Dedicated to The Men of the Secret Services of the United Slates of America
Chapter 1
Hawk stood at the window of his office and watched the morning sky as a bolt of lightning tore through it in zigzag fashion. Then the sky opened up and the heavy rain gushed down, drenching the streets of Washington, D.C. There were more bolts of lightning, swording through the heavens, ripping the sky with a vengeance. The claps of thunder were heavy and deafening.
The sky was alive and crackling, opening up at uneven intervals with the thrusts of the lightning bolts. It looked as though the world had gone mad.
If the end of the world ever came, Hawk thought, it would look something like this.
Hawk stood there, fascinated by the scene. He lost all track of time. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The sky was normal and the sun was trying to come out.
The chief of AXE looked at his watch. Almost half an hour had passed. And Nick Carter was due.
It was ironic, Hawk thought, the way something always came up when Carter was getting too involved with a woman. Now it was a senators daughter. He had seen her picture in the papers too many times to suit him. But she was truly beautiful. Beautiful and spoiled.
In the street below, Nick was getting out of his car. Hawk turned away from the window, walked behind his desk, sat down and waited for his man….
She was young. Nick Carter like that. She was Chinese. Nick liked that, too. She was naked from head to foot. Nick liked that even better.
He was looking at a snapshot.
"Okay," Nick said. "She looks good." With a forefinger he passed the snapshot back across the desk to the man who had tossed it to him a second after he had sat down. "I believe you have a purpose for showing me a naked Chinese girl. Or rather, damn it, a snapshot of her. You're usually not that indulgent unless you have a good reason."
Hawk turned the snapshot over. Not that the sight of a nude girl offended him. But he didn't want to be distracted by anything. His cold eyes surveyed Killmaster, his top agent. "Are you packed?"
Nick grinned without humor. I'm always packed."
"Let's talk about the girl. Her name is Sim Chan and she's twenty-five. Born in the Kirin Province in China. Smart, shrewd, quick — you name it. An opportunist Took up with a top Commie when she was twenty and dumped him later for a general, who was purged by the Red Guard about a year ago. Now she's in Peking, the mistress of Walther Kerner." Hawk stopped and waited for the reaction.
Nick's heart almost skipped a beat. He stiffened slightly. "Kerner. One of Bormann's men."
"Right," Hawk said gruffly. "And where you'll find Kerner you'll find Martin Bormann." He watched Nick light a gold-tipped cigarette. "We also know what Bormann and his crew are working on." This brought an even sharper reaction from Nick. Hawk's leathery face twisted into a grin. "Kerner is a scientist, specializes in drugs. That's a well-known fact. Sim Chan, his mistress, is also a scientist, also specializes in drugs. But that isn't a well-known fact. We had to do a lot of digging to find that one out"
Nick made a shrewd guess. "Sim Chan s job is to spy on Kerner. The Chinese Reds don't trust anyone, even their so-called allies. And the best way for Sim Chan to get close to Kerner is to become his mistress."
"It has to be," Hawk said.
"What else can you tell me?"
"Kerner is working on a drug. It's a synthesis of a list of substances capable of producing a model psychosis."
"Simplify, please," Nick pleaded.
"A synthetic drug," Hawk said. "Kerner is calling it Agent Z. The drug is related to belladonna, a plant extract. Depending on dosage, it causes giddiness to hallucinations. It's a mind-altering drug, and once it's perfected it can do anything, even to changing the thinking and personality of a man. Our own scientists have been trying to perfect such a drug. We've used marijuana and mescaline but had to rule both drugs out because they required very heavy dosages. We're now experimenting with lysergic acid siethylamide, better known as LSD, but haven't received the results hoped for."
Nick looked at the glowing end of his cigarette before killing it in the ashtray. "Agent Z would make a powerful weapon for any country," he said tonelessly.
"Your job is two-fold — stop the experiments, and get Bormann."
Nick had crossed swords with Martin Bormann before and each time the Nazi had eluded him. Nick prayed silently that this would be their last encounter and Bormann would end up dead at his feet.
