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PROLOGUE
Patrick Foster, Central Intelligence Agency liaison officer
with the British Secret Intelligence Service, stepped out of
the front doors of the U.S. embassy on Grosvenor Square in
London and sniffed the damp night air. It smelled of auto-
mobile exhaust, of the Thames, and of that something else
that all big cities have in common.
It was nearly ten in the evening, and Foster was tired. It
had been a long day. The Russians were at it again; at least
three new Aeroflot employees, just flown in, were almost
certainly KGB agents.
On top ofall that, Major Carey Harrell, his old friend from
the SIS, had telephoned that Juan Rojas was in town, and
probably up to no gocxl.
Rojas was a name long known to Foster, who before his
I-mdon assignment had been stationed at the consulate in Rio
de Janeiro. Rojas was a fabulously wealthy Brazilian who
owned tens of thousands of acres of farmland and timberland,
two newspapers, an asbestos mine, and a significant portion
of Rio's magnificent waterfront.
As rich as Rojas was, he was equally anti-American. It was
said, but not yet proven, that Rojas had many connections
with Cuba and with Libya. He had been seen on more than
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one occasion meeting with PLO leader Yasir Arafat. And he
was considered persona non grata in a number of countries,
including, of course, Israel.
It was suspected that the tall, handsome, suave, and very
sophisticated Rojas had been involved in a numtxr of
schemes to hun or at least to embarrass the U .S. government.
In all likelihood , a number of his subsidiary companies had
been at work for years in an attempt to manipulate the
American stock market. He had been linked to at least three
major counterfeiting rings. He had been tied to organized
crime as well as to dmg connections between Colombia and
Florida's Gulf Coast.
Whenever Rojas moved, the United States was very in-
terested.
In the back courtyard of the embassy Foster into
his Ford Cortina. then drove around to the front and was let
out the main gate, where he merged smoothly with the Friday
night traffic.
Foster was a short man, thin but wiry, with a terrier's face.
He had been born and raised in Brooklyn, and had been a
tough, streetwise kid. He was no different now. He the
big-city savvy, but it was tempered with the sophistication
that comes with doing a difficult job in a variety of locations.
He lit a cigarette as he drove to his rendezvous with
Harrell. Rojas had apparently entered the country sometime
that morning. His passport had been flagged, and in due
course the information had gotten over to the SIS offices in
Y\fitehall.
The South American had checked into a suite at the Ritz on
Piccadilly. There he had rested, then had had a couple of
drinks at the bar before going out for the evening.
Ie was currently at the Alhambra, London 's poshest pri-
vate gambling establishment. Harrell and another SIS leg-
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man were stationed nearby, watching. They hal telephoned
Foster and invited him along.
"After all, he is your show, even if he's on our turf at the
moment," Harrell had said brightly.
Foster promised he'd be right there, but Harrell had as-
sured him that Rojas probably wouldn 't be moving from the
club until well after two in the morning.
' 'These things often go all night, you know, " the SIS man
had said.
Before Foster had left the embassy, he had pulled out
Rojas's folder, then had called up the computer at Langley
via their real-time satellite link for more information.
The data had still been coming over when he had finally
left. But he had annotated the file as well as the station log
that he was going out with Harrell and an SIS stakeout team to
see what Rojas might be up to.
Cover your ass. At all costs, cover your ass. Don't put
yourself out on a limb no matter how busy or distracted you
might be. It was axiomatic. And he had complied, although
he didn 't think much would come of this.
Rojas probably just breezed into London for a little gam-
bling. When he was done, he 'd be offto another world capital
somewhere, giving some other case officer heartburn.
But in the meantime, he was Foster's headache.
The Alhambra was well out on Road, and it
took Foster forty-five minutes to make it to where his SIS
friend was parked in a Volkswagen minibus, its windows
covered with reflective screens.
He circled the area twice, cruising slowly past the van,
which had been parked half a block from the ornate front
entrance to the exclusive club.
A constant stream of luxury automobiles came and went,
pausing a moment at the front doors of the club to either take
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NICK CARTER
on or discharge their beautifully dressed passengers. Rolls-
Royces, big Mercedeses, Bentleys, and Jaguars gleamed
under the streetlights.
Foster finally pulled up behind the VW and killed his
lights. He sat there for ±æveral seconds, the motor softly
ticking over, until he shut off the ignition and climtEd out.
Harrell got.out the back door of the van and carne over to
Foster.
"Patrick—so glad you could join us for this little party , '
he said. They shook hands, nmey could just see the Alham-
bra's entrance from where they stood hidden by the van.
"Anything interesting happening?"
Harrll shook his head. ' 'Nothing yet. But I didn't expect
anything much different. " He glanced again toward the club.
'We tracked him from the Ritz around eight, as I told you on
the phone. He's been inside ever since. "
' 'No back dcx)rs?"
"Two. I've got a man on each. "
A Mercedes rolled slowly by, its powerful headlights
illuminating them as if they were onstage under spotlights.
neil it slid past and pulled up to the front of the club.
"Inside," Harrell said.
He and Foster climbed into the van. A third man, in shirt
sleeves, was hunched over a set of very r)werful-looking
binoculars trained out the windshield toward the front en-
trance.
"Pat Foster, this is Lieutenant Hoyd Chamberlain. "
Chamberlain looked up from the binoculars and nodded.
He and Foster shook hands, and the Englishman moved
aside.
"Care for a look-see, sir?"
"Sure," Foster said.
Ihrough the windshield, without the binoculars, the club
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entrance was just a well-lit blur. Foster could see people and






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entrance was just a well-lit blur. Foster could see people and
movement, but not in any detail.
He hunched down the binoculars and lcx)ked
through the lenses. The entrance to the building up at
him in startling detail and clarity. He could see that the
screws holding the license plate into its holder on the back of
the Mercedes were of the normal, slotted And he could
see that the man was wearing formal pumps, one of the bows
bent over.
"Nice, " he said, and he whistled.
"Rather, Qiamberlain agreed.
Foster looked up. "He went in, but he hasn't come out?"
"Just so, sir," CharntMlain said. He reached over and
flipped on a radio. "One," he said softly.
' 'Negative. "
' 'Two?" Chamberlain said into the microphone.
nere was no resm)nse.
Harrell, who had been staring out the windshield toward
the club, looked back.
'*Two?" Chamberlain repeated.
Still there was no answer.
Chamberlain looked up at Harrell, who grabbed the mi-
crophone. ' 'One," he said.
' 'Nothing out of two. Pop 'round and check. "
"Right-o. "
"Probably just equipment trouble, sir, " Chamberlain
said.
Foster lit a cigarette after first offering the pack. Both of
the other men declined.
Several cars slid up to the club to let off passengers, and
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still there was nothing. Harrll keyed mike again.
S 'One," he said.
There was nothing.
e One. • • he •qid a little more or t»o-...-
come in, please. s'
hell. " Qumtx•rlain muttered after a mynent. He
climbed forward ami got tk*hind wheel oi van. In
seconds he had the engine started and tlry were rxing
block. amund corner. and finally around seco{id
corner. t*hind the club.
• •lhere. Harrell said softly. touud a Vumhall
parked half up on curb. Harrell his gun out as
Qumtx»riain drove past. lhere wer two men in front seat
of car.
Foster didn't like this at all. Something big going
d0%T1. He palled out his .38 Police as Qumtk•riain
stcxxi on tre brakes.
All three of them out of the van arri reing bxk to tt•r
small cars •hen ear 0Bned arui men
jumped out.
Harrell called.
late Foster realized what hapß•ning. ami he
had achanee to raise his weal»n. "Aw. shit
said
tX)th men from the little car drom•ed into clÄ-sic
stance and 0B*ned fir. He never felt a thing. last thing
was aware of was Harrell and Chamtx•riain *Qing on
either side of him. sprayng every* here.










