And I couldn't risk having the San Juan police called in.
And I certainly wasn't supposed to go around shooting innocent American yacht owners, for that matter.
I made my decision.
"Let's talk," I said grimly.
"Groovy, man," he said. The derringer didn't move an inch.
"I take it you're Hunter, the owner of this yacht," I said.
"That's me," he said. "Robert F. Hunter. Of Robert F. Hunter Enterprises. But my friends call me Sweets. Cause I've got a bit of a sweet tooth."
"All right, Hunter," I said slowly and deliberately. "I'm going to level with you, because we need your cooperation. My name is Nick Carter, and I work for an agency of the United States Government."
The keen eyes flickered slightly.
"Now, you wouldn't be putting me on, would you man?" Hunter drawled. "Because I don't think ol' Mr. Hawk would appreciate somebody going around impersonating his Number One man."
This time, my eyes flickered.
"Tell me about Hawk." I demanded.
"Well, you see, man, I've got a little import-export business. Along with a little real estate business, and a little advertising business, and a couple of other businesses. They don't do too bad. In fact, I guess you could say I'm kind of a millionaire, which I think is a pretty groovy kind of thing to be. But I haven't forgotten that it was the good old U.S. of A., with all its faults, that gave me the opportunity to make my bread. So when old Mr. Hawk contacted me a few years ago and asked me to use my import-export office in Ghana to do him and AXE a few favors, I didn't mind at all. I didn't even mind when Mr. Nick Carter, the agent Hawk had originally told me was going to be put on the job, was called off on an emergency somewhere in Southeast Asia, and a second-string man sent in."
I remembered the job. Ghana had been important. Southeast Asia had been more important. I'd never gotten to Ghana. MacDonald, an N5, had been sent in my place.
"All right," I said. "You know who I am. Now let me tell you what I need."
Suddenly, Michelle, who had been standing glassy-eyed and paralyzed with terror, as well as Hunter's grip, spoke.
"Please, please… the gun…"
Hunter glanced at her, and withdrew the derringer slightly from her head.
"Before you tell me what you need," he said to me, "how about letting me eyeball a little identification."
Silently, I peeled off the wet suit, and showed him the tattoo on my inner arm. He looked at it carefully. Then broke into a big grin. The derringer was tossed casually onto the bunk. Michelle sank to the floor, and I heard a deep sigh of relief.
"Killmaster," said Hunter effusively, "it's a real pleasure. Sweets Hunter and the Lady Day are at your command."
"Thanks," I said curtly. "Meet my companions, Li Chin, troubleshooter for the Chin clan, with worldwide interests, and Michelle Duroche, daughter of the French scientist Fernand Duroche."
"It's a pleasure, ladies," said Hunter, bowing to each, then digging into his pajama pocket and coming out with a small box, which he offered with a flourish. "Have a chocolate. Orange-flavored. Made to my order in Perugia, Italy."
Michelle silently shook her head. Li Chin plucked a chocolate from the box and popped it into her mouth.
"Hey," she said. "Not bad."
"Lemme offer you folks a little refreshment," said Hunter, going toward the galley. "I've got a complete soda-fountain here. How about a nice ice-cream soda, or a hot-fudge sundae?"
Michelle and I shook our heads.
"I'll have a soda," said Li Chin. "Raspberry, if you've got it, Hunter."
"Call me Sweets," he said. "One fresh raspberry soda, coming up."
Sweets busied himself at the soda-fountain. I glanced at Michelle. She looked shaken, but gradually the color was coming back into her face. Li Chin, as I had expected, hadn't turned a hair.
"Hey, man," said Sweets, "you don't have to give me any more information than you want to, but I could probably be of a little more assistance if I were a little more hip, data-wise, that is."
I had already made my decision about that. My intuition — and if an agent can't often make snap decisions based on his intuition, he's a dead agent — told me Hunter was straight.
"Consider yourself a member of the team," I said. "And since we don't have any time to waste, here's the story."
I gave it to him, leaving out the details he didn't have to know, while Li Chin sipped contentedly on her soda and Sweets himself dug into a truly horrible-looking banana split.
"So that's it," I finished. "We need your boat for a fast trip to Martinique."
"You've got it," said Sweets promptly, licking chocolate syrup off one finger. "When do we leave?"
"Now," I said. "How much of a crew does the Lady Day need?"
"Umm," said Sweets, "any of you folk ever crew before?"
"I can handle it," I said.
"I messed around a little at the Hong Kong yacht club," said Li Chin, casually, probably meaning she'd captained a regatta winner.
"I was brought up spending summers on my father's boat on Lake Lucerne," Michelle said immediately.
"Well, the Caribbean ain't exactly Lake Lucerne," said Sweets, "But I think the four of us can handle it okay."
"Charts?" asked Li Chin, finishing her soda.
"In the other cabin," said Sweets. He reached into a drawer. "After-soda mint, anybody?"
I shook my head.
"Li Chin, chart a course to the north side of the island, somewhere on the coast beyond St. Pierre," I said. Then to Sweets: "How quiet is your engine?"
He grinned and stood up.
"Cool it, man," he said. "Even the fish won't know we're coming. Well be out of this harbor before you can say boo. Now let me get you folks some threads. Those wetsuits aren't too groovy out of the water."
Less than half an hour later we were out of San Juan harbor and heading south, now under sail and with the engine off, toward Martinique.
Toward the volcano.
Ten
It's roughly 400 nautical miles from San Juan Harbor to Martinique. By morning we had put over forty of those miles behind us, sailing round the western coast of Puerto Rico out into the open Caribbean. By Li Chin's reckoning, it would take another twenty-four hours before we dropped anchor somewhere north of St. Pierre. That meant we would have only two days to prevent the OAS from destroying the Curaçao refinery. It was going to be tight. I spent most of my time going over every detail of the available information in my head, and working out a detailed plan.
The rest of my time, Michelle and I shared in the far cabin. It had two bunks but we needed only one. We put that one to good use. I have a fairly imaginative mind myself when it comes to such things, but Michelle showed what I have to admit was creative genius. By the time the first eighteen hours on board was up, I was almost as familiar with — and more admiring of — every curve of Michelle's flesh than I was with the workings of Wilhelmina. It wasn't until late afternoon that I managed to disentangle myself from her still-desirous arms, shower, and put on a pair of the dungarees Sweets had loaned us.
"Where are you going?" asked Michelle, stirring voluptuously in bed.
"On deck," I said. "I want to have a word with Sweets and Li Chin. And I want you there, too."
"Don't worry. I wouldn't think of letting you out of my sight now," said Michelle, rolling immediately out of bed and reaching for a pair of dungarees and tee-shirt which, when put on, made her look even less dressed than when she had nothing on.
I grinned in reply and started up the stairs to the deck.
"Hai!" I heard. Then thumping noises, grunting, and again, "Hai!"
Aft, under the mainsail, Li Chin and Sweets were working out, in a sort of improvised sea-going dojo. Sweets was stripped to the waist, his ebony skin gleaming with sweat in the glaring Caribbean sunlight. Li Chin was wearing a costume her master might not have approved of: a bikini so skimpy it seemed to be made of string. But what was interesting was to see Li Chin's mastery of Kung Fu pitted against what was obviously Sweets' equal mastery of karate. Karate is angular, abrupt, with a use of concentrated bursts of force. Kung Fu is linear, designed to make it impossible for an opponent to know where you're coming from. I watched admiringly as Li Chin and Sweets battled, maneuvered, and out-balanced each other to a standstill. Of the two, I gave Li Chin a slight edge. But only a slight one. Sweets Hunter, I decided, was going to be a valuable member of the team, on land as well as sea.