Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Analog, January 1961.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
THE
GREEN
BERET
By TOM PURDOM
It's not so much the decisions a man does make that markhim as a Man—but the ones he refrains from making. Like thedecision "I've had enough!"
Illustrated by Schoenherr
ead locked the door and drew his pistol. Sergeant Rashid handedPremier Umluana the warrant.
"We're from the UN Inspector Corps," Sergeant Rashid said. "I'mvery sorry, but we have to arrest you and bring you in for trialby the World Court."
If Umluana noticed Read's gun, he didn't show it. He read thewarrant carefully. When he finished, he said something in Dutch.
"I don't know your language," Rashid said.
"Then I'll speak English." Umluana was a small man with wrinkledbrow, glasses and a mustache. His skin was a shade lighter thanRead's. "The Inspector General doesn't have the power to arrest ahead of state—especially the Premier of Belderkan. Now, ifyou'll excuse me, I must return to my party."
In the other room people laughed and talked. Glasses clinked inthe late afternoon. Read knew two armed men stood just outsidethe door. "If you leave, Premier, I'll have to shoot you."
"I don't think so," Umluana said. "No, if you kill me, all Africawill rise against the world. You don't want me dead. You want mein court."
Read clicked off the safety.
"Corporal Read is very young," Rashid said, "but he's a crackshot. That's why I brought him with me. I think he likes toshoot, too."
Umluana turned back to Rashid a second too soon. He saw thesergeant's upraised hand before it collided with his neck.
"Help! Kidnap."
Rashid judo chopped him and swung the inert body over hisshoulders. Read pulled a flat grenade from his vest pocket. Hedropped it and yellow psycho gas hissed from the valve.
"Let's be off," Rashid said.
The door lock snapped as they went out the window. Two men withrifles plunged into the gas; sighing, they fell to the floor in acatatonic trance.
A little car skimmed across the lawn. Bearing the Scourge ofAfrica, Rashid struggled toward it. Read walked backward,covering their retreat.
The car stopped, whirling blades holding it a few inches off thelawn. They climbed in.
"How did it go?" The driver and another inspector occupied thefront seat.
"They'll be after us in half a minute."
The other inspector carried a light machine gun and a box ofgrenades. "I better cover," he said.
"Thanks," Rashid said.
The inspector slid out of the car and ran to a clump of bushes.The driver pushed in the accelerator. As they swerved toward thesouth, Read saw a dozen armed men run out of the house. A grenadearced from the bushes and the pursuers recoiled from the cloudthat rose before them.
"Is he all right?" the driver asked.
"I don't think I hurt him." Rashid took a syrette from his vestpocket. "Well, Read, it looks like we're in for a fight. In a fewminutes Miaka Station will know we're coming. And God knows whatwill happen at the Game Preserve."
Read wanted to jump out of the car. He could die any mi