Delta Factor, The Read Free

his mouth. “That’s what I mean, Mr. Morgan.”
    I shook my head, not understanding.
    â€œYour potential,” he said. “You seem to have something nobody else has. A strange talent indeed. You do things of major importance, then reinforce them by another action. It’s too bad your abilities weren’t directed into normal channels.”
    â€œFor me it was normal.”
    â€œAgain, Mr. Morgan, that’s what I’m referring to.”
    I half stood up. “Damn it, get to the point. I don’t like being held like this. You know what a lawyer would do in court when I told him what you pulled?”
    â€œNothing, Mr. Morgan,” Woolart said quietly. “You have been convicted, you have escaped, and now you’re being recaptured. Legally, I think he’d advise you to shut up and listen.”
    I sat down. Like I said before, I really didn’t have anything to lose. Not one damn thing at all.
    Woolart glanced around the room, then out of habit opened an attaché case in front of him. It wasn’t necessary. He knew every word that was written there by heart, but it was a habit he couldn’t break. When he had the papers aligned to his satisfaction he said, “This offer is being made against our judgment, Mr. Morgan. It was suggested by an authority higher than ours, so we have to make it. However, we stipulated that if it is refused upon its initial presentation, then it never will be made again. Frankly, I am hoping that you will refuse it. Everything will be much simpler then and we can proceed in the matter normally. But as I said, this choice is not ours.”
    I could feel their eyes on me. They weren’t looking ... they were watching. Not one of them felt differently from Woolart and the expectation was there, clear and strong, that my answer would be negative. Anything else would be one of stupidity and they weren’t giving me credit for that.
    â€œSay it,” I told him.
    He shuffled the papers a moment, then looked up at me. “It regards the value you put on your life. Whether you prefer to spend it inside a prison until there’s nothing left of you except the remnants of a man or take a chance on losing it altogether with the possible alternative of only spending a portion of your sentence behind bars with at least a few years of active, enjoyable life left to you.” He stopped and ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. “It isn’t very much of a choice, is it?”
    â€œYou haven’t spelled it all the way out either, Mr. Woolart.”
    â€œSince you’ll never be in a position to transmit any of this information ... even if it is speculative ... to anyone else, I’ll go a little further, but let me put it in hypothetical fashion at any rate.”
    I waved my hand disgustedly. I didn’t like it at all. “Be my guest.”
    â€œThere is a certain country,” he said, “neighboring ... apparently friendly as long as they receive our largesse, but in reality, closer politically to those we consider an enemy of this country. In their prison they have a person our scientific circles need desperately in order to ... ah ... over come certain ... ah ... enemy advancements.
    â€œWe can not go in and liberate this person Again, frankly, we have tried and failed. In this age of propaganda and internal unrest, the United States cannot put itself in an unfavorable position. This one country is using this person as a pawn, ready to move in either direction, looking for favors from both sides. The unfortunate part is, that the person involved is of advanced age and not expected to live too much longer. It is imperative that we have the information he can give us before it is too late. One aspect is this: if he is already dead, this other country can conceal that fact and still extract ... well, tribute, from our government for any length of time.”
    This time Gavin Woolart stopped his