The Intruders (39 page)

“Okay.”

“See that shack jut up there on the left? From there a fellow would
have a good view of the boat and the dock.

Keep your eyes on that. I’m going to slip around and see what they’re
doing with all these weapons they’re taking off that ship.”

“Leave me one of your knives.”

“‘Which one?”

“the sticker!, Flap drew it from the sheath hanging down his back and
handed it to Jake butt first. Then he took two steps and disappeared
into the jungle.

A throwing knife with a needle-sharp point and a slick handle, the
weapon was perhaps ten inches long Jake slipped it into his boot top,
leaving just enough of the hilt exposed so that he could get it out
quickly. He hadn’t the foggiest idea how to throw it, but he had no
qualm about jabbing it into somebody to defend himself. His throbbing
side was a constant reminder that these people wanted him dead.

Lying under a tangle of vegetation, he rolled on his good side and
gingerly unzipped his flight suit. The bandage was encrusted with old
blood. Nothing fresh. He Apped the flight suit back up and rolled on
his belly. He wormed his way forward until he could just see the shack
and the pier beyond, then chocked to ensure that he was completely
hidden.

He decided he was.

At least two hours had passed when Flap returned. It was hard to judge.
Time passed slowly when you were lying in a jungle with bugs crawling
around and flying critters gnawing at your hide. If you were short of
sleep, so hungry that your stomach seemed knotted, suffering from a
raging thirst and had diarrhea, every minute was agony. Jake dared not
leave his post, so he shit where he lay.

Once he heard a jet. It was far away, the sound of its engines just a
low hum.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Flap whispered when he crawled up beside Jake,
startling him half out of his skin. “What died?”

“That’s shit, you bastard. Never smelled it before, huh?”

“For crying out loud, you could at least have dropped your flight suit-”

“There’s someone over there in that shack. He stuck his head out twice
and looked around. Seen smoke a couple times too, just a whiff, like
he’s standing right inside the door smoking a cigarette.”

“Mere’s two of them in there. I looked in the back ,.window.”

Jake had kept his eyes glued on that shack and hadn’t once glimpsed
Flap. For the first time he realized just how terrifically good Le Beau
was in the jungle.

“Here, this is for you.”

Flap passed over an AK47. “It’s loaded with a full clip.

Safety is on.”

“Found this lying around, did you?”

“Relax. They won’t find the guy who had it for quite a while. Maybe
never. Gimme my sticker back. I feel kinda naked without it.”

Jake got the knife from his boot and handed it over “Lotta good that
would have done you in your boot. You should have stabbed it into the
dirt right by your hand, so you could grab it quick.”

“Next time. Until then I’ll just stick to ol’ Betsy here.

Appreciate the gift. So what’s the setup?”

The bad guys were stacking the weapons back in the jungle , out of sight
from the air. Most of the stuff was still in crates. “They got a hell
of a pile out there but I don’t think they got it all. Certainly not a
shipload. There’s no way of telling what’s left on the ship.”

“I’ve been figuring,” Jake said. “Seems to me that the first thing we
have to do after dark is take out those two guys in the shack and check
out that cabin cruiser.”

“It may be booby trapped.”

“I don’t think so. That was the boat we heard last night.

The guys in the shack are supposed to kW us if we try for it.”

“Can’t start the engine here.”

“I know. We’ll have to cast off and drift down river. We can use one
of your knives to cut us some poles to keep it Off the banks. Then when
we’re a couple miles down river, we’ll start the engine and motor out to
sea.”

“What if the engine won’t start?”

“We just drift on out.”

“They’ll follow.”

“Not if we blow up the anuno dump and sink all these little boats.”

Flap gave a soft whistle of amazement. “You don’t want much, do you?”

“So what’s your plan?” Jake asked.

“Kill the guys in the shack and steal the boat. The Navy can come back
any old time and bomb these dudes to hell.”

Jake snorted. “Your faith in the system is truly amazing.

