April Dancer had served her term as a researcher. So had Count Kazan. Many contact men are researchers. Their official role comes between the true researcher and the top- assignment agent, but they use researchers for detailed background work. The qualities that make a good researcher do not necessarily make a good agent, but a top agent has to, and can, perform all tasks. Researchers who show great courage, initiative, coolness and good judgment, allied to physical stamina and power, are always encouraged and recognized as viable agent material.

Colamina Sherez was one of these. The plan she proposed lay well outside her scope as a researcher, but on this small island her term of usefulness without danger to herself was in any case ending.

Count Kazan said: "It is your decision, Miss Dancer. I agree with Colamina's plan, but not with the person proposed."

"But it is myself, you silly man," said Colamina.

"That's what he means," said April. "Kazan is no different from a lot of our men. They still cannot reconcile an attractive woman with danger. They are steeped in the myths of chivalry. We have the same training, can perform the same tasks in our own way, are paid as much, if not more than some of them — because, after all, we don't have to support wives and children — and have many privileges of our sex. This is our freedom. But they still want to protect us... It is not a question of sex, age or beauty, Kazan. It is only one question — will this decoy plan expose another link to us? If so, then we do it. And having decided, we then use all our wits to minimize the danger to Colamina. Right?"

He shrugged resignedly. "Right."

"Then you will go to the Square and lay the ground bait. Colamina and I will be at the hotel. Buy one of those gay shopping baskets with a lid, fill it with canned goods — usual food stores — take it to your boat. Put the guns, the protective gear and the trap devices in the basket and come to the hotel. We could use Lars on this. With a radio silence in force, he could leave the boat, hire one of those motor scooters and go ahead into the hills. No one will snoop aboard at this time of day."

"Ah yes! That will make me feel much happier." Kazan beamed. "And we all could keep a radio link. I will see to it." He kissed Colamina gently. "You are still too lovely, ma petite!"

"Get going," said April curtly. "And forget your hormones. This is business."

The vegetation on Providencia was not exotic, as on many of these islands. The hills which looked so attractively olive- green from the sea were, in fact, planted with olive trees. Eucalyptus trees, prickly pear and fawn-coloured grasses were the only other vegetation. The more fertile areas were around the base of the hills between the beaches.

But the scene had grandeur and the panorama viewed from various vantage points a picture-postcard beauty. The breeze was cool and tangily scented. To tourists it made a refreshingly enjoyable trip after days on the island boat. Camera nuts could use all lenses for technical shots to brighten many a long winter evening back home — wide angle, telephoto, and "This is Marge looking for a lizard that got away".

The taxi drivers knew all the camera angles and the ways to obtain extra tips for "discovering" these. There weren't many taxis on the hills today. The young couples had hired scooters. Andre Cheval was way up there somewhere and Lars had him in view.

The girl in the lime-green dress, wearing a large-brimmed hat, sunglasses and carrying one of the island export baskets, had climbed into the taxi at the hotel — one of the newer taxis with a drophead roof — and pretended not to notice the gun bulge in the driver's coat. He himself didn't look closely at his passenger. He had orders he didn't like, but the pay was high and he couldn't refuse. He had been exported from Palaga a few years previously for the crime of over-production family-wise, now had five children and a sixth on the way. He didn't know all that happened around the island these days, but carrying out orders meant more money, providing you weren't curious.

He stopped the taxi on a small plateau, one of the camera vantage points.

"It is a lovely view, yes?"

"Uh-uh!" his passenger grunted. The difference between April and Colamina was scarcely noticeable to the fairly distant eye, but the driver particularly would notice the voice.

He stayed there for ten minutes. Colamina pressed her hand over one ear where the tiny receiver earpiece nestled.

Lars' voice said: "The truck with four men came up another route. Is hidden in a gulley near a eucalyptus grove. I cannot see the men."

"I can," said Kazan's voice. "They are among the eucalyptus trees, crouched down in the grass. Do you see April Dancer?"

"Not since she left the road and headed for that farm." Lars paused. "Is a farm — no?"

"No," said April's voice. "But don't let it worry you. The owner is an old eccentric, but a real sweetie. I am on a horse, coming through that same eucalyptus grove. At least, I hope it's the same one. Where is Colamina?"

"Stopped at a vantage point around the bend from the grove. The driver is either timing himself or waiting for a signal."

"They won't signal," said April. "Hear me, Colamina — start chewing that gum immediately the taxi moves off. You know all about the saliva-activated explosive. Keep your nerve and your hat on tight, and don't forget to collapse at the first blow."

"The taxi is backing on to the road," said Lars.

"Do you see Cheval?" Kazan asked.

"He is well out of it, but he gave a signal — no mistaking that. He warned them her taxi was coming. I am now leaving my view point. Contact out."

The driver saw his passenger chewing gum, saw one hand pressing down the floppy hat. Not long now, he thought. Then he'd be free to get back to that poker game in the hut behind the warehouse. He'd pay up the rent, buy the kids something special, give momma a treat and relax happily until the boat's next trip. It wasn't such a bad life really.

He swung the taxi deep into the grove, stopped, and sprang out. He pulled open the rear door, levelled his gun, and said politely: "Step out, if you please — quickly." If he hadn't been so sure that everything was arranged perfectly, he might have wondered why his passenger made no protest.

She stepped out, clutching her basket and chewing gum. Figures slithered from the trees. The taxi driver holstered his gun. Colamina moved quickly away from the taxi — facing the two men approaching her, not seeing the other two coming from the rear. But she knew there were four, so braced herself as she heard scuffing feet. Something thudded on to her head. She gave a moan and sank to the ground.

The U.N.C.L.E. skull-protector absorbed the main impact, but the blow made her ears sing for a few minutes. The four men were about to reach down to grab her when the driver yelled and they all turned. Colamina took the gum from her mouth and threw it a well-judged distance.

Action exploded in the green eucalyptus grove. Lars and Kazan rushed into the grove, dart guns levelled. The gum exploded under the front of the taxi. The driver was hurled back, to sprawl huddled, one arm shattered, blood spurting.

Two of the men drew guns. As they fired at Lars and Kazan, so April lunged her horse through the trees, to crash into their backs. Colamina leapt to her feet, snatching her dart gun from the basket. One of the other men flung a knife at her. It struck below her breasts. She fired once. The sleep dart hit him dead between the eyes, knocking him flat.