The Five Arrows

  _Chapter fourteen_

  The black Packard roared out of the subterranean garage of thePresidencia, shot out to the Avenida de la Liberacion. Hall and Jerry,in the back seat, looked behind them at the second Packard which carriedtheir convoy of guards. "They have enough tommy guns back there to blowup anyone who makes a pass at us," he said. "And the two boys in thefront seat can throw plenty of lead."

  "It's like a gangster movie," Jerry said.

  "That shooting in your room this morning was no movie. I've never seen adeader Nazi than the late Wilhelm Androtten, alias X."

  "What's going to happen to us now, Matt?"

  "Don't worry."

  "I am worried. I want to know."

  The two cars pulled up at the doctor's house. Maria Luisa, Gonzales'fourteen-year-old daughter, met them at the door. "I am preparing somesandwiches," she said. "Father said you were famished."

  They waited in the living room while the girl worked in the kitchen."You're too hot in San Hermano," Hall said.

  "Not yet. They don't know what happened to Androtten. I can just go onbeing Ansaldo's nurse until ..."

  "Forget it," he snapped. "This isn't for amateurs any longer. And you'restill an amateur, baby."

  "Then what do you suggest I do?"

  "You're going back to the States with a bodyguard on the next plane outof here. You're waiting for me in Miami. I'll give you a letter to oneof the chiefs of Military Intelligence there. You'll be safe."

  "How about you?"

  "I'll meet you in two weeks. Three weeks at the outside."

  "I won't do it, Matt. I'm staying here with you."

  "But I won't be here all the time."

  "Then I'll wait here for you."

  "Baby, listen." He took out a package of American cigarettes, put one inher mouth, lit it. "Ladies don't smoke in San Hermano. You can smokeuntil you hear anyone coming. Then hand it to me. Now, sit down like agood girl, and for God's sake, listen carefully. There's a job I've gotto do. It's my job alone. I've got to do it alone. I had an idea thatbefore I was through here I'd have to do it. But Tabio's last words werespoken in English and they were to me, and baby, as soon as he stoppedtalking I knew what I had to do."

  Hall quoted the President's words about the power of Truth. "And he wasright," he said. "I remember what happened when I got out of the can inSpain. I went back to Paris to get some rest. Tabio was in Geneva,packing his things to go home. I found out he was still there and I wentto see him before he left. He was going home to run for President sothat this country shouldn't become a second Spain.

  "I remember telling him that the thing which kept me alive in Franco'sprison was my feeling that a miracle would happen--that the little guysin England and France would force the appeasers to sell guns to theRepublic, or that Russia would be able to fly some heavy bombers acrossFrance for Madrid, or that Roosevelt would open his eyes and lift thedamned embargo, or anything. Any good miracle like these, even a tinyone, would have saved the day. And I went to sleep every day sure thateach morning I'd wake up closer to the day this miracle would happen,and that some morning I'd wake up and find that the people somewhereoutside of Spain had performed this miracle.

  "I remember the way Tabio listened to me speak, and how when I was donehe said that the miracle I wanted all that time was that the truthshould get to the people. It was that simple. And he was dead right.It's exactly what he did in his own country, and you know how the peoplelove him for it."

  Jerry looked puzzled. "But what do you propose to do?"

  "Look," he said. "It's a matter of days at most before the whole nationwill be mourning Tabio. The Constitution says that within thirty daysafter the President dies, there must be a general election. I have anidea that the race will be between Gamburdo and someone like Lavandero.Both will claim that they are Tabio's real choice as a successor. If Ican get to Havana, I can dig up the truth about Gamburdo and Ansaldo ina matter of days. I'm sure of it. If it's anywhere at all, it's inHavana. Gamburdo is taking public credit for trying to save Tabio's lifeby bringing Ansaldo to San Hermano. The truth can make this boomerang inhis face."

  "Can't I help in any way?"

  Hall stopped short. "Do you know what you're asking? That scrape in thehotel this morning was nothing compared to the things you're asking forif you stay. Even if Gamburdo is licked, it's only the beginning."

  "But you're sticking it out, aren't you?"

