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played every conceivable t»reaucratic game to insure my
patErs' validity. If they were counterfeit. they were better
than the real thing. But South African laws being what they
are, I was sure it was impossible to ever have one hundred
rrrcent up to the moment documents.
' 'Your tnreau chief made an error. You failed to get a visa
when you left Cape Town for Paarl."
' 'This country has the screwiest travel regulations of any
place I 've ever been, I declared forcefully. *'Seems a white
man gets treated the same as a native around here. " I heard
the intake of breath from everyone in the mom. ' 'I even got
put in the same ceil with three natives. Not even Coloreds but
natives. "
' 'An error has made in this Mr. Carter, ' ' said
the commissioner. "We do not mistreat foreigners visiting
our country, nor we humiliate them. "
'Maybe it was an oversight," I said slowly. Never trap a
rat in the comer. He'll fight to the (kath every time. I had to
lighten up enough so that the commissioner would let me go.
ne threat of world news stories concerning South African
policies toward their blacks had worked miracles. Further
hinting that I'd insulted by t*ing caged with three
blacks had shown him I possessed the right of Plitical
bent that, if he released me, no adverse stories would
written.
"What's that, Corvoral?" the commissioner said. The
corpral hadn't said a word. '*You found the travel
visa stuck to the back of Mr. Carter's Cape Town visa.
Excellent. ' ' ne man turned to me and took a step forward so
that his face hovered at the edge ofillumination from the bare
bulb. "It has all tren a terrible error, Mr. Carter. You had the
proper travel Frm.it all the time. It had gotten stuck from
humidity to your other papers."
"lhat's a relief, " I said. "Now I won't have to yell at my
boss for making a mistake. "
"No, Mr. Carter, you won't. " Ihe commissioner patted
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on the back like I was a longtime friend. • 'Did you know
that the word 'boss' originated in *Nth Africa? It's a boer
word. "
'How fascinating. An article on the contributions of South
Africa to the English language might interesting. "
"I'm sure it would. Corporal," commissioner said,
tuming from me, "see that Mr. Carter is on his way without
any further delay.
' 'fianks, Commissiorrr," I called. as he left t}'E I
couldn 't see his expression. The bright light was still in my
eyes.
The bartender's expression bordered on total dist*lief as I
walked back into the pub.
"Another lager," I ordered, sitting in the same booth I'd
vacated three hours earlier.
S'Didn •t expect to see you again, " he said, bringing me the
beer. "Usually. the folks nabbed in a cnme swoop are never
seen again. "
"I was inncrent," I said.
"But you hit the police sergeant! lhey'd likely take you
out back and you for something like that. I 've seen it
done before."
"l'm not a native. " The man's eyes widened a little as he
set down the beer. Before he left I asked, would like to
meet one, however."
' sone what?"
' 'A native. I •m a reporter for Amalgamated Press and Wire
Services. nat simple statement opened up the floodgates.
He understood everything with perfect clarity now. I was
white; I was American; I was a reporter. No wonder I got
away with defending myself from a police sergeant.
"Lots of the Irggars around, " he replied. ' 'Got a location
not far from here. "
"What's that? A 'location?' I heard it mentioned but I
don't understand the term. "
mcroR DNA
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• 'A where the natives live. neir homeland. ne
governn*nt's given them to live on and rule for
themselves. fiat's created quite a bit of Üouble, near the
bor&rs, of course. "
"Ofcourse," i agreed. ' •nat's why they have the crime
swcxvs? To catch illegals sneaking across from South Africa
to the locations?"
' 'The black trggars come out and steal and murder, then
sneak back, thinking they're immune. They're not. he
police are empowered to go in after them. The swoop is the
best way of catching them. Sometirnes they have to search
entire villages inside the homeland."
"Some homeland," I said dryly. He missed the irony.
"Tell nr how I might get out to one of these locations. "
"Most of the natives are more•n willing to show you
around, if you have the travel papers to get in and out. I heard
that Chief Mangope up north in Bophutatswana gcrs out of
his way to entice tourists. He's even got himself a wave
making machine."
"Wave making machine?"
"For waves. " Seeing I still didn't understand. he
added, "To surf. His lcution is inland, not far from Pretoria ,
so wavß are a real attraction. "
"Certainly a growth industry," I said, astounded. ' 'But I
don't want to go all the way north. Anything around here?"
' 'You might ask down the road a way. Other than that, I
can't tell you too much. No need to go into the homelands,
myself. • '
e Thanks, " I said, sipping at my "By the way, what
haprrned to the other fellow who was in here when the police
came
'The guy at that table?" he asked, pointing. "Don'treally
know. Never saw him Eæfore. Ihn't think he was from
around here. Imagine, two foreigners in my pub in one day. '
When the bartender left, I ran my hand under the seat
cushions. To my relief Wilhelmina and Hugo were
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there. With police searches at vinually every crossroads,
carrying weapns worked against me. Still, I felt t*tter with
them on me.
I kept them under my coat until I got outside, then put them
on. Crime swoops or no, I went armed.
"What's the name of the fellow you want?" the black
asked, lounging back and picking his broken, yellowed teeth
with a long, narrow, and very sharp knife.
"Sam Uwanal*," I repeated. "We have a mutual
friend. "
"Who?"
' 'What's in a name?" I asked.
For a long minute, the man eyed me, to decide.
Vvhen his expression hardened slightly I knew he'd decided
against the introduction. My foot looped out, caught him
behind the ankle, pulled. He went sprawling, his knife clat-
tering to the ground. I steppd on his wnst as he reached for
it.
"You're not i*ing polite. asked for "
"Don't know anybody named that."
'0But you were pointed out to me as a man who knew
everything—for a price. "
' can't tell you what I don't know."
"And you won't telling anyone anything if I cut your
tongue out and stuffed it up your nose. even use your own
knife. " Keeping my foot on his wrist, I tEnt down and picked
up the knife, testing it for balance. It looked flashy tilt wasn 't
worth too much in a fight. ne thin blade caused the balance
to fall way back, halfway down the handle. Throwing it away
would the trst way of throwing it.
"Youte not police."
sve qxnt the morning with the plice. In ajail cell. With
three blacks." My use of the word "blacks" instead of
' 'natives" seemed to change things us.
"You with three of us?"
' The police got confused, maytk."
DOCTOR •DNA
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"But they let you go."
41
said they were confused. I'm not. I want to talk with
Sam Uwanate. He can set the conditions. All I want is to
talk."
' 'Sam might want to see you, " came a voice from trhind,
"if you let that one go. "
"He's too small a fish for me, anyway, " I said. I dropped
the knife and took my foot off the wrist. Turning to
face the other man, I sent my heel rocketing backward to
catch the arm trying to dnve the knife up and into my back. I
didn't bother even looking at him. "You ire Sam
aren't you?" I asked the newcomer.
"I've been called worse. "
' 'Tell your friend to get " I said , indicating the man on
the ground. "And tell him to be more careful with his knife. "
' 'No need for me to tell him. You 've done it quite admira-
bly. " The accent was unmistakably British.
"Oxford?" asked.
' 'Cambridge, really, but they are ever so close except
when it comes to rowing. "
"You were on a crew?" If he had teen he'd lost a lot of
weight since those days on the Thames. Rowers need firm
muscles. Sam was stringy to the point of emacia-
tion. What muscle he had was piano wire, not bulk.
' 'Hardly. But surely you didn 't risk life and limb to inquire
about my spons activities? Just getting into a bantustan
requires a certain amount of perseverance. "
I had sneaked in over the border, avoiding the police
patrols. The lcutions or homelands or bantustans, depend-
ing on whom you talked to, were closer to prisons than
homes. I'd had an image of an Indian reservation in mind;
reservations in the U.S. don't have wire fences and patrols
around them.
"l need information. "
"Knowledge is B)wer," he said quietly. His dark eyes
fixed on me until I felt like a bug under a microscope.
"Tell me your group."





