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Operation Breakthrough
Dan J Marlowe
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eBook - ePub
Operation Breakthrough
Dan J Marlowe
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About This Book
Drake had the assignment. He was sent to steal confidential files of the Mafia that had been stashed somewhere in a bank vault on an island in the Bahamas.Drake got the files.He also got himself trapped into a deadly private warāwith the Syndicate, the local police, and a gang of freelance assassins.The only man who could help him out of the trap was being held incommunicadoābehind the thick walls of a Bahamian prison.Breaking out of jail was something Drake knew about. Breaking in was something else again ā¦
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THREE
I DRIED myself vigorously with a coarse towel, wrapped its dampness around my waist, and went in search of Candy.
Outside the bathroom door I almost ran into Chen Yi, the Chinese girl. It was something of a relief to find that at least her six-foot, four-inch presence had been no dream. She had on another high-necked garment of some gauzy material, barely opaque, but this one reached her ankles. āGood morning,ā I said. āOr is it afternoon?ā
āEarly afternoon,ā she replied. āIāve brought you a set of Candyās underwear.ā She removed it from her arm and handed it to me. I noticed for the first time that despite her size, her voice had a musical, little girl tinkle to it.
āJust what I need,ā I assured her. āI appreciate it.ā
She smiled, but her eyes were upon my body above the damp towel fastened at my waist. She made no comment about my body scars, though. āIāve pressed your suit for you,ā she continued.
āThat wasnāt necessary,ā I protested halfheartedly. A freshly pressed suit would help a good deal in avoiding attention when I left Candyās. I wondered if Chen Yi had noticed the lack of labels.
I returned to the bathroom with Candyās underwear. His choice ran to bold colors and wild patterns, but the fresh material felt welcome. I went back into the room I had come to think of as the Incense Room and found my freshly shined shoes at one end of the couch with a new pair of socks draped across them. My pressed suit rested on the back of the couch. The hospitality in Candyās apartment almost was embarrassing in its thoroughness.
I pulled on socks and shoes and sat down on the couch opposite the end marked by a slight lumpiness where I had hidden the canvas sack with the papers from the bankās safe deposit boxes. If I followed the script, Iād get to the private airstrip and meet the escape plane. There Iād turn the canvas sack with its contents over to someone named Baker.
I hoped that Baker knew me because I surely didnāt know him.
Iād never learned which government agency employed Karl Erikson. There were times when Iād suspected he was a troubleshooter for more than one agency, doing special government jobs on assignment. The only other man who worked with Erikson who was more than a nameless face to me was Jock McLaren. Heād been with Erikson and me on the recovery of an AEC shipment, a job which used an import office on Fifth Avenue in New York City as a cover for the retrieval effort.
But if I left the island now, there was Karl Erikson himself.
Right now he was undoubtedly lodged in the Bahamian equivalent of maximum security. He had made a point of emphasizing, as he always did on these jobs, that we were strictly on our own if anything went wrong. Now that it had, no US consul was about to step around to the Nassau brig and inquire about Karl Eriksonās welfare.
No one knew he was there except me.
He had been emphatic about that contingency, too. āIf only one of us makes it, thereāll be no looking back by the survivor,ā heād said to me on the darkened jet which had flown us from Andrews Field when the pilot began to circle the cluster of lights that was Nassau below us in the black water. āThe whole purpose is to get what weāre after into the right hands.ā
Which was fine ā business as usual ā except that I recalled at least twice when heād violated the rule himself. Once in Cuba heād come back across an open space heād successfully traversed to knock out an armed Castro militiaman who was preventing me from taking the same escape route.
And once when he and Hazel and I were in the drink in the south Atlantic after a fishing cruiser had been shot out from under us, heād tried to save Hazel at a time when he couldnāt reasonably have expected to save himself.
I looked up as a sound from a corner of the room caught my attention. Candy Kane was standing in the doorway, his blocky body swathed in a bright purple robe. āWhooo-eee!ā he exclaimed with every evidence of deep feeling. āMustāve been quite a bash from the way I feel.ā
āYour brandy is potent,ā I admitted. He was eyeing my underwear. His underwear. āChen Yi pressed my suit, too,ā I added.
