THE COMPLETE TRELAWNEY SPY SERIES BOOKS 1–3 three unputdownable spy thrillers by Melville-Ross Antony

Author:Melville-Ross, Antony
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lume Books Historical Spy Thriller Fiction, A Joffe Books Company
Published: 2023-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

The protection Carr had anticipated was introduced in a mixture of Spanish and broken English as the driver’s two cousins. They lived at Mosquera, a village beyond the nearest airstrip, and would be grateful for a lift if this could be permitted.

‘Okay,’ said Herrick, Carr added ‘Why not?’ and the driver said ‘Muy bien. Gracias.’

One of them got in the front beside the driver, the other between Carr and Herrick in the back. Carr settled himself down to sleep. He expected no trouble during the drive and the smell of the man sitting next to him was something he would be glad to be unaware of. When the car stopped beside the airstrip’s small office building he awoke. Dawn was breaking hesitantly and his watch told him that he had slept for two and a half hours.

He got out of the car, walking away from it and the smell, leaving Herrick to bargain with the driver. Before he reached the building, the door opened and a man came out hitching up his trousers with some difficulty because of the rifle he was carrying. Eventually he had them settled above his hips to his satisfaction and took the rifle in both hands, looking past Carr at the group around the taxi.

‘Good morning,’ Carr said and the man continued to stare past him.

‘Habla Usted inglés?’ Carr asked, expending half his Spanish vocabulary and getting no more reaction than he had done before. Only when he raised his arms, made flapping motions with them and said ‘Barrancabermeja?’ did the eyes flick towards him and immediately away again.

Carr stood waiting, relaxed, until he heard doors slam, the engine start and the taxi move away, then he turned to see Herrick approaching.

The man with the rifle said, ‘You armed?’

‘No.’

‘Take off your jacket, turn around and roll your pants up over your knees.’

Carr offered no resistance and Herrick followed his lead.

The man said, ‘So all right, you’re clean and I fly you to Barrancabermeja. I don’t want no trouble with Ratshelm. You tell him I treated you fair. I just don’t want my plane hijacked into his goddam army is all.’

He turned away and they followed him around the building to where an old single-engined ‘Beaver’ was parked.

‘Who’s Ratshelm?’ Carr asked.

‘Oh sure!’ the American bush pilot said. ‘I don’t know him neither. Ask those three guys who brought you.’

Apart from the pilot’s inaudible exchanges with the control tower at Barrancabermeja, nobody spoke again until they climbed down on to the shimmering tarmac of the airport. It was still early in the day, but Carr could feel the heat beating at his head and shoulders and clawing through the soles of his shoes.

‘How much?’ he asked.

The pilot squinted at him in the sun’s glare. ‘Nothin’,’ he said. ‘And you tell that to Ratshelm too.’

Herrick watched while the pilot clambered back into the cabin of the plane, but Carr strolled away in the direction of the reception lounge, indifferent to the fear that Ratshelm apparently instilled in others, wondering what it was they felt and why they should feel it.

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