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Page 74
Vanessa。
Vanessa darted along the curb to the cover of another car。 Sweating; Refugio took aim carefully;
knowing that if he waited any longer; she would be behind his van in a blind spot。 His finger;
slippery with sweat and blood; took slack out of the trigger。 He exhaled until there was no air
left in his lungs; then held very still; waiting for Vanessa’s blond head to appear over the trunk of
the car behind the van。
The sound of Refugo’s unsilenced 。45 shattered the early…morning calm。 Glass exploded and
bullets screamed off metal。 Ana woke up in a rush of adrenaline; disoriented by the heavy smell
of roses; thinking she was a child again; awakened by firecrackers thrown by her brothers to
frighten her。 Then she remembered where she was; and why。
Three more shots came; sounds so loud that Ana suppressed a scream only by biting her
knuckles。 She desperately hoped that the shots were not related to Refugio or Kestrel and hence
to her; but she knew hope was false and fear was true。 Kestrel was far away and she was here;
afraid。
She eased aside the curtain and stared out the windshield。 At first she saw only gray light and fog
dripping onto the pavement; shining in the middle of the street。 Then she realized that it was
glass; not moisture glistening on concrete。 Halfway up the block stood a car; its door open;
something black huddled against the side。 Farther up the street was a car with darkness where
windows should be; and something black huddled against the back of the car。
Shots came like sharp blows。
Vanessa was flattened on the pavement; shards of glass winked in her hair。 She tasted blood and
fear and anger all at once。 Her silenced gun spat several times before it was empty。 She had used
too many bullets on the man who should have been Refugio。
She knew if she stayed she would die。 She knew she would die if she tried to get the uranium。 She
knew Masarek was dead as certainly as if she had killed him herself。 She also knew how far it was
to the border。 Many things could happen; many people could die。 Refugio would be one of
them – if she could get out of this rancid gutter。
Vanessa squirmed backward until she was beneath a parked car。 She did not notice the macadam
tearing her hands or the rivulets of blood on her face from the first explosion of glass。 She had
only one thought in her mind: The man who had killed Masarek was trying to kill her。
With an eel…like motion; she squirmed from beneath the car; feinted toward the sidewalk; then
spun on one foot as a shot exploded off the curb。 Instantly she crouched over; weaving toward
the green car。
Refugio swore and tried again; but as Vanessa crossed to the street side of the parked cars; she
put the back of the van across Refugio’s sights。 He dragged himself over to the driver’s side of
the van。 Vanessa was already inside her car。 He heard an engine rev; tires shrieked on moist
pavement。 She turned the car around and was accelerating away from him。 He pulled the trigger
but no sound came。 The gun was empty。 He reloaded; but it was too late。 She was gone。
Ana ducked reflexively as Vanessa’s car careened by; then looked up the street toward the van。
A shout rang out as clear as a shot。 Ana looked in the sideview mirror。 Behind her; far down the
block; an old; fat man in a gray watchman’s uniform was waving his arm to someone behind
him。 The watchman must have realized what a fine target he made on the suddenly empty street。
He ducked back into the cover of the brick building he was guarding。
Ana wanted to follow his example; to retreat like a snail behind a protective coil of shell。 She did
not want to climb into the driver’s seat; start the van and drive past shattered glass up to the
laundry truck。 She did not want to do anything except hide。 But she started the van and drove up
to the laundry truck anyway。 Kestrel had taught her that there was more to life than fear。
She leaned across the seat; rolled down the window on the far side; and called out softly:
“Refugio?”
If Ana’s hair had been any color except black; she would have died in Refugio’s first startled
reflex。 As it was; Refugio hesitated; then spoke in rapid Spanish。
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“Ana? Is it you; Ana?”
“Yes。 How are you?”
It was not an idle greeting。 Ana was concerned by the thready sound of Refugio’s voice。
“Fine;” Refugio said; lying。
Refugio heaved himself over the seat into the back of the van; swearing volubly。 Sweating; dizzy;
he bent over the two canvas bags containing the uranium。 He wanted Ana’s help now; but she
was only a woman; if she saw the bloody mess inside the van; she might run away。 He needed
her。 She must drive for him; because he knew that the pain he felt now was nothing to what he
would feel when the first shock of being wounded wore off。
“Refugio?” said Ana。 She could not see him; could only hear him。 “Do you need help?”
