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Vixen 03 (Dirk Pitt 5)

Page 40

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Daggat came straight to the point. "If I may be frank, General, the only reason you put on this dog and pony show tonight was in the hope of conning me into exerting my influence with the House Foreign Affairs Committee on behalf of the AAR. Agreed?"

Lusana could not conceal a cornered look, but he remembered to be courteous. "My apologies, Congressman. I did not mean to be so obvious. Yes, I did hope to persuade you to lend your support to our cause. But a con job? No way. I am not fool enough to attempt to stuff cotton in the ears of a man with your reputation for shrewdness."

"So much for preliminaries. What's in it for me?"

Lusana stared at Daggat with fascination. Such directness was hardly what he'd expected. His plans called for a more circuitous seduction. Now he was caught off guard. An out-and-out request for graft left him stunned. He decided to play coy in order to gain time to think.

"I miss your point, Congressman."

"No big deal, really. If you want me on your team, it's going to cost you."

"I still don't understand."

"Cut the jive, General. You and I came from the same gutter. We haven't shoved aside poverty and discrimination to get where we are without picking up any smarts along the way."

Lusana turned away and slowly, meticulously lit a cigarette. "Do you wish me to open the negotiations with an offer for your services?"

"That won't be necessary. I already have a. . . ah . . . figure in mind."

"Please name it."

A smile lifted the corners of Daggat's lips. "Ms. Collins."

Lusana looked up, puzzled. "And a very comely figure at that. But I fail to see what she-"

"You give me Felicia Collins and I'll see to it my committee votes favorably on funding an arms program for your revolution."

Felicia leaped to her feet, her mahogany eyes ablaze. "I don't believe this."

"Consider it as a small sacrifice on behalf of a noble crusade," said Daggat sarcastically.

"Hiram, for God's sake," she snapped, "tell this turkey to pack up and ship out."

Lusana did not reply immediately. He gazed down at his lap and brushed off an imaginary piece of lint from a razor-creased pant leg. Finally he spoke in a soft voice. "I'm sorry, Felicia, but I can't allow sentimental feelings to enter into this."

"What crap!" She stared at him, her expression void of belief. "You're both mad, raving mad, if you think you can pas

s me around like abowl of grits."

Lusana rose and came over and brushed his lips across her forehead. "Do not hate me." He faced Daggat. "Congressman, enjoy your spoils."

Then he walked from the room.

For a long moment Felicia stood there, her face a study in mixed hostility and confusion; then understanding came and her eyes filled with tears. She made no protest, no gesture of resistance, as Daggat gently pulled her close and kissed her.

"You bastard," she whispered. "You rotten bastard. I hope you're satisfied."

"Not quite yet."

"You've won your pound of flesh. What more do you want?"

He pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed her misting eyes.

"You forget," he said, grinning sardonically. "You still owe me a dollar."

21

Pieter De Vaal closed the report folder on the Fawkes-farm massacre. His face was drawn and tired as he looked up. "I'm still shocked by this dreadful tragedy. It was so senseless."



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