I leaned back in my seat and stared angrily to the black sky. The first day of the investigation was coming to an end, with little or no results.
I picked up the radiotelephone and on purpose not looking at Heidi, called home.
- Luisa, I said sharply, hearing the voice of our secretary. We're heading back. What’s for dinner?
9
If he'd heard those words from any other man with more pretzels on his shoulder straps, it would have sounded like a harsh and humiliating reprimand, inappropriate here under the wet leaves of the tall trees between which the narrow-eyed men were hiding. But Captain Bradford's tone was always in confounding contradiction to his words. Cooper grinned.
- How's Sullivan?
- He's lost a lot of blood, Prowell's voice boomed.
Sergeant Cooper walked to the water's edge and looked out into the distance. There had to be a ship, but he could not see it. Casper and Jennings carefully lowered their load to the ground, Pueblo stood behind them all, alertly looking out over the jungle.
- How's your shoulder, Cooper?
A spark of amusement flickered in the corners of Captain Bradford's eyes, and at the same time
they remained sad. Sergeant Cooper didn't understand that, and therefore felt anxious.
- Where is the ship, Captain? It had to be here.
- It's coming up. I got in touch with it on the radio. Get ashore, Cooper, enjoy the view.
The hostile jungle were behind them.
- The enemy will catch up with soon, Captain.
- That's right, Cooper... Do you want to sail towards the ship?
The captain cautiously crouched on the root of some tree that was protruding almost entirely from the ground. Without waiting for the sergeant to answer, he turned and looked up at the sky.
The ship appeared in eight minutes and twenty-three seconds. Cooper was sure of that; he had noted the time. He spread the men out along the shore and ordered the cargo to be set up near the water's edge. Beside it was placed Sullivan. Cooper took the grenade launcher from Pueblo and settled near the case, too. He wouldn't be for much use in close combat.
It passed some more time before the ship came ashore and lowered the dinghy. There were three men sitting in the boat, and not one of them was wearing a uniform. There was no flag on the ship either.
Captain Bradford did not raise his hand to the men in the dinghy. Two of the men carefully got the crate to the bottom of the boat; the third spoke to the captain in a language Cooper did not
know.
- I'll get the crate aboard, Kieran Bradford said, turning his back to the man in the dinghy. He took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Cooper wanted to smoke; he hadn't smelled tobacco since they had left the camp.
The two men loading the crate sat at their oars. Cooper followed the dinghy with a quick glance. It was the last time he saw Captain Kieran Bradford.
- What is in that crate, Sergeant?
- Gather the men, Casper, Cooper leaned toward Sullivan. He was conscious.
Prowell, Pueblo, and Jennings approached the sergeant and turned to face the jungle. They were good soldiers.
- They're sailing away, Sergeant.
That's what Sullivan said. He didn't take his eyes off the ship. Cooper turned around. The ship was moving slowly away from the shore.
- What the hell, the sergeant whispered. His hands involuntarily gripped the barrel of his grenade launcher.
- They're leaving us, Sergeant! Pueblo exclaimed.
Somewhere in the jungle there was a call of a bird.
- Stand aside, Cooper yelled.
He slung the grenade launcher across his shoulder and didn't even notice the pain, that shot through his entire body. The projectile burst out of the barrel with a squelching noise, and a flame erupted from behind.
The grenade hit the side of the ship and exploded. The ship swayed, and warm tongues of fire appeared on the deck. The soldiers raised their machine gun muzzles and took aim.
- Abandon, said Cooper tiredly. They're too far away.
- We're all going to die, Sullivan said slowly. We're all going to die here.
Cooper pulled out his ratio.
- B-47 to base, he yelled into the speaker calling base.
The ship was slowly approaching the horizon line to disappear forever from their eyes.
- Disconnect immediately, B-47, the loudspeaker carped, you are forbidden to make contact.
