Chapter Four

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Guesthouse "A" was well isolated from the other buildings. It consists of about seven rooms in a row. The rooms had high, tiny windows and low doors, which made them, look more like detention rooms than guestrooms. Well, I thought, the man had conceded that this place was anything but a home. The elderly man, whom I presumed was one of the locals engaged to do menial jobs, took charge from the uniformed young men. He ushered me into one of the rooms, Lydia the next, and the two poker faces, the third.

The room was grossly unkempt and had a smell of stale cigarette smoke. There were two makeshift beds wedged to the wall, two sad-looking upright chairs, and a side table stained with cigarette burns. There was also a wall rack at the corner of the room, with rusty iron hangers on it. Though the room wasn't much of a habitation, it was the two tiny windows that made it even more depressing and miserable. I was still taking in the details of the room when George walked in with the colonel.

"George told me you were good friends," he said unnecessarily as he extended his hand for a handshake.

"That's right," I answered tersely, wondering how much more he had told him already.

"Well, I guess the sergeant has made an elaborate introduction," he said, and the smile, revealing two silver-capped teeth, was as professional as I presumed was insincere.

"However," he went on, "you may call me Steve." I nodded and said nothing. "Okay," he continued after he had taken a while to look me over, "George and his friend, Sammy, were very good and helpful friends of ours, and I should say I'm pleased to find he is still alive; frankly, we had thought otherwise," he stated, watching me closely. "Well, I'm sorry, I have a lot of work to do now," he went on after a brief pause. "I'll see you guys soon. Meanwhile, I have instructed that you should be moved to our special guestrooms in house 'B'." He grinned as he looked around the room. "Make yourselves at home as much as you can and ask for anything you might need," he added and left after he had shook hands again and informed George how happy he was to see him once more.

House "B" was some distance behind house "A," with about five rooms in a row. Although the room was shades better than the one I was given in house "A," it was, nonetheless, as unkempt and had the same depressing effect.

"Good Lord!" I exclaimed. "What a dump. I would rather sleep back in the bush than in here."

"All right, there's no need to burst your veins. I'll go and get some help," George said, grinning to himself. He left the room at a run and in less than three minutes, he was back with two young but efficient-looking lads.

The lads were by no means less efficient as I had imagined. They worked relentlessly in the room while George and I stood out on the porch, leaning in silence against the weather-beaten balustrade. I later asked him why the leader of the bush-combers and the sergeant hadn't recognized him, and he told me that he and Sammy only dealt with Steve and some of the top-ranking officers, and that he had never been to any of their bases or stations. They usually met in discrete places to discuss their businesses. And that he had hoped that Steve wouldn't recognize him out there because of Lydia.

When we reentered the room some fifteen minutes or so later, I found that the lads had done an astonishing job. The whole room had an incredible glint, and I smiled to myself as I looked around. There was a door on the right, just by the entrance, and with a frown knitting my brow, I turned the knob and the door swung open. It led into a small but very neat bathroom.

"Good. It looks indeed special as Steve had said," I murmured, almost to myself as I shut the door.

I went over to feel the bed and was surprised that it felt better than it looked. I was glad because I badly needed a good rest after all the futile and risky roaming in the wilderness. Just then, I wondered how Lydia and the other two were putting up but instantly wiped them out of my mind. It would be quite healthy not to bother about them at the moment, I thought as I dropped heavily on the bed and gave out a strident sigh.

"Man, do I need some rest!" I exclaimed, breaking the long silence that had taken over the room since the two young cleaners left.

"You bet!" George heaved, sounding hopeless and dejected.

I turned sharply to look at him and saw that he looked truly dejected.

"What's biting you, and don't tell me you're worried about the kids again?" I asked as I saw him sit gloomily on the edge of his bed staring into space.

"It's not the kids," he returned solemnly.

"Then what the hell is it?" I asked, giving off a yawn.

"I'm a little unsure of what to make out from what Steve just told me," he answered, still staring into space.

"Oh yeah?" I said, putting on my well, what do you know? expression.

"He didn't go into details," he continued, after a brief silence, "but he said the diamonds were found on Mushini, and he has been sent to jail for a long stretch."

I stood up abruptly from the bed, and then sat down slowly again.

"For goodness' sake!" I exclaimed. "Why the hell did you have to mention the diamonds to him?" I exploded.

"Come off of it, Mike!" he retorted. "You ought to know better than that. Do you imagine I'm dumb?" he asked indignantly and went on after a brief silence. "I told him I was going to see Mushini, and he said I could save myself the trouble; that he took the rap for the murder, arson, and burglary on the island when the diamonds were found on him."

