The Argentine Triangle: A Craig Page Thriller Read online

  He was sorely tempted to go downstairs, confront Estrada and Schiller, and kill them both. But he banished that thought. A firefight in the castle would bring the troops on the boat and perhaps others stationed nearby. Besides, it would be up to the Argentine government to deal out its own justice for Estrada and Schiller when this was all over.

  On the toes of his feet with the keys in his hand, he walked down the corridor to Gina’s cell. He saw her before she spotted him. She was dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing when she had left Nicole’s house. She was lying on top of the prison cot looking up at the ceiling, singing a hymn.

  Through the bars, he whispered, “Don’t make any noise. I’ve come for you.”

  Her whole body gave a start as she sat upright on her bed. She opened her mouth to scream with joy, but his words must have sunk in. She didn’t say a thing. Instead, she climbed off the bed and ran to the door of the cell.

  Craig found the right key on the third try.

  “Oh, thank God,” she whispered as he unlocked and opened the door.

  “Don’t thank me until it’s over,” he whispered back. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

  With the Uzi in one hand, he raced toward the staircase. Gina was two steps behind. When they were halfway down the stairs, Gina, in her anxiety to get out of the building, lost her footing on the slick polished wood and fell down. She skidded past him on her back and rear end, landing at the bottom with a thud.

  Uh-oh, he thought, Estrada and Schiller will hear us. But he didn’t wait to find out. Hoping she hadn’t broken anything, he grabbed her by the hand, pulled her up, and continued toward the exit. Fortunately she could still run.

  His plan was to follow the same route through the vegetation to the gatehouse and then to his car.

  Inside Estrada’s office the general was on the phone with one of his commanders who was apologizing because he couldn’t halt the retreat of his forces, when he and Schiller heard the thud from the bottom of the stairs. Estrada looked at the colonel with an alarmed expression. Without saying a word, Schiller pulled his gun out of the holster at his waist and ran in the direction of the noise.

  Moments later, breathless, Schiller raced back into Estrada’s office and began cursing. Estrada hung up on the commander.

  “She’s gone!” Schiller blurted out.

  “Page must have gotten her out.”

  Estrada picked up the phone and called the gatehouse. He’d stop them before they exited the property.

  No answer.

  At least one of those men had to be in the gatehouse at all times. So Craig must have taken care of them.

  Damn Craig Page!

  Estrada had another group of twelve soldiers in a barracks, a quarter of a mile away. He called the commander of the unit on the phone and barked orders. “Get your men down here on the double. Secure the gatehouse. Destroy any cars on the road and search the property inside the fence for intruders. Shoot to kill.”

  Estrada walked over to an electrical panel on the wall. He threw a switch activating a piercing siren and floodlights in the vicinity of the castle.

  He was confident he had closed off Craig Page’s escape with Gina.

  Once Craig heard the siren and saw the lights, he realized what had happened. “Can you go faster?” he called to Gina. “We have to get through the gate and into our car before they catch us.”

  “I’m okay. I’ll keep up.”

  Over his shoulder he heard the firing of automatic weapons from the castle. His guess was that soldiers were spraying shots blindly hoping to hit them.

  They’d lose a little time, but he swung their route wider to the left, plunging them into denser forest to avoid the reach of the floodlights. Close to the fence they could circle back to the gatehouse. He used the Uzi and his arms to push back the prickly branches, bamboos, and luxuriant palm trees in order to make a path for him and Gina, who was close on his heels.

  She called, “Don’t worry. I’m keeping up.”

  As he ran, he glanced at the area where he had parked the car. The sky was light enough to see. It was still there.

  Seconds later, he watched in horror as a jeep approached his car. From the front seat, a soldier aimed a grenade launcher and scored a direct hit on the car. There was a loud explosion, with flames shooting high into the air. Estrada was tightening the noose.