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"Group? belong to a group, as you so quaintly term
it? I am a peace-loving native, nothing more. "
"And as a rrace-loving native, you sve accumulated more
scars and bullet wounds than half the allied armies in World
War II. " I returned his gaze, bold and almost defiant. He
seemed to come to the conclusion that playing word games
wasn't getting either of us anywhere.
' 'Why should I aid you? I doubt our goals coincide at any
point. You are an American with, presurnably, American
ideas. Your government tacitly supports the Nationalist Party
in the Union. They are our oppressors. SWAPO fights
against them here in South Africa and against their puppets,
the DTA, in Namibia. "
I'd already run+•across mention of the DTA. And the
Nationalist Party controlling most of South Africa wasn •t far
separated from the Nazis. One of South Africa •s claims when
appealing to the U.S. for aid was General Jan Christian
Smuts' opposition to the Nazis in World War II, That was
true; Smuts was an able general, but he as much time
with B)litical infighting in South Africa as he did fighting the
Axis. Such a splitting of attention caused an otherwise effec-
tive general to be less than efficient.
"SWAPO?" 1 asked.
"Southwest African Peoples Organization. "
I'd heard it all before. Usually, any organization with
' Wyple" tossed into its name meant communist. But the
political conditions in South Africa were such that only
coalitions existed. No "pure play" existed.
SWAPO survived through popular support, but from a
tion amounting to less than half the people.
• 'I don't care about Not in this one. I'm after
information. "
g 'As I said. knowledge is power. We wouldn't want that
to used against us. "
"I think what I want is separate. Your survival isn't
threatened by my knowing about your group. Tell me. I'll
reprt it. That's my business. "
DNA
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"l wonder if it is," mused aloud. Then he
smiled and said, "I will take the chance. We tred favorable
world press. You will not hear anything from me that can be
used against us."
• •That's the only way I want it," said earnestly. Sam
Uwanabe might be a communist pawn in a game encompas-
sing all of Africa, or might be a self-seeking
grabber all on his own, but I'd begun to like the man. He was
the sort of IQder the region needed to pull away from the
fragmentation of power so prevalent. And SWAPO did fight
against the Angolans and tirir Cuban-trained troops. ney
no more wanted Angolan masters than they did South
African.
He trgan a rambling, pointless history of the SWAPO. I
listened, HEchanically taking notes as I considered how best
to insinuate the questions wanted answered. There wasn •t
any need for me to subtle. Uwanabe gave me the informa-
tion I wanted, and without amraring to know it.
"We are supplied by shipments from Cape Town into
Namibia. ne ships unload at points outside of Walvis Bay. 'i
"Shipments of arms, food, supplies?" I asked.
Those. We also smuggle contraband, reload it on ships of
other nations, and obtain money to carry on. "
If Dætor DNA had SWAPO aid, this explained how the
strategic metals were handled. Loaded in CaF Town,
shipFd to some small port in Namibia, transferred to Euro-
pean ships, then the payoff split. The money was instantly
laundered and ready for use in other ventures. No trace of the
metals remained; it all went through legitimate mills in
Europe.
"I've heard that your casualty rate is very high due to
untrained What is your survival rate after injury?"
"Higher than you might think. We have many sympathiz-
ers in the medical profession out in the veldt and rain
forests. "
"The old missionary?" I said jokingly.
' 'They haven't all tren eaten by cannibals," Uwanabe
NICK CARTER





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repli«i dryly. "While they might not support us one hundred
they give aid in many ways."
"Anyone in particular?"
4 •ney do mt wish tyrir narnö bandied It is
dangerous for them.
'Is there anyone who is already connected with SWAPO?
r •d like to get an interview—human-interest stuff. My read-
ers are to the saturation pint with the bullets-and-
blood part of war."
"After your Vietnam, I understand," said Uwanabe.
' 'Doctor Bron Faber is a researcher working at the Kruger
Game Preserve. He has tren instrumental in . . .
many
things. The Union government knows of his involvement but
his value to them exceeds his misconduct in offering succor
to SWAPO injured. "
' 'What he do?" I didn •t know if this anywhere
interesting cr n«.
Then things changed.
"He is a researcher in the recombinant DNA field. I do not
know precisely his interests. He has done some work with
protecting endangered on the preserve from disease. I
have heard he works with insects carrying the disease. Some
of the Bantus in the area even claim he supplies them with
aphrodisiacs. ' ' ne man laughed harshly. ' 'They still believe
ground rhincEerous hom acts in such a fashion. not judge
all of us by a few who are still ignorant and oppressed. '
"Any idea how I can find Faber?"
S'He is well known on the Kruger Game Preserve. ' ' I noted
that Uwanabe said Kruger as if it were ' ne
man glanc«i about as if exi:rcting someone. His entire tX)dy
tensed visibly.
S 'Whatss wrong?" I didn't want him turning on me now.
"A crime swoop is in progress. You had best leave the
bantustan before they spot you. Weapns are not permitted
inside a location. "
' 'Weapons?"
"Your pistol and your knife. For a reporter, you go well
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I appreciated the way Sam Uwanabe from
sight. ne man was in his element in the lcxation. Like a dark
mist expsed to sunlight, he simply disaprra.red. A haunting
' 'I wish you luck, American agent," came down from the
roof of the bailding t*hind me. I turned but was too late to
catch sight of him.
I beard the police whistles, loud shouts, profanity, the
sound of rubt:zr hoses finding yielding flesh, and decided to
take Uwanabe's advice. It was time for me to go.
Dætor Bron Faber was r*Xt on my list to visit. I thought I
had a handle on how the strategic metals were 'fenced ' ' after
leaving Cape Town. Now all that remained was identifying
Ehctor DNA. From what lid heard Faber, the two
could be orr and the same.
It only seconds for me to duck down an alley and
emerge in the next street ahead of the crime swoop. In less
than an hour I'd crossed back into South Africa from the
bantustan.
Sornehow, the air didn't breathe any differently.









CHAVI'ER FOUR
After being penned up in a jail cell , crawling under barbed
wire fences getting in and out of the I(xation, and being
harassed continually by police, it felt great taking a shower
in the opulence of the Springbok Hotel. I ate a gcxxi meal and
grabbed a short nQ before reporting in to Hawk.
I fixed the gizmo on the television set and found the rapidly
moving AXE communications satellite high above in its
polar orbit. In seconds, the link formed tEtween Hawk and
me. This time he didn't sit behind his wide desk. I didn't
recognize the lcration at all—the signal is patched through to
Hawk, no matter where he is.
• 'Well, N3, what has been accomplished since we last
talked?" He shifted his head slightly, and I saw a narrow
hallway behind. I recogmzed his surroundings then. This was
the hallway leading down to the Oval Office. I 'd reached
Hawk at the White House.
reported quickly. Hawk nodded. made a few notes in a
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spiral notebook with a black cover—I saw the red and white
stripes running around the edges indicating this was a clas-
sified document—and then turned his full attention to me.
"In a few minutes, there will be a meeting of the top
security advisors. "
"Yes, sir, I see where you are."
"I need something definite to pass along. This matter has
upset several in the government who don 't like being upset. ' '
I didn 't have to told who these pecple were. The President
headed the list, with the National Security Advisor right
behind him. Perhaps even heads of other intelligence organi-
zations agitated in the rnatter, While AXE and the CIA are on
the same side, it often aprEars that we work at cross pur-
poses. AXE takes on jobs dangerous and too difficult for
the CIA. We have a light touch and a reputation for getting
tlr job
"I've made contact with a SWAP() leader and gotten a
lead from him."
"We are not on the t*St of terms with SWAP(), " Hawk
pointed out. "He might have fed you a red hemng. "
"Possibly, but I'm inclined to doubt that. My feeling is
that SWAPO is willing to sacrifice certain members in ex-
change for better relations. I trlieve that Bron Faber is our
Doctor DNA and that SWAPO will trade him for . . . who
knows?"
Hawk scribbled furiously. then said, "This gcxs along
with much of what we've gotten from other sources. The
Cuban-trained Angolans pose a great threat to Namibia.
SWAPO might want U.S. aid."
"Lhtor DNA might pose a threat to them, also. He wields
a of power. They might feel he's using them for his own
ends. If the scenario I outlined conceming the metals trans-
Yers via Namibia and SWAN) is correct, they could want him
removed to get a bigger piece of the action."
Hawk agreed. He glanced over his shoulder as someone
out of my field of vision spoke. recognized the voice. This
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' 'I must hurry, N3. The tsetse fly you sent has been
analyzed. Its genes have been tampered with, definite genetic
engineering of the highest caliber. The fly •s brain had a tiny
piece of iron in it."
"Iron? It grew there as a result of the gene splicing?
Why?"
"Our scientists say that the tsetse fly is now capable of
homing like a pigeon or other migratory bird. The slight
magnetic properties of the iron allow it to align in the fly 's
brain like a compass needle. "
' Can it directed using this piece of iron?" I asked.
Things clicked in my mind. The electronic humming, the
camera cases. the dials and the stick. The case carried a
power pack, the stick was a device for magnetically guiding
the tsetse fly to its target.
S 'There is no other reason to mutate a tsetse fly in this
fashion. Who cares if a tsetse fly can find its way home over a
thousand miles?" Hawk said acidly.
"What about any disease it camed?i'
• 'A particularly nasty version of yellow fever. We must
assume it is identical to what killed Dieter Karlik. Infection
causes death in less than ten minutes. The internal hemor-
raghing is the real killer, since only a few minutes of elevated
temperature will not kill an otherwise healthy man. "
' 'Karlik bled to death inside? ' ' I shivered. That was a nasty
way to go.
"What interests our scientists most is how Doctor
DNA—Faber?—has induced this virus in a tsetse fly. The
normal carrier is the Aedes aegytpi mosquito. "
' 'Can the South African ministers vaccinated against
it?"
'Against yellow fever, yes. Perhaps even against this viral
strain. But to what end, N3? Remember the sleeping sickness
and Ihassa fever ahd green monkey disease ? Doctor DNA has
a potent arsenal of diseases at his command. It is impossible
to guard against all of them. "
'd better check out Bron Fatrr right away. "






