Jungle Of Steel And Stone (27 page)

Reyna turned to Toby, spoke in K'ung. "Veil has said that you are a great warrior—but he does not yet fully understand how great. He thinks that you still need the Nal-toon's blood-shilluk, but I know you do not. You are with us now, and you no longer have need of the blood-shilluk. Your pain and sickness will still be great, but now the Nal-toon asks you to bear the pain without the great gift. Can you do this?"

"Why do you insult me?" Toby replied, looking away.

"He'll do without the heroin, Veil."

"Reyna—"

"He'll do without it," Reyna repeated in a firm voice. "He has to get off it sometime, so he may as well start now. Besides, I assume you don't want him spaced-out."

"I don't want him in pain," Veil said, folding the handkerchief and placing it next to the plastic bags.

"He'll be all right, Veil. What happens now?"

"First I want to say something," Veil said, reaching out and squeezing Reyna's hand. "You put up a good front, but I know what it cost you to go out there alone. Carl Nagle's out there someplace waiting for us—and you know it. I just want to say that I think you're one hell of a woman."

Reyna smiled. "Why, thank you, sir."

"I have to leave for a little while. I will be careful. I'll be back, and I'll try not to take too long."

"All right," Reyna answered in a small voice.

"Just in case, you have the telephone numbers for—"

"I don't want to know about any 'just in case,' Veil. You make sure you come back."

Veil picked up the broken plastic bag and put it in his jacket pocket. "See you later," he said, and slipped out into the night.

"
H
ey, you."

Veil watched as the man started, then quickly turned and nervously peered into the darkness.

"That's right, you!"

This time the man drew a gun from a shoulder holster and pointed it over the stone wall separating the sidewalk from the cemetery. "Who's there?!"

"Just stand still and listen," Veil said softly. "Do what I say, and you could end up with more money than you'll know how to spend."

The man grunted angrily, put one hand on top of the stone wall, and vaulted over it into the darkness beyond. He landed on an incline and cursed as he fell. However, he was a lithe, agile man and was almost immediately up on his feet, running toward the spot from where he thought the voice had come. There was no one there. He searched the surrounding area as best he could in the moonlight but still found no one. He listened, gun held ready, but could hear only the sound of his own, slightly nasal breathing.

"Okay," the man said through clenched teeth as he slowly turned. "I'm listening."

Veil let the man wait. Ten minutes went by before the man cursed under his breath, turned, and walked back the way he had come. He was back at his post on the sidewalk when Veil spoke again.

"Hey, you, dummy. You almost blew it, pal. I picked you because you looked fairly bright. It just goes to show that looks can be deceiving. I want you to stand still and listen. A few minutes of your time could be worth millions to you. If you're not interested, I'll go talk to somebody with more brains. I know there are at least a half dozen of you guys hanging around."

"I'm listening. What's this about millions?"

"What's your name?"

"Sloane," the man said after some hesitation.

"All right, Sloane—"

"You Kendry?"

"First go up the block and tell your buddy that you have to take a crap or something. You have to come with me for a few minutes, and everything will be explained to you. If you try to tip off your buddy—if anyone tries to follow us in—you've blown it. Just keep thinking of what you could do with a few million dollars."

"Okay," Sloane mumbled. "Don't go away."

"Just remember to do exactly as I said."

As Sloane walked away, Veil moved silently through the trees and underbrush on a parallel course. He listened to the exchange between the two gunmen, then moved back with Sloane.

"I did it," Sloane said to the darkness beyond the wall. "What now?"

"Throw your gun over the wall."

"Hey, now, hold on a second!"

"You don't want to do it, don't. I'm gone."

"Okay!"

"Keep your voice down. And move slowly. You're going to be a rich man if you keep your cool, Sloane, but you'd better make up your mind. You told your buddy you'd be back in ten minutes."

Sloane withdrew his gun from its holster, tossed it over the wall.

"Now you come over. Easy does it. Move off to your left."

Sloane did as he was told. He'd gone about fifteen yards into the cemetery when Veil suddenly appeared in front of him. Sloane stopped walking and stared at the muzzle of his own gun, which was pointing at his chest.

"You are Veil Kendry, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Nagle talks a lot about you," Sloane said with a crooked smile. "I'm waiting to hear what you have to say, Kendry."

"Don't be impatient. Keep moving to your left, but stay inside the trees. Watch how you walk. You attract any attention with those big feet of yours, and I disappear."

* * *

Sloane squinted in the smoky air and grunted. In the dim, flickering light of the small fire he could just make out the objects of Nagle's hunt. The woman and the African. The idol.

"Here, catch," Veil said as he perfunctorily tossed the torn plastic bag at Sloane. Startled, the man juggled the bag in the semidarkness. White powder floated in the air, then slowly drifted down to the ground. "That's pure heroin. Check it out for yourself."

Sloane's hand trembled as he put a thumb and forefinger through the tear in the plastic, pinched some powder, tasted it. "Jesus H. Christ," he murmured. "I can't believe you're throwing this shit around."

"Good stuff?"

