Donald Hamilton - The Betrayers

That got to him, because of course he did think he was the greatest in the business. Well, who doesn't? Nobody'd stay in it if he didn't feel he was, in his own peculiar way, the greatest, or would be with a little more practice. We're all the greatest. The difference was that Monk could never take any kidding about it.

His eyes narrowed and he started to answer sharply, but changed his mind. Instead he just jerked his head for the two men to take me on down the path, such as it was. Jill stepped forward.

"Just a minute," she said. "I have a score to settle with this man."

Monk said irritably, "To hell with your scores, Irma. Feed your damn pride on your own damn time."

"You would not have captured him so easily without me," the girl said. "You can indulge me a little, darling. It will only take a moment." She had deliberately allowed her voice to change and become slightly foreign, and her face had changed. She was no longer the pretty, leggy, lighthearted American miss I'd been allowed to admire on the beach at Waikiki a few mornings before. She wanted me to know it. She wanted me to appreciate the skill with which she'd deceived me. Temperament we've got lots of in the trade.

She stood in front of me. "Mr. Helm."

I said, "So you're Irma, from Moscow."

She moved her shoulders briefly. "From there and elsewhere."

"I don't suppose Francis and the rest of the boys knew that."

"Those pacifist fools! They were sheep and easy to lead."

"Right into Mister Monk's slaughterhouse."

"Of course. Regularly enlisted as American agents, Mr. Helm. Don't forget that. Their records of protest will be remembered after tomorrow, as well as their official status. So will yours. You undoubtedly thought you were being clever, pretending to be of somewhat the same persuasion; you thought it might lead them to confide in you, did you not? And maybe it did, but nevertheless you played right into our hands. It is also on the record. And after you are found dead on the boat-the curiously equipped boat that will soon attract a great deal of attention-what do you think people will say about you, a man known to have been disciplined for speaking out against the war in Asia?"

I said, "So that's the gambit. Pretty tricky, Irina."

"Very tricky, Mr. Helm. Can you guess whose mad political ideas will be blamed for the horrible deaths of all those brave young American soldiers? We were going to use Naguki, of course, but then we heard that you were coming, and that you had been good enough to frame yourself much better than we could have framed Naguki. So we disposed of Naguki and concentrated on you. You thought you were being very clever, sneaking up on K by roundabout ways, but who told you about K, Mr. Helm? Who told you where to come? I did. We've been expecting you here. We've been watching your childish attempts to delude us. We've been waiting patiently for your arrival." She smiled with youthful condescension. "I'll admit that you showed admirable ruthlessness and daring in slipping away from our people on Maui last night, but the end result is the same. You are here, in our hands."

Monk said, "To hell with this, kid. If you've got something to say to him, say it."

I said to the girl, "But you're the one who tipped off Washington to the operation in the first place."

"Of course. We wanted the sheep to be rounded up, at the right time. Or found dead in the right places. We wanted a man to be sent to investigate, a man we could use. A man like Naguld, or better still, a man like you. And of course, Monk had certain private reasons for preferring you, once it was known you were coming."

Monk said, "Okay, okay, Irma. Gloating time is over."

"Just one thing more." She took a step closer to me. "Mr. Helm, do you recall a hotel room in Honolulu and a man who laughed?"

I grinned. "Sure, and you did look funny with all your clothes off, honey, asking to be laid."

She drew back her hand and slugged me hard on the side of the head with my own gun. She was a strong girl, and it was a healthy blow, almost knocking me down.

For a moment I saw nothing but flashes of light and dark. When my eyes could focus again, she was still standing there. Then she puckered up her pretty young lips and spat. Turning, she tossed the gun to Monk and marched away, her dignified exit a little spoiled-but only a little-by the mud on the seat of her jeans.

I touched the welt above my ear and felt some blood. I couldn't help wishing she'd taken it all out in spit. To the best of my knowledge, no man has been seriously damaged by saliva yet.

Monk laughed. "A woman scorned," he said.

"That's a great line," I said sourly. "I'll make a note of it, if you don't mind. You don't come across originality like that very often."

Having again made myself unpopular in that direction, too, I moved off obediently along the path the girl had taken. My head ached and I couldn't help thinking I was getting a little tired of thawing attention-sometimes misguidedly, as it turned out-away from other people at my own expense. However, I'd been afraid that if I didn't make myself so obnoxious here as to keep everybody busy hating me, they might think of sending somebody back to destroy or remove the sailboat, and perhaps even bury the body.

I wondered briefly how Isobel was making out back there, wounded and alone-if she wasn't dead-and then I dismissed her from my mind completely. While I'm not sold on extrasensory perception, I have found that if you think of something hard enough, other people often do seem to think of it, too. I didn't want anybody to think of her. Besides, I had plenty of problems of my own without worrying about hers.

I've called it a path because it was the logical route along the shore, but it wasn't the kind of manicured trail you'd find in a national park. The rough going didn't encourage conversation, but presently I asked over my shoulder, "Just what is this K bit, anyway?"

Monk had apparently decided to stop being insulted; his voice came readily enough: "Hell, you know these Hawaiian names. That's Kakananuka Bay out there. How would you like to say that twenty times a day? Besides, K sounds more mysterious and can't be located on a chart. Sweeter honey to trap the bear, Eric. And you'll have to admit you walked right into it."

"Sure." After a moment I said with careful flattery, "You must be a pretty slick diplomat, Monk. Getting Peking's Pride and the Moscow Maiden to work together must have taken some doing, considering official policies over there these days."

I heard him chuckle. "What makes you so sure they're working together, friend? Some of them may think they are, but-" He was interrupted by two sharp, echoing gunshots from the jungle ahead. I heard him swear. "Hell, that's a.38! Damn the trigger-happy young bitch! If she's… Stand right there, Eric! Put your hands behind you."

I did as I was told. Monk snapped an order at the two men accompanying us, and one of them produced a piece of cord, which Monk tested and then used to tie my wrists firmly together in back.

"These men will bring you in," he said. "Dead or alive. I'd prefer to keep you alive until tomorrow morning, but the condition of the body isn't tremendously important. It doesn't have to be absolutely fresh, if you know what I mean, Eric. If you want to die now, just make one bad move, and the men will be happy to oblige. I'll see you in camp. Whether you see me or not is up to you."

He pushed past me and disappeared into the leafy wilderness ahead at a run. After a moment, one of the men gave me a shove, and we followed more slowly. It was harder making progress with my hands tied, and I was too busy trying not to trip over things to watch my surroundings carefully. Anyway, Jill-or Irma, as I preferred to think of her now-had said K was over the next ridge. Like most of her information, it left a little to be desired, accuracy-wise.