Mercenary (37 page)

As Victor watched Stratton sail on he suspected what he meant to do. The Frenchman saw the riders appear around the trees and gauged where they would all intersect. He also knew what he had to do.

The grim reality of their plight came home with a bang, literally, as a burst of machine-gun fire caught one of the young rebels and he fell dead. The group pressed on. A mortar shell landed close by, followed by another, and shrapnel flew among them. Kebowa was struck in his side by a piece. It caused him to stumble but he regained his balance and pressed on, blood pouring from the wound.

Another burst of machine-gun fire found its mark again, one of the rebels dropping and rolling to a stop.

‘Down!’ David shouted and the group dived to the ground to return fire.

Another mortar shell landed nearby and David knew they had to move on or die. He got back to his feet. ‘Fire and move!’ he shouted to the others. ‘Fire and move!’

He ran several metres, dropped to the ground and fired at the enemy. ‘Move!’ he shouted.

Several of the others scrambled to their feet and ran on a few metres before dropping to the ground to open fire. As the rest of the group caught on they began to repeat the tactic.

 

The riders arrived at the cliff and raced along its edge. Stratton pulled his gun strap over his head, brought the weapon against his shoulder and fired several shots at them. David and the others also engaged the horsemen.

Steel had been concentrating on the cliff edge when the first rounds struck the group and unhorsed an officer ahead of him. The man hit the ground and tumbled off the edge, screaming.

Steel brought his horse to a sliding stop, as did the others, and he dismounted to hug the dirt. The horses scattered, leaving their riders.

Only then did Steel notice the parachute.

Stratton fired several more shots until he ran out of ammunition. He dropped the rifle to the ground and grabbed the chute’s toggles. The edge of the cliff was coming up fast and he still had not seen Louisa.

Steel lay in the grass holding his pistol, transfixed by the sight of the parachute. A grin spread across his face. ‘Does that guy ever give up? Jesus!’

Stratton found Louisa struggling with one of the rope bundles, pulling the line over the edge. Elation coursed through him once more when he saw her. ‘Louisa!’ he cried. But she was still too far away and too distracted to hear him.

Steel tried to line up Stratton in the sights of his pistol and, despite the ridiculous distance, fired a couple of shots, knowing very well that they would be in vain. He assumed the Englishman was headed for the cliff and safety and followed his track, wondering if he might risk intercepting him. Then he saw Louisa on the edge of the cliff, pulling at a line of rope.

‘There!’ Steel called out to Ventura and the officers around him. ‘Shoot them!’

They followed his order and opened up on Louisa as well as Stratton.

Bullets snapped past Louisa and slammed into the pile of rope. She dropped to the ground and scrambled behind the bundle as more rounds hit it.

Victor saw Louisa and the government officers shooting at her. He was suddenly overcome with such anger that he abandoned any more fire-and-fall defensive moves and charged as he fired, racing ahead of the others and bellowing with rage.

The Indians followed, arrows in their bows. David and the remaining rebels joined the charge.

Kebowa stopped long enough to loose an arrow that struck an officer who was reloading his rifle in the back. But the officer beside him turned swiftly and shot Kebowa through the heart.

A shell landed among the rebels, a piece of shrapnel severing Yoinakuwa’s hand.Victor saw his friend fall and went to his aid as the old Indian lay on his side in agony.

Mohesiwa released a torrent of arrows in revenge, one of them striking Ventura through the top of his shoulder as he lay, prone, penetrating deep into his chest cavity. Yoinakuwa watched Mohesiwa fall after several government bullets found their mark, killing him as he drew back his final arrow.

Victor dropped to the ground to fire some shots and to look around to assess their situation. There was only a handful of them left. His gaze fell on several of the officers’ horses wandering nearby, confused by the explosions and gunfire surrounding them.

Stratton drew closer to Louisa by the second. His loosely drawn-up plan had been to land beside her and take things from there. But now that they were in the middle of a battle he had only one option left.

‘Louisa!’ he shouted.

