missing uranium is still sitting in Japan and eventually some clerk will find the error that wrongly listed it on the ship’s manifest.”
“You’re willing to take the risk if you’re wrong?” Harry growled.
“If there was a risk, no. But there isn’t.”
“And what about Mercer?” Lauren had gone bitter, knowing how the agent would reply. “Don’t you owe him something for using him to gain access to more of what Hatcherly is doing? I thought the Legion always took care of their own?”
“And I,” Rene pronounced, “am not with the Legion.”
Lauren looked to Foch, imploring. The soldier seemed to have gone as far as he was willing. He couldn’t meet her gaze. “Neither was Mercer. I am sorry, Captain.”
“You cowards,” she hissed. “Mercer risked his life not knowing what you were looking for and you’ll just abandon him now that you think you’ve been on a fool’s errand.”
“Even if we wanted to help,” Foch offered, “we don’t know where Hatcherly took him or even if he’s still alive.”
Harry White leaned forward, his eyes drilling Bruneseau to the wall even as he spoke to the whole room. “I know where they’re taking him.”
Rodrigo Herrara nodded. “
A feeling of hope surged through Lauren’s body. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat. “Where?”
Harry, never one to let an opportunity to be the center of attention pass, ground out his cigarette and ceremoniously lit another. He decided against opening the whiskey-filled flask at the top of his sword cane. With Mercer in danger, time was of the essence.
“Okay, after your little romp in the container port, Mercer asked Roddy and me to find out where those dump trucks were bringing all that gravel from and why. No surprise, we didn’t find a trace of the armored car. Liu probably stashed it that night after moving the gold someplace else. Bank most likely.
“Anyway, Roddy and I waited outside Hatcherly’s gates all the next day and into the early evening before the first of the dump trucks left the container port. They drove out of the city and across the canal on the Bridge of the Americas toward Penonome to the west.” He gave Lauren a significant look. It was the same direction the Gazelle had taken. “About twenty miles past that town they turned onto a private road belonging to Las Minas del Viente Diablos. The Twenty Devils Mine.”
“A mine?” Lauren asked, having never heard of the place. “What kind of mine?”
Harry looked pleased with himself and his detective skills. “We talked to a peasant walking along the highway. Told us it’s a gold mine.”
“I know there’s a big copper mine between Santiago and David but the gold mines in Panama were in the Darien Province and have been closed for a century.”
“The place is little known,” Roddy interjected. “After we discovered that is where the trucks are going, I phoned the ministry that oversees mines. I wanted to question some officials but I was refused a meeting. I got only as far as a low-level clerk who told me that the mine has been in operation for six months and that it’s partially owned by a foreign company. He wouldn’t tell me which country nor would he tell me how much gold they’ve extracted.”
“At the lake,” Lauren said, “we discovered that Liu Yousheng hasn’t found the Twice-Stolen Treasure yet. Is it possible the gold Mercer and I saw at the warehouse came from this Twenty Devils Mine?”
“I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion quite yet,” Harry said enigmatically.
“This is a waste of time,” Bruneseau dismissed the whole line of inquiry. “We don’t know where the Gazelle went after it left the auto carrier. As for the trucks at the port? Hatcherly is a maritime company. They could be shipping ore for the mining company.”
Harry smirked, as if he was setting up the French agent. “A minute ago you said that you’d take no chances if Liu had stolen the atomic fuel and stashed it someplace in Panama. What if the mine is controlled by Hatcherly and that’s where the helicopter took Mercer? Would you be willing to check it out?”
“It could have gone anywhere.”
“Too true,” White agreed. “But we have evidence that something about that mine isn’t kosher, a strange link between it and the warehouse. Remember the gravel in the warehouse?” The others waited expectantly while Harry drew out the moment. “Hatcherly isn’t moving it to a ship from the mine. It’s the opposite actually. It appears that the gravel is brought in on ships and is then transported
“Huh? Why?”
Looking around the room, Harry said, “Only way to find out is to go and see for ourselves.”
He didn’t need to add that his interest was finding Mercer, not why Hatcherly was playing bizarre shell games with dump-truck loads of gravel.
The Twenty Devils Mine Cocle Province, Panama
A blast of icy water exploding against his groin wrenched Mercer from a drugged sleep. The cold and shock following six hours of unconsciousness in a dank cell was like a hit from a runaway truck. Mercer rolled across the floor to get away from the jet of water but whoever directed the fire hose kept the pressure on, tumbling him against a concrete wall like a street cleaner moving a piece of flotsam.
A voice called an order and the streaming water stopped as abruptly as it had started.
Mercer forced open his eyes, blinking into powerful handheld halide lights that burned his vision like lasers after so many hours of darkness. He turned away and the blaze of red behind his lids faded as the lights were dimmed. He heard another command and boots moving away. Tentatively he levered open an eye again. His eyesight came back from beyond the blistering afterspots on his damaged retinas. The room was lit by a single-bulb fixture clamped to the ceiling. The halide lamps had been used to further disorient him. He wiped water from his face, allowing a little to trickle into his mouth.
Since his capture, he’d been given nothing to eat or drink. A hood had been placed over his head on the helicopter after he’d been given a hypodermic of sedative, the Chinese denying him a sense of place as well. They’d left him dressed in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.
His lower belly throbbing from the pulsing blow to his testicles, Mercer shuffled to his feet, watching for a reaction from the single guard left at the cell’s open door. The impassive Chinese soldier was in uniform and cradled a type- 87 bullpup assault rifle, the type Lauren told him meant he was part of an elite fighting force.
There was no furniture in the cell so Mercer leaned against the wall, crossing his ankles and arms in an attempt at a relaxed pose. A vortex of thoughts churned in his mind as more of the drug wore off, but it was important that he give no outward sign of his growing anxiety. He slicked back his hair with the palms of his hands and idly picked at a fingernail. His antics made no impression on the stone-faced guard.
Before he considered his own circumstances, his mind turned to Lauren and the others. He could only assume his sacrifice had guaranteed their escape. The Gazelle hadn’t circled back to the auto carrier and he hadn’t seen any other choppers in the area before he’d passed out. The Chinese couldn’t know how many people were with him, nor their identities. He had to keep that secret, he knew, but wondered how long he could maintain his silence. Mercer had no delusions about what was to come.
He didn’t know where he’d been taken-someplace west of the canal, but that told him nothing. If he didn’t know, it was unlikely Bruneseau or Lauren knew either. Meaning?
He was on his own and about to face an interrogation at the hands of a Chinese organization who seemed more than willing to kill those who got in their way. Thoughts of cliched water-torture scenes from old movies filled his imagination. Mercer had no idea how long he’d be able to hold out. The reasonably high tolerance for pain he’d developed because of the dangerous nature of his work would do him no good if they used drugs on him. He’d read enough spy novels to know there was no defense against some of the exotic cocktails developed to extract information.
He tried to think if he had any advantages in this situation. Because they didn’t know if the authorities were closing in, the Chinese would probably want information quickly. He didn’t know if that helped, but it was