- We've been betrayed, said Cooper. Captain Kieran Bradford has betrayed us. I request immediate assistance. We need a helicopter. A sergeant and five enlisted men. We've got the enemy sitting on our heels.
- B-47, stand down immediately.
- Our coordinates...
The speaker's gone silent.
- Are they sending a helicopter, Sergeant? Kasper asked. Cooper nodded.
- They won't make it, Sullivan said.
They all stared after the ship -- all except Jennings. He was standing with his back to them, his eyes drowning in the depths of the jungle.
- Shut up, everyone, Cooper ordered sharply. Prowell, Jennings, get Sullivan up and help him walk. We're gonna hole up and wait for the chopper.
- Sullivan's right, Casper said, they won't make it.
Cooper punched him in the jaw, and the soldier fell down.
- Everybody back to work, Cooper barked. His voice sounded like a little squeak under the vaults of the jungle. I'm not going to rot in these swamps. Let's go. Cooper's shoulder ached after the shot, but he didn't think twice about it. When his sharp, short shovel dug into the greasy earth, he prayed to the black gods, of which he had heard a lot in Harlem, and to the white Christian god. He didn't care which of them his prayer will reach.
He prayed for him to manage to get out of this jungle alive. And all his men too. He also prayed for the gods to let him meet Captain Kieran Bradford again. And then he would kill him.
They had time to dig themselves into the ground in full profile when shots started.
10
When Luisa's face sparks that expression, it means I won't be eating dinner tonight. Or, at the very least, I'll have to postpone the meal for a long time.
- What's the matter again, Luisa? I inquired softly.
- You're in a bad mood tonight, Mr. Hammond, she chirped. I told them to serve dinner the moment you ordered it.
With your high fees, you can afford to have a cook in the house. But you'll always be too busy to have dinner on time.
- Is anyone here, Luisa? I patiently interrogated.
- Oh, you guessed it, Mr. Hammond. And I didn't want to tell you until you were on your way.
- How nice of you, Luisa, (it would be even better if you kept the trash out of the house while we're gone). So who's here?
- Oh, it's a gentleman named Vaughn. Robert Vaughn, she said. He's waiting for you in the living room.
I nodded. I had great doubts that the great Robert Ferdinand Vaughn, founder of the Vaughn Bank, had risen from the dead and appeared here to inspect our activities. Which meant that the couch in the living room was being wiped down by no one other than Rowan ’s daddy. I informed about that Heidi, who just entered the room, after she put the car in the garage.
I was torn between contradictory feelings - hunger and greed. On the one hand. I was hungry, and there must have been something in the oven in the kitchen. On the other hand, time was running out, and we had no results, and that’s they who made it possible to save the restaurant money by keeping a cook in the house. So it was worth talking to Vaughn as soon as possible.
- How's he doing in the living room? I asked grudgingly.
- Nervous, Luisa reported. He won't have a drink. I've been periodically checking up on him. He doesn't know you're here, so you can have your dinner in peace.
And that's where I made a mistake. I should have known that Robert Vaughn's coming to us. From what his nephew and brother had said. They hadn't bothered to tell him about the trouble Rowan was in. And
if Robert did end up under our roof someone must have reported it to him.
Having reached to this point in my reasoning, I should have gone further and realize that a loving father at this moment should be hugging his son's shaky knees and wipe his tears with a rough checkered handkerchief, and since he doesn’t do that, there's something wrong. But, I made a mistake and headed to the living room.
When nature created Robert Vaughn, it clearly made a mistake. There was no way a man with his looks could have belonged to the powerful banking clan. He was of medium height, begun to bald long ago, he had a fat belly, red face and saggy lips.
Perhaps when he was sitting in front of his television and enjoying the popcorn with a
blissful smile on his lips was driving his brother mad. He could look quite nice and earn the honorable title of a classic average American. But now he was angry and almost spitting, and that wasn’t a good thing to add to his appearance. Besides, in all his life he had never lift a finger to earn his bread and peanut butter, except, perhaps, when he signed the document when selling his stock to his brother.
