Empire Builders (29 page)
FORTY
THE WALL OF water that drowned Biloxi hit the inlet to Lake Pontchartrain less than half an hour later. It surged through the inlet, steepening and speeding up in its narrow confines, smashing everything in its path—boats, wharves, locks, bridges—and surged into the broad lake like an invading army searching for plunder.
FORTY-ONEThe concrete bridge carrying Interstate Highway I0 was inundated, cars, trucks, buses swept away into the churning muddy waters. The central span of the bridge collapsed, never designed to stand up to latitudinal stresses of such force.
Within minutes the expanding wave surged over the north-south causeway that spanned the lake and smashed against the concrete levee that protected the city of New Orleans and its suburban communities.
Whole sections of the levee were gouged away; rotting concrete and rusting steel reinforcements that should have been re placed years earlier simply tore loose under the tidal wave’s enormous pressure. Millions of tons of water poured through. The city’s pumping stations were overwhelmed before they could even start up. A frothing smashing wave of dirty gray water rushed through the streets, knocking down poles and highway bridges, collapsing buildings, tossing automobiles and diesel trucks and city
buses like flotsam. Over the unstoppable roar of the water came the screams of a million people and more as they were drowned or crushed by the raging water.
buses like flotsam. Over the unstoppable roar of the water came the screams of a million people and more as they were drowned or crushed by the raging water.
Downhill toward the river the water raced, carrying half the city with it. Electrical wires snapped and fizzed, sewer lines literally exploded with overpressure. Basin Street,Rampart Street ,Bourbon Street disappeared beneath the raging floodwaters. At Duncan Plaza the water smashed through the doors and windows of the City Hall and other government buildings in an unstoppable torrent, tearing away desks, file cabinets, bookcases, people. The mayor found herself stranded on the roof of the City Hall, clinging to a useless radio antenna.
She sobbed hysterically as she looked out on what had been a city. There was nothing to see except the ghosts of buildings sticking out of the surging filthy water. The water itself was thick with debris and the floating bodies of the dead.
The same twin-engine floatplane took Dan, Malik and Gaetano westward through the late afternoon toward Sardinia . They were totally unaware of the disaster that had struck the Gulf shore and New Orleans .
Dan leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. That old man is the boss of these hoodlums, whoever he is. Then Dan grinned sardonically. They were bargaining over my life, Malik and the old man.
Deciding when they would kill me. Not if. When.
He wondered where the Yamagata plane was. They can’t have stayed aloft all this time. They must have had to put down somewhere and refuel. Have they picked us up again? Inadvertently he reached toward his ear, where the biochip transceiver was lodged, but pulled his hand away when he remembered that Gaetano was sitting behind him. They haven’t detected it so far, he thought. But if I activate it now to give Nobo’s people a signal to home on, would the pilots up in the cockpit be able to detect it on their instruments?
He glanced over at Malik, sitting tensely in his seat. Not yet, Dan decided. The plan is that we don’t activate the chips until we see Jane. Then the Yamagata team can attack. If they’re still close enough to get the signal.
No matter what happened, Jane would be safe. Malik’s playing a dangerous game, tightrope-walking between Gaetano and his own interests. But he wants Jane safe almost as much as I do. At least he says he does.
Dan tried to sleep. But no matter how exhausted he felt, no matter how weak and old he felt, sleep would not come. I’m scared, he realized. For the first time in my life I’m really scared. These guys are going to kill me. Or try to. I’ll be okay once the action starts, he told himself. It’s this damned waiting, just sitting here with nothing to do but think and wait and worry.
Eventually he drifted into a troubled sleep, dreaming of formless monsters and hovering faces that shifted before he could truly recognize who they were.
As they drove slowly up the switchback road cut into the cliff’s face, Dan craned his neck for a view of the castle. It loomed up at the top of the cliff, dark gray crenellated stone walls outlined against the bright blue Sardinian sky. It’s not all that big, Dan thought. But those walls look plenty thick.
