I fired. Claws raked my face. Fangs lunged for my throat. And then I was wet with blood as its weight bore me to the ground and the puma literally died in my arms. I pushed it off me and got to my feet. I was still shaking as I continued my journey.
Luckily there were no more incidents like that. The shape I was in, I don’t think I could have coped with any. I must have looked half-dead when I staggered into the native village two days later.
Those natives were damn nice to me. They fed me and bathed me and treated my wounds until I got my strength back. I learned that Vickie had indeed made it there. She’d showed up the day before I had, but she hadn’t stayed. She had made a deal with some of the natives to help her to get back to civilization. They had agreed to guide her to the banks of the Amazon and then to escort her down river to the Purus tributary. They would take this until they reached Manaus, the nearest spot approximating civilization in the Brazilian interior.
I made the same deal. Considering that I had nothing to offer them with me, those natives were most trusting in accepting my word that I would see that they received payment in Manaus. Some four days after I’d arrived, we started out.
I shan’t go into the details of that journey. When I was a kid there was a series of books around which described the adventures of “Bomba, the Jungle Boy” in the Brazilian jungle. Well, their melodramatics hadn’t been exaggerated. Bomba would have felt right at home on my little safari. Deadly snakes, crocodiles, shooting the rapids, an encounter with hostile Indians, even a tropical hurricane—yes, Bomba would have loved it.
I didn’t. I was damn glad when we reached Manaus. I’d had enough of the jungle to last me a lifetime. Believe me, whether you’re playing Bomba, or Thoreau, inside plumbing has it all over getting back to nature.
At Manaus I sent a telegram collect to Charles Putnam at the embassy in Tokyo. I didn’t know what else to do. But the wire that came back was from Miami. It said I should make arrangements to get there as quickly as possible. He also wired me enough money to pay off the natives—I had to convert this into goods for them since currency had no value in their village-—and to arrange for my trip.
There’s only one big hotel in Manaus and I checked into it. I had a bath and a shave and a nap and a steak. Then, feeling more human, I went to the desk and made inquiries about Vickie. I learned she had been there, but had left the city. From the local airline I found out that she had flown to Barranquilla. I made arrangements to hire a plane to take me there. From there I figured that she’d be flying on to Miami and I would do the same.
I figured right. I found out in Barranquilla that she’d joined Alan Foster and the two of them had continued on to Miami. So I caught the first commercial airliner going there.
There was no reception committee waiting for me when I alit at Miami International Airport. But I had the address on the telegram Putnam had sent me. I hailed a cab and told the driver to take me there.
During the drive I thought to myself that Miami hadn’t changed. It had the same tinsel, gaudy atmosphere about it. The beach was still blotted out by neon lights. The streets were still crawling with antlike tourists, breast-bouncing young women and belly-bobbing middle-aged men. But then why should it have changed? Maybe I felt as if I’d left it a century or two ago, but in reality I’d only been gone a little more than a month.
Now the cab pulled up in front of Putnam’s hotel and I got out. I went straight up to the suite of rooms he’d taken. I entered.
“Steve!” It was Victoria Winters. She looked like a million bucks in a tight-fitting green cocktail dress that was cut down so low her quivering breasts seemed about to jump out of it.
She came straight into my arms I kissed her and she kissed back like she really meant it. Her body was hot and eager as it pressed against mine.
“I thought you were dead,” she said when the kiss was finally over.
“I don’t feel dead.” I kissed her again.
“I’ll say you don’t,” she murmured.
“Didn’t Putnam tell you he heard from me?” I asked. “I haven’t seen Putnam. When I reached Barranquilla, there were instructions from British Intelligence to come to Miami. Alan had the same instruction from the CIA. So we came here together. But we were just sitting around waiting to be contacted until tonight. Then Alan was told to come here, and I just came along with him. He’s inside and I’m waiting for him.”
“Just sitting around with Foster and waiting, huh!” I said jealously. “I’ll bet!”
“Well, after all, Steve, I thought you were dead.”
“And now that you know I’m alive? What now? Has Foster still got the inside track? Or do you still feel the way you said you did back in the jungle?”
“I still feel the same way,” she told me softly. She lowered her eyes “I can’t wait,” she added demurely. “I can’t wait to be made love to by the man from O.R.G.Y.”
“You won’t have to,” I assured her. “Just as soon as I tie up the pieces here—”
“But Steve,” she interrupted, “you still haven’t told me how you got out alive. And what happened to Von Koerner? And the invention? What about that?”
“Whoa! Take it slow. I’ll tell you everything. Just give me a chance.”
I started telling Victoria what had happened in the neo-Nazi hideout then. I got as far as when Koemer died before she interrupted me again.
“He was telling you that he used the weapon on you!” she exclaimed. “That flashlight was the weapon! Oh, my poor darling!”
“What are you getting so upset about? Even if he did, it obviously didn’t work. I’m not hurt.”
“Oh, Steve, you don’t know!” She was really distraught, but I couldn’t for the life of me see why she should be.
Before I could find out, we were interrupted by Foster and Putnam emerging from the other room. Foster shook my hand and said something nice about being glad to see me alive. But I wasn’t so sure I believed him. Not the way he looked at Vickie, I wasn’t. He still had that same proprietary air with her. Well, buddy, I assured myself, that’s going to change. You may not know it yet, but you’ve been cut out.
Vickie gave me her hotel address and room number, and I told her I’d contact her as soon as I got through with Putnam. She and Foster left then. I followed Putnam into the other room.
He was as ugly as ever-and as impeccably dressed. He’d swapped his tails for a tropical dinner jacket, but it was still black-tie and he wouldn’t have looked out of place at a diplomatic tea held to promote the Alliance for Progress. He offered me a drink and I accepted. Then we settled back in our armchairs and he had me tell him everything that had happened in detail.
When I was finally through, his face had that undertaker look. “So Von Koerner’s invention died with him,” he mused.
“I’m afraid so. Still, at least the Reds don’t have it. Or the goose-steppers.”
“Quite so, Mr. Victor. That is some consolation. But the price has been high, and it has yet to be paid.”
“What do you mean?”
“You will find out, Mr. Victor. You will find out.” It was the first time I’d ever seen anything approximating emotion on Putnam’s face. I tried to fathom it. Yes, it looked like pity.
“Those were the same words Von Koerner used before he died,” I said. “But I don’t understand. Are you telling me that his weapon had some effect on me that I don’t know about?”
“I’m afraid so, Mr. Victor. Still, we can’t be sure. It is always best to be sure. Perhaps you were spared. We must have you examined and find out. Yes, we must do that quickly.”