Here we are in a foreign county-Indonesia, I think. Whatever. Assuming
we manage to get rescued and tell our tale, the only thing the U.S. Navy
can do is send a polite note to the State Department. State is going to
pass this hot tip to the National Security Council, which win probably
staff the shit out of it. The fact that these weapons are going to be
sold to revolutionary zealots in Asia, the Mideast or Afnca who will use
them to cause as much hell as humanly possible and murder everyone who
disagrees with them won’t cause one of those comfortable bureaucrats to
miss a minute’s sleep. When the nincompoops who brought you Vietnam get
through scratching their butts, they’ll give the U.S. ambassador to
Indonesia a note to give to whoever is running this country this week.
That whoever may or may not do anything. After all, he’s probably
getting a cut of this operation. There’s a whale of a lot of money to
be made here: your karate expert captain friend is probably smart enough
to spread it around a little.”

“A lot of the weapons are still on Fidel’s freighter,” Flap pointed out.

“Well have to blow it up too.”

“Just out of curiosity, what little army is going to do all this blowing
up you envision?”

“You and me.

Le Beau rolled over on his back and threw an arm across his face. In a
moment he said, “You got gall, Grafton, 1 911 give you that. You lay
there with a bullet hole in your side, wearing your own slut and tell me
that ‘you and me’ are going to blow up a weapons cache and a ship! My
ass.

They’ll smell you fifty feet away. You want me to go do the hero bit
and probably get myself killed.”

“We’ll both go. But this is a volunteer deal. You’re senior to me and
we aren’t in the airplane anymore. It’s your call.”

“Thank you from the bottom of my teensy little heart.

Ali me … My second command-1 used to lead a whole platoon, you know.
Now it’s just me and one wounded flyboy with the shits. My military
career is going up like a rocket.”

“Oh, cork it. What do you want to do?”

“You think you’re up for this?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you asked for it. Here’s the plan.”

As Jake Grafton listened the thought occurred to him that Flap Le Beau
had been thinking about screwing these pirates all afternoon. He got a
warm feeling. Flap had let him suggest it. Flap Le Beau was one hell
of a good guy.

“Not right after dark,” Flap said. “They’ll expect us then.

After midnight, in the wee hours.”

“The moon will be up sometime after midnight,” Jake pointed out. “The
clouds will probably obscure it though.”

“It would be good if the clouds let the moonlight through.

They’ll relax and maybe sleep.”

They pulled back into the jungle to a small stream. Jake undressed and
sat in it. The diarrhea was drying up, a little anyway, leaving him
very thirsty. He drank and drank from the stream. Then he washed out
his flight suit and underwear and put them back on.

Finally he and Flap stretched out in the damp, rotting leaves. The bugs
were bad, but they were very tired and the muffled noise from the
village and the pier lulled them to sleep. They were both emotionally
wrung out from their experiences of the last two days and nights, so
their sleep was dreamless. When they awoke the light was fading rapidly
and the noise from the ship had ceased. They drank again from the
stream, Jake relieved himself then they crawled back to the vantage
point where they could see the shack and the small boats.

The waiting was hard.

When you have finally crossed the threshold, left behind good meals, a
comfortable bed, clean clothes and the relaxed company of friends, life
becomes a mere battle for survival.

The nonessential sinks out of sight.

They lay in the foliage, one man on his stomach watching, the other on
his side or back napping. Fortunately there was a small electric light
mounted on a pole near the boat dock.

The hours dragged. With nothing to look forward to but battle, and
perhaps death, delay was painful. Yet they waited.

The guards in the shack were changed several hours into the night. Two
new men came, the two inside left. All of them carried rifles.

No one approached the boats. Even when the rain came.

At first it was gentle, then it increased in intensity. Still no one
came to cover the boats or check their moorings.

AD activity on the dark freighter ceased. From their vantage point the
watchers caught occasional glimpses of cigarettes flaring, but the ship
was just a blacker spot in the black night.

Finally activity in the village ceased.

The rain continued to fall.

Jake slept again.

