«Goddamn your essential truth!» said Devereaux, throwing his martini into the sink. «Let’s get out of here!»
«The police, General! I’m a respected man here in Boston. Surely they will protect us.»
«Commander Pinkus, in this out-of-sanction combat, civilian authorities are useless. How the hell do you think I blew up depots from Normandy to Kai Song?»
«I simply can’t believe it,» said Redwing, trying to remain calm. «I won’t believe it!»
«You won’t believe it, little Injun filly? Perhaps I should remind you of the Eastern companies who promised your people throughout the Midwest plains that they were being moved to far better lands where all you found was arid soil and your cattle froze. It’s no different, young lady!»
«Oh, Jesus!» cried Jennifer, racing to the bedroom door.
«What are you doing?» yelled Devereaux.
«Your mother, you idiot!»
«Oh, yes, of course,» said Sam, blinking. «Is there any coffee around?»
«No time, son!»
«Help Miss Redwing, Sammy.»
«At least we’re out of Samuel—»
«I don’t think there’s a choice,» said Aaron Pinkus.
The five fugitives from the Ritz-Carlton stood side by side at the southeast corner of the hotel waiting for the arrival of Desi One and Two. They smiled inanely at several passersby, doing their best not to appear like a quintet of adult delinquents. The grand Eleanor was held up by Redwing as the former kept struggling with the words of the «Indian Love Call.»
«Shut up, Mother!» whispered Sam.
«This is the daughter I’ve always wanted—»
«Put it on hold, Mom. She may be a better lawyer than me, and you wouldn’t want that.»
«I don’t think you’re so hot. Half the time I can’t understand you—»
«You’re not supposed to, Mother. That’s the law—»
«Quiet!» ordered the Hawk, nearest the edge of the building, Pinkus at his side. A Lincoln town car had swung in front of the canopied entrance of the hotel as, simultaneously, Desis One and Two plunged into the curb with their two hotwired cars from the parking lot. «Everybody hold it!» continued Hawkins as he and Aaron watched four men in black raincoats climb out of the Lincoln, one from the front and three from the rear seat. The car instantly sped away and parked by the gates of the Public Garden as the four black raincoats walked rapidly into the hotel. «D-One, front and center!» said the Hawk in a loud whisper. «Repeat down the line!» he added.
«D-One, front and center—»
«Desi! You with the crazy teeth and the curled-up shirt, get out here!» cried Devereaux. «Go to Mac!»
«Mizerloo, my Arab love who is my deseerloo—»
«Shut up, Mother! You’ve got the wrong words and the wrong country anyway.»
«Don’t talk to my friend, Eleanor, that way—»
«She’s my mother! Suppose I refused to have her Jaguar fixed?»
«I’m sure I make a hell of a lot more money than you do, Counselor. I’ll take care of it!»
«Wad chu want, Heneral?»
«See that car over there? The one in front of those gates.»
«Sure, I see. A gringo’s sitting in the front.»
«I want him immobilized, the car incapacitated, do you understand what I’m saying?»
«Ees not so hard. He goes to sleep and I rip out the plugs—ees done every night in Brooklyn. Unless you want him dead, which, frankly, Heneral, I do not do.»
«Hell, no! I want to send back a message. They want our asses blown up, boy, and I want ’em to know they can’t do it!»
«Ees done, Heneral. Den what?»
«Come back to the hotel, to Mr. Pinkus’s floor, but cover your flanks. Four men in dumb black raincoats went up to waste all of us… By the time you get there, I’ll probably have removed at least three of the bastards, but you make sure of the fourth.»
«Hey! Why chu have all the fun? I’ll take t’ree, chu take one!»
«I like your spirit, son.»
«Wad about Desi-Two?»
«I’m about to explain,» said Hawkins, turning to Aaron Pinkus. «Tell me, Commander, have you got some place nobody knows about, like a hideaway where you take, say, underprivileged women who might enjoy your company?»
«Are you crazy! You don’t know Shirley!»
«All right, I understand… But there must be someplace off the beaten track where we can stay for a day or two.»
«Well, the firm bought a ski lodge across the New Hampshire border because a very reliable client ran into terribly difficult times—the snow has been very irregular—»
«That’s fine! We’ll join you there.»
«But how will you know where it is?»
«Das simple, Comandante,» intruded Desi the First. «D-Two wired only automobiles dat had teléfonos inside. We wrote down the números for both.» D-One pulled out a torn sheet of paper with two sets of numbers written across it. «See? My amigo, he has the same as dis.»
«You two are really remarkable. I would very much like it if you’d call me—»
«No time for medals, Commander!» interrupted the Hawk firmly. «Our mission’s not finished. Take Sam, his mother, and the Indian girl up to your place in New Hampshire. Now, get out of here! My sergeant and I have work to do!»
The first two black raincoats never knew what happened. Each, to secure escape routes, stood by the exit doors and each in turn was taken from the staircase by the Hawk, rendered unconscious and stripped of all clothing, including his shorts. The third would-be assassin inched his way toward the Pinkus suite, only to be interrupted by a wavering, swiveling drunk, who, once past the killer’s body, swung around and delivered an immobilizing chi sai chop to the back of his neck. The fourth and last assassin Hawkins left to his adjutant, Desi the First. It was, after all, the responsibility of command to instill confidence in his immediate support troops. Actually, it turned out to be a lesson in patience, the mark of a truly superior deep-cover intelligence field man, thought Mac. He waited in the shadows of the exit door, behind which lay the unconscious, naked first killer from SFI. D-One silently emerged from the elevator in his white tie and tails and walked, again silently, halfway down the hallway, then pressed his back against the wall across from the Pinkus suite. For what seemed like the better part of an hour, but in reality was barely eight minutes, Desi the First remained immobile, barely breathing, and then a door opened two doors to his left and a man in a black raincoat came out, an automatic in his hand.
«¡Iguana, José!» roared D-One, taking the would-be killer by such surprise that he never knew how the weapon was kicked out of his hand; nor would he ever know how he was rendered unconscious by a swift, hard fist in the middle of his forehead.
«Outstanding!» said the general, walking out of the shadows. «I knew it was in you, son.»
«Why didn’t chu do it, for Christ’s sake?»
«On-scene evaluation, boy! It’s how we all get ahead.»
«I coulda been killed!»