"What happens now?" I drawled after a long while and sounding more hopeless than George had sounded earlier.

"I don't really know," he answered, "but what I do know is that they need help, and badly too."

"Who doesn't?" I returned indifferently. "What kind of help does he need anyway?" I asked lamely after a brief silence.

"He didn't go into details also," he returned, "but from what he said, it seems they intend to raid the island."

"What are you talking about? What island?" I did a double take, but he explained patiently.

"The same island where we picked up the diamonds. Somehow, they had been returned."

I gaped at him and said nothing but gave him a nod to go on.

"They are not after the diamonds," he went on succinctly, with his face held rigid as if it was meant to assure me that there was no use being apprehensive. "They intend to take the damn place apart. He said there were filthy things going on there, which they wanted to put an end to, and they seem to be running out of time."

"That's what he told you?" I asked after a long silence.

"Yea."

"And you believe him?" The skepticism in my voice was unmistakable as I watched him closely.

"I don't know what to believe now," he returned after a brief hesitation as he looked up to meet my eyes, "but that was what the man said," he stated with obvious frustration.

"I don't get it!" I exclaimed after a little while with my eyes on his. "You told me the island belonged to an old white lady," I reminded him.

"Yea, but I'd been out of circulation for a long while, and a lot of things could have happened within that period," he stated.

I lay my head on the pillow and began to turn the whole thing around in my mind. No doubt, it's getting more complicated by the minute, I thought, and the progress we had made so far was like a drop in the ocean. It seemed George had said all he knew . . . or perhaps he could be holding something back. Well, I hope not, because he ought to know that if we were to outsmart them, then I should know as much as they do.

"So they want to raid the island?" I asked doggedly after another long silence.

"That's what he said," he answered promptly.

"Well, that's their business," I said and shut my eyes.

"Yes, it is, but I told him he could use our help and that you can be relied upon. He said he would be seeing you later, but he would have to talk with the colonel first."

"The colonel?" I asked sitting up.

"One of the four men he came in with. Incidentally, they also happened to be first cousins, and they both run this outfit."

"How convenient!" I exclaimed, with a distinct edge to my voice. "He didn't give you any clue as to what the excitement was all about?" I asked thoughtfully, after a little while, with my eyes locked on his face.

"Not very clearly," he answered briefly, "though, he mentioned something like drugs, kidnapping, murder, and minting of fake dollar bills. He said some of their best men have been sent there, but they never came back. The only two that managed to leave the island alive didn't live long enough to narrate all they saw or what had happened to them and—"

"And you had to tell him, he could use our help? Are you out of your mind?" I scolded, interrupting him.

"Well, since he said the diamonds had been returned there, I thought it would be an opportunity to get on the island and perhaps get hold of them," he explained calmly.

"Does he know we're after the diamonds?" I asked after a brief silence that followed his explanation.

"If he does, he didn't say, but I reckon he would probably guess so before long."

"Why?"

"Well, if he found out that my kids are in Legion's hand, it won't take him too long to put two and two together, and I'm certain he won't make it add up to six," he replied, making a joke out of it.

"And he could easily tell us the diamonds are there as bait to get us to go the island," I returned sardonically.

"I don't think he has any reason to do that; he doesn't know you anyway, and even though I have once been to the island, he could see I'm in a bad shape right now," he returned defensively.

"When does he want to talk?" I asked after a while, having given his last response a little thought and decided he could be right.

"I can't say for certain," he replied. "Maybe tonight or tomorrow, but I had to warn him about Lydia."

"You needn't have done that; she's behaved well so far," I put in firmly.

"I just told him she had a nasty temper and should be left alone," he returned. "Will you help, Mike?" he asked solemnly after a long silence, and I could see doubt and frustration written all over him.

"I will if I can. I guess I should have thought more about your kids; I'm sorry," I apologized.

"I'm sorry too; I certainly have no right bringing you into all this trouble, but thanks," he returned and stretched himself out on his bed again.

"Well, it's all right," I replied. "It's just that everything looks so confusing as it is and it's getting more complicated by the minute," I stated. He turned to look at me but said nothing.

I lay my head on the pillow again and shut my eyes, hoping that I could stick the pieces together with the additional information George had provided, when a gentle knock on the door stopped me short. I stirred to look at George, who was already up and on his way to see who it was. A lad poked his head around as the door swung open and announced that lunch will be ready in twenty-five minutes. Just then, I remembered we haven't had anything all morning, and it was already past one in the afternoon. George left a few minutes later to see how Lydia and the other two were faring, or rather, to be sure they weren't getting into any trouble, and by the time he was back, I was already sitting up waiting for him.

