The Death Dealers (4 page)

“You’re looking for it, kid.”

“They said you were no good.”

“And they were right. Let’s keep it all business. We’re on the same team for now, assigned to the same project. There’s trouble and it has to be stopped. Maybe you don’t like Marty Grady’s organization or its method of operation, but your orders are to play along and bring home the bacon. Okay, I’m feeding it to you. I’m his chief operative and a prime target for the Soviets. What hits us hits your bunch and someplace somebody dies, either singularly or en masse. If it has to happen, let’s hope it happens singularly. There are too many people who can go up in a big mushroom cloud otherwise. You chose your profession the same way I did mine. We don’t like the war makers and we hate the ambitious slobs who don’t mind walking over corpses just to be the last man in the world. That’s a hell of a way to be a dictator. So consider the odds, honey, and level; otherwise we don’t lose singularly, but plurally. It’s better than en masse but not as good as not at all singularly. Catch?”

“I ... think I understand. How can I be sure?”

“You read the files, girl.”

“Then what should I say?”

“Where does Interpol fit in?”

We sat there for a full thirty seconds while she took her chances. Mentally, she was reviewing the reports, itemizing every detail she had seen on me and trying to place them in their proper niches. She knew the Martin Grady operation and wanted to see how far she could go without exposing her own operation and where it stood in relation to my own. When she decided she leaned back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

“Interpol came in as a matter of course. It was an international police setup because certain nationals had been killed and there was a complaint from their embassies. Briefly, when we followed it through, we learned of your man’s presence. Teddy Tedesco was identified, tracked, and located. One of our people knew of his association with the Grady organization and all its ramifications, so until we could positively establish the case we walked easily.

“Eventually the details of the thing came to light. They knew Tedesco and sent me in. It was he who passed your Skyline signal and had not our group known what you were doing we would have processed it in the usual manner with a direct arrest or a directive to hold him. Like you, he knew our procedure, covered himself and took the chance that it would go through. Our intentions are to hold Teddy Tedesco for the murder of several people and extradite him under international law.”

“Balls,” I said.

She lifted her head from the pillow. “Please ... ?”

“You were running scared. You knew he could throw the whole bit into a panic if he wanted to. Don’t give me that international-law crap. Law is where and how you find it. If you think we’re going to stand by Saudi Arabian law where they chop your hands off for stealing a loaf of bread you’re nuts. They try that on Teddy and some bigwig over there is going to have the supreme pleasure of seeing his genitals proffered to him to eat on the end of a stick. Who the hell do they think we are? Damn it, we got what we wanted because we took it from those who couldn’t hold it and we did it the hard way. You think gooks with blunderbusses and archaic ideas don’t know this? So now we walk the road easy because nobody in the capital wants to disturb the status quo. They’d better learn there’re still some left who can lift a head on the end of a pole as well as the poor uneducated can. Goddamn, I skinned a guy alive once and he screamed his state secrets with no trouble at all. Sure, he died, but he died like he killed other people and we got the answers. I want to see our eggheads trying that, or the Peace Corps, or the politicos.

“Girl, we’re strictly civilians working to keep this country out of the hands of the garbage heads who want to give it away to the half-asses. We’re people who object to punitive income taxes that destroy the brains of the nation and put control in the hands of those who know nothing. Let’s say we’re right wing ... like so far right we go through the wall ... but anything to knock out the destroyers of our country. Damn, but Jefferson or Adams or Teddy R. should see what goes on now. They’d flip.”

Whatever she saw in my eyes turned her face into a mask of fright. She sucked her lower lip in between her teeth and held it there, her hand slowly coming up to cover her mouth.

