Mercenary Part 20

Stratton listened to her rummaging through some boxes.

'Victor looked disturbed tonight,' she said.

'He seems to have a lot on his mind.'

'Did he tell you?'

'No.'

'He's having a private talk with my father, just the two of them. That's unusual for him. The ambush has changed him - made him more daring, perhaps.'

The sounds of Louisa searching through the boxes ceased and Stratton waited for the sound of her boots on the floor as she came back. But there was nothing other than the crackling noise of the fire. He heard a soft sound close by and remained still, wondering what she was doing.

He looked down to see her bare foot dipping into the water.The other followed and she lowered her naked body into the tub behind him, stretching her legs out either side of him. She held his lower back tightly between her thighs.

Gently, she took hold of his shoulders and guided him until his back was resting against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She placed a hand on his forehead and pressed his head back until it was nestling on her shoulder. Then she laid her cheek against his.

'That was pretty sneaky,' Stratton said.

'It's called strategy. It's not just used in war, you know. I was told that you can use it in anything. Even love.'

'That's a wise teacher you have there.'

'Well, he knows his stuff on the battlefield. I don't know what else he might be good at, though.'

It was the most delicious gauntlet that had ever been thrown down before him, Stratton thought.

'There's something I have to ask you,' Louisa said.

'What?'

'Did your grandmother really want to be a Gurkha?' she smiled.

'No. Of course not. Not after three years in the Foreign Legion.'

'Idiot.'

'I don't blame her, really.'

'Stop it,' she laughed.

They lay in silence, bathed in the orange glow from the fire, both of them staring at it and lost in their thoughts.

Finally Louisa spoke. 'Let's not talk about anything beyond this moment. No futures. No dreams.'

'I can't control my thoughts,' Stratton said.

She kissed his cheek. 'Maybe I I can, for a little while.' He turned his head to look into her eyes and their lips met softly. He reached an arm behind her waist and lifted her around to sit on him. Their kisses grew more pa.s.sionate, more urgent. can, for a little while.' He turned his head to look into her eyes and their lips met softly. He reached an arm behind her waist and lifted her around to sit on him. Their kisses grew more pa.s.sionate, more urgent.

The entrance to Hector's camp looked more threaten - ing than Sebastian's. A tree-trunk wall filled the long gap between two rocky outcrops. It had an immense gate in the middle with a smaller entrance to one side. As Victor approached, looking as haggard as his horse, he saw two earth-and-sandbag machine-gun emplacements, with others on top of the rocky hillocks. Half a dozen heavily armed guards stood outside. One of them recognised Victor and sent a runner to deliver his message to Hector.

He climbed down and tried to ease his aching back and hips. He had never ridden a horse before joining the rebellion and after his first ride he'd realised that his body had long since grown inflexible and would never adapt to sitting astride anything so wide for long periods of time. He had barely recovered from the ride to and from the ambush and within a few minutes of his journey to Hector's camp all the same aches and pains had returned twofold.

Victor waited for half an hour before someone arrived to escort him inside. He had never been to Hector's encampment before. The five rebel fortresses were spread in a wide semicircle over several interconnected plateaus, the strategic intention being that they could support each other if they were attacked by Neravistas.

The layout of the camp was difficult to make out in the darkness but it seemed better designed to withstand attack than Sebastian's. Now that Victor was inside the perimeter he felt nervous and uncomfortable. The rebels he pa.s.sed seemed to eye him suspiciously and not just because he was an outsider. Their looks felt almost accusatory. Victor wondered if Sebastian was right and that he had developed an overactive imagination that verged on paranoia.

The guide showed him to a large cabin, bigger than Sebastian's original quarters. He tied off his horse and looked around him. A group of armed men were gathered around a table illuminated by hurricane lamps. They watched him silently, their guns within easy reach. He was tempted to wave but decided against it. They looked a surly crew.

The guide pointed Victor towards the front door of the cabin but did not go near it himself. Victor felt a sudden chill, not in the air but more like a warning from his heart. He told himself to calm down as he removed his hat, marched to the door and opened it.

Hector sat alone inside the comfortably furnished room, reading a doc.u.ment by the light from an elegant candelabrum. A small fire was burning in the grate.

He glanced at Victor before going back to his doc.u.ment. 'I thought they were mistaken when they told me you were here. Somehow I don't believe Sebastian sent you.'

'He did not.'

