Mercenary

by Duncan Falconer

  Victor waited for half an hour before someone arrived to escort him inside. He had never been to Hector’s encampment before. The five rebel fortresses were spread in a wide semicircle over several interconnected plateaus, the strategic intention being that they could support each other if they were attacked by Neravistas.

  The layout of the camp was difficult to make out in the darkness but it seemed better designed to withstand attack than Sebastian’s. Now that Victor was inside the perimeter he felt nervous and uncomfortable. The rebels he passed seemed to eye him suspiciously and not just because he was an outsider. Their looks felt almost accusatory. Victor wondered if Sebastian was right and that he had developed an overactive imagination that verged on paranoia.

  The guide showed him to a large cabin, bigger than Sebastian’s original quarters. He tied off his horse and looked around him. A group of armed men were gathered around a table illuminated by hurricane lamps. They watched him silently, their guns within easy reach. He was tempted to wave but decided against it. They looked a surly crew.

  The guide pointed Victor towards the front door of the cabin but did not go near it himself. Victor felt a sudden chill, not in the air but more like a warning from his heart. He told himself to calm down as he removed his hat, marched to the door and opened it.

  Hector sat alone inside the comfortably furnished room, reading a document by the light from an elegant candelabrum. A small fire was burning in the grate.

  He glanced at Victor before going back to his document. ‘I thought they were mistaken when they told me you were here. Somehow I don’t believe Sebastian sent you.’

  ‘He did not.’

  ‘Of course. Why would he?’ Hector said sarcastically. ‘I don’t even understand what you’re doing in this revolution, never mind second in command to a brigade. If there was ever an example of Sebastian’s poor judgement it’s you.’

  Victor clenched his jaw and absorbed the abuse. ‘I know you’re angry with me, Hector. Perhaps you have every reason to be. I—’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Hector interrupted rudely. ‘I threatened your life the other day, yet here you are, alone in my camp.’ He made a sudden pantomime of looking around. ‘Maybe you have your Indians hidden somewhere,’ he said, his sarcasm undiminished. ‘Or perhaps you’re feeling heroic after blowing up Chemora.’

  Victor began to wonder if coming to the camp had been such a good idea. The man was already acting aggressively and Victor had not even said his piece. But he had come all this way and was not going to leave without telling Hector why. ‘I came to see you, Hector, because I’m afraid for the future of this struggle. I’m concerned that the reasons we started it have been lost. And I’m afraid for Sebastian.’

  Hector chuckled. ‘You’re afraid for Sebastian? That’s ridiculous. This revolution isn’t about any one person. We’re all expendable.’

  ‘I think it would be a mistake to allow something to happen to him. He’s still a great symbol to the people.’

  ‘Why are you coming to me? Why not any of the other council members?’

  ‘You are their voice.’

  ‘I am a voice of reason that they agree with.’

  ‘Someone tried to kill Sebastian.’

  ‘Oh, so you think I had something to do with it?’

  ‘I did not say that.’

  ‘I have no control over those who did.’

  ‘Then you know who they are.’

  ‘Don’t try and get smart with me,’ Hector warned him.

  Victor took heed and moderated his tone. ‘This bad blood between you and Sebastian - perhaps it’s sending the wrong message to some people. Maybe someone tried to get rid of Sebastian because they thought it’s what you wanted.’

  ‘You are amazing,Victor.You stand here in my house with your innuendos and ridiculous requests as if you were an equal or even someone of importance. I’m not interested in you or your opinions or anything else you have to say. Did you seriously think when you were daydreaming about coming here that I would put my arm around you and say, “Sure, Victor, let’s find a way to all live together, you’re a great guy, Victor”? You have no importance to me or to anyone, actually, and that includes Sebastian.’