Hawk asked Nick if he had any questions.
Nick nodded his head. "How did you find all this out?"
The information had come from an AXE agent stationed inside the Imperial Palace in Peking. He had reached his contact before he had been slain. Hawk was sure the contact's cover was still good — but one could never be sure about anything.
"You'll go in as Harry Toombs of the Toronto Wire Service," Hawk added. "A Canadian. You'll also leave your toys behind. Newspapermen don't carry guns and knives."
"Anything else?"
"Yes. You'll stop off at Hong Kong first and see a man named Hans Danzig at the Peninsula Hotel. Hell give you all the dope you'll need on Agent Z."
"Danzig?"
"A scientist."
"Never heard of him " Nick said.
"Very few people have," Hawk said. "That's why he's so valuable to me."
Nick's eyebrows knitted in surprise. "Keeping secrets from me?"
"You're always out in the field," Hawk said softly, "so how can you possibly know everything? Of course, if you'd like a desk job…"
Nick uncoiled slowly, like a cobra coming out of its basket home, getting to his feet. "What does Danzig look like?"
Hawk described the man.
When Nick turned to leave, Hawk said: "One more thing. We've just perfected a drug named Store. It puts a man to sleep for a week without a trace of a heartbeat There's an antidote in case you want your… uh… victim to recover quickly. It may come in handy. Talk to the boys in Editing before you leave."
Nick reached over to flip the snapshot and once again gazed at the naked Sim Chan. "Just wanted to refresh my memory."
"Get the hell out of here," Hawk growled.
* * *
Selina Stanton was a vivacious redhead with a stunning figure who had been a constant source of embarrassment to her senator father. Her wild escapades had gained her much notoriety in the newspapers, but lately she had toned down because her latest lover seemed averse to publicity.
For the first time in her twenty-four years Selina Stanton was in love. Selina had never known anyone like Nick Carter. Nick was handsome and intelligent, and she had fallen head over heels in love with the bronzed giant.
He was a close-mouthed bastard; he never talked about himself or asked about her former boy friends. She didn't know too much about him except that he worked for the government. The fact that he shied away from publicity had made her curb her impulsive, wild nature.
In nile-green lounging pajamas, she walked to the portable bar and built herself a drink.
She had always got what she wanted — but now? She didn't have Nick. She couldn't fool herself. She knew she loved Nick — but he didn't love her. Not really. She knew she meant more to him than just a roll in the hay, but the deep affection he felt for her was definitely not love.
Selina knew that someday there would be a break. It wouldn't be a clean break, either. It would be jagged and rough because she was too emotional to take something like that lightly.
She gulped down part of her drink and her thoughts vanished as the doorbell sounded. She put down her glass and walked slowly to the door, not wanting him to know how eager she was. Selina opened the door and he walked in.
She closed the door and leaned her back against it. "You're late."
He made for the bar and poured rum into a tall, frosted glass. "I'm sorry, Selina." He turned to face her, making his voice contrite. "It couldn't be helped." He offered no other explanation. He watched her come away from the door and saunter toward him. He saw the way her high breasts swayed under the pajama coat and knew she wasn't wearing a bra.
She was close to him now, and her eyes glowed with unconcealed passion. She forgot everything except that he was here, and she wanted him. There was an ache in her loins, and it would go away only after a session with the man in front of her.
She took his glass and put it aside. She moved even closer and her arms snaked around his neck. They kissed, and her eager body was tight against his.
He breathed in the perfume of her warm, pliant body and wanted her very badly. It would be their last fling till he got back — if he got back. Nick knew how she felt about him, which was why he wanted to break away from her, but there was something magnetic about Selina. He knew the affair couldn't last. He would have to find a way to stop their relationship without hurting her. It was going to be difficult. With a wry grin, which she couldn't see, he realized that there was one sure way to end the affair — to get himself killed.
She finally pulled away and took his hand and led the way into the bedroom. She took off her pajamas and climbed into bed and waited impatiently for him.