****** Result for Image/Page 1 ******
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' 'I must hurry, N3. The tsetse fly you sent has been
analyzed. Its genes have been tampered with, definite genetic
engineering of the highest caliber. The fly •s brain had a tiny
piece of iron in it."
"Iron? It grew there as a result of the gene splicing?
Why?"
"Our scientists say that the tsetse fly is now capable of
homing like a pigeon or other migratory bird. The slight
magnetic properties of the iron allow it to align in the fly 's
brain like a compass needle. "
' Can it directed using this piece of iron?" I asked.
Things clicked in my mind. The electronic humming, the
camera cases. the dials and the stick. The case carried a
power pack, the stick was a device for magnetically guiding
the tsetse fly to its target.
S 'There is no other reason to mutate a tsetse fly in this
fashion. Who cares if a tsetse fly can find its way home over a
thousand miles?" Hawk said acidly.
"What about any disease it camed?i'
• 'A particularly nasty version of yellow fever. We must
assume it is identical to what killed Dieter Karlik. Infection
causes death in less than ten minutes. The internal hemor-
raghing is the real killer, since only a few minutes of elevated
temperature will not kill an otherwise healthy man. "
' 'Karlik bled to death inside? ' ' I shivered. That was a nasty
way to go.
"What interests our scientists most is how Doctor
DNA—Faber?—has induced this virus in a tsetse fly. The
normal carrier is the Aedes aegytpi mosquito. "
' 'Can the South African ministers vaccinated against
it?"
'Against yellow fever, yes. Perhaps even against this viral
strain. But to what end, N3? Remember the sleeping sickness
and Ihassa fever ahd green monkey disease ? Doctor DNA has
a potent arsenal of diseases at his command. It is impossible
to guard against all of them. "
'd better check out Bron Fatrr right away. "





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"Yes, N3, you'd trst do that."
The picture faded to leave me staring at a field of white
snow on the television screen. I turned off the set and began
mentally preparing a cover story to present to D(Xtor Bron
Fatrr.
Or was that mctor DNA?
nie Medical Research Center in Town was housed in
a whitewashed building just off Azalea Street. I circled the
area twice to make sure of the routes in and out, having no
idea at all what to expect. finally satisfied that I could handle
any problems, I walked to the stoep, climtkd the steps and
went inside.
The small office smelled of disinfectant. I felt like I'd
walked into a hospital.
"May I help you?" the woman behind the desk asked in
Afrikaans. She was in her late fifties, gray-haired and with a
ramrod-straight posture. She would have txæn nght at home
on the paradegrounds reviewing the troops.
"I •m a rer»rter, I answered, also in Afrikaans.
O 'American," she said, switching to English.
"Is my accent so bad"' •
S' Your clothing is of the wrong cut. Nothing I can m»int to,
but it is different.
"But I bought it here in Cape Town. "
"Perhaps. then, it's the way you wear it. What can I do for
you?" She had a brusque manner. a no-nonsense way of
spitting out each word. Her came out and
precise, as if she were being graded on her diction.
"I'm with Amalgamated Press and Wire Services, "
' 'Never heard of it. "
"International, out of Washington, D.C.," I continued,
refusing to let her slow me down. ' 'I want to do a feature
article on Ihtor Fatxr.••
she asked, as if the name was unknown to her.
"Bron Fatrr. I've heard good things about his work in
disease. The reading public loves to pick up stories new
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• 'Doctor Fatrr is not in Cape Town."
57
I waited to hear the rest. When nothing came I prompted
her. ' 'Where is be?"
If I'd started pulling her fingernails out with pliers her
expression wouldn 't have tren much different. She wrestled
with whatever orders she'd given and finally relented.
."He is in the north."
"Since this lovely city Town is just at»ut as far
south in Africa as you can get . .
"Cape Agulhas is farthest south," she cut in.
[htor Fatxr t*ing north 't tell me much, ' ' I
finished. I didn't need a geography lesson.
' 'He is working with the animals. "
"In the Kruger Game Preserve?"
"Yes."
A long silence I felt as if we were two wild
tEasts tossed into an arena for some Roman emperor's plea-
sure. We circled each other verbally, testing, probing, wait-
ing for a show of weakness. If the Medical Research Center
was on the up and up, this odd trhavior was inexplicable. On
the other hand, if this was nothing more than a front for
Faber's more dangerous clandestine operations, it gave away
too much. Either way, Fatxr lost.
"Questions such as yours are not normally asked in the
she said, momentarily slipping into Afrikaans.
Union, "
Back in English, she added, "lhis is a close society. It does
not pay to too free with information. 9'
"I'm not with the government. Here are my credentials. "
I flashed a packet of documents at her. All looked legitimate;
all proclaimed me a memtEr of Amalgamated Press and Wire
Services. They'd passed muster by the police. Nothing this
woman could turn on them would show them to tE forgeries.
"Doctor Faber has been troubled by government regula-
tions recently," she said cautiously. "His experiments with
animals have saved numerous species from extinction.
the kind of stuff I want for my feature. "
' 'His methods are being hotly debated."
g 'What methods? I've heard he's a hotshot in the recom-






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binant DNA field. Doctor DNA, he's called." She tensed
slightly, then covered well. wanted to sing and shout. •mat
nickname had applied to Bron Fatpr. I was nearing the
end of my hunt.
g 'l never heard Doctor called that. "
"But he's saving animals with his scientific talents. That
kind of press could take the heat off. Look, this is a touchy
field. In the U.S. the city of Cambridge tried to stop MIT
from establishing a recombinant DNA lab. As a result, they
lost out to Stanford. Advances of staggering magnitudes
come out of there every day, it seems. South Africa was the
first with heart transplants. Mayt* Faber can recapture the
spotlight in medical research, take it away from Stanford.
This can be a dynamite article. "
"Doctor Fatrr does not want such an article written. 'i
Hat, cold. very Germanic in the precision of its delivery.
"A shame. Well, since I 'm here, tell me the Medical
Research Center. "
She smiled. Somehow, it didn't lighten the mood in the
room. Her smile still registered a forty-Erlow on any ther-
mometer.
"The Medical Research Center is a nonprofit group dedi-
cate to the of mankind. We provide free medical
assistance to anyone needing it. Our staff is the best trained in
all of South Africa. We even have branches in Johannesburg
-and Pretoria. "
"Doctor is the founder?"
"Yes. "
I felt as if a door had been slammed in my face. Knowing
I'd gotten all the information I was likely to—and it was
damned little—I left to return to the Springbok Hotel.
Bron Fatw was north. Maybe on the Kruger Game Pre-
serve. He had founded the Medical Research Center. It pro-
vided a nice cover for travel from Johannesburg to Cal*
Town and gave him a reason for shipping items in and out o
the country marked as medical supplies. His work on the





