Free The Ambushers by Donald Hamilton

“if you need anything special, you’ll have to supply yourself locally or give us time to send out what you want. If you need an assistant, one can be provided. There are some young people at the ranch for training, one of whom might as well be picking up a little practical experience. He could, for instance, get the interviews started while you make a preliminary investigation along the border.”
    “Well, eleven blocks is a lot of houses,” I said. “I wouldn’t mind a little help, but I don’t particularly want a green kid tagging along.” I hesitated. The idea that had come into my mind was ridiculous, but I heard myself saying: “What about Sheila? She’s been around long enough to learn the ropes a little.”
    “Sheila?” It took a lot to surprise him, but I’d managed.
    “She wants out,” I said. “Out of here. That’s what she came to tell me last night.”
    “It’s out of the question,” Mac said. “Dr. Stern says—”
    “Dr. Tommy has a thing about curing people, I’m afraid,” I said. “I think he sometimes forgets that his job isn’t to make us into perfectly adjusted human beings, it’s to return us to the front lines in good shooting condition. Hell, if he ever managed to adjust us, we’d quit this racket. The girl walks and talks now, and she wants out.”
    “You’re being sentimental,” Mac said.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “She is in no shape to—”
    “To ask silly questions and record the silly answers on a questionnaire? If she isn’t now, she will be in ten days. It could be a damn sight better for her than staying here and having Tommy and his nurses tinkering with her subconscious. Occupational therapy, we call it.”
    There was a long silence. Then his voice came reluctantly: “You’d be responsible, Eric. And remember, we have doctors on the payroll but you’re not one of them. You have other duties, which must come first.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “There is no accounting for tastes, of course,” he said deliberately. “But I thought there was a lady in Texas—”
    I said, “What’s my love life got to do with this?”
    “Then what—”
    I grimaced at the sound-proof paneling in front of me. “As you say, I’m being sentimental, sir. Do you remember a man we called Vance?”
    “Why, yes. He died up in northern Europe.”
    “Yes, sir. And do you remember a man we called LeBaron?”
    “Yes. He died... Oh, I begin to see. Vaguely.”
    “Yes, sir. LeBaron was killed in Juarez, Mexico, helping me. Vance was killed in Kiruna, Sweden, helping me. And how many other good agents have I taken out and lost in the line of duty? So when for once in my life I find one instead and bring her back alive, I’d just kind of like to see that she makes it all the way. Dr. Tommy himself will admit he can’t do anything for her unless she wants him to, and she doesn’t. Maybe I can.”
    “Very well.” His voice was crisp. “As I say, it’s your responsibility. She can start the interviews a week from Wednesday. You’d better head down towards Antelope Wells as soon as the medical department approves. But be sure you get back to Tucson in time to take over if something goes wrong.”
    I said, “Yes, sir. If she blows up on the job I’ll ship the pieces back here and handle the rest of it myself.”
    “Just remember,” he said, “the mental health of one agent, or even her life, or yours, is not really significant against the larger picture.”
    He was starting to talk like an ad man in his old age. “The larger picture,” I said. “Yes, sir. We’ll get you von Sachs.”

8
    The border country hadn’t changed much in the time I’d been away. It was still a barren, yellowish-gray-green landscape with only an occasional cottonwood for a tree and an occasional dark mountain range to break the monotony of the rolling, empty plain. The farther south I proceeded towards Antelope Wells, the less there was to see. Anybody who wants to call it a desert will get no argument