In case you haven't figured it out yet, I didn't like him.
- Good evening, Mr. Ca... I started, but then I stopped.
Believe it or not, he tried to hit me.
He was shorter, older and much weaker, so I should have mercy. But I was hungry, pissed at Warren Vaughn, Heidi and the United States government, and besides, his attack was a complete surprise to me.
I dodged the blow and threw my right hand forward sharply. My knuckles touched his cheekbone, and he flew back against the wall.
- Damn fool, the old man hissed, and started to get up slowly.
- Mr. Vaughn, Heidi said sternly, as if he puddled in our living room. You must explain your behavior to us.
- My behavior," he finally managed to get up, and now he was standing against the wall. He was a little wobbly, I don't think my punch had that effect on him, he was more likely to be shaking with rage. Then he added a few more words, which made Luisa, still standing behind me, shriek, and which I will not mention here.
- How much did my brother pay you? Robert asked aggressively, without making an attempt, to approach us.
- Why don't you ask him, I said.
- Probably a lot, he looked around the room with a hateful look, and I was afraid the plaster was going to fall off the ceiling. I bet, such a house. You always cover for killers, don't you? Or only when you get paid for it?
He added a few more cursing words, but to be honest he was far from the girl in the car this morning.
- You're behaving inappropriately, Heidi said. Why did you come?
- Why did you come? he grunted and spat on the expensive carpet. I came because I'm an honest man. None can say that Robert Vaughn is a scoundrel.
- I can, I muttered.
- Shut up, he wheezed. Bastard.
That was too much. I took a few steps in his direction. Footsteps sounded behind me, and I turned around. Luisa and two men in uniforms entered the room.
- I brought them in, the receptionist said proudly.
- None of you would dare to come at me alone, Vaughn grumbled angrily, though recent experience proved otherwise. But I'm not leaving until I've said what I have to say.
- Speak, Mr. Vaughn, Heidi ordered sternly.
If she hadn't said so, I'd have thrown the insolent man out of our house. But I didn't want to argue with her in public - much less in front of people, so I just stood there.
- I'll say, Robert Vaughn waved with his fingers spread in the air. I'll say everything. I'm an honest man, and I'm a real man. Yes. Robert Vaughn is a real man, everybody knows that. And I'm used to always take responsibility for my actions. That's how I raised my son. Rowan is weak and needs to be dealt with. But my brother, the great banker, he grinned wryly. Usually a crooked chuckle adds to a man's importance, it might be an expression of sorrow, sarcasm, even cynicism. His already fat face just blurred for a moment, then he pulled himself back together and went on:
The great banker wanted to make Rowan his henchman. He insisted that he spend his life making money. He had accustomed him to an easy life. The booze, the girls, the power, you get my drift. All I see here, Is the rich man's life that Warren got Rowan used to. Of course he did. Now he's gone homicidal, and his uncle's hired thugs to get the guy out of trouble. But I'll tell you what, no way. I'm his father, and I'm gonna hold him accountable for his actions. No one's gonna say that Robert Vaughn's son bribed justice. No one...
- Mr. Vaughn, Heidi said coldly. We understand your point of view. You may leave now.
The two thugs behind me made the elusive movement that people of their profession always do when they want to demonstrate that they are ready for action.
- What? Robert Vaughn squinted his eyes at Heidi. Why are you interfering here? This is men's talk, and stay out of it. How much are you getting paid in order to sleep with him?
It all happened so fast, I didn't have time to react. By that time the rage was bubbling up inside my skull so much that I couldn't do anything without blowing up the whole house. Heidi flashed past me like a bolt of lightning and was right in front of Vaughn. Don't even think that she was running, no, she was walking, walking with dignity, but as fast as only an enraged woman can move.
And then she hit him.