It was exactly twenty-five minutes past five o'clock in the afternoon when we returned to the room. I instantly went into the bathroom to take a shower, while George sat on his bed with a sudden heave and immediately stretched out again. He and I had been a few minutes late for lunch, and by the time we got there, Steve and Lydia were already at the table waiting. George told me on the way to the officer's mess that the other two would have their meals at the cafeteria. We apologized for coming late, and Steve had said it was nothing. However, he informed us that the colonel sends his apology, that he would be too busy to join us.

The food was surprisingly good. We ate almost in complete silence, except occasional comments from George and Steve, and the conversation was mainly about the food and the harsh weather. However, I noticed that Steve regularly threw Lydia anxious glances across the table, but I didn't let that bother me since George had warned him to let her alone, and moreover, I was sure that the deep furrows on his brow were a certain indication that he had other pressing issues on his mind.

Shortly after the meal, Steve obliged our request to take a look around the area as there was still some time before dusk. However, he declined going, but assigned two young officers to take us in one of their Jeeps. I told the young man to drive straight to any nearby market as soon as he edged the vehicle out into the narrow, dusty, bumpy road, and it took us over forty dreadful minutes to get there.

I grimaced and hissed repeatedly as the vehicle hit the bumps, but the driver had kept a long face for all the impression my discomfort made on him. He seemed rather in a hurry to be rid of us; perhaps he had other plans for the day, which our sudden request might have threatened to nip in the bud. However, the lad on his side had been more concerned and kept apologizing as he wittily remarked that the trip would have been more comfortable and less than fifteen minutes, if the roads hadn't been so bad.

The market wasn't much, but the local folks were delighted and excited to have us around. I was able to pick up a pair of dark blue chino pants, a green cotton shirt, a small towel, and some toiletries for myself and a fine floral pleated short skirt, a pink turtle neck shirt, and a pair of espadrille made of denim, which I felt would fit Lydia well, but wondered if she would accept them.

George had stared at me furtively as I paid for them, while he also picked up a pair of pants, a shirt, and a towel for himself. I also wondered what Lydia would do when she found out that we were not in the station, as I took another look at the espadrille. She had instantly excused herself even before the lunch was over. George had suggested we tell her we were going out, but I had vehemently objected. I was fed up with having her breathing down my neck each time I made a move.

Several minutes later, I was back in the room and George was still stretched out on his bed. The shower had been quite refreshing after the dreadful ride to the market in the hot afternoon sun. I lit a cigarette and offered one to George, but he declined. I brought out a bottle of vodka and two plastic cups, we also picked up in the market. I opened the bottle and filled up the cups.

"Did you see his face when he said the colonel was busy?" I asked abruptly as I handed one of the cups to him.

"Yes, I did, but perhaps the man was truly busy," he replied.

"Busy my ass," I returned tersely as I sat on my bed. "Well, it was just as good that he wasn't there. I wouldn't fancy anyone probing while I was having my lunch, be it a colonel or a general," I remarked as I took a sip from my cup while George grinned and said nothing.

"Good heavens!" I exclaimed. "What the hell is this?"

"Vodka, of course," he replied, still grinning. "They make it a little stronger over here so you won't feel your feet in your shoes, but it's good just the same." He added, "Just go slow on it and you'll like it."

"Go slow, you said?" I returned. "I've barely tasted it and it's nearly blowing off the top of my head."

"Trust me, you'll like it," he repeated as he broke into a laugh. He insisted it was good, but only when it got down into your system did you realize the kick it had, and the kick I got out of it as I nearly emptied my cup would have brought a buffalo to its knees.

"Tell me, Mike, what have you been doing with yourself all these years?" he asked suddenly, breaking the long silence that ensued after his last remark.

"A lot some time ago but not much presently, and I'd made up my mind to remain in the slow lane until you brought me in on this," I told him, but had quickly added that I was glad to be of help anyway when I saw him looking crestfallen—though I had to let him know that I had outgrown the hide-and-seek game long ago, and the diamond chase thing was getting so dreary, that no one could imagine how it was going to end. However, I also pointed out to him, that at least it had offered me an opportunity, many years after the war, to take on an unprecedented adventure. He brightened up again and insisted on knowing how I had fared.

