cussler.blueandgold-第26部分

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　The　Mexican　seemed　intrigued　by　the　answer。　〃You　must　consider　yourself　very　lucky　to　place　yourself　in　my　hands；　Mr。　Austin。〃
　
　〃Not　at　all。　I　took　the　chance　that　you　would　be　willing　to　chat。〃
　
　〃You　made　your　gamble。　I　applaud　your　audacity。　Unfortunately　this　is　not　your　day。　You　lose；〃　he　said　coldly。　〃I　don't　care　who　you　are　or　who　you　represent。　You　have　drawn　the　death　card。〃　He　snapped　his　fingers　again；　and　the　men　rose　from　the　tables　and　began　to　move　in。　Austin　felt　like　a　fox　outfoxed　by　the　hunters。
　
　With　an　ear…splitting　roar　of　its　unmuffled　exhaust　system；　the　battered　yellow　cab　squealed　to　a　stop　in　front　of　the　restaurant。　The　car；　an　ancient　Checker；　was　still　bouncing　on　worn　shock　absorbers　when　the　cab　driver　got　out。　Except　for　the　soiled　seer　sucker　sports　jacket　over　a　Hussong's　T…shirt；　the　driver　behind　the　reflecting　silver　lenses　looked　suspiciously　like　Joe　Zavala。
　
　Joe　stood　on　the　sidewalk　and　called　out　in　heavily　accented　English。　〃Anybody　here　call　a　cab？〃
　
　One　of　Enrico's　men　went　over　and　growled　at　Joe　in　Spanish。
　
　〃I'm　looking　for　an　American；〃　Zavala　said　in　English　at　the　top　of　his　voice；　looking　past　the　thug's　shoulder。　〃Sergeant　Alvin　York。〃
　
　The　man　put　his　palm　on　Zavala's　chest　to　emphasize　his　point。
　
　〃Okay；　okay！　Damned　gringos。〃　He　stalked　back　to　his　cab　and　lurched　off；　trailing　a　purple　cloud　of　exhaust　fumes。
　
　The　thug　turned　around　and　laughed。
　
　Austin　breathed　a　sigh　of　relief。　His　eyes　roved　the　low　rooftops；　and　he　smiled。
　
　Zavala　was　passing　on　a　message；　not　very　subtle　but　effective。　Sergeant　York　was　the　Kentucky　sharpshooter　who　got　the　
　Medal　of　Honor　for　capturing　German　prisoners　during　World　War　I。　〃An　amusing　fellow；　eh；　Mr。　Austin？〃　〃Very　amusing。〃
　
　〃Good。　Now　I　must　go。　Adios；　Mr。　Austin。　Unfortunately　we　will　not　be　meeting　again。〃
　
　〃Wait。〃
　
　The　Mexican　scowled　at　Austin　as　if　he　were　a　bit　of　lint　on　his　shirt。
　
　〃I　wouldn't　move　if　I　were　you。　You're　in　the　sights　of　a　sniper。　One　wrong　move；　and　your　head　will　explode　like　a　ripe　melon。　Look　up　on　that　roof　if　you　don't　believe　me；　and　that　one　over　there。〃
　
　Pedralez　swiveled　his　head　like　a　praying　mantis　and　scanned　the　low　rooftops。　Three　snipers；　placed　at　different　locations；　made　no　effort　to　hide。　He　sat　down　again。
　
　〃It　seems　you　don't　believe　entirely　in　the　forces　of　fate。　What　do　you　want？〃
　
　〃I　simply　want　to　know　who　owns　the　Baja　Tortilla　factory。〃
　
　〃I　do；　of　course。　It's　quite　profitable；　really。〃
　
　〃What　about　the　underwater　laboratory　in　the　cove？　What　do　you　know　about　that？〃
　
　〃I'm　a　busy　man；　Mr。　Austin；　so　I　will　tell　you　the　story；　and　then　we　will　part。　Two　years　ago　somebody　came　to　me。　A　lawyer　from　San　Diego。　He　had　a　proposition。　Someone　wanted　to　build　a　factory。　They　would　pay　for　its　construction；　and　I　would　take　all　the　profits。　There　were　conditions。　It　had　to　be　isolated；　and　it　had　to　be　on　the　water。〃
　
　〃I　want　to　know　what　was　built　in　the　water。〃
　
　〃I　don't　know。　A　large　ship　came。　There　were　guards。　They　brought　something　into　the　cove　and　deliberately　sank　it。　Connections　were　made　to　the　factory。　People　came　and　went。　I　asked　no　questions。〃
　
　〃What　do　you　know　about　the　explosion？〃
　
