On the oil can was an ashtray heaped with cigarette butts, both tobacco and marijuana. Lyons knew where he would hide the dead sentry.
* * *
A hundred youthful Tate Monroes looked down from the walls of the trophy room. The old chair-bound man that they had become pointed a skeletal finger at Jorge Lopez, raved: "You would have doubted us every step of the way! You doubted that I could finance your coup d'etat. You doubted I could form a secret army. You doubted that my technicians could create the weapons, that my soldiers would have the discipline! And on every point I, Tate Monroe, have proved your doubts groundless. Now you demand proof that we are capable of the strike..."
"Mr. Monroe, sir. Sir!" Commander Furst interrupted his employer. "Please, sir, don't..."
"Don't what!
What!"
"Your anger is justified, but unnecessary. Senor Lopez believes a command performance is required to demonstrate our men and machines. Please see it from his viewpoint. We have done the impossible. Formed and trained a secret army capable of striking deep into his nation. After all, his soldiers couldn't do it. Correct, Senor Lopez?"
Lopez scratched at his notepad with his pen. He considered the question for a moment before answering. "You misunderstand my request in two ways. One, I do not doubt the ability of your force. I viewed the films of training. I know the attack will be devastating and deadly. I simply said that the time of the attack approaches, and that our leader — my leader and your ally, correct me — would like to watch a rehearsal..."
"He'd risk everything, he'd..." Monroe's words were cut off by a choking fit. He coughed up a wad of mucous and spat it out on the floor. "Coming up here would risk everything! What if he were detected? What if an informer reported to your government?"
"Mr. Monroe," Lopez countered patiently. "What greater risk could El Rojo take than to go ahead without a rehearsal? The visit and demonstration would require only a day. He would come as I have come, in darkness and leave in darkness. He and the other generals would watch the demonstration, then return to their garrisons, confident of victory."
"What other generals?" Furst asked. Now it was his turn to be visibly disturbed.
"Other patriots who have the courage to stand against the wave of socialism threatening our hemisphere..."
"I'm sure they're patriots. But how many patriots do you have involved in this venture? It used to be only El Rojo's troops. Now there are more generals?"
"They are vital to the success of the coup. General Montoya heads the section responsible for all communication — the facilities, the equipment, the soldiers guarding the communications. Without telecommunications on our side, there can be no announcement of victory!"
"And the others?" Furst pressed.
"General Leon, Commander of the Paratroopers securing the Federal District. It is his soldiers who should respond to our attack. If they do not respond, we have the victory. You see, if we had to fight these forces, the socialists and leftists and communists would have time to rally their troops..."
"And what about all the other generals?" Furst continued his questioning. "Will we be presenting demonstrations for them? How many generals are there? Maybe we should set up bleachers."
"We must have allies in this," Lopez told him, ignoring the sarcasm. "Your force will make the first strike, but that will not assure the victory. We must neutralize the opposition. The participation of Generals Montoya and Leon will remove the greatest threats before they can rise. Really, gentlemen, why should loyal Mexican soldiers die? With the control of the communications and the paratroopers guarding the capital, victory will be ours the very minute that your force strikes..."
* * *
Lyons heard all this outside the window. He glanced at his watch. Only another two minutes before flames engulfed the garage.
Inside the room, Lopez finally flared: "These small arguments
* * *
A hundred youthful Tate Monroes looked down from the walls of the trophy room. The old chair-bound man that they had become pointed a skeletal finger at Jorge Lopez, raved: "You would have doubted us every step of the way! You doubted that I could finance your coup d'etat. You doubted I could form a secret army. You doubted that my technicians could create the weapons, that my soldiers would have the discipline! And on every point I, Tate Monroe, have proved your doubts groundless. Now you demand proof that we are capable of the strike..."
"Mr. Monroe, sir. Sir!" Commander Furst interrupted his employer. "Please, sir, don't..."
"Don't what!
What!"
"Your anger is justified, but unnecessary. Senor Lopez believes a command performance is required to demonstrate our men and machines. Please see it from his viewpoint. We have done the impossible. Formed and trained a secret army capable of striking deep into his nation. After all, his soldiers couldn't do it. Correct, Senor Lopez?"
Lopez scratched at his notepad with his pen. He considered the question for a moment before answering. "You misunderstand my request in two ways. One, I do not doubt the ability of your force. I viewed the films of training. I know the attack will be devastating and deadly. I simply said that the time of the attack approaches, and that our leader — my leader and your ally, correct me — would like to watch a rehearsal..."
"He'd risk everything, he'd..." Monroe's words were cut off by a choking fit. He coughed up a wad of mucous and spat it out on the floor. "Coming up here would risk everything! What if he were detected? What if an informer reported to your government?"
"Mr. Monroe," Lopez countered patiently. "What greater risk could El Rojo take than to go ahead without a rehearsal? The visit and demonstration would require only a day. He would come as I have come, in darkness and leave in darkness. He and the other generals would watch the demonstration, then return to their garrisons, confident of victory."
"What other generals?" Furst asked. Now it was his turn to be visibly disturbed.
"Other patriots who have the courage to stand against the wave of socialism threatening our hemisphere..."
"I'm sure they're patriots. But how many patriots do you have involved in this venture? It used to be only El Rojo's troops. Now there are more generals?"
"They are vital to the success of the coup. General Montoya heads the section responsible for all communication — the facilities, the equipment, the soldiers guarding the communications. Without telecommunications on our side, there can be no announcement of victory!"
"And the others?" Furst pressed.
"General Leon, Commander of the Paratroopers securing the Federal District. It is his soldiers who should respond to our attack. If they do not respond, we have the victory. You see, if we had to fight these forces, the socialists and leftists and communists would have time to rally their troops..."
"And what about all the other generals?" Furst continued his questioning. "Will we be presenting demonstrations for them? How many generals are there? Maybe we should set up bleachers."
"We must have allies in this," Lopez told him, ignoring the sarcasm. "Your force will make the first strike, but that will not assure the victory. We must neutralize the opposition. The participation of Generals Montoya and Leon will remove the greatest threats before they can rise. Really, gentlemen, why should loyal Mexican soldiers die? With the control of the communications and the paratroopers guarding the capital, victory will be ours the very minute that your force strikes..."
* * *
Lyons heard all this outside the window. He glanced at his watch. Only another two minutes before flames engulfed the garage.
Inside the room, Lopez finally flared: "These small arguments
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