The Retaliators

by Donald Hamilton

"Righto, old chap," I said. "I just received the orders."

  "Now you are saved the trouble. She'll call in a few minutes and let you know she is safe and her collarbone is knitting well. Next time we meet, I expect a bottle of good Scotch. Cheers."

  "Thanks," I said. "Just name your brand—"

  I heard the click as the connection was broken. Mac was waiting expectantly. I looked at him, drawing a long breath.

  I said, "Norma is at the Hotel Playa de Cortez, in Guaymas—that's in Sonora, Mexico. I gather she's in reasonable shape. So I guess you'd better figure out another job for me, sir."

  He studied me for a moment, thoughtfully. When he spoke, his tone was severe: "I am sorry to see you taking your work so casually, Mr. Helm. Do you really consider that an acceptable finish to an assignment? When I send a man to discover what has happened to a missing agent, I do not expect to be put off with hearsay evidence gathered over the telephone from unreliable sources. I suggest you either return to the ranch for a course of intensive retraining, or complete your mission in a professional manner." He paused, and continued without expression; "My impression is that Guaymas is only a day's drive from here; and that the climate is very pleasant in winter."

  It was.

  Table of Contents

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