"Well," I began after a brief silence as he refilled my cup and his, with a broad grin on his face for encouragement. "We both knew how things got out of hand in West Africa, and we all had to get the hell out in a hurry, so I'll save you the details on that," I said and went on. "I spent three dreadful weeks in Gabon, and I was nearly out of my mind moving from one place to another while waiting for you. They told me you were coming, but when you didn't show up as they promised, I became apprehensive and worried, until that French feller turned up and said you were seriously wounded and would definitely not make it. I guess that put an end to my hope of seeing you, so I packed up my ass and went home.

"When I got back to the States," I went on after a brief pause, "I decided to give Colonel Meadows and his murderous squad a wide berth. And really, I had intended to do something much more fulfilling with the rest of my life. I even decided to go to college and pursue a degree in psychology."

"Psychology!" George exclaimed incredulously.

"You had better keep your trap shut if you want to hear the rest of the story," I retorted.

"All right, I'm listening," he returned, barely concealing his jeering grin.

"Not long afterward," I continued, ignoring him, "I joined an agency as a private eye, with the hope that it would be a good start, and I was doing very well until Meadows came calling again. He just won't give up on me. He felt it was a slight on his stupid reputation to have left the way I did. He sent his press gangs after me a couple of times, but I was too smart for them on each occasion. Anyway, I soon lost the job and barely escaped being prosecuted by the skin of my teeth," I said bitterly and went on to explain, after a brief pause as George sat up staring at me with mouth agape.

"I was into this wife-watching stint, and God knows how I hated wife-watching. You know women and their usual routine; you could sit your ass in a car for hours while she moved along the pavement on the street, window-shopping, and when she was done with that, she walked into a lousy salon with some loudmouthed women and just blabbed the afternoon away. The instructions were strict and clear. She was never to find out or suspect she was being watched, on no account should she be approached, and the report was to be delivered directly to the boss, a retired police chief who owned the agency." I paused to look at George, and he gave me his go-on expression.

"She was young, intelligent, and beautiful," I went on, "but she was not behaving well, and I can't say I blamed her much. If you were young and beautiful, and married to an old, rich, creepy recluse with a neck an ostrich might envy, I could bet my last dime that you would certainly have done worse than she did. Nevertheless, I had to do my job and sent in the report as instructed. However, I didn't know Meadows's men were watching too. I thought they had left me alone for good, but I was wrong. One of them cornered her, gave my name as his and that of the agency to her, and offered to sell all that was on my report to her at a price," I stated, as George sat listening quietly.

"Well, to cut the rap short," I continued after a brief pause to take a sip of my vodka, "the boss summoned me and gave me the boot."

"Just like that?" he asked sharply.

"Yes. Just like that," I returned. "It was a cock-eyed business; I had barely settled down at my desk that morning when the janitor walked in, while on his way out, and said the boss wanted to see me immediately. That was unusual, so I knew something had gone wrong, and by the time I got to his office, he had already flipped his lid, and there was this murderous light in his beady eyes. But since I was yet to know what it was all about, I decided to keep my face deadpan for all the impression his fury made. However, I was dumbfounded when he showed me a copy of the same report I had given to him two days before with a note attached to it, suggesting that I had a copy somewhere the police could reach if anything happened to me."

"They set you up for blackmail?" he asked with his mouth still agape.

"That's right," I returned. "Her husband brought in the report with the note, and the boss had instantly cancelled my license and told me he was just letting me go free because he didn't want any scandal on his hands."

"But he ought to know that no blackmailer in his right mind would give himself away that easy," George remarked.

"You're damn right, but I wish you could have seen his snooty, bony head's face when he said those words; he looked as if he could do anything with anyone," I stated bitterly. "Well," I continued, "as far as they were concerned, all that was beside the point. The issue was that if I wasn't the one, then I had slipped and carelessly led whoever it was to her and had inadvertently exposed her to some sort of danger."

"But how did Meadows's men got hold of your report?"

"That was what I've never been able to figure out," I returned, "but I suspect they either had an accomplice in the agency or perhaps they had broken into the chief's office, but none of those crone heads were thinking about that at the time." I paused to take a sip and checked my watch as dusk was fast approaching. "I was out of a job for several months," I went on, "until I met a lady friend I had done a little favor for while I was working with the agency. She was into this cruising business with her boyfriend, and they had a wonderful, luxurious houseboat that could cater to about twenty-five clients. When I ran into her, they had several clients going to the Bahamas, and she had asked me to come along. I hesitated for a while because I didn't want her to think I was desperate; however, I was covertly overwhelmed with joy. She told her man that I was an old friend. He was suspicious and reluctant at first, and I'd been afraid they would not take me after all, but it seemed she had a way with him, and he gave in at last. We got along quite well, and it was a remarkable experience with lots of fun."

