by Lou Cameron
Captain Gringo took another sip of coffee before he said, “Keep talking. I feel better now that I know it’s something sneaky,”
Gaston said, “Eh bien, as you know, your somewhat unpredictable Uncle Sam has been trying to complete the Panama Canal abandoned by the French syndicate that started it. American interests bought out the stock of the bankrupt French. Yankee ingenuity would no doubt make short work of the few modest mountains left between the Atlantic and Pacific, if, alas, the government of Colombia would only be reasonable.”
Captain Gringo said, “Get to the damned point. Everyone knows Colombia owns the Isthmus of Panama and isn’t about to let anyone else dig another cubic yard of anything, unless they’re willing to pay through the nose for the dubious privilege.”
Gaston nodded and said, “Exactly. Knowing a formidable amount of lives and money have already been invested in the stalled project, the junta in Bogota continues to make impossible demands. Meanwhile, there are many ways to deprive a chat of its adorable skin, non?”
Captain Gringo grimaced and said, “Oh, shit, I hope you’re not talking about another half-ass funded revolution down that way, pal. When we fought for the old Balboa Brigade that time, we learned the hard way that Colombia has a pretty good army, remember?”
Gaston nodded and replied, “With pain and sorrow. But as you just pointed out, those rebels had half an ass. Forget the lost cause of the unfortunate Balboa Brigade. The new unit we’ll be working for is funded indeed, and already set up and dug in.”
“Why do they need us, then?”
“As training officers, of course. Money, supplies, and trés moderne weapons are already pouring in. The problem is that the rebels backed by Washington and Wall Street, if there is any difference, do not know as much as they should about machine guns, breech-loading field guns, and so forth. That is where you and I come in.”
Captain Gringo frowned thoughtfully and asked, “Why? Has West Point gone out of business? It seems to me that if I were running things back home I’d send in some regular army guys before I’d hire a guy wanted for murder and desertion!”
Gaston chuckled dryly and replied, “That is no doubt why you are not running things back home, my idealistic youth. I just told you the whole operation is unofficial and burn-before-reading. It would be an act of war to send anyone on the U.S. payroll to help overthrow an established and nominally friendly government, non?”
Captain Gringo shrugged and said, “I said I believed the sneaky part. Okay. When do we leave for where?”
Gaston looked surprised and asked, “Merde alors, just like that, sans the usual tedious argument? Eh bien, our discreet coastal schooner will be waiting for us in Limón . It will put in with us and more ammo at Laguna Chiriqui, weather and Colombian gunboats permitting.”
Captain Gringo finished his coffee, put down the cup, and said, “Let’s move it out, then. We can still make the night train to Limon if we hurry.”
Gaston grinned and said, “I must be improving with age. I expected to have to drag you kicking and screaming all the way. What did it, the offer of a possible pardon?”
Captain Gringo snorted in disgust and said, “I’ll believe that when the tooth fairy leaves a dime under my pillow. There’s something fishy as hell about the whole deal, and you’d never get me anywhere near Panama again if it was still safe to stay here in Costa Rica.”
As they left together Gaston asked, “What am I missing, Dick? Who could be after us here in Costa Rica?”
Captain Gringo said, “There’s nobody after you. The poor slob is after me. I don’t want to talk about it. When a guy acts as dumb as I did tonight, he deserves to go to hell. But Panama is closer and it might not be much worse.”
*
When they got off the train in Limón at dawn, the lowland seaport was wrapped in fog as thick and warm as pea soup. Gaston said he’d been told they would be contacted and given further instructions at the Hotel Alhambra by someone from the quasi-official outfit they’d be working for. Gaston had no idea who or when, so the two soldiers of fortune checked in and took adjoining rooms. Anyone who’d just ridden the night train from San José down the endless hairpin curves of the Sierra Oriental on a hardwood coach seat could do with a hot tub soak and an hour or so stretched out on a soft mattress. The people who were looking for them knew where to find them.
