Caribbean Kill Part 11

"For what, Tony?"

"Never mind for what. Just cheer her up, make her feel like it's all gonna turn out okay. It ain't, of course, but you've been lying to broads all your life so go tell some more lies."

"h.e.l.l, I don't parleyvoo her lingo," Fini replied.

"Then use sign language. But watch where you put your hands. I don't want her going into shock right now."

Fini grinned wickedly and said, Tarty p.o.o.per."

Lavagni shook his head disgustedly. "You call that a party? A pregnant cow?"

"They make the best lay," Fini told his boss. "They got everything to gain and nothin' to lose." He laughed and moved softly toward the cabin.

Lavagni watched him disappear inside, then he returned his attention to the wharf.

Hurry up Dammit, hurry up.

Lavagni lit a cigar and brooded over the situation for several minutes. Fini came back on deck and whispered, "She's okay. A little bit uptight, but okay. I think she figures Prince Charming will come riding up any time now."

T wisht he would," Quick Tony complained.

Fini chuckled and moved back to his station.

Lavagni craned his head about, spotting the other boys. Everybody was ready. Every thing Every thing was ready. Why didn't the b.a.s.t.a.r.d come on and get it over with? That kid told him eight o'clock, and here it was nearly eight thirty already. was ready. Why didn't the b.a.s.t.a.r.d come on and get it over with? That kid told him eight o'clock, and here it was nearly eight thirty already.

It was almost as bad as the wait at Gla.s.s Bay. Lavagni s.h.i.+vered, remembering the awful scene they'd had there.

Well it wasn't going to happen here. It wasn't going to- He stiffened and took a closer look along the wharf." Something was going on down there. The Manhattan doorman was moving around and people were taking off.

A chill trickled along Lavagni's spine. He turned around to whisper to Fini, "Get set, something's coming off."

Shops were closing, hastily, and the marketplace was being cleared. This was supposed to be the late-closing night. That guy had told Lavagni that those shops wouldn't close until nine o'clock. So what the h.e.l.l was... ?

The rube cop was walking along the line of fis.h.i.+ng boats now, yelling something in Spanish. Guys were jumping off onto the wharf and beating it.

Fini hoa.r.s.ely called over, "What the h.e.l.l is it, Tony?"

"I dunno," Lavagni shot back. "But if that big rube comes this far, you know what to do with 'im."

The cop spun around, though, and went back toward the middle. Evidently his only interest had been in clearing the commercial area. While Lavag-ni was pondering this, the cargo lights came on all along the wharf, brightly illuminating the entire strip.

A growl began deep in Lavagni's throat and he told Fini, "Okay, give the signal. The guy's coming, and I think maybe with help."

"You think he's got the law on his side, Tony?"

"Shut up what I think. Just give the signal."

Fini went to the flying bridge and briefly illuminated the big spot-light, then he returned tensely to his station. "Okay," he whispered.

"Cool it, now," Lavagni warned, in a voice loud enough to be heard in the immediate dock area. "Follow my lead."

And then a lone figure could be seen moving quickly along the wharf from the marketplace. The toonerville cop fell in beside him-and it was just the kid-and the two of them moved unhesitatingly, along the line of fis.h.i.+ng boats and into the public area.

Lavagni softly called out, "Watch it, now. It's going to be a razzle-dazzle, so look alive."

And then the kid and the toonerville comedian were standing there at the stern gangway. Lavagni was trying to look everywhere at once and wondering what the h.e.l.l the guy was trying to pull when the kid's voice came across, taut but well under control.

"We have come for Rosalita."

"How do you want her?" Lavagni sneered back. "By the pound or by the pint?"

The toonerville cop got into it then. "It is illegal to hold a citizen of Puerto Rico against the will. If you are holding a woman in this manner, you will surrender her at this once."

Quick Tony wanted to laugh out loud.

That f.u.c.kin' comic cop didn't even carry a gun.

He said, "Well I'll tell you what. We'll look around and see if we got a stowaway on board after we leave here. If we find one, and we just might, then we'll send her back C.O.D., in a shark's belly."