ONE
Nick Carter was not overly tall, perhaps a little over six
feet. He was very well built and seemed athletic in a rugged
sort of way. He was slightly graying at the temples, and had
craggy features and deep, silent dark eyes that at times could
very hard. But there was a bit of humanity in the lines
around the comers of his mouth and eyes. His was the face
that had seen a lot and would probably see more.
He was a professional and very good at his job, which lent
him an air of confidence that was unmistakable to even the
most casual observer.
It was early on a Saturday morning, before eight, when he
emerged from his Arlington condo, got into his gunmetal
gray E-type Jaguar, and headed across the Potomac toward
Dupont Circle.
It was early fall, and Washington, D.C., was in full ses-
Sion after the summer recess. nere had been a cocktail party
at the Salvuioran embassy on California Avenue the night
before, one of several Carter had attended in the last couple of
weeks as per a State Department request. Carter, along with a
numtxr of Central Intelligence Agency spooks and a few
knowledgeable old hands from the FBI, had asked to
cover the rounds of parties as the season got into full
swing.
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NICK CARTER
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Dimitri Romanov, the KGB rezident here in Washington,
was up to something. It was a sort of all-hands alert—at least
for the moment.
Caner, who worked for AXE, the most surrrsecret intelli-
gence agency in the free world, had been languishing at
headquarters on Circle for want of an assignment for
six months. Even the embassy 'binge-and-barfcircuit, " as it
was so picturesquely called, was better than nothing. Except
that it raised hell with his physical conditioning regimen.
Carter was a case officer, a field man. One of the best AXE
had ever seen. For some years he had been a member of an
elite group of men with a license to kill in the course of
carrying out their assignments. His designation was N3. A
Killmaster. And he was good. Very good.
He tumed on the radio and lit one of his very strong,
custom-blended cigarettes as he drove.
The Jaguar was his latest acquisition. He had flown out to
California six weeks earlier to purchase the vehicle, and he
had driven it back from L.A. nonstop in a little over forty-
eight hours. It wasn't something he had to do, nor was fast
driving a compulsion with him. AXE 's doctors called him a
"hard-charger" for want of a better description. He was a
man with a very high degree of survival instinct and with a
very low tolerance for boredom. A very dangerous combina-
tion.
He punched the Jag into second gear and stood on the
accelerator, the RPM needle winding out around six grand,
then slipped it into third, the car shooting around the long
curve toward P Street.
An hour and a half ago, he had been awakened out of a
fitful sleep by the telephone. It was David Hawk himself. The
sun had just come up, and the top-floor apartment was bathed
in a golden glow.
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' 'Nicholas?" Hawk's
voice came over the line.
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' 'Nicholas?" Hawk's gruff voice came over the line.
Carter was instantly awake. There were very few men that
Carter totally resrrctd David Hawk, AXE's hard-bitten
chief, was at the top of that very short list. Over the years,
Carter and the ex-OSS man had developu:i a very close
relationship; it was almost that of father and son, minus most
of the outward trappings of affection.
ney were two men who had each other's measure. Each
resrcted the other. One was a professional; the other, older
and wiser, was a professional's professional.
' 'Gocxi morning, sir, 9' Caner said. He looked over at the
clcrk radio as the pretty Salvadoran stirred in sleep. The
sheet had slipped off her shoulder, exposing her left breast.
Her skin was soft and tawny, the areola and nipple of her
breast a dark brown, almost black.
"How are you feeling?"
' WThis moming, sir, or in general?" Carter asked, sud-
denly very alert. Hawk only a conversation like that
when he wanted to propose a particularly tough assignment.
"Both. "
' 'Fit, sir. Very fit. "
"We'll see."
'Sir?
eight. The others are on
"I want you over here by .
their way. "
The others would be there. The entire team. Armorer.
Backgrounds. Archives. Coordination. It was an assign-
ment.
'I can be there in half an hour, sir—" Caner started to say,
but Hawk cut him off.
"Er, I believe you have an obligation to take care of
first. . -s"
Carter down at the girl. Her name was Maria Ines.
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NICK CARTER
He remembered it from the name tag she wore on her very




