Part 5 (2/2)
The bathroom was a mere closet with a toilet fixture. A small porcelain-enameled bathtub was plumbed to a corner of the.open living area and s.h.i.+elded from public view only by a thin curtain on an overhead rod.
The fancy radio had been a gift from Evita. Juan was a short-wave addict. He kept a log of foreign broadcast stations and their schedules. He was also an informal student of languages and had spent many hours at that radio. Evita had provided him with a collection of language textbooks, which showed evidence of heavy use.
The lads had purchased the five-acre truckfarm via a government-subsidized loan program. Part of Operation Bootstrap, Bolan a.s.sumed. They also owned an ancient one-ton flatbed truck which Juan used to haul his produce to the marketplaces of San Juan. He did not plan to be a fanner forever, though. ”One day,” he told Bolan, ”I will work as a linguist- an interpreter. Maybe I will work for the United Nations.”
The young couple were aware of Bolan's situation. Evita had explained the problem at the outset; still, they had welcomed him as an honored guest and seemed to be planning on him remaining for an extended stay.
But Bolan was not so certain that they fully understood all the implications of his visit. As the women cleared the table, he caught Juan's eye and stepped outside to light a cigarette.
The youth followed him through the doorway and told him, ”It is all right, Senor Senor Bolan. You may smoke inside.” Bolan. You may smoke inside.”
”I want to talk to you,” Bolan explained. ”One guy to another.” ”Si. Talk.”
Tin leaving pretty quick. Don't misunderstand. I appreciate your hospitality. But I'm a walking plague, Juan. The hounds of h.e.l.l are after me. Sooner or later they'll find me. I don't want them to find me here.”
The boy fidgeted and stared at the ground. ”I will help you,” he stated quietly. ”Show me how to shoot the big gun.”
”No good,” Bolan said. ”There's more to making war than shooting a gun. When death is staring at you, or when blood starts flowing, you suddenly lose everything that's human. If you're not trained for that sort of thing, you're left with nothing but blind reaction. A trained soldier is programmed into certain instinctive actions. I can't program you, Juan, simply by showing you where the trigger is on a gun.”
”I can be of help,” the boy insisted. ”Sure you could, but not enough,” Bolan told him. ”If the headhunters find me here, blood will flow. And not just yours and mine.” He jerked his head toward the cabin. ”Their's too. So I've got to move on.”
”I will help you to move on, then. Unless it is that you do not trust me.”
”You know better than that.” Bolan looked into the sky and tried to estimate the angle between the sun and the western horizon. ”We're pretty close to the equator, aren't we,” he murmured.
”Si, about 20 degrees north lat.i.tude.” The boy smiled and somewhat shyly added, ”I do not know this until I study my radio propagation tables. It is a good thing to know, yes?”
Bolan sighed. ”Yes, Juan, it's always a good idea to know where you are. And 20 degrees north also happens to be where South Vietnam is at. Isn't that a h.e.l.l of a parallel.” He grimaced and added, ”Would you say we have about two hours of daylight left?”
”Yes, this is true.”
Bolan was trying to weigh the thing in his mind, but Juan beat him to the decision. ”You will stay at least until darkness comes,” the Puerto Bican insisted. ”And then I will guide you wherever you wish to go.”
That makes sense,” Bolan agreed. His attention swiveled northward. ”I saw an open pit mine or something a few miles onto the high ground. What are they mining?”
Juan shrugged his shoulders. ”I think construction materials. Gravel, maybe. Maybe cement.”
”They do any blasting?”
”Blasting? Oh, explosives. Si, sometimes.”
”If you were going to charter a boat,” Bolan asked, quickly changing the subject, ”how much money would you figure you'd need?”
”What kind of a boat, senorT senorT ”Something capable of inter-island travel, a deep water job with a motor.”
”As cheaply as possible?”
”That's the idea. A small fis.h.i.+ng boat, maybe.”
”You wish to have such a boat?”
”I'm considering the idea, Juan.”
”For to escape with?”
”Yeah.”
”I will find this boat for you, Sefior Sefior Bolan. At the price you say.” Bolan. At the price you say.”
Bolan dug inside his s.h.i.+rt and through the sldnsuit to the chamois money belt at his waist. His Vegas ”winnings” were secure and dry there. He worked several bills free and handed them over.
”Do what you can with this,” he said.
”Thousand dollar bills,” Juan observed in a hushed voice. They are real?”
”Genuine Grover Clevelands,” Bolan a.s.sured him. ”Liberated from occupied Vegas just last night. Don't worry, it's cool money. Can you spend it without attracting the wrong kind of attention?”
The kid was dazed by the sudden wealth in his hand. ”I would spend it at the very gates of h.e.l.l,” he muttered.
”Okay, but be very careful. Get the best deal you can on the boat and keep the change for yourself. How-P”
”I could not keep your money, Mack Bolan.”
The h.e.l.l you could not. Call it a birthday present from me to the kid, if you'd rather.”
”But I will need less than half-”
”The better for the kid,” Bolan said brusquely. ”Shut up about that and listen, to me, Juan. I don't want anything new or tourista tourista looking. Understand? I want something old and decrepit looking, but seaworthy and with enough fuel reserves to at least island-hop.” looking. Understand? I want something old and decrepit looking, but seaworthy and with enough fuel reserves to at least island-hop.”
”Island hop?”
”You know... travel from island to island.”
”Oh, yes. A diesel would be better.”
”I leave that to you. But find someone you can personally trust-that is, if you have any choice. If not, then do the best you can and leave the rest to me.”
”I must be very quiet with this,” the boy reflected.
”Very.”
”I think I know the right man. Do not worry, Senor Senor Bolan. I Bolan. I will find will find the right man.” the right man.”
Bolan grinned. ”I thought you were going to call me Mack.”
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