“I am in charge here.” Helmut dumped the clothing Ana had purchased the day before from the aluminum case and began filling the case with money from the tire. “You do not tell me what to do.”
“You get any drunker and we’re all dead.”
Helmut looked up, weaving a little. “So. Is the brave man afraid to die?”
“I’m not as eager as you seem to be.”
Ana stared at Helmut. “Did I ever mean anything to you? Ever?”
“Ach. Women are such egotists. They each think the world revolves around them only.”
Jinx came through the gate with the two buckets filled with water. Geraldo stood back. Valdez stirred as Jinx dribbled water over him.
“He’ll die out there,” Robert said.
“He is stronger than you think.”
Helmut finished repacking the money, then poured himself a drink and sat on one of the two chairs.
“Helmut, you did good work once,” Ana said earnestly. “We had good times. We have a history together. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“You. You had good times. You, Florence Nightingale of Central America. Oh, you had good times. You and the señor Rivas. Yes, very good times.”
Ana’s eyes pooled with emotion. “You… You promised…”
Helmut removed his glasses, wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve. “Ana, Ana, Ana. Your little indiscretion with Rivas meant nothing to me. Neither does your current affair with this mentally ill Robert person.”
“It should have. If you really cared for me it would.”
Helmut poured another splash into his cup. “I am not one to waste time on a woman who leaves me.”
“I came back. I left him and came back.”
“He threw you out. Then you came back. Yes.”
“Remember that festival in Rio? The puppets? Remember? Or the Hotel Marbella in Honduras with all those reporters and politicians?” A note of desperation had crept into her voice. “And how about that party when you and I slipped out with the caviar and gave it to the beggars? Doesn’t any of that mean anything?”
Helmut raised his hand, indicating the uselessness of further conversation.
Normally Robert would have found this exchange more than interesting. But now, the situation being what it was…
“How did you know I was going to get those photos?” he said to Helmut. “I didn’t even know that.”
Helmut shrugged. “We knew you were getting the canister from Soffit, but we didn’t know where he was.”
“And how did you know about the diamonds?”
“So, you think the container is full of diamonds?”
Robert searched his face.
Helmut sighed. “Life is simply the pursuit of one illusion after another. And then, we die—as you Americans like to say.”
“What are you getting at? What do you think is in that canister?”
“It is a mystery, is it not”
“A pig smells better,” Geraldo shouted from under the arbor. He and Jinx lifted Valdez to a sitting position, one leg on either side of a corner-post. Jinx tied Valdez’s hands around the post to his feet. Valdez stared, stuporlike, bloody drool glistening from his broken mouth.
“You’re saying, what? If not diamonds, what?”
Helmut smiled his imperious smile, poured another splash in his cup.
“You know you’re killing that guy out there, murdering him. And you know the little guy is going to kill you in turn, and yet, you’re doing nothing about it.”
“Do not concern yourself. I am the one in charge.”
“The hell you are. You’re falling-down-drunk-on-your-ass.”
The old woman shoveled cakes out of the oven and covered them with a cloth in a straw basket. Heedless, she labored her way to the altar and placed them among the flowers and candles.
“Is this some new political agenda on your part?” Ana asked.
Helmut forced a laugh, eyes small and red behind the light on his glasses. “Political? Hah. It makes no difference. It is always this way in these countries, merely one gang of thugs or another.”
She paused, studying him intently. “And you? Have you no morality at all?”
Helmut stubbed his cigarette out. “We are each only moral from lack of opportunity.” He gestured toward the canister. “Do you believe that container is worth millions? Billions perhaps? To the right people?”
Ana frowned. “What’re you talking about?”
Robert looked on, equally confused. All the misgivings he had had from the beginning surfaced once again.
Geraldo and Jinx returned to the shade of the portico. Jinx fussed with his dirty wig, readjusting it with difficulty. Geraldo looked with suspicion at Helmut, then Robert and Ana. “What are you saying behind my back?”
“They are appealing to my superior German sensibilities. They want me to free them.”
“Sensibilities? No, you have lost your senses entirely,” Ana replied.