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He remembered it from the name tag she wore on her very
low-cut cocktail dress. It was off the shoulder and a vivid
pink.
"Yes, sir," he said. The girl was now awake. She was
looking up at him with very large, dark brown eyes.
"Eight o'clock will be sufficient. I don't want any suspi-
cions centered around you just at this moment. "
' 'Is that an order, sir?" Carter asked delicately.
For a moment there was silence on the line, then Hawk
laughedout loud. "An order, " he managed. "Yes, Nick, I'll
see you at eight. "
"Yes, sir." Carter said, and he hung up the telephone.
Maria Ines was smiling.
"You have to attend to something this moming?" she
asked innocently. Almost certainly she was with her gov-
ernment's small but reasonably effective military intelli-
gence service.
Carter nodded. S That was my boss with my orders. "
' 'Yes?" the girl said, her eyes shining.
'He knows you're here. "
She said nothing. But a wary expression had crept into her
eyes.
"He told me that no matter what happened this morning, I
was to attend to you. "
"What does that mean?"
Slowly Carter pulled the sheet back, revealing her other
lovely breast, her slightly rounded stomach, the very dark
tuft of pubic hair, and her long, beautifully formed legs.
"What do you think it means?" Carter asked seriously.
don't know," the girl replied. She was somewhat
uneasy.
"lhere were a number of old scars on Carter's body. At
least three of them were obviously gunshot wounds. Inevita-
bly when he made love with a woman for the first time she
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was drawn to the scars, fascinated by what they meant. But
very few came out and asked him about them. But they did
color his relationships. It was no different now with Maria
Ines. She was at once fascinated and frightened by Caner,
esp3cially since he was now being so mysteri-
ouse
He reached out and caressed the nipples of her breasts with
his fingertips, then trailed upward to her long, slender neck,
where he lingered for a moment.
She licked her lips, her mouth half partd It was obvious
she wanted to be excited, but she was nervous.
' 'You seem to frightened of something, " Carter said.
She touched his cheek with her long fingemails. "Who are
you?" she asked softly. 'SWhy were you at the party last
night? Who invited you?"
Carter smiled, not unkindly. "lf I told you the State
Department, would you believe me?"
She shrugged, her right leg coming up. Her nipples were
erect. Carter could feel himself resm)nding. "I might. But it
still doesn't answer my question. "
"I was sent to seduce you, " Carter said.
' 'Really? ' ' she said. She was frightened again, but she was
tying to hide it. She seemed at that moment like a doe in the
deep forest who had never seen a man before but somehow
knew this one was very dangerous.
Carter leaned forward and kissed her breasts, circling the
nipples with his tongue. She arched her back, a slight groan
of pleasure escaping from her sensuous lips.
He raised his head and looked into her eyes. "My boss
thinks you are here to spy on us. "
'What do you think? ' " she asked. She was already starling
to breathe hard. Last night she had Imn a tigress, proving
there was something to the Latin-lover myth after all. And it
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applied equally well to women. . . .
It was his turn to shrug. He bent down again, this time
trailing his tongue from the nipples of her breasts downward
to her stomach and her navel.
"Madre," she breathed. "You did not answer me. "
Again Carter lifted himself up so that he could at her.
Her lips were moist; her breasts rose and fell. She was
beginning to pant.
"l don't give a damn if you are or you aren't. You didn't
get anything from me, tpcause I don 't have anything worth
telling. "
' 'What about your report?"
He caressed the tops of her legs, then the insides of her
thighs as she automatically up for him. * eemere will
be no report. What would I say—that we made love?"
She laughed deep in her throat, but that changed to a deep,
primal moan of pleasure as Carter bent down, his head
between her legs, his hands on the taut rounds of her but-
t(Xks, and he parted her soft folds with his tongue.
Soon she was moving almost uncontrollably, pressing his
head to her with her hands, and then her back was arched
high, her heels dug into the mattress, and she stifled a long,
low scream that slowly subsided, her body in such fine tune
now that the slightest movement from Carter caused her to
jerk as if she were shot with a gun.
When he finally pulled himself away and looked down at
her, her eyes were wild, her lips parted.
She pushed him over onto his back, and she was on him,
taking him into her mouth, while her fingers caressed every
part of his body that she could reach.
Carter smiled as he braked to a halt at P Street, then turned
right and drove the last few blocks to Dupont Circle. He had
had the devil 's own time getting rid of her in time to take a
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quick shower, jump into a pullover sweater, slacks, and a
pair of soft, slip-on txx»ts, and getting out of there himself.
When she got back to her embassy she would very
embarrassed to find out that Caner had discovered the tiny
recorder in her purse and had erased everything. She
would be hard pressed to explain what she had done with her
night. In any event, Carter figured she wouldn't last t(X) long
- in her present job. Using sex to gain an intelligence goal was
as old a technique as the very act of spying. But the technique
did not work if the agent was so passionate she forgot what
she was supposed to doing. Maria Ines was such a woman.
Shehad alot of sensuality. . . too much forthejobshewas
trying to do.
AXE was housed in the Amalgamated Press and Wire
Services Building on Durx»nt Circle. As far as intelligence
agencies the world over went, it was fairly small. It did have
offices---under the guise of the wire service—in many
foreign cities, but its budget was nowhere near the CIA 's or
the KGB's. But AXE was highly effective. ne dirtiest,
messiest situations were grist for Hawk 's mill. A job the CIA
or the National Security Agency would not or could not do,
AXE took on.
For Nick Carter to called in, something like that was
apparently brewing.
His identification was checked at the entrance to the sub-
basement garage, and he parked his car in his private slot,
then went up in the elevator to his little office in Operations.
Only the weekend OD and his two runners were on duty
in Operations as Caner crossed the long, fluorescent-lit
room, flipped on the lights to his office, checked his recorder
for incoming messages, and lit another cigarette.
There was nothing of consequence on the machine: a
couple of bitches from housekeeping about his misuse of the
AXE safe house in Athens—but that complaint was nearly a
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year old—and one question about some expense account item
of eight months ago.
Back out in the Operations room, the OD looked up. ' 'Mr.
Hawk would like you to go right up, sir. "
S Thanks , ' ' Caner said, crossing to the back and taking the
restricted access elevator up to Hawk 's office. He had to sign
in with security before he was allowed through the heavy
steel doors into the main corridor.
Hawk 's secretary, Ginger Bateman, was not there, but the
inner door was open. Spasso Kerchefski, AXE's eccentric
but brilliant armorer, came to the door. "He's here. Come in,
Carter. We're waiting. "
David Hawk, a short, tough-looking, craggy-faced man
with a thick shock of white hair and the inevitable cheap cigar
clenched in his teeth, sat behind his littered desk. His jacket
was off, his tie loose, his shirt sleeves rolled up. He had
almost certainly been there most of the night if not all of it,
Carter thought.
Hawk looked up. "I trust you took care of everything with
the girl, N3?"
s 'Yes, sir, s' Carter said. Kerchefski was the only member
of the AXE team there with Hawk.
"That will be all, Mr. Kerchefski, " Hawk said.
' 'Shall I remain on call?"
"Yes. We may need you a little later this moming. "
'Of course, " the bushy-eyebrowed armorer said, and he
left, quietly closing the office door behind him. A green light
came on over the door. indicating that the room 's automatic
debugging and sweeping devices had discovered nothing. In
the parlance, they were "clean. "
' 'Have a seat, Nick, " Hawk said. "No complications this
morning?
"None, sir. I'll dictate a "
Hawk nodded. He relit his cigar, apparently giving himself
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time to think out just how he was going to put whatever it was
he to say to Carter.
Carter knew his boss well enough to understand this ges-
ture as well. When Hawk stalled for even a second of time,
something very unusual and difficult was in the offing. Caner
a deep breath , forcing himself to calm down. He wanted
out of the humdrum routine of Washington in the worst way.
"Does the narne Juan Rojas mean anything to you?"
Hawk sitting back.
Carter searched his memory, but the name meant nothing
to him. "No, sir. Afraid not."
"He's not exactly a household word in this country, al-
though in Brazil and a few other places he's either a saint or
the devil, depending who you talk to. "
"I see."
Hawk opened a thick file folder, pulled out a few glossy
eight-by-tens, and handed them across. "Rojas, " he said.
The first showed a man dressed in a tuxedo in a group of
men and women about to get into some kind of a luxury bus.
He was tall, well built, and good-looking in a dark, Latin
way. *Ihe second showed a man in swimming trunks beside a
pool. 'lhere were a half-dozen other men, and at least a dozen
women, at poolside; all the women were all of
them nude. The third showed Rojas from an overhead cam-
era. He was seated at a baccarat table in some casino. He had
a seven and a king, and had apparently just drawn another
card. It was a two, making a perfect nine.
Caner up.
"The first is outside his office in Rio de Janeiro. The
second was taken at his home outside the city, and the
third—Monte Carlo. "
"He is a very lucky man at gambling, " Carter said.
' 'Rojas is very lucky at everything he does, N3. But he has
a lot of help with his luck, if you get my meaning. "
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g 'Does he cheat at cards?"
Hawk smiled. "Wouldn •t we all if we could get away with
it?" he asked rhetorically. s The man was fabulously wealthy
by any standard. His fortune was estimated, four years ago,
at somewhere in the neightx»rhood of five hundred million
dollars. "
e 'Was wealthy, sir?"
'From what we can gather. Senhor Rojas has been having
some tmuble lately. One of his mines suffered a series of
disasters—that was in His newspapers were
süuck. Terrorists have blown up his television studios, and
the world money market has not been kind to his investments
in the last quarter."
"Have we had anything to do with any of that. sir?"
"AXE hasn 't. At least directly. *Ihe CIA has a few TEOPle
in Geneva, and the Israelis seem to have managed some of the
messier operations. "
"Why are they picking on this guy?"
"He's a friend of Arafat and of Colonel Kaddafi. The
Israelis have even contemplated assassination or kidnapping,
but they were talked out of it. "
Now Hawk was getting to it. Carter guessed.
Hawk 0fkned the file folder and consulted a couple of
documents. "You'll get this file this morning, and you'll
have plenty of time to it over. To make a long story
short, Rojas has been conclusively linked with Soviet intelli-
gence. From what we understand, he's promised the Rus-
sians he could deliver the Caribbean basin to them on a silver
platter. He's been helped in certain areas during the last few
years, but now, ever since Grenada, things have changed.
The documents we found there were damned embarrassing to
the Cubans as well as to the Russians.
"You think the Russians are calling in their chit?' • Carter
asked ,
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' That's exactly what we thought a couple of months
ago, ' ' Hawk said. glancing again at some of the pages in the
file. He closed the cover and handed the bulky folder across
to Carter. "You can pull up the Company's info on the
computer after we •re done here. ' ' Hawk looked at his watch.
'*You have a few hours yet txfore your London plane
leaves. "
*London?"
"Yes. I haven't bringing you up-to-date yet, 't
"No, sir. "
*Rojas is planning something; we're fairly certain of it. A
KGB agent has met with him on three occasions that we know
of. lhe pressure is on. Deliver or else. "
S 'What can he do? I mean with his fortune either mostly
gone or dried up, what's left for him?"
' *Don't underestimate this man, Nick. He may no longer
have control of a half billion in cash, but the and
influence the man wields is enormous. "
"l don't understand. "
's not exactly destitute—at least not yet. No hotel in
the world would turn him away. His credit is good in any
room of any casino in the world. "
'That's all well and gocxj, sir, but—
me man has the power to make waves , very large waves.
If he decided to publicly announce that he was going to buy
Anaconda Copper, there'd be a rush on the stock, which
would, of course, immediately go up. "
"But just temporarily, until it was discovered he had
nothing with which to back his announcement. "
Miat doesn 't matter. By then the harm would be done. "
"Hess planning something for the Caribbean? A revolu-
tion? Something coordinated with Castro, no doubt. Perhaps
even through drug connections . . . I assume he's been into
that?
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Hawk nodded. ' 'The President's war on drugs in norida
was mostly aimed at Rojas's operations.
"And were we effective?"
' 'Very."
' 'Why are we still worried about Rojas 's adventures in the
area?"
' 'Until last night," Hawk said, "we had t*gun to think
that Rojas was dormant. We now think our previous
tions were wrong.
It was like a The focus was becoming finer by
the second.
"A Company man by the name of Patrick Foster, trade
mission with our embassy in London, along with four SIS
men—among them, Carey Harrell—was on a routine surveil-
lance last night of Rojas, who had entered the country that
morning. They traced him to a suite at the Ritz, and later that
evening the man went gambling at some fancy club outside of
the city."
Something was coming. Caner could feel it.
"While Rojas was in the club, Foster, Harrell, and the
three others were gunned down in the street. "
"Who did it?"
Hawk smiled wanly and shook his head. "It was made to
apB%ir that two of the SIS men had been tumed, and shot it
out with Foster, Harrell , and another fellow narned Chamber-
lain. "
"And Chamberlain or one of the others, before he died,
just managed to kill the other two. "
Hawk nodded. "Rojas is up to something. We want to
know what. And we want to stop it, of course. "
"Why us, sir? I would have thought this would be a hot
item for the Company. One of their own dead and all. "
"The DCI called me personally last night," Hawk said.
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19



19
' 'He thinks this is going to a particularly . . . unique
job."
Hawk sat forward. His cigar had gone out. "Rojas nms in
some fairly exclusive circles. In order to find out what he 's up
to, in order for us to effectively find out why Foster and the
others were killed, we going to have to put someone in the
midst of Rojas's world. Someone who can handle himself
aboard a yacht or in a drawing room. Someone who knows
how to dress . . . who knows how to handle himself with
spoiled, pampered, beautiful women. Someone who can
gamble. In short, we need a playboy
. or someone who
can pass as a playtxy yet is deadly enough to handle him-
self. "
Carter held himself very erect but said nothing.
s 'The CIA has no one. •me SIS might, but they have other
troubles. The DCI asked me. You 're the man, Nick. You fill
the bill Æxrfectly. "









