Микки Спиллейн - The Delta Factor

“This thing’s bugging me, feller. Mind if I go back there and clean it up?”

He had the gun pointed at my head, but one look at the raw, open wound wiped any suspicion out of his face. I was his responsibility now and he wanted me delivered whole and healthy. He started to get up to go to the lavatory with me, and Victor Sable got into the act.

He picked up the bag, held up his hand and said, “Please, I am a doctor, among other things. Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

The guy frowned, nodded and sat back, but turned in his seat to watch us all the way.

Time and distance overlapped, that of the plane coinciding with that of the boat that was a small dot on the face of the sea below. We came out of the tiny lavatory with Sable leading the way so that he blocked the view of me in the chest pack, and when the guy did finally see it Victor Sable stumbled deliberately into him, smothering his gun hand with his clumsiness as I reached for the handle on the door of the plane and forced it open.

I had a wad of loot in my pocket to do what I had to do and if the guy in the boat was able to reach me he’d know what pennies from heaven really mean.

There was a happy glow in Kim’s eyes and a laugh on her mouth and words that said, “Go, husband!” as she made a V with two fingers, crossed it with her other forefinger to make the sign of the delta factor, then pointed to herself so I’d remember that she was the only delta left for me.

I couldn’t hold back the wild laugh and it must have been just like Old Henry himself let out when he mocked the whole world.

Then I jumped.