‘Jason.’ Hunt’s voice reached out from the darkness.
Brand struggled to his feet. ‘Here.’
The pale oval of Hunt’s face appeared. He had a fresh cut above his left eye but seemed otherwise unhurt.
‘I suggest we beat a hasty retreat,’ he said.
Brand nodded. ‘Good thinking.’
For a moment Hunt hesitated. ‘Did you bring Rumboy?’
‘He’s over on the far side of the house,’ Brand said. ‘I told him to give me a half hour then get back to Agua Verde and get help. I hope to hell he’s got sense enough to go sooner.’
‘If I know Rumboy, he’ll have heard all the racket and be well on his way. He has a unique sense of timing.’
‘Let’s hope it hasn’t run out,’ Brand said. ‘Best thing we can do is head away from the house. Won’t be long before Kwo Han works out where we are.’
They broke into a run, cutting across a paved terrace which gave way to wide lawns. Beyond the lawns rose the dark mass of thick foliage and trees. Brand had no way of knowing what lay beyond the trees, or even where their way was taking them. It didn’t seem to make much difference. The prime objective was to get away from Kwo Han and his men. There was no doubt in Brand’s mind now that as far as he and Hunt were concerned it had become a simple matter of staying alive. Kwo Han’s order to his men would be short and direct.
Kill them both.
The Tong Master’s existence in Mexico was threatened as long as Brand and Hunt were alive and capable of striking back.
With only yards to go before they reached the cover of the dense foliage a rattle of gunshots broke through the steady sound of the wind and rain. Brand heard the sodden thump of a bullet kicking up a chunk from the smooth lawn close by. He didn’t waste time returning the fire. In this darkness it was unlikely he’d hit anything, and he didn’t have the ammunition to spare. Trying to ignore the uneasy feeling that had developed in the pit of his stomach he ran on, following Hunt into the dark mass of foliage.
They paused for a moment to catch their breath. Hunt touched Brand’s shoulder.
‘Look at that,’ he said.
Brand turned and saw the rising orange glow over the house. A writhing mass of flame gouging a ruddy hole in the black sky. Showers of bright sparks exploded every so often, and over it all hovered a pall of smoke.
‘One way and another, old chum, we’ve pushed our Mr. Han into a position where he’s got to do something drastic.’
‘I just want to be there when he does it,’ Brand said. ‘And I’d prefer to be alive as well,’ he added, reminding Hunt about their pursuers.
The thick undergrowth made progress slow. The near-complete darkness didn’t make it any easier. Brand glanced skywards and spotted a pale moon fighting to shine through the dark, massed clouds. He cursed the foul weather, hating the unceasing lash of the rain as much as the heavy wind. The ground underfoot was waterlogged, the earth turned to a sticky, clinging mud that caught at his boots and seemed reluctant to let go. The only consolation to it all came from the knowledge that Kwo Han’s men were having to endure the same conditions.
Gradually the undergrowth thinned out. Brand noticed there seemed to be more water on the ground than seemed natural. The fact came home with a vengeance. As he put his foot down he realised there was nothing beneath it. Unable to stop himself he plunged waist deep in cold, dirty water. He heard a heavy splash close by and knew that Hunt had done the same.
‘Watch your step,’ Hunt called. ‘Seems as if we’ve wandered into a blasted stretch of swamp. There could be quicksand. If you do get caught in some don’t struggle. Only helps to bury you quicker.’
‘That’s a comforting thought.’
Testing the slimy bed of the swamp at each step Brand and Hunt slowly waded through the scummy water. Tall weeds grew high above the surface, their roots buried deep in the black mud below. Many of the trees had their roots below water too and their trunks were covered in an oozing fungus. Pungent gas, trapped beneath the mud, was disturbed by their passing. It rose to the surface in great bubbles, bursting as it came into contact with the air. The resultant odour was strong enough to make their eyes water.
‘Hold it,’ Brand called.
Hunt froze and they both listened to the not too distant voices calling back and forth in agitated Spanish. Brand eased his body round as he heard the rustle of weeds being disturbed. At that moment the moon broke through the cloud. Pale light silvered the gloom. A dark figure rose out of the weeds, the moonlight glinting on the barrel of a revolver. Brand saw the revolver swinging its muzzle towards him. He whipped his Colt round and fired. His shot threw a lance of flame into the darkness, the sound of the shot echoing out across the water. Somewhere a disturbed bird rose into the air, wings flapping in alarm, its shrill cry seeming to mimic the scream of the man hit by Brand’s bullet.
‘The bastards are closer than I thought,’ Brand snapped. He plunged ahead of Hunt, his eyes straining to see through the shadows ahead, suspecting every movement, no matter how slight. He was on edge now, keyed up, and trusting no one except himself.
Yards to his right he heard the splash of someone jumping into the water. He caught sight of the widening rings of displaced water. Behind him he heard the click of Hunt’s gun going on to full cock. Then the blast of a shot filled his ears. Hunt fired again and a man grunted. There was a frenzied splashing and then silence.
