He figured out the
possibilities and came up with an answer which would smear Ross Murdock
all over any map. If Kurt were waiting to meet friends out here, they
could only be of one brand.
For most of his short life Ross had been engaged in a private war
against the restrictions imposed upon him by a set of legal rules to
which something within him would not conform. And he had, during those
same years filled with attacks, retreats, and strategic maneuvering,
formulated a code of rules by which to play his dangerous game. He had
not murdered, and he would never follow the path Kurt took. To one who
was supremely impatient of restraint, the methods and aims of Kurt's
employers were not only impossibly fantastic and illogical--they were to
be opposed to the last ounce of any man's energy.
"Your friends late?" He tried to sound casual.
"Not yet, and if you now plan to play the hero, Murdock, think better of
it!" Kurt's tone held the crack of an order--that note Ross had so much
disliked in the major's voice.
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