Making Love To Cousin Sister
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"He can't leave." The most senior Special Agent, the SAC, said.
Waving his Diplomatic Passport, Into Valmaat, said, "Sure he can."
"He's been detained," said the SAC.
"For what purpose?" Into asked.
"We have questions," said the fourteen Federal Bureau Agents.
"You have run out of questions," Into said.
"But we want to know..." said the SAC.
"He doesn't know," Into repeated.
"He HAS to know," said the fourteen.
"Why?"
"The Tug belongs to him," said a minion.
"That makes Eels Tuobro his employee," said another.
"Employers should know what their employees are doing," said a third.
Into said, "You're sure about that?"
"Yes!" exclaimed the fourteen.
"Mildred Johnson works for the Bureau ... what is her assignment?"
"How should we know?"
"Employers should know what their employees are doing!" Into shook his head, "Come on, Mr. Valmaat."
"He has to stay," said the Special Agent in Charge.
"What can you do if he doesn't?" Into said.
"The United States will withhold money from Holland," said the SAC.
"What does Mr. Valmaat have to do with Holland?"
"He's from there."
"Mr. Valmaat is not from Holland," Into said.
"He has to be, there's two A's in his last name. Everybody knows people with dual A's in their names are from Holland," the SAC replied.
"Are you sure you have detained the right person?" Into asked. "Mr. Valmaat is from Finland."
They let me go live on the boat.
On Sunday, around noon, all fourteen Agents assaulted the boat. Maybe not; they did knock.
"We found your tugboat," the SAC said.
"Where is it?" I asked.
"Malta."
"Malta?"
"Malta. Your tugboat entered the harbor with another tug in tow. They're fueling up."
"What happened to the other tow?"
"The British found the ship bow first grounded on the beach at the Nahal Sorek, a river. The river had cut a channel out into the Med. The ship avoided the shallows and ran a good hundred feet up the beach ... completely abandoned. Rope netting ... British cargo nets ... war surplus ... festooned the sides of the ship and the fleeing foot prints disappeared at the road," said the SAC.
"The least minion ... the one with the degree in anthropology said that it was the very best time of the last ten years. The river often disappears in the desert before it reaches the sea."
"So ... can I go?"
"We have no further reason to hold you." The SAC said, "We have a message for your Nanny. 'Meet me in Galveston, Willard.' Does that mean anything?"
"Heather!"
There was a little crashing around in the salon. Heather came bounding out.
"Tell her," I said.
The SAC told her the verbal.
Heather Eeped and fainted.
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