Geraldo continued to look them over. He shook two tablets from a prescription bottle and downed them with a slug of mescal. He laid his Uzi on the table, crouched, leaped into the air and snatched a handful of honeysuckle blossoms out of the roof. He dumped cigarette butts from one of the tin cans, stuffed the blossoms in it and placed it on the ground before Ana. “Aquellas ojos verdes…” he sang in an off-key tenor.
Ana stared dumbly at the crumpled blossoms, at Geraldo, at his yellow eyes with their floating pinpoint pupils, his blackened teeth.
Geraldo picked up the Uzi again. “General Walker was a great military leader,” he said with reverence. “Mi own madre, she and mi abuela, they tell me the story many times, how he come to Nicaragua to make himself a king.”
A small light of hope kindled in Ana’s eyes. “Yes… Yes! I know of General Walker. A great man. Surely you have his same greatness? His goodness, his kindness and compassion?”
“Sí. I am much like him,” Geraldo said earnestly.
“Then… Then how can you do this?”
Geraldo gazed into the overhead vines, rapt. “General Walker,” he said softly, “he killed many people. Sí. I am much like him.”
“No, no,” Ana said. “We are all God’s children. He wants us to love and comfort one another, not torture and kill.”
Geraldo stepped back with a quick intake of breath, his gaze fixed on the hummingbird flitting in the overhead vines. “Jesus,” he whispered earnestly, clutching his hand over his heart. “I’m your own little hummingbird. Yes, Jesus, I am…”
“You should eat something,” Jinx said guardedly.
“Jesus…” Geraldo whispered again, eyes glistening with emotion.
“Geraldo,” Helmut said, “why don’t you lay off that stuff.”
Geraldo’s head swiveled on his shoulders. His beatific expression morphed into demonic rage as he swung the Uzi’s muzzle up and touched it gently to Helmut’s forehead. He snatched the .22 from Helmut’s lax hand, tucked it in his belt, then grabbed the .45 and Robert’s .380.
Helmut blinked with drunken comprehension, his faltering expression slowly betraying the enormity of his mistake.
Geraldo hurried around the table and dumped the guns onto the chair opposite Helmut. “Jinx, bring the rope! Tie his hands!”
“What the hell…?” Jinx began. “What’re you doing?”
“Jinx, help me! Then you and me, we take the money and go to Brazil. We live like kings. What you say to that? ’Ey, Jinx?”
Jinx shook his head in confusion. “Wait…what’re you saying?”
“Jinx, you are a rich man! Think of it!”
Jinx’s gaze flickered between Geraldo and Helmut with dawning comprehension. “We split the money? Even-steven?”
“Evenly down the middle for two old friends, sí!”
Jinx’s eyes grew moist, visualizing it. “Yeah! I’ll do it! But let’s get a shake on!” With hurried caution he pulled Helmut’s arms behind the chair, took a couple of half hitches around his wrists and tied the
rope off to rungs under the seat.
“Get his keys,” Geraldo ordered.
Helmut stared at Geraldo, still absorbing the situation. “Keys…” he mumbled vaguely. Then, focusing on Robert: “He drove.”
“Jinx, you like to search this Roberto’s pocket? I think you like a little feel, ’ey?”
“I left them in the car,” Robert said.
“Ah, too bad, eh Jinx?”
Jinx hurried past Valdez and the old woman toward the gate and the car.
“You damn lard-ass drunk!” Robert shouted at Helmut. “Now look what you’ve done!”
Geraldo laughed and slapped his thigh. “I like this you say, ‘lard-ass drunk’! I think you know this Herr Helmut well.”
“You could have cooperated and avoided this,” Helmut mumbled at Robert.
“The hell with you! You knew all along we didn’t have those photos, you sick son of a bitch!”
Geraldo laughed again, then lowered the Uzi, his gaze settling on Ana.”So, God would have us love one another, ’ey? Muy Bueno! Then you and me, we do the little forky-diddle-diddle. We love one another.” Geraldo laughed hysterically, jittering in place. “All the men are mad for this one, but I am the one to have her. Sí! Sí!”
