own."
Joe came to his feet quietly.
Max said, suddenly sobered, "Hey, major, sir ... easy. It ain'timportant."
Joe had picked up his glass of wine. With a gesture so easy as almostto be slow motion, he tossed it into the face of the foppish officer.
The Hungarian, aghast, took up his napkin and began to brush the drinkfrom his uniform, meanwhile sputtering to an extent verging onhysteria. The major who had been seated immediately to his right,fumbled in assistance, meanwhile staring at Joe as though he were amadman.
The cavalryman, though, was of sterner stuff. In the back of his mind,Joe was thinking, even as the other seized a bottle by its long neckand broke off the base on the edge of the table, _Now this one's fromthe Pink Army, an old pro, and a Russkie, sure as Zen made greenapples_.
The major came up, kicking a chair to one side. Joe hunched hisshoulders forward, took up his napkin and with a quick double gesture,wrapped it twice around his left hand, which he extended slightly.
The major came in, the jagged edges of the bottle advanced much as asword. His face was working in rage, and Joe, outwardly cool, decidedin the back of his mind that he was glad he'd never have to serveunder this one. This one gave way to rage and temper when things werepickling and there was no room for such luxuries in a fracas.
Max was yelling something from behind, something that didn't comethrough in the bedlam that had suddenly engulfed the Becsikapu.
At the last moment, Joe suddenly struck out with his left leg, hookedwith his foot the small table at which the three Sov officers had beensitting and twisted quickly, throwing it to the side and immediatelyinto the way of his enraged opponent.
The other swore as his shins banged the side and was thrown slightlyforward, for a moment off balance.
Joe stepped forward quickly, precisely, and his right chopped down andto the side of the other's prominent jawbone. The Russkie, if Russkiehe was, went suddenly glazed of eye. His doubling forward, originallybut an attempt to regain balance, continued and he fell flat on hisface.
Joe spun around. "Come on, Max, let's get out of here. I doubt ifwe're welcome." He didn't want to give the other two time to organizethemselves and decide to attack. Defeat the two, he and Max might beable to accomplish, but Joe wasn't at all sure where the waiters wouldstand in the fray, nor anyone else in the small cabaret, for thatmatter.
Max, at the peak of excitement now, yelled, "What'd you think I beensaying? Come on, follow me. There's a rear door next to the restroom."
Waiters and others were converging on them. Joe Mauser didn't wait toargue, he took Max's word for it and hurried after that small worthy,going round and about the intervening tables and chairs like an oldtime broken field football player.
XVIII
Joe Mauser had assumed there would be some sort of reverberations as aresult of his run-in with the Sov officers, but hadn't suspected themagnitude of them.
The next morning he had hardly arrived at the small embassy officewhich had been assigned him, before his desk set lit up with GeneralArmstrong's habitually worried face. He said, without taking time forcustomary amenities, "Major Mauser, could you come to my officeimmediately?" It wasn't a question.
In General George Armstrong's office, beside the general himself, werehis aide, Lieutenant Anderson who Joe had at long last sorted out fromLieutenant Dickson, Lieutenant colonel Bela Kossuth and another Sovofficer whom Joe hadn't met before.
Everybody looked very stiff and formal.
The general said to Joe, "Major Mauser, Colonel Kossuth and CaptainPetofi have approached me, as your immediate superior, to request thatyour diplomatic immunity be waived so that you might be called upon ona matter of honor."
Joe didn't get it. He looked from one of the two Hungarians to theother, then back at Armstrong, scowling.
Lieutenant Anderson said, unhappily. "These officers have been namedto represent Captain Sandor Rakoczi, major."
Bela Kossuth clicked his heels, bowed, said formally, "Our principalrealizes, Major Mauser, that diplomatic immunity prevents his issuingrequest for satisfaction. However"--the Hungarian cleared histhroat--"since honor _is_ involved--"
At long last it got through to Joe. His own voice went coldly even."General Armstrong, I--"
The general said quickly. "Mauser, as an official representative ofthe West-world, you don't have to respond to anything as dashed sillyas a challenge to a duel."