Nick piled his clothes on a chair and joined her. They kissed and his hands roamed freely over her eager body. He stroked her high, firm breasts and ran one hand down the length of her, over her decorative navel, onto her creamy thighs.
"My breasts," she moaned. "Nick. My breasts."
He bent his head and kissed her.
Her luscious thighs parted and she pulled him down to her, welcoming his hard-muscled body.
The consummation was complete and very satisfying. There was a fine dusting of sweat beads on Selina's forehead when they finished. Gently, Nick rolled away from her.
They lay on their sides, facing each other, Nick's hand on her hip.
Nick knew she was a passionate creature. He wondered if she would practice celibacy while he was gone. Probably not. Even though she loved him, or thought she did, she was realistic and hot-blooded.
She looked good, lying there, her breasts lightly touching his chest. It would be nice if she just stayed that way, naked, waiting for him while he completed his mission. What a joke to inject her with Store, the suspended-animation drug Editing had given him. It would last exactly seven days. But there was no guarantee he'd be back in seven days. There was no guarantee that he would ever be back.
He didn't want to think of the mission. Time enough for that.
"Nick," she murmured.
"What?"
"You love me?"
"As much as I'll ever love any woman."
"You're honest," she said huskily. "I wish you weren't so honest."
He didn't want to kid her along and told her so. Soon ne would be telling her goodbye. But not just yet. There was still time…
He drew her tight against him and she felt his evident excitement.
"So soon?" She was surprised but delighted.
He kissed her hungrily, and soon he was lost in her arms.
Chapter 2
The huge blue-and-silver bird landed at Kai Tak Airport and Nick checked his suitcase in a locker. He fingered the pen in his breast pocket. It was no ordinary pen. In it was Store, the drug that brought on a state of suspended animation, and also the antidote. It was the only weapon Nick had.
A taxi took him to the Peninsula Hotel. Yes, Mr. Danzig was in, the desk clerk said with a cheerful smile. An elevator took Nick up to Hans Danzig's floor.
Hans Danzig was a baldish man of fifty with a horseshoe of white hair. He had on a linen suit which seemed too snug for his stocky body. He invited Nick to sit and asked him if he wanted a drink.
"Nothing for me."
"Just to be sociable." Danzig picked up the phone and asked for room service. He looked at Nick and lifted his eyebrows.
"You talked me into it. I'll have a B and B."
Danzig spoke into the mouthpiece and then hung up. He sat down on a sofa and contemplated Nick with mild, pleasant eyes. "I don't envy you," he remarked.
"What does that mean?" Nick said dryly.
"I can guess your mission."
"Very interesting." Nick leaned back and stretched his legs. "I was ordered to see you. That's all I know."
"And I was ordered to brief you — about Agent Z." Danzig stopped as if waiting for a reaction. There wasn't any. "Exactly what did Hawk tell you about Agent Z?"
"You know, Mr. Danzig, I'm a funny cuss. I hate to talk. All I like to do is listen."
"You mean you're suspicious of me? How amusing." But Hans Danzig didn't look amused. He looked annoyed.
"I'm not suspicious of anyone," Nick said calmly. "It's just that I wasn't told to mention to you any conversations I might have had with anyone. Discretion, Mr. Danzig. You know how it is."
Before Danzig could reply, the boy arrived with the Benedictine and brandy. He tipped the boy and handed a glass to Nick and kept one for himself.
Nick sipped his drink and then asked Danzig exactly who he was.
"Just someone passing through the Orient. A scientist" Danzig tasted his drink. "I can be as closemouthed as you. But we won't get anywhere that way. Well, never mind. You needn't tell me anything. It isn't really necessary."
"Just what is Agent Z?" Nick asked.
"A combination of synthetic drugs that can change a man's whole personality. Can even change his thinking."
"I believe Hawk did mention that," Nick said, loosening up.
"That's a lot to admit to," Danzig mocked the AXE agent "You may get a bad report card if you say any more."