  The realization that his route of escape had been cut off paralyzed Craig for an instant. He stood frozen to the spot, Gina at his side, her whole body trembling.

  There has to be another way out. Think, goddamn it. Think.

  Gina was mumbling prayers.

  He could call Nicole and order the pilot to come here for them. That was no answer. Schiller would blow up the plane before it even landed.

  Think.

  The river. A pontoon boat. That was it.

  Then he thought about Nicole. He expected Estrada to send troops to the airport to capture anyone who came with him. He had to make sure Nicole got out while there was still time.

  He whipped out his cell phone and called her. “I have Gina. You don’t have to worry about us. We have another way out. Save yourself. Have Rodriguez fly you home.”

  “Are you sure you want me to leave?”

  “Absolutely. And do it fast. Before they search the airport. Please—I want you to get back safely.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Next, he called Betty. “Send the chopper for us. If we make it, Gina and I will be in a pontoon boat on the river moving upstream from the castle. I’m wearing an Argentine army uniform.”

  They didn’t have any more time to waste. He grabbed Gina’s arm and pulled her parallel to the river through even thicker grass and bushes. They trampled wild orchids and begonias. He’d have to make a guess at where the dock was that held the pontoon boats, then cut to the left.

  Branches and sharp thorns scratched their faces and bodies. His arms ached from battling bushes and trees. Even in the early morning hours, the heat and humidity were stifling. Sweat poured down his face and mixed with blood from the scratches. He stumbled on a root, but kept running.

  He didn’t know how badly Gina had been hurt in her fall down the stairs, but he had to hand it to her. She didn’t whine or complain, and she kept up the pace.

  The pontoon boats.

  Their last chance. Their only chance.

  From behind him, back at the gatehouse, he heard volleys of gunfire from automatic weapons. The noise terrified macaws, whose screams added an eerie note to their fight for survival.

  The soldiers who had blown up his car had entered the property and were pursuing them. He hoped to hell the vegetation was too thick for the jeep. He desperately needed the extra time he would have with the men on foot.

  It was almost full daylight now. The soldiers would have no trouble spotting their heads if they stuck up above the bushes. “Keep your body low,” he shouted over his shoulder to Gina.

  The pontoon boats. Where the hell are the boats?

  Here, he decided.

  They had to make their cut to the left right now. He turned sharply and increased the pace. Gina was right behind him. The gunfire was growing louder.

  They burst through the vegetation into a clearing that ran along the river. Their faces and arms were streaked with blood. Craig wiped the sweat from his eyes to focus on the river.

  Fog and mist hung over the water. Straining his eyes to see through it, he spotted the dock only ten yards away on the right.

  He heard the shouting of men, the firing of automatic weapons close by, following their route to the river. The soldiers were closing in on them.

  He grabbed Gina by the arm and ran toward the dock. When they reached the first pontoon boat, he shouted, “Jump in.” He untied the rope securing it to the pier and followed her into the boat.

  “The engine better be working,” he said as he revved it up. Immediately, it kicked over. “Hold on tight,” he shouted to Gina. T
hey roared away from the dock, heading upstream, away from the Falls.

  And just in time. Four of the soldiers who had been pursuing them from the gatehouse reached the edge of the river and began firing. The boat was barely outside their range.

  They were free from Schiller and Estrada. They had made it.

  He looked skyward through the morning mist, expecting to see the chopper any second. But he couldn’t see a damn thing.

  Frantically, he took one hand from the wheel and called Betty. “We’re on the river in a pontoon boat. Where’s the fucking helicopter?”

  “Should be there any minute,” she said. “I just spoke to Forbes. It’s a little dicey. They have to fly around the battle zone.”

  Meanwhile, he had no choice but to keep pushing the boat as hard and fast as it could go—increasing their distance from the castle.

  Suddenly Craig heard an ominous sound. Behind them was the roar of a powerful motorboat.

  While he steered the pontoon boat, he tossed Gina the binoculars. “Keep your body as low as possible. Tell me what’s coming.”