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Kruger Game Preserve allowed him some freedom of move-
ment in a country obsessed with restricting travel.
I had a feeling atk)ut Fat*r. He was the one I wanted.
Between CalE Town and Johannesburg, I changed from a
correspondent for Amalgamated Press and Wire Services to a
medical technician and paramedic. reporter cover had
run its usefulness. To get close to Fatrr through his Medical
Research Center required another sort of wedge. The woman
in Cape Town had been close-mouthed, and I had no reason
to believe I wouldn't run into even more tight-lipped people
in Johannesburg. The entire work force in the Medical Re-
search Center might instructed to clam up when recombin-
ant DNA was mentioned.
Whether that came from the general mood of the country or
from Doctor Bron Fates specific uses of his research re-
mained to be seen. But I'd find out. one way or the other.
The airport was larger than I'd expected. Considering
Johannesburg is the largest city in South Africa, I had little
reason for the surprise. From the air, the city appeared
smaller due to the incredible sprawl of the "suburbs. " The
gold mines of the Witwatersrand hemmed Johannesburg in
on three sides. Huge piles of white debris poured down
mountainsides until it appeared a perpetual snowstorm had
inundated the country. The sunlight glinted off the white dust
mounds and turned them into gigantic crystals. Not even the
sand dunes around Lake Michigan are as spectacular.
Landing at the airport was on the dicey side. Strong winds
buffeted the plane and, when I got off to walk to the terminal
and the inevitable bout with internal customs, the air was
filled with dust reminiscent of the American Dust Bowl.
I'd learned the ropes for getting through cutoms. Wilhel-
mina and Hugo were safely hidden, customs men didn 't
even tx»ther using x-ray equipment. *Iheir searches were
more thorough than any I ever seen before—but I 'd come
prepared.



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Outside the terminal, safe, and ready to find Fatrr, J
stopped for a moment and stared at the skyline. It impressed
me more from the ground than it had from the plane. The
center of the city sported several skyscrarrrs of reslrctable
proportions. Almost two million people squeezed into the
area. Out of that population, someone had to able to give
me a lead on Bron Faber.
And someone would.
"Hey, mister, cab? Avoid the tsotsis."
'S What are those?" I asked the cabbie. He smiled, two
front teeth capped in gold.
"The gangs, mister, the gangs. They are everywhere. You
uy to walk in Johannesburg, you die. They don't call this
Duiwelstad for nothing. 's
Devil City? Crime in any large metror»litan center is bad.
I didn't see any reason why Johannesburg would exempt,
but to hear this man talk, a continual struggle for survival
went on in those seemingly placid streets. Doubting his
word, thinking he was only hustling a foreigner for an extra
buck, I got into the cab.
"Take me to the Hotel Goli. 'i
' 'You got the gold to stay at that place, mister? It mighty
J knew an outright appraisal of my net worth went on
automatically in the man's head. The more he thought I had
on me, the higher the taxi fare would be.
S'Meeting someone there. ' '
w 'He must be very, very rich. " He slammed down the flag
on the meter and roared off. The traffic on the road into the
city grew heavier and heavier as we drove.
"It's a she," I lied. "And she's not toopoor, if you know
what I mean."
"Hey, you lucky man, mister. Lemme give you some
advice. You think I 'rn hustlin' you over the fare; look
around. Don' ever get caught out there. And lock your
door. "
He had turned off the main road and wound around along a




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side road. I closed my eyes for a moment and mentally
projected a map of Johannesburg. I knew approximately
where the Hotel Goli was. This was only a slight deviation
from a straight course, and one that just might be quicker.
ne number of cars on the other street had increased to the
point where traffic jams hapTmed every few bl(Xks.
I glanced out after I 'd assured myself I wasn 't being taken
for a ride—in senses of the word. The sight sickened
me. Blacks close to starving to death lined the road, hands
held out for anything their way. Groups of youths
congregated on street comers in the fashion of teen-agers
everywhere. But the difference was in the way they held
themselves. These weren't amateur punks; these kids had
gone all the way to pro.
' This is a rich city, mister," called the driver, sweating
due to all the windows being rolled up. "But two thirds are
black and most all of them—us—are dirt pcx)r,."
"Aren't there any jobs? The gold mines are flourishing.
Those are the richest mines in the world!"
"Hard to get jobs. Too many workers, not enough dig-
ging. Besides, many of the men don't want to leave their
families. "
"What's that got to do with it?"
"They work in mine, they live in compound. Like that
one. Over there."
San Quentin looked more apr*aling. The compound had
barbed wire in double banks around it, whether to keep
people in or out I couldn't tell.
"Shift usually lasts three months at a mine. Then a miner
gets to go home and see his family. They don 't want nobody
smuggling out their precious gold, no sir. "
In this counuy , it was hard to deternine who was the good
guy and who was the enemy. I settled back and tried to blank
out all around me. Finding Faber headed my list of priorities.
In fact, it was the only item on my list.
Still, checking into the Hotel Goli disquieted me. This was
luxury light years beyond anything I'd seen on the trip out




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here from the airport. I wondered if the cabbie gave all his
passengeß the grand tour.
The address for the Johannesburg branch of the Medical
Research Center etched firmly in my mind, I set off walking
in the early aftemoon. I'd been penned up too long and
needed the exercise, Besides ülat, I wanted a go«i, firsthand
look at Johannesburg. lhe streets of downtown Johannes-
burg were filled with looking men and women,
mostly white. As I walked due south. their numbers thinned
and I came to more residential sections of the city. Fine brick
buildings, some stone houses, akl with neatly kept and mani-
cured lawns and gardens, made me think of the ritziest
suburbs in the U.S. The small parks dotting the area were
miniature paradises. ne flowas bloomed profusely and
their odors were stronger than Johannesburg had
another side to its coin that the cab driver hadn't shown me.
And Faber's Medical Research Center rested in the middle
of this splendor.
Whatever else Bron Faber did, he played tx»th ends against
the middle well. Sam Uwanatk had praised him as aiding
SWAFO guemllas injured in battle. To put a clinic in this
neighborhood required high fees not likely to be paid by
injured Namibians.
*Well, well, well, ' ' carne the clipped words ofa teen-ager
sitting on a low stone fence. *'What have we here?"
J kept walking.
"You, I'm talking to you.' •
Turning to face him, I gave him a quick once over, He was
sturdy, big&ned. strong. The protruding ridges over his
eyes Jent him a Neanderthal appearance and the stubby fin-
gers drumming against the rock wall showed that he was
keyed up. Drugs, maybe. I couldn•t see if his pupils were
dilated. I guessed that they were.
'So talk, I 'm listening .
. if you have anything to say. "
"A brave one. You talk big, bucko, for sorneone trespas-
sing on Rudders' turf. "





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' 'And what's a rud&r? Something to a tX)at? " I grew
tired of this battle of wits. My oppment was already out of
ammunition.
"Stop!" I kept walking. Only when heard the telltale
snick of an 0Fning switchblade did I stop and face him
again.
He held the blade in front of him, the butt end of the handle
firmly pressed into palm of his hand. He knew how to use
the knife, even if he had picked a switchbla&. Most switch-
blades are made of a low-quality steel and aren 't much go«i
for serious fighting. The sight and sound of the long blade
flicking open at the of a button is supposal to scare
most p«yple into submission.
I wasn't in the least
' 'I'm for the MalicaJ Research Center," I said.
For a moment. the punk's face clouded in confusion. This
wasn't tlr way I was suppsed to act. Frightened, yes.
Macho, maytE. But never.
"I'm gonna cut you gxxi. You're on Rudders' turf. "
"You said that. What are the Rudders? Some sort of
"We're the tsotsi around. Killed one damn big
bunch of scumbags, we have.
"How nice for you. Where's the Medical Research
Center? I'm a lmking for a job. "
"You can start work on yourself!"
His lunge was clumsy. ne long, shiny blade passed
harmlessly to my right side as spun. With a deceptively
gentle grip on his knife hand, I turned back and jerked. His
feet left the ground as his ann tried to Ernd around on itself. I
held his arm aloft as his bcxiy fell. A loud popping noise
echoed down the silent street as his shoulder tore apart. ne
knife fell from lifeless fingers.
"You broke me arm, you bastard!"
'Probably only dislæated. You did say I should go out
*looking fcy patients. Want me to set it for you?"
He started bellowing at the top of his lungs. I didn't





