Dead and Paid For by Marc Olden

Author:Marc Olden [Olden, Marc]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781784087562
Publisher: Head of Zeus Ltd
Published: 2012-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

“Q UESTION,” I SAID. “EXACTLY where is this … this secret Viet Cong prison camp?” Cynical, unbelieving me.

“I can answer that,” snapped Donald Z. Vale. He was eager.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear Lionel Whaler’s answer.”

Vale leaned across the table, licked his lips, and looked sincere. He flashed that multi-tooth smile at the crowded room. A big and open smile like the West around us. And as genuine as anything sold to you by a guy in a pinstripe suit talking out of the corner of his mouth.

Vale’s smooth drawl oozed at the thirty men and women in the room. His eyes never left me.

“Mr. Harker, there are other men—Americans, let me say—still in that secret camp. To disclose its location for any reason is to place their lives in the gravest of danger. You don’t know this, but within Communist ranks over there, there is dissension. Let me explain. Some Viet Cong want to kill all of the prisoners, slaughter them to a man, by God. Others want to offer them up for ransom. The American dollar still commands respect, let me tell you.”

He paused and took a deep breath, giving us a few seconds of silent homage to the buck.

He pointed a finger at me. “Now, Mr. Harker, we in Trans-Atlantic Security are walkin’ a most fragile tightrope. Respect for human life dictates that we keep the location of this prison camp top secret. Let me emphasize— top secret. Secrecy is one of the conditions we agreed upon in dealin’ with the Viet Cong. Once the location sees print, American boys will die. Now, I ask you, can we in all good conscience do anything but honor that pledge and not reveal the whereabouts of this here camp? I’m willin’ to bet that the other gentlemen—ladies, too—of the press do understand.”

With that, he stopped talking and grinned at me, the gesture of a winner. Home free for D. Z. Vale Richardson.

With the rest of the room now giving me dirty looks, D. Z. had succeeded in making me the bad guy. Slick move. He wasn’t the man in the black hat anymore. I was. Me and my big mouth. Me and my unpatriotic questions. Smooth talker, Mr. D. Z. Vale. The people around Roger and me were glaring at us as though we’d just farted in church.

And at the front of the room, the three of them—Vale, Bill Blaisdel, and Lionel Whaler—sat crowded behind a small table. Lionel was in the middle, shoulder-to-shoulder with the other two. All three sat close enough to each other to be arrested for sodomy. Lionel wasn’t going anywhere unless his bookends went with him.

Vale, cheerful and relaxed, kept his hands folded piously on the white tablecloth. Blaisdel wore his cop’s scowl, eyeing Lionel as though the kid had just pissed on his leg. Lionel was nervous, staring down at the table, chewing the inside of his mouth, and giving the impression of a man under a lot of pressure.

Roger Vance whispered behind his hand, “Donald Z.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.