He felt sick in the pit of his stomach. Whether from fear or radiation or just the fact that he had not eaten anything in almost a full day, he could not tell. Maybe they plan to starve me to death, he thought. Didn’t
one of the Roman emperors do that to somebody? Walled him up in a cell beneath the Senate building and let him starve to death?
one of the Roman emperors do that to somebody? Walled him up in a cell beneath the Senate building and let him starve to death?
He searched the cloudless sky for a trace of a contrail, some evidence that the Yamagata plane was near. Nothing. The sky was a flawless bowl of blue, unmarred by any planes whatsoever. As their car trundled over the warped wooden boards of the castle’s moat bridge, Dan saw that there were six men standing at the main gate. They were in shirtsleeves, dark lean men with stubble on their faces and short-barreled shotguns slung over their shoulders. Rabbit guns. Luperia. The kind that armies all over the world had adopted for close-in killing.
Another half-dozen armed men were sitting around the sunny inner courtyard. One of them trotted alongside the car as it slowed to a stop. The driver clicked the door locks and the shotgun-armed man pulled Dan’s door open.
Ducking through, Dan stretched tiredly and felt his spine and tendons pop. He let the late-aftemoon sun soak into his bones. It felt good, although his legs seemed wobbly. Must be the gravity, he told himself. Looking up at the fitted stone walls around the courtyard, he saw a face in one of the narrow barred windows.
Jane.
Dan’s stomach did a flip. He grinned foolishly and waved to her. Jane’s face disappeared from the window and another took its place, a red-haired young woman who looked enough like Kate... Dan remembered Kate’s sister. So she’s here too. Wonder if Kate’s really going to join the party.
Gaetano came around the car with a smarmy smile on his face.
“You see? I spoke the truth, eh? There she is, waiting for you.” As Malik pulled himself out of the car, an older man, dressed in a dead black suit, stepped out of the doorway and beckoned to Gaetano. He went to the man, who looked to Dan like a butler or some sort of house servant. The man spoke briefly to Gaetano. “What do you suppose he is saying?” Malik asked, sounding slightly nervous. Dan barely heard him through the earplug. “Telling him what’s on the menu for dinner,” Dan said, shifting to put Malik on the side of his good ear.
Malik huffed. “Us, most likely.” “Us,” Dan agreed.
“I have more good news for you,” Gaetano said. “An old friend of yours has come all the way from the Moon to be with us. She should arrive here in a few minutes.”
Kate Williams, sure enough. Dan wondered why she would leave Alphonsus, then remembered that she wanted more than anything else to protect her sister.
“We will wait here for her to arrive,” Gaetano said. “Her car is halfway up the cliff already.” “I want to see Jane,” said Dan.
“You can wait a few minutes. Then we can have a big, happy reunion, all of us together.”
They also serve who stand and wait, Dan said to himself. Matik looked more apprehensive than ever. The seriousness of this pickle is just starting to sink in to him. We could all get ourselves killed. Dan strolled slowly away from the car, across the sunlit courtyard, noticing that at least two of the guys with
shotguns watched him with beady eyes, hands on their weapons. If Gaetano knows that Kate’s car is halfway up the cliff, maybe he’s got guards posted along the road. Or maybe Kate just phoned him from the car to let him know she’s almost here.
He enjoyed the warmth of the sun through his woolen shirt. He felt perspiration trickling down his ribs. Bake the bad stuff out of me, he said to the sun. Boil away the fear. Make me strong again.
He heard the boards of the bridge thudding, and an executive limousine swung through the gate, crunching across the gravel of the courtyard. It stopped behind the car that Dan had come in. A strapping big chauffeur hopped out and opened the door for Kate.
Dan stared at the chauffeur. There was no mistaking his size or his rough red beard, even in an ill-fitting suit of livery and a cap that was almost comically too small for him.