"Good?" Sloane wore a slightly dazed expression on his face. "What's left in this bag is worth a fortune. I'd heard rumors that this guy was carrying around something big . . ."

"I assume you'd know how to get rid of it?" Veil asked wryly.

Sloane had begun to sweat. His eyes were teary from the smoke and he rubbed them. "A little bit at a time, over the years," he said in a dry, cracking voice. "Maybe. It's suicide to cross the big guys on something like this."

"So? Like you said, you can spend the rest of your life selling it off in small bits. It sounds to me like a great way to beat inflation. On the other hand, they tell me that money is power. With the money you could get from the sale of that heroin, you might grow pretty big yourself."

The man could not take his eyes off the bag in his hand. "If they caught me, they'd take me apart with a chain saw," he said distantly.

"Getting big money means taking big risks, Sloane. You can always turn us in and collect a few thousand from your boss, can't you? You'll sleep better—but you'll also be making peanuts for the rest of your life while those 'big guys' jerk you around. Sooner or later small potatoes like you end up in jail, anyway. When you get canned for some penny-ante crime, you'll have plenty of opportunity to think about this opportunity you pissed away."

Sloane finally looked up from the bag. His eyes were round and bright in the firelight. "What am I supposed to do for this?"

"You've already earned what you're holding in your hand; you can walk out of here with it. Think of it as a down payment. There are two more bags like that one— bigger, because they're not torn. That bag's been dribbling for days."

"Jesus."

"Do as I ask and they're both yours."

Sloane's eyes went back to the bag in his hand, then to the fine powder strewn on the ground around the glowing embers of the fire. "What do you want me to do?" he asked hoarsely.

"What time do you get off?"

"I was supposed to be relieved an hour and a half ago."

"Then somebody may be there when you get back, so you'd better come up with a good story. First, we need a car.
Rent
one, don't steal it. Leave the car parked at the curb, on this side of the street, at the place where I spoke to you—or as close as you can without being spotted. Bring the keys and the rental slip to me, here."

Sloane glanced at Toby, who had been partially hidden in shadow. The fire suddenly flared, and the gunman could see the K'ung's bandaged head. Toby's good eye, glowing red and yellow in the firelight, stared balefully back at Sloane, who shuddered.

"Where are you going?" Sloane asked, still transfixed by Toby's unrelenting gaze.

"That's not your concern."

Sloane hefted the bag in his hand. "Dropping off a rented car doesn't seem like much to do for the fortune you're offering me," he said carefully.

"I knew you were bright. There's more—and this is the exciting part. I don't want anyone to see the car, but I do want you to be seen. You find someone you know on watch, go up to him. Tell him you're all worked up and can't sleep. Say you want to hang around because you don't want to miss anything if it happens. Say whatever you please, but be sure you make it sound convincing."

The man shook his head. "That's going to be tough to pull off."

"Ah, but think of all the money you're going to get for a single performance," Veil said evenly. "After you've set that business up, you bring me the keys and the rental slip. You wander off maybe a half mile up the cemetery, then you start yelling and shooting. You've seen us. You keep it up until you've got everyone running to you. That will give us time to get to the car."

"What am I supposed to say when they see you're not there?"

"Use your imagination," Veil said coldly. "That's what you're getting paid for. Just tell them we ran up the cemetery."

Sloane thought about it for a few moments, then nodded. His hands were shaking. "I'll do it. How will I get the rest of the heroin?"

"I'll be carrying it with me when we leave. I'll leave the bags behind the wall at the precise place where you jumped over. When I'm certain you've done your job, I drop the bags. That's it. After we're gone, you can pick up the heroin anytime you like."

"How do I know there are two other bags?" Sloane asked suspiciously.

Veil took two steps to his left, reached down into the darkness, held up the bags.

"How do I know you'll leave them like you say?"

"You don't, but that bag you're holding in your hand should buy us a little good faith. You were happy with the one; I didn't even have to tell you about the other two. We have no use for the heroin, so there's no reason why we shouldn't leave it—assuming you do your job. On the other hand, we have to trust
you
completely, and you might well decide that a bag in the hand is worth two behind the wall. Ours is the greater risk."

"All right," Sloane said sullenly.

"Remember this, Sloan: If you try crossing us, I'll make sure you never keep the bag you've got. You'll be killed. The point is that we have to trust each other if all of us are going to get what we want. It's a straight deal. You set it up so that we can get away, and you become an instant millionaire; try to screw us, and there's no way you can get away with it."

"I said I'd do it."

Veil glanced at his watch. "I'll see you back here in a couple of hours."

"I don't know if I can find a car-rental place open at this time of night."

"If you can't, it will be the most expensive car you never rented."

"You have to give me back my gun. I need it in case someone decides to check."

Veil took out his own gun and covered Sloane while he handed over the other man's revolver. Sloane slipped it back into his shoulder holster.

"Where's Nagle keeping himself?"

"I don't know," the gunman replied. "I've talked to him a couple of times on the phone, but I haven't seen him. One of the other guys said he thought he saw him cruising around in a car, but he couldn't be sure. Hell, we're all working with no money up front."