This may be a joke to you, sir, but it isn't to me. You must see the position I'm in. If Hawk had introduced us, or if we had met before, I wouldn't be so cautious. But as it is…"
"I understand." Danzig nodded sympathetically. "I don't envy you, my friend. It's a hard business. What did Kipling call it? The great game, I believe. But it isn't a game, really. Not in the true sense, is it? High stakes, yes. We play for high stakes." He sighed.
Nick wanted to have lunch before he caught his plane. He pointedly looked at his watch.
"All right, my friend, I'll get to the point." Danzig put his glass aside. "Agent Z has a great potential. Imagine, if you will, enemy agents infiltrating a cabinet or a parliament of a government by using Agent Z on the members of the cabinet or parliament. They take over the minds of these officials and make them do what they want. Soon they are in control of the country."
"It's rather frightening," Nick commented. "But the agents would have to get close to these officials."
"You think it can't be done?" Danzig grinned without humor. "Remember how fast Philby was rising before he was found out? A few more years and he might have been head of British Intelligence. When the CIA found out he was closely associated with Burgess and Maclean they refused to have anything more to do with him. What if Philby, or someone like him, had had Agent Z and was under orders to use it?"
Nick saw Danzig's point. In 1949 Philby was the SIS representative in Washington, working in liaison with the FBI and the CIA. SIS was the British Secret Intelligence Service or MI-6. Philby had come in contact with many top officials. With Agent Z in his possession, who knows what damage he could have done.
Nick knew the whole thing sounded fantastic but in his years with AXE he had been involved in many fantastic situations.
Danzig broke into his thoughts. "During the recent elections in Germany there was a surprising number of votes for the neo-Nazis. Martin Bormann may think it's time to take over Germany, with himself as the new Fuehrer. He wouldn't need much of an army if his agents managed to inject the top-ranking German officials with Agent Z. He could even go after the smaller countries in Europe or South America. It's no secret to the CIA and AXE that the Nazis who settled in countries like Argentina are itching to spread their venom through South America. They're getting old, and this may be their last chance."
There was a lot of respect and admiration in Nick's eyes as he looked at Hans Danzig, as if seeing the balding man for the first time. "You re not just an ordinary scientist."
"No scientist is ordinary," the man said without rancor.
"You said Agent Z is injected. Is that the only way it can be used? You can't just slip a few drops into someone's drink?"
"Perhaps sometime in the future that would be possible," Danzig said. "But not now. One day you will put a man under a sunlamp that will scramble his brain cells, and he'll get off the table a different man, an android, ready to do your bidding. But for now, we have Agent Z, a drug that has to be injected into the veins to be effective."
"How close are they to perfecting Agent Z?"
"Very close. Walther Kerner, Bormann's man, is an unusually brilliant scientist We didn't even bother trying to get him over to our side, knowing how devoted he was to Hitler. His loyalty has switched to Bormann." Danzig reached for his neglected drink and finished it. "That's an unusual pen you have there, Mr. Carter."
"Nothing can surprise me at this stage of the game," Nick sighed. "You probably know more about the pen than I do."
"Score is one of my little inventions. I hope you know how to use it."
"It was explained to me." Nick lit a cigarette. "One click injects the drug; two clicks the antidote. It has to be done fast. Always go for the throat."
Danzig got to his feet. "I wish I could tell you exactly where the laboratory is. I can't. But it must be near Peking. It's up to you to find it, destroy it. But you know all that I wish you well, Mr. Carter. Till we meet again."
Nick stood up and they shook hands.
Chapter 3
Nick didn't bother crossing the harbor to Hong Kong. There were many good restaurants on Nathan Road in Kowloon. Kowloon, which was called The City of Nine Dragons, had as many interesting tourist attractions as Hong Kong Island. There was the Yaumati Typhoon Shelter where the boat people lived and the Lauchikok Amusement Park. But Nick didn't have the time. He had his lunch and then went out to hail a cab.
He lit a Canadian cigarette and settled back.
The cab went past the many department stores on Nathan Road. He looked out the window to watch the pretty girls sauntering by in their cheongsams, showing part of their thighs. He liked to look at pretty girls. He hoped he would never reach the stage where a pretty face or figure didn't interest him.