  "I have to. I've been in it since Madrid. There's no escaping it for me.I'll never know any peace until the crime of Spain is liquidated.Fascism isn't just an ideological enemy for me, baby. It's a cancerburning in my own, my very personal guts. I'd go off my conk if mineweren't two of the billion fists that are smashing and will go onsmashing back at fascism until it's deader than Willie Androtten. I'venever stopped to think of what my chances are of being alive at thefinish. All I know is that if I stopped fighting it I'd die."

  "Let me stay," Jerry pleaded. "I'd be a liar if I said that's the way Ifelt, too. But the war came to me this morning at the end of Androtten'sgun, darling. I can't escape it any more than you can now."

  * * * * *

  They had an early dinner with Gonzales and his daughter, avoiding allserious discussion until Lavandero arrived. The Minister of Educationbrought grim news: Anibal Tabio had suffered a second stroke and wasdying.

  "Where is Ansaldo?" Hall asked.

  "He is still on the ranch of Gamburdo's brother. He is waiting for ananswer to his ultimatum. Don Anibal's condition is still a secret."

  "But Esteban," Gonzales said, "we cannot keep it a secret. You will beaccused of murdering Don Anibal if Gamburdo finds out."

  "I know. I've asked Segador to come. I wanted to bring Simon Tabio, buthe refuses to leave the room while his father still breathes. What doyou think, _Companero_ Hall? What is the first thing we have to do? Bythe way, does the senorita speak Spanish?"

  "No. I will tell her what she should know later."

  "Is she reliable?"

  "I hope to marry her--if I am alive in three weeks."

  Jerry looked at Hall's face and blushed. "I'll bet you just told himabout us," she said.

  "My felicitations," Lavandero said, in English. He gave her his hand."But with your permission, we must speak in Spanish."

  Hall told Lavandero and Gonzales his plan about Havana. "I was going todo it in any event if Duarte didn't hear from his friends in Mexico."

  "But why Havana?"

  "Because Havana was the base headquarters in the Western Hemisphere forall Falangist work. The boys in the Casa de la Cultura and on the staffof _Ahora_ worked with the Batista government to break it up. Theyarrested the key leaders, but even though they had to let them go backto Spain, they took their confidential files away from them."

  "And you think that Ansaldo will turn up in these files?"

  "It is something we must not overlook."

  "There is someone at the door," Gonzales said. "Wait." He slipped thesafety of the automatic in his pocket, and went to the door with hishand on the gun.

  "Be tranquil," Gonzales announced. "It is Diego."

  The Major Diego Segador who walked into the room was quite a differentcreature from the mournful-visaged officer in the neat uniform Hall hadmet at the barracks. He wore a gray civilian suit, whose jacket was atleast four sizes too small for his broad frame, yellow box-toe shoes andan incongruous striped silk shirt. The discolored flat straw hat hecarried in his tremendous square hands completed the picture whichimmediately came to Hall's mind: a vision of Diego Segador as a toughsteel-worker on a holiday in Youngstown, Ohio, during the twenties.

  "You look," said Gonzales, "like a Gallego grocer on his way to HighMass."

  "That's enough," Lavandero said sharply, "Don Anibal is dying."

  The blood rose to Segador's head. "No!" he shouted.

  "Sit down, Diego."

  Gonzales opened a cabinet and took out a bottle of brandy. He shouted tothe kitchen for his daug
hter to bring glasses.

  "Major," Hall said, "this is Miss Olmstead."

  "Hello," Segador said, in English. "You have close shave, no?"

  All the men had brandy. Jerry merely looked at the bottle with greatlonging.

  "Well then, Diego," Lavandero said, "minutes count now. Hall has a plan.It is a good one." He described it for the Major. "If he comes back withpictures of Ansaldo in the uniform of the Falange, we will have to floodthe country with them. They will not look nice next to the pictures ofAnsaldo embracing Gamburdo, no?"

  "They will look very nice--for us. But how is Hall going to get toHavana?"

  "By plane. Why?"

  "Why? Because you are a marked man, Hall."

  "Get me to the border, then. I'll get to Havana from across the border."

