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 passport. But not to kill Sebastian. He arranged the booby 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 finishing off his brandy. ‘I’ve gotta go.’
Ventura too got to his feet, placed his unfinished glass 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 pissed about losing his brother. You push your demands, back them up with an assurance 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.
The two men left the cabin and walked into the night towards the main camp, its fires burning in the distance.
‘That was clever,’ Ventura said. ‘I hope Hector is intelligent enough to see it.
‘Was it? It is an issue, though. How to get rid of a legend without the legend biting you in the ass at the same time.’
‘Have the legend die at the hands of someone he trusts - or make it look like that, at least.’
Steel drew on his cigar. ‘You mean Julio?’
‘No. He’s unreliable. What if Sebastian was killed by outsiders?’ Ventura suggested.
‘What would their purpose be?’
‘What’s yours?’
Steel smiled, glancing at Ventura. ‘You mean, if the Americans were to be accused?’
‘Why not? You have to pay a price at some time. Playing one side off against the other has not produced the results you wanted. You have big shoulders.’
Steel contemplated the idea. ‘I would have to cover my own ass. I don’t mind Uncle Sam getting the blame but I don’t want to make it look personal.’
‘Of course. What about the Englishman?’
Steel nodded. ‘That’s a possibility . . . You’re a natural at this, Ventura. I’m going to have to watch you.’
Ventura was pleased by the flattery. ‘How would we go about it?’
‘It wouldn’t be difficult. We don’t have to alter our plans any.’
‘There is one other issue,’ Ventura said, looking a little uncomfortable.
‘What’s that?’
‘The Nerugan gold mines. I saw the licensing proposal. How much of that syndicate do you control?’
Steel came to a stop and faced the government official. ‘Are you ready to take the pebble?’ he asked, holding out his hand, a threatening look in his eye.
Ventura looked into the open palm that had nothing in it. ‘It wasn’t a challenge,’ he said, aware how dangerous Steel could be.
Steel closed his hand on the invisible stone. ‘Good. Your battalion is on the highway, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s ready to move in on your command?’
‘Yes.’
‘This is now all about neutralising Sebastian’s brigade and there’s only one way you’re gonna do it. You have to move between Hector’s and Sebastian’s encampments. Hector won’t touch your back. He’s got too much to lose. If he countered your attack it would only push him further from his dream of becoming a revolutionary leader. I’ll make sure he knows that.’
Ventura nodded in agreement. ‘We could begin to move into position during daylight tomorrow. Preparations could be complete by nightfall. We could attack the following morning.’
‘Sounds perfect to me, my friend. It’ll be over in a couple hours. Especiallly with those helicopters we gave you.’
‘So what’s the final story concerning Sebastian?’ Ventura asked. ‘How will the people eventually see it?’
‘They’ll see what they’re given. The revolutionary council brokered a deal with the government but Sebastian stood in its way. Sebastian’s outfit became a rogue terrorist organisation that murdered the head of the government’s beloved brother.The revolutionary council tried to get rid of Sebastian but failed and found they were unable to deal with the situation themselves. So they paid a mercenary, who happened to be training Sebastian’s troops at the time, to kill him. Meanwhile, government troops arrived to arrest Sebastian for the murder of Chemora. A skirmish broke out. People were killed. The mercenary was never seen or heard from again. But everything turned out fine in the end. The revolutionaries, under their new leader Hector, brokered a deal with Neravista and everyone lived happily ever after. It’ll get a short column on page five of the
New York Post
.’
Ventura smiled thinly at the story. ‘It will work. And you will be rewarded for your efforts . . . by your own people?’
‘I get a reputation among people who respect that kind of thing.’
‘Then there’s the gold mine,’ Ventura said, his words this time accompanied by a friendly smirk.
Steel glanced at him long enough to see there was no intended malice. ‘You still ain’t ready to take that pebble, Ventura.’
‘But I’m getting closer, no?’
Both men laughed as they walked into the night.
In the darkness Victor trotted along the track, with the niggling feeling that someone was following him. He slowed to a stop to look back and listen, but he could hear nothing. It was so dark that he could not see far beyond his horse’s nose. The glow from the fires of Hector’s encampment had already disappeared.
He trotted on, not looking forward to the ride or to getting back to the camp. Terrible suspicions about Hector haunted him. He felt something very bad was going to happen. But no one would listen to him, anyway.
Victor felt suddenly alone, and not just physically. He wondered if it was time to move on himself. The rebellion no longer felt like the one he had joined. Deep down he was not entirely against Hector’s efforts to broker a peace deal. Victor hated violence and the prospect of more to come while Sebastian remained entrenched appalled him. He knew his thoughts were disloyal and that his reasons for wanting peace now were selfish. But it was how he felt and he could not ignore it.
An unfamiliar sound snapped him out of his thoughts.
He slowed down again, turned and listened. He couldn’t see anything, yet the distant sound remained. He stopped altogether.
It was a rumbling sound and growing louder, like hooves rapidly striking the ground. That was it. Riders!
Victor’s first thought was to step back into the undergrowth and let whoever it was pass. But that would have been too risky right now. He might not have had good enough reasons for his paranoia before he’d arrived at Hector’s camp but he felt entirely justified by the time he had left it. If he was right and Hector had been prepared to kill Sebastian then the man would have no qualms about doing the same to him. Victor was suddenly filled with fear.
The pounding of hooves grew louder and Victor dug his heels into his horse’s flanks so hard that the animal shot forward at a gallop. He lost his hat and raced along the track.
Panic gripped him. He felt a desperate need to escape. But he could barely see ahead - the cloud-covered sky and the trees lining the track made the blackness complete. A branch whacked him across the face, a stinging blow that drew blood. He crouched low against the horse’s neck and spurred the animal on.
The sound of pursuit became fainter but it had only become lost in the noise of the thudding hooves of his own mount. Victor wanted to look back but did not dare allow his stare to stray from the way ahead. His horse swerved suddenly to take a bend in the track but it had come upon it too suddenly and its flank struck a branch. Victor felt a solid blow against his leg that must have hurt the horse too but the animal did not flinch and powered on.
They galloped into another tight turn and this time Victor almost lost his balance. As he sat up in the saddle a low branch came out of nowhere and slammed him in the shoulder. He stopped dead while his horse continued on. He somersaulted backwards and struck the ground brutally hard, rolling over several times before coming to a halt in the centre of the track.
The blow and the fall stunned Victor and he lay in the dirt, trying to regain his senses. He rolled onto his front and pulled his knees beneath him, feeling a searing pain in his chest. He realised that the sound of beating hooves came from his pursuers.They would soon reach the bend.
Victor rolled as fast as he could to the edge of the track and got there just as the beasts thrashed past him. He pushed himself up onto his knees where he balanced unsteadily. He had to get going - but which way? if he remained on the trail there was a chance of running into the riders again. He could not be absolutely certain that they had been pursuing him but he was not about to wait around and ask them. His only option was to make his way into the bush and somehow shadow the track until he could be certain where he was. He needed to cross a valley to the adjacent plateau on top of which was his own encampment. But at night, in this jungle, that was going to be easier said than done.
He got to his feet, put his back to the track and felt his way forward, immediately hitting an impenetrable thicket. He tried to explore a way around it but the sound of hooves froze him. The horsemen were returning, this time at the trot.
Victor dropped to his belly and like a rodent scurried deeper into the bush, dragging himself in as far as he could.