Part 10 (1/2)
”Sanctuary, eh,” Bolan commented.
”Yes. And you have heard of the syndicate money man who has taken sanctuary in Israel?”
Bolan nodded. ”Who hasn't?”
”Well, couriers travel frequently between Tel Aviv and Port au Prince.”
Bolan's eyebrows went up. ”You aren't speaking of official government couriers.”
”No.”
Bolan said, ”I see.”
”My department fears a choking network of influence reaching from the Mediterranean to the Caribbean. And all centering about this untouchable Sir Edward Stuart.”
”You're not suggesting that the Israeli and Haitian governments are cooking up-”
”Of course not. This is entirely a syndicate matter, not a political one.”
”I have the feeling you're trying to sell me something, Evita,” Bolan said soberly.
”But no, I am selling nothing. It is right that you should head for the home ground, as you say. Caribe will keep for another time.”
She was wearing an entirely new hat now, Bolan decided.
He said, ”Sure.”
She said, ”I speak, of course, from the greatest confidence. Sir Edward Stuart is the new Meyer Lansky of the western world. I thought you should know this. And that he enjoys the protection of the Haitian borders. He cannot be touched by any law, anywhere.”
”Except one, eh?” Bolan replied, sighing. She smiled and said, ”Yes, except perhaps one.”
”You're absolutely certain of the game?” She soberly nodded her head. ”The game is absolute.”
Bolan fiddled with ”the safety of the Thompson. ”Okay,” he said gruffly. Til look in on Haiti on my way out.”
She gazed into the palms of her hands and said, in the now familiar mimicry of Bolan's gruffness, ”Okay. And good luck.”
And Bolan knew that he'd been had by an expert. He said, ”You told me earlier that you had friends in high places. How high?”
She smiled and replied, ”High enough.” High enough to set up an executioner. Sure. He said, ”There are no police lines at Puerta Vista, are there.”
Very quietly she told him, ”Not that one may notice. I I am the police line, Mack Bolan.” am the police line, Mack Bolan.”
He sighed and said, ”I guess it's about time you proved that.”
Smiling rather sadly, she opened her blouse and freed the sculpted b.r.e.a.s.t.s from the confining bra.s.siere. She turned the cups out, parted the fabric liner, and removed a small sc.r.a.p of vinyl material. Reproduced upon the vinyl was a miniaturized identification card, complete with photo and official embossment. Bolan sighed and gave it ack to her.
He watched her get herself back together, then he said, ”Well, it's been a h.e.l.l of a war game, hasn't it. You couldn't have set it up all the way, though. You've been playing it by ear, haven't you.”
She said, ”Yes. From the moment I realized that you were at Gla.s.s Bay. I spoke the truth, however, concerning the strike force. They are present, and they do strongly desire your body. I was ordered to do whatever possible to insure that you met death at Gla.s.s Bay. That failing, I was to attempt to contact you and lead you to San Juan, where you would be forcibly met. But then you you contacted contacted me me, and in a most dramatic manner.” She tapped her breast. ”I also have certain discretions which I may employ as the occasion may demand. If this is is what you say playing by ear...” She shrugged and looked away. what you say playing by ear...” She shrugged and looked away.
He told her, ”You do a great bedroom scene, Big Eve. Another discretion?”
”I will admit that it began deliberately,” she replied. ”But it did not continue in that fas.h.i.+on. You must remember that.”
Bolan would never forget. He smiled soberly and said, ”Well, from one pro to another, I have to admire your footwork. So okay. You think I should hit the guy in Haiti. Can I rely on your identification?”
”Positively.”
”But this is not an official request from the government of Puerto Rico.”
”No. This is an official suggestion from one pro to another.”
He grinned. ”Do your discretionary powers allow another farewell kiss?”
She threw herself into the embrace, melting against him with a new high of fervor. After a moment he pulled away and told her, ”h.e.l.l, Eve, that's not farewell.”
Before she could reply, the windmill sounds of a rotary wing aircraft stole between them and sent them hurrying to their stations.
There had been no further opportunity for personal communications throughout the next few minutes, and the tense journey to Puerta Vista had been marked by a brooding silence on the part of each, except for the terse commands required for the success of the mission. *
And then they were down, and hurrying forward to the rendezvous with Juan Escadrillo. Bolan found himself appreciating this new hat of Evita's as much as any of the others.
She was an Eve measuring considerably larger than life.
She was, In a sense, a female Executioner.
The ldd was in a hard sweat and stumbling all over his own breath.
”Senor Bolan!” he cried. ”I feared you would not cornel” Bolan!” he cried. ”I feared you would not cornel”
Bolan squeezed the boy's shoulders with both hands and said, ”What's the panic, Juan? Couldn't you get the boat?”
”Si, I have the boat. But...”
”But what?”
”They have my Rosalital”
Bolan groaned, ”Oh h.e.l.l.”
”They say they will feed her to the sharksl They say it is a trade, you you for for her her.”
Calmly, Evita said, ”Tell us what happened, Juan.”
The boy's eyes dropped and he replied, ”I did not follow the instructions. Rosalita did not wish to go to my uncle's without me. She insisted upon remaining with me and waiting in the truck while I conduct the business.” The agonized gaze lifted in a search of Bolan's impa.s.sive face. ”I allowed her to do so. It is my fault, all of it.”