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 time
for us to meet those heel-clicking Hungarians."
"Yes, sir," Andersen saluted, shot another look at Joe as though in
commiseration, 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 any
to his junior officer. He replaced the bottle and glass and turned his
scowl 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 six
years. He also is third from the top amongst the Red Army pistol and
rifle marksmen. I once saw him put on an exhibition of trick handgun
shooting. Uncanny. The man has abnormal reflexes."
* * * * *
The door opened and Nadine was there. "Joe," she said. "Dick Andersen
says you've been challenged to a frame-up duel by Sandor Rakoczi." Her
eyes hurried on to Armstrong. "George, this is ridiculous. Joe has
diplomatic--"
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 to
Joe. "Sandor Rakoczi doesn't get into hassles in nightspots--not
unless he's been ordered to. Captain Rakoczi is what in the old days
was known as a hatchetman." He snorted in deprecation. "The Party no
longer conducts purges amongst its own. Everything is all buddy-buddy
now. Purges are something from the past. However, those on the very
top sometimes find this unfortunate. One manner that has been devised
to remove such Party members who have become a thorn in the side of
the powers that be, is to have them challenged by such as Sandor
Rakoczi."
Joe settled down into a chair, more dumbfounded than ever. "But that's
ridiculous. _Why?_ Why should they want me eliminated?"