Free Delta Factor, The by Mickey Spillane

and handed her a can. “Have a cold one.”
    A smile danced around her mouth as she took it. “I didn’t think you could be affected like that.”
    â€œWhen I marry I sure can pick them,” I said. “Sorry, but you surprised me.” I tasted the beer, licked my lips and let my eyes roam over her again. “You have a hell of a shape, baby.”
    â€œSo I’ve been told. At times it’s useful to disconcert somebody.”
    â€œI’m disconcerted. You did a magnificent job.”
    The little smile drifted away then. “Don’t take it to heart. It’s only a temporary arrangement.”
    I couldn’t let her get away with it. I let my mouth twist in a nasty grin and said, “Only if I want it that way. Don’t forget it.”
    The way her stomach sucked in a fraction said she got the message but she pretended to ignore it with, “Did you make your contact?”
    I nodded.
    â€œCan you tell me now?”
    I finished the can of beer and tossed the empty in a wire basket behind me. “Tomorrow we charter a fishing boat that leaves from a private docking area. At noon we’ll be out about twelve miles; Art Keefer will pick up up in a seaplane, fly us offshore a mile from our destination where we’ll be met by another boat and taken in. After that we’ll play it by ear.”
    â€œIs this ... the usual arrangement?”
    â€œThe pattern varies,” I said. I let out a small laugh. “After all, people like us don’t like being nailed by the cops. It’s a way of life.”
    â€œA stupid way.”
    â€œMaybe for you, kid. It’s hard to explain. I’m assuming you’re smart enough not to try to bust any of these people. Not that you can. They’re clever enough to keep themselves covered.”
    â€œMy orders read that way,” she said. “We’re not interested in the little people.”
    â€œKid, you got a lot to learn,” I told her. “My friend is doing us a favor. Taking us in will be easy. He’s putting his neck on the line getting us out.”
    â€œNo he isn’t.”
    I turned slowly and looked at her. She focused her eyes on my face and said, “The return trip will be under our direction. You see, we’re not taking any chances on losing you along the line.”
    â€œYou’re crazy, sugar. What makes you think I won’t cut out anytime?”
    â€œBecause you’re made like that. Now you’re having fun.”
    â€œI’ve changed my mind before.”
    â€œThat’s why I’m wearing the bikini,” she said. “At least it will keep you thinking of other things. Not that it will do you any good,” she added.
    My grin got nice and tight this time. “Why does the female have the unholy idea she can conquer the male?”
    â€œCan’t she?” There was the slightest haughty tone to her voice.
    â€œOnly some,” I said. “Only some, baby.”
    Then Art Keefer came up and rescued us both from the conversation. He was a big, rangy guy with corded forearms and hair bleached almost white from the sun, skin like tanned leather and bright green eyes that had looked on the world and thrown it away. He had the indelible stamp of the adventurer, a perpetual cynical twist to his mouth, scars from a dozen battles etched into the lines of his face.
    His reaction to Kim was almost the same as mine, the sudden appreciation but tempered with regret because right now she belonged to me. I hadn’t seen him for seven years, but nobody would have known it. He threw me a wink and said, “Hello, jailbird.”
    â€œThey didn’t keep me long enough to rate the compliment, Art.”
    â€œSomebody should have clued them in. How’d you do it?”
    â€œRubber bars,” I laughed “Meet Kim Stacy ... or rather, Mrs. Morgan.”
    â€œMy pleasure,” he said.
    Kim held out her hand and he took it,