Hazard (38 page)

TELL ISRAELIS IMPERATIVE RENDEZVOUS

TOMORROW DAWN MEDITERRANEAN COAST

TEN MILES EAST RAHMAN

That was just in case, a way out for him if his luck held. For sure there'd be a lot of pissed-off Arabs on the lookout for him at the airport and all other usual departure points.

Which was also the reason he'd bought the Jeep. Now, he decided, it was time to attend to it. He went out to the parking area where he'd left it. At the end of the hotel drive he took a right and drove up to the plateau of the Pyramids. No one there now. He parked the Jeep out of sight on the west side of the Grand Pyramid between two of the many large humps of dirt that were the old tombs. He realized then how bright the night was with the moon flooding a silvery light, defining things even at a distance. It wouldn't help.

Returning to the suite he had some time to spare. He ordered up a couple of beers. The hotel offered Schlitz and Pabst but he decided to try an Egyptian brand called
Stella.
It was quite strong and had a strange licorice flavor. Swigging straight from the bottle, he turned on the television. The show in progress was “Peyton Place,” and he got a laugh watching all those small-town mixed-up American characters emoting in Arabic. When that was over, in place of a commerical a woman commentator came on to extoll the benefits of intrauterine devices. With diagrams. After her came an old “Bonanza.”

At eleven-thirty he got ready.

He put on the black shirt and the painted black sneakers. Then he cut several short lengths of nylon line and knotted them together to create a harness that went over both shoulders and around his chest and back. He tied the six hot-water bottles to it, so that he had one on each side, three behind, and one right front. That left room for the Llama and its holster.

He checked the Llama. It had a full clip. He took it off safety.

Six pockets: His jeans had four and the shirt two. Into them he put the bolts and nuts, jig-saw blades, pliers, screwdriver, mascara compact, Zippo lighter, his passports, money and the key to the Jeep. He reserved the right front pocket for his special knife.

He tied the magnesium extrusions together and wrapped them in some of the store paper from his shopping. What remained of the nylon line, about eighty feet, he gathered into a neat series of loops and hung from his belt. He rechecked to make sure the hot-water bottles were secure. Then he put on the black caftan robe. It was floor length and plenty loose all around. He felt bulgy but didn't look it.

He switched off the television, paused to guzzle the last of the beer, picked up the package of extrusions and went out.

He felt conspicuous going through the lobby but no one paid him any special notice. As far as they were concerned he was just another tourist gone native. As he left the hotel it occurred to him that he was beating them for the tab.

Down the road a short way, he crossed over to the golf course. No need to hurry, except to escape that part of himself telling him it was foolish to risk everything on little more than a hunch. He countered that with
there are no sure things
and other times when he'd gone against the form and won. Like that afternoon two years ago at Belmont when he'd bet it all on a maiden filly just because he'd liked the way she held her head, and she'd gotten out in front and gone wire to wire for him. He also thought maybe he wouldn't be doing this if he'd had some action lately. None for two weeks. Hell, how long can a boozer go without a drink?

He passed between two cypresses and there was the house, less than a hundred feet away. As shown on Gabil's plans it was large and enclosed all around by a fifteen foot wall. The wall was two feet thick. Set six inches above its top surface was an infrared alarm system with small relay units spaced at regular intervals. Anyone trying to climb over would unknowingly break the invisible beam and activate the alarm, a wowing siren. There were also floodlights along the top of the wall, directed in and down. The house was situated well within the perimeter like an island within an island.

One thing at a time, Hazard told himself. He paced off forty yards along the west side and looked up. There was where he'd try to go over. He took off the robe.

Then he got out the mascara compact. His mouth was so dry he had to tongue his palate and gums to work up saliva. He spat on his fingers, rubbed them on the little black cake and then on his face, repeating that until his face, neck, ears and hands were covered.