  He knew the answer before she said it. “A white motorboat. I see Estrada and Schiller on board along with at least six sailors.”

  “We’re fucked,” he said. “Where’s the goddamn helicopter?”

  She responded to his curses with prayers. That can’t hurt, he decided. We need all the help we can get.

  The pontoon boat was no match in speed for Estrada’s craft, which was rapidly closing the gap between them.

  At a distance of twenty yards, the motorboat cut its speed and maintained a constant distance.

  Through a bullhorn Estrada called out, “We urge you to surrender. No one will get hurt. Turn off your engines. We will come for you.”

  Craig cut his engine to a very low idle and steered the pontoon boat around to face Estrada’s boat, making it appear as if he intended to comply.

  At a distance of ten yards, without any warning, Craig let go of the wheel and grabbed the Uzi from the floor of the pontoon. “Hit the deck,” he called to Gina. Then he aimed and blasted away. In the hail of gunfire, bullets ripped into Schiller’s body.

  Craig kept firing shots, striking the captain in the head, who collapsed to the deck. That caused the motorboat to veer wildly. Estrada was out of sight. Craig took down two more sailors. Before the others could get off a decent shot from the spinning and twisting boat, Craig turned up the engine of the pontoon and tore away downstream in the direction of the Falls.

  A minute later, one of the other sailors grabbed the wheel and turned the boat around. They resumed the chase, now heading downstream after the pontoon. Glancing quickly over his shoulder, Craig saw Estrada standing tall, an Uzi in his hand.

  Craig looked skyward with despair. Where the hell is that damn helicopter? He called to Gina, “Keep your eye on their boat.”

  Craig couldn’t stop now or turn around. He knew Estrada would kill them both. Yet, if they kept going, in a matter of minutes they would be going over the Falls to a certain death.

  “What do you see?” he shouted to Gina.

  “They’re setting up a big weapon,” she called back.

  He glanced over his shoulder and saw Estrada’s crew loading up a mobile grenade launcher. From this distance, there wasn’t much chance of missing the pontoon. The blast would blow apart the pontoon and might even cause the engine to explode. Either way, they were doomed.

  Better the unknown to a certain death. He shouted to Gina over the roar of the engine: “Out of the boat. Into the water. Now. Roll. Keep your body low.”

  She looked at him as if he were crazy.

  “Into the water,” he screamed. “Drop deep under the surface. Once they fire that weapon, we have to avoid flying debris and burning particles.”

  As the sailor standing next to Estrada took aim with his grenade launcher, Craig shouted, “Now move. Follow me.”

  Keeping low, he dove into the water, getting clear of the engine of the pontoon. She copied his movements.

  He held his breath and dove down under the swiftly moving muddy water. From the tremors in the water, he was certain the grenade smashed into the pontoon, blasting it into hundreds of pieces.

  When he came up, he frantically searched for Gina. Her head was bobbing in the fast moving current of the brown, muddy river, slightly downstream and off to one side. She had survived. She was waving her hands wildly. They were both too far in the middle to have any chance of reaching shore with no overhanging branch or anything else to grab hold of.

  From Estrada’s boat, sailors began shooting at them with rifles and machine guns. He felt as if they were fish in a barrel at an amusement park. “Ping.” A bullet hit the water two feet away. Spray from the impact smacked him in the face.

  He and Gina had one edge. The river was swollen with spring runoff from a winter of heavy snowfall. The strong and erratic current made it impossible for Estrada’s men to get off a good shot.

  Then suddenly Estrada’s boat stopped moving. The powerful engine reduced to a low din. At first Craig thought the boat had a mechanical problem, and he felt a sudden ray of hope. Then he realized what Estrada was doing. He had no need to pursue or even shoot Craig and Gina. In a few minutes, the water would pull them over the Falls to an almost certain death on the rocks below. Craig thought again of getting to shore, but the river was too wide for that and the current too powerful. In front of them, the thunderous roaring of the water pouring over the Falls was so terrifying that Craig could barely think.

