to give them time to kill me.

  Just then I heard the fusillade of shots, coming so close together they sounded almost like one. The firing was repeated and my pursuers turned, as I'd figured they would, and raced back toward the cave, shouting and cursing.

  I got up then fell backwards as a shot creased my scalp. One of the guerrillas had stayed behind; I heard him running toward me as I lay on the ground. I lay on my back, eyes closed and let him think he'd got me. I could sense him standing over me.

  When he reached down with his rifle to prod my corpse, I grabbed the barrel and rolled, yanking the rifle from his hands. He dived for me, but I thrust the rifle up, holding it with both hands, and his face smashed into the barrel. He groaned with pain and fell off to the side. I fired point-blank at him as he tried to roll away and saw part of his head disappear.

  I kept the rifle and started back for the cave, running with a carbine in each hand.

  As I came up on the battlesite and from the rear I saw the guerrillas crouched behind trees and rocks, exchanging fire with Olo and the others inside the cave. I saw something else, too, which, in our eagerness, Olo and I hadn't thought through.

  While those inside the cave had the best protected positions and it would be impossible to rush them without being slaughtered, they were also pinned down. The guerrillas realized this too. As I crouched low, I saw one of them dispatched to get help. He ran, crouched over, first back toward where I was hiding, then cutting across for the safety of the surrounding trees.

  I could have brought him down easily, but then the others would have known their messenger had been intercepted. I decided to let them think he was safely away and slipped through the trees after him. I dropped the dead guerrilla's rifle — one was enough of a load to carry — as I tracked the running man through the woods. He was intent on going for help and didn't hear me following.

  I didn't want to use the rifle; the sound of a shot would carry back easily. But he was taking me into wild country where I could be lost for days. He knew the territory, but to me it was a maze of trees and bushes. I had to get him before he went much further. I quickened my pace, risking having him hear me to catch up with him.

  He was at the top of a small ridge, visible through a bent tree trunk, when he stopped and turned. He had heard me crashing through the brush, coming up behind him. I dropped to the ground.

  I lay still and watched him through a screen of leaves before my face. He had lowered his rifle and was carefully moving back toward me, searching the brush, his eyes darting back and forth, watching for some movement, some sign of his pursuer. I watched him come closer, holding the carbine ready to fire. If I made a move, he'd shoot.

  I dropped Hugo into the palm of my hand. The cool of the stiletto felt cool against my skin. I was stretched out almost prone. It was a hell of a position from which to throw a knife. In fact, I realized, it was impossible. I had to get up on one elbow at least, and he'd have a rifle slug in me before I could get the throw off. Suddenly Mother Nature came to my aid, bless her unpredictable heart. She's played me dirty enough times in the past, so it was time for a good deed on her part.

  An anaconda, a small one not more than six feet long, moved in the grass, and the man whirled, a split-second away from firing. He saw the constrictor slithering near him. The split-second was all I needed. I rose up on one elbow and flung Hugo with all my might. The guerrilla heard me but the stiletto hit him before he could turn back, going deep into his chest. He staggered and the rifle fell from his hands. He grasped at the handle of the stiletto in a futile effort to pull it out, staggered again and fell backwards. I heard his last breath escape him as I walked over to retrieve Hugo.

  Carefully, to be sure I wouldn't get lost in the rapidly fading light, I retraced my path down the mountainside. The sound of the rifle fire at the cave was my best guide, and soon I was back behind the guerrillas as they exchanged fire with Olo and the others.

  Olo had done a good job. There were not more than six or seven of the enemy left alive. I settled down in the brush, drew a bead on the nearest one and fired. I didn't wait to see him topple over but immediately swung my sights to the next man and sent a slug through him.

  By the time I'd zeroed in on number three, the surviving three had realized what was happening. Thinking they were caught in a crossfire between two groups, they ran for it, dropping their rifles in their hurry. I brought one more down on the run before the last two disappeared into the forest. I knew they wouldn't stop till they reached El Garfio.

  I called out and saw Luis, then Manuel emerge from the cave. Olo and Eduardo came out supporting Cesare. He had taken a bullet through the upper arm, a painful but not serious wound. As Manuel and Luis bound the wound, Olo and I broke open a box of rifle bullets, emptied the powder from them in a trail leading into the cave to where some fifty boxes of ammunition and perhaps as many rifles were cached. We sprinkled a little more of the gunpowder over the boxes for good measure, then left the cave. Outside we set fire to the trail of gunpowder, then ran for the woods.

  The explosion inside the cave was muffled, but the ground shook and rocks and dirt slid down the mountainside. Olo was standing beside me, grinning. "It is finished, amigo," he said joyfully.

  "This part of it," I agreed. "Let's start back."

  There was little of the day left, and we had to stop as darkness came. But this night we slept the sleep of well-satisfied, triumphant men.

