Coffee (50 page)

The
camera had little use to him. He cranked the film back into the
metal container, and stashed it in his pocket. He crawled away from
the edge, and stood up safely out of sight. With a catapulting
sweep, he hurled the camera high and far into the jungle, over the
heads of the two guards. It tumbled down through thick growth,
making a series of snapping and crunching sounds. He crawled back
to the edge to see their reaction. As hoped, the one by the door
remained while the other walked to the edge of the brush with rifle
outstretched. Warren positioned himself directly above the one by
the door. His desperate plan was to jump off, land on the guard’s
back, pining him to the ground. He would hold the other at bay with
his pistol, long enough to regain the truck.

He
edged his legs over the side, and balanced on his tail bone while
calculating the right push off force. Down he fell, but slightly
farther out than anticipated. The man’s skull wedged into
Warren’s crotch with a force like a falling log. They both
crumpled to the dirt, Warren on top.

The
pain from his groin swelled to a crescendo. White blotches obscured
his vision. Only a low groan could pass his open mouth. The guard
under him regained composure and struggled to stand. Warren
reflexively popped the handle of the Baretta into the guard’s
chin, knocking him out cold. With his cheek still down in the
dirt, Warren raised the gun to point it at the other guard, who had
now turned his rifle toward him. “Put ... the ... gun ...
down .... Now... .” Airy moans separated his suffered
words.

Guards
at Clorice Coffee likely had little experience with serious threats.
A seasoned military person would probably ignore Warren’s
demands under the circumstances, but this young man quickly dropped
his rifle and raised his arms. Warren painfully pulled his knees up
under him while keeping the gun pointed. With his other hand
cradling his crotch, he took short labored steps to the truck.
Inside, banging and shouting returned. “What’s going on
out there! What’s happening?”

He
unlocked the cab, and climbed in. Sitting down behind the wheel
delivered a new plateau of pain. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Nausea swirled in his gut. He pointed a last time at the guard, “Do
... not ... follow ... or ... I ... shoot ... your ... boss.”

He
floored it up the road toward the exit. Photo enthusiasts still
crowded the gate area. His prisoners continued their screaming and
pounding. He needed to generate enough sounds to drown out their
noises.

Warren
overcame his pain, and leaned out the window. With a clenched fist,
he shouted “Yea! Yea! We got the pictures!” He raised
his arm in a gesture to encourage a crowd cheer. They obliged
willingly. Warren urged them on. “More! More! Let’s
hear it for
Know It All
magazine! Whoopeee!” Warren
slapped the side of the truck repeatedly to match the banging
within. “Open the gates! I’m late! Gotta get to the
presses!”

The
crowd loved a reason to celebrate. Cheering led to some
spontaneous dancing. They formed a path, and like running the
gauntlet, they pounded back on the truck’s sides. Warren
drove as fast as possible without hitting anyone, and then sped
across the bridge.



Etty
crouched behind a cement road construction barrier, just off the
access street to the island bridge, waiting for some sign of Warren.
She needed to be sure he had completed his task before beginning
hers. But she never expected to see his beaming face through the
window of a media truck. “Warren! You made it!” She
ran to the side and reached up to hug his head. “I was so
worried!”

“What
the hell are you doing here! You’re supposed to be at the
hotel!”

“Don’t
worry, I took care of everything. What’s Bryce’s plan?”

The
voices of the head guard and young girl inside shouted out. “Let
us out of here! You’re going to pay for this!”

Etty
lowered her eyebrows, “So, you have some passengers?”

“Yea,
couple of fans. What do you mean, you’ve taken care of
everything? You need to be on that plane - It’s my ass you’re
messing with here, and I’m kind of attached to it.”

“I
sent a package off to the FBI - a complete affidavit, written in my
own hand, of everything that has happened. To confirm the date, I
threw in the score of yesterday’s Celtics-Nicks game. Any
handwriting expert can confirm it’s me. I even pushed inky
finger prints all over it. Warren, you’re clear. There’s
no way that letter won’t start an investigation and get you
two out of trouble.”

Warren
marveled at her composure. “Fine. I lied. I’m really
worried about your ass, not mine. This isn’t all about
coffee, you know.”