TWO
The SIFsonic British Airways Concorde, its futuristic
nose drrxving like some stylized bird of prey's, came in
gracefully for a landing at Heathrow Airport. Nick Carter
was processed through VIP customs, and literally
within minutes of the moment the big plane had touched
down, he was climbing into the back seat of a Rolls-Royce
Corniche convertible—with the top up, of course—and was
being whisked into London.
A uniformed chauffeur drove, the smoked glass partition
berween the front and back up, and a secretary in a bowler hat
sat in the back with Carter.
The car, the driver, and the secretary were all from
César Ritz's pile on Piccadilly. From the moment he had
anived at the airport, stateside, Carter had been on his own.
Hawk had assured him that they'd have the complete
ccx)peration of the SIS, at least initially. There were a lot of
hard feelings around Whitehall about the fledgling operation ,
but no one had actually stated his disapproval. Work fast as
long as it was on British soil. If Carter failed, or if the
situation seemed to be getting out of the ultimate control of
the SIS—such as if Rojas suddenly made a dash for one of the
22
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NICK CARTER
Warsaw Pact countries—-then they'd move quickly, agree-
ment or no agreement.
The CIA, of course, had called for AXE's help. They
would not interfere.
Most of Carter's wardrot:r for this caper had come out of
his own closet, although there were a few items from New
Bond Street and Savile Row waiting for him in his suite at the
Ritz. And Cartier in New York had provided a few acces-
sories, not the least of which was a solid gold cigarette lighter
and an ultrathin, hand-harnmered gold Vacheron & Constan-
tin dress watch with a band of black water buffalo hide.
AXE's funding section had provided him with a couple of
hundred thousand pounds cash, along with a letter of credit
on Citicorp for twice that. In his Mark Cross wallet was a
gold American Express card, a platinum Diners Club card,
and a totally unlimited Cane Blanche card. In addition,
memberships at all the clubs had been secured for him.
It seems that Carter's father----of the Carters of Long
Island--—and two extremely wealthy uncles had all died
within the past few years. All three had left their entire estates
to Nicholas Carter, who, it was said in certain circles, was
supposed to be an absolute marvel at three distinct but related
endeavors: playing the American stock market, gambling,
and making love.
He wasn 't a fighter, but to be blessed with three out of four
wasn't bad.
All that was on the plus side. There were some minuses, of
course.
AXE's latest intelligence indicated that Rojas had what
amounted to practically his own army with him wherever he
traveled, If a man could be said to be as impregnable as a
fortress, that was Juan Rojas.
Besides his muscle, Rojas was, in the words of AXE
Archives, "gun-shy to the limit. "
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23



23
After all, the man had lost a major fortune in the last few
years. He was battered. Hc wasn't going to allow many
people to get close enough to hurt him.
Yet that view was hardly consistent with Rojas 's gambling
in London. That was one of the most foolhardy of all risks.
And Rojas, if anything, was certainly not a foolhardy man.
Also on the negative side was the fact that Rojas's people
killed a CIA agent and two SIS officers. All professionals.
All good men. He was not afraid of overt action. If and when
it suited him, he would murder.
The hotel secretary who had been sent out to Heathrow to
fetch Carter was a tight-lipped elderly man who had seen
kings and queens and billionaires come and go. He was not
particularly impressed now, nor was he interested in carrying
on a conversation. Had the man the ordinary, garden-
variety hotel employee anywhere else, Carter would have
been able, for a fee, to pump the man about the comings and
goings of Rojas. Such a suggestion would tE unthinkable to
this sort, however.
At the hotel, which was near Buckingham Palace, the
Royal Academy , St. James 's, and almost everything else that
was historical or famous in London, Carter made a great
show of moving up the grand staircase and crossing the lobby
to register.
His ten suitcases carne after him, and he followed them up
the gold elevator to his suite on one of the top floors overlook-
ing Green Park, St. James's Park, and beyond, the Thames.
"Ihe assistant manager and four bellmen, including the bell
captain, opened up the room, poured the champagne, un-
packed Carter's bags, hung up his clothing. and arranged his
cash and credit needs.
When they were finished, Carter passed three hundred
pounds to the bell captain to distribute. He had taken the man
aside after the assistant manager had left.
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NICK CARTER
"Pop back up here in the next half hour, like a gocxi man, "
Carter said.
'Ihe bell captain, a wily, streetwise man ak»ut Caner's
age, gnnned, showing his teeth. ' 'You'd interested in a
little companionship, sir?" he asked.
"Information, " Carter replied.
The man compressed his lips.
' 'Well-paid-for information. '9
The bell captain grinned again, and nodded. 'Of course,
sir. The Ritz is here to serve. " He clicked his heels, turned,
and breezed out, closing the dcx)rs quietly tEhind him.
Carter waited a minute or so, then he went to the doors and
threw them orrn. The wide comdor was empty. He closed
the doors, locked them, and went back inside.
Since the advent of airport security measures. even in VIP
processing, Carter had tven carrying his weaB)ns in a large
radio/cassette recorder that Kerchefski had built for him.
On the bed. he pulled the big radio out of its case, set the
controls so that the back would open, then eased out
the top circuit board.
Fint out was Wilhelmina, his 9mm Luger, two spare clips
of ammunition, and the stubby silencer. He worked the
ejector slide several times, loaded the automatic, and levered
a round into the charntrr. He checked the safety, then laid the
weapon aside.
Next came Hugo, his pencil-thin, razor-sharp stiletto with
its very plain, haft. The weaFx)n was silent,
deadly and had gotten him out of more impossible situations
than he cared to think about.
Finally came Pierre, a tiny, egg-shaped capsule filled with
a deadly and exceedingly fast-acting nerve gas. This, the
most sophisticated piece in his arsenal, fit into a pouch high
on his inner thigh, very much like a third testicles
He made sure the doors to his suite were locked from the
DEATH HAND PLAY
25



25
26
inside trfore he stripped and into the shower, the
needle-sharp spray as hot as he could B)ssibly stand it at first.
Later he tumed off the hot water and steeled himself to
remain under an icy blast for a full two minutes.
Afterward , when he had dried himself, he padded back out
to his sitting room, put some music on the stereo, poured
himself a stiff cognac, and went back into his bedroom. He
dressaj slowly, strapping his weapons on with care.
Carter was a different sort of person on assignment than
when relaxing on vacation or at home. On a job he was almost
like an actor, the consummate actor whose audiences had the
power of life or death over his
Everything he did out in the field was done with care and
with the skill he had on hundreds of assignments over
the years.
He stopped for a moment to inspect himself in the full-
length mirrors on the closet doors. Every assignment brought
its own each its own dangers. Carter had de-
a sixth sense about such things. At this moment
something was telling him to be very carful of Rojas, very
careful indeed,
He tumed away, sipping his cognac. Rojas was nothing
more than a man, once very rich and still very pwerful. But
there was more. Caner could feel it in the air like some
B)werful scent.
Back at the mirror he put down his snifter, finished tying
his black tie, and then he slipped into his tuxedo jacket,
adjusting his shoulder holster so that the bulge of his Luger
could not be detected—at least not by a nonprofessional.
Caner had just walked back out to his sitting room when
the bell captain amved. He let the man in.
' 'Gocxi evening, sir. You're looking grand now .
' Vlhank you, my man, " Carter said, smiling. He pulled
out his wallet and withdrew a stack of hundred-pound notes.
NICK CARTER