Robert Vaughn collapsed on the floor and went silent. Heidi stood over him for a few more seconds, waiting for him to get up, but he didn't. Then she nodded to the security people, and they dragged the unconscious honest man out of the room. I wanted to tell them to put his head on the cast-iron grate when they took him outside the mansion, but I was too furious for that.
- Oh, how great you've done, Luisa chirped.
11
It was late at night, and I was leaning back in the first-class cabin, staring angrily at the receding airport. I still hadn't dinner, and now I was on my way to Seattle.
It all started when I heard the lively voice of Martin, who wanted to know what kind of unfortunate man was being carried out of our torture chamber.
My body was turned toward the dining room, and I was in a complacent mood, so I paid no attention to the inappropriate remark. I was even willing to accept the fact that he would ask to join us for the roasted duck.
- We will receive the paperwork from the FBI at half past four, Martin said, as if it was extremely important to our entire country. And my people immediately started digging in all directions... By the way, Michael, are you sure your client will agree to pay all the costs?
- The contract's already been signed, I slowly waddled down the hall. We can always sue.
- We need to make inquiries about a doctor, said Heidi, carefully taking a few pages out of her notebook. But...very carefully, Don.
- Careful is my middle name, Martin smirked.
- Yeah? I thought your middle name was modesty.
- That's my third name, Michael... Now listen to what my guys were able to dig up from the War Department.
By now, about a hundred people all over the country were turning over trying to find anything underneath to save Rowan Vaughn. If you're the president of one of the biggest banks on the coast, you can afford it.
- Ruell was a Nazi outlaw who was frozen in the 1940s? in '44? I was still in a good mood, but somewhere in the fringes of my mind alarm bells were already ringing. Why did Martin come in so late?
- He was in the Army, Don ignored the opportunity to enter the dining room and continued to stand there, waving a folder in the air. Back then his name was Kieran Bradford. Successfully completed several important assignments, had a good record.
- Don't drag it out, Don, Heidi said hurriedly. If you found something, spit it out.
- Well, Martin was modestly shy. It didn't suit him. So far, I can only guess. But you know I have a nose for all sorts of dirty tricks.
He was clearly expecting a compliment, and I flattered him.
- I'm sure you've got something good, I said. Wh
at?
- When our troops came out of Panama, Martin opened the file. He doesn’t do that a lot, though I've never seen him actually need to look up forgotten facts in a document. There was one last assignment that got Bradford out of the army. He had to escort a few crates to the coast. A routine mission, nothing complicated, Michael, the paperwork says it was accomplished. But of the fifteen men, four left alive.
I raised my eyebrows.
- What were they doing there, Don? Didn't we have a glorious victory in Panama?
Martin nodded.
- I thought it was strange, too. My guys haven't been able to find anything, but we're working on it. We're especially looking for those three who survived with Ruell. We've only found one so far...
- So?
- He's in Seattle now, working as a bodyguard in some bar or nightclub. So, I was wondering if you want to talk to him yourself. If not my man's waiting at the airport. Two tickets are already booked, though one can always be returned. What do you think about that?
And so instead of enjoying the baked duck and ice cream, I was forced to stare at the starry sky and try to understand why I agreed to Martin's proposal.
As they say in thick novels that I do not read, the night fell upon the entire world, which meant that we will be just in time to catch Randal's friend from the army at the workplace. So I gave up on the thought of looking for a restaurant at the arrival and resigned myself to the need to choke on something found on board. My voracity made some consternation in the cabin, and the caring stewardess who served me apparently decided that Heidi - my wife is starving me to death, which I did not fail to inform her about.
-You know very well that's not true, she said. We don't have rings on our fingers, and women always pay attention to that.
- Would you like to wear a ring? I asked curiously, but the arrival of the stewardess interrupted our conversation. Of course, I could have continued teasing Heidi afterwards, but not when I had a mountain of perfectly edible sandwiches in front of me. So I went silent, and the subject wasn’t continued.
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