How in the hell did Big George get into this game?
JANE WAITED IMPATIENTLY for them to open the door to her room, striding from the barred window to the locked door and then back again. Gaetano was keeping them down there in the courtyard, stretching out the minutes, torturing her. Dan was there, he had seen her, he had even waved. Close enough to touch, almost. Almost. “What are they waiting for!’ Jane blurted, one hand fidgeting with her hair. She had pinned it back, smooth and sleek, but now she wondered if it wouldn’t look better falling loosely to her shoulders. Kimberly’s hair was a helmet of molten copper. She was watching Jane curiously, a sly little half smile curling her lips.
“Relax,” Kim said. “They’ll be here soon enough.”
But Jane rushed back to the window. She saw a limousine pull through the guarded main gate. The chauffeur trudged around and opened the door for a woman to step out. Kate Williams.
“Your sister’s here,” she called to Kimberly. “Big deal.”
“They’re starting inside!” At last, at last, she thought.
Jane’s eyes darted to the dusty mirror in the corner of the room. She had picked a simple forest green jumpsuit from the closet full of clothes Gaetano had provided. Sensible low-heeled shoes. No need for glamor today. If I know Dan, there’s going to be a ruckus before this is all over.
Kimberly, in a pastel miniskirted sundress, seemed to be catching Jane’s nervousness. Her lips had become a tense thin line, her hands knotted into fists.
“Why did he bring her here?” she asked, her voice brittle. “Rare and I were getting along fine. We don’t need her here.”
Jane answered, “Rafe is a lying, murdering, scheming bastard. I imagine he’ll enjoy watching you and your sister hurt each other.”
“Hurt? I never hurt Kate!”
“From all that you’ve told me, that’s not true,” Jane said. Then she added as gently as she could, “And you know it.”
Kimberly looked away without answering.
The bolt of the door Danked and the heavy door groaned inward. Jane held her breath. Gaetano stepped through, followed by Malik, Kate Williams and finally Dan. Four armed men stood out in the hallway. Jane ran to Dan and threw her arms around his neck.
Dan grabbed her as if she were life itself and held her to him as they kissed, ignoring all the others for a long sweet moment.
“I love you,” she whispered into his ear.
Dan barely heard her through the biochip plug. He whispered back, “I’ve always loved you.”
Gaetano clapped his hands slowly, sardonically. “Bravo,” he quipped. “Bravissimo. Now let’s get down to business.”
Dan grinned crookedly as he let go of Jane. She stood beside him, their backs to the door. “You have arranged transport for Mrs. Scanwell and myself?” Malik asked.
“In due time, Vasily,” said Gaetano. “There are one or two points we must clear up first.”
Dan scratched at his ear, then stuck his little finger in and touched the biochip transceiver. It felt warm. But nothing happened.
No ringing in his ear. No way to know if the damned thing worked or not. He glanced over at Malik. Sonofabitch hasn’t activated his unit. The Russian’s hands stayed down at his sides.
“Rafe, you’ll have to make your transportation arrangements for the three of us,” said Jane. “I’m not leaving here without Dan.”
Gaetano’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I’m afraid that will be impossible, my dear Jane. Dan remains here. He will be kept well and happy, as long as you behave yourself once you get back to Paris .” “I don’t believe you,” Jane said. “I won’t believe that Dan’s safe as long as he’s in your hands.”
Smiling, Gaetano gestured toward Kate Williams. “Look, I’ve even brought him an old friend from the Moon. He’ll have plenty to amuse himself with while he’s here.”
Dan laughed. “I’d rather amuse myself with a nest of cobras.” “I am not leaving here without Dan,” Jane said firmly.
“Yes you are,” said Gaetano. “You have no choice. And his continued good health will depend entirely on your continuing cooperation.”
“He’s right,” Malik said, stepping toward Jane. “You’ll have to come back to Paris with me, Jane. We have no option in the matter.” Jane glowered at the Russian, then at Gaetano.
