Queen Victoria's Revenge Read Online Free PDF

perhaps South America, where dictators can be bribed. Or Africa, anything can happen in Africa.”
    â€œIt might well be Africa, and Brussels just a refueling stop.”
    â€œCallate y traenos comida. La muchacha te enseñara donde está.”
    It was Jorge, gun waving and obnoxious and more than a little drunk. Tony smiled falsely and nodded agreement.
    â€œCome on, they want some food. We had better do just as they ask.”
    â€œI agree. It will also be an opportunity to bring food to the flight deck. They have had nothing all day.”
    She led Tony to the galley service center amidship where she opened the door of a tiny elevator. It was a snug fit for two, which he rather enjoyed and she appeared completely indifferent to. The galley was on the deck below, very complete with ovens, freezer and refrigerator compartments. Jasmin made herself very busy opening doors, turning on switches and sliding foil-covered platters into place. Tony examined gloomily the choice of drinks and decided against rose water and for orange juice. He poured a large glass, wished briefly for a double shot of vodka, then downed it and went to help Jasmin.
    â€œCan I give you a hand?”
    â€œIt is not needed now, but later you may help bring the cart up.”
    There were cardboard containers on the meals, which she discarded as she loaded the food into the oven. The interesting six-sided star printed on the outside of them drew Tony’s attention. He picked one out of the bag.
    â€œPride-of-Zion Kosher Chicken…”
    â€œThrow that out,” she snapped, tearing it from his hand and discarding it.
    â€œSorry but I thought, Arabs, you know…”
    â€œI know indeed since I am Egyptian. But I am French educated and not as narrow of mind as some. Moslem and Jewish dietetic laws are similar indeed and these … meals you saw … are easily available from airport food suppliers. I am in charge of this, it is a small compromise. So if you would…”
    Dark eyes rolled up toward him pleadingly, she could almost be an Apache girl with that skin and those eyes, and he melted instantly.
    â€œYour secret is safe, I will never tell, never.”
    â€œYou are very nice.”
    This time he did not resist the impulse to pat her hand and when he did so she smiled—then stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Blood pounded nicely in his head and he reached for that delicate waist—here in the galley at 25,000 feet?—and his hands closed on air as she turned back to the oven.
    After this came the thoroughly uninteresting task of getting carts in and out of the elevator and serving the bleary Cubans, while ignoring all the laughing offers of an apron and the shouts of maricon, joto and pargo, until he was finally permitted to serve the flight crew. It was dark on the flight deck, the cold stars outside appearing brighter than the hooded illumination of the instruments. The guard made them turn on the cabin lights, then watched closely as Tony served the food.
    â€œJasmin’s aboard,” he said. “She was knocked out by the head thug and shanghaied inadvertently.”
    â€œNo more bad news, Hawkin,” Captain Haycroft said thickly through a mouthful of stuffed derma. “They ordered clear airspace on all sides and I suppose we have it—though I think there are a couple of Air Force jets riding hard on us.”
    â€œWhere are we?”
    â€œJust clearing the tip of Newfoundland. Have a one-hundred-knot tail wind, making good time. Routed over Ireland and England and right into Brussels. And no idea of what they will do then.”
    â€œBasta de tanto hablar. Salte de aquí.”
    â€œUgly here says I have to leave. Good luck.”
    â€œThanks.” Haycroft sawed patiently and unsuccessfully at the kosher chicken. “Try and cheer Jasmin up. Tell her we’re sorry she’s in this mess too.”
    Stunned by fatigue, food and drink, most of