26
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NICK CARTER
'Okay, sir, " the Fell captain said, the obsequiousness
gone from his voice, "what is it you want to know?"
"Senhor Juan Rojas. "
The captain stiffened, but then he smiled. 'Ofcourse.
sir. What can I tell you?"
Bingo, Caner thought, He had struck a nerve, The man
was most likely already on Rojas's payroll. It was interesting
to know that Rojas was himself womed his safety here.
"How long has he tren here in the hotel?"
"Do you mean tonight. sir?"
Carter shook his head.
S •Yfhen did he amve? Two days ago, sir.
' •»vtlere is he at this moment?"
"Downstairs, I t*lieve. in the casino. '4
"Does he gamble here?"
"Yes, sir. But not very much. Mostly he dcrs his gam-
bling. from what these ears hear, out at the
. The bell
captain paused as if he had had a lapse of memory. Carter
passed him a hundred-pound note. "Oh, yes—it comes to me
now. He does most of his gambling out at the Alhambra.
"Where's that?"
The bell captain explained how to get to the place. "Any
cabby will know where it is. though.
"Has he been winning?"
"That I couldn't say, sir. "
Carter held out another hundred-pound note.
"Sorry. sir. but that one I really can't answer. "
Carter nodded and handed him the note anyway. "Is he
here alone?"
"Oh, no. sir. Mr. Rojas has quite a contingent with him.
Quite a contingent.
"Some of them. A lot of bruisers, if you catch my drift.
Muscle, you know. "
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+ 110%
DEATH HAND PLAY
"l see," Carter mused thoughtfully.
27
"Begging your pardon, sir, but I was just wondering
who . . e"
Carter tumed away as if he were distractd He poured
himself another cognac. "Yes?" he said.
"It's not often we get guests who ask about other guests. I
mean. . . "
Carter waved him off. ' Oh, it's nothing illegal, I assure
you. I'm here in London for a little action, that's all. I've
heard of Rojas. Heard he was quite the gambling man. " He
grinned. • 'I intend challenging the fellow. Heard he's well-
heeled. "
' Vlhat he is, sir. Ihat he is indeed. But if you don't mind
me saying so, I'd be watching my step if I were you. His
muscle doesn 't take kindly to anyone prying into Mr. Rojas 's
private affairs. "
'Of course, " Carter said. ' 'I think I •II just down and
pay my "
"Up, sir. He's in the penthouse. "
"Yes, I'm sure he is. But I thought you said he was in the
casino at the moment. "
*Oh, yes—indeed he is, sir, ' ' the bell captain said. He had
pocketed the money. He saluted, turned on his heel, and left.
When he was gone, Carter tossed back his cognac, put the
glass aside, then made sure his tie was straight he
pocketed his room key and left.
It was interesting but not surprising that Rojas was here
with muscle and that he was surveying his surroundings. But
why was he gambling at the Alhambra and apparently no
where else? And why, Carter wondered, was he in Inndon
gambling at all? It didn 't make a lot of sense for a man in his
position, a man with a huge IOU due the Soviets.
Carter took the elevator down to the hotel lobby, where he
crossed over to the entrance to the casino. He showed his
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NICK CARTER
membership card at the door.
It was barely eight o'clock, the dinner hour, so for the most
part the tables were practically empty. baccarat table had
not yet orrned. The velvet was still strung across the
in the railing, arui the chairs were pushed up to the
long table.
He angled left, walking down the two stairs and across to
the bar, where he ordered cognac. He turned around and
looked over the club, his back against the bar.
There were the usual few elderly ladies at the roulette
wheels, and several American tourists at one of the
blackjack tables. A couple of British naval officers were
gambling at the craps table, and around the comer from the
bar, a half-dozen men and three women, all dressed in eve-
ning clothes, were seated at a round table talking and laugh-
ing.
Carter almost missed him, his eyes sliding past, but then he
casually looked that way again just as Juan Rojas raised a
hand for the waitress. There was no mistaking the man.
Caner stared at him. willing him to tum to the left. And
Rojas did, his eyes locking with Carter's. He nodded. Carter
raised his snifter in salute, then turned back to the bar and lit a
cigarette.
He took his time finishing his cognac, and when he was
done, he turned the opposite way from where Rojas was
seated with his friends and started toward one of the gaming
tables.
Halfway across the floor, a short, very stocky man dres
in a well-tailored tuxedo approached him. "Mr. Carter? " he
inquired politely.
Carter stopped and looked at the man for a long moment.
'Who would like to know? ' he said in a low voice, but it ha
a harsh, menacing edge to it.
The other man bridled. But he held himself in check
DEATH HAND PLAY
29



29
' 'Senhor Juan Rojas—-the man you saluted at the table back
there—would like to buy you a drink, sir," the man
explained in Portuguese-accented English.
' 'Rojas?" Carter asked, lcx)king past the little man back
toward the table. Everyone there, including Rojas, was
ing his way. Rojas nodded again.
"Ah, that gentleman," Carter said. "But of course. "
"You are Mr. Caner the stocky man started, but
Carter brushed past him and over toward Rojas 's
table.
Rojas and the other men all stood as Carter approached.
The three women up. They were all lovely, but the
one seated at Rojas 's left was particularly stunning.
Rojas held out his hand. ' 'Mr. Carter, I
Carter ncxided, and they shc»k hands.
"Welcome to U»ndon. sir. Permit me. I am Juan Rojas. "
Caner grinned. ' 'You have me at the disadvantage. I knew
you, naturally. But tell me, how did you come to know who I
Rojas laughed. "l have spies everywhere, Mr. Caner. "
"And what have your spies told you?"
' That you were spying on me. That you are well-to-do.
1
And that you have come to London to seek some .
believe your word was 'action.' "
Carter smiled weakly. "Your spies seem to better than
mine. But essentially what they have told you is true. " He
glanced at the ladies. "But please forgive me, sir. The only
reason I spied at all was to find someone who might challenge
what I might consider a certain skill with cards.
"What sort of cards, might I ask?" Rojas asked. He was
intrigued.
'Poker, ' ' Carter said, naming the one game unogEcted in
these circles.
"How very. .
30




30
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
hardness creeping into his voice. "But tell me. Mr. Carter,
how long do you plan on staying in London?" He motioned
for Carter to have a seat at the table.
When thev were all settled and all had fresh drinks. Caner
tumed back to Rojas. ' 'My plans at this moment are indefi-
nite, Senhor Rojas. 's
"Upon what do your plans depend. Mr. Carter?" the girl
to Rojas's left asked.
• •Permit me to introduce Senhorita Carmella Perez.
Rojas said.
"Senhorita Perez." Carter said. inclining his head. He
smiled. • •My stay her is devrndent upon only one thing.
is?" the woman asked.
or not I find a gambler man enough to challenge
me at my own game.
Rojas stiffened.
am looking for—if the ladies will please pardon my
expression—a man with the balls to gamble with me.
Carmella hid her smile tk•hind an ornate lace fan. Her eyes
were very large and very dark.
Carter tossed down his remaining cognac. then up
and bowed deeply to Rojas. "If you will now excuse me.
Senhor Rojas. ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for the drink
ard the very pleasant company. ' ' The last he directed to
Carmella.
Rojas was angry. Caner could see it in the way the man
abruptly got to his feet. It lcx)ked as if his b«iyguards wanted
nothing more than to yank out their artillery and blow Caner
away.
will you be
looking for your action this
evening. Mr. Carter?" Rojas said. It sounded more like a
command than a question.
Caner smiled and his time answering. • •I thought I
might wander out to the Alhambra. • '
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31




31
Rojas n«ided. A faint sheen cf Frspiration covered his
lip.
'I understand I might find an amateur or two out there, "
Carter
Rojas was visibly shaking.
'l'm told there 's usually a high roller or two playing who
fancies himself gcxxl but who couldn 't win at a tea social even
if his luck was with him. '
For just a moment Carter thought he had gone too far. The
mountain of muscle next to Rojas started to reach inside his
jacket. But Rojas held the man off with a glance, then tumed
to Carter with a tight smile that looked more like a grimace.
"Poker, you say?"
Carter stepped away from the table and held out his hand.
Rojas tcx)k it reluctantly.
"Poker is my game," Carter "But I "ve been
known to stoop so low as to with a bit of chemin de
fer. "
' 'Baccarat?"
Carter laughed. ' 'A ladies' game, actually. But I •ve
played it from time to time.









THREE
At the front desk, Carter asked if there were any messages
for him. In the glass front of the cabinet the long
counter, Carter could see the reflection of two of Rojas's
gorillas. They hung back by the bell captain's desk. ney
obviously had been sent to follow him.
"No, sir. No messages this evening. '
g Thank you, " Caner said. "I would like an automobile. "
' 'Of course, sir. Your driver will be with you—-"
' *No," Carter said sharply. A few heads turned his way.
"I would prefer a self-drive. "
The clerk seemed flustered for just a moment. "I would
not advise that, sir. "
"I've been to London before, and I've driven here. "
' 'As you wish, sir, " the clerk said. He turned away and got
on the phone. As he did, Carter watched the glass and saw
Rojas, the three women with him, and his other four body-
guards emerge from the casino and leave the hotel by the
front entrance. The two bodyguards who had evidently been
assigned to Carter remained in the lobby.
The clerk put down the telephone and tumed back to
Carter. ' 'A small Mercedes—I believe it will be a 450SL--—
will be at your disposal momentarily, sir. "
34
33





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+ 110%
NICK CARTER
Caner smiled. "Thank you. I'll be at the Alhambra. " He
placed a twenty-pound note on the counter, turned, and
headed across the lobby. Out of the corner of his eye he
noticed with satisfaction that one of his tails was scrambling
toward a side door, while the other came his way.
Outside, a minute or two later. his tail humed up the block
and climbed into a Jaguar sexlan with some kind of a shield on
its radiator. A minute after that, a powder blue Mercedes
450SL convertible slid up to the curb, and a uniformed hotel
employee jumped out.
' •Mr. Carter?" he called.
Carter crossed the sidewalk and climtrd into the car,
passing the dnver a ten-pound tip. The man closed the door.
w •Now be careful driving, sir. The traffic is a bit fierce out
there this evening. "
"Right," Carter said through the orxn window. He
slammed the car in low gear and hammered the accelerator
pedal to the floor.
The Jaguar's lights came on, and the car leaFEd away from
the curb, but within seconds Carter was careening around
Piccadilly Circus much too fast, up Regent Street, and then
West on Oxford Street toward Hyde Park.
Rojas's goons never had a chance. They had lost Carter
from the moment he had pulled away from the hotel.
Down on Bayswater Road, Carter pulled into a side street
where he doused the lights and parked. He wasn't too far
from Paddington Station.
He locked the car and hurried up to the station on fc.X)t,
where he quickly found a cab and directed the driver to take
him to the Ritz.
Mueh to the cabby •s puzzlement, Carter got out a block
before the hotel and paid a very handsome tip. Yanks're
bloody crazy, the driver thought, folding the money and
putting it into a pocket.
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35