  "Not on your passport," Segador said. "It is too risky. Tomas, you havea passport, no? Never mind. All right, then, Hall. You go on a passportmade out to Vicente, but with your picture on it. I'll drive you northby car. You board a plane in San Martin Province--there's one that meetsthe Clipper for Miami. The mining men use it. You travel to Havana asone of our nationals, one Emilio Vicente. Then the officials of your owngovernment in San Juan won't ..." He stopped suddenly, filled his glasswith brandy, and drank it in one short gulp.

  "Out with it, Major," Hall said. "What are you hiding?"

  "Hiding?"

  "About me and my government?"

  "Nothing. It's just that you are too well known as Matthew Hall. You areknown by face in San Juan. Perhaps, when you land there to refuel,someone will recognize you. And then there will be trouble about yourVicente passport. Perhaps--one cannot be too careful."

  Hall knew that the Major was concealing something from him, somethingthat had to do with himself. He thought of his low standing at theAmerican Embassy, and of some of the fascists in high places he hadoffended in San Juan. "Yes," he said, "I think you are right." This, hedecided, was not the time to start new trouble.

  "No," Lavandero said, "it is no good. We shall need another passport for_Companero_ Hall."

  "How can we get it?" Segador asked. "There is no time."

  "There is time," Lavandero said, evenly. "Duarte is preparing a passportand papers for Hall. Diplomatic. He will travel as Victor Ortiz Tinoco,official courier of the Mexican Government."

  "When did he start on the papers?" Hall asked.

  "A few hours ago. He thought you might want to make the trip."

  "Why didn't you tell me before this?"

  Lavandero's face softened. "My dear friend," he said, "what you areundertaking is no minor task. The complications are enormous. If you arecaught, you face much legal trouble at the very least; death byviolence, if the fascists catch you first. You are under no obligationsto this Republic. I had to hear it from your lips first."

  "When can I start?"

  "In two hours. You will have to give me your passport, so that I mayhave the picture copied for the Ortiz Tinoco papers. Segador's idea isthe right one. He will drive you to the San Martin airport tonight. TheMexican Embassy is ordering the tickets. I will leave you with Gonzalesand Segador to work out the rest of the details."

  "Good. Here is my passport."

  "The Republic will always be grateful to you, _Companero_ Hall."Lavandero stood up and started for the door. Hall accompanied him.

  "Well," Hall said, "I'll try to get back within the week--if I'm lucky."He held out his hand to the Minister.

  "Thank you, _companero_." Lavandero raised his arms to Hall's shouldersand embraced him. "You were worthy of his trust."

  "And you of his love," Hall answered. He was sorry for Lavandero, sorryfor him as a friend, as a man, as a leader so intent on answering hisresponsibilities to his moment in history that he had to allow his ownpersonal rages to simmer unattended within him until there again came atime when a man could walk off alone and be his own master.

  "I will see you in a week, _companero_."

  Hall walked back to the living room. Segador was trying to convey toJerry his impressions of Atlantic City in 1919. "Womans _bonitas_," hewas shouting, "whisky bad. Much bad. I have young years, much money.Well, well. So."

  "We'll listen to your memoirs when I get back," Hall said.

  "When we get back," Segador said.

  "You're coming with me?"

  "I'm meeting you on your way back. We'll meet in Caracas. Listen to me,_companero_. The chief of our Air Force is loyal. He will give me one ofour American bombers. From the San Martin airport, a bomber can makeCaracas in fifteen hours. Give me ten hours' notice, and I will meet youin time. I already have a loyal flying crew standing by for my orders."

  "Where can we meet in Caracas?"

  "At the airport. I can meet your plane."

  "Won't you be followed?"

  "Of course. By three or four of my picked men. Don't worry about that."

  Gonzales interrupted to say that there would be time for them to havedinner at the house before starting on the drive north.

  "Oh, while we're at it," Hall said, "I am going to ask you to be goodenough to keep my _novia_ here until I return. That is, if Segadorthinks it is safe."

  "It is safe," the Major grunted. "We will make it safe."

  "Then it is the privilege of my daughter and myself to make this housethe senorita's for a century." Gonzales called his daughter in from thekitchen. "It will be very good for her, _amigos_. Maria Luisa isstudying English in high school. It will help her greatly."