The kid stiffened and thrust his chin forward. "I bring a message for a Senor Senor Quick Tony." Quick Tony."

Lavagni's pulse leaped. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d knew who he was going against! Okay, great. That made it personal, and that made it all the sweeter. He called back, "So deliver the message."

"Senor Bolan accepts the challenge. He will fight you, in this place, at this time." Bolan accepts the challenge. He will fight you, in this place, at this time."

"So why ain't he here?" Lavagni sneered.

"He is here. He watches you at this very moment. But he will not fight while Rosalita is in the way of harm. You must release her first. Then he will fight."

Lavagni's eyes became busier. He shouted, "You gotta be kidding! I'm not falling for a routine like that!"

^y senor senor has said to tell you this. It is a Mexican stand-off. You will understand this meaning, he thinks. He says that you will not release Rosalita even if he gives himself up. He says that you will kill us all, that it is your way. Therefore, he feels that he will not be aiding Rosalita in this manner. But he desires to fight with Quick Tony. He desires this very much. Release the girl, he says, and he will bring to you the thunder and lightning you so richly deserve." has said to tell you this. It is a Mexican stand-off. You will understand this meaning, he thinks. He says that you will not release Rosalita even if he gives himself up. He says that you will kill us all, that it is your way. Therefore, he feels that he will not be aiding Rosalita in this manner. But he desires to fight with Quick Tony. He desires this very much. Release the girl, he says, and he will bring to you the thunder and lightning you so richly deserve."

Fini croaked, "That's a crock of s.h.i.+t if I ever heard it!"

The big dumb rube cop was just standing there like a b.u.mp on a log, gazing about him like a tourist on a sightseeing trip. The kid was standing there in a fighting stance, legs spread defiantly, jaw thrust forward-mad as h.e.l.l and telling it like it was, Lavagni had to figure.

"You will notice that the officer has cleared the area," the kid yelled. "It is at my senor's senor's bidding. He is ready for the fight. He says to tell you this. When you have come from behind the woman's skirts, you will also be ready for the fight. Do you receive this meaning?" bidding. He is ready for the fight. He says to tell you this. When you have come from behind the woman's skirts, you will also be ready for the fight. Do you receive this meaning?"

"Don't fall for that's.h.i.+t, Tony!" Fini urged.

But Lavagni's mind was clicking through the situation. He called over, "What if I tell your senor senor to go to h.e.l.l? What if I tell 'im we're going to have a gang bang on the p.o.o.p deck with this little knocked-up girlie, and then we're gonna run what's left of her down the anchor chain for the sharks. How's he going to feel about that?" to go to h.e.l.l? What if I tell 'im we're going to have a gang bang on the p.o.o.p deck with this little knocked-up girlie, and then we're gonna run what's left of her down the anchor chain for the sharks. How's he going to feel about that?"

"He has antic.i.p.ated such a heinous action. He says, if this threat should be carried out, he will fade away into the night, Quick Tony, and he will take his own revenge in his own way, and at his own time. This is his message, it is all, it is final. If you desire a fight, then you know the conditions."

"Awright, just a second," Lavagni replied.

He called Fini over and said, "He's right, it's a Mexican stand off."

"Yeah but if you let the broad go, then you lose our only ace."

"It's not an ace anymore, that's just the point," Lavagni said. "It's a d.a.m.n joker now. It's my fault, I messed up. I shouldVe known, Bolan won't come storming up here if he thinks the broad might get caught in his own fire."

"Do you know the guy that well, Tony?"

"I could write a book about the guy," Lavagni replied. "Also I never did figure the guy to fust walk in and give hisself up. He's not that d.a.m.n stupid."

"Well I guess we got only one play to make," Fini decided.

"That's the way I read it, Joe. We let the kid go and we take our chances on the 50-50 line. Either he'll come on in then or he won't I think he will. It's like him. I think h.e.l.l make a play for the boat. He likes that wild razzle-dazzle stuff, and I guess he's getting tired of playing it cute. I'm betting the guy is ready for a showdown."