George smiled and gave me his well, what was it? expression.

"Well," I said after a brief hesitation, "just some silly escapade with three insatiable young floozies, including one whose old sod of a husband practically didn't give a damn what did with herself," I stated with a rueful grin while George smiled, winked, and nodded for me to go on.

"After six weeks, I got fed up with the sea, the sun, and the creeps that made up their clientele. They paid me what they could, and I took the next flight home. Things happened so fast . . ." I continued after a pause to take another sip. "As soon as I got back home, I was arrested, but after eight days, they let me alone."

"Arrested! Why?"

"It was Colonel Meadows again. He was connected with international terrorism, and I was also charged with treasonable offences. The FBI found our files at the 'Algon Bay.' You and several others were believed dead. I told them all I knew. They couldn't find enough evidence to prosecute me and the trip to Bahamas had been a watertight alibi. Meadows and the fools still working with him, I heard, were in for a long stretch, if not for life." I paused to pour some more vodka into my cup. George extended his cup too, and I walked across the floor and filled it. He was right, I thought, the damn thing was good after all.

"I got another job a few weeks later, and shortly afterward, I got married to—"

"You're married?" George interrupted.

"Well, not anymore."

"What happened?" he queried, genuinely concerned.

"It's a long and bitter story," I returned and went on after a brief pause, "not that I care anymore though. I just missed my daughter so much."

"You have a daughter?"

"Yes, but right now, she has full custody and won't even let me have any access to her."

"Why, and where is she?"

"I don't know for sure; France perhaps," I replied. "I was dumb enough to have married her. She handled a case for a recluse but harmless old nut I worked for as a bodyguard cum personal assistant; so we unavoidably had to work together sometimes, and before long, we became very intimate, but that was after she had extracted a promise from me to marry her."

"You worked as bodyguard?" George asked incredulously, sitting up again.

"Will you shut up for a while and just listen," I scowled at him. "I told you I had my license cancelled, and after the uproar caused by Meadows and his gang, no one wanted anything to do with me. And it was difficult to lay my hands on anything else that was good enough. Uncle Jake wanted me to join him on his farm in Texas, even though he was still mad at me for deserting the military. He said farming was right up my alley, but you and I both know that I wasn't cut out at that time for a dowdy damned thing like farming. So the job couldn't have come at a better time," I stated and went on after a brief pause to take a sip at my vodka. "Really, the job was an easy load, and the pay was something else. I didn't have to do much; only had to look busy whenever he was not under sedation. Though his queer demands at times would nearly drive me out of my mind, but more often than not, he was kept under sedation."

"Why did you have to do that?" George asked with a frown knitting his brow.

"I wasn't the one sedating him," I answered promptly. "His servant was," I continued, "and I reckoned he did it so that everyone, including the man himself, would have some peace. I told you he was a nutcase; he had this illusion that someone was after his life and refused to mention who his enemies were. Not even the security on the estate, which was second to none in the district, was enough to avert his illusory behavior, and the chief of police had promptly declared him a harmless nut case."

I began to relax as I told my story, treasuring the feeling of how much I needed to confide in someone and have some of the painful past lifted off my chest.

"I didn't know at the time that she was the only daughter of an oil magnate." I went on after a long pause. "He was a billionaire and a ruthless one too. He was away somewhere in Europe and the marriage had been hurriedly arranged because Cynthia was already pregnant. Though I was pleased with the whole thing then, I never seemed to figure out why she had married me. However, I knew why I did; she was a smart and successful lawyer, and I figured that the setup would relieve me of the dreary jobs I had to do for the old nuts.

"She was head over heels in love with me, or perhaps I had imagined she was, but she didn't seem to bother about what I did." I continued after another moment's pause to take a pull of my vodka. "Her mother didn't care who she married either, and she seldom said anything about her old man. In fact, she insisted we don't talk about him at all. Well, I took it at that, and she only asked just once about my relations. I told her about the accident and that I only have Uncle Jake who washed his hands of me when I left the army. She wanted to know why he did that, and I told her it was because he had high hopes and so many expectations that I would make a wonderful career out of the military, but my decision to quit had dashed his hopes, and to worsen the already-strained relationship, I refused to join him on his farm."

"That desert shit sure stinks on if you don't have your family on your side, doesn't it?" George put in with a grimace.