  14th

  The trip back wasn't not too slow, considering that Cesare was wounded. We reached the tapera by nightfall the next day. But this time I would not go back to La Paz alone.

  "If things go the way I expect," I told them, "I will be meeting with El Garfio soon. If he really is Che Guevara, my job will be to capture him or kill him. I am going to walk into the lion's den, you could say. He will have the upper hand when we meet, and one never knows what may go wrong. I want to set this up so you can strike at the right moment. So, I will take Manuel back to La Paz with me. As soon as I know the exact details of the meeting, I will tell him, and he'll bring you my instructions."

  "Agreed," Olo grunted. "We will wait for your word."

  Manuel beside me, I left after a round of handshakes and returned to the helicopter. Though it was a one-man model, Manuel managed to squeeze in and we took off. Setting down again at Cochabamba, we put the 'copter in the warehouse for what I hoped would be the last time.

  "Do you drive, Manuel?" I asked as we got into the old Ford.

  "Si," he nodded.

  "Good," I said. "You'll probably have to take this old heap back as far as you can go into the mountains and g
o on yourself from there when you come back."

  At the hotel in La Paz, I rented a small room for Manuel and gave him orders to stay there, out of sight, until he heard from me. He was to have all his meals sent to his room. I didn't want any slipups at this crucial time.

  I managed to get a few hours sleep between early dawn and mid-morning when the phone rang. For the second time, it announced the imminent arrival of Señorita Yolanda Demas. It was to be almost a repeat of her last visit — with a few important variations.

  VI

  15th

  I had put on slacks and an unbuttoned shirt when she knocked. I opened the door. She was wearing the same claret dress, but the haughty manner was missing. Instead, there was a tension about her I felt the moment she entered the room.

  "I had to see you," she said, her eyes flashing, her lips gleaming as she moistened them with her tongue, nervously this time not to tempt me.

  I went up to her and kissed her, letting my tongue find hers in an erotic duel. I felt her relax for a moment, but then she tore her mouth from mine.

  "Stop," she said. "Later… please. Now I must have those guns."

  "You must?" I said, raising my eyebrows.

  "My mine was attacked yesterday by some of El Garfio's men," she said. "I can't wait any longer, don't you see?"

  I see, honey, I thought. I see a lot. There hadn't been time for the grapevine to carry news of our raid on the cave arsenal. Only someone directly involved would know about it this soon, someone in radio contact with Yolanda Demas.

  "El Garfio, eh?" I said lazily. "You mean Che Guevara, don't you?"

  I shot that last out and saw her eyes widen in confusion and surprise. She tried to cover up, stammered nervously, "I… I don't understand. It was El Garfio… I told you."

  I grabbed her by the hair and yanked her forward. "Get off it, you little bitch," I said harshly. "It's Che Guevara, and you're working for him."

  "No, no," she cried wildly. "You are making a mistake. I don't know what you're talking about."

  I twisted her hair and pulled and she fell to her knees with a cry of pain. "Stop lying!" I yelled at her. "I went looking for your tin mine." I figured that would do for starters and explain my knowing she was a fraud.

  It worked. She struggled to her knees. Her hand came at me, nails clawing for my face. I ducked away, but she was at me like a tigress. I grabbed her arm and twisted, sending her spinning around with her back to me. With my other hand I unzipped her dress and grabbed one of her breasts. I pulled her around, my hand pressing the breast, kneading it. I saw her eyes darken with desire. I kissed her, and she clutched me, half-crying, half-cursing. I forced her back onto the sofa, keeping my hand on her breast.

  "I don't like to be lied to," I said. "It would have been better if you'd told me the truth in the first place."

  She frowned, pouted like a child as she looked up at me. "You are telling me the truth?"

  "More than you told me," I answered. "I will sell my guns to Che Guevara. I would be honored. After all, such a deal will help me when I return home. The East German government is, after all, emotionally allied with your cause. Why didn't you just come to me and tell me who you really were?"

  "Oh, no!" she gasped. "That would have been against all my instructions. It was better to purchase the guns as someone else… much safer. There are spies and those who would betray us."

  She pressed her hand over mine, rubbing my palm over her breast.

  "Oh, God, if only there were time to stay here with you this morning," she moaned.

  "What's the big rush today?" I asked.

  "I cannot tell you," she said, "But I am to offer you twice what anyone else has offered."

  "I will do better than that for you, Yolanda," I said, rubbing my thumb over her nipple and feeling it rise instantly. I leaned over to kiss her, letting my tongue flick over her lips. She shuddered.

  "I like you very much, you know," I said. "I want this to be an important thing for both of us. I will give Che Guevara the arms — all he needs — if I can be sure that he really lives, that I meet him and see him with my own eyes."

  "I think I can arrange that," she said slowly. "I can let you know in a few hours, perhaps."