Kneeling, he unwrapped, untied and separated the extrusions according to width. He connected one of each size with the bolts and nuts, using the screwdriver and pliers to tighten as much as possible. Alternately adding a narrow and a wide, he soon had them all joined. He picked up the thirty-foot length they now created. It was light, but unwieldy.

He leaned it against the wall, so that one end hit about two thirds of the way up. Gauging from that, he lifted slowly until that end was where he wanted it, precisely on the upper outer edge of the wall. For a test he reached up where he could along the length of extrusions and hung all his weight from it. It was rigid. The lower end dug in and held in the sandy soil.

What he had was a ramp six inches wide going up at about a thirty-degree angle.

It turned out to be more difficult than he'd thought. He went up slowly, hesitating after each step to make sure he had balance before taking the next. He couldn't have done it in regular shoes, but the sneakers really grabbed.

As he climbed, more and more of the house came into view beyond the wall and then the compound around the house, brightly lighted. At the rear corner of the house, about seventy feet to his left, he saw an armed guard. A clutch inside cost him concentration. He wavered but managed to regain his balance.

A few more steps and he'd reached the top of the wall. He placed one foot on its outer edge, then the other foot. The advantage he had was knowing the infrared beam was there, knowing exactly where it was. It gave him a clearance of six inches below to work with and nearly twelve inches on each side. He told himself to imagine the beam was a visible high-voltage wire, and stepped high over it to gain the inside surface of the top. Keeping in place, he turned to face out.

The next part was going to be tough. He couldn't squat because of the beam. He had to bend from the waist to reach the end of his makeshift ramp. Using both hands, he got a good grip on it and pulled it to him and up, more and more of it, hand over hand until he had enough to bring it up horizontally over his head. He executed another slow turn in place, to again be facing the house.

Gabil's plans had indicated a distance of at least forty feet all around from the wall to the house. Except here where the servant's quarters winged out some and were built lower, about equal in height with the wall. It was, according to Gabil's plans, twenty-five feet from the wall to the flat roof of the servant's quarters.

Hazard fed out the length of extrusions, black side down, until it reached. Carefully he allowed the far end to rest on the roof. Then he placed his end on the inner top surface of the wall, between his feet.

In addition to the man on guard at the rear corner of the house there were two others at the front corner. All had automatic rifles slung to their shoulders. They were leaning, slouched, restless, smoking, apparently feeling secure—at least they weren't very alert. The compound was bright as day from all the lights along the wall. That, as Hazard had hoped, was in his favor. The lights mostly eclipsed anything above their downward glare. Hazard's painting the underside of the extrusions black and making himself as obscure as possible were extra precautions. The house, Hazard saw, was three tall stories with various levels and balconies, about thirty rooms.

He placed a sneakered foot on the narrow ramp and took the first step. Then another. He told himself to take it slow and sure, just keep going, but when he was half way across he was pounding so hard inside he wanted to stop. He tried not to think about the consequences of falling; bullets from their automatic rifles chopping and burning into him. What was happening to his legs? He felt as though he didn't have legs, numb from the hips down. Still, his feet kept moving, short step after short step until he reached the roof.

He let out a long, quiet exhale. Had he held his breath all that time?

He decided there was less danger in leaving the ramp where it was. For his return trip. Stepping lightly, he went across the roof and over a railing to be on a wide exterior balcony. From that balcony he went up to another level and from there climbed onto the main roof. It was also flat.

Again from Gabil's plans, Hazard knew all he had to do was cross over and go down one level to reach Mutsafa's room. Mustafa might be sleeping. With a window open. It would be easy. One silenced shot and it would be all over.

The notion tempted Hazard but he pushed it out of mind and went to the far rear edge to look down.

About six feet below was a spacious horizontal roof of glass, countless individual panes framed by wood. In most other parts of the world the frames would have been metal and the panes sealed tightly in; however, here where rain was a miracle there was no need for that.

Considerable dust had gathered and caked on the panes but Hazard could make out the lighted room beneath. No one there. It was, as Gabil had said, a swimming-pool area, all blue-and-white mosaic tiles. No water in the pool, instead thick planks forming a platform.