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recognize the words. A distress code summoning the other
Rudders, maybe. My foot connected squarely with the pint
of his jaw. I broke the jawtK)ne and shut him up. He went
down in a lump.
I Sd acted too late. Almost a dozen young thugs came from
all over, like amy ants swarming into a termite nest. I didn't
see any guns. Wilhelmina stayed in her shoulder holster. I
wanted to avoid a loud confrontation, if at all pssible.
"Watchadotal*nji?" mumbled a youth who like
the clone of the one I Sd disabled. I slowly translated to,
"What did you do to Benji?"
'I'm a rn«lic and was just passing by. I heard him call out
for help. He was like that . .
"Lying bastard, snapr*d one me. I sidesteppai
as he lunged past. He tried to slash me with his knife. He was
high on something, too. His coordination was off, and he
missed by inches.
'Look , guys, I 'm just passing through. I want the Medical
Research Center headquarters. you know Doctor
Faber? He runs the Center. Their reaction me by
surprise. They all backed off. ney still ringed me in, but
they weren't attacking, I'd take any respite while consid-
ered the best way of getting away from the gang.
"You know Fat*r? " asked the one with greasy blond hair.
He spoke with enough confidence for me to peg him as their
leader. "You don't look like the type.
"The type?" I asked. "I'm looking for work as a medic
with Doctor FatEr. Do you work for him?"
"Work? He sells us dagga," cried the blond.
Doctor Faber's empire extended to many things. Illicit
repair work on SWAPO guerrillas. Recombinant DNA re-
search. Saving endangered species. Maybe extorting the
government of South Afnca out of millions worth of strategic
metals using some of the deadliest diseases in the world. Now
this punk said he got his marijuana from the good doctor. If
nothing else, Bron Faber led a checkered and exciting life. I
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"You boys shouldn't tr out in your condition. Are all of
you high?' I glancei around the circle. ne ones that weren 't
wired out of their skulls had severe problems in other ways.
All looked like killers. •me vacant stare, the tensed, hyped-
up movements, the sight of the knives still in their hands all
led me to think getting away might prove more difficult than
I'd thought.
Talk wasn't going to do it for me.
I hadn't given the code designation of Killmaster for
nothing. I move fast. Three of the punks were out on the
pavement the others knew what This gave
me enough tiffE to sprint across the small park. I 'd hoped the
Rudders would tire fast and forget the hunt.
"Ihey didn 't. ney came on, whcx)ping and screaming like
savages. I remembered the black gangs I 'd seen on the way
into Johannesburg from the airport. The white gang intent on
slicing me into bloody ribbons differed only in race.
Ihe park was more extensive than I'd thought. Tiny
streams meandered through a small stand Of trees. I dived for
cover there, thinking I 'd dc»ble back and leave behind the six
teen-agers hunting for me. ney knew the terrain better than I
did. One for me, knife held low and in front.
I didn •t break snide. I feinted to the right with my body,
kicked hard, and batted the knife away. A punch to the throat
took my assailant out.
' 'There he is. He croaked Jesse! Kill the bastard. Kill
him!"
I ran again, taking off at an easy lope. the only
words the Rudders knew were, "Kill the bastard!" Their
education had been inadequate. Somehow, though, I knew
that these kids had gone to the best of schools, had never
missed a meal, and were as stinking rich as they were bored
'with life.
Social theory isn 't my long suit. How a society generates
youth gangs in the ghetto seems obvious; poverty, lack of
jobs, lack of money, lead to boredom and violence. Why it
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financial spectrum is beyond me. These weren't disadvan-
taged kids. These were upper-class youths. And all were
intent on killing me I 'd walked down their precious
street.
One good thing came out of my headlong flight. sighted
the Medical Research Center three or four blocks away. I
considered running there and begging for asylum, then de-
cided against it. When I presented myself, I didn't want to
explain why I'd left a string of broken bodies behind me. A
real medic break jaws and dislocate shoulders; he
fixes them.
"Stop, you bloody bastard!" screamed the blond. He
crashed into me when I did exactly as he'd commanded.
He went cartwheeling over my shoulder as I dropped into a
neatly executed seoinage. Ihe shoulder throw has never
a favorite of mine, but the opportunities to use it crop up all
the time. Anyone with an arrn nailing in the air is a perfect
target. In the blond punk's case. he waved that knife wildly
enough for me to slip in under it. shove my shoulder into his
armpit and simply turn. Ihe laws of physics and judo did the
rest.
I turned to the blond leader of the pack, and said, "Look,
idiots I 'm fed up with this. I haven •t hurt any of you—not yet.
But that's coming to an end fast. Either call off your dogs or I
get tough."
"Get him!" screamed the blond. I broke his arm, then
turned to the remaining Rudders.
They thought they had me. Even if twice their
couldn •t touch me, these out-of breath, over-eager, would-be
killers thought they had a chance. Two rushed me from
opposite sides. ducked. grabbed an extended arm, and
kicked backward. My heel landed in the pit of one 's stomach.
I twisted the arm until a howl of agony sounded sweetly in my
ears. Not slowing a bit, I spun again, broke one punk's
attempted stranglehold on my neck, and kneed him in the
balls.
After all that, the last one still came on. I don't know





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whether it was a matter of honor, stupidity, or just tring
stoned out of his bead. It didn •t matter. One on one, he didn 't
have a snowball 's chance in hell against me. I down
on his foot. When he reacted. I spun, drove my into his
stomach, then snapr:rd my fist back and into his face. He fell
like a ton of tricks.
I glanced out over the again-rmceful park. Here and there
txxiies slowly writhed in pain. It hardly seemed possible a
major battle had teen fought and won here in the past few
minutes. Both Wilhelmina and Hugo had remained silent
Ünroughout,
As I walked off, heading back into the center of Johannes-
burg, heard sirens. I picked up the pace but didn 't
run. The flaring blue lights atop the small police cars turned
the darkening landscape into an eerie, alien scene. Whatever
happened next, I felt safe. 'Ihe FX)lice would never believe
one man had done all that to a gang of toughs. They 'd look for
another tsotsi.
While the afternoon and early evening had tren hectic, it
had been trneficial, tcx». The brief workout had loosened up
my muscles, I felt fit as a fiddle, I'd found the medical
Research Center, and I was now ready to take on Bron Faber.













CHAPTER FIVE
Neariy getting myself sliced into prime ribs had been
insü•ucti ve in many ways. This city carried a strong undercur-
rent of violence to it that didn't surface with only a casual
examination. The crime rate soared sky high and the police
failed to cope with it. even with their crime swoops and their
patrolling the borders of the
Even the parts of town were dangerous, as I 'd found
out.
It had been a smar move on my part changing my cover to
medic from reporter. No one would have talked to me if I'd
poked around asking a lot of reporter questions. It had been
bad enough declaring myself a peaceful, noncombatant
medic seeking gainful employment.
This time I took a taxi out to the Medical Research Center.
As we drove past the park where I 'd done battle with the gang
of punks the day t*fore, it struck me how placid it all looked.
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No one would have guessed that I'd put down ten or so of a
tsotsi.
lhe clinic floated along like a bubble on a peaceful rx)nd.
The tranquility it radiated came in stark contrast to the vio-
lence I knew t»iled all around it. What struck me even more
forcibly was the knowledge that Bron Faber supplied to
the gangs in the neightx)rhood.
"Good morning," I said to the receptionist. She was
everything the woman in Cape Town hadn't Small,
petite, a green-eyed blond, she hovered on that thin edge
trtween the stunningly reautiful and the breath-takingly
gorgeous. FatEr had first-class taste.
"May I help you?" Even her voice came as music to my
ears. Soft, sweet, a voice that caressed and promised. I
took a deep breath and tried to settle down. ms was
business.
• 'I •m Nick Carter, a medic from England. I hoped I might
find the director of the Medical Research Center in. I'm
applying for a job."
She never batted an eye at my claim of tring from Eng-
land. I put on just enough of a British accent to make it
credible.
"I'm sorry," she said, glancing up at me. "We
. we
don't need any paramedics at this time. If you Sd only come
last week. I)octor needed an assistant for his work out
on the Kruger Game Preserve. "
' 'Doctor Fatrr?" said. "Is he the head man?."
"Yes, and such a fine doctor, 'i she said. My estimation of
her dropped a little. obvious hero worship in her voice
told of a crush on the mam I didn •t even know what Bron
Faber looked like and already I had him marked as a deadly
enemy. I'd hope this lovely blond would have seen through
his faqade to the darker side of his nature.
lhen again, I still didn •t know that Fat*r and Doctor DNA
were one and the same. simply assumed it.
"l 've heard of his work. With endangered species. It must