"I guess it does," I answered indifferently and continued. "She had a baby girl, and she was a wonderful, sweet little thing. I was so proud to be a father, and the joy she gave me knew no bounds. We were all happy together, and it was like a different world—until her old man came back, and the whole fantasy got too cold and soured," I said bitterly, with great effort to hold in the emotions that surged through me. "The old fool said he wouldn't have his daughter married to a 'nobody,' as he put it. But she wouldn't listen to him. So he asked me to leave her alone, and I told him to go to hell. He sent his thugs after me, but I was too smart for them."

I chuckled to myself as I vividly recollected what I did to the three idiots in an underground parking lot.

"Well," I continued, "he finally decided to do a deal but not before he had had me setup and the whole scam was too good that it would have made a jury dump me behind bars for a long stretch without bothering to look closely at the facts. However, he was also wise to let me have the pay he had promised on the deal and—"

"How much was it?" George suddenly interrupted. I was surprised at his outburst as he rose from the bed with his eyes popping. I couldn't have imagined that the mention of money would strike such an impression on him, and I couldn't help wondering if the years he had spent working with Sammy hadn't given him the mind of a despicable rogue.

"I haven't heard you said much. I thought you were half-asleep," I teased, chuckling.

"No, I wasn't," he returned. "You said I should listen and that was what I've been doing. So how much?" he repeated.

"Two hundred and fifty grand," I answered casually and grimaced as I lay back on the bed.

"Jesus Christ!" George screamed.

"Well, I had asked for twice as much, but that was what he paid," I put in quickly.

"I bet Judas would have hanged himself twelve times over if he had heard you," he said solemnly, ignoring my last comment.

"Why should he?" I asked incredulously, sitting up again.

"Can't you see, he betrayed the holy one for just a meager thirty shekels of silver, didn't he?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Well, you never can tell. That might be worth more than what I got," I said, amazed by his seriousness.

"Come on, Mike, you read the story, didn't you?" he asked, still serious. "Maybe I should remind you that the book said the money was just enough to pay for his grave, and it wasn't even a decent one, for that matter. But a quarter of a million dollars would certainly buy a nice estate."

"All that was what the book said; perhaps he might have had nothing to do with it," I put in casually, enjoying his analogy.

"For God's sake, it doesn't matter who did it, but that was what they had to pay for the job," he stated emphatically.

"Man!" he exclaimed after a long while. "That was some loot, you know, and maybe I'm working in a wrong racket. Two hundred and fifty grand, you said, or were my ears kidding me?" he rapped, almost to himself with disbelief in his eyes as he sat down as abruptly as he had stood up.

"I've been in this damn hole for almost seventeen years," he said dejectedly and almost to himself again. I shut my eyes and wished I wasn't listening, but I couldn't help hearing him as he went on. "And all I ever got was bunch of dreary jobs and trouble from these blokes. You got to rake in all that loot for doing nothing but leave a woman alone. I'd do more than just leave her alone for half of all that money, if I was given such an offer," he finished dryly.

"All right, you don't have to drone on about it," I returned woodenly after a few minutes' silence. "Remember, that was my wife we're talking about here, and it wasn't as rosy as you imagine, although I have enough money and assets that could last me some time, but all that wasn't enough to cushion the agony of having to lose my daughter. We were very close, and I loved her so much. She changed my life completely; when she came, I felt like a new being, and she meant more than all the money in the world to me, just as I imagine your kids mean more than your life to you. See all you're going through to free them from Legion's grip?" I said with an expressive wave of my hand.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I wasn't thinking straight, and I didn't know it was that bad."

"It's all right," I returned. "It's just that I feel guilty sometimes and making a joke out of it pricks my conscience even more," I stated ruefully.

"So she agreed to the deal too?" George asked with a frown after a long silence, and I decided it was best to end the story.

"Certainly not," I answered. "She wasn't supposed to know about it, and remember, I told you I was being setup too." I went on. "There was some sort of monkey business, though; I wouldn't want to go into that right now. However, they sent her snapshots of another woman and me in a hotel room. I don't know how they made that up, but they did it just the same."

"That was simple enough," George grinned sourly. "You might have been drugged even while sleeping on your own bed. Then you'd be whisked away somewhere a woman was waiting butt naked to lie on you while they took all the shots they wanted. Sometimes they would be lucky to find a woman acquaintance your wife also knew to make it more convincing. When they're done, they whisked you back home, and when you wake up in the morning, you wouldn't have even dreamed about it," he stated as I gaped at him.