35
Hemorrhagic Pox
ANA WENT PALE, her stare locked on Geraldo in stark terror.
Robert struggled against the ropes, wrists burning.
Jinx returned, the key in hand. His expression darkened, seeing Geraldo hovering over Ana. “Hey! What’s this? The money…you said we’d take the money and haul ass outta here.”
“Patience, Jinx. Patience.” Geraldo dragged the wrecked tire off the table and set the canister in its place. He took a step back and picked up the .45. “First, I open this with the pistola and we have a taste for the party, ’ey?”
“Warten!” Helmut shouted, suddenly panicked. “The container, you might break it or you might not, but I would not if I were you!”
Geraldo laughed with glee. “But you are not me. I am so pleased to tell you this fact.”
“Wait! Der container, it is loaded mit smallpox!”
Geraldo hesitated. “ ’Ey…what is this you say?”
“Ask him,” Helmut said, nodding at Robert in sober earnestness now. “The container was supposed to be filled with diamonds. He was going to smuggle them into der United States, only al Qaeda repacked the container mit a virus. This poor stupid, he don’t know it, but he vas going to smuggle it back into der US for zem—them,” he corrected.
Robert tried to absorb it. Not only had Helmut lapsed heavily into the z’s and v’s, but an uncharacteristic desperation had replaced his usual arrogance.
Geraldo waggled his head side to side. “Do you think I am a foolish child to believe such a thing?”
“You break it, you are going to see it is true.”
“This is a good story you tell. You should write the novela, ’ey?”
Helmut took a ragged breath, then continued, speaking with exacting care. “This Robert, he was working with a CIA operative by the name of Flax. They planned to smuggle the diamonds into the US. But now, this Flax, he advised me that terrorist substituted the virus in place of the diamonds. Why would I tell you if not true? You are going to kill me anyway. I have nothing to gain.”
Robert’s mind scrambled at the enormity of it. Surely Helmut was mistaken, lying, trying to trick them… But it was too pat, Helmut too earnest to be making it up on the fly.
Geraldo looked one to the other, brow pinched, noisily sucking his teeth. “I don’t think you are too much liking me, so if what you say is true, and this thing is full of the disease, why do you care?”
“This is true. I do not care if you kill yourself. I only tell you because of Ana, Ana and the Mexican people. This virus, it is highly contagious, a pandemic.”
“Geraldo,” Jinx whispered, “what if he’s telling the truth?”
Geraldo narrowed his eyes on Robert. “What do you say to this story?”
Robert struggled with his answer. “Yes, Flax sent me here to get the diamonds. Valdez said al Qaeda may have stolen them, but this is the first I’ve heard of a virus.”
“So, you don’t know too, eh?”
“Valdez was right,” Helmut said. “What Valdez did not say because he did not know was that al Qaeda had the container reloaded in Cairo by an Eastern European biochemist.”
Geraldo looked at the canister on the table. “So, it may be that this thing is full with good smack. Or it may be many diamonds to make me very rich. Or, as you want to say, maybe I open it and we all die. It is all possible, sí?”
“You believe it is only a container of diamonds, or your drugs. But I am trying to explain to you. Inside that container are three more containers, each one loaded mit das blattern! Das smallpox! Verstéhen Sie mich? Do you understand?”
Geraldo grinned, but his eyes betrayed his fear. “What I hear is a desperate man who make up a good story. Jinx, is that not what you hear also?”
Jinx gazed at the canister, forehead puckered with doubt.
“Blattern!” Helmut shouted again. He caught his breath, slowed down, enunciating carefully: “Listen to me clearly. These vials, they are going to be set aloft on weather balloons in the Seattle area as a front is moving down from Canada. I think you are not aware of North American vedder—weather. Typically, fronts move down across the Rockies, then east over the Central Plains until they join the Gulf Stream and are carried north again up the Eastern Seaboard. The virus will slowly disperse along der vay. Do you understand what this means?”
“Hah. So now you know the way of God, how he direct the wind. This is a great talent you have, Herr Helmut.”
