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She nodded again.

«So let's get ourselves up and do them!» He ran a hand lightly down her spine and slapped her smartly on the buttocks. Slowly and reluctantly she rose, and just as slowly and reluctantly he scrambled to his feet to join her.

They found a route up the cliffs and set up camp on top, overlooking the mouth of the bay. Concealed between two large boulders, the camp was sheltered both from the wind and from passing eyes. At the same time it gave them a much better view of all possible approaches to their refuge.

There would be little hope for them if anyone did come. If their presence on this bare and inhospitable island were known to an enemy, they would face a grim situation. Blade hoped Rilla did not realize how little hope there would be, although she had a surprising ability to calmly look great dangers and long odds in the face.

In any case, Blade's forebodings turned out to be unnecessary. If a hunt for them ever was launched, it certainly got nowhere near Steyra Island. They spent twelve days there, living on fish and on biscuit and salt meat from the fishing boat. They got a little hungry, but they still found the strength to make love every morning, almost every night, and sometimes at noon as well.

On their lucky thirteenth day an Imperial submarine appeared. On the eighteenth day after reaching Steyra Island they were safely back in Englor, and Rilla was able to report what the Red Flames were doing with her discoveries in genetics and cloning.

Unfortunately, no one would believe her.

Chapter 18

General Strong looked across his desk with an expression that seemed to indicate he wished the people facing him would vanish in a puff of smoke.

«Dragons?» he said.

Rilla nodded. «Dragons.»

«Flying, fire-breathing dragons?»

She nodded again.

«Flying, fire-breathing dragons that are going to fly from the tops of the mountains of Nordsbergen and land in Englor?»

Rilla nodded a third time. «It would be more accurate to say that they will glide, General. They are too heavy to really fly, except in a very strong wind. But-«

Blade gently squeezed Rilla's hand and she fell silent. Blade did not much care for the tone in General Strong's voice. Granted that General Sir Morgan Strong was Director of the Office of Military Intelligence. That did not prove that he himself had any intelligence. Certainly he was showing very little of it now.

Blade felt like saying that aloud. On the other hand, Sir Morgan Strong was a full general. He himself was a major with a background that could not safely be subjected to close investigation. General Strong seemed like the type to investigate any major who talked out of turn.

Blade decided he would have to leave in R's hands the problem of coping with General Strong.

The one-eyed man took a deep breath. «General Strong, I assume you question the reliability of Miss Haran's reports, in spite of her role in the creation of these dragons?»

General Strong obviously did. Just as obviously, he wasn't quite ready to come right out and call Rilla a high-priced defector to her face and in R's presence. «Not altogether. It merely seems to me improbable, to the point that I am extremely reluctant to commit this office of His Imperial Majesty's Armed Forces to any course of action based on it.»

R raised his bushy gray eyebrows, and Blade had the sense that battle had been joined. When R raised his eyebrows that way, it meant he'd made his decision. General Strong now had only two choices-he could surrender, or R would try to destroy him and probably succeed.

«You do not, I assume, question the existence of the cloning processes described in the material Miss Haran has presented?»

Again Strong shook his head. «No. I do not. I can say that definitely. I can also say that I see no logical reason why these processes should have been used to create-let us be frank, to create monsters out of children's fairy tales.» This time it was Rilla who looked as if she wanted to speak bluntly to the general-or even breathe fire all over him, like one of her own dragons.

R nodded with elaborate politeness. Blade recognized that nod as one of satisfaction. General Strong now had plenty of rope to hang himself. «Then your decision is final, with regard to action on this report?»

«It is. As long as I hold this office, His Majesty's Armed Forces will not be diverted from action against their real enemies to guard against, still less pursue, fairy tales.»

R chose to take those words as a dismissal. He gathered up Blade and Rilla with his eyes and they passed into the outer office.

Rilla's own bodyguards met them to escort her away. Blade took her aside into an alcove for a moment. Her arms went slowly around him, and her head rested on his shoulder.

«When they think it's safe, would you like to come away on a private holiday with me for a few days? I imagine it could be arranged.»

Rilla straightened up and looked at Blade. She was wearing high heels, and her eyes were nearly on a level with his. She looked at him in expressionless silence for a moment, then smiled.

«I would like that very much, Richard. I like the way you asked, too. It seemed you really wanted to know what I felt, and if I had said no you would have said nothing.»

Blade smiled in his turn. «Don't get in the habit of crediting me with virtues I may not have.»

«Ah, but that is one virtue you do have. You do not take me for granted. You are not the first man whose company I have found good, Richard. But you are the first who has not taken me for granted. I could care for you a great deal more than any of those other men, I think.»

Blade felt like telling her that he was not a good man to care for, not with his duties and with the war so close. But she must already know that. If she was setting it all aside…

«Well,» he said. «I think we can talk more of that some other time and place.»

«And more than talk,» she said, kissing him gently. She turned and walked out of the alcove to join her bodyguards.

When she'd gone, Blade and R went out to their staff car. As the car wound its way through London traffic toward the airport, R looked at Blade with a more than usually unreadable expression on his face and said quietly, «We have our evidence about Elva Thompson.»

«Conclusive?»

«Eighty percent.»

That was greater reliability than one could usually expect in intelligence matters. Whatever was about to happen to Elva would probably be well deserved.

A moment passed, and Blade realized that R seemed to be hesitating. That could hardly mean anything but bad news. Blade found himself resenting R's apparent notion that he was weak where Elva was concerned.

«Well?» he said abruptly.

«She is the center of Red Flame penetration of our Division. Not the only person involved, probably. But the key one.»

Blade's head jerked. «Was she responsible for the fake order about not deviating from prescribed routes?»

«She was. That is good, in a way. It means we only need to eliminate a spy, instead of also searching for some dusty-brained idiot who gave that order in perfectly good faith. It was Elva. She'd been around long enough to know all our forms and procedures. It was easy enough for her to insert a false message into the proper channels and set you and-what was his name?»

«Piedar Goron.»

«-up for that trap at the airfield. However, they set the trap for foxes. What they caught was a lion.»

«Thank you, sir.»

«Don't thank me. I should thank you for what you've done on this mission. You've got an absolutely matchless gift for this kind of work. I'll push it all the way up to the Minister of Defense if they don't approve you for lieutenant colonel at least.»