'Of course. Why would he?' Hector said sarcastically. 'I don't even understand what you're doing in this revolution, never mind second in command to a brigade. If there was ever an example of Sebastian's poor judgement it's you.'

Victor clenched his jaw and absorbed the abuse. 'I know you're angry with me, Hector. Perhaps you have every reason to be. I-'

'What are you doing here?' Hector interrupted rudely. 'I threatened your life the other day, yet here you are, alone in my camp.' He made a sudden pantomime of looking around. 'Maybe you have your Indians hidden somewhere,' he said, his sarcasm undiminished. 'Or perhaps you're feeling heroic after blowing up Chemora.'

Victor began to wonder if coming to the camp had been such a good idea. The man was already acting aggressively and Victor had not even said his piece. But he had come all this way and was not going to leave without telling Hector why. 'I came to see you, Hector, because I'm afraid for the future of this struggle. I'm concerned that the reasons we started it have been lost. And I'm afraid for Sebastian.'

Hector chuckled. 'You're afraid for Sebastian? That's ridiculous. This revolution isn't about any one person. We're all expendable.'

'I think it would be a mistake to allow something to happen to him. He's still a great symbol to the people.'

'Why are you coming to me? Why not any of the other council members?'

'You are their voice.'

'I am a voice of reason that they agree with.'

'Someone tried to kill Sebastian.'

'Oh, so you think I had something to do with it?'

'I did not say that.'

'I have no control over those who did.'

'Then you know who they are.'

'Don't try and get smart with me,' Hector warned him.

Victor took heed and moderated his tone. 'This bad blood between you and Sebastian - perhaps it's sending the wrong message to some people. Maybe someone tried to get rid of Sebastian because they thought it's what you wanted.'

'You are amazing,Victor.You stand here in my house with your innuendos and ridiculous requests as if you were an equal or even someone of importance. I'm not interested in you or your opinions or anything else you have to say. Did you seriously think when you were daydreaming about coming here that I would put my arm around you and say, "Sure, Victor, let's find a way to all live together, you're a great guy, Victor"? You have no importance to me or to anyone, actually, and that includes Sebastian.'

Desperation began to gnaw at Victor. His planned dialogue was falling apart at the seams. He had believed that being Sebastian's number two might count for something outside of his own commander's cabin but Hector's ridicule was battering his self-confidence. He became fl.u.s.tered and started to lose the thread of his argument. All that was left was a suspicion he had developed about the attempt on Sebastian's life and, perhaps in desperation to be taken seriously, he could not help but blurt it out. 'I don't think it was a coincidence that the bomb in Sebastian's house detonated when it was known that Louisa would be out of the camp for several days.'

Hector stared at him with narrowed eyes. 'You go too far with your suggestions.'

Victor's blood was now up. Louisa was Hector's one obvious weakness and he decided to go for it. 'It's you who've gone too far,' he said. 'You've lost her heart to another because of your actions.'

Hector got to his feet, his face reddening. 'That is a personal insult. I should kill you where you stand but I will still observe a visitor's right - even yours - to safety.'

'She's no longer yours - if she ever was.'

Hector stared at him, his teeth bared. 'Who is he?'

'It doesn't matter, other than he shares Louisa's political convictions. But doesn't it even hint to you that you're wrong?'

'Get out of here,' Hector said, drawing his machete. 'One more word and I will will kill you where you stand. I don't ever want to see your face again! Go!' kill you where you stand. I don't ever want to see your face again! Go!'

Victor stepped back at the vehemence in the other man's words, turned for the door and left the cabin.

He put on his hat as he marched to his horse and climbed onto it. He rode away looking back over his shoulder, uneasy that the threat to his life had not gone.

Hector stepped outside to see the Frenchman disappear into the darkness. He put his machete back in its sheath as he looked over at the group of men, focusing on one in particular. It was the one who had delivered the message to Louisa at the stables. The man responded to Hector's gesture of summons and hurried to his master. After a few brief words he walked away, at the same time alerting subordinates of his own who quickly followed him.

Hector went back inside his cabin and closed the door. Victor's words about Louisa had wounded him. He walked over to an ornately carved dresser, pulled open a drawer and removed something wrapped in a scarf. He smelled the material and even though the perfume that had once pervaded it was long gone the smell of the scarf itself prompted memories of her. He removed it to reveal the frame with Louisa's picture in it that he had stolen from Sebastian's house all those years ago. His jaw tightened as he studied her eyes, her slight smile and elegant poise. Over the years he had made it his picture. It was him she was looking at, even though she had not known him when it was taken. Something snapped inside of him at the thought of her heart going to another and he threw the frame and scarf into the fireplace.