“Check das vedder channel! I have no reason to lie to you!”
“You are the CIA who lie about everything, if only to stay in practice.”
“But what if he’s telling the truth?” Jinx said.
Robert weighed the probability with a sinking feeling.
Geraldo cut his eyes toward Ana. “What does the gringa with the sweet red tits say? ’Ey? Is the superior German make up a big story to keep the diamonds for himself?”
Ana stared, barely able to shake her head.
Geraldo laid the .45 on the chair again. He grinned at Ana, made a circle with thumb and forefinger around the Uzi’s muzzle, pumped it back and forth and grabbed himself in the crotch. “ ’Ey, señorita. I think we have our little party now. What you say to that?”
“Please…d–don’t.”
Jinx stepped forward. “Dammit, Geraldo…”
“I make you the deal,” Geraldo said, ignoring Jinx. “Tell me for true what is in this thing, I let you go.”
“I–I don’t know. Really, I— Yes! Smallpox. A terrible virus! It’s… It’s true!”
Geraldo laid the Uzi on the aluminum case and opened the yellow-handled knife. “You are a lying puta gringa.”
Ana went rigid. “Please. I–I don’t know, really. B–but I think Helmut’s telling the truth. P–please, don’t hurt me.”
Geraldo crouched, advancing on her with animal stealth. “You and me, if we die, we die so happy.”
“You are not going to live,” Helmut said. “I promise you that.”
“Oh, I think I live a long life. Be happy, for I let you live also, then your great CIA, they don’t care about me. I am only what you call the little fish who get away. You can thank this true fact that you are still alive.”
“Open that canister, you have eight to ten days. Then vot happen? You become feverish, you get der backache, you start to vomiting. Your skin begins to spot with blisters, filling mit pus. Der blisters harden. Der skin does not break, but splits, tearing away from its under layer. Der pain is so severe you lose zee ability to speak. And zen you die.”
Jinx’s eyes grew large with visualization.
“Helmut,” Robert said, “you knew this? How could you have been so stupid!”
Geraldo forced a laugh. “It is b
ut a scary story he tell.”
“Listen to me,” Helmut pleaded, enunciating with great care. “The ordinary smallpox, it is too horrible, but this special strain has been bioengineered for a maximum of black pox—hemorrhagic pox it is called. The skin darkens until it looks charred. It feels like fire, and then it slides off your body in sheets. Un-clotted black blood oozes from the body’s orifices. The virus destroys the linings of the throat, the stomach and the intestines. The black pox is one hundred percent fatal. You open the container and that is what will happen to you. This I promise.”
Geraldo’s eyes shifted, weighing it. “This story, it is get better every time.”
“You think I make up such a thing so easy?”
“I think you climb a tree to lie when the truth sound better on the ground.”
“You can’t be that stupid. Not even you.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Geraldo interrupted. “Let us think now of more pretty things.” He held his crotch in one hand, knife in the other. “I like now for you to show me the sweet red tits, eh?”
Ana shrank from him. “Please, don’t—”
“Hold on there, dammit!” Jinx shouted.
Geraldo turned, blinking with surprise at the Beretta Jinx held trained on him.
“Jinx, I let you have her when I am through, but you don’ like the sweet red tits…”
“You said we’d take the money and leave!” Jinx strode clumsily back and forth in the blue pumps. “So now I’ll tell you about Geraldo. His name’s not Walker. No! He’s Geraldo Garcia Cardenas. Car-denas! So how d’you like them apples?”
“Lies! This is all lies!” Geraldo rushed back and forth, keeping pace with Jinx, his little-boy shoulder blades pumping up and down. “I tell you also something about this Maricón estúpido,” Geraldo said. “He wear a tampon up his butt! Sí! All the time he is wear this woman thing! So! Is funny, ’ey?”
“Shoot him!” Robert yelled. “Shoot him!”
“His mother, she didn’t tell him any stories,” Jinx shouted. “Hell no! Why? Because, this weird little midget, he don’t have no mother. He grew up in the streets of Managua. A beggar!”
The Dogs of Mexico Page 25
