Dog Soldiers Read Free Page A

daddy was a judge in north Florida. A few years earlier she had been secretary and dear friend to a one-man ant army named Irvine Vibert, who had come crashing out of the Louisiana canebrake one morning — young, smarter than hell, and insane with greed. The newspapers described hi m as an influence peddler, some times as a “ wheeler-dealer. ” He had had many friends in government and all of his friends were nice to Charmian. They went on being nice to her after the inevitable scandal broke, and even after Vibert ’ s death in a curious flying ac cident. The farther away she kept from Washington, the nicer they were. For a while Charmian had worked for the United States Information Agency, no w she was the nom inal correspondent of an Atlanta-based broadcasting syn dicate. She liked Saigon. It was a bit like Washington. People were nice.
    Converse was suddenly aware that he had stopped sweat ing. He swallowed, mastering a small spasm of nausea.
    “ Christ, it ’ s merry little shit. ”
    “ Tho says it ’ s fantastic. ”
    “ How the hell would he know? ”
    Charmian retaped the bags and wrapped them up. Struggling a bit, she lifted the package and handed it over to Converse. He took it, supporting its weight with his forearms. It felt absurdly heavy. Three kilos.
    “ You ’ re gonna have to balance your weight right when you walk with that in the bag. Otherwise you ’ re gonna look comical. ”
    Converse put the package in the briefcase and zipped it up.
    “ You weigh it? ” She went into the kitchen and took a bottle of purified water out of the refrigerator.
    “ ‘ Course I weighed it. Anyway, you don ’ t get burned with scag by getting short weight. You get it cut on you. ”
    “ And this isn ’ t? ”
    “ Uh-uh. No way. Like I know a lot more about scag than Tho does and he ’ d be scared to burn me first time out. I own a hydrometer. ” Converse eased back on the cushion and rested his elbows on the tile floor, facing the whitewashed ceiling.
    “ Jesus, ” he said.
    “ That ’ ll learn you, messing with the pure. Don ’ t get sick on my cushion. ”
    Converse sat up.
    “ Your friends can pick up from my wife on the twentieth in Berkeley. She ’ ll be home all day. If she ’ s not there, have them call the theater where she works. It ’ s called the Odeon — in the city off Mission. She ’ ll have a message for them. ”
    “ She better be around. ”
    “ We already talked about that. ”
    “ Maybe there ’ s a side to her character you don ’ t know about. ”
    “ In all modesty, ” Converse said, “ there isn ’ t. ”
    “ She must be a pretty good kid. You ought to spend more time with her. ” Charmian sat down beside him on the cushion and rubbed at a mosquito bite over her Achilles ’ tendon.
    “ Maybe she ’ s keeping bad company in your absence. Maybe she ’ s hanging around with some far-out hippies or something who might encourage her to weirdness. ”
    “ If you don ’ t trust us, ” Converse said, “ pay me off and move it through somebody else. ”
    She closed her eyes.
    “ I ’ m sorry, John. I can ’ t stop doin ’ it. ”
    “ I understand. I think it ’ s very professional of you. But stop anyway. ”
    “ Damn, ” she said, “ I ’ d hate to make my living this way. ” Charmian poured them out two glasses of the cold bot tled water. “ How much do you think your friends in the States will make? ” Converse asked her.
    “ Depends on how much they cut it. It ’ s so good they can cut it down to ten percent. They could make a couple of hundred thou. ”
    “ Who are they? I mean what sort of people are they? ”
    “ Not the sort you might think. ”
    She stood up and shook the hood of her robe to free her hair. “ What they make is no concern of mine. I don ’ t want their trouble. ”
    “ No, ” Converse said. She was watching him with country caution; her eyes held a measure of contempt, a measure of suspicion.
    “ What are you gonna