  Desperation began to gnaw at Victor. His planned dialogue was falling apart at the seams. He had believed that being Sebastian’s number two might count for something outside of his own commander’s cabin but Hector’s ridicule was battering his self-confidence. He became flustered and started to lose the thread of his argument. All that was left was a suspicion he had developed about the attempt on Sebastian’s life and, perhaps in desperation to be taken seriously, he could not help but blurt it out. ‘I don’t think it was a coincidence that the bomb in Sebastian’s house detonated when it was known that Louisa would be out of the camp for several days.’

  Hector stared at him with narrowed eyes. ‘You go too far with your suggestions.’

  Victor’s blood was now up. Louisa was Hector’s one obvious weakness and he decided to go for it. ‘It’s you who’ve gone too far,’ he said. ‘You’ve lost her heart to another because of your actions.’

  Hector got to his feet, his face reddening. ‘That is a personal insult. I should kill you where you stand but I will still observe a visitor’s right - even yours - to safety.’

  ‘She’s no longer yours - if she ever was.’

  Hector stared at him, his teeth bared. ‘Who is he?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, other than he shares Louisa’s political convictions. But doesn’t it even hint to you that you’re wrong?’

  ‘Get out of here,’ Hector said, drawing his machete. ‘One more word and I will kill you where you stand. I don’t ever want to see your face again! Go!’

  Victor stepped back at the vehemence in the other man’s words, turned for the door and left the cabin.

  He put on his hat as he marched to his horse and climbed onto it. He rode away looking back over his shoulder, uneasy that the threat to his life had not gone.

  Hector stepped outside to see the Frenchman disappear into the darkness. He put his machete back in its sheath as he looked over at the group of men, focusing on one in particular. It was the one who had delivered the message to Louisa at the stables. The man responded to Hector’s gesture of summons and hurried to his master. After a few brief words he walked away, at the same time alerting subordinates of his own who quickly followed him.

  Hector went back inside his cabin and closed the door. Victor’s words about Louisa had wounded him. He walked over to an ornately carved dresser, pulled open a drawer and removed something wrapped in a scarf. He smelled the material and even though the perfume that had once pervaded it was long gone the smell of the scarf itself prompted memories of her. He removed it to reveal the frame with Louisa’s picture in it that he had stolen from Sebastian’s house all those years ago. His jaw tightened as he studied her eyes, her slight smile and elegant poise. Over the years he had made it his picture. It was him she was looking at, even though she had not known him when it was taken. Something snapped inside of him at the thought of her heart going to another and he threw the frame and scarf into the fireplace.

  Unable to watch the flames distort and burn her face into oblivion he turned his back on it and stepped through a door in the far wall into a smoke-filled room where Steel and Ventura were enjoying cigars and brandy.

  They watched Hector as he poured himself a drink and downed it in one.

  Ventura gave Steel a sideways glance and a knowing smile. ‘Hector? If you don’t mind. The way I see it now, you have two choices. You either remove Sebastian yourself, and soon, or you allow us to.’

  ‘I told you I would take care of it,’ Hector replied softly.

  ‘Can I remind you,’ Ventura continued, ‘that there have been two significant occurrences since we last met that have greatly influenced current events. One, Chemora was killed by Sebastian. Two, an attempt on Sebastian’s life failed.’

  ‘Gentlem
en,’ Steel interjected diplomatically. ‘If I may add a little flavour to this stew that you guys are cooking. My people are pleased with the peace proposals as presented by Neravista and agreed to by you, Hector.’

  ‘There is no agreement yet.’ Hector corrected him in a tone that suggested he had said it a thousand times.

  ‘Okay,’ Steel acknowledged. ‘A proposal that provides the foundations on which you and Neravista could possibly build an understanding.’

  Hector shrugged to confirm that he considered the statement close enough.

  ‘A speedy and sustainable end to the conflict is all that we - as in “my people” - are concerned with at the moment,’ Steel added.

  ‘Sebastian’s death could seriously upset this strategy, at least for some months,’ Hector warned.

  ‘Then why did you try to kill him?’ Ventura asked.

  ‘I didn’t,’ Hector insisted, looking at Steel.

