The Falconer's Tale by Gordon Kent Page B

the loch. On balance, it didn’tlook very attractive from here. It looked like work. “How much?”
    â€œI’m just the messenger.” Dukas was looking over thebalcony. Piat realized that Dukas’s wife was directly belowthem on the street.
    They both watched Leslie. Her laugh and the baby’s mewlof delight were easy to hear. Then Dukas said, “Listen, Jerry—Al Craik thinks it’s important. You know—”
    â€œI know you two go way back. Everyone in the businessknows.”
    â€œOkay. That’s all I can say, except I’ve been straight withyou, and now I’d like a little payback. I’d like to know whatthis is about.”
    Piat sat back. “I don’t really know, Mike.” He didn’t wantDukas to feel he was shutting him out—Piat was gatheringhis thoughts and trying to decide where his interest lay. And,he admitted to himself, Dukas had been straight with him.“Partlow asked me to re-recruit an old agent.”
    â€œIn Scotland?”
    â€œMull.”
    Dukas made a gesture: “Mull” had no meaning.
    â€œMull’s an island. Scotland.” Piat shut up. He’d saidenough—way too much, probably, but he’d provided plentyof data for a guy like Dukas.
    â€œAnd?” probed Dukas.
    â€œI signed a piece of paper. Ask Partlow.” Piat indicated thebackpack, and by extension, the phone number.
    Dukas shook his head. “That’s the best you can do for me,Jerry?”
    Piat sipped the last of his Helenika. He found that hewasn’t thinking about what favors he might owe Dukas. Hewas seeing another angle—his own safety. Something aboutthis operation just didn’t smell right. Now it stank more. Hefelt the pull of the scrap of paper and he thought that hemight just tell Partlow to suck eggs—but he suspected Partlowwas going to have to make a big offer. After all, Mike Dukashad come all the way here with his pretty wife. So, bigmoney. And Piat reacted to big money.
    So, say he did it. Took the money. Dukas might give himan angle. What if the whole thing was bad . Piat had seenops go bad, back in the day.
    All that in the blink of an eye and a sip of Helenika. “Theguy—my old agent—is a falconer.”
    They shared a long look.
    Piat pushed his cup aside and leaned forward to Dukas.“My turn. I really don’t know squat about this, okay? AndI just told you everything you’d need to know—right? Okay.So here’s my side. Give me your home number and anaddress. Maybe I’ll tell you a thing or two as we go along.Or maybe I’ll tell Clyde to fuck off. Okay? And in return—in return, if I do this, and it goes to shit, you get me out.Because, let’s face it, I don’t like Clyde Partlow.”
    He certainly had Dukas’s attention. “Get you out? Jerry,no offense, but I’m no part of this.”
    Piat looked him squarely in the eye. “Bullshit. You wantthe goods on Partlow’s op. Frankly, I think Partlow will workovertime to keep me in the dark, but I’m offering you my‘cooperation.’ Right? And you give me a nice number on apiece of paper somewhere, and poof! I’m an informer, andyou can protect me. Right?”
    Dukas shook his head. “I don’t hire informers inside theCIA.”
    Piat laughed. “You would if there were any available. I’mnot ‘inside the CIA’ anymore. I’m some guy, a petty crook,that Partlow wants for the great game. I could even be apretty decent source on antiquities.”
    Dukas looked so dubious that Piat laughed, and then theyboth laughed. Other patrons glanced at them.
    Dukas leaned forward and shook his head. “No, Jerry. Noprotection. I’d like to hear what you have to say. I’d probablygo to bat for you if Partlow tries to screw you in theend. But I’m not going to give you a security blanket so thatI can find in a year that you left it wrapped