The QE2 Is Missing

“We have no time to argue, Josep. I do what I must do to obtain my country’s freedom. I will die, if I must, for this freedom. But I will not become a petty thief.”

“Watch your mouth, little man.” Josep was angry, his pistol half drawn. Diaz would not be moved; his hand was on his own gun. Neither man would back down; the tension grew.

They spun about together as the door burst open.

Concepcion was there, wide-eyed and panting for breath. It was the first time that Diaz had ever seen her express any emotion.

“Come… at once,” she gasped. “Something has gone badly wrong. German voices… in the next suite. They must have released the prisoners.”

Josep seized up the diamonds and ran. Diaz stayed behind just long enough to see that the CLOSED sign was in place on the cashier’s office before he slammed and locked the door and hurried after the others.

They were all grouped around the speaker when he reached Hank’s suite, bent close, listening.

Sergeant Pradera’s hands were tied behind his back and he had been thrown to the floor. His face was scratched and bleeding where Admiral Marquez had attacked him with his single hand, hitting and clawing at him before the Germans had dragged him away. Other than this, the Sergeant was not hurt. Though he knew this would not last long. They would want information and knew how to extract it from people. He was aware of this and he knew what was coming. This knowledge did not show on his face, which displayed only stoical calm. His eyes flickered slightly as General Stroessner came raging out of the bedroom, still trailing pieces of the curtain cords that he had been tied with.

“Betrayed,” he shouted. “By my own men! Humiliated. This one will not get away with it, I trusted him____”

He tried to take Klaus’s pistol from him, but the big German held him easily at bay with one hand. Wielgus emerged from the bedroom and walked across the room to stand over the Sergeant. He glared down at him coldly, then became aware of Stroessner’s near hysterical shouting. He turned and struck him across the face with the back of his hand, sending him staggering.

“Be quiet, you Bavarian turd!” he ordered. “I will extract some information and then you may kill the man. Not before. Now go sit down.”

Stroessner was shocked into obeying. He had never been struck before; it was unthinkable. This entire situation was unthinkable. He regretted ever getting involved. He stumbled to the sofa and dropped onto it, scarcely aware of Admiral Marquez sitting next to him. Major de Laiglesia was at the bar and he called out to him hoarsely.

“Gin. Quickly! A large glass.”

“Put him in the chair,” Wielgus ordered. Klaus and Colonel Hartig took Sergeant Pradera under the arms and heaved him up. Wielgus came and stood over him, staring down coldly.

“You will now tell me what I want to know. Josep was seen, so we know that the Tupamaros are involved. Who else? There must be Paraguayan filth like you. How many? What are their plans? How much did they know? Is the Czech involved — and our diamonds? Do you understand, Sergeant? I have many questions. I want answers to them. You are a strong man and you mean to resist me so I will now make you weaker.”

As he talked he drew his pistol and cocked it, then bent forward. He placed the muzzle against the Sergeant’s kneecap and pulled the trigger.

The sound of the shot was loud in the enclosed space of the room. Under the impact of the bullet the leg jumped and the kneecap was splintered and destroyed. Despite his efforts at control a hoarse moan escaped from Pradera’s lips, Wielgus smiled.

“You felt that, didn’t you, Sergeant? The kneecap, all injuries there are particularly painful. And you have another kneecap, don’t you, Sergeant? And many other delicate parts of your body. Perhaps I shall cut your balls off, take away your manhood. Would you like that? Think of all the places where I can hurt you and, believe me, I shall. Perhaps, yet, the other kneecap next. I shall not kill you, not for a long time, and then perhaps only if you beg me for death because the pain will be so great. Now answer my questions, do not delay.”

Pradera looked up at Wielgus, his face expressionless again. But his lower lip was between his teeth and a slow trickle of blood ran down over his chin.

As the two Tupamaros were maneuvering the heavy sack through the door of Hank’s suite, the room steward, Robert appeared behind them.

“What’s happening here? I’m sorry, this is very extraordinary…. “ His words were cut off as Concepcion came up and jabbed her gun into his kidneys, forcing him into the suite behind the others, then closing the door. Robert could only gape around at the armed men. It was Uzi who took in the situation and acted fast; pointing his gun at Hank.

“Who is this man? Do you know him?”

Hank picked up the cue. “He’s the room steward — don’t harm him.”