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lly astounding range of sexual appetites。 It had gotten boring toward the end； and dangerous。 When Wilson had reinjured his right knee before the crucial Pittsburgh Steelers game in 1977； the Miami Dolphins had put out a press release saying it had happened in a practice scrimmage…when in fact Viceroy's knee had hyperextended on a water bed beneath two limber sisters who worked in a foundry on the Allegheny。
Later； when he became a revolutionary； Viceroy Wilson made a vow not to mix sex and sedition。 He wanted to be remembered as a very professional terrorist。
He attached no symbolism to the red Jockey shorts。
〃What're you lookin' at？〃 he asked Renee LeVoux as he toweled off。
From the bed his prisoner just stared in fright。
Moments later a key rattled in the door and another man slipped into the motel room。 Viceroy Wilson greeted him with a grunt and a nod of the head。 Renee was struck by the difference in the two figures and thought it odd that they could be partners。 Wilson's panion was a wiry Latin…looking man who spoke sibilantly and moved catlike about the room。 Craning her neck from the bed； Renee could see the two of them conferring in the kitchenette。 Soon she smelled coffee and bacon； and her stomach began to make noises。 Viceroy Wilson approached the bed and removed the gag from her mouth。
〃If you scream； you're dead。〃
〃I won't； I promise。〃
〃Your name is Renee？〃
She nodded； obviously they had her purse。 〃You can have all the money in my wallet；〃 she offered。
〃We don't want your money。〃 Viceroy Wilson slid one hand under her head and lifted it slightly off the pillow； with the other he held a cup of coffee to her lips。 She slurped at it timorously。
〃Thank you。〃
〃What's your boyfriend's name？〃
Wilson put the coffee cup down。 Renee LeVoux noticed that he had a pencil and a piece of paper。
〃Why do you want to know？〃 she asked。
〃We're going to write him a letter。 Tell him you're okay。〃
〃Oh no！〃
〃Oh yes。〃
Now there were two faces hovering over her； one black and indifferent； one thin and fierce。 The thin man was sneering。 He tore the blanket away and saw that Renee was dressed only in her panties。
〃Don't hurt me！〃 Renee cried。
The thin man brandished a shiny knife。
〃Oh please no；〃 Renee cried。
The black man ferociously seized the thin man by the wrist and twisted his arm。 The thin man yelped and the knife fell into the bedding。
〃Hay…zoose； don't ever try that shit again；〃 Viceroy Wilson said。 He was thinking to himself： This is the problem when you work with Cuban lunatics。 They can't go five minutes without pulling a pistol or a blade。 They couldn't help it…it was something in their DNA molecules。
〃Renee； my name is Mr。 Wilson。 This here is Mr。 Bernal。〃
Renee said； 〃How do you do？〃
Wilson sighed。 〃We need the name of your boyfriend； and we need it now。〃
〃I'm not telling。 I don't want you to hurt him。〃
〃Girl； we don't want to hurt him。 We want to let him know what happened to you。〃
Puzzled； Renee asked； 〃What did happen to me？〃
〃You've been kidnapped by a group of dangerous radicals。〃
〃God！ But I'm nobody。〃
〃That's true；〃 said Jesus Bernal； fishing through the bed for his blade。
〃Why me？ I'm just a tourist。〃
〃Did you enjoy the porpoise show？〃 Bernal asked。
Renee nodded apprehensively。 〃Yes； very much。 And the trained whale。〃
〃Shamu；〃 Bernal said。 〃That's the whale's name。〃
This guy was sickening； Wilson thought。 He might even be worth killing someday。
〃Did you ride the monorail？〃 Bernal went on mockingly。 He wore a mean smile。
〃No； David wanted to see the shark moat instead。〃
Now we're getting somewhere； Wilson muttered。 〃David who？〃
〃I won't tell you！〃
Wilson slipped one hand around Renee's freckled neck。 It felt soft and cool。 He gave a sharp； tennis…ball squeeze； that was plenty。
〃David Richaud；〃 Renee said； starting to sob。 〃R…i…c…h…a…u…d。〃
Viceroy Wilson carefully wrote down the name。 〃And where are you staying？〃
〃At the Royal Sonesta。〃
〃Thank you； Renee； my sweet；〃 said Jesus Bernal； bobbing at the foot of the bed。
〃Shut up and type；〃 said Wilson； shoving the paper at his panion。 Bernal bounced over to the kitchen table and sat down at a portable electric typewriter。
Viceroy Wilson turned to his victim and said； 〃Do you believe that fuckhead went to Dartmouth？〃
Jesus Bernal may have e to the cause with impressive credentials； but he was not highly regarded by Viceroy Wilson。 Jesus Bernal had once held the title of defense minister for a rabid anti…Castro terrorist group called the Seventh of July Movement。 The group was named for the day in 1972 when its founders had launched a costly and ill…fated attack on a Cuban gunboat off the Isle of Pines。 In later years an acrimonious dispute had arisen over the name of the group； with some members claiming that the Isle of Pines attack had actually occurred on the sixth of July； and demanding that the group should be renamed。 A promise was reached and eventually the terrorists became known as the First Weekend in July Movement。
Throughout the late 1970s this organization took credit for a large number of bombings； shootings； and assassination attempts in Miami and New York。 According to the Indian； Bernal was named defense minister chiefly because of his Ivy League typing skills。 As Viceroy Wilson knew； one of the most vital roles in any terrorist group was the posing of letters to take credit for the violence。 The letters had to be ominous； oblique； and neatly typed。 Jesus Bernal was very good in this assignment。
He had been recruited to Las Noches de Diciembre after a bitter falling…out with his rades in the First Weekend in July Movement。 Actually Bernal had been purged from the group； but he never talked about why； and Viceroy Wilson had been warned not to ask。 He tolerated Bernal； but he had no instinctive fear whatsoever of the Cuban。 And he was getting awful damn tired of this macho switchblade bullshit。
〃We're moving out soon；〃 Wilson told Renee LeVoux。 He bailed up the towel and started to stuff it back in her mouth。
〃Wait；〃 she whispered。 〃Why did you tell me your names？〃
Wilson shrugged。
〃You're going to kill me； aren't you？〃
〃Not if you can swim；〃 Wilson said； inserting the gag。 〃And I mean fast。〃
Renee's eyes widened and she tried to scream。 The more she tried； the redder she got； and all that came out was a throaty feline noise that filled the tawdry motel room。 She tossed back and forth on the bed； fighting the ropes； trying to spit out the gag； until Viceroy Wilson finally said 〃Dammit！〃 and whacked her once in the jaw； knocking her cold。
Meanwhile； preoccupied at the Smith…Corona； the man writing for El Fuego began to type：
Dear Mssr。 Richaud：
Wele to the Revolution！
Four items of special interest to Brian Keyes appeared in the Miami Sun of December 6。
One was a lengthy front…page story about the jailhouse suicide of Ernesto Cabal； accused killer of B。 D。 〃Sparky〃 Harper。 One hour before the tragic incident； Cabal had plained of stomach pains and been transported to the infirmary； where he drank a half…pint of Pepto…Bismol and declared that he was cured。 While confined t