Tortured Spirits (39 page)

“For a price,” Renaud said.

“Oui, for a price. I'm a businessman, as Andre says. But now I've come to join your fight, to stand by my friend Le Père.”

“He's right,” Alejandro said. “Louider's provided services that have kept the movement alive.”

“How many men do you bring to the table?” Janvier said.

Louider shrugged. “Five hundred, maybe a thousand. But I bring a lot more than that: trucks with registration numbers clearing them for travel during crises like the one rocking our cities. Trucks. Equipment.
Guns.”

Throwing back the latches on the footlocker, Louider removed a compact machine gun with a thick clip, a laser-mounted scope, and a grenade launcher.

Jake's eye widened. He had seen the gun model before; he had helped slay Avademe with just such a weapon, courtesy of the Order of Avademe. Karlin Reichard's Brooklyn shipyard had housed hundreds of crates containing such weapons.

“What is that?” Renaud said.

“The ATAC 3000,” Louider said. “The cutting edge of modern warfare. One provides the equivalent firepower of ten men with conventional weapons. And I have a thousand of them.”

“That makes the equivalent of fifteen thousand men between us, conservatively speaking,” Alejandro said.

“We still need more men,” Andre said.

“I have an idea,” Jake said.

Everyone turned to him.

“What are you even doing here?” Renaud said. “You're not a Pavotian.”

“He's here at my request,” Pharah said.

“And mine,” Andre said.
“I
wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him.”

“It's okay,” Jake said. “He's right. I don't have the same patriotic investment that the rest of you do. But I am fighting for my life and for Maria's. Neither she nor I can hope to get off this island with Malvado in charge, and the clock is running on her meter.”

“What's your idea?” Andre said.

“It won't be easy.” Jake looked at Pharah. “And you'll have to take a big risk.”

“Wake up.”

Maria opened her eyes. Her head hung forward, and she felt her hands cuffed behind her back. The surface of the metal table, with its telltale signs of torture, came into focus. She tried to move her legs, but her ankles were tied to the chair. She raised her head. Russel sat before her once more, a gauze bandage taped over his eye. Maxime stood beside him, his arms folded across his chest. His nose had been taped, and greenish bruises circled his eyes.

“You look like a pirate,” she said to Russel.

“And you look like a woman tied to a chair,” Russel said. “Why did you put that cigarette out in my eye?”

“I decided to go cold turkey.”

“The doctor says my cornea is burned. Odds are I won't see out of this eye again.”

“Good. It serves you right for what you did to Jake, you son of a bitch.”

“Do you think it's smart to abuse people who have the power and means to torture you?”

“You're going to do what you're going to do: kill me or turn me into one of those zonbies. I figured I'd give you something to remember me by.”

Russel stood. “Jake. A little retribution meted out for your wounded lover.”

“Who says we're fucking?”

“You went through an awful lot of trouble to rescue him. You killed living soldiers in addition to zonbie slaves.”

“I'd do the same for any partner.”

“Like Edgar Hopkins?”

Maria stayed quiet.

“Well, I can understand the desire for retribution. I'm feeling it myself right now.”

Russel gestured to the female soldier, and she and Maxime moved to Maria. The woman stood behind her and braced her arm under Maria's chin, grasping one side of her head, holding her still. Maxime set his hands on Maria's shoulders, squeezing them so she couldn't tip her chair back. Russel held his hand out to one of the remaining
soldiers, who drew his machete from its sheath and set its handle in Russel's palm.

Russel closed his fingers around the handle and stepped beside Maxime, facing Maria, whose heart pounded in her chest. Russel waved the long blade before her eyes.

Oh, Jesus, no.

“Tell me the names of the men who helped you rescue Helman and free Santiago.”

Tears filled Maria's eyes. “Fuck you.”

Russel nodded to the woman behind Maria, who jerked Maria's head back so she stared straight at her interrogator.

“This is a cold business poorly served by childish emotions. You'll tell me what I want to know eventually, and then you'll wish you'd saved yourself a great deal of pain and your beauty. If you and Helman are reunited, he'll be
your
better-looking half.”

Maria spat at Russel, but her saliva only wrapped around her own chin. Russel touched the tip of the machete against her jawline, then drew it over her cheek. She felt the blade dimpling her flesh. It stopped just beneath her right eye. Sweat formed on her brow, and she smelled the odor under her arms.

“Retribution can be a pleasant experience for some and agonizing for others.” Russel raised his elbow so Maria saw the entire blade except for its tip. He rotated his wrist, wiggling the tip so it pressed against Maria's lower eyelid.

Her tears caused him to go out of focus, and she closed her eyes. The machete's tip pressed against her nerves, and she felt it breaking through her skin.

The door opened and a hoarse voice cried out, “Stop!”

Maria opened her eyes. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and Russel came into focus, his head turned toward the withered-looking old woman who had just entered the room.

“What is it, Catoute?” Russel sounded surprised to see the old witch doctor.

“President Malvado wants us to deliver this woman to him at the palace immediately. In
one
piece.”

Lowering his machete, Russel glanced at Maxime, who shrugged with obvious disappointment.

Maria felt a blood drop trickling down her cheek from beneath her eye.