Captain Gringo undressed alone in his own hotel room and draped his still-damp clothes over a couple of chairs under the ceiling fan hopefully to dry a bit. He naturally took his wallet, shoulder rig, and other valuables into the bathroom with him. He’d noticed that the lock between him and the hall was pretty primitive. But he doubted if anyone would steal a straw planter’s hat, or damp linen that probably wouldn’t fit many natives, in such a classy hotel.
He locked the bathroom door and ran a hot tub as he used the flush commode. The sanitary facilities on the night train had been pretty rough, too.
He got into the tub, lathered himself with a bar of hotel soap that was almost hard enough to use as one of the white bathroom tiles, and lay back to soak. It felt good. At least they hadn’t stinted on the hot water. He’d soaked about half an hour and was considering whether to get out or run some more hot water when he heard something sneaky going on in the room outside. He hadn’t booked a double room, and Gaston knew enough to knock discreetly before he popped in on a guy with a gun.
The talk American froze in the tub as he strained his ears. He heard it again. It sounded like the rustle of dry silk. His own clothes out there were damp linen, and hardly apt to wander around with nobody inside them in any case.
Captain Gringo slowly got out of the tub, careful not to splash or slosh. Whoever was tossing his room might not know he’d been bathing instead of out. He slid his .38 from the shoulder holster he’d hung near the tub. Then, naked and still wet, he popped out of the john, armed and dangerous.
As he moved in on the figure near the brass bedstead he saw at a glance that the hall door was shut and that the intruder was a dame in a tan pongee dress with her back to him. Or at least she had had her back to him as she’d been opening a drawer of the bed table; then she stiffened and half-turned toward him as he charged.
Her ears and the little nickel-plated whore pistol in her right hand were too slow for Captain Gringo. He dove at her in a flying tackle and disarmed her with his free hand as they fell together across the bed. They bounced like hell with her on the bottom until the springs recovered from the surprise. She looked pretty surprised too as she stared up at him in terror. He had her pinned with his dripping upper torso crushed against her well-filled pongee bodice and one wet thigh between her own. His naked flesh could feel, through her now-damp pongee, that whoever she was she didn’t wear anything under her tropic dress. As she struggled weakly under him, her nicely put together curves felt yummy. Her face wasn’t bad, either. She was a dishwater blonde of about twenty-five. Her frightened eyes were pale gray. She wore no makeup. So her lips were pale as she pleaded, “Don’t hurt me! I’ll do anything you say!”
He grinned down at her and said, “You’re so right. Just lay still and let me sort out the security situation here. Okay, your gun’s on the far side of the bed on the rug. I don’t think I need this gun. So we’ll just toss it to the foot of the bed for now.”
He started patting her down for other hardware with the hand he’d just freed for action. She gasped and protested, “That’s my breast you have your hand on, sir!”
He said, “I noticed. It feels like a dangerous weapon indeed, but I don’t see how I can take it off you, so what the hell.”
He shifted his weight and ran his hand down her now-damp torso to find, as he’d suspected, that she wasn’t even wearing a corset. When he got to the really interesting parts, she stiffened, bit her lower lip, and said, “All right. But please don’t hurt me!”
He hadn’t been thinking of raping her. He’d only wanted to make sure she wasn’t one of those sneaky dames who packed a rod be
tween her thighs in one of those tricky garter holsters. On the other hand, if she was offering, he didn’t want her to think he was a sissy. So he proceeded to pull her thin pongee skirt up between them as he felt himself rising to the occasion.
She felt what was coming to life against her now-naked thigh, too, and gasped as she said, “Oh, my God, they told me you were a big man, but please be gentle, Captain Gringo!”
So he was. He wedged her thighs apart with his own legs and slid the turgid tip of his old organ grinder up and down the slit between her trembling limbs to lubricate them both before he slowly shoved it in. She hissed in mingled pleasure and dismay until it was all the way in her. Then she relaxed and surrendered completely, saying, “You won’t hurt me, after, will you?”
As he screwed her at a polite conversational pace to let her get used to the idea, Captain Gringo said, “Let’s talk about that. You know who I am. So you have the advantage on me, ma’am.”