Resting on the platform … the canisters.

Hazard swung his legs over and got a foothold on a small architectural outcropping. He gently lowered himself onto the glass roof, not sure it would take his weight. He felt it give a little, but staying on the edge where it was likely to be stronger he made his way to the corner. Just around the corner, he noticed, was an upright balcony column that might serve his purpose.

He took out the screwdriver, squatted and got to work. The putty around the panes was sun baked and old and under the blade of the screwdriver it came off in chunks. When he had removed all the putty from around the first frame he inserted the blade of the screwdriver between the glass and its frame and pried the glass up so his fingers could lift it out completely. He repeated that process until the six corner panes were removed.

He used a saw blade to cut through the frames. They were soft enough wood and the saw didn't make much noise, but it was tedious work. Hazard's impatience made him want to just break the frames out. However, he kept sawing and he'd soon created a large-enough opening. He removed the nylon line from his belt. A helpful idea occurred to him at that moment. He let the line go free and then regathered it in layers of equal-sized reverse loops. He inserted the end of the line through the loops and as he pulled it through and out it automatically formed knots every three feet. He'd learned that one night in a Lackawanna boxcar from a black ex-sailor whom he now thanked.

He tied the line securely around the balcony column before dropping it down through the opening.

Knot by knot he went down the line, about thirty feet to the tiled floor. He saw there was only one entrance to the room—large double doors that connected to the rest of the house. The doors were closed now. Gabil had told him two guards were constantly posted outside the room. He had to be quiet. No mistakes.

The atomizing pods were off to one side. The canisters lay no more than a yard apart on the platform, their business ends pointed toward the shallow part of the pool nearest the door. Noiselessly, Hazard stepped onto the platform. He saw the serial numbers on the canisters, and hoped he was right. He took a quick look at the unlocking valves the Arabs had made. They were threaded into place. A simple lever on the valve would release the contents of the canisters. The thought of it gave Hazard a chill.

He untied one of the hot-water bottles, unscrewed its cap, and poured napalm over one of the canisters. The substance was thicker, more gluey now. It ran slowly down and around and under the cylindrical shape, adhering to the metal. He distributed the rest of his supply of napalm equally over the two canisters.

Anthrax bacteria cannot survive under conditions of extreme heat. That was what Hazard was counting on. That thought he'd had about inadequately cooked meat and anthrax had given him the idea.

The napalm would heat the canisters and their contents to a high degree. Because the canisters were made of metal they would be very conductive. The anthrax bacteria would be dead in minutes. Pinchon and his Arabs would have nothing.
If
the canisters contained anthrax. Heat would not affect vx–10.

He lit the Zippo, held it at arm's length.

The napalm burst into flame, immediately producing a heat so intense that Hazard had to back off. That canister ignited the other and then both were aflame along their entire lengths, underneath and all around. The flames went up, six, eight, ten feet. Black smoke spiraled.

A few minutes and the flames subsided, but Hazard could still see the heat simmering and swirling the air above the canisters.

A tinkling sound.

And another, louder.

Hazard looked up and realized what was happening. The extreme heat was causing the glass above to crack. Sections of the panes were falling and shattering on the tiles. More and more glass came raining down.

The Arab guards had to hear it.

Hazard was in the shallow end of the pool. He'd never get up and out of the room in time. He crouched down close to the side of the pool, out of sight.

The double doors opened.

The two Arab guards saw the smoldering canisters. What was it, an accident? They took a couple of steps forward, their automatic rifles leveled and ready. Actually, they doubted anyone was there. They were more afraid of the canisters.

Hazard's first thought was to go for his Llama. The two Arabs were only a dozen feet from him. If he suddenly stood up he might get one. Might.

He glanced up at the canisters. Their valves were just out of reach. It was, he decided, a chance. At least it was a more useful way to go.