The Five Arrows Part 63

"What's all the noise?" Fourth Floor again.

"Parade."

"What are you doing there?" No suspicion--just conversation. Anyone could see Fourth Floor only meant conversation. Anyone but Rivas. To a man, the four behind Rivas prayed he would stall off the man above him with a polite nothing.

"None of your business, you fascist pig!"

Over and above all the noises of the city, of the band on the corner, of the hearts thumping in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the four men in the room there fell a whining silence which was both hours long and seconds short. Then the silence was shattered by the crashing explosions of two heavy pistols.

"Let me." Rafael ran to the doorway, flattened out against the wall. His eyes took in the p.r.o.ne body of Rivas at the landing and the heap of man sprawled on the stairs. Rivas was dead. His gun lay near his head. The man on the stairs still held onto his gun. Rafael reached behind him for the silent weapon, the weapon you used on lone forays into enemy territory, on guards in concentration camps.

The knife flashed over his head, pinned the hand with the pistol to the wooden stairs. Behind the knife flew Rafael. Once again the blade was raised, this time with a hand still on it as it descended.

Eduardo pulled Hall's sleeve. "Quick," he said. "The stairs. Follow me."

"All right," Rafael said to the dead Rivas, "now you're a Republican."

The watch on Santiago's wrist read 11.29 when Rafael, the last man to leave, melted into the crowd around the band. People on the sidewalk could hear feet pounding heavily through the large empty rooms of the Emba.s.sy. Lights were going on in all the dark windows. Yells. A woman's scream.

At the head of the parade, a baton twirled. The uniforms started to move forward. The crowd on the sidelines followed the band.

Later, sitting in Lobo's office, the ma.s.s of doc.u.ments from the shirts of Santiago and Eduardo and Rafael on the desk before the general, Hall remembered his outcry when he found the picture of Ansaldo and the Axis officers giving the fascist salute. My "got it!" got poor Rivas, he thought. I'm still an amateur at it. Santiago was good; found dynamite, but he kept his mouth shut. Eduardo was good; cracked the locks and kept his mouth shut. Rafael was good; finished off the b.a.s.t.a.r.d from the Fourth Floor in seconds, and remembered to use a knife, and kept his mouth shut until it was all over. Funny the way he stood over what remained of Rivas and said, "All right, now you're a Republican."

Mocking, yet respectful. It was good; no forgiveness for the dead man's treachery but respect for his insane courage.

"It was a nice band concert, yes?" Lobo said. "Plenty of bim bam boom in the drums. Tsing! Tsing! Cymbals. Tarantara, tarantara."

"Sure."

"I'm a one-man band, eh, keed?"

"Colossal."

"What's eating you, Matt? That little slob who killed himself with his big mouth?"

"It was my fault, Jaime. It was my big mouth."

The General picked up a fistful of the doc.u.ments which had cost the life of Fernando Rivas. "What the h.e.l.l is his life worth compared to the lives of the hundreds of American seamen who now won't be sent to the bottom by n.a.z.i torpedoes in the South Atlantic? I'll say it again, Matt, and if you'd stick around long enough, I could prove it. By tomorrow morning I'll have at least twenty mucking b.a.s.t.a.r.ds in the calabozo thanks to what's in these papers; twenty fascist snakes who are the eyes and the ears and the oil and the water of the n.a.z.i subs in this part of the ocean. You did it--and at the cost of only one second-rate life.

Isn't it worth it?"

Hall was going through the doc.u.ments on the desk. Bombsh.e.l.ls, most of them.

_Mandato # 36: 1940. From: Inspector-General Delegacion Nacional, del Servicio Exterior, de Falange Espanola Tradicionalista de las J.O.N.S. To: Jefe Supremo, Falange de San Hermano._ In Re: A.T.N. Effective immediately you will form Accion Tradicionalista Nacional, to replace organization of Falange ordered dissolved by the Jew-Communist betrayer, Tabio.

You will replace Yoke and Arrows with new symbol of Cross and Sword. Until further orders, you will not enter Spanish Emba.s.sy or consulates. _Camarada_ Portada will arrive with detailed orders within thirty days. _Saluda a_ Franco! _Arriba_ Espana!

_Mandato # 74: 1941, Servicio Exterior. Confidential_: Enrique Gamburdo entered Tabio government with permission and approval of the National Delegation of the Falange. _Camarada_ Gamburdo is to be given the support and unquestioning loyalty due an Old Shirt. There will be no exceptions to this order.

Signed ...

_Orden # 107: 1941. Confidential_: Our heroic j.a.panese Allies have today destroyed the Jew-Protestant-Marxist American fleet in Honolulu. _Camaradas_ of the Cross and Sword must be prepared to defend the wise peace policies of _Camarada_ Gamburdo against the Jewish war mongers who will now try to make the Kahal the government in San Hermano. El Caudillo has shown how the Motherland can frustrate the war mongers. Do not falter and delay the glorious hour of our final victory.

_Camarada_ Marcelino Ga.s.sau will soon arrive in San Hermano with instructions on how to help the victory. Signed ...

"Photograph these, will you, Jaime?"

Lobo was sorting out the doc.u.ments in rough piles. Sabotage. Espionage.

Undersea warfare. Guantanamo. Cuban politics. "The works," he grinned.

"In a week, this haul will have crammed our prisons with fascist rats.

If we didn't have to avoid treading on the toes of your State Department these doc.u.ments would be enough to put the Spanish Amba.s.sador in the calabozo and bring about a break with Franco. But even if it happens, you won't be around to see it, Matt. You're leaving in exactly four hours."

"Four hours?"

"Just a minute. That's my private phone. Yes, General Lobo speaking." He put his hand over the mouthpiece. "Pick up the other phone. It's the Spanish Amba.s.sador."

"O.K."

"Yes, Mr. Amba.s.sador?"

"General! Something terrible has happened."

"Terrible?"

"There's been a murder in the Emba.s.sy. Someone broke into the Emba.s.sy and shot one of our attaches. Communists, I think."

"Is he dead? When did this all happen?"

"Five minutes ago."

Hall and Lobo looked at the wall clock. The hands showed ten minutes after one.

"Five minutes or hours, Mr. Amba.s.sador?"

"Minutes, General. It just happened."

"Where did it happen?"

"On the stairs. The back stairs, between the third and fourth floors. It is terrible."

"Who is the man?"

"Elicio Portada, General Lobo. Poor Portada!"

"Just a minute." He put his hand over the mouthpiece. "Listen to those lies, will you? Only one body. Three hours to dispose of the Rivas carca.s.s and search the files. Did you leave them in much of a mess, Matt?"

"I don't remember."

"It doesn't matter." The hand came away from the phone. "h.e.l.lo. Yes, this is still General Lobo. Mr. Amba.s.sador, I have very serious news for you. As the representative of a friendly neutral, I am sure we can count on your co-operation."

"What is it, General?"