A Crying Shame (22 page)

Why did you call this . . .”—Mike pointed to the dead creature—
hairy bastard a Link?”

Isn't every living creature a link of some sort?” was Badon's reply.

Dr. Thurman snorted.

Mack looked at the soldier of fortune and concluded, with a professional lawman's eye, that this big dude would probably be hell on wheels in any kind of fight.

Joe Ratliff muttered, under his breath,
Devil's beasts, that's what they are.”

Sheriff Saucier looked at Badon.
I think we'd better have a chat, Badon.”

That odd smile.
I rather suspected you'd say that Sheriff.”

 

Jon Badon,' ” Mike read from the teletype just received from the FBI.
‘No middle name. Born Jeanerette, Louisiana. Age forty-three. Ran away from home at age thirteen, after parents died in automobile accident. Made his way overseas as cabin boy on a freighter. At age fifteen, enlisted in the French Foreign Legion. Assumed name; lied about age. Fought in southeast Asia as legionnaire, wounded at Dien Bien Phu in 1954. Captured. Escaped. Recaptured. Escaped. Made his way south to freedom. Completed enlistment in FFL. Fought as paid mercenary in southeast Asia, under contract to U.S. Government 1960-64. Mercenary in Africa since mid-sixties.' ” Mike lifted his eyes.
Africa, among other places, that is.”

Jon shrugged, lifting his heavy shoulders.
One must make a living where one can, Sheriff.”

Mike grunted.
‘Expert in all types of firearms, explosives, hand-to-hand combat. Should be considered extremely dangerous. No wants or warrants on record in U.S. or from Interpol. Temperament: can range from suave to violent; known to have killed on contract four times. No prosecution.' ” He looked up from the paper.
Why weren't you tried, Badon?”