Lone Wolf #5: Havana Hit Read Online Free

guard. The guard shrugged, came toward the desk, stood behind the heavy man and very carefully lifted his pistol.
    Almost delicately he hit the man behind the ear. It was contrived to be a grazing blow, successful that way, and only a thin smear of blood came from the scalp lining behind the ear. The heavy man did not even fall. He stood there in confusion as if someone had whipped out a handkerchief and thrust it upon him and then, almost casually he moaned, staggered backward, landed against the wall.
    The other man reached forward in a gesture of appeal. “Look,” he said, “I don’t know—”
    “You keep quiet too,” Delgado said. He found that his hands were curling convulsively in rage. No good. It could not be this way. If anything was to come of this he would have to remain in control. “All right,” he said to the guard, “get out. Stand outside the door. I don’t think that we’ll have any problem here but if you hear any noises—”
    The guard nodded. His English was only fair but he gave the impression of complete comprehension which was enough. He walked to the door, opened it gently and went outside.
    Delgado leaned back in his chair and looked at the two men. The one that was supposed to be the spokesman was running his hands through his scalp, feeling the seam of the cut, a strange, blank expression in his eyes which was worse than fear because he had not yet judged what was happening to him. The other man stood quietly, holding his hands together, looking past Delgado out the window where he could see the mountains. They were not thoughts of escape that were overtaking him but merely a wistful desire for an openness he would never see again. Delgado knew the feeling well. He had been there.
    “You gentlemen have put us—all of us,” he said, “in an impossible situation. Now I am going to do the talking and you are going to do nothing but quietly listen. I do not think that you truly understand what you have done and I have been appointed to tell you.”
    The heavy man said desperately, “Listen, damn it, we had instructions—” and then at a look from Delgado seemed to become aware of the fact that he was speaking. He put a hand to his mouth like a child. A thread of blood came down over his eyebrow giving him a clown’s aspect.
    “Your instructions have nothing to do with our situation,” Delgado said, “nothing to do with our situation at all. You have hijacked a major airliner with very controversial contents, have set it down in this country, have drawn international attention at a time when we want a minimum of attention, and have put my government in an impossible position. Certain agreements which were being worked out through the most intense and delicate of negotiations may have been utterly destroyed by this adventure. You have drawn maximum attention to a very dangerous situation at precisely the point where for the first time that situation seemed to be ending. And furthermore—” the heavy man seemed about to say something and Delgado raised a hand which quieted him, the man burbled to silence, the other one was looking at Delgado with an expression of absolute terror—our government has very strong feelings about being involved in what is known by the uninformed as the international drug trade. My country has had bery serious problems with this in the past and it is only through the most dedicated cleansing of the government at all levels, from bottom to top, that in the last several years we have come to assume some control over the situation. And now you have brought here and placed in our custody perhaps the largest single amount of drugs which has ever existed in a single shipment and you have also placed in our custody an extremely dangerous man who has drawn more attention. Do you begin to see now what you have done? Is there any awareness?”
    Delgado sighed, leaned back from the desk and fumbled in the drawer for a cigarette, not looking at the two men now,