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be interesting working with a man who's sure to be nomi-
nated for a Nobel Prize one day. "
"You think he will? Oht he so deserves it," she gushed.
She leaned back in her swivel chair. The crisp starched white
uniform did nothing to hide very womanly curves. The day
was a bit hotter than the weather forecast had predicted, and
she wore the uniform unbuttoned a very unnurselike two
buttons to reveal a warm surge of breast. The woman seemed
oblivious to my examination of her, so great was her en-
thusiasm for Dr. Fatkr.
"Even in England we've heard of his recombinant DNA
work. With insects, wasn't it?"
"Insects and diseases of the animals in the park. He's
isolated several of the most virulent strains. And
. oh,
I'm not to mention his work." She actually
blushed. It had teen years since I'd found a woman who
blushed.
"Why not?"
"He is such a modest man. He doesn't like to boast or
carry on about his contributions. "
"But they 're such big contritm*tions!" I protested. "The
genetic engineering work has altered tsetse flies to able to
control them."
"You've heard that? Ohs marvelous. In a paper?
He's finally released that to the scientific journals?"
I nodded and went on.
"And look at these clinics, The Medical Research Center
in Cape Town does wonderful charity work. "
g EWe do here, too, though we're some distance from the
nearest location," she said solemnly. She really believed
everything she said. You can fcx»l some of the people all of
the time. "lt's difficult getting into the lcxations outside
Johannesburg. Chief Kaiser Mantanzima .
' 'Mantanzima?' '
"In the Transkei location for the Xhosa," she quickly
explained. It didn't do me any good. "The Chief positively




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refuses to allow us in to examine his Disease is rife
there. It's awful."
"l know something else that's awful," I said.
• 'What's that?"
"We've talking for almost five minutes and J don't
know your name. Again she blushed. I thought it made her
even prettier. It also made me wonder how she'd respond to
an indecent proposal. susl*cted she would stare in confu-
Sion and distklief, then decide no one could so crude as to
assume that two consenting adults ever did that.
"I'm Erica der Klerk. " She stood to shake hands. I took
another deep breath and wished for a cold shower. too. Her
white-stocking encased legs more than matched the TErfec-
tion of the rest of her body. I found it increasingly difficult to
keep my mind on Bron Fat*r. the man planted such a
lovely blond lady out front for just that very reason.
Erica der Klerk proved an excellent diversion.
"Most pleased to meet you," I said, sincenty ringing in
the words. *'And I'd really tx in your det* if you could tell
me where I might find a job, if Itkrtor Fatrr isn 't hiring right
now.
"Well, " she said, her gaze growing tX)lder as she studied
me, 'SDoctor has his assistant for the Kruger Game
Preserve, but we might need some help around here. I do hate
to tx)ther him about such things. I 'm supposed to the office
manager. "
"You 're not a nurse?"
am, but hardly ever get a chance to use my skills, "
said Erica. "So much haprrns here that I seldom get to
actually work with the patients.
"Paper work, you mean?"
'*That is awful. " she said, laying a delicate hand on my
forearm. As if she realized she'd taken some litrrty, she
pulled away as if scalded. I hadn 't minded at all. "But," she
continued, "the ordering. the shipping. the day-to-day
ation and coordinating patients and doctors is what takes the
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"Shipping?" asked lightly.
73
' 'Nothing much," she said. I thought a tinge of blush
colored her cheeks again. S •mctor Faber ships a lot of
material Centers. We're the largest here in Johan-
nestlirg, Town facility handles overseas de-
liveries."
"And outgoing shipments?"
"Why, yes. Lately we've had a considerable amount of
medicines going to Namibia. "
nere wasn't any way to disguise metal ore as medicine,
unless managed to get the F*rmits and official ckxu-
ments, then alter them to get the strategic metals out of the
country. With the hold he had on the various ministers, I
doubted he needed to do much fancy shuffling around.
And then again, he didn't want the ministers he
threatened to know the destination of the shipments.
"l certainly admire Ihctor Faber's setup here. 'i
0' You do, eh? " came a deeply resonant voice from behind.
I turned and faced a man slightly taller than me and weighing
ten or fifteen pounds less. The name tag on the white lab coat
read "Faber. "
This was my man.
All I needed now was concrete evidence that he was
Doctor DNA.
s 'I certainly do, mctor Fatrr. And I 'm not just saying that
to get a job. "
"Wouldn't hurt if you were." He smiled disarmingly. I
thought I could like him a lot. His warmth and outgoing
manner lulled any suspicion I had of him. Yet the pieces to
this deadly puzzle were too sharply defined, too precise, too
damning. While it was all circumstantial evidence mixed in
with a lot of guesswork on my part, I'd my life he had
killed at least four South African ministers of state and had
sent the Bantu to kill me atx)a.rd The Easy Ride.
To kill with virulent diseases long thought under control.
I repressed a shudder at the memory of Dieter Karlik
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74
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the yellow fever he'd tren infected with.
'Your Ms. der Klerk has painted such a glowing picture of
your work that I'd tempted to volunteer my services. "
"But?" he prompted, hazel eyes twinkling.
' 'Butl 'd starve to death. I really do need a job that pays. "
"We can't offer much, but and board can part of
the deal. Would that suit you?"
"Yes! " I didn •t need to hide my enthusiasm. To be able to
stay here on the premises proved an extra bonus.
"Do you have a medical degree?" he asked. • 'I need to
know how much work I can squeeze from you. "
"I had two years of medical school, but the exFEnse drove
me to find work. I couldn't earn enough to pay for tuition
without working hours so long that studying impos-
sible. "
"So you 've had two years. What else?"
• 'I worked as a paramedic for several years in New York
City. "
"That explains the slight trace of American accent. "
I was happy I tossed in that part atx»ut working in America.
Faber was no one 's fool , whether he was Ihtor DNA or not.
I 've run across border patrol officers who can tell every place
a person has lived simply by listening to a few sentences.
neir skill borders on the uncanny. In a country like South
Africa where so many foreigners come and go due to the
extensive mining operations, the locals a good ear
for accents, too. ear was trtter than most. I'm good
when I put on an accent; the British pronunciations came
easily to me, also, In spite of that, he'd picked out the faint
remains of American English.
"Can't say I'm happy you picked up on it. My time in
America was not the best of times for me. "
S 'Oh?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. ' 'Why not? live
found the United States a pleasant enough place the few times
I've been there. "
' 'The people, 'i I said without hesitation. ' s They have such
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'S Well, yes, there is that, " he conceded. "But top-notch
medical facilities. Let's go check out a few patients and see
how you do."
"Thanks, Ihior Fatpr. "
"Don't thank me yet. I haven't hired you. But you might
do nicely. if your medical skills are honed f'
"l think he will do marvelously," piped up Erica der
Klerk.
As Fater and I went into the back of the clinic, I flashed the
blond my most winning smile.
"This clinic doesn 't have the emergency cases the
Town Center d(ES. I cater mostly to the prob-
lems."
"Such a fine neightx)rhood," I said. ' 'Looks very pros-
perous. Hard to believe there are problems of any sort here. ' '
"lhere are," he said, a touch of grimness entering his
tone. "Drug addiction is rampant. ne well-to-do children
are bored. They have too much time and money. Rather than
channel their natural energies into constructive areas, they
buy drugs and experiment with them."
you handle many natives here?"
"I go out to the I(ration once a week, when I'm in
Johannesburg. Sad out there, very sad. But no, we don't see
many natives."
I hoped that I wouldn't have to perform anything tryond
my first-aid training skills. lhe examination room was com-
pact and probably well stocked with drugs and equipment. I
didn't know. AXE trains its agents to patch themselves up
enough to keep going until the mission is completed, nothing
more. I 've closed my own wounds with staple guns and even
epoxy glue. I doubted if Doctor Fatkr would approve of those
as even rough-and-ready first-aid techniques in his sterile
clinic.
' 'It seems, Mr. Carter, that my patient has flown the coop.
The old gentleman was sitting here waiting for me when I
went to speak to Miss der Klerk. We 'II have to pstpone your
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comes in. I'll be around. Just acquaint yourself with the
facility. I felt a surge of paranoia. He had used my name.
We'd never Iken introduced. He must have tren eavesdrop-
ping on the conversation J had with Erica der Klerk. Fatrr
left me wondering if he I was more than a simple
paramedic. He'd given me carte blanche to snoop around.
Did he intend for me to use that freedo.m to dig through
drawers and seek out damning evidence?
Did such evidence even exist here?
I compromised by looking over the rcx)m, trying to impress
details on my mind. I also made every effort to find any place
that might conceal the evidence needed against the man, but
didn 't pry too far into them. That would come later, when I
was sure I was alone.
A tiny moan rattled from the far closet. At first I thought
I'd mistaken the soft breeze blowing for a human sound.
When the moan came again. I knew I wasn •t wrong. Opening
the closet door produced an unexpected result. A man atX)ut
sixty years old fell out backwards to sprawl onto the tiled
floor.
His face was gray and his breathing nonexistent.
O'Doctor Faber!" I shouted, dropping trside the man on
the floor. S'lhctor Faber!"
I immediately began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I blew
in, inflated the lungs and let the chest action naturally expel
.the air. I did this three times. then began work on his chest.
Hard pressure over the heart, release, pressure, release.
I shouted for Farrr again,
Erica der Klerk came in.
' 'Mr. van Riebeeck!" she cried.
"l think he's had a heart attack. Do you know what to
do?"
"Where's Doctor Faber?" she asked.
"l don't know. I-Eft for an hour. It doesn't matter. This
guy needs help---now! And we have to give it to him. Help
me."
"Keep going on the chest," she said. "I 'II take over the