　He　shrugged。　〃Someone　called　afterward　and　said　not　to　worry。　They　would　make　good　on　my　loss。　That's　all　I　know。　The　police　don't　care。〃　〃This　lawyer　who　handled　the　deal；　what　was　his　name？〃
　
　〃Francis　Xavier　Hanley。　Now　I　must　go。　I　have　told　you　all　I　can。〃
　
　〃Yes；　I　know；　you're　a　busy　man。〃
　
　Pedralez　waved　his　hand。　The　men　got　up　from　the　tables　and　formed　a　corridor　to　the　sidewalk　on　either　side　of　him。　The　Mercedes　appeared　out　of　nowhere；　the　door　opened　with　machinelike　precision。　The　bodyguards　piled　into　two　Jeep　Cherokees　ahead　of　and　behind　the　Mercedes。
　
　〃Mr。　Pedralez；〃　Austin　called　out。　〃A　deal's　a　deal。　You　forgot　the　pistols。〃
　
　Enrico　answered　with　a　mirthless　smile。　〃Keep　them；〃　he　said；　and　added　a　few　more　words。　He　got　into　the　back　of　the　car；　shut　the　door；　and　zoomed　down　the　street。　Austin　was　sweating；　and　it　wasn't　just　from　the　heat。　The　junky　cab　pulled　up　in　front　of　him　and　tooted　the　horn。
　
　Austin　slid　in　the　passenger　side　and　looked　around　in　amazement。　〃Where'd　you　get　this　rig？〃
　
　〃Agent　Gomez　was　nice　enough　to　have　it　waiting　for　me。　It's　got　a　hot　engine　and　all　kinds　of　radio　gear　I　used　to　let　our　friends　know　where　you　were。　I'm　going　to　hate　to　give　it　up。　Did　Mr。　Pedralez　say　anything？〃
　
　Austin　held　up　the　pistol　case。　〃Yeah；　he　told　me　the　next　time　I　came　to　Tijuana　to　be　sure　these　things　are　loaded。〃　He's　killed　people　for　less。〃
　
　〃Look；　Agent　Gomez；　we　haven't　cornered　the　market　on　foolhardiness；〃　Austin　said。　〃We　tried　other　avenues　first。　The　Mexican　police　say　the　steam　pipes　caused　the　blast。　Case　closed。　We　thought　the　owner　might　have　something　to　tell　us；　so　we　called　the　Department　of　merce。　They　did　an　uh…oh；　said　the　plant　was　owned　by　Enrico；　and　suggested　that　we　get　in　touch　with　Gomez　in　the　San　Diego　field　office。　That's　you。　Now　we'd　like　to　take　the　next　step。　Does　he　have　an　office　in　the　U。S。？〃
　
　〃He　won't　cross　the　border。　He　knows　we'll　grab　him。〃
　
　〃Then　we'll　have　to　go　to　him。〃
　
　〃This　won't　be　easy。　Pedralez　used　to　be　a　Mexican　federal　cop；　and　half　the　police　are　on　his　payroll。　They　protect　him　and　turn　over　informants；　petitors；　or　anyone　else　who　might　cause　him　trouble。〃
　
　Gomez　unlocked　a　drawer　in　his　desk。　He　pulled　out　two　thick　files　and　laid　them　on　the　desk　blotter。　〃This　is　the　file　on　Enrico's　dirty　stuff；　and　the　other　has　information　on　his　legal　operations。　He　has　to　launder　that　dirty　money　somewhere；　so　he's　set　up　or　bought　legitimate　businesses　on　both　sides　of　the　Mexican…American　border。　The　tortilla　business　is　the　leader。　Tortillas　have　bee　worth　millions　of　dollars　since　the　U。S。　market　opened　up　and　people　on　this　side　of　the　border　started　eating　the　things。　A　few　panies　control　the　business。　Just　look　in　your　supermarket　if　you　don't　believe　me。　Enrico　used　his　government　connections；　sprinkled　the　bribes　around　to　get　a　piece　of　the　action。〃　He　pushed　the　files　across　the　desk。　〃I　can't　let　this　go　out　of　the　office；　but　you're　wele　to　read　it。〃
　
　Austin　thanked　him　and　took　the　file　into　a　small　conference　room。　He　and　Zavala　sat　on　opposite　sides　of　a　table。　Austin　gave　Joe　the　file　on　the　legal　businesses；　told　him　to　shout　if　he　saw　anything　interesting；　and　begin　to　skim　through　the　other　file。　He　wanted　a　measure　of　the　man　he　might　be　dealing　with。　The　more　he　read；　the　less　he　liked。　He　hadn't　thought　so　much　evil　could　be　poured　into　one　skin。　Enrico　was　responsible　for　hundreds　of　murders；　and　every　one　of　the　executions　had　its　own　grisly　touch。　He　was　glad　when　Zavala　gave　him　the　excuse　to　halt　his　reading。