“It’s all right,” Dan said. “Do what they’re telling you. I’ll be okay.”
She studied Dan more closely. He seemed pale, thinner than she had ever remembered him. He was wearing a heavy woolen shirt and rough Levi’s. There was perspiration on his brow, his upper lip. Dan made himself smile for her. “I’m okay,” he said, anticipating her question. “Just a little close of radiation. Nobo’s medics have already stuck enough counteractants in me to shut down a nuclear reactor.”
But he felt weak, knees shaky. If the Yamagata medicines were doing any good he had yet to feel it.
“Then it’s settled,” Gaetano said. “You two can return to Paris tomorrow morning.Randolph stays here as a guarantee for Jane’s good behavior.”
“Tomorrow morning?” Malik asked. “Why not now? The sooner the better.” “We still have much to discuss,” said Gaetano.
“Discuss?”
“Yes. I want to show you what is expected of you back on the Council. We have a worldwide program to implement, and your cooperation will be very important to us.”
Dan saw how Jane’s face hardened. Even Malik looked angry. Gaetano seemed amused, terribly pleased with himself.
“After all, I may not be the GEC’s chairman,” he made a mocking little bow to Malik, “or its most prestigious member,” another bow, lower, with a flourish, to Jane, “but I do expect the two of you to help me in every way.” Gaetano’s smile vanished. His voice became iron hard. “In other words, I will tell you what to do and you will do it. I will be the master of the GEC. Me, and no one else.” Dan clapped his hands exactly as Gaetano had a few minutes earlier. Furious, the Italian whirled around and raised his fist. Dan saw the punch coming but could not move fast enough to block it. Malik grabbed Gaetano’s wrist and held his arm in midair. The Italian tried to twist free, but Malik held him in a grip of steel. “There is no need for violence,” the Russian said. “Violence is for fools.” Then he released Gaetano’s wrist.
Wringing his hand and glaring at Malik, Gaetano said, “Yes, you’re right. Violence is for fools.” Then he shifted his seething gaze to Dan. “And for my hired help.”
As he took his place at the heavy dark dinner table Dan thought that Jane looked furious, Malik tense, Kate worried, her sister puzzled and Gaetano as pleased as an operatic tenor who had just been asked for a third encore.
Gaetano had spent the remainder of the day locked in conference with Jane and Malik. Giving them their orders, Dan knew. Kate and her sister had gone off together. Dan had taken a nap. No sign of Big George. No sign of the Yamagata assault team. No indication that the double-damned biochip plug had worked at all.
Dan had been tempted to pull the transceiver out of his ear once he was alone in the bedroom to which Gaetano’s guards had escorted him. But he feared that he might be watched by hidden cameras. So he flopped on the narrow bed fully clothed, the transceiver feeling like a boulder lodged in his ear, and stared at the ceiling, knowing that he was far too wound up to sleep.
When the guard’s unlocking the door woke him, it was dark outside. Nothing had changed except the time. Dan splashed some water on his face and went down the castle’s broad stone main staircase to the dining hall, escorted front and rear by silent, grim-looking guards whose shoulder holsters showed through their unbuttoned leather vests.
Gaetano sat at the head of the table, almost vibrating, he was so wired. He chattered about the antiquity of the castle, the family that had built it, the foreign invaders who had never been able to conquer it. Jane and Malik, at Gaetano’s right and left, respectively, exchanged worried looks with each other and occasionally stole a swift glance down to the end of the table, where Dan sat.
He thinks he’s got it made, Dan told himself. He thinks he’s won it all. I guess neither Jane nor Malik put up much resistance to him this afternoon. He gave them their orders and they agreed to do what they’re told.
Kate and her sister hardly said a word as a pair of sullen-faced heavyset women in black uniforms served dinner, shuttling in and out of the swinging door to the kitchen like a pair of silent morose robots.