  But what could they do?

  Now they were finished. He was certain of it.

  He could still see Gina’s head. He shouted out, hoping she heard him over the roar of the water, “I’m sorry. I did this to you. I’m …”

  Before he finished the sentence, he heard the sound of a helicopter approaching from behind. Craig twisted around in the water and watched in amazement and joy as an American Blackhawk shot a laser-guided Hellfire missile that blasted into the engine of Estrada’s boat, setting off a huge explosion. The sound was deafening. Flaming pieces of debris and body parts flew into the air. Craig covered his face to avoid being struck by sparks or burning material.

  “Goodbye General Estrada,” he called to the remains of the man who had set all of this in motion. But he had no time to savor the victory. That chopper had only a minute or two to pull them out of the water.

  Knowing how close they were to the Falls, Gina was terrified and screaming hysterically. “Help, help!” She was waving her arms frantically.

  He watched the chopper drift lower and closer to them. A rope ladder was dropped out of the side door. Through a bullhorn, a Marine shouted, “We’re coming for you first, Craig.”

  “No. No,” Craig shouted back. “Get the girl first. Then me.”

  “It won’t work that way. You have to be holding on to the ladder, or we have no chance of picking her up.”

  Craig knew they were right. He had to do it their way.

  The maneuver was one that Craig had done countless times in a CIA training course. But the fast moving current made an always difficult operation even tougher. He reached up to clutch the rope with one hand first. After that, he would grab it with the other.

  The swaying rope ladder was directly overhead. He grabbed for it. His hand was on the last rung, but the water pulled him away.

  “Shit.”

  “We’re coming back,” the Marine called.

  They had lost precious seconds. Keep calm, Craig told himself. They’ll get you. You’ll have time to rescue her.

  The ladder was overhead again. This time, he willed his body with all the strength he could muster to thrust his body up out of the water with both hands above his head and his eyes riveted on that last rung.

  He had it.

  His arms ached. The pain was almost unbearable, but he held on.

  Both his hands were tight on the rope. It was cutting into his skin, but he was impervious to the pain.

&n
bsp; Now came the hard part. “Let’s get the girl,” he shouted.

  One of the Marines was halfway down on the ladder. Another one was on the second step. Each one reached out a hand to the man below until they had a human chain. Each of them stretched to the limit. The chain only as strong as the weakest link. “Don’t try to pull her up,” the Marine shouted to Craig. “Get her in your grasp and hold her. We’ll go over to shore and drop you both on land.”

  The Falls were looming closer and closer. Craig’s right hand was tight in the clutch of the Marine above. His left was poised for now on the last rung, ready to reach for Gina. From his vantage point, he could see over the top of the awesome, deadly Falls. One pass was all they would have time for. One and no more.

  “I’m coming for you,” he shouted to Gina. “Stay calm.”

  With incredible skill, the pilot lowered the chopper so they were right over Gina. Craig took a deep breath and tried to harness his remaining strength. He reached his left arm down, grabbing for Gina’s raised right hand, extending his arm, almost numb, to the limit of the shoulder socket.

  He made contact with her tiny hand. He willed his body to ignore the searing pain in his right arm and shoulder. “Hold onto me,” he screamed.

  Frantically, he tried to tighten his grasp to get a firm hold on her hand. But it was moist and slippery. Her body too weak from the ordeal to help him. With every ounce of strength in his body, he tried to get a solid grip.

  He felt her slipping away.

  God no.

  No.

  No.

  No.

  She was gone. Helplessly, he watched her young, beautiful body with so much promise for life cascading head first over the Falls and into the abyss below.

  He felt a tugging on his arm. The Marine above was pulling him up. They were closing down the human chain, pulling the men one by one into the helicopter.