　
　〃Got　it！〃　Joe　said。　He　rustled　a　couple　of　sheets　of　paper。　〃These　are　background　and　surveillance　reports　on　the　tortilla　factory。　He's　owned　it　a　couple　of　years。　The　FBI　went　down　to　take　a　peek。　Didn't　see　anything　suspicious。　Sounds　like　they　took　the　same　tour　we　did；　except　for　my　little　side　trip。　Report　says　it　seems　like　a　legitimate　operation。〃
　
　〃Nothing　about　the　underwater　facility？〃
　
　Zavala　frowned。　〃Nope。　Not　a　word。〃
　
　〃I'm　not　surprised。　The　installation　could　have　been　floated　in　at　night。〃
　
　〃Plausible。　How　about　your　file？　Did　you　learn　anything？〃
　
　〃Yeah；　that　he's　one　nasty　SOB。　We　still　have　to　talk　to　him。〃
　
　〃Gomez　says　it's　impossible。　Got　any　ideas？〃
　
　〃I　might　have。〃　He　handed　Zavala　a　piece　of　paper　from　his　file。　〃This　is　a　list　of　his　hobbies。　Wine；　women；　racehorses；　gambling；　the　usual　things。　Something　caught　my　eye。〃
　
　Zavala　saw　it　right　away。　〃He　collects　antique　firearms。　Sounds　like　someone　else　I　know。〃
　
　Austin　smiled。　He　was　a　serious　collector　of　dueling　pistols。　The　walls　of　the　old　Potomac　boathouse　where　he　made　his　home　were　covered　with　the　exquisitely　fashioned　instruments　of　death。　He　kept　the　most　valuable　pieces　in　a　vault　and　had　one　of　the　finest　collections　in　the　country。
　
　〃You　remember　the　new　pieces　I　bought　for　my　collection　the　day　before　our　race？　They're　a　fine　pair；　but　they　duplicate　a　brace　I　have。　I　was　planning　to　use　them　in　trade　with　another　collector。〃
　
　Chapter　14
　The　scene　was　so　awe　inspiring　in　its　terrible　beauty　that　Trout　almost　forgot　the　predicament　he　and　Gamay　were　in。　Paul　sat　on　a　rocky　ledge　about　twenty　feet　above　the　lake；　long　legs　dangling　down；　swiveling　his　head　back　and　forth　to　take　in　the　whole　panoramic　sweep。　He　had　to　strain　his　neck　to　see　the　tops　of　the　falls。　Multiple　rainbows　arced　over　the　five　cascades　as　the　sun　caught　the　droplets　of　water　in　the　twisting　vapor　cloud　that　rose　for　hundreds　of　feet。　The　roar　was　like　that　of　a　hundred　distant　loco　motives　at　full　steam。　Trout　wasn't　a　religious　man；　but　if　anything　was　the　Hand　of　God；　he　was　looking　at　it。
　
　A　groan　ended　his　reverie。　〃What　are　you　doing？〃　Gamay　said　with　a　yawn。　She　was　lying　nearby　in　the　shade　of　a　tree。
　
　〃Thinking　what　a　great　place　this　would　be　to　build　a　hotel。〃
　
　〃Ugh；〃　Gamay　said　with　a　scowl。　She　sat　up　and　wiped　the　sweat　from　her　face。　〃Make　sure　you　have　air　conditioning。〃
　
　It　had　rained　briefly　an　hour　before；　and　the　sun　returned　with　a　vengeance。　Their　perch　was　well　shaded　by　trees　and　bushes；　and　they　slept　for　a　time；　but　there　was　no　way　to　escape　the　suffocating　humidity。　Paul　was　the　first　to　awake。
　
　〃I'll　get　you　some　water；〃　Paul　said。　He　fashioned　a　palm　leaf　into　a　cup；　climbed　down　to　the　lake；　and　scooped　up　water　in　the　makeshift　container。　He　spilled　half　the　contents　bringing　it　to　Gamay；　who　was　trying　to　pick　blades　of　grass　from　her　ratty　looking　hair。　She　guzzled　the　water；　her　eyes　closed　in　bliss；　then　passed　what　was　left　to　Paul。
　
　〃Thanks；〃　she　said　with　a　smile。　〃That　was　refreshing。　I　hope　you　won't　mind　if　I　take　a　dip　in　our　water　supply。〃　She　climbed　down　to　the　lake；　plunged　in；　and　swam　out　several　strokes。
　
　Paul　was　thinking　of