Assassins Have Starry Eyes (1956) by Donald Hamilton

Author:Donald Hamilton [Hamilton, Donald]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Suspense, Intrigue, Espionage
Publisher: Gold Medal
Published: 2012-02-23T02:20:59+00:00

FOURTEEN

NORTH OF SANTA FE you hit some places with really tricky names: Tesuque and Pojoaque, for instance, and, after turning northwest of the Taos road, Abiquiu. This pointed us in the direction of Chama and Brazos. It’s rough country up there and high country; to the west is the Jicarilla Apache reservation which, like most Indian reservations, is country no white man was expected to have any use for. That, of course, was back in the days before oil and uranium, but the Jicarillas, unlike their Cherokee and Navajo brethren, are still not getting rich off the grim chunk of wilderness allotted them by a benevolent government. To the east is a solid mass of mountains sliced north and south by various rivers including the Rio Grande, but practically impenetrable in an east-westerly direction. To the north, among other interesting and elevated landmarks, is the ten-thousand-foot Cumbres Pass leading into Colorado.

It’s a great country, but it scares the hell out of me. I am, after all, only a part-time pioneer. North of Abiquiu we got rain, which also impaired my morale. Bad weather always worries me west of the Mississippi, particularly between November and May at altitudes over six thousand feet. This was only the end of March; and the gray clouds hung low over the broken landscape as far as you could see—thirty miles and more when the terrain opened up a little, as it did frequently. Ahead, the mountains ran up into the clouds and disappeared.

The road was wet and black in front of us. There were patches of old snow along the hillsides. In ten miles we passed no more than a single pickup truck carrying a load of firewood. The windshield wipers clicked and the heater whined softly and the tires hissed and the miles passed. Nina Rasmussen sat beside me in an alert and ladylike way, her legs neatly crossed and her hands neatly folded in her lap. She was wearing jeans and a black-and-red Mackinaw jacket; she also had a red knitted ski cap and mittens to match, but she had taken these off after the car had warmed up. I had changed—when we stopped to pick up my stuff at the hotel—into my hunting clothes over a firm foundation of long wool underwear. It may scratch a little, but it can save your life. In winter, I’d as soon go hunting without my gun as without the longies. Presently we met another car from the north. It had snow on the roof and windshield.

I asked, “How much farther?” My voice sounded sudden and loud after the long silence.

“It’s still quite a ways,” she said.

“Has Tony got chains on his car? It doesn’t look as if he could get very far off the pavement today without them.”

She said, “He’s got chains; I hope you have.”

“Never fear,” I said. “I’m the worrying type. Ever since I came out to this part of the country, I’ve been collecting emergency gear. I’ve got tire-chains and tow-chains, extra

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