Fini sighed. "You're the boss," he said. "For the record, I'm with you. Personally, I don't like the way this uniformed dodo is acting up, this town constable. I'm afraid he knows something we don't. He might have a whole d.a.m.n force hurrying down from San Juan or someplace, or maybe a vigilante group to back 'im up. Personally, Tony, I'm ready to either s.h.i.+t or get off the pot"

"Okay, go get the broad," Lavagni growled.

He turned back to the wharf and showed them his eyes and the top of his head and nothing else. "I'm calling your senofs senofs bluff," he announced. "And you tell 'im he better have plenty of that thunder and lightnin' to spare, because I'm gonna shove it right up his a.s.s." bluff," he announced. "And you tell 'im he better have plenty of that thunder and lightnin' to spare, because I'm gonna shove it right up his a.s.s."

"Be a.s.sured, it is no bluff," the ldd replied.

And then Fini was there with the broad and shoving her toward the gangway. She saw the kid and let out a m.u.f.fled little cry and he met her halfway and helped her to the wharf.

Another broad came running down from the market area-a real looker. She was barefooted and wore a grimy looking blouse and a short sldrt, and Lavagni thought she looked vaguely familiar, but he could not place her in his immediate memory.

The two broads hugged each other, and they were crying and carrying on. The toonerville cop had walked on to the end of the dock and was just standing there with his arms folded across his chest and watching the tearful reunion in front of the cruiser.

The p.r.i.c.k would probably take all the credit. He'd probably become a local legend, the big bad marshal without a gun who faced the fearful gangsters and took back the senorita senorita from their clutches, a regular Wyatt Earp of Puerto Rico. Lavagni was thinking that the f.u.c.kin' comedian had better get the h.e.l.l clear-that is, unless Bolan turned out to be a total d.a.m.n four-flusher. from their clutches, a regular Wyatt Earp of Puerto Rico. Lavagni was thinking that the f.u.c.kin' comedian had better get the h.e.l.l clear-that is, unless Bolan turned out to be a total d.a.m.n four-flusher.

And then Tony had another inspiration. He flourished his revolver and leaned over the railing and sighted down on Juan Escadrillo. TEIey you, kid!" he snarled. "The girl goes but you stay "

"Senor?"

"Yeah, you, with the big mouth. You hired the f.u.c.kin' G.o.ddam boat, didn't you? Awright now, you go sit on the G.o.ddam thing!" He waggled the revolver menacingly. "Go on, get aboard the scow. And well see if your great senor senor can make it over there to join you." can make it over there to join you."

The girl cried, "Juan, no!"

The other broad had some brains, though. She dragged the girl away, talking to her a mile a minute in Spanish, and the boy just stood there, and watched until they were well down the wharf, then he flashed a smile toward the cruiser and called up, "With pleasure I go to await my senor senor."

Lavagni felt like plugging the wise-a.s.s, but he let him cross over and jump aboard the salvage rig. Then Quick Tony threw back his head and shouted, "Okay Bolan! Let's hear some of that famous thunder of yours!"

The hick constable in the admiral's uniform was moving toward the protection of the salvage boat.

Not that way, dummy, Tony thought, you'd do a lot better in another direction. When Bolan comes, h.e.l.l come shooting and a'snorting. What the h.e.l.l did this guy think he was, for crissakes, a G.o.ddam referee or something?

Come on, Bolan. Come on, baby, and let me taste your a.s.s. Any way you want to show it. Try a line plunge in a car, that would be cute.

Come down the top of the warehouses-or try moving from boat to boat, like at Monte Carlo-only this time, baby, it's just you and me, Tony Lavagni and his quivering fate that's been playing hidey-seek all his life.

You, Bolan, you you are Tony Lavagnfs fate, his destiny. I owe you every fucldng thing that I am right now, and I owe you everything that I'm going to become, a are Tony Lavagnfs fate, his destiny. I owe you every fucldng thing that I am right now, and I owe you everything that I'm going to become, a Capo Capo you dumb s.h.i.+t, that's what you've made me. Well come on, come on. What the h.e.l.l are you waiting for? you dumb s.h.i.+t, that's what you've made me. Well come on, come on. What the h.e.l.l are you waiting for?

