Микки Спиллейн - The Delta Factor

“You might louse us up. I know where some stuff is.” I was thinking of the decoy packet I delivered to Fucilla that the captain would have kept someplace in his office.

“No.” His tone was adamant.

“Okay, it’s your sweat, buddy.”

The lieutenant said nervously, “We’ve been too long, señor. It would be wise to hurry.”

I nodded and looked at Victor Sable. “Let’s go. Stay in front of like you’re being marched to an interrogation. If there’s any trouble, hit the floor.”

He smiled gently. “Tell me one thing, please.”

“What?”

“Are you instructed to kill me if this is unsuccessful?”

I nodded.

“Good. Please don’t hesitate. My death is more preferable than falling into the hands of the Reds.”

“You’re that big, then?”

“Exactly. I’m that big. Alive, and they somehow force me to talk, I can be responsible for the death of millions. Dead… well, at least it gives the world a chance to come to its senses.”

“First we’ll try to get you out alive,” I told him.

“You’re a brave man,” he said.

I shook my head. “You’re looking at the stupidest guy alive,” I said. “Come on.”

No one questioned us as we passed through the corridors. The lieutenant represented the chain of command whose word was law and the gates opened and closed behind us. In the dim light from the emergency bulbs strung along the walls, none of them could see the bulge of the gun under my coat or the note of urgency that must have been in our expressions. They simply did as they had done before, allowed the prisoner out under escort for interrogation. Later, to protect themselves and their new captain they would remember how I pressed against him as if I had a gun in his side and how he had tried to warn them silently that something was wrong, but how they, as simple guards, weren’t equipped to handle such subtleties.

Only the one with the hostile eyes who had seen the world come and go, who had a hatred for all authority whose positions he coveted so badly, put up any opposition at all. In his ferretlike mind a few things fell into place and he saw the lieutenant in a gross error that could reduce him to nothingness while he elevated himself, and he whipped the pistol from the topless holster and pointed it through the bars of the gate.

His mistake was thinking the lieutenant was in charge. I shot him through his smile, watched him rebound off the desk and collapse in a heap in front of us. Without a word the lieutenant snaked his hand through the bars, recovered his keys and opened the door. Victor Sable gave me an odd look, then went through in front of us.

The others had heard the shot. They came running around the opposite end of the corridor as we were walking up it, guns drawn, then saw us approaching and stopped. They looked at each other, waiting for somebody to make a move, then glanced back at the lieutenant.

I spoke in their own language to make sure they understood. “An accident. The lieutenant had told him not to cut the top from his holster. When he dropped his keys and bent down to retrieve them the gun fell and went off.”

Apparently the dead guard had stated his views on locked holstered guns too often. The explanation was enough. Their relieved grins broke the tension as they thought about the ribbing they were going to be able to give the smart old campaigner who always treated them like the idiots they were, secretly enjoying the chewing out they figured the lieutenant must have given him.

We were passed through the last gate and behind us everything became quiet and routine again, only our feet making hollow, echoing sounds on the flagstones as we walked toward the office.

But Lady Luck who had been so generous up to now decided to get a little waspish. The startled shout behind us echoed off the walls and was picked up by others. One of those guards who hadn’t been able to wait to stick the needle into the one who had dropped his gun had gone back and found him dead.

I grabbed the lieutenant by his arm. “How many up ahead?”

“About thirty at various stations, señor.”

“Can they be alerted?”

The lieutenant held up his hand for quiet. In back of us the excited shouts had quieted and we knew they were trying to work out a course of action. The only thing that was holding them back for the moment was that the lieutenant still represented authority and the responsibility was his. To them, he hadn’t been under a gun and what he had pleased to tell them was his own affair. It wouldn’t take long for them to put the pieces together and investigate even further back to the initial guard, and when they found him out cold all hell would break loose.

The lieutenant understood it as well as I did. He said, “If they hit the alarm it will bring the others inside to their stations. They will converge on us from all sides. There are standing orders as to what they should do then.” He gave me a hopeless shrug.

“Is the alarm system connected to the lights?”

He shook his head. “No. It is separate wiring.”

I knew where I was and knew what I had to do. I gave a quick jerk of my head for them to follow me and started off at a half trot to the corridor that bisected the one we were in. I was working against minutes and seconds now and each one that passed brought us closer to the deadline.

When I reached the turn I cut right, found the beams that framed the slab leading to the floor below and yanked out the bolts Fucilla had so nicely showed me, and pushed against the granite block. The lieutenant watched with amazement, wondering at my intimate knowledge of the secret mechanics of the fortification, a new respect in his face.

Unasked, he reached in his belt and handed me a small flashlight. I had no choice but to trust him. If he decided to play it against me it was lost and if I took the time to herd him and Sable through the maze below we’d run out of time and that would end it too.

I took the flashlight and handed him my.45. “Wait here,” I said.

The few bulbs that were strung at odd intervals were enough to show me the way. I wasn’t on any grand tour this time and could bypass all the grisly exhibits that furnished the row of rooms. I skirted around the gory reminders of the Rose Castle’s past and probable present, the thump-thump of the gasoline engine like a pathfinder signal up ahead.

This time I didn’t have to bother picking a lock. The door stayed shut under an old-fashioned thumb latch and pulled open with squeaking reluctance when I yanked on the handle. I flashed the beam of the light on the antique two-cylinder marine engine pounding away slowly, throwing its power through a gear system that eventually spun the aged generator far below its maximum capacity, spotted the plugs that fired it and yanked them loose with a little shower of sparks and a relieved groan from the massive flywheel as it gradually came to a halt.

Behind me the dim light of the bulbs faded into total darkness and only the small shaft of the flashlight was left to pick my way out. But it was enough. The shadows were grimmer and deeper, the implements of human agony more grotesque than before, almost coming alive as the light wove through them, their shadows reaching out for me.

I found the stairs, went up them quickly, hit the activating lever and pulled the massive slab open.

The shot went off in front of my face as I dived and rolled across the corridor, cursing under my breath. The flash skittered across the floor, still on, and in its beam I could see the guard at the intersection of the corridor face down, squirming on his rifle, his low moan still smothered in the reverberating roar of the.45.

A hand yanked me to my feet and the lieutenant said,

“It was necessary, señor.” I grabbed the flashlight, scrambled to my feet and played the light over Victor Sable and the lieutenant. He was holding the gun out to me. “There will be others coming, señor. We must hurry.”