"And how the hell do you know all that?" I asked, still gaping at him.

"Mike, baby, if you've been in this racket as long as I have, that would be one of the least things you would come across," he returned, still grinning and urged me to go on.

"Well, they also drew up false evidence that I had been paid to get rid of my wife because of a delicate case she was handling. They planted forged documents on me, which provided the motive, and she saw the payoff money too. She believed her father's story and wouldn't even listen to anything I had to say. We went through a bitter divorce," I continued after a brief pause. "She told the court that she wanted nothing but the full custody of our daughter. My counsel ought to have saved his breath; I was sure the jury didn't even listen closely to all he said. The judge only allowed him to go through the motions as a mere formality. They had already made up their mind, even before the court began hearing, to grant her custody. I was only permitted to communicate with her through her mother, and at her discretion too. The arrangement went on fairly well, until a few months ago when Cynthia wrote to tell me that she had remarried and settled down in Europe, and that she would no longer entertain letters or phone calls from me. All effort to make her change her mind proved abortive," I concluded.

"What about Uncle Jake? How is he?" George asked suddenly.

"The poor old devil died three years ago," I said. "And guess what?"

"What?"

"He left every damn thing in Texas in my name, and the whole lot was worth several millions of dollars."

"Good heavens!" George exclaimed. "So what happened to it, and don't tell me you sold out?"

"Absolutely not!" I returned. "I wouldn't be that dumb. It's presently on lease, which expires in a few months' time, and I have been seriously thinking about taking charge of things out there pretty soon. However, I intend to take some management courses in addition to my first degree."

"So you actually got a degree in psychology?"

"Right after the divorce, I went straight to college."

"That was good. I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks!" I said and after a long silence, I decided to pass the onus to him. I asked him about his wife and how he had pulled through all these years. He told me that his wife was a good woman, and that he met her while she was working as a relief personnel during a crisis in the district, and would be alive today had he mend his ways.

Her uncle, whom she lived with, was her only surviving relation, and had vehemently opposed their marriage, but she had gone ahead and married him because she was so much in love with him, and George felt the same way about her. The accident with Sammy ought to have been the last straw but there were already three kids. George swallowed hard as he recalled the incident.

"I was crazy to have entered the car in the first place," he said. "I warned him to cut down his speed, but I could've been talking to myself, and we almost lost our lives. It was a nightmare I wouldn't want to recount." He stated bitterly.

Several years later, the uncle finally accepted the inevitable but had requested that she and her children should stay with him because he had no family of his own. To this, George was opposed, even though it would have benefited his family as the man was substantially rich. The wife couldn't understand it; she felt George was ridiculously unreasonable and that had strained their relationship for a while but she never thought of leaving him. She hoped that with the passage of time, he would change his mind and then she should be able to persuade her uncle to set George up on something, and that she figured should keep her husband away from Sammy and his ill fates.

"Anyway," he went on after a while, anxious to bring his story to an end, "peace soon returned to my household almost immediately as the old louse suddenly had a fatal stroke and dropped dead." He said this without any hint of emotions and continued shortly after. "It was a prayer promptly answered. His death couldn't have come at a better time; after all, he was the original pain in the neck," he remarked with a sullen look on his face, as if that should justify his harsh words.

He was about to say something else but suddenly stopped as Lydia burst into the room with her eyes menacing as usual. She looked so anxious, like a hen that just lost the last of her brood to a vicious kite.

"Both of you have stayed out of sight for too long, especially you, and I don't intend to tolerate that any longer," she raved petulantly, pointing at me. Then she demanded to use the radio. I stared at her and wondered if she was in her right mind. I'd had enough in one day, and her sudden unwanted presence in the room was getting on my nerves. However, I told myself that it would be wise to take it all in my stride, so, I asked her to take the radio on the side table where the young officer who returned it had left it, but she remained by the door as if she hadn't heard me.

"If you were supposed to keep an eye on me all the time, then I guess Legion would have to be told you were doing a pretty bad job of it," I said sarcastically and grinned as I watched her flinch. "Well, then, to help you," I went on as she said nothing, "you might as well have George's bed and don't just stand morosely at the door staring at us."

"What was that?" she asked fiercely.

"Never mind!" I returned, waving George out of the room as he began to protest. He stood up reluctantly and left the room without looking back.

Lydia eventually left the doorway and walked into the room. She took the radio, contacted Legion, and briefly explained the situation to him. I was puzzled that Legion hadn't stayed long on the line or asked to speak with me. She placed the gadget back on the table and moved across the floor reluctantly with a disdainful look on her face. She sat at the edge of George's bed and began to stare at me. I turned the other way, but I didn't kid myself that sleeping would be easy with her in the room and I could almost feel her sharp eyes penetrating the back of my head.