The
prisoners continued to pound on the walls. Etty persisted.
“Com’on, hurry up. What’s Bryce’s plan? I’m
going to sneak in once the fire starts.”

Warren
smacked the steering wheel. “Damn you Etty! He’s going
to bomb it from the air. I’m going in there with you!”

“Bomb
it?” She chuckled. “What a cowboy. And no, you’re
not coming with me. The only thing protecting me in there is that
you have the evidence in a safe place. We go in together, and they
could lock us up forever, or just kill us, and destroy your
evidence. You have to go - get to the airport. And if we don’t
show up, you fly to Washington and get the Marines to bail us out.
You understand?”

“Jeez.
Yes Ma’am. Etty, you’re crazy to go back in there.”

“I
know exactly what I’m doing, and I won’t accept any
arguments. Not now. Not this close. Now step out of there. I’ll
get rid of the truck. You need to catch a taxi.”

Warren
opened the door and stepped out. He gave Etty a bear hug. “I
can see I have little influence in this operation. You can be as
sure as you want on this stuff, but just remember I’ve already
been through your death once. It’s horrible - don’t do
it again.”

She
kissed his chin, and pulled away.

“Nice
truck. You committed grand larceny after all.”

“Yea,
I’ll send the magazine a donation, and a little extra for the
poor guy I throttled to get it.” Warren described the guard
and girl in the back.

“Employees
of Clorice? I’ll let them out later, before I come to meet
you at the airport.” She removed the AL5 folder from the back
of her shirt, removed the Employment Contract and handed over the
rest. “Here. Take this with you. Did you get the pictures?”

“Yup
- as you ordered, and the sample. It was a ball buster.” He
described some of the President’s poses, and then surfaced the
film canister. He cracked it open for Etty to see the fertilizer
inside.

“I
can’t wait to how you did it. Let me have a little of that.”
She put out her hand and Warren tapped out a small pile. She
sprinkled it into the breast pocket of her shirt. Then she reached
into the file now in Warren’s hands. “Actually, I’ll
take one page out of this too, something unimportant.” She
leafed through, and pulled a nearly blank page out with only a few
inconsequential sentences. She added it to her collection.

“I
wish I knew what you were up to, Etty.” He stooped to hug her
shoulders a last time.

“Nothing
risky. I won’t go in until the explosions start. .... Bombs.
What’s he going to do, steal a military aircraft? Actually,
don’t tell me. And he was worried about me taking risks.”

“Please
be careful,” Warren pleaded, and then turned to flag a taxi.

Etty
yelled to his back. “Warren - thanks for all you’ve
done. You’re a hero, you know. To the whole world. And
especially to me.”

Warren
glanced back with a dimpled smile. A taxi appeared in an instant on
the busy Boulevard, and off he sped.



Etty
climbed into the truck, and drove around to the opposite side of the
street. She parked a safe distance from anyone who might hear the
shouting, and prepared to abandon it until later. Her riders became
oddly quiet, but the silence suddenly shattered with a loud blast
from a gun, only inches from her head. The access door to the back
swung open. Chunks of the lock flew into the dash board. Before
Etty could react, an arm reached through and gripped her elbow. His
uniformed chest followed, the other hand holding a pistol at her
face. “I found a gun hidden back there! You accommodate your
prisoners well... Where is he?” The young girl poked her head
in, and lightly gasped to see a woman now at the wheel.

“Gone.
Let me go, there’s been a mistake.”

“I
know who you are! You’re the one who escaped!” Through
a devious grin, he bore down on her. “The mistake is yours.
I’ll be the hero now!” He yanked her across to the
passenger seat, and took her place. He whipped the truck around,
and fish-tailed across the bridge to the gate.

Most
of the crowd had disbursed, but the remaining guards brandished
their rifles frantically. The group from the storage facility had
relayed their story of the abducted officer, and all guards were on
alert. Etty’s driver waved them aside with a single motion,
and passed through. “I’m locking you where you’re
sure not to escape - you and the centipedes.”

He
careened along, and skidded onto the overgrown road leading to the
storage facility. “No! Not here! Please!” Etty
protested.