She giggled despite her anxiety and replied, “I’m Alice Redford, British Intelligence. I swear I meant you no harm.”
“Right. That nickel-plated .32 was a present you were sent to slip under my pillow. What the fuck do you Brits have to do with me now? I told your cheap boss, Greystoke, that I didn’t want to work for you lime juicers anymore. Every time I have, I’ve been shortchanged.”
She spread her legs wider and began to respond to his slow thrusts with sensuous movements of her own as she murmured, “Could we talk about it after we climax, sir? I confess I’m beginning to enjoy what you’re doing to me too much to be interrogated in depth and … speaking of depth …”
He laughed and said, “Yeah, let’s do this right.”
She was willing. She helped as he unbuttoned her and slipped the dress up over her head without dismounting. He told her to lock her legs around him, and when she did he moved farther up on the bed with her and slid a pillow under her now most cooperative derriere. Then, as she wrapped her arms as well around his naked body, they kissed for the first time and proceeded to do it right until they’d shared a long protracted orgasm.
As he stopped to get his second wind, Alice throbbed warmly on his soaking shaft as she sighed and said, “Oh, that was lovely. You’re right about British Intelligence not paying very well. But this was an unexpected bonus indeed! Could we do it again, darling?”
He said, “In a minute. Before I call anyone darling, we’d better take advantage of this moment of sanity to learn more about you. What were you looking for just now?”
She moved her hips teasingly and said, “Not this. But I’m so glad I found it.”
“I am, too. But cut the bullshit, doll. You were tossing my room when I came out to make friends with you. What were you expecting to find?”
She shrugged, moving her nipples nicely against his bare chest, and said, “Anything interesting, of course. There’s no sense in pretending we don’t know about you signing up with Los Jurados. But Her Majesty’s Service likes to gather all the details, and frankly we’re confused about you Yanks. I see you have nothing on paper that would be any use to us. If I could, ah, make it worth your while, could you fill me in a bit on this rather grotesque power play?”
Captain Gringo had already found out something he hadn’t known before. Up to now, nobody had mentioned the name of the rebel faction they were supposed to be joining. So, to keep her talking as well as slowly screwing, he said. “What you’re giving me is worth my while indeed, doll box. But you didn’t find much because I honestly don’t know much. Since you know who I am and where I’m going, I’m not giving much away when I tell you that’s about as much as I know about the job, so far. To tell the truth, you seem to know all the angles. So how come the rebels call themselves a jury and how come my old pal Greystoke thinks they’re grotesque?”
She replied, “Unless Whitehall’s missing something, Washington’s plan is utterly stupid. You’re never going to overthrow the Colombian junta with a ragtag band of guerrilla fanatics. We’ve offered to back you Yanks when and if your silly President Cleveland stops playing games and simply sends in the gunboats and marines. Great Britain wants the Panama Canal completed as much or more than you do. We have a bigger navy and merchant fleet and it’s a bother going all the way around Cape Horn.”
Then she dug her nails into his bare buttocks and moaned. “I wish you’d stop teasing me with your own naughty horn and excavate my canal in earnest, damm it!”
He chuckled and started moving faster. But apparently it wasn’t fast enough. She pleaded, “Let me get on top. You’re driving me crazy, sliding all that lovely stuff in and out so casually!”
He grinned, rolled off, and stretched out on his back for her, as he casually shoved the .38 off the foot of the bed. Alice rolled atop him, settled on his shaft again, and murmured, “Oh, it feels even more so, this way. Did you really think I’d try to shoot you with your own gun, darling?”
He said, “Since you can’t, now, let’s not worry about it.” So they didn’t. The pale blonde leaned forward to brace her upper weight with two soft palms flat against his chest and her firm milky breasts squeezed between her soft upper arms as she got her nether regions in a very interesting position, with her high-button shoes flat on the mattress on either side of his hips so she could move on his erection like a sex-mad Cossack dancer.
