"How come?"
"Theyre clear blank veins, the contact colors at each end to connect the series. You were right about that part, the series."
"Christmas tree lights?"
"Yes, but with backups. You cant short one and knock out the series. The wires lead to batteries, above or below, that override the shorts and maintain contact."
"Well, listen to the tech man! What are they?"
"Trip beams, and your computer mumbo jumbo is part of the mechanism. The beams can measure density-ma.s.s, if you like-so as to prevent small animals and birds from setting off the alarms."
"You impress me, Tye."
"Theyve been around since you were playing video games."
"How do we get through em?"
"We crawl on our stomachs. Its no big deal, Lieutenant. In the old days-five or six years ago-the boys from the KGB and we pure fellows on our side would drink up a storm in Amsterdam, telling one another how stupid we all were."
"You did that?"
"We all did that, Jackson. Dont ponder it. But dont push it either."
"You know, Commander, you really do puzzle me."
"Like somebody once wrote, its all a puzzlement, young man.... Hold it, Major!" Catherine Neilsen looked up from the controls. "Theres the cove, the same one where we got the repelled beams before. From the wall."
"Should I head in?"
"h.e.l.l, no. Proceed straight west, about a quarter of a mile, no more than that."
"Then what?"
"Then your "darling and I are going to jump ship.... Get down from there, Poole. Check your weapon and zip-lock your equipment."
"Im on your side, Commander. You sound real purposeful," replied Poole.
The telephone rang, its harsh bell starding Bajaratt out of her sleep, causing her instinctively to plunge her hand beneath the pillow for her automatic. Then, sitting up, blinking, her breath suspended, she imposed a control over her reactions that in no way diminished her astonishment. No one knew where she was-they were! From the airport, only fifteen minutes away, she had taken three different taxis to get to the motel, the first two in her disguise as a middle-aged former Israeli Air Force pilot, the third as an unmade-up harridan who spoke only broken English. Such motels as the one they were in did not require references, much less authentic names. The ringing started again; she instantly picked up the phone to cut it off, glancing at Nicolo beside her. He was fast asleep, his breathing steady, his breath reeking of stale wine.
"Yes?" she said quietly into the telephone, looking at the red numbers of the screwed-down clock radio on the bedside table. It was 1:35 A.M.
"Sorry to wake you," said the pleasant male voice on the line, "but our orders are to a.s.sist you, and I have information you may want to think about."
"Who are you?"
"Names arent part of our instructions. Suffice it to say that our group holds a sick old man in the Caribbean in great esteem."
"How did you find me?"
"Because I knew who and what to look for, and there werent that many places where you could be.... We met briefly at Fort Lauderdale customs, but thats not important, my information could be. Come on, lady, dont give me a hard time. Im taking a risk some people would say Im out of my mind to take."
"I apologize. Frankly, you surprised me-"
"No, I didnt," the pleasant voice interrupted. "I shocked you."
"Very well, Ill accept that. What is your information?"
"You did a h.e.l.l of a job this afternoon; the Palm Beach barracudas are in a social feeding frenzy, as Im sure you expected."
"It was merely an introduction."
"It was a lot more than that. Youve got a small press conference tomorrow."
"What?"
"You heard me. This isnt the New York-Washington orbit by a long shot, but weve got some decent newspeople down here, especially where the Beach society is concerned. It wasnt difficult to figure where youd be staying, so a few of them descended on The Breakers. We just felt you ought to know. You can refuse, of course, but we didnt think youd want to be ... surprised."
"Thank you. Is there a number where I can reach you?"
"Are you crazy?" The line went dead, replaced by a dial tone.
Bajaratt hung up the phone; she got out of bed and for several minutes paced back and forth in front of the pile of luggage and boxes from the shops on Worth Avenue. It was a minor thing, she thought, looking at the packages and complimenting herself on her foresight, but she had requested that all price tags and marks of the newly-purchased be removed from the clothing. Packing everything would be far easier in the morning. That was minor; something else was not.
"Nicolo!" she said loudly, slapping his bare feet that extended beyond the lifted sheets. "Wake up!"
"What ...? What is it, Cabi? Its dark."
"It isnt now." The Baj walked to the floor lamp next to the sofa and turned it on. The dock boy sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "How much did you drink?" asked Bajaratt.
"Two or three gla.s.ses of wine," he answered angrily. "Is that a crime, signora?"
"No, but did you study the information in those pages as you said you would?"
"Of course. I studied them last night for hours, then this morning on the plane, and in the taxis and before we went to the elegant stores. Tonight I read for at least an hour; you were asleep."
"Can you remember everything?"
"I remember what I can remember, what do you want from me?"
"Where did you go to school?" asked the Baj harshly, standing at the foot of the bed.
"I was tutored at our estate in Ravello for ten years," replied the young man, the answer an emphatic robotic reflex.
"And then?"
"Lecole du n.o.blesse in Lausanne," Nicolo shot back. "In preparation for-for-"
"Quickly! In preparation for what?"
"For the Universite de Geneve, thats it!... And then my ailing father called me back to Ravello to absorb the family business ... yes, he called me back, the family business."
"Dont hesitate! Theyll think youre lying."
"Who?"
"After your father called you back?"
"I employed my own tutors-" Nicolo paused, squinting, then the memorized words came rushing from his mouth. "... for two years to make up for my lack of university training-five hours every day! Im told that my scores on the esami di stato in Milano placed me in the highest levels."