35
After the cab had gone, Caner made his way around to a
side entrance to the hotel. He climbed a flight of stairs to the
third floor, where he took an elevator the rest of the way to the
top
Rojas and his men-—except for the two still out looking for
Caner—were on their way to the Alhambra. Carter figured
Rojas 's suite would be unattended this evening, at least for a
few hours.
There were four penthouse suites on the top floor, and it
took Carter only a few minutes to find out which belonged to
Rojas. Two were occupied and had parties in progress. The
third was empty; it was tRing redecorated. Which left the
fourth. ne front unit. The most prestigious of them all.
He used his stiletto to pick the easy lock, then he slipped
inside. For a minute he just waited in the vestibule, listening
to the sounds of the apartrnent.
Lamps had been left on in the sitting rcx)rn, aml there was
light in what appeared to be a kitchenette and serving area on
the inside wall. But there were no sounds. If anyone was still
in the suite, he was either sleeping or very much on guard.
Carter withdrew his Luger, screwed the silencer on the
barrel, and advanced carefully into the suite, The living room
was clear, as was the front bathroom and second bedroom.
He slipped around the comer, down the short corridor, and
into the master suite. The big bed had been slept in, and
clothing had been tossed carelessly around it. But there was
no one there. Nor was there anyone in the huge walk-in
closets or in the master bath.
He unscrewed the silencer and reholstered his weapon,
then went to work. Beginning with the master bath and
efficiently working his way back toward the front door, he
quietly searched the suite.
Carter found nothing of interest except for two names
scrawled on the pad by the telephone in the master suite:
36
NICK



36
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
CHATEAU LE FAVRE
BARNET
Barnet was a small town just north of London. But Chåteau
Le Favre? Carter thought about the name, but it didn 't ring a
Was it in England? Or perhaps France?
Carter took one last look around the suite to make sure he
had not moved anything out of place, and then he went to the
He it a crack and looked out into the corridor.
The bell captain was there with one of Rmas's men. It was
one of the men who had followed Carter from the lobby.
They were arguing about something and had evidently just
come up on the elevator. Carter figured it was a safe bet they
would come into the suite.
Carter closed and latched the door, hurried across the
sitting room, and let himself out onto the balcony.
Far traffic on Piccadilly was heavy. Above, there
was no way to the roof, which, even if he on the railing,
was too far to reach.
Lights came on in the sitting room, and the sound of the
voices of Rojas's man and the captain rose and fell.
Carter put his ear to the door.
despite what you may have to say, Senhor Rojas
told me to come back here and to stay here. "
"I have no argument with that."
"You had better not," an angry voice shouted. ' 'All you
have to do is keep this floor clear. "
"Impossible. This is a public hotel, not a private for-
tress."
Then at least keep watch. If someone comes up, give me
a call. If Carter—"
"If that bastard shows up here, I 'II waste him," snapped
the bell captain. "And you can tell that to your boss if you'd
like. I don't care. He's nothing but a mouth with a lot of
money. He's nothing to be worTied about, I assure you. "
DEATH HAND PLAY
37



37
Rojas's man laughed. ' Vlhat is my worry, not yours. Just
do as you are told, and when it is over you will well paid. "
"I want no trouble here. "
"You will get none from me if you do as you are told. "
There was silence for a while, but then Caner distinctly
heard the front door to the suite open and close. A few
minutes later the television came on.
Rojas's txxiyguard was obviously going to remain in the
suite for the rest of the night. There would be no getting past
him without killing him, which would ruin everything. Get-
ting to know Rojas and what he was up to wa.sn 't going to be
easy. Rojas would have to tE convinced that Carter was
nothing more than what he appeared to an arrogant
playboy with far more money than sense.
Carter again checked the possibility of gaining access to
the roof, but there was simply no way up. No decorative
bricks to climb up. No downspouts. No wires. Nothing,
The sitting room balcony was separated from the master
suite balcony by a space of about ten feet. Directly below that
balcony was the balcony of the room on the floor txlow. It
was a drop of around fifteen feet, and it was angled to the left.
Quickly, Carter stepped over the railing and, holding on
with one hand, leaned way out and leaped for the master suite
balcony, making it easily.
He stepped over that railing, went to the far side of the
balcony, and looked over the edge.
There was a light shining from the window below, casting
its pale yellow glow on the narrow strip of concrete.
There was no other way. Carter took a few deep breaths.
The street was six stories below. A very long drop.
He climbed over the railing, then, hunching down, eased
his body over the edge. He started swinging, first in short
little arcs, then going wider and wider, his movements pull-
ing his hands from the balcony floor.
38