He would have closed his eyes in pleasure if he really trusted her. As it was, the view was inspiring him to new heights as she slid her velvet lining rapidly up and down. He could tell she’d taken dancing lessons at some time in her shady past, for her legs had to be powerful as well as shapely to sustain the delightful effort. As it was, she began to sweat despite the pleasant draft from the overhead fan before she managed to satisfy herself. When she did begin to climax, she couldn’t keep going and feel weakly down against him, moving awkwardly with it only half in her as she sobbed and said, “Oh, Christ, I’m right on the very edge and I can’t get over it!”
He knew exactly how she felt. So he rolled her over on her back, hooked an elbow under each of her upraised knees, and long dicked her to glory with his own arms locked in a push-up position, while she came again and again around his plunging manhood. She was pleading for mercy when he, satisfied himself as well and collapsed atop her, kissing her passionately for being such a good little girl. When they came up for air, Alice murmured, “I think you’ve ruined me for life, and I’m ever so grateful to British Intelligence! My God, to think I might have missed out on that if you hadn’t caught me being naughty, you naughty boy!”
He chuckled and said, “I’m starting to admire the Union Jack, too. I don’t know where in the hell Greystoke recruits you nubile operators. But he sure picks great lays. Did you have to show him how good you were in the hay before he sent you out to spy on people, Alice?”
She pouted her lush lower lip and said, “Don’t be beastly. This is the first time I’ve been required to do this on Her Majesty’s service.”
He said, “You sure do it great, for a beginner. I’m still hot.”
She pulsated teasingly on his semi-erection and said with a sigh, “So I notice. But I really must be getting back to the embassy, dear. Ah, you do intend to let me leave here alive, don’t you?”
He laughed and said, “Not yet,” as he began to move in her again.
She protested, “No, really, darling, I have to report back before they begin to worry about me. They warned me you were dangerous and told me to be very very careful. If I don’t return soon, they’ll think something happened to me and.. .Oh, Lord, something is happening to me again! But hurry, hurry—I really have to get dressed and out of here before all sorts of people come bursting in to rescue me!”
That sounded reasonable. So he rolled her over on her hands and knees to hump her that way, knowing it was the quickest way to come. The pale blonde buried her face in the bedding, moaning with pure animal pleasure as she thrust her white rump invitingly up for his and her pleasure. But as usual, the third time took a little long
er, for him, at least. She came ahead of him, or said she had, and relaxed to let him finish. He kept moving, but as long as she seemed calm enough to carry on a sensible conversation now, he told her, “Okay. Here’s the deal. You go back to your outfit, tell ’em you got away with tossing my room but didn’t find anything. Tell ’em you’re going to try and get the info out of me the usual seductive way, and if we play it right we can have a nice dinner on British Intelligence before we do this some more this evening, right?”
She laughed and said, “You’re awful. Would you really tell me anything if I seduced you, darling?”
“You already have, so ask away.”
“Oh, that feels so nice. But seriously, dear, didn’t they tell you anything about the mission you and your French friend are on?”
“Nope. And if they don’t tell us more, and flash some front money at us, we ain’t on it. I told you I’ve been stiffed by you Brits after pulling chestnuts out of the fire for Queen Vickie a couple of times. I don’t work for free these days.”
“Ooh, I like the way you’re working on me! Do you know if the people sending you to help Los Jurados are U.S. government or some sort of semiprivate agency?”
Since he didn’t know, there was no sense holding out on her about it. He said,’ “It could be either. Both Uncle Sam and the big shots with private capital invested in the stalled canal project must be pretty fed up with the Colombian junta by now. Frankly, I don’t care, as long as their money was minted by Uncle Sam. If it’s not, the deal’s off. So what else can I tell you?”
Alice didn’t answer. She sobbed in orgasm and fell forward to lie flat across the bed, groaning and chewing the sheeting as he followed her down and tried to keep it in. He was right on the verge of coming himself when her contractions popped the head out like a slippery melon seed. He reached down, grasped his trembling shaft, and thrust in hard to keep from wasting it on empty air. As her tight warmth clamped down around it again, he exploded inside her at the end of the first deep thrust. Then he realized where he’d come and murmured, “Oops, sorry. Am I hurting you, honey?”
