Assignment - Mara Tirana Read Online Free Page B

could get a doctor for you. And call the police. This man, Medjan, is from the police. He wants to marry me. My job in the village of Viajec is to be district nurse for the peasants. I am twenty-four years old, and because I am not married yet, the people say I am an old maid, sour and bitter, full of crazy American ideas. Do I look like an old maid to you, Major?” 
    “No,” he grinned. “Not at all.”
    “You were crying out a woman’s name in your sleep. Someone named Deirdre. Who is she? Your wife? Your girl?” 
    “My girl,” Adam said.
    “Ah. You spoke her name many times, did you know? Gija wrote it down, before he went off to Czechoslovakia to pick up his barge, and so reach your friends. They will let her know about your safe landing. If Gija, that crazy one, reaches your friends, he will do what is necessary. But one can never foresee the future.”
    She stood looking down at him beside the bed, her hands thrust deep into the pockets of her cloth coat. Their eyes met and locked for a long, mystical moment. Then she smiled for the first time, and her voice changed, and she pulled the scarf from her head. Her rich, thick hair tumbled in the light of the lantern. She pulled a chair to the side of the bed and sat down.
    “Sleep, Major. I’m sorry I was angry. I am not really angry with you. It is life itself that has betrayed us here. We knew good things once, security and respect. It has been taken away from us, because my older brother was such a fool. Perhaps such a fault runs in the family, and we are all fools. We do what we think is right, not what we know to be safe. You can sleep easily here. I will stay with you until the fever goes down.”
    Adam sank back upon the bed. The girl touched his forehead, and he closed his eyes. Her palms felt rough, but her touch was gentle and soothing. With his eyes closed, Adam thought of Deirdre Padgett.
    He had met her through Sam Durell when they were assigned to the Mojave base training unit, and he remembered that strange, tall, stone-eyed man who had introduced them. Adam had thought Deirdre was Durell’s girl. But when Durell was transferred elsewhere, Deirdre stayed on alone at the desert motel. Adam began to date her, diffidently at first. He knew something had gone wrong between Deirdre and Durell—a quarrel, perhaps, a deep and serious quarrel. He didn’t know the details and didn’t care. He only knew that Deirdre was unlike any other girl he’d ever met.
    He closed his eyes and let his memory of her fill him. It was like coming back to life again. . . .

CHAPTER III
    Durell flew from New York to Paris and looked up Charley Loughlin there. Loughlin told him to go back to the States.
    “We’ve got a cable on you, Sam. McFee is raising hell. You're out of bounds and he wants you back in Washington.” 
    “I’m here on my own time,” Durell said. “What have you heard from Harry Hammett?”
    “Nothing. And if I knew, I couldn’t tell you. You’re just hunting trouble, Cajun. This job doesn’t concern you. You’re on leave from K Section and supposed to be resting up, back home. Why not leave it to Hammett?”
    “I will, when I go back with Deirdre Padgett.” “You’re going back on the next plane,” Loughlin said. “I’ve got your ticket here. Free ride, compliments of K Section.”
    Durell looked angry. “Is that an order?”
    “Well, not exactly. No. But. . .”
    Loughlin drew a deep breath. It was early morning in Paris, and his office was a photography shop on the Rue Griselle, not far from the Seine. It was an overcast day. Loughlin was a small, cherubic man with a bald head and sharp, discerning eyes under remarkably bushy brows. He looked more French than American, having been in charge of the CIA drop here for over six years. He had picked up French mannerisms, Durell noted, in the way he now waved his hands and shrugged.
    “Let well enough alone, Cajun. If your former girl chooses to go to Vienna with Harry Hammett, we