In a half whisper she said, “You’re not fit ... ”

“I’ve been told that before. What you don’t understand is that when you play with the death dealers you use the only weapon they understand—violence. It isn’t pretty, but it’s effective. You train yourself to lose the squeamishness and sense of fair play our society bred into us because the other side was born without it and has a head start in that direction. They can maim and kill and put the world on edge and it’s written off to their lack of understanding and culture because they’ve been held back and exploited by the supposed land-gobbling capitalist nations. Everybody seems to forget that the leaders of these countries are sharp cookies. Most have been Western-educated and with what they were taught and their own native ingenuity, they put the screws to us, their own kind, and live a life of luxury you don’t find outside of fairy tales. Right now world security can hinge on just which way one of those jerkwater kingdoms moves.”

“You don’t ... solve world problems ... with killing,” she finally said.

“Then tell them that, baby. Let Interpol find out how two of our technicians died over there. Let them check into that supposed landslide.”

It caught her off base and her eyes showed it. “How did you ... nobody was supposed to know ....”

“Martin Grady’s money can buy a lot of information.”

“Yes. I see that.” She seemed to be deciding something, then made up her mind. “The death of those men was one reason Interpol was brought in. Tedesco’s activities gave us an excuse to probe.”

“Then why use you? Interpol has some hot people on the staff.”

“Simply because I
am
a woman. The native leaders show a marked preference for Western types.”

“You know how fast a woman can disappear there?”

“I’m aware of it.”

“You know they still traffic in slaves of all types?”

“Yes.”

“Ever hear what happens to the fringe-area showgirl types who take jobs in some of the Latin American countries and get stranded there? You know this is a deliberate setup that eventually leads them right into a real swinging harem where they either go along with the game or wind up dead? I’ve seen them, kid.”

“I was willing to take my chances. Besides, Interpol was behind me.”

“Take a look at their killed-in-line-of-duty list. See how many female bodies were recovered from that area.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Play it my way until I get a line on their course of action. You have a logical and authorized reason for investigation and if we need police cooperation it can come through you.”

“Something Martin Grady’s money can’t buy?” Lily said sarcastically.

“Wrong, baby. We usually handle our own police action and are equipped for it, but there are other means and when you have them at your fingertips it can make things a little bit easier, that’s all.”

“And if I don’t agree to this?”

I looked at the bed, then down the length of her body. “Take your choice right now, Lily.”

Her hand moved toward the gun in her waistband instinctively and I grinned. “I’ll take it away again,” I said. “You’ll suffer the fate worse than death and love it.”

For a full ten seconds she glared at me, then something new came into her eyes and a smile cracked the slash of her mouth. It was full-lipped again and blossomed into a gentle laugh. “Tiger Mann,” she said, “I think you’re bluffing, but I won’t take the chance of calling it. You just might rise to the occasion and I would love it and never be able to get away from you. So on that account, I’ll agree to be your little lackey as long as I can file a report to that effect.”

“Be my guest,” I said and stood up. I turned and looked back from the door. “Later you’ll be sorry you didn’t call my hand,” I said.

Her mouth dropped open in a startled laugh of surprise. “Why, you egotistical, miserable ...”

“Bastard,” I finished for her. “I wish somebody would think of something new to call me.” I opened the door, stepped outside and pulled it shut. Lily Tornay had some assets that were going to make her a valuable addition to the project.

 

A cab let me out in front of the U.N. complex at ten-thirty. It was one of those days when there were more visitors than personnel and everyone seemed to be having a coffee break at the same time, each group like a minor caucus of some kind. Nothing big was on the agenda but you wouldn’t think so to watch the activity. Great place, this. Ever since it began with the notion it could bring peace to the world, there has been nothing but wars and hatreds building unendingly.

I had started across the lobby when a hand tapped my shoulder. Behind me Charlie Corbinet said, “Hello, Tiger,” in that unmistakable growl of his, and when I turned around he gave me that tough, iron grin and held out his hand.

