Assignment Black Gold Read Free

Naturally,
it’s unfair to assume you would sacrifice yourself by going out to those
murderers.”
    “Is she drinking now?”
    Hobe said, “She drinks too much. But you have to understand
hor. This isn’t her milieu. Hardly anyone’s, for that matter. She’s been
nervous and upset lately, that’s all. She’ll get over it.”
    Durell looked levelly at the smaller, older man. “Perhaps I
should give myself up to them, rather than endanger you and your wife.
Obviously, they only want me.”
    “I don't understand it.” Hobe peered carefully out of the
window. “Maybe they‘ve given up and gone.”
    “Not likely. They’re still waiting. The question is, how do
they know about me and why do they want me? I arrived in Lubinda just this
afternoon. I went to the hotel, registered, had lunch, walked around, went to
Matty’s office, looked for Brady Cotton. Then I took a nap and you and
Betty offered to drive me out here. How do they even know my name?"
    Hobe shrugged narrow shoulders. “The Apgaks have
sympathizers in the government. Spies in your hotel, perhaps.” Tallman licked
his lips. “I don’t like this quiet. They usually come with a rush, get it over
with.”
    “I thought Lubinda was happy with independence.”
    “We think the Apgaks are financed by Maoist Chinese.
Like the guerrillas in Angola. Russia probably tries to buy dissent here, too.
They don‘t want to see the new government work out as a liberal democracy.
There was a short and vicious civil war when independence was declared. A lot
of good people were killed. It stopped our drilling, of course, only a week
after we’d spudded in and proved the DHC—the downhole comparability. The home office back in Houston is raising hell. But
there’s nothing I can do, for the moment.”
    Hobe paused suddenly, raised his rifle as if he saw
movement out beyond the window, then lowered it with a shake of his round head.
His voice was suddenly blunt.
    “Just who are you really, Mr. Durell?”
    “I’m a man looking for a friend.”
    “You mean Brady Cotton? They tell me you’re his lawyer as
well as his friend. Everybody says Brady has come into a lot of money.”
    Durell nodded, watching the window. “His aunt died in New
Orleans.” There was still no sound from outside. The fire-gutted Mercedes
was just a shell. It would be a long walk back to Lubinda. He said, “Your bush
telegraph is pretty good, Hobe."
    Hobe shrugged. “There’s nothing to do here except gossip.
News travels fast. I was surprised when you asked to see me this afternoon.”
    “They tell me you and Brady play chess together.”
    “Sometimes.”
    “Any idea where he is?”
    “Oh, he‘ll hear the good news and come running. He’s
probably out in the bush toward Namibia, trying to scrape up artifacts and
native sculpture for his export shop.”
    “What about Brady’s wife?”
    Hobe’s face changed slightly. “She’s probably with him.
    Katherine is quite a gal.”
    “Katherine? Kitty?”
    “Right.”
    There was a sudden scream from Betty, guarding the windows
and veranda of the living room.
     
    Durell had been with those besieged before. People reacted
oddly to the knowledge of entrapment, that they were cut off by others
determined to kill them. Hobe Tallman seemed to be all right. But his young,
voluptuous wife was something else.
    Glass crashed as a flaming bottle was hurled into the
house. It landed at the girl’s feet, the wick sputtering. Betty Tallman stood
frozen, her rifle lowered. Durell dived for the bottle, snatched it up,
threw it outside through the broken window, all in one swift gesture. The
bottle burst among the flower beds fronting the veranda. There was a yell
of rage from the dark bush. The lurid flames leaped high for a moment as
the gasoline exploded.
    “Get down!” Durell yelled.
    The woman did not move, staring aghast at the red darkness
outside. Durell caught her arm, felt her softness, breasts yielding against
him. He threw her to the