Donald Hamilton - The Intriguers

"But," she protested, "but he's in charge! He could just – just fire you all, couldn't he? He doesn't have to shoot you!"

I grinned. "Sweetheart, you're forgetting a little thing called civil service. There's also the question of publicity; if he just up and cans us all, somebody may ask why. But you have spotted the really interesting angle: the fact that he feels he has to do it this way. I figure that means he's up to something pretty nefarious of which Mac would disapprove. He wants to make certain that, when the chips are down, Mac doesn't have the power-meaning the live, armed agents-to implement his disapproval in a practical way." I made a wry face. "Hell, the farther we go, the wilder it gets. Well, maybe Lorna has some answers we don't."

I sent the big station wagon through Tucson, easing westward cautiously, watching the mirrors. Nothing significant showed. I risked stopping at a drive-in for hamburgers, stalling, waiting for total darkness. Then I drove the rig out into the desert again, on the other side of town this time, gradually working my way on small back roads farther and farther out from civilization.

"Where are we going now?" Martha asked at last.

"To the ranch, of course," I said. "Hell, a lady's waiting for us there, isn't she?"

"But-" I said, "Don't worry. We won't try the front door this time. Did you ever hear of a hideout that didn't have a secret escape hatch somewhere?… That's our turnoff, right there, but I'd better leave the boat around the bend, up the arroyo. As I remember, it gets rough from here. Be prepared to do some digging if we bog down."

We didn't. The sand of the arroyo was nice and firm, and I got the boat backed out of sight. I got out, unfastened the hitch, the safety chains, and the electrical connection, and cranked.down the jack to take the weight of the trailer tongue. Then I gave the fiberglass flank of the boat an affectionate pat, to tell the little vessel that I wasn't deserting it in this desolate spot: I'd be back. I mean, hell, I knew it was only metal and plastic, but did it know? Some day my life might again depend on an extra, willing, loyal knot or two of speed.

We got back into the car, found the side road I'd glimpsed in the headlights, and started down a track that had seen no traffic since the last rain, whenever that night have been. Presently I switched Off the lights. It was a long, slow, rough ride in the dark, with brush squealing and scraping along the sides of the big station wagon in the tighter spots and the trailer hitch smacking bottom as we crossed the deeper gullies. I passed the right landmarks, but they seemed much farther apart than when I'd been shown this trail in daylight, years ago. At last the odometer showed the right mileage. I stopped, got the wagon turned around, and cut the engine. Getting out, I gave the oversized vehicle a reassuring slap on the hood, telling it not to get lonely.

"Come on, Borden," I whispered. "There's a flashlight in the glove compartment. Bring it along. Don't slam the door. Leave it open."

She came around the car to me. "You're weird," she whispered, as we moved off together. "You're really weird, Helm! You kill people, and then you pat a hunk of machinery on the nose as if… as if it was a horse or a dog or something. As if you really liked it!"

"Like it?" I said. "Hell, I think it's a miserable, sluggish, overstyled gas hog, but I wouldn't dream of hurting its feelings by telling it so. And I don't want it to worry while I'm gone, either. I mean, it might get mad and refuse to start when we get back." I saw her glance at me sharply in the darkness, to see if I was serious. I grinned and stopped grinning. "That's enough talking. Watch where you're putting your feet. We're getting close."

Suddenly the fence was right in front of us. It was an impressive thing, all right, even in the dark, topped with barbed wire and equipped with enough warning devices- I knew, although they weren't readily visible-to protect those inside against anything but an open tank attack or inside treachery. But in our line of business we try to think of all contingencies, and no experienced agent is going to put himself into a place, even a forty-thousand-acre place, that he can't slip out of secretly if necessary.

I took the flashlight from the girl and, after some careful consideration, aimed it at a bush that was out of range of the TV monitor I'd seen on my long-ago tour of inspection. Hoping the installation hadn't been changed in the years that had passed-I should have been told, but that didn't necessarily mean I would have been-I pressed the button for three long flashes. I paused, gave two short squirts of light, and stuck the torch, as our British friends call it, into my pocket. Then I waited. I guess I was expecting something to go wrong: alarms to ring, searchlights to glare, savage hounds to come baying along the wire. Nothing of the sort happened. There was merely a soft rustle in the brush off to the right.

A woman's voice whispered, "Give me a word, whoever you are."

"Would Ragnarok do?" I asked.

"No, but you're close. Try some other Armageddon."

"How about Gotterdдmmerung?"

A slim figure in pants stood up, brushed the dust off her clothes, and came forward. "I hope you've got some water," the low voice said. "Or ice-cold beer for a preference. God, this is a miserable dry country to hide out hi!"

There was a water jug in the car-in that part of the country, it's standard 'auto equipment, along with a shovel – but we had to wait until we got back to the boat and its built-in icebox, which I had replenished in San Carlos, before we could supply the beer. While the fugitive was quenching the remainder of her thirst with Carta Blanca, I hitched up the rig. Then I came forward once more, reached behind the front seat of the wagon, and produced a paper bag which I handed him.

"There's a hamburger," I said. "Cold, but better than nothing. I figured you might be hungry. But you'd better eat while we drive; I'd like to get as far from here as possible as fast as possible."

"Yes, of course. You didn't think to bring me any clothes?"

I'd thought it pretty damn considerate of me to buy an extra hamburger.

I said, "We've been a little too busy to go shopping, lady. We practically had to fight our way in here tooth and nail. Two men died that you might live. I considered it a pretty good trade at the time, but I could change my mind."

The woman laughed softly in the darkness. "I'm very sorry; I apologize. It was sweet of you to think of the hamburger. I'll take the back seat; I'm too dirty to associate with civilized people. Before we start, is there any more of that wonderful Mexican beer?" As I was getting the station wagon rolling, starting up very cautiously so the rear wheels wouldn't dig down into the sand of the arroyo, her voice came from behind me: "Oh, I almost forgot. I know we should get out of here, but there's something… What are our chances of sneaking up to the front gate; and have you got any night glasses?"

"I've got a pretty good pair of seven-by-fifties," I said. "But as for the front gate, if the guards are doing any kind of a job, we haven't got a chance in the world of getting through-"

"I didn't say through, I said to. Just close enough for you to get a good look with your binoculars. There's been a sort of conference at the ranch. It should be breaking up about now, judging by what I overheard, and I think you might be interested in identifying one or two of the participants as they drive out."

I glanced at her over my shoulder. Even in the gloom of the car, she didn't look much like the well-groomed lady agent with whom I'd expected to make contact. She looked more like a great white huntress after a tough safari; the general impression was one of soiled khakis, sunburned skin, and stringy hair.