Zero Option

“All right, Mr. Belasko. Let’s sit down. I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

When they were seated, the doctor took a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Jack Grimaldi was brought in about five hours ago. He had taken one hell of a beating. We have three broken ribs on his left side. Came close to puncturing his lung. He also has three broken fingers in his left hand. In addition his upper torso, arms and face are showing severe bruising associated with the beating he took. He has a slight fracture in his right cheekbone, and it looks like someone kicked him above the right eye. Left a deep gash. His eye has swollen so he won’t be able to see for a while. In nontechnical terms your friend has been well and truly worked over.”

“Are any of the injuries life threatening?”

“No, but he’s going to be out of action for a while.”

“Is he awake?”

The doctor sighed; he knew what was coming.

“You want to see him?”

“I understand he needs rest. I’m not going to be there long, and I’m not about to put him under any kind of stress. I just need to see him for a couple of minutes. Then I’m gone.”

The doctor stood and beckoned for Bolan to follow him.

“If I say no, you’ll just keep pestering me. Am I right?”

“You got it.”

“I’ve already sent the police away when they wanted to question him. So why am I letting you in?”

“Did the police ask as nicely as I did?”

The doctor shook his head and chuckled.

Bolan followed the medic down the hall and to the private room where he could see Grimaldi’s prone shape on the bed through the window.

“I’ll be outside,” the doctor said. “And I’ll be watching. Any signs of distress, and I’m hauling you straight out. He’s been sedated to ease the pain, so he might not be fully awake.”

“Understood. And thanks.”

Bolan eased into the room. The lights were low and the room was silent except for Grimaldi’s slightly harsh breathing. As the soldier stood beside the bed, looking down at his friend, Grimaldi’s good eye opened and he stared up at his visitor.

“Hey, Sarge, thanks for showing up.”

“I’m going to make this quick,” Bolan said. “Your doc’s got his eye on me.”

“Sarge, they took her. They took Jess.”

“Who were they?”

“I don’t know. But they looked like they had military training at some time. The guy in charge had close-cropped white-blond hair. I got one in on his left cheek before they put me down.”

Grimaldi was talking slowly so as not to increase any pain he was suffering. It still had to have hurt, Bolan realized, seeing the strain on his friend’s face.

“Any idea why they wanted Jess?”

“The only thing I can tell you is she told me she’d had a call from her late father’s brother. Jess was out at the time, and he left a message on her answering machine. She hadn’t had contact with him for some time. He’s in the Air Force, Sarge, and his name is Doug Buchanan. The call came out of the blue. Jess said he sounded like he was under some strain. He warned her not to talk to anyone about hearing from him and to watch out for strangers. Coincidence?” Grimaldi fell silent for a moment. “What could they want from her, Mack?”

Bolan rested a gentle hand on Grimaldi’s shoulder. “Let me worry about that. One way or the other, I’ll find out.”

Grimaldi nodded, satisfied. He knew Mack Bolan well enough to accept those few words as a promise.

“You rest easy.”

Bolan turned to leave. At the door he paused as he heard Grimaldi’s whispered thanks. When he turned to look back, the Stony Man pilot had drifted into a tranquilized sleep.

Back in the corridor Bolan thanked the doctor and made his way outside. He stood in the warm afternoon sun, considering his next move. There was, he realized, only a single option open to him. Bolan walked to the street and picked up a cab. He told the driver his destination, then settled back and watched the tourists going about their business, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Taking time out to be a tourist had been the reason Bolan had come to Nassau. He had finally accepted Grimaldi’s invitation to join him and Jess on the island for a few days, and had been looking forward to the brief R&R. A break from the battlegrounds that dominated his life. Bolan might have dedicated himself to a life of struggle against the forces of evil, but he wasn’t so immersed that he failed to realize the need for a moment of respite. Endless missions took their toll. Time out had been called—but even that looked as if it was about to be canceled.

THE CAB DROPPED Bolan at the entrance to the charter airstrip next to Nassau International Airport. He paid the driver and crossed to the security hut. The soldier had spoken to the uniformed man earlier when he had arrived. Earl was in his late fifties, quiet spoken.

“How’s Jack?” he asked.

“He’ll pull through,” Bolan said. “That beating he took is going to keep him in hospital for a while.”

“Damned shame. I like Jack. Him and Miss Jess made a nice couple. I know he couldn’t get over here to see her as often as he wanted, but when he did they always had a good time. Miss Jess got real excited every time he called to say he was coming in.”

The Stony Man flier had that effect on people. His outgoing personality reached out to embrace anyone he met. Bolan didn’t fail to notice the way the security man talked about him. Jack—not Mr. Grimaldi.

“After it happened were the police told?”

Earl nodded. “They sent an officer after I called. He took my statement and had a look around. Thing was, the place was pretty quiet when it happened. Hardly anyone around. The cop who came, well, he didn’t put much effort into things. Problem is, the police are down on manpower. They didn’t even send down an experienced officer. He looked like he just got out of training school. He was a kid. Hardly knew the right questions to ask. Listen, Mr. Belasko, I know you’re a friend of Jack and all. I just wonder what’s going to happen to Miss Jess. Where is she? What did those people want with her?”

“I don’t know. But I want to find out. Earl, you mind if I go in and take a look around?”

“You take all the time you need. I got a phone in my booth. Anybody shows up I’ll make a call to Miss Jess’s office.”

Bolan made his way along the strip, crossing the concrete apron that took him by other charter companies until he was able to spot Jess Buchanan’s place.

He walked through the open hangar, making his way to Jess’s office. He hadn’t expected to find anything visible to offer any information. Bolan went directly to the telephone and checked the number. He took out his cell phone and speed-dialed Stony Man. The call was bounced off the satellite link and rerouted through a series of cutouts to the Farm. Bolan’s call was answered by Barbara Price herself. Bolan identified himself and told her what he wanted.

“I’ll get Aaron on it. How’s Jack?”

“Not at his best right now. He’s going to need some time to recover.”

“Listen, Mack, we’ll make sure he’s looked after. What do you need?”

“For now that check on all recent incoming calls to Jess Buchanan’s number. The only connection with her disappearance seems to be this out-of-the-blue call from her uncle. Doug Buchanan didn’t want Jess to say anything about his contacting her. Sounds like he was expecting problems.”

“You think maybe he’s in trouble with the Air Force?”

“Right now I don’t have any idea. Look into his background. See what you can find. If he was in trouble with his own people, I can’t see them handling it the way it happened. You going to have any problems getting information from the Air Force?”

“Let me worry about that. I’ll call the minute we have anything.” Price paused. “You take care.”