  "Good," I said. "Arrange the time for me to meet him and I will take him to where the guns are kept. Naturally, that is my secret and must remain so until delivery."

  She stood, zipped up the dress and went to the door. "I'll be back," she said.

  I waited ten minutes after she left, then took out the cigarette lighter. I nicked it on and off and waited. I heard static and then Hawk's voice, crisp but a little faint. I swore. This was no time for the damned thing to give out!

  "I have you, Nick," I heard him repeat. "I have you."

  "Proceed with phase three," I said. "Proceed with phase three. I probably won't have a chance to make further radio contact. Have your people proceed as planned. Watch for signal from the cove above Cuya. Tomorrow night or the night after."

  "Will do," Hawk answered. "Putting phase three into operation at once. Good luck."

  I flicked off the lighter and dropped it into my pocket. The ball was all mine now. I stretched out on the bed to get some sleep. The next 48 hours, I knew, would be short on sleep and long on tension. Besides, Yolanda would be back and, if I knew my women, with certain ideas. But I had a few for her too.

  It was night before she arrived back at the hotel, which was good because I, had the chance to get in a good sleep.

  "It is arranged," she said simply. "I will take you to the place where you will meet, a ranch just west of Tarata. Che is coming in this far to meet you, because he wants to pick up the arms himself."

  Tarata! In my mind I visualized the map of Bolivia. Tarata was just south of Cochabamba. It figured. He would come in, his men filtering down from the mountains. From Tarata he could strike out in any direction and retreat into the hills again if need be.

  "I wanted to stay here with you tonight," Yolanda pouted. "But I am to report back with your answer. Do you agree with the arrangement?"

  "Of course I agree," I said, taking her in my arms. "And I want you too, tonight. But I have a better plan. Will you be going with us to pick up the arms?"

  "No," she said quickly. "I am only to direct you to the ranch."

  "All right, then, here's what I want you to do," I said, trying to make it sound very secretive and exciting. "On the road beyond El Puente, there is a giant puya marking a small mountain road."

  "Si." She nodded. "I know the spot"

  "Good," I said. "Just up the little road, is an abandoned mission. When this is over, when Che has the arms, I want you to meet me there."

  I pulled her to me and ran my hands quickly over her body. With the fierce, animal earthiness that was natural to her, she responded at once, and I had a harder job turning her off than on.

  "I presume I am to meet Che tomorrow night?" I said, keeping my voice casual. I knew damn well he wouldn't be coming in so close to Cochabamba with his men by daylight.

  "Si," she said. "Nine o'clock." I did some fast calculating. I could get the guns into his hands within four hours if we went by car or truck. Four hours to return would bring us close to five o'clock in the morning.

  "Meet me at the old mission an hour past dawn," I told her. "Wait there until I arrive. There could be delays. Then we can be alone there, just the two of us."

  She nodded eagerly. If she'd realized the only reason I wanted her at that mission was to pick her up and turn her over to the authorities, she'd have been trying to kill me now. Earthy, exciting little creature that she was, she was still a part of Guevara's cutthroat operation.

  "Now, how do I get to the ranch?" I asked, holding her to me and gently rubbing her back.

  "Go south from Tarata," she said, her voice slightly muffled by my chest. "There is only one road. You will see the ranch on your right, The bam is old with a red roof."

  She kissed me then quickly and was gone.


  I went to Manuel's room next and told him what was planned for phase three. When I finished, he was staring at me with wide, round eyes. "It is fantastic," he said. "But it seems to me that a lot of big things depend on a lot of small things."

  "It is always that way in this business," I said, but I knew he was right. The success of this mission hung on a lot of tenuously connected bits and pieces. Each had to come off right or the whole thing would come apart and I'd come apart with it. First, there was the meeting with Guevara, that moment when I would learn if it was really Che or some pretender. Then I had to get him to where the arms were and deliver them into his hands. Then I had to return to the ranch with him. Only then would I get my chance to strike. At any one of these points something could go wrong. Che could smell a rat or some unexpected development could trip me up. But, of all the points, the last was the most crucial.

  "You and the others must be ready to strike when we return to the ranch," I told Manuel. "Unless you keep his men busy, I will have no chance to get him."

  "We will be there, Nick," Manuel promised. "You may be sure of it."

  "I will need the car to get to Tarata," I said. "So well have to find another way for you to get back to Cochabamba and start into the mountains."

  "There is a bus to Cochabamba," he answered. "I will take it in the morning and be at the camp in plenty of time. Vaya con Dios, Nick." We shook hands solemnly, and he was gone.

  I went back to my suite, a feeling of anticipation rising in me. It was a feeling I knew well. I always had it when I knew I was about to come to grips with whatever I was after. By tomorrow night I'd know if a legend still lived or not.