The faces of the two Hungarians froze.
Joe finished his sentence. "... I would appreciate it if you andLieutenant Anderson would act for me."
Kossuth clicked his heels again. "Gentlemen, the _code duello_provides that the challenged choose the weapons."
General Armstrong's face, usually worried, was now dark with anger."Choice of weapons, eh? Against Sandor Rakoczi? If you will excuse usnow, gentlemen, Lieutenant Anderson and I will consult with you in onehour in the Embassy Club and discuss the affair further. I sayfrankly, I have never heard of a diplomat being subjected to such asituation, especially on the part of officers of the country to whichhe is accredited."
The Hungarians were unfazed. Kossuth looked at his wrist chronometer."One hour in the Embassy Club, gentlemen." The two of them clickedagain, bowed from the waist, and were gone.
* * * * *
General Armstrong glared at Joe. "Dash it, if you hadn't been soconfoundedly quick on the trigger, I could have warned you, Mauser."
Joe Mauser wasn't over being flabbergasted. "You mean to tell me," hesaid, "that those people still conduct duels? I thought duels had goneout back in the Nineteenth Century."
"Well, you're mistaken," Armstrong bit out. "It seems to be a practicethat can crop up in any decadent society. Remember Hitler reviving itamong the German universities? Well, it's all the rage now among theofficers of the Sov world. Limited, however, to Party members, thelowly proletariat are assumed not to have honor."
Joe shrugged, "I'm not exactly an amateur at combat, you know."
The general snorted his disgust and turned to his aide. "Lieutenant,go find Dr. Haer for me. Then wait in the outer office until it's timefor us to meet those heel-clicking Hungarians."
"Yes, sir," Andersen saluted, shot another look at Joe as though incommiseration, and left hurriedly.
"What's wrong with him?" Joe said.
Armstrong pulled open a desk drawer, brought forth a bottle and glass,poured himself a strong one and knocked it back without offering anyto his junior officer. He replaced the bottle and glass and turned hisscowl back to Joe. "Haven't you ever heard of Sandor Rakoczi?"
"No."
"He happens to be All-Sov-world Fencing Champion and has been for sixyears. He also is third from the top amongst the Red Army pistol andrifle marksmen. I once saw him put on an exhibition of trick handgunshooting. Uncanny. The man has abnormal reflexes."
* * * * *
The door opened and Nadine was there. "Joe," she said. "Dick Andersensays you've been challenged to a frame-up duel by Sandor Rakoczi." Hereyes hurried on to Armstrong. "George, this is ridiculous. Joe hasdiplomatic--"
Joe wasn't getting part of this. He broke in. "What do you mean,frame-up, Nadine? We got into a hassle in a nightspot last night."
Armstrong said. "Everybody simmer down, dash it!" His eyes went toJoe. "Sandor Rakoczi doesn't get into hassles in nightspots--notunless he's been ordered to. Captain Rakoczi is what in the old dayswas known as a hatchetman." He snorted in deprecation. "The Party nolonger conducts purges amongst its own. Everything is all buddy-buddynow. Purges are something from the past. However, those on the verytop sometimes find this unfortunate. One manner that has been devisedto remove such Party members who have become a thorn in the side ofthe powers that be, is to have them challenged by such as SandorRakoczi."
Joe settled down into a chair, more dumbfounded than ever. "But that'sridiculous. _Why?_ Why should they want me eliminated?"
Nadine said hurriedly, "Yo
u don't have to accept."
Joe said, "If I don't, I'll be laughed out of town. Remember that bigbanquet the Pink Army gave me when I first arrived? The celebratedMajor Joseph Mauser fling? What happens to West-world prestige whenthe celebrated Joe Mauser backs down from a duel?"
General Armstrong mused, "If Mauser refuses the duel, he's right,he'll be laughed out of town. If he accepts it, and is killed, he isstill removed from the scene." He looked from Joe to Nadine. "Somebodyevidently doesn't want Joe Mauser in Budapest."
Pieces were beginning to fit in.
Joe looked at George Armstrong. "You're one of us, aren't you? One