She looked up at the sound of her name and froze, wide-eyed and stunned. It was
him
. At the last possible moment he had come for her. And in a way she could not have dreamed of.

A bullet struck close by, snapping Louisa out of her trance, and she dropped to the ground but stayed looking at Stratton. With him there was hope. Always.

Stratton pulled down gently on the chute’s toggles to lose some height and steered directly towards her.

Steel fired a couple of shots from his pistol, more out of frustration than anything else. ‘Christ, can’t any of you guys shoot!’ he shouted, glancing at Ventura to find him staring at him, his mouth open and his tongue hanging out. The orange fletching of an arrow protruded from his shoulder, the long, slender green tail feather of the quetzal bird attached to the nock by a line of gut.

The rebels’ numbers had lessened and they were hugging the ground although they were still shooting. Steel scrambled forward, taking pot shots at them, and broke into a crouching run along the cliff edge towards Louisa.

Stratton was close enough to see the expression on her face. He released a toggle to reach down as low as he could.

Louisa had not thought about his intentions for a moment until then. Too much had been happening. But as she saw his outstretched hand it struck her what he planned to do. She glanced back at the edge of the cliff a few metres behind her, then back at him as he bore down on her. There was no time to worry about the madness of it.

‘Take my hand!’ Stratton shouted.

He was confident that he could hold her. He would grip her like a vice, drag her up to him and hold her tightly in his arms as they sailed over the edge. And he would not let go until they touched down far below.

Louisa focused on the hand, her heart filled with fear. But there was no time to consider the consequences. She would hold on to his hand with all her strength and he would hold her with all of his and never let go. He was Stratton and she would live.

She stood up from behind the rope bundle and reached up to him.

Victor was running with Yoinakuwa and glanced towards Louisa. For a second he saw the image: Stratton sailing towards her and reaching down, Louisa standing and reaching up. A bullet ripped open Victor’s shoulder, splashing his face in blood, and he ran on as hard as he could towards the horses.

The distance between the two outstretched hands shrank by the second. As they touched fingertips the wind coming up the side of the cliff caught the leading edge of Stratton’s chute and the invisible wall of air lifted it. Their hands failed to grasp each other and he sailed over her and the world opened up beneath him.

Stratton could not believe it. It was not possible. He yelled in frustration. He had failed Louisa at the last second.

He twisted violently in his harness, pulling down hard on the toggle to look back at her. The wind continued to raise him up and as his chute made a tight turn he realised it was not yet over. He had another hand to play as he faced Louisa once again and headed back towards her at speed.

This time as Stratton reached the edge he pulled hard on the toggles to shut down the chute’s cells. His feet hit the ground and the chute collapsed around them.

Louisa threw herself into his arms and he wrapped them tightly around her. For a fraction of a second there was nothing else in the world but them.

But that was long enough. Stratton looked quickly over his shoulder to see Steel running at them.

Steel aimed his pistol, his malevolent stare fixed on Stratton. He was about to pull the trigger when he suddenly noticed the ground disappear in front of him and stumbled to a halt as he reached the edge of the chine that cut across his path. He almost toppled into the abyss but managed to regain his balance and take a step back.

Stratton’s hand reached for his pistol, but the holster was empty.

Louisa turned her head to look at Steel.

Now he was within easy range and, breathing heavily, he levelled his pistol at them.

Stratton wrapped his arms tightly around Louisa, gritted his teeth and dropped backwards off the cliff.

Steel fired quickly several times before they disappeared over the edge. He could not believe his eyes as he moved to the cliff to look down.

The chute flapped furiously around the couple as they plummeted.

Steel smirked. He had won. Stratton was dead. Then his smile vanished and his mouth dropped open in utter disbelief.

The chute popped open with a flourish, forming into its rectangular shape, the red fire-breathing dragon snarling up at him. It soared away from the cliff and glided majestically above the river below.

Victor gazed into the glowing embers of the fire and breathed out heavily. Yoinakuwa sat on the floor, his back against the fireplace, staring at nothing.

The FBI man, Harris, sat back in his chair, watching Victor.

