“By the way,” Pitt continued, “that phony message you sent implicating Prime Minister Koertsmann was never really taken at face value. The White House was satisfied that Operation Wild Rose was conceived and conducted behind his back. Thus, your oily scheme to take over your own government was blown to dust. In the end Fawkes did you in, even if it was posthumously. The other details were supplied by Major Machita, who agreed to bury the hatchet with Colonel Zeegler long enough to put you away. As to my presence, I asked for and received the role of master of ceremonies because of my debt to Captain Fawkes.”

De Vaal stared at Pitt, his features set in defeat. Then he turned to Zeegler. “Joris, you arranged for my betrayal?”

“No man stands with a traitor.”

“If ever a man deserved to die, De Vaal, it is you,” said Machita. The hatred seemed to seep from his pores.

De Vaal ignored Machita. “You cannot simply execute a man of my station. The law demands a trial.”

“It is Prime Minister Koertsmann’s wish that there be no scandal.” Zeegler spoke without looking his chief in the eye. “He suggested you die in the line of duty.”

“That would make me a martyr.” A tiny degree of confidence restored De Vaal’s composure. “Can you see me as a martyr?”

“No, sir. That’s why he agreed to my proposal that you turn up missing. Better you become a forgotten mystery than a national hero.”

Too late, De Vaal caught the glint of steel as Machita’s knife arched up between his groin and navel. The Defence Minister’s eyes bulged in shock. He tried to speak; his mouth moved slackly, but the only sound that came was an animallike gasp. A red stain spread across his uniform.

Machita kept his hand on the knife’s handle, watching death as it closed about De Vaal. Then, as the body sagged, Machita gave it a push backward, and De Vaal fell into the open grave. The three men walked to the edge and stood looking down as streams of dirt trickled and dropped on the figure sprawled below.

“A fitting rest for his kind,” Machita muttered.

Zeegler’s face was pale. He was hardened to seeing battlefield dead,

284 p>

VIXEN 03

but this was quite another thing. “I’ll have the driver fill in the grave.”

Pitt shook his head. “No need. Fawkes made one final request in his log. I promised myself I’d see to it.”

“As you wish.” Zeegler turned to leave. Machita looked as if he were going to say something, thought better of it, and started toward the underbrush surrounding the cemetery.

“Hold on,” said Pitt. “Neither of you can afford to waste this opportunity.”

“Opportunity?” Zeegler said.

“After acting together to destroy a mutual cancer, it would be stupid not to stand face to face and discuss your differences.”