In the distance they heard more shouting. Some in Chinese, more in Spanish. Brand’s limited vocabulary allowed him to pick up some of the Spanish. Simply translated Kwo Han’s men were still searching for Brand and Hunt. The storm was making it hard for them and there was a degree of resentment at being out in the wind and rain and stuck in the swamp.
Brand felt no pity for the men. They were on a death hunt, searching for the two men who had escaped Han’s clutches. Given the chance the pursuers would shoot down Brand and Hunt without a thought. So any discomfort they experienced was well deserved as far as Jason Brand was concerned.
Brand felt the water becoming shallower. The soft mud beneath his feet started to turn solid and after a few more minutes he gratefully waded onto firm ground, Hunt close behind. They didn’t stop, but simply moved on, through the dense foliage and trees.
Another shot filled the night with its ugly sound. The bullet embedded itself in a tree only a foot from Brand’s head. He dropped to his knees, crawling to the cover of a rotted log. Hunt stretched out beside him. The air was suddenly full of bullets. A ragged volley of shots ripping through the foliage and tearing white gashes in the tree bark.
‘What do you think of Yucatan now?’ Hunt asked dryly.
Brand didn’t look up from reloading his Colt. ‘It’s just like home.’ he said.
‘At least we know where Han is.’
Brand grunted. ‘Fat lot of good it’s going to do if we don’t light out of here.’
Twisting over on to his back Hunt studied the sky. ‘Another couple of hours it’s going to be dawn. We’ll be able to see where we are.’
‘And so will they. Either way we play it we end up with a lousy hand.’
‘Do I detect signs of defeat?’
‘I didn’t think you British ever used that word.’
‘You think?’
Gunfire filled the night with noise. Bullets chewed into the log, showering Brand and Hunt with rotted wood. As the blast of sound faded away Brand raised his head, straining his ears. He caught the soft sound of someone running, and knew he’d guessed right. The shooting had been a cover. Giving one of Han’s men the opportunity of reaching their hiding place. Brand listened for another second, placing the running figure. He leaned across the top of the log, levelling his Colt. A moment later the man was illuminated by a patch of moonlight. Brand recognised the face. It was Lex Dwyer. The heavy Colt in Brand’s hand exploded twice. The bullets smashed Dwyer backwards. He twisted as he fell, hitting the ground on his face, the gun in his hand going off with a muffled sound.
‘You want to stay here or chance moving?’ Brand asked.
‘I always feel better during a running fight,’ the Britisher replied. ‘Never have been able to just sit and wait.’
Brand touched Hunt’s arm and pointed out the direction he intended taking. Hunt nodded. Together they rose to their feet, clearing the log, driving forward into the gloom. Ahead of them lay a dark spread of dense forest, an overlapping mass of trees and foliage. They plunged into the greenery, bullets snapping at their heels. Brand felt something tug at his left sleeve but it was the only bullet to come close.
They kept up the hectic pace for ten minutes. Eventually they slowed, allowing their tired bodies to rest. As they paused Brand realised that the rain had slackened, the high wind dropping too. It didn’t stop completely but it was obvious that the storm’s full power had been spent. There was still the steady fall of the rain against the dripping foliage and the ground underfoot was still sodden.
‘It always happens like this,’ Hunt remarked. ‘A storm hits and while it lasts it really lets rip. Then it slacks off, ends, and a couple of hours later you wonder if it ever happened at all.’
Far behind them Brand could hear the sounds of their pursuers. Hunt had picked up the sound too. The cessation of the full storm was making it easier for their pursuers too.
‘If we cut off to the east we should pick up a river,’ Hunt said. ‘Somewhere along it is a spot where it joins a road which will take us back to Agua Verde.’
Brand looked doubtful. ‘I’d like to get hold of a horse as soon as possible.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’m trying to figure how Han’s feeling right now. He’ll be deciding what chances he has left. We know too much about his plans, and he’ll be aware of that. He’s got a damn great pile of gold he wants to sell, and a big deal ready to be made. He’s going to figure the Mexican authorities may be about to close in on him. So I’m betting he’s going to move that gold. Right now. If he gets it out of the country he’ll feel safer. Somewhere along this coast he’ll have that ship of his ready and waiting. He’ll be forced to use it now we’ve forced his hand.’
Hunt stared at him for a moment, his face hardening.
‘You’re right, Jason. It makes good sense. He isn’t going to sit and wait for everything to blow up in his face. It doesn’t matter to Kwo Han where he makes his deal for the gold. It wouldn’t even be too much trouble for him to sail right to his customer’s back door. Bringing the gold to Yucatan was the easy way to remove it from US hands. He’ll be figuring to move it away again.’
‘Yeah? Well not if I’ve got anything to do with it,’ Brand said with feeling.