Tanner's Virgin by Lawrence Block Page B

whatever language they spoke. On top of that they seemed to be speaking a dialect of Russian with which I was not familiar, so that of those words which were intelligible there were some I had trouble understanding.
    Still, I got the gist of it. They were on their way to some country where the groundwork was already being laid for a revolution.
    They were set to overthrow a government.
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    When they went away, leaving me with no idea of just what government they were overthrowing, or when, or why, I pulled the mackintosh over my head and thought about frying pans and fires. It occurred to me that all of this was some extraordinarily involved put-on concocted for my benefit. This was a tempting theory, and in a way it made as much sense as anything else. Because why on earth would a batch of Russian agents be sneaking across the English Channel in a smuggler’s boat? And what government were they going to overthrow?
    â€œAh, there ye are!” It was Daly, my Irish friend, with a leather-covered flask in his hand. He sat cross-legged beside me, opened the flask, and took a long drink. “Bedad, there’s no better remedy for the cold.”
    He sighed and passed the flask to me. “Slainte,” I said, and drank. It wasn’t just what my stomach had in mind, but by now I was used to the roll of the sea. Besides, the hell with what my stomach had in mind. Agood draught of Irish whiskey was certainly what my mind had in mind, and right now that seemed the most important consideration.
    He said, “Bloody Rooshians and Ukrahoonians and God knows what-all.” He took another drink and passed the flask to me again. I drank. “The lads ye have to work with in this bloody business. A couple of fine boys like you and myself, there should be a better place for us than this slogging old tub and this mucking ocean. Sure, and half an hour more and we’ll be in France.”
    â€œA long way from County Mayo,” I said.
    â€œToo far to walk, eh?” We laughed, and he had a drink and I had a drink. “Oh, a good long walk from County Mayo, and more than a hop skip jump from Liverpool, too. But France is still a damn sight closer to home than Afghanistan, I’d say.”
    I went numb. I said, “How did you know I was going to Afghanistan?”
    He looked at me, and I looked at him, and that went on for longer than was entirely comfortable. “Bejasus,” he said finally. “Then you’re for it, too, are ye?”
    â€œUh—”
    â€œThose bloody Rooshians. Here we are like McGinnis and McCarthy, two Irishmen in on the same show and neither bloody one knows that the other one’s there. Do ye believe it now? Have ye ever heard its like?”
    Oh, I thought, stupidly. He hadn’t meant that Afghanistan was a long ways from Ireland for me to be. He had meant it was a long ways from Ireland for him to be. Which meant that he and the bloody Rooshians were on their way to just that spot, which in turn meant that I suddenly knew what government it was that theyintended to overthrow. And which also meant, now that I had opened my idiot mouth, that he thought I was a part of the group, bound for the same destination with the same purpose, and—
    Oh.
    â€œAnd here’s everyone saying you’re only a paying guest the captain was greedy enough to take on, and you not knowing about us or we about you. Why, I’ll let them know how things stand.”
    â€œNo, don’t do that.”
    â€œWhat, and contend with these foreigners meself? Let the bleeders know from the start they’ve two Irish lads to deal with.”
    â€œHave another drink first,” I suggested.
    â€œHave it for me,” he said, passing me the flask. “I won’t be a minute.”
    I took a long drink, shuddered, capped the flask. I had made a grave mistake, but now that I thought about it I could see how it might work out for the best. If they were really a crew