  Steel drew on his cigar before realising that both men were looking at him. ‘Why’re you lookin’ at me?’ he asked, unable to suppress a grin.

  ‘I know that one of Julio’s men planted the bomb,’ Hector said. ‘What did you promise him?’

  Steel blew out smoke and shrugged, knowing when he was cornered. But it was no big deal to him. ‘A US passport. But not to kill Sebastian. He arranged the booby trap in the weapons cache and was supposed to maintain the confusion.’

  Hector shook his head in disappointment.

  ‘It was Julio’s idea,’ Steel added.

  ‘Julio has never had an idea of his own in his life,’ Hector said accusingly.

  ‘It sounds like Victor thinks it was you,’ Steel said, sounding amused.

  ‘Don’t worry about Victor. He won’t be telling anyone any of his suspicions after tonight,’ Hector said.

  The news did not faze the other two men.

  ‘I appreciate the personal difficulties you might have in sanctioning Sebastian’s death,’ Ventura offered. ‘Which is why I think it would be best if you did not have that burden.’

  ‘You think that makes it any easier for me, letting you do it?’

  ‘I am right, though, aren’t I?’ Ventura said, looking at Steel as if he were speaking to him. ‘I don’t believe the peace negotiations will be jeopardised by Sebastian’s death. On the contrary. I believe it will speed the process.’

  Hector took a sword from the wall and weighed it in his hand. ‘They would not be jeopardised by your absence either, Ventura.’

  Ventura gave him a piercing look, angered more by Hector’s insolence than the physical threat.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ Steel said soothingly. ‘We’re allowing our emotions to run a little high. I agree with Hector that we must be sure about the effect any mishap that might befall Sebastian could have on the people. I also agree with him that the decision on how to proceed in that matter should come from the revolutionaries themselves. Surely they are best placed to decide on that subject and they are also the best people to absorb the repercussions. But, Hector, I must agree with Ventura that you are perhaps too emotionally involved to make the best judgement call here. You do see that, don’t you?’

  Hector’s silence seemed to indicate that he agreed, in principle at any rate.

  ‘Well,’ Steel announced, getting up from his seat and finishing off his brandy. ‘I’ve gotta go.’

  Ventura too got to his feet, placed his unfinished glass on the table and stubbed out his cigar. ‘Me, too,’ he agreed.

  ‘Why don’t you think about it, Hector?’ Steel suggested. ‘This is the perfect time to strike. Neravista is mighty pissed about losing his brother. You push your demands, back them up with an assurance that you’ll take care of the man who killed Chemora and you just might get a good piece of what you want.’

  Hector glanced at him. It was something that he had not considered.

  ‘Thanks for your hospitality,’ Steel said as he strode out of the room, followed by Ventura.

  The two men left the cabin and walked into the night towards the main camp, its fires burning in the distance.

  ‘That was clever,’ Ventura said. ‘I hope Hector is intelligent enough to see it.

  ‘Was it? It is an issue, though. How to get rid of a legend without the legend biting you in the ass at the same time.’

  ‘Have the legend die at the hands of someone he trusts - or make it look like that, at least.’

  Steel drew on his cigar. ‘You mean Julio?’

  ‘No. He’s unreliable. What if Sebastian was killed by outsiders?’ Ventura suggested.

  ‘What would their purpose be?’

  ‘What’s yours?’

  Steel smiled, glancing at Ventura. ‘You mean, if the Americans were to be accused?’

  ‘Why not? You have to pay a price at some time. Playing one side off against the other has not produced the results you wanted. You have big shoulders.’

  Steel contemplated the idea. ‘I would have to cover my own ass. I don’t mind Uncle Sam getting the blame but I don’t want to make it look personal.’

  ‘Of course. What about the Englishman?’

  Steel nodded. ‘That’s a possibility . . . You’re a natural at this, Ventura. I’m going to have to watch you.’

  Ventura was pleased by the flattery. ‘How would we go about it?’

  ‘It wouldn’t be difficult. We don’t have to alter our plans any.’

