Good Men

"The good man is the man who, no matter how morally unworthy he has been, is moving to become better." John Dewey

Chapter 9: The Greatest Treasures

Cloud was lying on her uninjured side, eyes closed, but Nelson knew she wasn't asleep. He sat down heavily beside her and took the compress from her forehead, submerging it in a dish of cool water. While he swished it back and forth he laid his other hand against her burning skin. "I know you're awake. I want to talk to you about the raid."

"Go away." She didn't open her eyes.

He wrung out the cloth and placed it gently against her cheek. "I hoped I was teaching you better manners."

"I don't need them."

"Oh." Nelson's eyes widened. "Oh, I see. You don't need them. Why not, may I ask?"

"Harry, stop." Cloud's voice was weary. "I know what you're trying to do, but it's no use." She looked at him then and her eyes were as dull and expressionless as when they'd first met. "From the moment that bullet hit me, there's been only one way this can end. I'm glad it didn't kill me outright, though." She swallowed convulsively and reached for his hand. "I'm glad I met you. You've given me confidence to face the end." Nelson dropped his head as he listened to her, his thumb rubbing her fingers absently. "I only have a few more hours. Please don't make this hard for me." She looked at him pleadingly. "Please, Harry!"

Nelson's head shot up and Cloud recoiled from the anger in his eyes. "Don't make this hard for you?" he snarled. "By God, it should be hard! Do you think death is easy? Did it seem that way last night with Wilson's patrol? Think— I put myself in their hands for only one reason: so you could live!" He held her shoulders tightly and she gasped at the strength of his grip. "I can read your thoughts so easily! You're going into that building with the idea that somewhere between the entrance and the exit you'll stop another bullet. Your wound's infected anyway and that would be nice and neat, wouldn't it? A hero's death for Lord Hurricane's son!"

Tears overflowed Cloud's eyes, streaming down her face. "What choice do I have? Do you want me to die of gangrene? You think I'm just a child, but I know enough to understand what's happening to me! I'm trying to be brave!"

"Try harder!" Nelson released her and sat back, studying her appraisingly. "You're right, Cloud. I've been thinking the same thing since you were shot—there is only one way for this to end. But the conclusion I've come to isn't the same as yours. I've had enough of your fatalism and defiance. I don't pity you and I don't excuse you. Hurricane may let you do what you please even if it leads to your death, but I won't." He paused and when he resumed his voice was again the familiar one she craved, the one that comforted and explained, patiently answering all her questions. "When I leave with Crane, I want you to come with me."

"Come with you? To America?" Cloud's voice hitched. "No. No, I can't. At least I have honor here. I can't be a gun runner or a smuggler…"

"Child," Nelson said, smoothing away her tears, "do you really think I'm an arms dealer?" He didn't wait for her reply, since it was so unnecessary. "I have a sister," he continued. "She's not married and she's very intelligent and kind. I think you'll get along well."

"I want to be with you!"

"Well," he smiled, "a sailor's life isn't conducive to raising children, I'm afraid. But I promise I'll visit as often as I can. You can go to school and study to be a doctor or whatever you want." He looked at her seriously. "You'll never have to kill again and never have to be afraid of being killed."

"You'd save me? From all of this?"

"No." He shook his head emphatically. "No, you can't think of it that way. It's not within my power to save you. Starting a new life is hard. There will be days when you'll hate me and days when you'll hate yourself. You'll be homesick and confused and angry. But you'll be alive. You'll be safe. And maybe, if you're as strong and brave as I believe you to be, you'll save yourself. Will you try, Cloud? Will you try to live?"

"For you?" She reached out and touched Nelson's cheek, rough with three days growth of beard. He nodded, his throat too constricted to speak, and she saw all she needed in his eyes. "I'll try," she whispered. "I'll be careful on the raid and will do as you say. But I don't think it will be any use. My father will never allow me to go with you."

"Leave that to me," he said.

X X X

They rested until after midnight, snatching a few hours of sleep. When the moon was high and all was quiet below, they rose and checked their gear for the last time. Then Nelson set off down the hillside, silent and alone, and the rest of them followed at a distance. The admiral drew close to the facility, blending in with a group of fresh security personnel coming on duty. Crane watched him light a cigarette and smoke it nonchalantly, as if he were savoring one last luxury before starting a long shift. Then he ground the stub out beneath his boot and slipped inside the gate with the other mercenaries.

The captain sighed, rubbing his chin. "Well, so far, so good. At least he's in." They waited for what seemed an eternity, although it couldn't have been more than a quarter of an hour.