His assistant, Jacobs, leant forward, elbows on his knees like a kid full of expectation.

Victor remained silent.

Jacobs glanced at Harris, wondering why Victor had stopped. He wanted Harris to ask Victor a question but his boss seemed lost in his own thoughts.

Jacobs could not stand the suspense any longer. ‘Well, what happened then?’

Victor shrugged. ‘We made it to the horses. Only three of us escaped. David, Yoinakuwa and myself. The women and children, those who survived, were handed over to Hector’s brigade. Besides us, not a single rebel fighter lived through that day. Hector never took full command as planned. He died a few months later. He was found hanging by his neck in his cabin. Some say his death was by his own hand. Some say he was murdered in revenge for Sebastian’s betrayal.’

Jacobs was still frustrated. ‘Louisa and Stratton?’ he asked. ‘What happened to them?’

‘America, I think. I have never seen or spoken to either of them since that day. Her political ambitions had been formed on the campuses of Boston and Cambridge but they could not stand the test of the realities of this country. I think of them as living happily ever after, somewhere.’ Victor emptied the contents of his mug and went quiet again, lost in his thoughts.

Harris stirred and put his notebook into his pack. He took a deep breath and got to his feet, studying Victor. He seemed to be about to ask a question but changed his mind.

He walked to the door, opened it and left the cabin.

Jacobs watched him leave and looked back at Victor. He wanted to hear more but decided against asking anything else. He got to his feet, nodded a thanks to both men, neither of whom were looking at him, and went outside.

Harris stepped off the porch and stood on the damp earth, looking up at the cloudy sky with patches of blue breaking through. Water dripped off the porch and the leaves on the trees. The air outside was refreshing after the damp room and cigar smoke.

‘What do you think?’ Jacobs asked.

Harris glanced at his assistant. ‘I think it was Victor’s story, more than it was Stratton’s . . . or Louisa’s.’

‘You don’t believe him?’

Harris looked undecided. ‘It was a good story. It’s the end that wasn’t true.’

‘What do you mean?’ Jacobs asked, anxious to know.

‘What end?’

‘She died. That’s pretty obvious.’

‘How do you know that?’ Jacobs asked. A part of him didn’t want to hear it but another part had to.

‘That’s why Stratton killed Steel, of course. It’s the only reason he would have. He wouldn’t have done it if they were together. And she would’ve come back, don’t you think? She didn’t sound the type to give up easily.’

‘Why did Victor lie?’

‘To protect Stratton.’

Jacobs considered the explanation. Despite his feelings, his wish for a happy ending, it made sense. ‘What will happen to Stratton?’

‘Steel acted outside his parameters. He broke US law as it applies to an overseas intelligence officer, for one thing. The CIA would be too embarrassed to acknowledge him. Stratton can’t be charged with murdering someone who didn’t exist.’

Jacobs looked back towards the cabin door. ‘Maybe Victor doesn’t know that Louisa died. Not if he never heard from them again. It’s possible.’

‘He knows.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Look at the porch canopy.’

Jacobs looked up at the canopy flapping in the wind and his mouth opened in astonished realisation. The fabric was bright green, with a red fire-breathing dragon emblazoned on it. Stratton’s parachute.

Harris shouldered his pack. ‘Come on, Jacobs. We’ve got a long way to go,’ he said, walking away. ‘Goddamned waste of time, if you ask me.’

Jacobs grew sad as Victor’s description of the couple’s fall off the cliff came to life in his mind. As he stared at the parachute, flapping in the breeze, it suddenly went taut and the cells filled with the air flowing through them.

 

Stratton hung beneath the shadow of the canopy with Louisa in his arms. He held her tightly, as he had promised himself he would. Her head rested against him, her rich black hair flowing around them.

To begin with, her arms were tightly about him but then they began to lose their grip. Eventually they let go completely and hung loosely by her sides.

The ground grew ever closer and Stratton held Louisa firmly with one arm as he pulled down both toggles with the other. He stalled the fabric and touched down lightly, unclipping the risers from his shoulders to disconnect the chute, which floated away to roll onto the river bank.