Assignment - Cong Hai Kill by Edward S. Aarons

receiver off the pedestal. He went to it, more to get away
from the nearness of her body than anything else. There was no hum or click in
the receiver, He put it back and picked it up again. Nothing.
    “It is not working now,”
Anna-Marie said. She had drifted after him again and stood very close. “It
happened in the middle of Papa’s call from Dong Xo. That is the river town at
the plantation, near the border.
    Where Papa sends his tea
by steamer and gets his supplies.”
    “And what did your
father want?” he asked gravely, to humor her.
    “I don’t really know. He
had time to tell me several things, but then we were cut off before he
finished.”
    “And what did he tell
you?” he asked patiently.
    “There is trouble in
Dong Xo. Some Buddhist monks were killed. Terribly. Li.ke--like-”
    “Like your ‘Uncle
Chang’?”
    “Y-yes.”
    “And then?”
    “The Cong Hai have
been terrorizing the villages. Some plantations were burned, some of Papa’s old
friends, Frenchmen and their wives, were murdered. And there is fighting now in
Dong Xo.” She began to tremble.
    “Are you sure of all
this?” Durell asked.
    “It is serious. Papa
said it, and then he said that Orris did not get on the riverboat at
all. He was supposed to go aboard with Uncle Chang, to give himself up to you
here, today. But he never went. I do not know why. Papa had no chance to say.”
    “What happened?”
    “The telephone went
strange. All sorts of noises. And then I heard Major Muong‘s voice.”
    “On the phone?”
    “Yes. He told me to be
quiet and hang up.”
    “And you did?”
    “The telephone went
dead, anyway.”
    Durell stared at the
blonde girl. “Why didn’t you mention any of this to Deirdre?”
    “I wanted to tell only
you. And to ask you—” She paused. “You must tell me what you want,” she
whispered. “You must tell me your price.”
    “My price?”
    “For Orris’ life.
Not to kill him. To obey your orders and keep him safe.”
    “I won’t kill him,”
Durell said.
    “But you want to. It is
in your eyes. You are a cruel man and a dangerous man and you frighten me. But
if I can do anything to make you promise to save Orris—”
    She leaned toward him.
She was a child in a world she did not know. She put her hands on the back of
his neck and pressed herself against him in a silent offering. But he felt the
shiver that went through her body with her amateur attempt to seduce him. She
could not put it into words, but her awkward promise was plain. She would give
herself to him, if he would promise in return not to hunt down her Orris Lantern
like the dog he was.
    “Anna-Marie—”
    “Hurry. Please. It is
difficult for me.”
    “You know I love
Deirdre.”
    “Yes. But men are like
Papa—with any woman.”
    “And Orris?”
    “He is different.”
    “How well do you know
him?”
    “Well enough to love
him.”
    “How can you be so sure
of what he is?” I “I am sure. No one knows him as I know him.”
    “How much time did you
spend with him?”
    She whispered: “We met
by accident. I was riding—Papa keeps some wonderful horses—-and I went over to
the ruins of Gyur Wat, because it is peaceful there and the monks are
always pleasant. Orris was waiting there. He had been watching me for
many days, he said. He knew I would be there that day. We talked. I was afraid
of him, of course. I heard he was the leader of the Cong Hai terrorists.
A murderer, a rapist, an enemy of the peasants and the people, a tool of Hanoi
and Peiping, an American renegade.”
    “And—?” Durell asked
urgently.
    “And he was afraid,”
Anna-Marie whispered. “And tired. So tired! Dirty. He smelled of the jungle and
the swamps. He had a gun and grenades and he needed a shave and his eyes were
red from lack of sleep.”
    “What about the monks?
Did they see him?”
    “Yes. But they ignore
politics here."
    “They ignore murders and
terrorism?”
    “Gyur Wat is
remote from the world.”
    He turned