"With luck," I said, "we'll get you away. I can spirit you off so nobody will ever hear of you again. So don't worry."
"Wow!" said Teenie. "Real white slavery."
Madison looked rather disconcerted. So I said loudly to the pilot, "Land as fast as you can. We don't want to be shot out of the air!"
We swooshed down to the West 30th Street Heliport.
Right there, at Pier 68, a few hundred yards to the south of us, was my objective. The Golden Sunset!
If luck was with me, I was going to steal my own yacht.
For it had occurred to me that, after all, I owned it. It had been bought on my credit card!
I paid off the pilots. Raht and Teenie unloaded the baggage and got it into two cabs, necessary even for that short haul.
We sped over and along the dock. I glanced anxiously up and down to be sure Krak and Heller weren't there yet.
"Wait," I told the cabs.
I raced aboard.
Captain Bitts was in the ship's officers' wardroom drinking coffee. Now came the real test. Would he believe me?
I pulled out my passport and threw it down in front of him. He picked it up languidly. Then he saw the name Sultan Bey. He stood up like he'd been goosed.
"You're the owner!" he said incredulously. "I thought you were in Turkey!"
"People have got to go on thinking that," I said. "That CIA man, Haggarty, stole my concubine. We must keep this hushed up to avoid any scandal. Don't even tell Squeeza I am aboard. Say no word to anybody. I am going to go to sea and try to mend my broken heart."
"Well, that's how it goes in these rich families," said Captain Bitts. "I will say that CIA man was awful good looking and that concubine was sure beautiful. Looking at you, I can see how it must have happened."
He was convinced! He was not going to query the Countess Krak! For once my unprepossessing looks had stood me in good stead!
I glanced nervously through a port at the dock. No sign of Heller or Krak.
"Sail at once," I ordered Bitts.
"Well, we're all right for fuel and water," he said. "But we don't have any fresh provisions. It will take a little while to get some from the chandler."
"My heart is so broken," I said, "that I can't stand the sight of this town another minute. Sail without them."
"How many in your party?" he said. "Just you? I ought to file a crew list."
"Omit it," I said.
"Where we going?" he said.
"Anywhere outside the United States."
"Bermuda. I can get provisions at Saint George, Bermuda."
"Good," I said, glancing out the port. "SAIL!"
"You didn't tell me how many there were in your party."
"Two. My niece and her boyfriend. SAIL!"
"Do you have any baggage?"
"It's on the dock. Send your crew racing down to grab it and get this ship to sea. My heart won't stand much more of this. SAIL!"
"You're the owner," he said.
At last!
I raced out. I looked up and down the dock. Still no sign of anyone pursuing. I saw a telephone cable to the ship. Oh, Gods, the Countess Krak might phone the captain.
Four crewmen came down the gangplank, followed by the Chief Steward. They began to shift the tattered baggage aboard.
"Hey, what's this?" said Teenie, having finally gotten my attention. She was pointing at the Golden Sunset.
"It's my yacht," I said.
"Well, Jesus Christ," she said. "That's the biggest God (bleeped) yacht I ever saw. Man, you run this white-slave ring in style!"
"Go aboard," I begged her. "And take Madison with you."
The Chief Steward said, "The young lady, sir. I take it she goes in the owner's suite?"
"No way!" I said. "Give her one of her own. And give that young man another one." My eyes were on that phone cable going up to the ship. It was still connected! Krak could still call.
I grabbed Raht. I had seized Krak's activator-receiver and 831 Relayer from a box. I pushed them into his hands.
"The woman's eye bug," he said. "I'll put it with the man's, back on the Empire State antenna. You better keep Crobe's. He'll be back at the base by now."
"I'm giving the orders around here," I snarled at him. "Take this." I pushed the Teenie letter to Adora and Candy at him. "See that it is mailed in two days to the apartment: that won't make the disappearance coincidental."
"Ah," he said. "You ARE kidnapping her. I swear, Officer Gris, you do the craziest things. Of what possible use to you is a teen-age Earth girl? Thin as a rail. No (bleeps). Leaping around. You could get into trouble, kidnapping her."
"You got no idea how much trouble she could be if I DIDN'T kidnap her," I said. "Shows you're not experienced in this profession at all. In addition to the charms you mention, she's also a pathological liar and even believes she sees things that aren't there. It's NOT kidnapping her that would cause trouble. So when I need you to teach me my business, I'll tell you." Riffraff. Always getting out of line.
I hastily wrote out a note. "Now see that this gets to Fatten, Farten, Burstein and Ooze, the advertising firm, today without fail."
He took it and read it. It said:
F. F. B. O.,
The jig is up on Madison. He has just been murdered and his car is at the end of the dock under Brooklyn Bridge, fathoms deep. Know positively the enemy is going to blow up 42 Mess Street. Close that operation at once.
Smith
"Why this?" said Raht.
"Covers the trail," I said.
"Yes, but doesn't that leave this whole Whiz Kid campaign up in the air?"
"You knew about this?"
"I have a bug on the Royal officer," said Raht.
"Well, the Whiz Kid double is in their hands," I said. "They know who has been shooting at them. We've got to cover the trail."
"I get it," said Raht. "You've abandoned your orders from Lombar Hisst."
I peered at him. With a sudden shock it occurred to me that he might be the unknown spy that was supposed to kill me if I failed. I snarled at him, "No, I haven't! This is just a strategic withdrawal to regroup forces. I mean to counterattack."
"It looks like you're the one getting attacked," said Raht. "And if you take this yacht the woman bought, she'll have you followed!"
He had a point! Hastily, I scribbled another note. "Send this as a radiogram," I said. "To her condo address."
He read it. It said:
MADAM.
REGRET TO INFORM YOU YACHT HAS BEEN INDUCTED INTO THE TURKISH NAVY.
THERE'S NOTHING ANYONE CAN DO ABOUT IT.
HAVE SAILED FOR TURKEY. SORRY.
CAPT. BITTS
I thought it was pretty clever. The last place in the world I would go was Turkey.
Captain Bins himself was at my side now. "Sir, the pilot is aboard and the tug is on its way. We're singled up on lines and ready to cast off." He saluted and went up the gangway to await me on the deck.
I said to Raht, "I'm sailing now. I won't be back to the U. S."
"Can I count on that?" said Raht.
I ignored his insolence. "You can count on the eventual demise of that Royal officer and that (bleeped) woman," I said.
I glanced along the dock. There was no sign of Heller or Krak. And then something caught my eye. The dock telephone man had parted the cable!
I could make it!
I rushed up the gangplank and they swung it away.
The tug was there.
Lines came off the dock bollards.
Space gaped wider and wider between the hull and the pier.
Still no sign of Heller or Krak.
I had made it!
The props were stirring a froth of river water at our stern.
We were headed for sea!
I stood and watched Manhattan fade away.
For the first time in weeks my heart began to beat normally.
I WAS STILL ALIVE! I WAS FREE!
Yes, I had outwitted them.
Not only that, but I had escaped the vile clutches of those ex-lesbians who had become my wives.