38
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
At the precise moment he was certain his grip would no
longer hold, he gave one final swing and dropped off into
space.
The balcony came up beneath him, and he hit feet first but
off-balance, striking the railing painfully with his left
forearm and chest.
He straightened up just as thecurtains were yanked back in
Rojas 's suite above. The balcony door opened, and someone
stepped out.
Carter flattened himself against the far comer of his bal-
cony. From where he stocxl he could just see the edge of
Rojas 's balcony. A pair of shoes and trouser legs appeared,
stopped a moment, then went away. The balcony door
closed. and it was quiet again.
Carter breathed a sigh of relief, then put his ear against the
door. He thought he could hear running water—maybe a
shower—and he could hear someone talking. After a minute
or so he realized the talking was the television, and the
running water was indeed a shower.
He tried the balcony door. It was unlocked and slid back
easily. He parted the curtain and looked inside.
A black slip and a black cocktail dress were laid out on the
king-size bed. The bathroom door was ()EEn.
Carter slipped into the room, closing the balcony door
behind him, and made his way across the room to the bath-
room door.
The shower stopped as he stepped past the OEkn door. He
could hear the door of the shower stall opening, and a woman
started to hum some tune.
He opened the door to the hotel corridor and looked out for
a second. He was just turning back after closing the dcx»r
when an attractive young woman stepped out of the bath-
She stopped in her tracks. Startled. And nude.
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39
Carter smiled. "Pardon me, miss, but apparently I have
the wrong room. Either that or I have a tRautiful albeit
unknown visitor. "
She smiled back. ' s You have the wrong mom, unfortu-
nately, Monsieur . . . She was French.
"I'm so sorry, " Carter said. He turned, hurried down the
corridor, and pushed the button for the elevator. Before the
car came he looked back. The woman was peering around the
comer of the doorframe.
"Au revoir, -he said as he stepped into the elevator and
the doors closed.
His chest hurt, and his ann ached. He didn't think he had
broken anything. But he'd be sore as hell in the morning.
He got off on the ballroom floor, then crossed to the back
where he took a service elevator to the ground floor and let
himself out the back way.
A few of the hotel staff saw him, but no one paid him any
attention. A block away he hailed a cab, which he took back
to Paddington Station. From there he walked back to the
Mercedes.
Forty minutes later Carter pulled up in front of the
Alhambra. It was ten o'clock, and he was very hungry and
very sore.
"Welcome to the Alhambra, " an olive-skinned valet
greeted him as he got out of the car. Cuban? Carter wondered
as he started through the gates and up the walk.
He was ready to meet Rojas tonight. The man was here to
gamble. Carter would give it to him. His plan was to gently
hammer at the man and to keep hammering at him until
something popped, until Rojas made a mistake.
He was greeted at the door by the club manager. "Wel-
come to the Alhambra, sir. Are you a member?"
"Yes," Carter said. "But this will be my first visit."
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40
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NICK CARTER
s 'I see, sir," the manager said. He was about to show
Carter to the registration desk, when he "Your
name, sir?"
s Carter. Nick Caner. You may contact the Ritz for
my—
"lhat will not be necessary, sir. Senhor Rojas has
vouched for you. He is expecting you. "
Carter just looked at the man.
"Sir?" the manager asked.
"I'd just as soon you check with the Ritz in town. I'm
nobody's guest here but my own. Especially not Senhor
Rojas's."
w course, sir," the man said smoothly. He had been
down this path with other guests. He picked up a telephone,
asked for a number, and within two minutes he was hanging
up, a huge smile on his face. "What sort of a line will you be
needing this evening, Mr. Carter?"
"A hundred thousand for now. And a dealer. "
"Pounds, sir?"
"Of course. And we'll be playing poker. " Carter wrote a
check for that amount.
"Yes, sir. "
"I drink cognac. Good cognac, "
'Of course. And will you and Senhor Rojas be needing a
private room?"
Caner appeared to think about it for a moment, but then he
shook his head, "No, I don't believe so. Let's make this
public. It should be educational. "
Carter went through the entrance hall, up three stairs, and
into the main gaming rcx)rn. It was very large, and unlike Las
Vegas rooms with their low ceilings, this one had high,
soaring ceilings with huge chandeliers, making it seem al-
most like a church.
Slot machines were to the left, blackjack and craps tables
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were straight ahead. and to the right were the roulette wheels.
Beyond them stood the baccarat tables, two of them.
A band was set up along the back wall, and on the near wall
to the right was the bar. To the left were three SBEial gaming
tables. One of them was set up now.
Rojas was nowhere to be seen. Carter got himself a cognac
fmm the bar and wandered off to the right, toward the roulette
tables.
The woman who had been with Rojas was there. She was
winning. Carter stcxxi her for a minute or two before
she tumed and looked up at him.
"Mr. Carter, " she said. Her voice was as lovely as she
was.
"Senhorita Perez, I believe it is. "
She smiled and inclined her head. "You are here to see
"Yes, I am."
"He is most anxious to meet with you at the gaming
tables, " she said. Without looking, she placed large on
black and on even.
"And this makes you nervous?"
"Somewhat," she said, smiling softly. "Juan is. . . how
. a very intense man. For him now, winning is
shall Isay. .
everything. He would stop at nothing, Mr. Carter, at noth-
ing. "
' 'Does he cheat?"
' 'l never cheat, sir, but I always win. "
Carter turned around to face the tall, handsome South
American. They shook hands.
"I understand you wish to play a little poker. "
'The thought had crossed my mind on the way out here. ' '
"Did you have trouble finding the place?"
"None whatsoever, Senhor Rojas. I drove right to it. "
It was all Rojas could do to maintain his self-control, His
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NICK CARTER
goons behind him lcx)ked as if they wanted to take the place
apart.
' SA thousand-pound ante and a three-raise limit suit you? ' '
Carter asked.
"Twenty-five hundred pounds might be better," Rojas
replied, smiling.
Carter looked back at Carmella , whose eyes were wide. He
tumed back to Rojas.
"Is it high-stakes poker you're after, then?"
' 'Exactly," Rojas replied.
Carter let the smile fade from his lips. S Vlhen let's cut the
bullshit, Rojas, ' ' he said, his voice soft. and low and menac-
ing. Ten-thousand-pound ante with no raise limit. Just you
and me and the dealer. No one else. "
Rojas was taken aback. There were several people
gathered around them now that it was understcxxl some kind
of a gambling duel was in the offing. Rojas finally ncxided.
'Go«xi, ' • Carter said. brushing past the man and his goril-
las and heading toward the poker table. "I'm just in the
to kick some ass tonight. s'
A young man dressed in a tuxedo was seated the
dealer's position at the table that had been set up for them.
lhe club manager was standing nearby to make sure every-
thing would go smoothly.
Carter stalked up to the table and stopped by his chair.
The young dealer was dark-haired and very
Carter would have bet his last dollar the man was Cuban,
Rojas was dealing with the Russians on this one, and some-
thing was about to happen in the Caribbean basin. Cuba and
Russia were close allies.
Caner decided to take this opportunity to again shake up
Rojas and his people.
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43
"You," he said to the dealer. 'Get out of there. Get away
from the table. "
The young man was shocked. He stcx:xi up but didn 't move
away.
"I said I want you to get the hell out of there. Don't you
understand English?"
The club manager rushed up to Carter. Rojas and his
people stcxxi aside, watching.
"Sir, what is the trouble?"
s 'I don't want this man as my dealer, " Carter snapped.
The manager started to sputter something, but Carter cut
him off.
s 'I just don't like his looks. "
s Of course, sir," the manager said, recovering his com-
posure. "Do you have anyone in mind? We can bring in
another dealer. ' '
"I want you, " Carter said. The man was British, and the
club would rise or fall on his honesty. Whereas one of his
dealers might be able to get away with something and not
seriously hurt the club's reputation, its manager could not.
"Impossible, sir," the man said.
But Carter had already seated himself. "I would like
another cognac," he said, holding up his glass. ' 'And I
would like to begin. I am here to play cards, not argue. "
"But Mr. Carter, it is impossible for me to act as your
dealer. I have many other duties. "
Carter looked from the man to Rojas. "What say, Senhor
Rojas?" he called out, deliberately mispronouncing the
man's narne.
Rojas went white. His bodyguards were shaking with
ambition, but Rojas held them back. He nodded to the man-
ager.
"It would be a personal favor to me, Mr. Danners. "
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NICK CARTER
I
The manager from Rojas to Caner and back again.
Finally he nodded. ' 'As you wish, gentlemen. ne Alhambra
is here to serve. "
'SI wonder where I've heard that line Carter
mumbled under his breath but loud enough for the crowd
nearest him to hear what he said.
Rojas sat down, his bodyguards on either side of him, two
of his girls nearby.
Danners, the club manager, took his seat, passed a sealed
deck to each man for their inspection, and then one.
Deftly he spread the cards out in the perfect dealer's arc,
then flipped them over in a fan, smoothly extracting the
jokers.
s 'Mr. Ca.rter, you named the action, which makes you the
challenger," Danners •aid. He tumed to Rojas. "Senhor
Rojas, it is up to you to narne the game. "
"Five card stud," Rojas said without hesitation. "First
and last card up, tkts double on the first pair or better. "
Caner grinned. He glanced at his chips. 'Golds are ten
thousand pounds, reds are five thousand, and blue, a
thousand?"
Danners nodded, passing the shuffled deck to Carter, who
cut. Danners smoothly closed the deck and quickly dealt the
first cards as Carmella Perez came up behind Carter and lit a
cigarette.








FOUR
It was just a little after midnight. A fairly large crowd had
gathered behind Rojas and Carter at the pker table where
Claude Danners, the Alhambra's manager, was dealing.
Rojas had tEen winning quite heavily. At this he was
at least L 15000 ahead. Carter had had to write a check for a
second
nere was already a certain pessimism in the crowd, that
was common in any totally one-sided contest. Rojas had
begun by winning, he had continued to win, and it looked as
if nothing would stop him.
But Caner had let the man win. As far as he was able to
tell, Danners had not cheated. But Caner susrrcted that had
the handsome Hispanic dealt, there would have been no
question who was going to win.
Rojas had begun as a conservative gambler in an unfamil-
iar game against an unfamiliar player.
Early on, however, after Carter had had a couple of very
desultory wins and some fairly heavy losses, Rojas had
begun to smile and enjoy himself. He had lcx)sened up im-
mediately, swinging his wide. searching for fills for his
pairs and triplets for his full houses.
It was time, Carter figured, to teach the man a little bit
about poker.
46
45
NICK CARTER





46
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
Danners had just dealt the first cards up: a king for Rojas
and an ace for Carter. The second card, down, carne, and
Carter, without bothering to look at it, slid a pile of chips
across.
"Ace bets fifty thousand, " he said.
Rojas blinked and stiffened. A slight stir rustled through
the crowd.
"The man has a pair of aces," Rojas said. matching the
The previous largest bet had only Iren C 20.0(X). With
the antes. there was in the center of the table now,
with only two of the five cards out.
*The table is set?" Danners asked.
Carter ncxided, Rojas grinned and nodded.
The third card each. down. came out. Still Carter did not
bother looking at his two down cards.
"Ace tkts another fifty thousand. Carter said.
The crowd murmured.
Danners sat forward. am sorry. Mr. Carter. but you
have exceeded your credit limit.
"You are going to stop me with a hand like this?"
"But you have not even looked at your cards. sir!
"You are going to tell me how to play poker, then?"
Carter snapped. He reached for his wallet. Rojas's goons
nearly jumped out of their tuxedoes. But Carter pulled out his
wallet, opened it. and tossed out his three premier credit
cards. "Between them. I have a credit limit ofa million anda
half, . . pounds. More if I wish tomake acall. Doyou wish
to challenge my marker?"
Danners scooped up Carter's credit cards. • 'I am most
sorry, sir. I meant no Of course your marker is
good with the Alhambra. "
Carter smiled. ' "Ihankyou. ne ace bets fifty thousand. as
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Danners passed over L in gold markers, and Car-
ter diverted L to the center of the table.
Rojas checked his down cards, smiled ever so slightly,
and shov«i out five markers. "See your fifty
thousand, ' ' he said and pushed out two more. S 'And raise you
twenty thousand more.
The entire club was deathly silent , except for an occasional
slot machine. Someone in the back was oblivious to the
drama at the table.
Carter laughed out loud. '"Ihe man has spirit. I lüce that! "
He shoved outL 20,ßX). "See your twenty' '—he shoved out
five more gold markers—"and raise you another fifty
thousand. "
A gasp ran thmugh the crowd. Rojas looked at his down
cards again. Carter lit a cigarette and ordered another cognac.
His eyes met Cameila's. She looked very frightened.
The moment stretched for a long time. Carter 's drink came
even though it was illegal to drink at a gaming table.
txt has been placed, Senhor Rojas, " Danners finally
said. His voice was soft and very obsequious.
see it," Rojas snarled. He shoved five gold markers
into the huge pile at the center of the table.
"No raises, Senhor Rojas?" Carter taunted.
"Let's play poker. "
Carter nodded.
Danners dealt the fourth card, the last one down, and sat
back. Rojas enced his card up so that he could just see it. He
brightened ever so slightly. Car-ter figured the man had a pair
of kings. Anything tEtter and he'd be betting more heavily
than he had been, just on the come.
Carter made a show of not looking at his down cards, and
he shoved out "Ace bets fifty big ones. "
Rojas grinned. "I'll see that and raise you another fifty,"
NICK CARTER




