The Kremlin File

The firing stopped. The mirror showed Jerome and his troops running for cars parked around the hotel entrance. We were still a long way from home. At the boulevard I skidded the rear wheels for the turn, straightened out and tramped the gas pedal against the floor. The truck was powered to carry heavy loads but not built for racing. We had a head start, but not enough to outrun the colonel.

We were past the shuttered city, bearing on Noah’s hotel, with decisions to make. I couldn’t beat Jerome on the shore highway. The choice was between hiding the truck in the old hotel’s shed and holing up inside or tackling the goat trail over the mountains. I thought the colonel probably knew about Noah’s use of the place and could trap us there. He wouldn’t even need to risk a fight. The building was tinder. He could burn it around us.

So it was the mountain trail. Our heavy truck could probably grind through the potholes with less damage than the lighter cars behind us, and they couldn’t cover the ground any faster than I.

Their headlights hadn’t picked us up by the time we hit the turn. I cut our lights, threw the wheel over, and was out of sight in the jungle growth when two jeeps clattered past on the highway. That was just fine with me. I stopped, took the flashlight out of its bracket, and went around to investigate the back of the truck. Maybe Lambie had dropped his gun inside. My ammo was running low.

There was no gun among the clutter of rope, shovels, excavation equipment, and three crates. As I turned away, the light beam fell on a stenciled word on a box. “Dyamite.” With a hand on the tailgate, I swung over it. The box was open and some of the sticks were gone, but most of them were still bedded in the sawdust packing.

Colonel Jerome wouldn’t go far on the highway when he saw I was not ahead of him. He would be back. And now I could be ready for him. We were a hundred yards into the jungle track. I dropped out of the truck, worked as I ran back toward the intersection, and had a charge put together by the time Jerome’s jeeps showed up. They came fast, made the turn, their lights sweeping over me where I crouched in the brush. Then they discovered the dark truck and bumped toward it with triumphant yells. As the lead car came on, I fit the fuse. When it went by, I threw the stick in the rear seat and dropped flat, burying my nose in the vines.

The explosion was immediate and close. The shock wave picked me up and threw me back in the road, stunned but in better condition than the men who’d been in the car. I lay dragging breath, hearing Tara’s voice and the sound of her feet as she came running toward me. I got up before I wanted to, waving her back, seeing the deep crater blown out of the road. Behind me a second jeep was nearing the turn. The girl and I made it to our truck, were in gear and moving when the jeep jammed to a stop at the crater. The rear-view mirror showed me Jerome’s tall figure scrambling to the ground, standing in the lights. Lead reached for us, fell short, and we pulled away.

Tara was all questions. I explained my find, bent to kiss her briefly while I fought the road.

“We’re all right now,” I told her. “They can’t come past that hole unless they cut some trees, and that’ll take awhile. Just set yourself for a roller-coaster ride.”

In the dark I almost rammed a tree at a turn. That made me realize we needed light to drive by and I switched them on. My watch showed me the night was waning. By the time we reached the roughest spots, there should be enough dawn to help. Under the roof of leaves where we were now there was only blackness, my headlights tunneling through. We ground ahead, Tara hanging onto the door to keep from being tossed against the top of the cab. She took it in silence for some miles, then gave me an apologetic laugh.

“Nick, I do believe I’m not cut out for this. I came on like gangbusters at the idea of coming here to help Dr. Fleming. It seemed very romantic.” Her laugh was embarrassed. “Now I see what it’s really like.”

“You learn if you’re in it.” I grinned at her.

So she was scared, talking to build herself up. We were coming to the top and she was going to be more scared. It gave me a very good excuse for relaxing both of us. I cut the motor. It was very quiet. I got down, opened Tara’s door and pulled her out. I led her into the bright beam ahead of the truck where I could see that we wouldn’t bed down on a snake or a porcupine. I took her in my arms.

Fright can be a very good aphrodisiac. Her mouth was as hungry as mine. Her body moved under my hands in a long undulating caress.

It was a long time before we collapsed, spent. But we couldn’t stay here. We stood up and I kissed her forehead. In the truck again, I smiled. “Feel better?”