y
had no idea of his present physical condition.

It was dark when they rolled out of Calor, Rick driving. All three were
dressed in dark clothes, and each had a night stick in his belt.
Montoya's pistol was hidden in a shoulder holster.

At the officer's direction, they turned toward the airport, passed it,
and headed toward the lighthouse at the extreme southern tip of the
island. The road led past the light and along the southern shore, a
hundred yards from the sea. Then, as they reached their first turning
point, Montoya said, "Slowly. It should be about here."

After a moment he found it, a pair of ruts through the rolling farm
land. Rick knew from his study of the map that it was a road on which
bananas were hauled from the plantations. It cut across to the main road
to San Souci. By taking this route, they would miss the check point near
the hotel.

The road was bumpy but passable. Rick kept a steady speed in spite of
the jouncing it gave his passengers. They could take it.

Presently there was blacktop ahead. They had reached the road to San
Souci. Rick pulled a flashlight from his pocket and pointed it at the
odometer, counting off the tenths of a mile as he headed toward the
town. When he reached seven-tenths he stopped the jeep.

"Turnoff point," he said. "From now on, we steer our way through the
boondocks. Any preferred way, Captain?"

Montoya shrugged. "There is no road, or even a path. Do what you can."

"Okay. Scotty, make sure we head due north."

"Check. Make a 90-degree turn and keep going. I'll correct you."

Rick had only one real concern, and that was that the jeep lights might
be visible from the higher elevation of Casa Guevara. But it had to be
risked. He thought there wasn't really much of a chance, because the
thick foliage would screen them. Besides, anyone seeing the lights might
assume it was soldiers making their rounds.

The ground was carpeted with fallen vegetation, but it was the dry
season and the earth under the leaves was firm enough. There was little
danger of the jeep bogging down, especially in four-wheel drive.

Rick picked his way through the jungle, keeping to clear spots as much
as he could. Once it was necessary to butt down a huge banana plant
before he could continue, but mostly it was a matter of plowing through
scrub. Sometimes a palmetto leaf whipped across his face, and once a
thorny bush caught painfully and drew blood.

Scotty navigated, keeping track