77
mouth-to-mouth. " The thought flashed through my mind
what a lucky stiff this van Rieteeck was. Then the pun hit
me. He would a stiff if I didn 't get down to serious work.
Erica and I coordinated our efforts well. I felt feeble heart
action starting and the man's breathing ragged. His
t»dy res'x)nded to our ministrations.
Erica leaned back on her heels. her skirt pulled taut around
her firm thighs. She looked like a real angel, her blond hair in
disarray around her face and shoulders.
"Who is this?"
"Mr. van Ri&eck was the patient scheduled for nine. I
thought he'd left. "
"Falxr thought so, t(X). I found him in the closet. "
"The closet?" Erica turned and looked at the door. "God,
no! He must have thought it was the water closet. "
"And he had a heart attack and fell in. His fumblings to get
out must have closed the door trhind him," I finished.
"Sounds incredible."
"Mr. van Rietreck's eyesight isn't the tESt, nor is he
physically strong, " she said.
"We don't dare leave him alone. Can you handle him
while I .go find Doctor Faber?" I asked the woman. She
nodded. I hadn*t gotten ten feet down the hall when Fatxr
came striding up to me. I hastily explained what had hap-
pened. He shoved past me and rushed into the room.
I'll give him this. He worked quickly and efficiently.
Every order he gave us was sharp, precise, and clear. He
made no mistakes. Erica got him a heart needle of lydocaine
while I fitted an oxygen mask over van Rietreck 's nose and
mouth. In a few minutes, the old man breathed more easily
and color came back into his face.
' 'Miss der Klerk, get an ambulance here to transfer him to
Voortrekker Hospital. They have the facilities there for car-
ing for him. s' 'Ihe doctor steppd-back and wiped a single
of sweat from his upper lip. *Ihroughout, he had re-
mained cool. The perspiration was the only. sign that he'd
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life, Carter. I wanted an example of your skill. I have it.
You're hired."
' Thanks. "
S 'Thank you. You saved a man's life. "
"That •s important in the medical field, '9 | said, watching
Fater closely.
"As in all things. nothing is absolute. Sometimes it is
necessary to sacrifice the healthy for the greater good, but in
this instance, you performed admirably. "
"Will you go with him to the hospital, Doctor?" asked
Erica.
"I'd better. Mr. van Rietreck's condition is still unsta-
ble."
"And he 's very wealthy, " said Erica under her breath so
that only could hear.
"You two can run the Center without me. Miss der Klerk
will show you the Carter. And good work, both of
With that. Bron Faber and the ambulance attendants took
the stricken man out and loaded him into the meat wagon.
Sirens blared and the ambulance raced off for downtown
Johannesburg.
'*It's been an exciting day. Usually emergencies don't
happen at the Center, " said Erica, tidying up her desk. Her
fingers lightly caressed the papers and almost hesitantly
pushed the work into folders.
s 'Do you always close the Center so early?" I asked. It was
a few minutes befor five o'clock.
' 'Our business comes during the day i Doctor Fat*r, when
he's in Johannesburg, will return during the evenings. I've
never seen how busy it is then. 't
"He handles it ail by himself?"
"Of course. He's very good," she declared positively. I
saw that Erica der Klerk had a very strong case of hero
worship going with Fatrr. With a little luck and some smarts,
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wondered if she realized he came back to the Center to sell
marijuana to the neightMhood gangs? As far as I could tell,
the Medical Research Center existed solely to bolster Fat:rr's
cash flow. He r*ddled dope, he duped rich patients into
paying exorbitant sums for very little—and he used the
Center as a cover for his shipping activities.
I still had no concrete proof he was Ihtor DNA. I 'd
worked my way through the clinic and had turned up nothing.
The man kept very strict records of all transactions—the legal
ones. In the Union, the police might seize records at any
time. If Faber's illicit activities extended to extortion, he'd
hardly keep records of it here in Johannesburg.
My tEt was that the real evidence existed out in the veldt,
out at his wildlife research latx»ratory in the Kruger Game
Preserve.
"I 'm very glad I 'II working with Doctor Fatrr, " I said.
nen, softer, "And with you, Erica. You're very pretty. "
Her green eyes locked with mine. This time she didn't
blush, even though it was apparent our thoughtsvere pretty
much the same. Her breath came in short, quick pants that
caused her breasts to rise and fall in the most seductive
manner possible. Somehow, that third button on her uniform
came undone. Creamy white breast flowed up and threatened
to come spilling out.
I would 've caught it. My fingers ached to stroke over those
smooth mounds. Maybe it was the surroundings that got to
me as much as Erica's beauty. It had a long time since
I'd played doctor.
"Wh-why don •t you come back to my flat? I c-can fix us
she said. The slight stutter txtrayed her real in-
supper, "
terest.
"I'd be delighted."
We left, hips brushing. nis small friction sent both our
heart rates soaring. I felt it and I know Erica did. I saw a tiny
vein in her swanlike throat pulse and throb. By the time we
reached her apartment. about three miles away, just on the
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would late. After we'd finished making love.
She closed the door and spun around, slipping into the
circle of my arms. I 'd had Erica as being the shy type.
There was nothing demure at:out the way she kiesed me. She
might blush but she knew what she wanted and how to go
about getting it.
Her lips parted slightly allowing my tongue to surge for-
ward. I moved over her tender lips, then snaked into her oral
cavity. Our tongues rnet and caressed, sliding past one
another. Breath coming hard, I tEgan flicking my tongue
against the tip of hers. When our tongues begm playing
hide and seek, dashing back and forth, my hands trgan to
wander.
Up and down her back felt the crisp, starched white
uniform. It had to go. I worked down to her womanly hips,
felt the flare of her rump, the meaty slabs, and
squeezed. She moved closer, her tx»dy grinding passionately
into mine.
My hands worked forward, then up. Her trlt came off.
nen I undid the three buttons remaining fastened on the
uprrr half of her uniforn. With a sigh, she broke contact
our mouths and stepped back.
"Oh, Nick, this is going to so good.'
"I know," I said. I didn't want conversation. My eyes
worked over her body as she shrugged her shoulders. Her
uniform top dropped to her waist. With a sinuous wiggle that
sent waves of desire pulsating through me, she rid of her
entire uniform. It lay in a pile around her slender ankles.
Erica stepped forward and away, clad only in bra, panties,
garter belt, and stockings. The lady sure knew how to dress
underneath. It was in stark contrast to the crisp, white uni-
form of moments before.
"You •re over-dressed," she accused. ' 'Let me do some-
thing about that. ' ' And she did. As her nimble fingers worked
over my clothes, I unhooked her bra. The woman Ss conical
breasts spilled forth. I held one in each hand, as if judging
their weight. More than ample was my instant evaluauon.