"I'll bet you five dollars he's been caught," Wind muttered as the minutes passed without any sign from Nelson. "Five dollars American."

"Who'd want to bet on a thing like that?" Storm said. "If he's caught we will be, too. You'd hardly be able to collect, would you?"

"Be quiet, both of you!" Cloud hissed. Storm raised his eyebrow at Wind over her head. The big man could feel the anxiety radiating from the child's body as she stared fixedly at the facility, her worried gaze scanning the walls. Suddenly there was a flash of light on the north side of the building, followed quickly by two more.

"Time to move." Hurricane crept forward, his rifle held low and ready, with Crane flanking him on the right and Storm on the left.

From the bottom of the hill, they had to cross eighty yards of open ground before reaching the edge of the enclosure. As they approached, they saw Nelson crouching inside the outer fence, wire cutters dangling from his hand. He gestured them through the hole he'd made, holding Cloud up while Wind squeezed inside after her. She leaned against him, favoring her hurt leg, searching his face with wide, fever-bright eyes. "Mind yourself." The words were so soft she might have imagined them. Cloud nodded, setting her jaw tightly against the pain as Wind swept her into his arms again.

"The alarms were harder to disable than I'd expected," Nelson whispered to Crane as the captain wriggled through the fence to stand beside him. "Everything I've seen is state-of-the-art. I wonder how a two-bit dictator like Wilson is financing all this!"

"PR?" Lee shot a quick glance at the admiral. "A symbiotic relationship: he has the perfect location to do the work and they pay for it?"

"You might be onto something." They slipped through an unmarked side door into a cool, dark garage. Hurricane ordered one of his men to stand guard while the others explored the room. A fan whirred softly in the middle of the ceiling, its blades stirring up dust, but otherwise all was quiet.

"Hey, Skipper!" Kowalski whispered loudly, motioning Crane over. "There's a truck here we could use to get out with the gold."

"Are the keys in the ignition?"

Ski's face fell. "No. I don't see them on the seats, either."

"I can hotwire it," Storm offered. "Boss, what do you think?"

Hurricane took a quick look and nodded. "It will do. Get to work on it." He crossed to the stairway that led out of the garage to the next level. "You," he gestured to Nelson, "you're in uniform, so it won't matter if you're seen. Find out if there are cameras out there."

Crane frowned at the peremptory way the rebel leader spoke to the admiral, but Nelson seemed to take it in stride. Bowing his head, he ducked through the door. They waited nervously until he returned, slipping back through and shutting it firmly behind him.

"Well?" Crane looked at him expectantly.

"There's a short stairway leading to a hall with cameras installed at regular intervals. I walked down it and saw a security room about halfway along," he said. "There's no way to get through unseen unless we take out the guards monitoring the cameras. Then we need to turn them off unless we want to be caught on tape."

"Can you do it?" Hurricane asked.

Nelson didn't answer right away. "I don't want to kill the guards," he said finally. "Not unaware, in cold blood. I will if I have to, but I don't want to."

Hurricane looked at him contemptuously. "You don't have any stomach for killing, I suppose?"

"No, I don't." Cloud opened her mouth, but Nelson shot her a warning glance. "I'd prefer to interrupt power in the hallway. The backup generators will come on, but we should have a few moments to overpower the guards before that happens."

"Do it."

Nelson set to work with Patterson at his shoulder holding a light. Hurricane and the rest waited near the door. After a few moments, Nelson looked up. "Ready?" Hurricane gave a brisk nod and Nelson cut the power. The men immediately rushed up the stairs, moving swiftly and soundlessly towards the guardroom.

Storm looked up from inside the truck. "Not bad. You should teach me how to do that."

"It's not much harder than what you're doing now. I wish I could show you, but I'm afraid time's in short supply." Nelson looked over at Wind, who had stayed behind holding Cloud. The big man looked unhappy to be missing all the action. The admiral grasped his arm. "Come along. Let's see how it's going."

Nelson emerged into the hallway with Wind close behind. They arrived at the guardroom just as Kowalski and Patterson were removing the uniforms of three unconscious men who'd been on duty. Hurricane and Crane turned off all the cameras in their section of the building, leaving the wall of monitors dark. Then they put on two of the uniforms and Kowalski tugged on the other. "Let's get this done before someone notices," Hurricane said.

They moved as quickly as they could down unfamiliar halls, memorizing the turns as they made them. Hurricane and Crane led them into the heart of the facility, a cavernous room with a huge evaporator and condenser apparatus. While Nelson examined the equipment, Crane brought out the camera Hurricane had loaned him and began taking photos. Nelson ran his hand lightly over the condenser and looked up to see Cloud watching him closely as she often had before. This time she returned Nelson's faint smile. He walked over to where Wind had deposited her on the floor.