  ‘There is one other issue,’ Ventura said, looking a little uncomfortable.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘The Nerugan gold mines. I saw the licensing proposal. How much of that syndicate do you control?’

  Steel came to a stop and faced the government official. ‘Are you ready to take the pebble?’ he asked, holding out his hand, a threatening look in his eye.

  Ventura looked into the open palm that had nothing in it. ‘It wasn’t a challenge,’ he said, aware how dangerous Steel could be.

  Steel closed his hand on the invisible stone. ‘Good. Your battalion is on the highway, right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s ready to move in on your command?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is now all about neutralising Sebastian’s brigade and there’s only one way you’re gonna do it. You have to move between Hector’s and Sebastian’s encampments. Hector won’t touch your back. He’s got too much to lose. If he countered your attack it would only push him further from his dream of becoming a revolutionary leader. I’ll make sure he knows that.’

  Ventura nodded in agreement. ‘We could begin to move into position during daylight tomorrow. Preparations could be complete by nightfall. We could attack the following morning.’

  ‘Sounds perfect to me, my friend. It’ll be over in a couple hours. Especiallly with those helicopters we gave you.’

  ‘So what’s the final story concerning Sebastian?’ Ventura asked. ‘How will the people eventually see it?’

  ‘They’ll see what they’re given. The revolutionary council brokered a deal with the government but Sebastian stood in its way. Sebastian’s outfit became a rogue terrorist organisation that murdered the head of the government’s beloved brother.The revolutionary council tried to get rid of Sebastian but failed and found they were unable to deal with the situation themselves. So they paid a mercenary, who happened to be training Sebastian’s troops at the time, to kill him. Meanwhile, government troops arrived to arrest Sebastian for the murder of Chemora. A skirmish broke out. People were killed. The mercenary was never seen or heard from again. But everything turned out fine in the end. The revolutionaries, under their new leader Hector, brokered a deal with Neravista and everyone lived happily ever after. It’ll get a short column on page five of the New York Post.’

  Ventura smiled thinly at the story. ‘It will work. And you will be rewarded for your efforts . . . by your own people?’

  ‘I get a reputation among people who respect that kind of thing.’

  ‘Then there’s the gold mine,’ Ventura said, his words
this time accompanied by a friendly smirk.

  Steel glanced at him long enough to see there was no intended malice. ‘You still ain’t ready to take that pebble, Ventura.’

  ‘But I’m getting closer, no?’

  Both men laughed as they walked into the night.

  In the darkness Victor trotted along the track, with the niggling feeling that someone was following him. He slowed to a stop to look back and listen, but he could hear nothing. It was so dark that he could not see far beyond his horse’s nose. The glow from the fires of Hector’s encampment had already disappeared.

  He trotted on, not looking forward to the ride or to getting back to the camp. Terrible suspicions about Hector haunted him. He felt something very bad was going to happen. But no one would listen to him, anyway.

  Victor felt suddenly alone, and not just physically. He wondered if it was time to move on himself. The rebellion no longer felt like the one he had joined. Deep down he was not entirely against Hector’s efforts to broker a peace deal. Victor hated violence and the prospect of more to come while Sebastian remained entrenched appalled him. He knew his thoughts were disloyal and that his reasons for wanting peace now were selfish. But it was how he felt and he could not ignore it.

  An unfamiliar sound snapped him out of his thoughts.

  He slowed down again, turned and listened. He couldn’t see anything, yet the distant sound remained. He stopped altogether.

  It was a rumbling sound and growing louder, like hooves rapidly striking the ground. That was it. Riders!

  Victor’s first thought was to step back into the undergrowth and let whoever it was pass. But that would have been too risky right now. He might not have had good enough reasons for his paranoia before he’d arrived at Hector’s camp but he felt entirely justified by the time he had left it. If he was right and Hector had been prepared to kill Sebastian then the man would have no qualms about doing the same to him. Victor was suddenly filled with fear.