48
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
he said. shoving ten gold chips across.
was right. A pair of kings and the man gets frisky."
Carter shoved a huge pile of chips across. "See your fifty
thousand—and raise you a hundred grand.
One could almost touch the tension in the atrnosphere of
the club. Even Danners. whom Carter wa.s sure hai seen a lot
of gambling in his time. wxs on his tces. In of the
table rested C 660.10. And there was more to come.
Rojas leaned back and spoke with one of his g'Nns for a
moment. Ihe man and one of his buddies Bieled off fmm the
crowd and left. Trouble. Carter figured.
Very slowly Rojas pushed across thec raise. • •I'll
hold here," he said.
• •The table set. gentlemen?" Danners a.oced.
Rojas nexlded.
• • You're not so proud of your pair of kings. senhor•.••
Carter asked with an American twang. mangling his pronun-
ciation of the Ponuguese word,
••Let•s play cards: • Rojas snapß*d.
"I thought that •s what I was doing." Carter said inmv
cently. sitting forward. He motioned for the next card.
Danners dealt Carter a second ace. and Rojas a queen. Ihe
South American seemed confused for a moment. then
crstfallen. and finally he sat back and just Kvked at Caner. a
very look in his eyes.
Caner chuckied. "Pair of aces tx•ts a hundred thousand.
and he hopes for a substantial raise from the Banut galleo.
Rojas at his down cards. A thin sheen of Frspira-
tion coated his brow. He up at Carter. "You play this
without looking at your cards" •s
Carter slammed his hand on the tabletop. • •Is everyone in
this goddamned club going to tell me how to play
Rojas said nothing. Dannen looked away. Ihe crowd was
excited.
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49
' 'Play," Carter whisErred. "Bet or fold, I don't give a
damn. "
g 'I think you have the third ace," Rojas said calmly.
"You'll have to pay to see it, senhor. One hundred
grand. " There was on the table.
Rojas had less than in chips left. He was good for
more. Everyone that. He toyed with the chips for a
bit.
"You going to play pker or count your money?" Carter
asked.
Rojas smiled and shcx»k his head. much forme, " he
said. He flipped his cards down and them toward
Danners. "I need another few hundred thousand. The next
hand will be "
Carter grinned and sto«l up. ne crowd ga.sr*d. He tossed
a L chip toward Danners, another illegal move under
British law. S' Thanks for an interesting game. Send my
winnings over to the Ritz. "
Rojas up. "You're not quitting now .
' 'Indeed I am, " Carter said pleasantly. "I always make it a
practice to quit while I'm ahead. You should take a lesson,
Senhor Rojas. "
One of Rojas 's bodyguards had come around the table, He
brushed past Caner and reached down for his hand, intending
to turn over the three down cards. Carter's hand shot out,
pinning the other man's hand to the table.
For a moment there was a little struggle that was mostly
hidden from the spectators ' view. Caner had the advantage in
strength and, because of his position, in leverage.
Rojas ncxided, and the bodyguard relaxed. For a long
moment Carter held tight, a very hard look coming into his
eyes.
"You ever attempt anything like that again with me, big
IX)Y, and I'll kill you."
50





50
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NICK CARTER
Carter released the man's hand and stepped back, his
muscles taut and ready for whatever the goon might take it
into his head to do.
But the bodyguard had more control than Carter had given
him credit for. He backed off, rubbing his wrist.
"I am sorry, sir. I atx)logize. I meant nothing. I was
curious • i"
Carter rudely turned away from him. "As I was saying,
Mr. Danners, have my winnings sent to the Ritz. "
Danners nodded. He was hoping for no trouble.
' 'And it would be unfortunate .
. most unfortunate if
anything should happen to my funds between here and
there."
Danners puffed up. "I assure you, sir—
'Yes, you do, ' ' Caner said. He tumed and t»wed slightly
to Carmella, then nonchalantly headed out of the club, the
crowd parting with for him. No matter the establish-
ment, to bet and win more than three quarters ot a million
pounds was an achievement.
Outside, a Mercedes sedan took off into the night, back
toward London, and Carter grinned. The frontline troops , no
doubt.
The parking valet came, saw Carter, and hurried back for
his car. A minute or two later the 450SL slid upto the canopy,
and the valet jumEkd out.
Caner got in behind the wheel , the door was closed, and he
headed out, swinging around toward London. He figured
he'd give them a couple of miles to do whatever it was they
wanted to do before he'd double back.
He had hurt Rojas. He had seen it in the man's manner.
Now he wanted to see what the Brazilian 's reaction would be
. other than sending his gorillas after the opposition, of
course.
It happened less than two blocks from the club. The big
DEATH





51
Mercedes was slewed across the road, its front right wheel
just over the edge.
There was no one in sight. ne road was very dark. Carter
unbuttoned his jacket and came to a complete halt.
For a moment or two he just sat there, then he doused his
headlights, leaving only his parking lights on, and he pulled
his car over to the side of the road. He left himself plenty of
room to get the hell out of there in a hurry if necessary.
He got out of the car and stepped around toward the
Mercedes sedan some twenty feet away. The big car's head-
lights were on. As Carter got closer, he could see a man
dressed in a tuxedo hunched over the steering wheel as if he
had hit his head in the crash and was unconscious.
Carter didn't think they'd kill him. Not until they knew
what he was all about. And not until they had a chance to get
Rojas 's money back. But they were going to rough him up.
Or at least they were going to try.
He carne around the rear of the sedan cautiously
moved up to the open window on the driver's side. The man
hunched over the steering wheel didn 't move. Carter reached
out and touched his shoulder, and the man sat up, a big
Russian automatic in his right fist.
Carter stepped back, his hands going up, as someone else
came out of the shadows in the trees the road.
The man in the car started to get out at the same moment
the goon reached around for Carter's gun.
Carter stepped aside, knocking the man's gun away with
his elbow, then turned, grabbed the second man, spun him
around, and shoved him against the half-(WI car door.
"Son of a bitch," one of them shouted.
Carter stepped forward, his weight swinging to his left foot
as he planted a right hook on the goon's chin.
The bodyguard 's head snapped back, bouncing against the
roof of the car, and he started to sink to his knees.
52



52
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NICK CARTER
I
Carter grabbed his lapels and propelled him away from the
car, sending him skidding on the roadway.
He yanked the car door the rest of the way open, reached
inside, and pulled out the half-dazed "accident victim. " He
hit him once very hard in the solar plexus and again just as
hard in the face. The man to his knees and then fell
on his face on the road.
Working quickly now, in case another car came along,
Carter bent down and retrieved tX)th men 's guns and wallets.
Back in his own car, he swung the Mercedes sedan around
and drove another half a block until he found a driveway in
which to turn around. Then he headed back to the Alhambra.
Carter remained where he was, parked half a block from
the front entrance to the club, for nearly an hour, smoking
one cigarette after another. For a while he thought he had
already missed Rojas. He figured the man had already left the
club.
He had almost decided to risk going inside and looking
around when Rojas, four of his bodyguards, and the three
women, including Carmella Perez, came out of the club.
They stocxi there, laughing and talking, waiting for the
valet to bring their car.
Carter was somewhat disappointed. He would have bet
almost anything that a wounded Rojas , losing at cards , would
head out without his entourage—or at least without most of
it—to confer with whoever he was doing this for.
Actually, Carter thought, his logic was a little thin. De-
spite what AXE's files indicated, and despite their best pre-
dictions as to what Rojas was up to, the man could very well
be here in London for nothing more than was apparent—
merely to have a gcxxl time gambling.
Two cars pulled up to the curb, and two valets popped out.
Ca.rter grinned.
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