"How does it work?" He didn't ask why she assumed he'd know.

"Well, seawater is collected in the evaporator over there." He pointed to the gleaming monster in the center of the room. "I don't have enough time to discover how Wilson has managed to make it so much more efficient than evaporators I've seen before. Look at the volume of water it's handling!" He turned and watched it for a moment with what Cloud thought was a touch of envy. "The water is evaporated, leaving the solids—not just gold, but other elements like chlorine and bromine, too. Then the condenser turns the water vapor back to its liquid form and it's put back into the bay. The gold can be extracted from the other solids." He shook his head in wonder. "I'd known this was possible, but I never imagined someone would develop an evaporator efficient enough to make it worthwhile." He stood watching the system at work, hands on hips.

"Wind, I need you!" There was an uncharacteristic note of excitement in Hurricane's voice. His voice echoed through the chamber and the big man hurried across the room to his side. The rebel leader was examining a large safe built into the wall. Wind flung himself in front of it, brought out a stethoscope, and set to work.

Crane leaned over his shoulder. "I had no idea you're a safe cracker."

"I know lots of things." Wind didn't look up, but diligently kept at his delicate work until the safe swung open suddenly, surprising them all. Hurricane reached in eagerly, bringing out fistfuls of gold.

X X X

They made their way back to the garage as quickly as they could, past the dark monitors and down the silent hall. Two of Hurricane's men took control of the gold, but Crane didn't feel cheated. The images safely stored in the camera were worth far more. The captain smiled with grim satisfaction as he contemplated the headaches in store for Wilson. There were sure to be repercussions when the photos were developed and the admiral put them in the right hands. Of course, he mused, Hurricane's rebels getting control of such wealth was bound to cause problems for the dictator, as well. And if the Peoples' Republic was involved, Crane imagined they wouldn't be very happy, either.

Storm looked up when the group burst back into the garage. "Let's go," Hurricane said. He pointed to Crane. "You drive." He jumped in the passenger side of the cab and Storm connected the wires while the rest of them piled into the back of the truck. As the captain slowly inched the truck forward, Storm opened the garage doors, then flung himself in the back with the others as they passed through.

Crane felt sweat prickle his scalp as they approached the gate, but his expression was cool, even bored, as he stopped for the sentry.

"Where do you think you're going at this hour?" The man eyed him suspiciously.

Crane yawned. "Yeah, I know- it's a real bitch, but there's been some rebel activity in the jungle and we've got orders to be up there at daybreak to check it out."

The sentry grimaced. "Better you than me. Those are some tough bastards."

"Well, we don't get to choose." Crane waved to him as he put the truck in gear and slowly pulled away. Once he was out of sight, he doubled-back towards the bay. He grinned at Hurricane and was surprised to see the hint of a smile on the rebel leader's face.

"You're a cool customer, aren't you, Crane? I wonder what an arms dealer wants with photos of Wilson's facility?"

"Maybe I'll sell them to the highest bidder."

"I'll be interested to see where they end up."

"If I can't get a launch and reach my boat, they won't end up anywhere," Crane said.

"We're almost there." They drove down a dark road towards the water and Hurricane pointed to a dock ahead, illuminated in the truck's headlights. "There are always a number of small boats tied up here. I still think you're taking a big risk going to sea in one of them. What if you can't contact your men? It's been days—they've probably given up on you by now."

"Oh, I doubt that," Crane said with a smile. "My right-hand man is likely to be pretty sore with me, though."

"About the gold," Hurricane said sagely.

Crane didn't answer but his smile deepened. He pulled up to the dock and the men in the back jumped out. Storm took out a light and stood at the water's edge signaling across the bay, while Kowalski and Patterson looked for a likely boat to steal. It took them a few minutes before they found a sleek, little skiff with a powerful motor. Hurricane's boat came up out of the darkness just as they were showing it to Crane for his approval.

"All right—let's go!" Hurricane said. "Get the gold onboard and move! Wind, get Cloud."

The big man started toward the back of the truck where Cloud lay watching them. He had only taken a few steps when Nelson moved into his path. He stood almost casually, hands in pockets, but his feet were firmly planted. The scowl on Crane's face matched the one on Hurricane's, and he wondered if the admiral had finally and irrevocably taken leave of his senses.

"What is the meaning of this?" Hurricane said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"I think the meaning's plain," Nelson replied. "Cloud isn't going with you. She's coming with me."