  "Let her teach Jerry Spanish in a week," Hall said.

  The girl seemed pleased when her father told her about Jerry. "Oh,nice," she said, trying out her English immediately. "You are verywelcome, Aunt. The pleasure it is all of mine."

  "You are very kind," Jerry said.

  "Please. May I show you the room? There are five rooms upstairs in myfather's house. Your room faces the ..." She paused, flustered, turnedto Hall. "_Como se dice, por favor, frente con vista al mar?_"

  "Tell her that her room _faces the ocean front_, Maria Luisa. And teachher two words of Spanish for every word you learn from her."

  "Let's go," Jerry said to the girl. "Vamoose _arriba, si_?"

  "Under no circumstances," Segador said when the girls were gone, "mustyou attempt to come back by regular routes. If anything happens to me,wait at the border. Get to Santiago by plane, and wait in the big hotelfor word from us."

  "How bad is it for me?"

  "Who knows? The fascists are mother-raping bastards, but they are nodonkeys. Today they must be looking for you in San Hermano. In a fewhours, they will begin to worry. Tomorrow they will become upset becauseyou are gone, and by tomorrow night they will turn the whole Cross andSword gang loose to look for you. But by tomorrow night, if all goeswell, and if that madman of a Duarte doesn't try to drive the carhimself but brings his driver along, you will be in Havana.

  "Of course," Segador said, "we will do everything we can to end thehunt. But we can only do the usual things. Perhaps we will identify thebody of some poor Hermanito who gets killed by a car as Matthew Hall.Give me some papers, by the way; we'll need them if we can get the rightbody."

  "Lavandero has my American passport. And here's my wallet. That's goodenough." Hall took the three photos out of the wallet. "The pictures arefor her--if I don't come back."

  "And the money?"

  Hall flipped his fingers through the eight hundred-odd dollars worth oftravelers' checks. "I'd better sign these, just in case," he said. "Iwant you to split it between Pepe Delgado and Emilio Vicente."

  "I understand," Segador said. "Duarte is bringing some money for you totravel on."

  "I'll repay him when I return. Is there anything else I should know? Ihave to write a letter. Have you any paper, doctor?"

  "In a moment."

  "Just a few things," Segador said. "A simple code for sending messagesto us." He explained the code system in a few minutes. "And one otherthing. I have the pictures we took of that Nazi Vicente shot; picturesof his face and his finge
rprints. We will seal them in the pouch you arecarrying. Perhaps you can identify it in Havana somehow."

  "I will try. Ah, thanks for the paper. This will take me only a fewminutes." Hall propped the writing pad on his lap and wrote a short noteto his attorney in New York.

  "Well, this is it," he wrote, "and I'll be more surprised than you areif you ever receive this letter. I'm about to leave this country on whatmight turn out to be a one-way trip to the grave. If I don't come back,this letter is to be sent to you. It's about my will. I still want thedough to go to the Spanish refugees and the veterans of theInternational Brigades, but I want to lop off about a quarter of thetotal in the bank and due me from Bird and leave it for Miss GeraldineOlmstead. She is an American citizen and, if you hadn't received thisnote, would by now be Mrs. H. When you meet her, introduce her to myfriends and take her around to the Committee; she wants to help theSpanish Republicans. If I really thought this was my last trip, I guessI'd close this letter with some appropriate and high-sounding lastlines--you know, the kind of crap a guy would write as the lead for hisown obit. But we'll skip the farewell address. This letter is beingwitnessed by two good friends, one a doctor and the other a major inthis country. I guess that makes it legal."

  Hall signed the letter, told Gonzales and Segador what he wanted donewith it, and handed them the pen. "How much time do we have?" he asked.

  "You will have to leave in less than two hours," Segador said. "Duartewill be here long before then."

  "Good." Hall looked at his watch. "I would like to see the girl alone inher room for a while. There is much that I must tell her before I go."

  "I understand," Segador said.

  "Are you making the trip to San Martin with me?"

  "No. I will only ride the first twenty miles with you. I have a carwaiting for me at Marao."

  Hall waited for Gonzales to call his daughter, and then he went up toJerry's room.