Where in hell is Nobo’s team? Dan asked himself for the thousandth time. Do they know we’re here? Has something happened to them? And what’s George up to?
Gaetano’s monologue had shifted from the history of the castle to the history of the family who had originally owned and defended it. Now he was talking about his own family, but Dan realized that he did not mean merely his parents and siblings.
“Related by blood,” Gaetano said. “That is what makes us strong. Blood ties are the most binding. We are a family. Every man who joins takes a blood oath that follows him to the grave and even beyond.”
“Beyond?” Jane asked.
“Generations beyond,” said Gaetano. His dark eyes were glittering like the wine in his crystal goblet as it caught the candlelight. “What is the vendetta except a keeping of faith with the generations that preceded you?”
“I thought it was nothing more than a primitive thirst for vengeance,” said Malik.
“Like a family feud in the Ozarks,” Dan added, raising his voice to be heard down the length of the table.
Gaetano’s smile turned sinister. “You make jokes about things you don’t understand. The vendetta is an expression of family loyalty that extends from one generation to the next.”
“And damned near depopulated parts of Sicily ,” said Dan. “Organized murder,” Malik said.
“Organized,” Gaetano agreed, emphasizing the word with an upraised finger. “That is the key. Organization.” He looked down the table at Dan. “You are correct,Randolph . At one time vendettas had taken so many lives in Sicily that whole towns were abandoned, there not left to till the fields. But those enough days were men are gone. Now we are organized.”
With a sad shake of his head Dan said, “Blood oaths and family loyalty—it’s all so medieval. Your
so-called organization is a throwback to the Dark Ages. People have learned to develop higher loyalties than that. While the rest of the world created nation-states and multinational corporations and even a double-damned Global Economic Council, you benighted pricks still act like it’s the frigging ninth century.”
so-called organization is a throwback to the Dark Ages. People have learned to develop higher loyalties than that. While the rest of the world created nation-states and multinational corporations and even a double-damned Global Economic Council, you benighted pricks still act like it’s the frigging ninth century.”
Gaetano’s nostrils flared with anger. “For thousands of years our people have been invaded by foreigners! Greeks, Romans, Goths, Huns, French. Even today our land is ruled by strangers in Rome . We created our organization to protect ourselves against the outside world.”
By stealing from your own people. By murdering and terrifying them.”
“What ruler has ever succeeded without cowing his people into obedience?” Gaetano asked. “Besides, as I told you, we no longer kill amongst ourselves.”
“Now you kill other people.”
Gaetano conceded the point with a tilt of his head. “When we must. But violence is for fools—unless it is absolutely necessary.” “You prefer kidnapping and extortion.”
“I prefer bribery,” said Gaetano, a fingertip brushing his moustache.
“It is usually the safest and cleanest. You would be surprised at how easy it is to bribe people. And not always with money, either. Take Kate, here. All I had to do was to give her Astro Corporation.” Kate stiffened. She did not look at Dan, or even at Gaetano. She stared at her sister, across the table from her.
“Touch,” said Dan.
Gaetano turned back to Malik. “You think that the GEC is running the world; that you, as Council chairman, are in charge. But we are really controlling everything. From the cockfight pits of Bangkok to the agenda of the Global Economic Council, we are in charge! We have ended the vendettas and expanded throughout Europe and North America . We are bringing the Latin cartel under our control, and the Asian gangs as well. Soon we will have the entire world in our grasp. And the Moon, as well.”
“Like Genghis Khan,” Dan said. “Eh?”
“He got the warring Mongol tribes to stop fighting among themselves by turning them outward, to conquest.”
“Yes, and he built a mighty empire, didn’t he?” Gaetano said. “Is that who the old man is? The man we saw this morning? Is he your Genghis Khan?”
Gaetano’s expression hardened. “Who he is is none of your business.”
