watched Callas being frogmarched through the crowd. ‘Gurov, get us out of here.’
The gunship changed course, sweeping away into the darkness over the city.
‘It’s Callas!’ Nina said as the cameraman zoomed in on the man being forced towards the building. ‘They’ve arrested him!’
‘We’ll see,’ said Eddie, more wary. ‘It might be a trap.’ But the gunfire had stopped, and the soldiers were retreating to leave a space outside the entrance. The two sides genuinely seemed in a state of uneasy truce.
Suarez hurried into the lobby, followed by the man in the yellow tie, now powering up a professional video camera. The President ordered that the barricades be moved from the doors.
‘You sure that’s a good idea?’ Macy asked him.
‘I want to see him face to face,’ came the reply. ‘And the people have to see that I am still in charge.’ Then he addressed the little group of foreign visitors in English. ‘I have not said thank you – you saved my life. You saved my country. Thank you.’ He added something in Spanish, then strode to the doors as the blockade was cleared.
‘What did he say?’ asked Kit.
‘That we’re heroes of the socialist revolution, and we’ll all get medals,’ Macy told him. She grimaced. ‘That’s not something I’m gonna be wearing around Miami.’
‘I can see it wouldn’t be too popular,’ said Nina, amused.
Eddie huffed. ‘Can’t we just get money?’
The station personnel opened the doors. There was a moment of tension as Suarez was revealed to the world outside, standing in plain view of any potential assassin, but it passed. People began to cheer. Suarez waved his hands for silence as he stepped into the open. The cameraman bustled after him to record the scene.
The soldiers brought the struggling Callas to a stop in front of the President. Nina and Eddie watched as the two men faced each other. Suarez spoke first. ‘Salbatore. I never thought it would be you who turned against me.’
‘That’s because you’re blind, Tito,’ Callas spat. ‘You’re living in a fantasy world.’ Sarcasm twisted his lips. ‘All your glorious revolution will do is make everyone poor. Our country needs strength, not dreams!’
‘The strength of the dictator?’
‘Isn’t that what we have now?’ the general countered.
Suarez drew in a long breath, his expression cold. ‘Salbatore Delgado Callas,’ he said. ‘You are under arrest. Your crime is treason.’ He nodded to the soldiers. ‘Take him away.’
They turned, pulling Callas with them. He resisted – causing one of the soldiers to stumble.
It was enough for Callas to break one arm free.
He snatched the pistol from the captain’s holster and whipped it round at Suarez—
A single gunshot cracked across the plaza. In Suarez’s hand was the pistol he had taken from Rojas. The soldiers holding the general jumped back in shock. Callas stared at the bullet wound in his chest, mouth wide in silent pain.
He looked back at Suarez, trying with his last breath to bring up his own gun and pull the trigger . . .
Then he collapsed at his enemy’s feet, blood pooling around him.
The coup was over.
25
‘So, Mac,’ said Eddie, with a twinge of stiff and bruised muscles as he raised a glass of beer, ‘how does it feel to be back in action?’
The Scot regarded him through narrowed eyes. ‘What, you mean apart from the injuries, the fear, the gunshots and car crashes and explosions, and losing my leg – again?’ He thumped the heel of his reattached prosthetic limb on the floor.
‘Yeah, apart from all that.’
Mac smiled and raised his own drink. ‘Rather good, actually. Cheers!’
‘Cheers.’ The two men clinked glasses.
Over twenty-four hours had passed since the end of Callas’s attempted revolution, and the pair were sitting in the hotel bar. It had been a busy day for all of the group. In addition to receiving medical treatment for their numerous battle scars, the various members had then had to deal with officialdom, both Venezuelan and from their own countries. Eddie and Mac had been summoned to the British embassy, Kit went to make his report at the local Interpol headquarters, and Nina and Macy were whisked away by a cavalcade of black SUVs to deal with the US ambassador. The meeting for the two Brits had been relatively short; as Mac had told Eddie, the United Kingdom’s interest in Venezuela was minor, and beyond expressing a regret that Suarez hadn’t suffered an injury that would force him to leave office, the MI6 officer debriefing them stuck to obtaining a purely factual account of events.