When Flap shook him awake, the rain had slowed to a drizzle.

“Look,” he whispered so softly that at first Jake didn’t understand. He
had to inch around to see what Flap was pointing at. After several
seconds he realized he was looking at two men standing by the boat dock
smoking. They were away from the light, but there they were, quite
plain.

They came out of the shack. I’m going now.”

“Okay.” Jake fumbled with the AK-47, made sure the action was clear of
leaves, then eased it through the foliage in front of him and spread his
feet. Only then did he realize Flap had disappeared.

Minutes passed as he watched the figures by the boat dock. He could
hear the murmur of voices. They stood smoking and talking.

Jake waited. If Flap were discovered now, they had no choice but to try
for the cabin cruiser.

Finally the men turned and ambled uphill for the shack.

One of them paused while the other went on ahead. He was facing in this
direction. Only when he turned toward the shack did Jake realize that
he was zipping up his pants. He had relieved himself.

The first man was already inside. The second man paused in the doorway.
Flap was inside. Jake stopped breathing and blinked rapidly, trying to
see in the almost nonexistent light.

If the man shouted or fired his weapon …

Then he turned for the door and merged with another shadow coming out.
Now he disappeared within.

In less than a minute Flap Le Beau came across the open ground toward
Jake’s position. He was walking calmly, with a rifle in each hand. When
he approached Jake’s position he said softly, “Come on. Let’s look at
the boat.”

T

Jake wormed his way straight ahead out of the brush, then struggled to
his feet. Flap was already at the boat dock.

Jake followed along, trying to look as nonchalant as the two guards had.

Flap got into the cabin cruiser. “The battery works,” he reported.

“Any fuel?”

“There’s a can here. Let me see.” A half minute passed.

“Well, it’s gasoline. A couple of gallons. I’m going to pour it into
the tank.”

This cabin cruiser-what if it were sabotaged? Maybe they should take
one of the little boats. Jake looked in them for oars. Each of them
had a set. They had outboard engines too, but the presence of oars
seemed to indicate that the owners of the boats weren’t brimming with
confidence over the reliability of those engines. Or maybe they were
just careful.

It was going to be a big gamble.

Jake turned his back on the cabin cruiser and stood looking at the
village. A faint glow from three or four lights showed through the
foliage.

Flap joined him on the dock. “Decision time, shipmate.

We can untie this scow and get out of here right now with a chance and
maybe a future. They won’t know this tub’s gone until morning.”

“You’re senior,” Jake told him. “You make the decision and you live
with it.”

I’m giving you a choice.”

“This is ridiculous.” They couldn’t stand here in plain sight arguing
like two New York bankers waiting for a taxL “Iead the way, Le Beau.
I’ll be right behind you.”

Flap took one of the AKs and lowered it into the water, then released
it. With the other rifle in his left hand, he turned and walked off the
dock. Jake followed him.

They circled the village through the jungle. The weapons cache was on
the side away from the sea, a hundred yards from the long pier. At
least two guards were on duty.

Flap picked a vantage point and watched for a while with Jake beside
him. The guards walked the perimeter alertly.

After the second one passed, Flap told Jake, “They’re too alert. They
know something’s up.”

“Maybe they missed that guy you killed this afternoon.”

“Maybe.”

“What if there’s someone inside the pile?”

“There is. Believe it.”

“Let’s go around to the other side and get a look before we 90 in.”

Flap led the way with Jake behind him. Jake concentrated on following
Flap, afraid that he might lose him, and let Flap worry about avoiding
the opposition.

Flap halted on a little hill halfway between the ship and the cache. The
village was directly opposite them. To get to the boat landing,
however, they would have to either pass the village or retrace the route
they had just traveled, circling both the weapons cache and the village.

“Has to be here,” Flap said. “It’s shitty, I know. But we’ll need a
side shot at the ship. From the boat landing we’re looking at her
stem.” After a bit he asked, “Think you can get here on your own if you
have to?”

“Yeah. Unless they turn off that streetlight across the way-”