Peter O'Donnell - Cobra Trap

"Thanks, Princess. I 'ope this isn't putting you out."

"Well, not so far. I like dealing with urgent matters before they get worse." She studied him, intrigued to see that he was nervous, as he had not been from that moment a year ago when she had given him a place in The Network. " I take it Garcia's told you you're to run in tandem with him from now on?"

"He told me this morning. I'm really grateful."

"You've more than earned it. Now what's come up to bring you here in a hurry?"

He rubbed a hand across his mouth in a troubled gesture. "It's difficult. I don't know 'ow to…" he broke off, shaking his head. "Well, I need a favour, Princess. A big one."

She felt surprise and disappointment. "Money?"

"Oh blimey, no. You pay me 'andsomely, and then there's the bonuses, and I don't spend a lot. I'm well, I need your permission for something."

She leaned back in her chair, not allowing her puzzlement to show. So it wasn't money. Good. But what then? An idea for a Network job? If so, why the obvious unease? She said, "Permission for what?"

He started to speak, stopped, looked away, then sat in troubled silence. After a while she said, "Willie?"

He sighed, and looked at her again. "It's no good, Princess. I'd better leave it." He got to his feet. "I shouldn't 'ave come. I'm sorry."

She said sharply, "Sit down, please." When he slowly obeyed she sat looking past him, her mind racing as she sought a decision. Impossible to guess what the favour he wanted might be, but of two things she was utterly certain. First, that it would not be to her personal detriment, and second, that it would not be to the detriment of The Network. After thirty seconds she came to a conclusion and said, "All right, you've got your favour. Now what is it?"

He seemed taken aback for a moment, then said quickly, "I just want to go to Lima with you to sort out this creep Bellman."

For a brief instant she was simply a very young woman suddenly startled and indignant, then Modesty Blaise of The Network was back, staring at him, tightlipped and narroweyed. "You conned me, Garvin!"

He made an apologetic gesture. "No. I would've done, but I couldn't figure a way. Honest."

"Did Garcia put you up to this?"

"He just told me the Bellman story."

"And you decided to interfere in my personal affairs?"

Willie Garvin drew in a long breath, as a man might do before throwing dice on which his life depended. He said doggedly, "I just think it's barmy for you to go after Bellman on your own, saying it's personal and not Network business. If you get signed off The Network dies. Worse than that, it turns bad because you're not there to set guidelines." His words came ever more quickly as if he feared she might stop him. "Look, it's important to a lot of people that you stay alive, and that's why I wanted a favour so I can be there with you in Lima for backup."

Modesty Blaise stood up, and he was immediately on his feet as she moved to the window and stood there with her back to him, holding her elbows, a posture he had often seen when she was thinking intensely. Watching her now, he closed his mind to the dread that she might send him away, he simply stood watching her for the pleasure of it, a pleasure that held not the slightest shadow of desire.

She wore a pale yellow blouse, a denim skirt, and sandals, her legs bare. The ravenblack hair was coiled in a chignon to reveal the splendid column of her neck, and her only jewellery was an amethyst pendant. She was not particularly tall, perhaps five feet six, but he knew the elegant proportions of her body for she wore a leotard when they met twice a week for a technical combat workout in the gym attached to The Network's small private hospital. The workout was an hour long and very businesslike affair, greatly intriguing to her frontline men such as Krolli, Nedic and Sammy Wan, who often found excuses to be in the gym at those times.

Remembering, Willie marvelled again at her speed and mastery of timing, above all at her unique combat ability while in retreat. This was a gift acquired during her childhood struggles no doubt, but one that made her as dangerous an opponent as any he had faced.

Two minutes had passed when she said, "Were you faking when you got up to go without telling me the favour you wanted?"

"No, Princess. I just realised I couldn't expect you to make a blind promise, that's all. It was genuine."

"So you were giving up?"

"Well, not exactly. I reckoned on tailing you to Lima so I'd be on hand for when you tackled Bellman. Or maybe I'd get to 'im first."

"Keeping me alive for the good of The Network?"

A pause. Then, "No. For my own sake. You're my lifeline."

There was another long silence. At last, without turning, she said, "Have you any Network business to attend to this evening? Garcia mentioned a job he wanted done."

"Oh, that was sorting out a couple of heavies working for a pimp who was trying to get Claudine on his books, but I cleared that up this afternoon."

"Young Claudine? One of our couriers?"

"Yes."

"What did you do?"

"Picked up the heavies and the pimp, then hired a plane and flew them down to Tahala. Old man Saad's got 'em, and he's leaving them to Fuad's tribe for six months. Some of those nomads 'ave unusual tastes, so they'll find out what it's like. I told Saad you weren't asking for any commission."

She turned to stare at him, and he saw amusement in her eyes. "Danny Chavasse is always telling me that you have style, not that I need much telling. But I didn't know you were licensed to fly."

"Five years ago, Princess. An American lady financed it so I could spring 'er useless son who was doing fifteen years in a slammer north of Duranzo, in Uruguay. She picked me up when-" he broke off. "No, it's a long story. Sorry. Anyway, that's 'ow I got licensed, and I've done cropdusting and a bit of gunrunning since."

She moved to the desk and said, "Do you have anything personal on this evening?"

He smiled. "Any time you want anything done I'm free, Princess."

"Well… there seems to be a lot I don't know about you, Willie Garvin, because you haven't been handing it out. Useful stuff, maybe. I'd like you to have dinner with me here this evening so we can talk. Nothing special. Just talk as it comes." For a moment he thought he saw her almost smile for the first time. "I don't get much chance for that, I'm afraid," she said, and lifted a hand as he started to speak, "but this isn't an order. I don't give orders outside Network business." A dark eyebrow lifted in query above a midnight blue eye. "Well?"

For a moment he stared in blank incomprehension, then gave a shaky laugh. "When I came 'ere just now I thought I might end up getting the elbow, and I'll never be more scared. Now this. I don't know what to say, Princess, except yes please. It'll be a privilege."

She pressed the intercom on her desk, and when Moulay answered she said, "Two for dinner, Moulay. Mr Garvin is joining me."

"Very well, Mam'selle. In half an hour?"

"That's fine."

As she released the button Willie said with a touch of anxiety, "And it's all right about me coming to Lima with you?"

There was a hint of warmth in her voice, something he had never detected before, as she said, "It's very much all right. You've put a new perspective on it, and I'll be glad of your company. Now let's walk in the garden and talk till Moulay's ready for us."

At ninethirty Modesty Blaise poured fresh coffee and passed Willie his cup. She noted with satisfaction that throughout the leisurely meal he had drunk only two glasses of wine and that his manner had been as she would have wished, increasingly at ease but with no hint of presumption. A few moments ago, when Moulay had brought in a large envelope and a pair of surgical gloves, Willie had shown a touch of surprise but asked no questions.