"This is pretty wild country. Are you qualified? How'd you kill Tavilnasty?"
He gave a short, barking laugh. "Child's play. When them two (bleepers) took me to that God (bleeped) room I come to and I said, 'This is a setup for a God (bleeped) hit.' You get me? That's what I said—'A setup for a God (bleeped) hit.' You unnerstan' me?"
I understood him. This was his threat to me.
"So, when they put me in the God (bleeped) bed, I said, 'Some God (bleeped) (bleeper) is going to be in here in a couple minutes to rub me out.' So soon as these (bleepers) left, I just balled up the blankets like it was a body and rolled under the bed. Child's play.
"Couple minutes later I'll be God (bleeped) if I wasn't right. The (bleeper) comes quiet in through the window. He walks over cat-foot to the God (bleeped) bed. He's got a God (bleeped) stiletto in his hand. He's also got this leopard in a holster inside his God (bleeped) left leg.
"He jams the stiletto into the God (bleeped) roll of blankets like he's God (bleeped) upset. So I just reached out and grabbed the God (bleeped) leopard off his God (bleeped) leg.
"Before he could bend down to see what was under the God (bleeped) bed, I blew his God (bleeped) left leg off. And then he fell down, so I blew his crotch apart.
"He wasn't so God (bleeped) interested in killing anybody then, so I got out from under the God (bleeped) bed. I seen he had a crappy .38 Saturday night special so I took it and though it was a awful God (bleeped) risk to shoot the God (bleeped) thing—they blow up—I put a bullet in the blankets and wiped the God (bleeped) gun off and put it back in his God (bleeped) hand that had stopped twitchin'.
"I frisked him for his God (bleeped) money and I found four extra loads. So I dumped the leopard and the loads for it in the God (bleeped) toilet trap.
"The God (bleeped) police come. They thought the guy had tried to use a bomb and it had gone off too God (bleeped) quick. But seein' I was American they put me in the jug.
"Like a God (bleeped) fool, I yelled for the God (bleeped) American consul and he come down the next day and demanded they give me life but they said to hell with you, go (bleep) yourself. And that's the last God (bleeped) time I ever call for an American consul. He took all my dough.
"So I went back to the hotel the next day and fished this leopard out of the toilet trap." He sat pensive for a moment. "I dimly remember in a nightmare I was calling for an American consul. I'm a dumb (bleepard). But I somehow feel I'm a lot smarter about business these days. I seem to know what to do just like that. Which brings us to you."
"Just a minute," I said. "You seem to be qualified. But this is pretty wild country. If. you're going to be a bodyguard, you'll need this."
I had left a hypnohelmet out. I picked it up. I put it on his head and turned the switch. The front light glowed brightly.
I waited.
He just sat there.
I waited for his eyes to glaze and close.
He just sat there.
Bright awake!
"Hell," he said, "I don't need no helmet." He reached up and took it off. "It don't look bulletproof anyway." He put it on his lap.
My Gods! It wasn't working! The helmet wasn't working!
I reached over and took it away. I was thinking awfully fast. I had a hypnotrained Apparatus hit man sitting right here!
"I got this strange idea," he said, "that I'm supposed to see the God (bleeped) head man in Turkey, and people tell me you are it. I got this God (bleeped) fool notion that you got something for me to do."
My pent breath wheezed out. So that was what they had told him under hypnosis after he'd been hypnotrained!
"This dame you got here—what's her name, Utanc? Funny name. Anyway, she offered me a job. But I don't think it's what I'm supposed to do and I don't think it's permanent.
"Just a few minutes ago, we started up the God (bleeped) road for town. And she told me how scared she'd been with all the non-Turks in town last couple days but she didn't want no hassle with heaters. And then she me..."
"Wait a minute," I said. "You don't talk Turkish." "Oh, I know. God (bleeped) lousy language. Her English has got a funny accent."
Oh, the darling had been studying English. Maybe to please me! I saw her with lots of textbooks being carried in. How sweet of her.
"She's God (bleeped) hard to unnerstan' sometimes. She uses too many God (bleep) big words. But anyway we're driving up the road to town just a while ago and she wants to know who I thought these birds was. She didn't call them birds. She said... oh yes. She said 'foreign intruders.' And I knew, of course, and I told her those God (bleeped) (bleepards) was the American consul from Ankara and three, four other CIA men. And bang, she turns right around—one hell of a U-turn—and she come back here. I don't think she thinks she's safe." Well, of course, she didn't. Poor little wild desert girl. "And she must have changed her mind," he continued. " 'Cause first she's talkin' about no God (bleeped) hassle and then she wants to know how much hits cost. Women!" he added disgustedly. "Always changin' their (bleeping) minds!"
Yes, women were a trial. I could agree with that. "Now," he said, "hitting the American consul from Ankara is awful God (bleeped) close to home!"
Desperation is often father to inspiration. I had to get rid of this Silva. He was not only a menace to the base, he was also a threat to my continued possession of Utanc. He might persuade her to run off with him!
What was the most dangerous thing I could ask him to do? One that would be sure to get him killed. Who was the best-protected person on the planet?
"How about hitting the president of the U.S.?" I suggested.
He shook his head. "Hell, I don't want to be no hero like Oswald."
Then I had it. This would surely get Silva killed! "How about the director of the CIA?"
He thought about it. He scratched his chin with the muzzle of the leopard. "Has its points. (Bleepards) and their American consuls. Has its points." Then he fixed me with his opaque eyes. "All right," he said. "I'll do it for a hunnert big ones." Then he added, "And expenses."
I did a rapid calculation. I was slightly hazy on whether "big one" meant one hundred or one thousand. But let's say it did mean one thousand. One hundred thousand Turkish lira was probably only about a thousand dollars U.S. And besides, he'd never make it. They'd shoot him to Swiss cheese.
"It's a deal," I said. Anything to get him away from Utanc. Even money. I reached into my pocket and got out a fistful of lira. I handed it to him. "You go get a room in town. And stay away from here so as not to compromise the plan. Sign in at the Castle Hoteclass="underline" we haven't shot the place up lately. Tomorrow you'll receive money and a ticket to the United States."
"You got some loads for this leopard?" he said. "I think the loads got wet in that God (bleeped) toilet bowl."
I had some number-twelve-shot shotgun shells that would fit his gun. A dealer had been selling them cheap because number twelve shot is so tiny a pellet it is useful for nothing, not even canaries. I told him to go out in the yard. I got to my gun racks. I found the box. I even put a piece of lead in the side of it to make sure it showed up on aircraft detectors.
I went out. I gave him the box. I shook him by the hand. "Good luck," I said fervently. But I did not say good luck to whom.
I told Karagoz to drive him to town.
Good riddance! Trying to steal Utanc!
I went into my office and wrote the order for the money and ticket to Faht Bey. I knew he'd squeal but this was an emergency. GOOD-BYE GUNSALMO SILVA!
WHY hadn't that helmet worked?
I examined it. I put the stolen meter under it. Sure enough, it was dead! The light went on but no waves went through the helmet itself.