The cab reached its destination.
The plane left Kai Tak Airport and headed for the mainland. Nick saw the naval and merchant ships in the harbor; the family sampans in the bays and coves. The water was a soft blue.
He liked Hong Kong. He hoped he would be back soon for a much longer stay. He thought about Selina for a while and then pushed her out of his mind. There were other things to think about.
He was racing against time. There was an awful urgency about the whole thing. The interview with Hans Danzig convinced him of that.
Agent Z. A mind-altering drug. A subtle weapon. It didn't explode and make noise and bring death and destruction like a stick of dynamite or an atom bomb. But it was more dangerous than anything yet thought of. The idea of taking over a man's mind, making him into a robot, was almost unthinkable. Almost inhuman. Hell, it was inhuman. A devil like Martin Bormann wouldn't think twice about using such a weapon.
Bormann would do anything to bring about the resurgence of Nazi Germany.
Martin Bormann. Or Judas. God knew how many names Bormann had taken for himself since he had disappeared from Germany after Hitler's flaming death. Nick had felt respect and admiration for some of his enemies. But never for Bormann. He only felt a red-hot hatred for the man without hands. No hands. Just claws. Stainless-steel claws. And a face that was no face. Just a thousand scars.
Nick hadn't gotten to the point where he enjoyed killing. He knew others who had. But there would be no qualms about ending Bormann's life. The man had lived too long. Nick wouldn't be killing a man anyway, but a thing, a monster, a menace. He wanted to kill Bormann. He had to. He only hoped he wouldn't enjoy it — really enjoy it. God, he hoped he would never come to feel a sense of joy in taking a man's life. Even that of a monster like Bormann. He would feel nothing, absolutely nothing, when ending Bormann's black life. That was the way he wanted it. To kill the devil cleanly, swiftly, without remorse.
He had never looked forward to killing anyone. It was different now. It was an almost insane desire to rid the world of Bormann.
When he killed it was because he had to. No other way out. He never thought twice about it. It was to save either himself or his mission. He knew that to hesitate, even for a second, could abort a mission. And he would be dead.
Killmaster tried to push everything out of his mind but he couldn't. He was on edge, and that was no good.
He felt naked without Wilhelmina and Hugo. He was used to having them around. All he had was the drug in the pen he carried in his breast pocket, the drug called Store. But he had to get close to the enemy to use it, too damn close.
The plane was over the mainland.
He saw the sloping hills and valleys. There were the rice paddies and the water oxen. There was farm machinery, tractors and such, but not enough to go around.
Production in many of the provinces was at a standstill because of the clashes between the people of Red China. Fighting among themselves, Nick thought. Like little children. They'll never grow up.
He knew that one hundred and sixty persons were killed recently in an armed battle between two Communist groups in Amoy. The feuding groups were the Promotional Alliance and the Revolutionary Alliance. The Promotional Alliance was primarily a worker's group backed by Communist artillery units, while the Revolutionary Alliance was made up mostly of peasants and had the support of Communist infantrymen. Chuanchow, a neighboring city, had rushed fifty truckloads of troops to maintain order.
Nick also knew that anti-Maoist organizations had been very active in the provinces of Kiangsi and Kweichow.
Though the time for revolution was ripe in Red China, Nick felt that Mao Tse-tung would keep the upper hand. He had control of the Red army, and that was the most important thing.
Nick lowered his seat to a reclining position and took a nap. The plane flew on, above the creamy clouds.
* * *
Nick bought a copy of the People's Daily News, tucked it under his arm, and took the bus to Freedom Square. He registered in the Cathay Hotel just off the square. He chose the Cathay because it was one of the more modern hotels that wasn't frequented by the western correspondents. He wasn't looking forward to bumping into employees of the Toronto Wire Service. If any suspicious Chinese officials decided to check him out with Toronto, he would get a clean bill of health; it had already been arranged with the Toronto people at the wire service. But the genuine wire-service boys from Toronto hadn't been notified, for obvious reasons. Might as well advertise as tell anyone of the wire-service boys. Nick wanted to stay clear of them.