“It looks like you've been granted a temporary reprieve,” Russel said.

Catoute moved forward, her black cane tapping the floor. The old woman's appearance caused Maria to shudder.

“I wouldn't count on it,” Catoute said.

The helicopter soared over the rain forest, the jungle terrain outlined in light from the ongoing barrage of flares in the night sky. Still handcuffed, Maria sat between two soldiers once more. Russel and Mambo Catoute sat opposite her, Maxime in the cockpit. Maria still felt nervous in the old woman's presence. If Jake's theories were correct, she was responsible for the zonbies.

Clearing the rain forest, the helicopter headed in the direction of two buildings: the château palace Maria had seen from afar with Jake and a darker, more foreboding structure, with a domed roof surrounded by spires.

L'église du Serpent Noir,
Maria thought.
The Church of the Black Snake.

The helicopter veered toward the palace instead, flying low over a stone wall manned by armed guards, an army
barracks, and gardens and fountains, the grounds well lit by decorative lights that splashed multiple colors on the lawn statues. It descended onto asphalt with markings between the three wings of the palace. Maria felt her stomach tightening at the prospect of seeing Malvado, and she wondered if she could kill him with her bare hands.

As the rotor blades slowed to a stop, her favorite two soldiers guided her onto the tarmac, where she watched Russel help Catoute down. Maxime jumped out last. The six of them walked through the humid night to the center structure of the palace, where armed soldiers saluted Russel and Catoute and opened doors for the entire party.

Inside the palace, Maria looked up at the high ceilings. With their footsteps echoing and Catoute's cane tapping, she gazed at paintings that hung on the walls and antique chairs and pianos. Everywhere they turned, soldiers watched them.

At last they stopped at a set of double doors, which Russel opened. The soldiers guided Maria into an enormous office, and Russel and Catoute followed. Maria's gaze darted from a gigantic oak desk to a painting of Malvado over the mantel of a fireplace which had seen little, if any, use over the centuries. The flag of Pavot Island hung on a pole behind the desk. Four plush sofas surrounded a square table. Bookcases filled with leather volumes served as frames for several maps.

The center of power,
Maria thought.

A side door opened, and an imposing figure, clad in a royal-blue uniform fringed in gold, strode into the room. Broad shoulders. A shaved head peppered with gray hair.
Beady eyes. A wide nose and full lips.

Malvado.

The soldiers saluted their leader, who marched past them and stared down at Maria.

Her limbs turned limp, and she felt saliva collecting at the back of her throat. Malvado was a giant, standing well over six feet tall. Even Maxime looked puny in comparison.

Malvado glanced at the bandage on his son's nose but said nothing. When he looked at Maria again, she felt like a child. It would never have occurred to her to abuse this man as she had Russel and Maxime.

“You are Maria Vasquez,” Malvado said in English with a French Caribbean accent. His nostrils flared as if he was sniffing for the smell of her fear. “You look so small standing there, woman.”

Maria said nothing.

Malvado moved behind his desk and sat in his chair. “Why did you come here to free Andre Santiago? Who is he to you?”

“I never heard of the man before I arrived,” Maria said.

“You're lying. You didn't come here to enjoy our sunsets and beaches.” Malvado gestured to Russel and Maxime. “What do you two have to say for yourselves? You didn't look like this two hours ago.”

Maxime shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Her appearance is deceiving.”

“Miss Vasquez, you have cost me time, resources, and money. Worse, you've helped infect my country. The students and activists are out of control. I find myself
admiring you, and under normal circumstances, I'd enjoy punishing you myself or allowing Maxime to do it. But Mambo Catoute has convinced me you will serve a greater purpose in her custody. William, kindly transport our guest to L'église du Serpent Noir, then return. You have much work to do in the morning.”

Russel bowed. “As you wish.”

Malvado approached Maria again and caressed her cheek. “Should you survive Mambo Catoute's plans for you, it will be my pleasure to see you again.”

Maria shuddered.

“Take her to the Church of the Black Snake.”

Janvier spread out a map across the table. At Jake's request, Jorge and Stephane joined the war council, and Jake had changed into his own clothing and given his uniform to Stephane. Louider and several delegates had already departed.

Andre tapped the map. “The key is to strike all of our targets simultaneously. The shock factor will even the odds.”

Pharah reentered the room. “I just received word that Maria's been transported from the Ministry of Defense to the palace.”

“Then I'll be leading the charge on the palace,” Jake said.

Andre looked up from the map. “And I'll be joining you.”

“Not a chance. We need someone to coordinate things from here.”

“Father Alejandro is the perfect candidate for that.”

“You're too important a symbol to risk losing in battle.”

“I've been rotting in El Miedo for thirty years. I don't intend to sit by in a cave while my people fight a revolution for what I believe in.”

“And I didn't spring you out because of some sense of international justice. I did it to save a friend in Miami. Your wife expects me to bring you home alive.”

“My wife knows I'm a man of deeds. My home is here, not Miami.”

“If you get killed, my friend is screwed. I've been through too much to allow that to happen.”

“Then you have an excellent reason to watch my back and keep me alive. I'll be there to take that bastard Malvado down.”