Delta Factor, The Read Free Page A

incessant handling of the papers and looked directly at me. “We need two things,” he said. “One, if he is dead, knowledge of the fact.”
    â€œAnd?” I put in.
    â€œThe second ... if he is alive, we need him . And that, Mr. Morgan, is where your potential comes in.”
    I knew what he was going to say. I could almost smell it.
    â€œThis is the proposition ... that you go into that country, commit a crime of our specifications that will get you sentenced to that prison, then effect an escape with either the information of his death or the person himself. For this action the government will take into consideration our recommendation of a reduced sentence for your prior, ah, activities and it will be acted upon.”
    â€œAll this in writing, I suppose,” I grinned.
    â€œNothing in writing.” He didn’t grin at all.
    â€œCome on, buddy. I made deals like that during the war. Give me a witness that will stay alive, at least.”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œBalls,” I said. “You’re like the insurance companies these days. You get paid for taking chances, but you sure don’t want to take any.” I leaned back in my chair. “Little man, I’d sooner take my chances on getting out of your damn pen. That I can do and the odds are even better.”
    Gavin Woolart’s face flushed a deep red with controlled anger. His smile was friendly, but his lips were almost bloodless. “No other deal,” he grimaced.
    I never expected it, but it happened anyway. That deep, resonant voice of Inspector Doherty’s cut through the room like a knife through toilet paper and he said, “I witnessed it, Morgan. Do what you want.”
    Two of them came out of their chairs like they had been shot. Carter swung around, anger contorting his face. “Listen, Inspector...”
    Jack Doherty had been around just a little too long. Nobody impressed him any more. He had pounded too many beats, seen too much action, worked with too many administrations to get cut off by somebody outside his own domain. He was totally impassive, sitting there like a fight-scarred tiger, too lazy and too competent to be bothered wasting his talents on the young bucks looking for a slice of his harem when all he had to do was growl to buzz them off. He said, “I don’t give a damn for this bum one way or another. I’ve made deals with bums and politicians alike and stuck with them, but never one that was raw. This one stinks. So you’re in a bind and now it’s your turn. It’s still my territory and keep it in your heads. All you have to do is nod and he goes back in, but don’t play around with his life. He didn’t knock anybody off you know of. I’ll be a witness to this deal whether you like it or not.”
    â€œThanks, Inspector,” I told him.
    â€œDon’t thank me, Morgan. Either way, you’re still a loser in my book.”
    Carter and Woolart sat down slowly. “You haven’t heard the last of this, Doherty,” Carter told him.
    The big cop made a gesture with his shoulders. “So sue me,” he said and took a drag on his cigar.
    Woolart looked at me. “Well?”
    â€œSupposing I get to this hypothetical country and decide to cut out?”
    Bluntly, Woolart said, “An agent will accompany you. Others will be on hand. In that event you will be eliminated. This is one of the simpler phases of the operation.”
    â€œUh-huh.” I folded my hands and studied him again. “You’re appealing to something, Woolart.”
    No mister this time.
    â€œIt can’t be to my consideration of a shorter term behind bars,” I said. “Funny enough, life in any state is better than none at all. It can’t be to what you consider my sense of adventure because the reward factor is too small. So what is it?”
    â€œNeither, Morgan.” And he didn’t say mister either. “I have