The furniture in his room was plain but comfortable. He put away his clothes and slid the suitcase under the bed. He hung up his jacket, kicked his shoes off, and stretched out on the bed to read the Peking newspaper. It seemed that anti-Communist and anti-Mao forces in the southern province of Kwangtung had been using antirevolutionary economism and infiltration into revolutionary committees to alienate relations between the revolutionary masses and members of the committees.
It amazed Nick that the big shots let information like this get to the people. It would seem only natural that they would keep it quiet Did Mao Tse-tung want these different groups to fight among themselves? That's what it seemed like to Nick. It was an old political trick. The different factions were kept weak by fighting among themselves, and Mao Tse-tung stayed on top.
He put away the newspaper and sighed. Well, Hawk had been right. He and the other passengers had been searched after landing at the airport. A grinning Chinese with buck teeth had explained that much gold and silver was being smuggled into China, so it was essential that all visitors be searched. He apologized profusely for the inconvenience.
It was a good thing he had left his weapons behind. He would have been hard put to explain away a stiletto and a Luger.
When it was getting dark he changed to a dark-blue suit and stuffed his pockets with yuan notes that had been given him in exchange for Canadian money. Five fen coins jangled in his pants pocket as he went down to the street. He spied a small restaurant across the street He dined on lamb and rice and drank two cups of hot green tea.
It was dark when he left the restaurant. The moon was a mottled lead color. It hung low over the city.
He lit a Canadian cigarette from his pack, caught a bus, and sat behind a middle-aged couple who discussed the bus strike in Canton.
Nick got off and found himself in a practically deserted part of the city. He walked through winding streets till he came to a small curio shop. He hesitated, looked around, and saw a figure standing in a nearby doorway. It was a girl. She looked at him, then looked away.
Probably a prostitute, he figured. But that didn't make sense. It was a deserted street; business would be bad. He didn't think any more of it and approached the door of the shop. There was a button in the jamb. He knew his contact lived in back of the shop. Nick was about to thumb the button when a sharp crack sounded — a gunshot. And it came from within the store.
He tried the knob and the door opened. As he walked in, another shot was fired.
Chapter 4
Nick hurried through the store toward the back, where he could see a yellowish light seeping through the gaping door. He flung the door open, and a man craned his neck to look at Nick. The man was squatting near the body of a middle-aged Chinese. The man, also a Chinese, was dressed in western-style clothes and held a gun in his right hand. He started to rise, at the same time shifting his gun hand to cover Nick.
Nick dived at the rising figure, and they both toppled over, rolling against an old-fashioned rolltop desk. Nick brought his knee up sharply against the man's groin. There was a cry of pain and outrage. Nick gripped the man's right wrist and twisted it sharply. The gun dropped from paralyzed fingers.
Nick grabbed the gun, rolled the man over, pressed the gun against the man's back, and squeezed off a shot. The bullet shattered the aorta, and Nick got to his feet.
He started for the middle-aged Chinese and stopped, his back as rigid as plaster. A girl had materialized in the doorway — the girl who had been partly hidden in the shadowy doorway outside.
She ignored the gun Nick trained on her and ran to the middle-aged Chinese. She knelt by the man's side and started to weep. If it was an act, it was a good one.
Nick walked to the doorway and peered into the shop. There was no one else in the store. He leaned against the wall, watching the girl.
She finally stood up and faced him. She was young and good-looking. She was wearing a peasant-type pajamalike costume. Nick decided she would have looked good in a cheongsam, the dress that was so tight there had to be slits at both sides to enable the wearer to walk. But the cheongsam was forbidden in Red China because it was an example of bourgeois bad taste.
Nick nodded at the dead man who had been his contact. "You know him?" he asked the girl.
"He… he was my father." Her chin trembled and he was afraid she was going to cry again. "I am a coward. I am so ashamed."
"Why do you brand yourself a coward?"