Refugio tried to pick up both sacks at once; but could not。 The pieces of metal thumped
together in their sacks; bounced; then rested against each other; separated only by two layers of
canvas。 The cloth blushed with a vague blue light。 The heavier sack slipped out of his grasp。 The
blue light faded。
“Refugio?” asked Ana again。
“ Yes;” he said wearily。 “ Come to the back of the van。”
Refugio opened the back door just enough to hand out the sack containing the smaller piece of
uranium。
“Put it in your truck。”
Ana reached for the bag before she realized that the hand holding it was smeared with blood。
“You’re hurt。”
“The bag!” said Refugio savagely。 “Take it!”
Ana snatched the bag; flung it into the flower truck and ran back just as Refugio was trying to
climb out the rear of the laundry truck。 Her horrified glance went from his leg to the corpses in
the van。 She closed her eyes and did not open them until she turned her back on the bloody van。
“Can you walk?” she asked。
“Take the bag。”
The second laundry sack was heavier than the first had been; and liberally smeared with blood。
Ana flung the bag into the flower truck; slammed the door shut and rushed back to help
Refugio。
The second bag thumped to a rest against a wicker flower stand in the rear of the truck。 The first
bag lay partway under the passenger seat。 Only gray light relieved the gloomy interior of the van。
In the distance sirens keened。 Ana remembered the night watchman。 She had no doubt that the
sirens were coming to the waterfront; they were drawn by death as unerringly as vultures
spiraling down hot desert air。
With a strength that surprised Refugio; she boosted him into the passenger seat of the flower
truck; slammed shut the engine compartment and leaped into the driver’s seat。
The van turned around and raced along the waterfront。 Ana did not notice the car parked along
the street leading to the bridge; nor the driver blotting up blood that dripped into her eyes;
making driving more dangerous than hiding。
When the cream…colored van loomed out of the fog; Vanessa thought that Refugio had followed
her to finish her off。 She grabbed her reloaded pistol and aimed toward the driver’s side of the
oncoming van。 Refugio would have to slow down to get off a telling shot。 When he slowed; she
would fire。
The van swept by without pausing; but not before Vanessa recognized the man slumped against
the window – Refugio。 Automatically she memorized the truck’s license plate。 When the van
turned the corner; she followed; trying to keep the van in sight without revealing her own
presence。 Mist and morning traffic defeated her。 Before she reached the Bay Bridge; the van had
disappeared into fog that would not burn off until noon。
Vanessa turned the car toward the waterfront; wondering where Masarek was and whether he
was still alive。 How had Refugio escaped him? Where had the second truck come from; and who
Page 76
had driven Refugio away? But most of all – where was the uranium?
Sirens ululated through the mist; converging on the waterfront。 A police car ran a stop sign at
right angles to Vanessa’s car and roared down the street leading to the Good Luck laundry van。
A second squad car quickly followed。 She eased out into the intersection until she could see the
van。 Both squad cars jerked to a stop near it。 Policemen leaped out; guns drawn。 They yanked
open the van’s doors。 No shots were fired。 No one came out of it。
Vanessa drove by the entrance to the waterfront。 If Masarek were in the van there was nothing
she could do for him。 If the uranium were there – Resolutely; she examined the possibilities of
the situation。 Either Masarek was alive and had escaped with the uranium; in which case he
would call the prearranged number to re…establish contact with her; or he was dead and the
uranium was in the van。 If the latter were true; the uranium was lost to her and to Russia; and she
would soon be as dead as Masarek。 Beria did not tolerate failures。
There was; however; a third possibility。 Refugio might have managed to escape with the
uranium。 He had proved to be a more formidable man that either she or Masarek expected。 But
now she was warned; she would find Refugio; kill him and take back the uranium。
Vanessa nodded; choosing to act on the third possibility。 She must f