Part 12 (1/2)
Still gruff, Bolan replied, ”It wouldn't surprise me.”
”She left this for me, Matador. Matador.” He shrugged his shoulders and gently added, ”As an explanation, perhaps. Can you read He shrugged his shoulders and gently added, ”As an explanation, perhaps. Can you read Espanol? Espanol?”
Bolan shook his head and took a heavy drag on the Cuban-style cigarette. ”And I don't believe I want to hear it, Toro. I don't believe in grief, and I really can't afford it.”
Toro protested, ”This is not for grief, Matador. It is for courage, and for remembering a s.h.i.+ning light in the darkness. You will allow me to read it for you?”
Bolan sighed, nodded, and closed his eyes.
”It will not sound the same, maybe, in English, but this is how it would translate: The world dies 'twixt every heartbeat, and is born again in each new perception of the mind.
For each of us, the order of life is to perceive perceive and and perish perish and and perceive perceive again, again, and who can say which is which- for every human experience builds a new world in its own image- and death itself is but an unusual perception.
Live large that you may experience large and thus, hopefully, die large.”
Toro's voice broke as he added, ”That is it, amigo. amigo.”
Bolan sat silent for a long moment. Then he opened his eyes and crushed out the cigarette. ”Margarita wrote that?” he quietly inquired.
”She did. Tell me, Matador, Matador, did the little soldier die large?” did the little soldier die large?”
”Yes, Toro,” Bolan a.s.sured him, ”she died very, very large.”
”She was muy muy angry with me, angry with me, senor. senor. Because I would not offer you a.s.sistance with your war.” Because I would not offer you a.s.sistance with your war.”
Bolan sighed. ”Well, Toro, you've got those snakes to worry about.”
”There are snakes, senor, senor, everywhere.” He looked out at the distant lights. ”Shall we live large, everywhere.” He looked out at the distant lights. ”Shall we live large, Matador, Matador, for a little while - together?” for a little while - together?”
The Executioner smiled. ”What sort of weaponry do we have, amigo? amigo?”
”We have the magnifico magnifico Honeywell, also personal weapons.” Honeywell, also personal weapons.”
Bolan got to his feet and tested his sea legs. ”Does this thing always buck like this?” he asked.
”Si, she is a she is a Yanqui Yanqui buckaroo.” buckaroo.”
”You'll have to get the Honeywell mounted.”
”This is done. The Honeywell is deck-mounted, Matador. Matador.”
Bolan said, ”Show me.”
Toro led the way just above and behind the cabin to what had originally served as a mount for a fifty-calibre machine gun. A small wooden platform had been added, and the Honeywell was bolted to this. Bolan nodded and ducked back into the cabin to escape the stinging spray which was now constantly flaying the main deck. He said, ”Okay, I'm manning. I'll need another two men to crew me. How do you have the belts configured?”
”Your shoulder, amigo. amigo. Will this not-?” Will this not-?”
”It's all right,” Bolan a.s.sured him. ”What's in the belts?”
”High-explosive only. For war at sea-”
”Okay that's fine, but have some flares ready just in case. And make up a belt of double-ought.” He grinned. ”We might want to do some deck-raking.”
Toro grinned back. ”And we shall largely live.”
Bolan turned away quickly, so that Toro could not see the surge of emotion across his face, muttering beneath his breath, ”And a little soldada soldada shall lead them.” shall lead them.”
The Merry Drew Merry Drew was underway and moving sluggishly in the general direction of Biscayne Bay. The PT crossed her a hundred yards astern and heeled into an upwind run. was underway and moving sluggishly in the general direction of Biscayne Bay. The PT crossed her a hundred yards astern and heeled into an upwind run. Soldados Soldados with light machine guns were lashed to the deck, some were poking up from the cabin, others took positions around the hatch to the troop compartment. Toro was in the conn, just above the cabin. Bolan, standing grimly spraddle-legged at the Honeywell in a constant wash of spray, shouted up to him, ”What's our speed?” with light machine guns were lashed to the deck, some were poking up from the cabin, others took positions around the hatch to the troop compartment. Toro was in the conn, just above the cabin. Bolan, standing grimly spraddle-legged at the Honeywell in a constant wash of spray, shouted up to him, ”What's our speed?”
The Cuban's voice, lashed back by the wind, announced, ”Revolutions at 40 knots, Matador. Matador.”
Bolan yelled, ”Let's run by once and confirm that identification.”
”Si! We identify on the upwind run!” We identify on the upwind run!”
Bolan tied himself to the gun mount and tried to estimate the correction he would need in view of the shuddering, heaving platform, the relative speeds of the two vessels, and the howling gale-force winds. They were quickly closing on the larger vessel and beginning to run alongside.
The cruise boat was brightly lighted from stem to stern. Bolan could make out people standing in the protected overhang of the boat deck, and an interested crowd was gathering at a brightly lighted window which he presumed to be the main lounge. The Merry Drew Merry Drew was not quite a pa.s.senger liner but she was, at worst, a junior edition of one. She seemed a stable ma.s.s beside the plunging PT boat, her bow cutting smoothly through the wild waters in an undisturbed transit. The bridge was high and sleek, and the pilot house was dimly illumined behind a row of square windows reaching from one side of the vessel to the other. was not quite a pa.s.senger liner but she was, at worst, a junior edition of one. She seemed a stable ma.s.s beside the plunging PT boat, her bow cutting smoothly through the wild waters in an undisturbed transit. The bridge was high and sleek, and the pilot house was dimly illumined behind a row of square windows reaching from one side of the vessel to the other.
Her pa.s.sengers were inspecting the PT with considerable interest. One of them waved, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted, ”s.h.i.+p ahoy!” Others around him were laughing and pointing at the PT as it plunged and bucked through the cresting waters, obviously amused by the wild ride being experienced by those upon her.
A man in a white uniform stepped to the wing of the bridge, a megaphone in his hand, and called over as they pa.s.sed abeam. ”Do not attempt a transfer of pa.s.sengers. Suggest you follow us into the harbor.”
Toro lifted his own bullhorn and replied, ”What we transfer, capitan, can be accomplished at sea!” The PT lunged forward in a sudden acceleration and quickly slid ahead of the Merry Drew, Merry Drew, heading off into a wide arc and coming about for the downwind run. heading off into a wide arc and coming about for the downwind run.