Charlie had been C.O. of our operation during the war, heading up an espionage group he hand-picked for some of the most critical missions assigned. He was no desk colonel then. He made the jumps like the rest of us, fought his way through the occupied territories, and got his medals the hard way. Later they retired him a general because they thought he was too hard an apple to have in a peacetime army with ideas about the Soviet plans nobody wanted to believe. But they got wise after a while. They had to. Right now his civilian occupation as chief of a major corporation was a damn good cover for his position inside I.A.T.S., the newest and the most secret of our security agencies.

I said, “Hi, Colonel. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. I knew you’d be looking for Rondine. Or should I say Edith Caine?”

“She’ll always be Rondine to me.” I walked over with him toward the wall, both of us, out of habit, picking a spot where we could watch every face in the place. Our conversation looked no more unusual than any of the dozen others going on in various spots. “What’s the scoop?”

“Teddy Tedesco. I suppose you’ve been alerted to the details by now?”

I nodded. “He’s a good buddy, Colonel. You trained him yourself the same way you did me. He’s in a jam.”

“If he’s still alive.” He stuck a cigarette between his lips and ducked his head down into a cupped match. “In case you’re wondering where all the information came from, I’ll tell you this. I contacted Martin Grady personally and passed on the choicest morsels.” He blew out a cloud of smoke and watched my reaction. He grinned when there wasn’t any and went on. “Ted’ll need all the help he can get and if word hits the main office I’m the news source I’ll catch hell, so keep the lid on.”

“I’m not exactly the talkative type.”

“Grady said Pete Moore went in after him. Any word yet?”

“Not that I know of. He won’t be going in the usual way. Damn, I wished I were on that end of it.”

“Pete’s a good man.”

“Just the same, I’d sooner do it myself. He’s worked that area too often. Too many people know his face. Besides, since that affair in Madrid he’s gotten trigger-happy. I hope he knows enough to play it soft.”

“He knows. The same Martin Grady knows why you should be on this end.” Charlie took a deep drag on the butt and let a gray stream trickle through his nostrils. “This is big, Tiger. C.I.A. and I.A.T.S. have teams on it. They know what to expect and they’ll cut down any interference.”

“They’ve tried before.”

“Not like on this. They want the Grady operation disbanded. Certain people would give their eyeteeth just to get you.”

“Like Hal Randolph?”

“Correct. He’s top dog now. You didn’t make him look any too good the last time out. He’s getting his instructions from a congressional committee and has them to answer to.”

“Do you know the whole picture?”

“I can figure things out pretty well,” he said. “Teish El Abin is going to have a real umbrella over his head. He’s going to be guarded like the President. We can’t afford a mistake in this case.”

“You’ve heard of Malcolm Turos, haven’t you?”

Charlie looked at me quickly. “Grady has some fine sources.”

“He has to. The guy wants me. He’ll blow this deal any way he can and try for me in the meantime. If Selachin falls to the Reds, we’ve had it. Turos has the whole Soviet works behind him. He’ll be operating here under cover and we can’t afford the first move.”

“It’ll be touchy,” Charlie mused.

“How are your agencies going in?”

“Usual protection routine. Cover at all affairs, on the streets, men front and back and limited exposure for his nibs to possible situations. If possible he’ll be kept inside where nobody can get to him. All hotel rooms will be selected, bugged and guarded. It will look like the royal treatment but it’s strictly a police operation. Washington knows where they stand on this one and is playing it flat out. Now, let me ask this ... what are you planning?”

“It goes by ear. We have a man in trouble over there. I don’t give a fat damn about Teish or anybody else. He’s a punk that has a big hand of cards right now and I’m going to get a better one until we get Teddy out if he’s still alive.”

“And supposing he’s dead?”

I turned and looked at him, knowing my face wasn’t very pretty right then. “The law of Selachin isn’t a life for a life, Colonel. They put you in a public square and do things like stripping the skin from you in inch-wide strips or cutting a hole in your belly, dragging out a section of intestine and letting the dogs pull the rest out. All the while the people throw rocks at you and spit on you, laughing like hell, never realizing that they might be next in line. I think I can figure out something for old Teish. It won’t be the first time.”