Shortly afterward, an idea dropped into my mind as I stared at the wall. I decided to test whether her loyalty to Legion had wavered, having seen how she looked when she dropped the radio, by asking her to run with the hare and hunt with the hound.

"Lydia," I called out suddenly, "I've been thinking," I said as I turned to face her. She turned sharply too but didn't look at my face.

"I'm not interested in your thoughts," she returned woodenly.

"But you will be," I persisted, and continued as she said nothing. "Suppose we pick up the diamonds, split it three ways; for you, George, and me, and then pay Legion a surprise visit to rescue George's kids?" I left my bed and sat on hers. She stiffened, staring at me with apprehension, but remained surprisingly calm.

"Where the hell did you get such a stupid idea from?" she asked curtly, and I was tempted to slap her across the face, but I managed to keep my temper under control.

"Legion is evil," she went on coldly. "If you try a double cross, you'll be sorry you did and—"

"I've been told that before," I interrupted, grinning at her.

"And you had better keep away from me," she warned sternly.

"I've been told that too," I returned, still smiling.

"Well, now, I'm telling you again. Legion is lethal and don't you try any trick with me because—"

"If he was that evil," I interrupted again, "what's a nice-looking girl like you doing hooked up with him and that bunch?" I teased with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

"Who the hell said I was nice?" she returned tersely. "And I'm warning you to keep clear of me," she repeated, glaring at me.

"Okay, so you aren't nice," I said, ignoring her vicious look and cheap threat, "but that doesn't hide your attractiveness." I went on with the thought that it was time to get the job done if it was to be done at all.

I placed my hand on her thigh. She instantly flinched and wasn't so calm any more.

"What do you want?" she snapped moving away from me.

"You!" I returned with a smirk, my hand still on her thigh, fully alert to catch her fingers if she decided to slash them at my face.

"You had better keep your hands off me," she said curtly as she struck my hand off.

"You are a good-looking girl, and I certainly don't see any reason why we couldn't be friends," I began quietly and soothingly, barely believing my own voice. And as she said nothing, I went on softly but with an impatient note in my voice.

"You can't go on holding back on yourself just because—"

"Why should you care?" she interrupted. Although the vicious look in her eyes was no longer visible, she remained unmoved and rigid. So I decided to taunt her for whatever trouble it might bring.

"Just because you have to put up these false acts doesn't mean you don't feel like—"

"Now look, this has gone far enough," she interrupted. "Get the hell away from my side."

I suddenly reached out and caught her wrist. She tried to break free, but I was much too strong for her. I pulled her down on the bed and pinned her beside me.

"Let me go!" she said furiously. "How dare you!"

"I'm afraid you brought this on yourself," I said mildly. "If you really object, though, you can always scream. Someone's bound to hear you if you make enough noise."

"Let me go!" she cried, struggling to free herself. She tried to smack my face, but I caught her flying hand and imprisoned her two wrists in one hand.

"You're hurting me!" she stormed. "Let me go at once!"

"Well, you've been told to look after me," I said, ironically. "And that's exactly what you're going to do tonight."

"You devil!" she panted, glaring up at me. "I'll scream if you don't let me free!"

"Go ahead and scream away," I said, smiling down at her. "I don't mind at all." Still holding her wrists; I bent over and my mouth covered hers. I knew it was crazy, but the amount of vodka I had taken in one night was enough to drive anyone beyond the edges of caution.

Her lips parted against mine as I stroked her sensuously at the nape of her neck. For a moment or so, she suddenly struggled to free herself, and then I felt her relax, and I released her wrists and took her in my arms.

"Scream away," I murmured, "before it's too late."

"Oh, shut up!" she said furiously, and her arms wrapped round my neck. As I caressed her back, I automatically eased open two buttons on her shirt and went straight for her breasts, and before she knew it, my lips were already probing her nipples, stroking, and nuzzling their pointed fullness, driving her to dizzy heights of desire. And as I continued to caress her, she ferociously gripped the back of my neck and began to moan softly and sensuously into my ears.

"Be careful, you devil, you are making me terribly. . ." she whispered amidst her moaning, still holding my head as my hand slid down to the zipper of her pants.

"I will . . . I promise," I whispered back and grinned gleefully to myself. Wasn't this the unbreakable Lydia? I thought as I began to strip her.