"Also doc.u.mented," said Bajaratt, nodding. "You did that very well, Nico."
"I will do it better, but its all false, isnt it, signora? Suppose someone who speaks Italian asks me questions I cannot answer?"
"Weve gone over that. You simply change the subject, which I will change for you."
"Why did you wake me up and go through all this?"
"It was necessary. You didnt hear it, the wine blocked your ears, but I had a telephone call. When we arrive at the hotel tomorrow, there will be newspaper people who want to interview you."
"No, Cabi. Who would care to interview a dock boy from Portici? They dont want to interview me, they want to interview the barone-cadetto di Ravello, is it not so?"
"Listen to me, Nico." The Baj, hearing the discontent in his voice, sat at the edge of the bed next to Nicolo. "You can really be that barone-cadetto, you know. The family has seen photographs of you, and they have learned of your sincere aspirations to become an educated man, a fine n.o.bile italiano. Theyre prepared to welcome you as the son they never had."
"Once more you speak crazy words, signora. Who among the n.o.bility wants their bloodlines tainted by the docks?"
"This family does, for it has nothing left but someone like you. They trust me, as you must trust me. Exchange your miserable life for another, far better, far richer."
"But until that time comes, if it ever comes, its you who wants me to be the barone-cadetto, is that not so?"
"Yes, of course."
"Its very important to you, for reasons you say I must not inquire about."
"Considering everything Ive done for you, including saving your life, I think I deserve that respect."
"Oh, yes, you do, Cabi. And I deserve to be rewarded for all the studying Ive done on your behalf, not mine." Nicolo raised his arms, placing his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her slowly across the bed. She did not resist the boy-man.
10.
It was shortly past two A.M. when Hawthorne and Poole, in their black wet suits, crawled over the sharp rocks that were their point of entry on the unmapped island, the third of the volcanic atoll.
"Stay on your stomach," said Tyrell into his radio. "Up ahead hug the ground like you were part of the dirt, have you got that?"
"h.e.l.l, yes, dont you worry about it" was the whispered reply.
"Once were past the first trips, stay low for another fifty to sixty feet, okay? The trip beams will recede at various heights for about thirty feet on the premise that humans will stand up before then once on sh.o.r.e, but snakes and rabbits cant, now do you read me?"
"There are snakes here?"
"No, there are not snakes here, Im simply trying to explain how these systems work," Tye said sharply. "Just stay down until I get up."
"Whatever you say," said Poole.
Sixty-eight seconds later, they had reached a flat stretch of the sun-scorched gra.s.s so common to the islands, a barren field incapable of nurturing palms or flamboyant trees. "Now," said Hawthorne, getting to his feet. "Were clear." They raced across the acre of wasteland, suddenly stopping at strange, m.u.f.fled sounds in the distance, animal sounds, high-pitched and erratic. "Dogs," whispered Tyrell into the radio. "Theyve picked up our scent."
"Oh, my G.o.d!"
"Its the wind-its from the northwest."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we run like h.e.l.l southeast. Follow me." Hawthorne and Poole ran diagonally to their left toward the sh.o.r.eline, entering a grove of travelers-palms. Breathless and standing next to each other under the cover of the spreading foliage, Tyrell spoke. "This doesnt make sense."
"Why? The dogs arent yipping."
"Were out of their wind scent, but thats not what I mean." Tye looked around, angling his eyes up and around. "These palms are travelers; they grow out like fans, the kind you wave in front of your face."
"So?"
"Theyre the first to crack in heavy winds-see, a few have broken from the storms, but a lot of them havent."
"So?"
"What we saw from the sub, directly in front of the cove. Most everything had been leveled, uprooted, flat on the ground."
"I dont know what youre talkin about. Some trees survive, some dont. So what?"
"These are on fairly high ground, the coves lower."
"Freaks of nature," explained Poole. "When Lake Pontchartrain blows, all kinds of crazy things happen. One time the whole left side of our summer place was ripped off, but a doghouse right in front of it wasnt touched. No accountin for nature."
"Maybe, maybe not. Come on." They threaded their way through the thick fan-shaped trees until they came to a small promontory that overlooked the cove. Tyrell removed the pair of night-vision binoculars from his belted pouch and brought them to his eyes. "Come here, Jackson. Look through these-directly across, near the top of the hill over there-and tell me what you see." Tyrell gave the younger man the binoculars and watched him as Poole scanned the ground above the cove.
"Hey, its weird, Tye," said the air force officer. "Theres a few blurred lines of light through the trees, goin straight across a long way and angled down, but no source."
"Deep green hurricane shutters, camouflaged. No ones ever designed the perfect machinery for exterior "hurricanes; the slats havent been invented that close perfectly every time, every inch. Your beeping machines were on the mark, Lieutenant. Thats one big mother of a house over there, and inside is someone very important to this insanity, maybe the b.i.t.c.h herself."
"Yknow, Commander, dont you think its about time you told the major and me what this whole G.o.dd.a.m.ned things about? We hear things like "that b.i.t.c.h and "terrorists and "disappearin secret papers and "international chaos, and weve been d.a.m.n well ordered not to ask questions. Well, Cath wont say it cause shes by-the-book Neilsen, and like me shes doin what shes doin because of Charlie, but here I part company with her. I dont give a fiddlers fart about orders. If Im goin to get my precious body blown away, I want to know why."
"Good heavens, Lieutenant, I didnt know you had so many words in you."