Dan shrugged. “Vasily, do you see where all this is leading? You wanted to get the whole world’s economy under your control—for the good of the people, of course. But once you’ve done that, some piece of shit like this jerk can steal it from you and all you’ve accomplished is to hand the world over to a pack of thieving, murdering bastards.”
“You need a few lessons in manners,” Gaetano said. “It’s never been my strong point,” Dan replied.
Malik sat silently, as if lost in thought. Jane’s eyes darted from Dan to Gaetano to the Russian and then back to Dan.
The lights vent out.
The chandelier and the lights in the wall sconces flicked off, leaving the table dimly lit by the decorative candles.
“The emergency generator will come on in a moment,” said Gaetano.
Several moments passed. The room remained candlelit. Gaetano spoke in Italian to one of the dour swarthy guards and he left the room. Dan heard excited, exasperated voices shouting from the kitchen.
Nobo’s team has arrived, he told himself. They got here!
The guard came back into the room, bringing a palm-sized two-way radio to Gaetano. Nothing came from it but a hiss of static. In the shadows cast by the candles Dan smiled grimly. The Yamagata team’s knocked out every electrical and electronic circuit in the place. Must have thumped the castle with a hell of an electromagnetic pulse.
“On your feet, all of you? Gaetano snapped. “Something is happening here. You will each be taken to separate rooms. Do not try to leave those rooms until we have things under control. The doors will be locked and guarded. If this is an attack on the castle you will be used as hostages..All of you.”
Jane looked over her shoulder toward Dan as one of the guards took her by the arm and headed for the door. Malik was pushed forward by another guard, none too gently. In the semidarkness it was hard to make out the expression on Gaetano’s face. At least, thought Dan, he doesn’t seem so cocky anymore.
Two guards grabbed his arms and moved him toward the kitchen, away from the others. Going to keep us separated, Dan realized. They passed Gaetano, who was banging the two-way on the table. Dan laughed inwardly: when it doesn’t work, hammer it. That’ll do a lot of good.
The kitchen was even darker than the dining hail, lit only by a pair of battery-powered emergency lamps placed above each of its two doors. In the thick shadows the rows of heavy pots and skillets hanging from their overhead racks looked like an arsenal of medieval weapons. Dan knew there were plenty of knives around, too, but he could not see any in the thick shadows.
But there was a big steaming pot on the stove. Dan stumbled, staggered, let his arms go limp in the grasp of his two guards. They tried to yank him to his feet but Dan hung limply between them, moaning as theatrically as he dared.
They lowered him to the floor, speaking to each other in swift Italian. Dan realized that they intended to carry him, one at his shoulders, the other at his feet.
He kicked with both feet at the guard’s knees, knocking him to the floor with a surprised yelp of pain, and pulled the other one down headfirst to sprawl on top of him. Wriggling to his feet Dan grabbed the
steaming pot as the guard reached for his shoulder holster. He saw the boiling water coming and tried to duck out of its way but Dan flung it at him, pot and all. He screamed as Dan wrung his hands in pain; the pot’s metal handgrips had been scalding hot.
steaming pot as the guard reached for his shoulder holster. He saw the boiling water coming and tried to duck out of its way but Dan flung it at him, pot and all. He screamed as Dan wrung his hands in pain; the pot’s metal handgrips had been scalding hot.
The other guard was scrambling to his feet. Dan reached overhead, grabbed a heavy iron skillet and banged him on the head with it. He fell sideways. Dan swung the skillet again, ignoring the pain in his hand. It sounded like a cathedral clock’s gong. For good measure he bashed the scalded one, too. They both lay silent on the tiled floor. As Dan pawed the two bodies for their pistols he heard gunshots, muffled, far away. But definitely gunshots.
The battle’s on, and Gaetano’s going to use Jane as a shield for himself. Jamming the two pistols into the belt of his Levi’s, wringing his painful hands, Dan headed back toward the dining hall.
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