He nodded. āThe den mother,ā he said with no particular emphasis. āWhatād you think of Hermione?ā
āI was trying to make up my mind if Iād dreamed her.ā
Candy chuckled. āIf youād been goinā to stick around for awhile, I wouldnāt have let her tie into you like that. Sheās shacked up regālar with a muscle type, kind of a nasty job when heās turned on. But Hermione enjoys a change of scenery.ā
āWhat happens if the muscle type catches her at it?ā
āHe leans on her, but itās never stopped her yet. Iād have to say the pair of them are well matched.ā He rubbed his chin. āHow long ād you say last night you wanted to stay?ā
āThree or four days. Maybe less.ā I recalled that Eriksonās man Baker was only going to keep the Andrews Field rendezvous for three mornings. āSurely less.ā
āSeems to me youād be takinā your fences fasterān that with the bobbies lookinā for you.ā
āThereās a problem. My partner was grabbed last night.ā
āHe was? Where?ā
āOn the roof of a bank building on Shirley Street.ā
Candy cocked an eyebrow in a skeptical expression I was beginning to recognize as nearly habitual with him. āYouāre beginninā to sound like a real hot potato, Earl. I only get to run my game here on the strength of a couple of contacts anā a little payoff. I canāt afford trouble.ā He moved to the couch and sat down on the other end of it. The papers in the canvas sack crackled slightly under his weight, but he didnāt notice. There was a brooding look on his heavy features as his eyes met mine at the closer range. āYou know what I mean?ā
āWhy would anyone look for me here?ā I asked in a tone of voice intended to sound reasonable. āThereās no possible connection. For the law to suspect, I mean. As for my partner, thereās something Iād like to ask you about ā ā
I broke off as Chen Yi reentered the room. The tall Chinese girl had my washed-and-ironed shirt in her hand. āThanks again,ā I said and stood up and began to slip into the shirt.
āWhat about your partner?ā Candy wanted to know. I glanced at the Chinese girl, but Candy waved an impatient hand. āShe goes with the lease here. Speak up.ā
āIād like to take him with me.ā
Candy stared. āTake him ā ? You mean ā ?ā
āIt might not be too much of a job, depending upon the detention facilities,ā I went on. āAnd Iād pay the right man well for a little help.ā
āIām not about to get my black ass fussed up in no jailbreak,ā Candy began, then paused. āYouād pay? For what kindāve help?ā
āIt shouldnāt take too much. And Iād expect to pay.ā
āI could sure use a fresh bankroll,ā Candy said thoughtfully. āThe dice turned real unfriendly since that Las Vegas disaster. Before that Iād been goinā so good you wouldnāt believe it.ā He shrugged. āThatās the way it goes. But this thing youāre talkinā about ā ā He was silent for a moment. āWell, how much of a payoff would go to this right man you mentioned?ā
I tried to make my tone impressive. āYou name it.ā
He rubbed his chin again. āWhat kind of help ād you say?ā
āIād need to know a few things first. Where would he be held?ā
āNot at East Street, I wouldnāt think,ā Candy responded immediately. āCartwright Street more likely. Itās kind of an unofficial detention center. Probāly not moreān two hundred yards from where you say he was grabbed. Did you score with the bank?ā
I knew that my answer would have a lot to do with the price Candy set for his assistance ā if he decided to help ā and I had no cash to pay off at once. āIām going to have to come back and retrieve it later when the heatās off,ā I said.
The answer appeared to satisfy him. āWas there any rough stuff that would make the police hairy?ā
I thought of Karl Eriksonās thickly thewed body shedding police like pearls from a broken necklace strand. And the wallop I gave the sergeant. āJust a little scuffle on the roof. What kind of a jail is this one you think heād be in?ā
āA bloody poor one, compared to US types,ā Candy said. āActually, itās a place people are sometimes held before they appear before a magistrate. I donāt think thereās moreān half a dozen cells behind the bookinā desk, but even at night thereās enough blokes around so no one walks in anā out unless heās got business there.ā
āEven behind a gun?ā
āDonāt talk no guns to me, mon. Thatās out.ā
āWhat kind of a building is it?ā
āOld like most of the government buildings near Bay Street.ā
āNo, I mean what kind of construction. Masonry? Steel and concrete?ā
āLetās see now.ā Candyās brow furrowed as he tried to remember. āSeems to me itās bricked over now,ā he said finally, ābut when I was a tyke it was a wood-frame-an'-lath affair and old even then. Why?ā
āIf I canāt go in the front, maybe I can go in the back.ā
āThrough the back wall, you mean?ā
ā...