Donald Hamilton - The Betrayers

I said, "And what about his political beliefs? Just why is he doing all this?"

"Isn't it obvious? To protest against the war, of course. And to keep all those troops from getting there to fight."

I said, "It doesn't sound like the Monk to me. He never impressed me as the peaceful type. Of course he may have got soft in his old age, but what about this lady from Moscow? I can see how the Peking bunch got into the act, if he needed technical assistance, although the Monk I used to know wouldn't have needed anybody's help with explosives and detonators. But what's a Russki agent doing here? You did say she was Moscow, didn't you?"

"Yes, of course, but I don't know what her function is. Does it matter? Those communists all work together, don't they?"

I laughed. "Don't bet your life on it. Well, if you don't know, you don't know." I frowned. "This changes things a bit. We've got to get word to Honolulu somehow. There's a boat hidden over there in the reeds; that's your baby. First give me directions to K. I'll do what I can there. But you take that boat and hide it somewhere close until dark, so it won't be found when Monk's men come prowling around. Then you put to sea and steer west towards Kalaupapa, the leper colony. It shouldn't be more than a two or three hours' run downwind, if the trades blow as hard as they did last night. There's a lighthouse at the end of the Kalaupapa peninsula, according to the chart. You can home in on that. Swing around it and land on the leeward side of the peninsula. That seems to be where most of the installations are. They'll have communications equipment available. Make sure the word gets to Honolulu right away. That ship mustn't sail tomorrow. Okay?"

I spoke as loudly and clearly as I could without arousing Jill's suspicion. I was careful not to look toward Isobel. There was no sign of life under my coat and shirt. I wondered if I'd misinterpreted the faint stirring I'd felt.

Well, either she was alive or she wasn't. Either she'd heard or she hadn't. Either she'd get word to Kalaupapa or she wouldn't. I couldn't do it. If I put to sea now, the lookouts would spot me from K, just down the coast, and the speedboats would run me down within a mile. If I tried to cross the mountains to the south on foot. I might take days trying to find my way through the jungles and up the spectacular precipices this volcanic geology seemed to favor. We didn't have that much time.

And if I just waited for darkness, the Monk would come after me long before I could slip away unseen. My best bet was to keep him away from this place by going to him. That gave Isobel an escape, if she was strong enough to use it; and it might put me in a position for some judicious sabotage, if I was smart enough to take advantage of it. Of course, I had to get Jill away from here, too, but I didn't think she was going to make it hard for me, and she didn't.

She said, hesitantly, "Well, all right, Matt, but-"

"But what?"

"There's lot of time before dark. At least let me guide you part way, far enough that I can point out to you.

Let me feel I haven't altogether fallen down on this job. Then I'll come back and take care of the boat."

I shrugged. "Sure. Whatever you say. Just so you've got the directions clear. Straight downwind to Kalaupapa as soon as it's dark…

There were, of course, no good-byes. I didn't even glance back; I just followed the girl away from the quiet jungle pool, out of the thick stuff, and up over the lava rocks of the promontory to the west. It was a healthy climb and the day was bright and warm; I was glad I'd started this job with a pretty good tan or I'd have been well cooked without my shirt. We were both perspiring freely by the time we got far enough around the point to see into the next bay.

It was a little larger than the one we'd left, the valley above it was wider, and the inlet looked deeper. There was no sparkling fall of water down the mountains behind it. It wasn't quite the Garden of Eden that Isobel and I had found, but then, this was no longer dawn and a lot of things had happened and Paradise was a long way off.

I could see no sign of human life ahead as I followed Jill around the point until the harsh black rocks gave way to tropical vegetation again. Here she stopped and turned to face me.

"It's just over that next ridge," she said, pointing. "You'll have to cross at the high saddle, there. A man is standing watch just below. You'll be able to make out the others, one on the next point, and one up on a kind of cliff behind the camp. If you cut well back, crossing this valley, you won't have as much trouble with the swampy stuff as I did." She grinned. "Luckily, there are no water snakes on Hawaii, or any other snakes, for that matter. You don't have to worry about that."

I regarded her for a moment. You never quite know if you're right, of course. It's always a throw of the dice, a flip of the coin. She was a very attractive young lady, even in her dirty boy's clothes. She stuck out her hand abruptly.

"I… I'd better get back and hide that boat, Matt."

"Sure." We shook hands. "Have a good sail, kid."

"I'll send some help. Right away."

I shook my head. "Better wait till you're sure the ship is safe, before you let them disturb things around here. I may be able to jimmy the works somehow, but not if they come charging up clumsily and spook him. We don't want to take any chance of both the detonator boat and the ship getting loose on the same ocean. Your job is the ship. I take the speedboat if I can. Make sure your job is done this time, before you worry about mine. Or me. Okay?"

She took this pompous lecture without resentment. "Yes, of course. I understand… Matt?"

"What is it?"

"You don't think… you don't think I've done too badly, do you?"

She was really very good, or I was very wrong. I grinned, and took her shiny face in my hands, and kissed her lightly on the forehead. I felt her arms go around me impulsively, and she turned her face up for a real kiss, and got it. Then the gun was gone from my belt, and she'd jumped back, aiming it at me.

"It's all right, Monk," she called. "I have his gun. Come and get him, darling."

I raised my hands cautiously, regarding the weapon as if I had a great deal of respect for it. Well, I'd been trying to peddle that damn castrated pistol for days. It was about time I found a taker, even though I couldn't see just how it was going to help me now.

THEY WERE HIDING in the rocks: Monk and two dark-faced men in nondescript Hawaiian-type clothes, each carrying an old M-l carbine, that bastard cross between a pistol and a rifle that I've never had any use for. However, there's no denying that under suitable conditions it will kill a man very dead.

Monk was wearing a natty khaki outfit with a short-sleeved, open-necked shirt. It looked like the latest summer uniform adopted by the armed forces, the one that makes even a four-star general look like a Boy Scout. It occurred to me that there had always been something faintly resembling an offbeat scoutmaster about the Monk. Well, the handicraft projects were different, but the burning enthusiasm was the same.

Now his blue eyes looked bright and idealistic in his sunburned, ascetic face, as he climbed down to cover me with another one of those rustless belly-guns he seemed to have got a bushel of somewhere. His helpers took my little knife and my belt, and searched me for other weapons, and found none because there were none to find.

"The same old Eric," Monk said, relaxing. "Fast with the hands, fast with the weapons, fast with the women, and very slow with the brains."

"The same old Monk," I said. "Always trying to talk people to death. If words could kill, amigo, you'd be the greatest in the business."