Unable to watch the flames distort and burn her face into oblivion he turned his back on it and stepped through a door in the far wall into a smoke-filled room where Steel and Ventura were enjoying cigars and brandy.

They watched Hector as he poured himself a drink and downed it in one.

Ventura gave Steel a sideways glance and a knowing smile. 'Hector? If you don't mind. The way I see it now, you have two choices. You either remove Sebastian yourself, and soon, or you allow us to.'

'I told you I would take care of it,' Hector replied softly.

'Can I remind you,' Ventura continued, 'that there have been two significant occurrences since we last met that have greatly influenced current events. One, Chemora was killed by Sebastian. Two, an attempt on Sebastian's life failed.'

'Gentlemen,' Steel interjected diplomatically. 'If I may add a little flavour to this stew that you guys are cooking. My people are pleased with the peace proposals as presented by Neravista and agreed to by you, Hector.'

'There is no agreement yet.' Hector corrected him in a tone that suggested he had said it a thousand times.

'Okay,' Steel acknowledged. 'A proposal that provides the foundations on which you and Neravista could possibly build an understanding.'

Hector shrugged to confirm that he considered the statement close enough.

'A speedy and sustainable end to the conflict is all that we - as in "my people" - are concerned with at the moment,' Steel added.

'Sebastian's death could seriously upset this strategy, at least for some months,' Hector warned.

'Then why did you try to kill him?' Ventura asked.

'I didn't,' Hector insisted, looking at Steel.

Steel drew on his cigar before realising that both men were looking at him. 'Why're you lookin' at me?' he asked, unable to suppress a grin.

'I know that one of Julio's men planted the bomb,' Hector said. 'What did you promise him?'

Steel blew out smoke and shrugged, knowing when he was cornered. But it was no big deal to him. 'A US pa.s.sport. But not to kill Sebastian. He arranged the b.o.o.by trap in the weapons cache and was supposed to maintain the confusion.'

Hector shook his head in disappointment.

'It was Julio's idea,' Steel added.

'Julio has never had an idea of his own in his life,' Hector said accusingly.

'It sounds like Victor thinks it was you,' Steel said, sounding amused.

'Don't worry about Victor. He won't be telling anyone any of his suspicions after tonight,' Hector said.

The news did not faze the other two men.

'I appreciate the personal difficulties you might have in sanctioning Sebastian's death,' Ventura offered. 'Which is why I think it would be best if you did not have that burden.'

'You think that makes it any easier for me, letting you do it?'

'I am right, though, aren't I?' Ventura said, looking at Steel as if he were speaking to him. 'I don't believe the peace negotiations will be jeopardised by Sebastian's death. On the contrary. I believe it will speed the process.'

Hector took a sword from the wall and weighed it in his hand. 'They would not be jeopardised by your absence either, Ventura.'

Ventura gave him a piercing look, angered more by Hector's insolence than the physical threat.

'Gentlemen,' Steel said soothingly. 'We're allowing our emotions to run a little high. I agree with Hector that we must be sure about the effect any mishap that might befall Sebastian could have on the people. I also agree with him that the decision on how to proceed in that matter should come from the revolutionaries themselves. Surely they are best placed to decide on that subject and they are also the best people to absorb the repercussions. But, Hector, I must agree with Ventura that you are perhaps too emotionally involved to make the best judgement call here. You do see that, don't you?'

Hector's silence seemed to indicate that he agreed, in principle at any rate.

'Well,' Steel announced, getting up from his seat and finis.h.i.+ng off his brandy. 'I've gotta go.'

Ventura too got to his feet, placed his unfinished gla.s.s on the table and stubbed out his cigar. 'Me, too,' he agreed.

'Why don't you think about it, Hector?' Steel suggested. 'This is the perfect time to strike. Neravista is mighty p.i.s.sed about losing his brother. You push your demands, back them up with an a.s.surance that you'll take care of the man who killed Chemora and you just might get a good piece of what you want.'

Hector glanced at him. It was something that he had not considered.

'Thanks for your hospitality,' Steel said as he strode out of the room, followed by Ventura.