Read Online 13 - The Rainbow Affair by David McDaniel - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David McDaniel
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Specks of light danced before his eyes for a moment, and he raised a shaking hand to steady himself again.
Judging from the vibration, they were going at a pretty good clip. It would be pointless to use one of the little 'skeleton keys' - the tiny lumps of thermite with a manually ignited fuse which would make slag of the sturdiest lock in seconds - to blow open the door of the van; probably be better to wait until they arrived wherever they were going, and the doors were opened. For one thing, he believed in letting the opposition do as much of the work as possible, and for another, he had several questions he wanted to ask somebody.
He settled back to rest and wait.
He was awakened again a short time later as the truck lurched violently to the left and began to bounce about as though it had just left the road. It went slower and slower, making many turns, and eventually lumbered to a stop. Napoleon rose stiffly to a crouch just inside the back doors.
Several seconds later there were clanking noises around the area of the latch, and he tensed his aching muscles for the leap. He remembered to squint his eyes just at the instant the doors swung open and a flood of daylight rushed in upon him.
There were two men, both with automatics, standing a few feet below him, on the ground. While their light-accustomed eyes peered into the darkness of the truck, Napoleon was gauging their distances and angles from him. Before they had more than realized their prisoner was crouched just within the door instead of flopped against a wall, he had leaped out upon them, flailing arms and yelling.
But his bruised leg betrayed him as he landed, and buckled as he tried to sprint for cover. Before he could regain his balance the guns were leveled at him, and a patient voice was saying, "Back on your feet, now, and try not to fall over again."
Napoleon slowly worked himself upright, and looked around at his captors. "What exactly is going on here?" he finally asked.
"You've been wanting to find out about Johnnie Rainbow," said the patient one, "so Johnnie has decided to find out more about you. The difference is he knew where to find you."
"Couldn't he have found out without bringing me in for a personal interview?"
"Possibly he thought you could tell him more. I don't make policy for the gang, I just do what I'm told. You should try it… you'll find it makes life ever so much simpler. You can start by walking over there."
"Over there" was the edge of a cliff, and somewhere far beyond the grassy knoll that led up to it Napoleon could hear and smell the sea. As he crossed the twenty-odd yards and climbed to the brink, he saw a wooden railing and a small platform which turned out to be the top of a flight of steps zigzagging down the face of the cliff to a narrow strip of pebbly beach some seventy-five or a hundred feet below him. A small motor launch bobbed on the water of the little cove, and figures were visible moving about the after deck.
Napoleon looked down at it and murmured, "A floating headquarters? Ingenious, but restrictive."
"That's not headquarters, you nit," said the second man. "That's a boat. Come on - down the stairs. They're perfectly safe."
"After you," Napoleon said, stepping back politely.
"But we insist," said the first. "After all, you're the guest of honor. Remember, if we'd wanted to kill you we've had plenty of chances. If you'll cooperate it'll make things easier all around - I don't especially want to have to carry you down these steps, and you likely don't want another clout on the head."
Solo felt the back of his skull carefully, and agreed. He brought his hand down unexpectedly in a crisp chop across the wrist of the nearer man, and one gun flipped into the undergrowth. At the same time his opposite leg flashed up and caught the other man's gun hand in a demonstration of coordination that would win applause on any vaudeville stage. This audience seemed singularly displeased with it, however, and let
Judging from the vibration, they were going at a pretty good clip. It would be pointless to use one of the little 'skeleton keys' - the tiny lumps of thermite with a manually ignited fuse which would make slag of the sturdiest lock in seconds - to blow open the door of the van; probably be better to wait until they arrived wherever they were going, and the doors were opened. For one thing, he believed in letting the opposition do as much of the work as possible, and for another, he had several questions he wanted to ask somebody.
He settled back to rest and wait.
He was awakened again a short time later as the truck lurched violently to the left and began to bounce about as though it had just left the road. It went slower and slower, making many turns, and eventually lumbered to a stop. Napoleon rose stiffly to a crouch just inside the back doors.
Several seconds later there were clanking noises around the area of the latch, and he tensed his aching muscles for the leap. He remembered to squint his eyes just at the instant the doors swung open and a flood of daylight rushed in upon him.
There were two men, both with automatics, standing a few feet below him, on the ground. While their light-accustomed eyes peered into the darkness of the truck, Napoleon was gauging their distances and angles from him. Before they had more than realized their prisoner was crouched just within the door instead of flopped against a wall, he had leaped out upon them, flailing arms and yelling.
But his bruised leg betrayed him as he landed, and buckled as he tried to sprint for cover. Before he could regain his balance the guns were leveled at him, and a patient voice was saying, "Back on your feet, now, and try not to fall over again."
Napoleon slowly worked himself upright, and looked around at his captors. "What exactly is going on here?" he finally asked.
"You've been wanting to find out about Johnnie Rainbow," said the patient one, "so Johnnie has decided to find out more about you. The difference is he knew where to find you."
"Couldn't he have found out without bringing me in for a personal interview?"
"Possibly he thought you could tell him more. I don't make policy for the gang, I just do what I'm told. You should try it… you'll find it makes life ever so much simpler. You can start by walking over there."
"Over there" was the edge of a cliff, and somewhere far beyond the grassy knoll that led up to it Napoleon could hear and smell the sea. As he crossed the twenty-odd yards and climbed to the brink, he saw a wooden railing and a small platform which turned out to be the top of a flight of steps zigzagging down the face of the cliff to a narrow strip of pebbly beach some seventy-five or a hundred feet below him. A small motor launch bobbed on the water of the little cove, and figures were visible moving about the after deck.
Napoleon looked down at it and murmured, "A floating headquarters? Ingenious, but restrictive."
"That's not headquarters, you nit," said the second man. "That's a boat. Come on - down the stairs. They're perfectly safe."
"After you," Napoleon said, stepping back politely.
"But we insist," said the first. "After all, you're the guest of honor. Remember, if we'd wanted to kill you we've had plenty of chances. If you'll cooperate it'll make things easier all around - I don't especially want to have to carry you down these steps, and you likely don't want another clout on the head."
Solo felt the back of his skull carefully, and agreed. He brought his hand down unexpectedly in a crisp chop across the wrist of the nearer man, and one gun flipped into the undergrowth. At the same time his opposite leg flashed up and caught the other man's gun hand in a demonstration of coordination that would win applause on any vaudeville stage. This audience seemed singularly displeased with it, however, and let
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