She twisted her head to stare at the man Nick had killed. "I was outside when I saw Lum Fen enter my father's store. I recognized him. He is a well-known assassin. I couldn't do anything. I was paralyzed with fear. Then you walked by and there were the shots and I knew my father was dead. I almost ran away, but…" She shrugged her slim shoulders.
"You had to find out for sure, is that it?"
She nodded her head slowly.
Nick moved away from the wall, went to where the man he had killed was sprawled and searched his pockets. There were identification cards and a box of cartridges. He slipped the box into his jacket pocket and stood up. There was no sense in searching the man he had come to see, and no sense in going over the small office and living quarters. The man wouldn't have written anything down.
"You're an American, aren't you?" the girl asked.
"Does it matter?" He approached the girl. "Does it really matter? I mean, deep down inside?"
She saw his twisted grin. "You don't believe what I told you?"
"How do I know you re not allied with the man I just killed?"
"Then kill me now," she said defiantly.
"I may just do that. This is a dangerous business."
"I know my father was working for the Americans."
Nick stared at her. "Did he tell you all his secrets?"
She shook her head, no. "My father and I were not… very close. He learned that I — sold my body and he threw me out. Often I came to see him and try to make him understand. I did not like it, our not speaking to each other."
"Do you live far from here?"
"No, not far»
"Let's go to your place and talk."
"Yes. But first-" She went to her father's body, knelt, and took something from his pocket She straightened up and Nick demanded to see what she had. She showed it to him. It was a piece of jade.
Many Chinese carried jade in their pockets for luck. It was a Chinese superstition.
"It was my father's for many years," she said. "He would often put his hand in his pocket just to rub it. See how smooth it is."
"Yes. Now let's get the hell out of here."
They walked through the shop, out the front door. Either no one had heard the shots or people here, like everywhere else, just didn't want to mix in.
Nick put his hand on her shoulder when she wanted to walk faster. "Take your sweet time," he said. "You don't want to attract attention, do you?"
She told him she was called Lotus and she lived alone. Her father had been her only living relative and now he, too, was gone.
Nick only half listened to her. He felt the weight of the gun in his jacket pocket. He felt good, having a weapon. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it on the girl. She was too pretty to kill. He wasn't a hundred percent sure about her. She seemed genuine enough, but —
They reached the house where she lived. A young couple was embracing near the front door. "There is a back way," Lotus informed Nick. They half circled the building and walked through the back door and up one flight of stairs.
It was a nicely furnished apartment with deep inexpensive rugs and water colors on the walls. She quickly rummaged through a chest of drawers and brought out some snapshots and showed them to him. "Here are pictures of my father and me. You will see that I did not lie to you."
"Okay. I'm convinced" He handed the snapshots back.
"Would you like some tea?"
"I'd love some," he said.
While Lotus prepared the tea, Nick examined the pistol he had taken from the assassin who had killed Lotus's father. It was an Astra Firecat.25 caliber with a blue finish and plastic grips. It had four safeties and could be fired only when the grip safety was depressed. It was a Spanish pistol.
"You like guns?" Lotus asked, placing two cups of tea on the low table in front of him.
"It's possible to become very attached to a gun," he said, putting' the weapon aside. "Especially after it's helped you out of some tough spots. And a gun is not like a woman. It talks only when you want it to talk. When you want it to be silent it is silent."
Lotus lifted her cup of tea and sipped. "It cannot keep you warm on a cold night," she reasoned.
"No. But it can make you feel comfortable just knowing it's nearby when you want it You can trust it; you can't trust a woman."
"You never met a woman you trusted?"
He sipped some tea. "I can't say no to that But women are too damn emotional, and even when you feel you've met one you could trust you still have to be on your guard."
"You can trust me."
"Can I?"
"Yes," she said, almost vehemently. "I want to avenge my father. You must give me that chance."
Nick studied her for the first time. She was slender and virginal-looking, with a slim long throat and black black hair that came down to her shoulders and curled inwards at the ends. Her smooth skin was ivory-tinted. Her lips were full and blood-red and her eyes were dark and almond-shaped. Around her neck was a strand of Mikimoto pearls.