He
caught her frightened eyes, and smiled all the more. The truck
arrived at the clearing just as Bryce’s helicopter whooshed
overhead, nearly clipping the trees. The man slammed on the breaks
and leaned out. “What the hell?” More roaring sounds
came from every direction.

An
ambulance truck had arrived just ahead of them. Two guards pulling
a stretcher out of the back also stopped to stare at the speeding
aircraft.

Etty
slipped away from the guard’s slightly loosened hold, and
threw open the door. She screamed as she dived into the brush, “Get
down! Everyone!”

The
explosion’s shock wave instantly pulverized the truck’s
windshield. The front wheels lifted up, sending the whole truck
sailing backwards through the air. It landed topside down with the
crunch of more breaking glass. Etty shielded her eyes from the
intensity of heat and light. A mossy stump protected most of her
body, but leaves spontaneously ignited around her and singed her
hair and clothes. When she finally looked up, the enormous fireball
still rose above them, boiling in on itself in a black and red
mushroom cloud.

A
clamoring mob of security guards and workers ran down the road.
Etty raced to the truck to check on the man and girl. The rear
doors had broken open, and the girl stood outside rubbing a bloody
abrasion. The man lay pinned beneath the driver’s wheel.
Etty climbed under the hood, and reached through the windshield
opening to touch his neck for a pulse. He let out a pained yell.
Relieved, she said softly, “You’re conscious.”

“What
happened?”

“You’ve
been bombed. Can you move your limbs?”

He
slowly rolled his shoulders, then tested arms and legs. “I
think nothing’s broken.”

“You’re
back? Does it feel strong?”

“Yes.
My face hurts.”

“I’ll
help you squeeze through the windshield. Take my hand.”

He
reached through, and Etty carefully guided him out onto the street.
Many faces now surrounded them. The injured girl pushed people
aside to address the man as he lay. “Is he going to live?”
she asked, with unexpected anger in her voice.

“He’s
in shock, but I don’t think it’s too serious. How about
you?” Etty looked up through her mess of tangled black hair,
burned at the ends.

“Well,
then he won’t mind this.” The girl wound back one foot,
and then kicked him hard in the stomach. He curled up with a new
groan. “There, that’s for touching me in there.”
Then she stormed off, with rags of blackened and torn skirt material
waving behind her.

Etty
subdued a chuckle, then yelled into the onlookers, “Was there
anyone in the building?” No one thought so. “See to
the two men from the ambulance!” They had been blown back
many feet, but both made audible cries for help, at least showing
survival.

Etty
sat above her driver, and placed his head on her lap so she could
better stop the flow of blood from a gash in his scalp. “This
man needs medical attention.” The man looked up at her, not
sure what to make of this mysterious foreigner.

Milpeau
barged through the onlookers. “Etty! You!” He stood,
bewildered, clenching a fist. “Are you behind this!” He
reached down to grab her, but was rebuffed by a blow to his side
with a woman’s heavy purse.

“You
leave her alone!” Anna defiantly stepped between Milpeau and
Etty, with the bag over her shoulder ready to swing again.

“Wife!
What are you doing!”

Etty
looked up, astounded, “Wife? Anna, Milpeau is your husband?”

Anna
answered without turning around, keeping her steady eyes on Milpeau.
“Yes. But not for long if he harms you!”

Etty
interrupted the standoff. “Please, you two.” She
checked her watch. “Milpeau, all I ask is that you take me to
Clorice. Right now. Give me no more than thirty minutes with him,
and then you may do as you wish. Anna, find someone to help this
guard and see to the two men from the other truck.”

Anna
answered first, looking over at Milpeau. “Well? Is that too
much to ask?”

Milpeau
focused elsewhere, on the charred ambulance. Then he realized what
had happened. “
Palavrão!
The President was
still within!”
The air again filled with the roar of jet
engines. Milpeau searched skyward. “Are you behind this?
Etty? Could you have done this terrible thing?”

Some
of the crowd fled in a screaming mob. Two planes were seen flying
wing to wing. Milpeau demanded her attention, with a shake of her
arm. “Tell me what you know! Will they destroy the whole
compound? Answer me!”