"Let's hear some thunder, Bolan!" he screamed.

From the corner of his eye he saw the big hick down on the wharf lighting a cigarette, and Tony thought what a h.e.l.l of a thing to be doing at a time like this-was it some kind of signal? Then the guy was putting the pack of cigarettes back inside his coat, and his hand came out moving fast-oh h.e.l.l much too d.a.m.n fast-and something long and bulky was flying toward the cruiser.

For one awful and timeless instant that thing hung there in the cargo light of the warehouse, suspended in Tony's vision and in the air above the cruiser, and in that final micro-second of understanding, Quick Tony recognized that thing for what it was. It was a bundle of r r dynamite sticks, tied together with a cl.u.s.ter of blasting caps. dynamite sticks, tied together with a cl.u.s.ter of blasting caps.

And then time moved on, and the thunder descended, and the last impression to find registration in Lavagnfs horrified eyes was that big dumb hick comic constable sprinting gracefully across the end of the wharf, a big black blaster filling one hand and spitting destruction into the roof of the warehouse.

It had been no more than a fifty-fifty chance, and Quick Tony had won his bet, the guy had shown up, he'd been there all the time, and Quick Tony had met his fate at last.

And as he was lifted into that weightless midst of thunder and lightning, Quick Tony knew that he could thank Mack Bolan for everything he would never become.

Chapter Twelve.

THE DEAL.

The impact bomb had come in at dead center, instantly disintegrating the superstructure and lifting the entire cruiser out of the water. Her restraining lines lines were ruptured and the once-flashy speedster resettled at a crazy angle and drifted slowly into the channel, ablaze from stem to stern. were ruptured and the once-flashy speedster resettled at a crazy angle and drifted slowly into the channel, ablaze from stem to stern.

Nothing could have remained alive in that flaming wreckage. Bolan's attention had instantly swerved to the threats from other quarters, and the trusty Beretta had dispatched two gunners from the roof of the warehouse and another who had come running along the wharf.

And then he was aboard the old salvage boat and helping Juan cast off the stern lines. The ancient rig was made of stronger stuff than the Gla.s.s Bay cruiser. She had absorbed the blast shock with hardly a quiver and rode out the resultant minor tidal wave like a true queen of the seas.

Juan told Bolan, "The engine is turning. The moment I step aboard, I instruct the captain to make ready."

That was not all Juan had done the moment he stepped aboard. Sprawled out beneath the gangway was a guy in Gla.s.s Bay uniform, a gun in his clenched fist, the eyes wide and staring in surprise and fixed that way in death. Buried in his chest to the hilt was a heavy knife. The gun was a Beretta Brigadier, same model as Bolan's.

Bolan took the Beretta and shook several spare clips from the dead man's waistband, then he picked up the body and heaved it over the side.

There was a lot of running around and yelling farther up the pier, but no one seemed ready to venture down for a closer look.

The boat was heading into the channel. A guy with a big handlebar mustache and a very worried face thrust his head out of the cabin and yelled something aft in very rapid Spanish.

Juan looked up with a grimace and called back, "Gracias, Capitain. Vamos ustedes, con todo velo-cidadF He reported to Bolan, "He says the bow lines are clear and we are underway. I tell him to get the h.e.l.l out of here."

Quickly, Bolan said, "Ask him if we can hook onto that pile of junk and haul it clear before the whole port is in flames."

Juan nodded and hurried forward.

Bolan remained aft to guard their rear, but no further hostile actions seemed impending-and soon he was a.s.sisting the three-man crew and Juan in the delicate business of grappling and towing a flaming marine disaster out to sea. They left the burning hulk wallowing in its own ashes a mile offsh.o.r.e.

They headed west then, Bolan instructing the skipper to remain within sight of sh.o.r.e. "Alert me immediately," he requested, "if any other vessels seem to be closing on us or crossing our course."

The captain signaled his understanding. Bolan and Juan went into the main cabin-a low-headroom affair with four bunks, a small galley, mess table, and various rough conveniences.