Shots rang out as he was leaving the little villa.
Tile chipped up some twenty feet behind him, exploded.
He broke into a trot, moved behind a series of small bluffs, turned, and with his first shot dropped one of the men dead in his tracks.
They would form a net, a circle; Spender knew that.
They would go around and close in and they would get him.
It was a strange thing that the grenades were not used.
Captain Wilder could easily order the grenades tossed.
But I’m much too nice to be blown to bits, thought Spender.
That’s what the captain thinks.
He wants me with only one hole in me.
Isn’t that odd? He wants my death to be clean.
Nothing messy.
Why?
Because he understands me.
And because he understands, he’s willing to risk good men to give me a clean shot in the head.
Isn’t that it?
Nine, ten shots broke out in a rattle. Rocks around him jumped up.
Spender fired steadily, sometimes while glancing at the silver book he carried in his hand.
The captain ran in the hot sunlight with a rifle in his hands.
Spender followed him in his pistol sights but did not fire.
Instead he shifted and blew the top off a rock where Whitie lay, and heard an angry shout.
Suddenly the captain stood up.
He had a white handkerchief in his hands.
He said something to his men and came walking up the mountain after putting aside his rifle.
Spender lay there, then got to his feet, his pistol ready.
The captain came up and sat down on a warm boulder, not looking at Spender for a moment.
The captain reached into his blouse pocket.
Spender’s fingers tightened on the pistol.
The captain said, “Cigarette?”
“Thanks.”
Spender took one.
“Light?”
“Got my own.”
They took one or two puffs in silence.
“Warm,” said the captain.
“It is.”
“You comfortable up here?”
“Quite.”
“How long do you think you can hold out?”
“About twelve men’s worth.”
“Why didn’t you kill all of us this morning when you had the chance?
You could have, you know.”
“I know.
I got sick.
When you want to do a thing badly enough you lie to yourself.
You say the other people are all wrong.
Well, soon after I started killing people I realized they were just fools and I shouldn’t be killing them.
But it was too late.
I couldn’t go on with it then, so I came up here where I could lie to myself some more and get angry, to build it all up again.”
“Is it built up?”