Oriental girls look innocent, virginal, and calm, but underneath that veneer is a passionate nature that would put western women to shame.
Nick couldn't help it; he started to think of Lotus in a sexual way, and his senses tingled with desire.
As if she could read his thoughts, Lotus lowered her eyes like a blushing bride and then raised them again. "You want me?" Her voice was low and husky. Her teeth were tiny pearls.
"Yes. Very much."
She was in his lap and her arms snaked around his neck and her mouth was pressed hard against his. His hands found her small, firm breasts under her clothing.
The bed was firm, sturdy, and it didn't creak.
Later, much later, they talked. Lotus was adamant about helping Nick. Fear had paralyzed her, fear had kept her from helping her father. Now she was angry at herself for her disgraceful behavior. She had to redeem herself. Nick had to give her that chance.
Nick tried to explain. "I'd have to take you into my confidence. I can't afford to do that. Too much is at stake. If you're caught you'll be tortured."
"You're afraid I'll talk?"
"Yes," he answered bluntly.
"Are you here because of the Germans?"
Nick sat up, reached for a cigarette and lit it. "You claim your father didn't tell you any of his secrets and yet you know of the Germans. Are you trying to confuse an old man?"
"You are not old." She touched his arm with slender fingers. "Some of the Germans are my customers," she said without embarrassment They are quartered in the Imperial Palace."
That decided it Nick hated to use her, but it was necessary. And she did want to avenge her father. "Do you know exactly where the Germans stay in the Imperial Palace?"
"Yes. In the left wing, which almost circles the courtyard. Each man has his own bedroom."
"Do you know anything of their leader?" Nick asked.
She took the cigarette from him, puffed at it, handed it back. "I have heard of a man who never smiles because his face is frozen. When my German customers talk of him they have respect in their voices, and sometimes fear."
"Do the Germans talk to you a great deal?"
"When they are drunk. They like to drink. They talk of a new Germany, a more powerful Germany."
Nick killed the cigarette. "You really want to help me?" he asked, studying her face.
"Oh, yes."
"I don't have to tell you of the danger involved."
"I will do anything."
He asked her if she could get him into the Imperial Palace. She nodded her head. It would be a very easy matter.
"Tomorrow night," he said. "Can you make me a costume? A black costume? Something that will blend with the night?"
"Yes. I suppose so. But what is the purpose?"
"You spoke of the man who never smiles. The man with the frozen face. I want to kill him. It is as simple as that."
"Is that your mission?"
"One of my missions, Lotus."
"But how do you know where he will be? How will you know which room is his?"
"That's a chance I'll have to take," Nick said. "If I goof up the mission I won't be losing much. The Germans will know something is amiss when they find their Chinese assassin dead. So I may as well go all out and try to kill our friend with the frozen face."
"If you shoot him, you'll wake the others," she pointed out.
"I have a more subtle weapon than a gun," he said, thinking of the drug in his pen, the drug called Store. If he found Bormann he would inject the drug. When the others found Bormann they would think he was dead and either bury him or cremate him.
"Be careful of Stryker," she warned in a tiny voice.
"Stryker?"
"He is called Captain Stryker. He answers only to their leader. He has been with me once. He is brutal He never drinks. He is not human."
"I'll watch my step," Nick promised. "I'll have to be going soon. I'll see you tomorrow night."
"It is almost dawn."
He laughed. "Then I'll see you tonight."
"You can spare a few more minutes," she said boldly, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.
Their bodies met and became one.
A cool breeze came through the half-open window and bathed their naked bodies.
They kissed with the final thrust.
Her fingers ran through his hair, feeling his scalp. "It was very nice," she whispered.
* * *
Lotus stood by the window and giggled. "I can hear them. They are making love, I think."
Nick was dressed. He walked to her side and put an arm around her waist. "Isn't that rude? Listening to other people making love?"
"I don't think they care. The girl confides in me. She is not ashamed to tell me things. Listen carefully. You can hear them."