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ne penny-colored nipples hardened from both the sudden
exposure to the air and pure, simple lust.
We waltzed around, pulling and tugging at one another. I
had her bra and panties off and tried to work down the garter
and white cotton sgockings. She gently removed my hand
and said, ' 'Leave them.
1 did.
We flowed together like two streams running into a larger,
more vital river. Our mouths worked hard and our bodies
pressed close. Erica turned into a real tiger. She was totally
unlike the shy, reserved, blushing woman working in the
Medical Research Center.
"Now, Nick, take me now. Do it now"'
There wasn't any way to refuse her. We slipped down-
ward, gravity exerting its pull on our interwined bodies.
Somehow, the Ird appeared under us. It wouldn't have
mattered. We were both so turned on the floor would have
sufficed. I felt her stocking-clad legs scissoring on either side
of my tX)dy. I was glad she had insisted on leaving them on.
This was sexier than I'd have imagined possible.
Those wonderous, slim legs of hers parted wantonly. Her
dextrous fingers found my hardened length and tugged me
toward her center. Dampness greeted me, then warrn, cling-
ing flesh. I sank full-length into her core. We tX)th gasped at
the intrusion.
For an instant I thought she was having some kind of fit.
Her body went under me. But it was only need,
desire, stark lust. She arched her back and rotated her hips to
e my hardness all the way into her depths. With this
elightful urging, my own hips began to respond. Slowly at
first, then with gathering momentum, I didn 't seem to able
o give her enough. Erica was insatiable.
Then, like a string pulled too taut, she broke. Her sexual
aking pushed my own control to the limit. I'd thought I
ould rest for a moment, but Erica wouldn •t have any of it. If
ything, I'd only whetted her appetite. She wanted more.
nd she got it.
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Firm, smooth. I stroked. ne lovely blond moaned and
her words turning incoherent. But as she approached
another climax, she grated out from between clenched teeth,
"Yes, Bron, oh yes, take me. I need you, Bron my love.
She fantasized another lover—Bron Fat*r.
I finished in a rush, with Erica wildly clawing and moaning
all the while. We lay panting, drenched with sweat, on the
clutching each other.
"You're quite a surprise, Erica," I told her.
"Surprise? How is that?" She snuggled closer, her hot
breath gusting through the hair on my chest. Her teeth gently
nipped and bit as her tongue stroked and teased.
"This you is so different from the cool, at-work you."
it's difficult when I'm at the Center. "
"With him around?" She tensed. I held her close and
refused to let her flee. She soon subsided and snuggled even
closer. if that was possible.
"Yes. "came a tiny voice. ' 'I know I can never have him.
But I think it a lot. I'm not good enough for him. And
now he's going to marry that bitch from the Netherlands. "
'Who's that?" I asked, stroking her hair gently. Her own
fingers worked much lower over my body. I felt stimngs of
desire for her again.
"Alleen something or other. "
"Never say that you're not good enough for
You're as good as Alleen," I told her. "You might make
better time with Doctor Fatxr if you'd relax around him. "
"l can't. I Sve tried, but I can't."
The armchair psychoanalysis that flashed through my
mind told me the sad story. Erica's hero worship of Faber
prevented her from getting close to him. Instead, she went to
with any man who came along and fantasized that he was
Fat*r. ems didn't do much for my ego. but then; exciting
though Erica was, I had brought her here for information. A
spy must use all the tools of the trade—and sometimes sex is
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A great deal more than feelings were at stake. If I
failed, no government in the world would safe from the
extortion threats offered by Ihtor DNA.
' 'Why don 't you transfer up to the Kruger Game Preserve
Center?" I asked. S Tat seems to be where he most
of his time. Being around would show him how much you
care for him. "
8' This doesn't bother you, my talking about Bron?"
"Not at all, Erica. In fact, I'd love to get up to the Preserve
myself. Sounds like a great research opportunity. Saving
endangered researching diseases. "
Her silence told me she was thinking, as well as playing
with me. I rolled onto my back to allow her to continue both
undisturtkd. Erica finally said, 'I can get you transferred up
there, if you want."
"I'd hate to leave you, but. .
" I let the sentence hang.
had to give her the chance to make all the right decisions on
her own. I was positive she thought that getting rid of me by
sending me out to the veldt would worthwhile. She'd
blurted out her secret love for Fat*r. Get rid of me, get rid of
a challenge to her fantasy world.
' 'You 're good in t*d," she said after a long time. "About
the trst. "
' 'It might complicate things if I stayed around. 1 don't
want to make you choose me and Doctor FatEr. " In
her mind, there could be no real decision. The fantasy lover
always came out on top over a real one. I sensed that it had
happened in the past with Erica der Klerk and would hapl*n
again in the future.
' 'It's not that, Nick. You do want to work in the veldt? It's
away from civilization and Doctor Faber's researches are
very dangerous. "
"I want to help him however I can. "
Lightning didn't strike me, which was just as well. With
the blond coiled around my tX)dy, it would have gotten her,
too. Her eager mouth worked all over. I moaned. I hoped she
decided to put through the request to ship me out to the
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Kruger Game Preserve Center soon. This was both exciting
and tiring dealing with her.
"I 'II see to it in the morning. "
It was a long, hard night. But sometimes the life of an
undercover agent is actually spent undercovers. Delightfully










CHAPTER SIX
It might have been my death warrant Erica der Klerk
signed for all the enthusiasm she showed. With a flourish,
she finished the paperwork on my transfer from the Johan-
nesburg Medical Research Center to the research station
Bron Faber maintained out in the veldt.
"I 'm sorry to see you go so soon, Nick, " she said softly,
her eyes dewy. "It's tren . . . good
"Very good, Erica," I said, meaning it. But my mind
already traveled ahead to the Kruger Game Preserve and
Faber's facilities there. I •d contacted Hawk and told him of
my progress. He told me to move faster. Doctor DNA had
made outrageous claims against the government of South
Africa and had killed three more top officials to reinforce his
demands. Two had gone via yellow fever and the last had
tren murdered with some quick-acting disease that remained
as yet unidentified. even by the experts at the Center for
Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia. The man stricken with
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the disease had seemed to melt. his flesh turning into putty.
Along with the flesh went the nervous system. He 'd virtually
shaken himself to death.
Stopping mctor DNA became even more irnvrrative.
And I 'd put all my eggs in one basket. I went on instinct as
much as anything else. My hunch that Bron Fat*r was
responsible was just that, a hunch. If this lead didn •t pan out,
I was back to square one. And time was running out.
"l hope you don 't mind me saying what I did to you. " she
said suddenly. I looked into her green eyes. She blushed.
"What do you mean?"
' 'About Doctor having a new assistant. He tells me
to say that to all the people coming to look for work. He really
does need an assistant. "
"Maybe you should clear this with him," suggested.
"Wouldn't want you getting into trouble with him.
"Oh, no, Nick, thereis no problem. already spoke with
him. He was very impressed with your quick thinking. Mr.
van Riebeeck is doing nicely. They expect him to out of
the intensive care unit in another few days. He's going to
just fine, thanks to you."
Erica's words bothered me. She'd already spoken to
Faber. and he'd cleared my "promotion to assistant out on
the veldt. Was this just a convenient way of getting rid of me?
Nöho's going to question a lion at»ut dinner? Especially if
you think that dinner's been a human? Still. my job required
me to go into this with my eyes wide open.
"So all I have to do is catch the Center's plane?"
*'Yes, Nick. It's parked at the far end of the airport. " She
went back to shuffling papers, then looked up, unshed tears
in her eyes. "Give me a call now and then.
"I will. And I 'II let you know how he's doing." This
pleased her more than anything else. Fantasies are more real
than reality itself to some people.
The small plane emblazoned with the Medical Research
Center insignia of the entwined DNA double helix circled the





87
Kruger Game Preserve airfield, then spiraled down. I blinked
in the bright sunlight and tried to shake the misconceptions I
had about Africa. As a kid I'd loved the old Tarzan movies,
espcially the ones stamng Buster Crabtr. Swinging through
the jungles on a vine, giving out his yell, wrestling the killer
male lion—all of it was bunk.
Technically, there aren't any jungles in Africa. There are
only rain forests, and in this part of the continent it's mostly
dry veldt, with plains stretching to the horizon. Further to the
south and west is the Kalahari, one of the most arid regions on
earth. Next, the famous yell was a composite; no single man
ever gave it in the movies. Finally, the male lion is almost a
parasite. ne female lions do the killing while the male
watches and then reaps the rewards.
None of the reality took away from my feelings. Africa.
Birthplace of humankind. Far to the north was the Olduvai
Gorge. Zebras and giraffes and leopards and gemstx)k raced
those plains, animals extinct in all other parts of the world
and bordering on vanishing even here.
Here also was Bron Faber's research center, miles from the
nearest civilized outpost. The compound had been patterned
after a native kraal, making it more of a family unit than a
city. lhe few buildings all fastened together with walkways
or shared walls, giving the of an extended family
arrangement.
ne plane landed, taxied and came up to the end of the
runway. The taciturn pilot gestured for me to get out. I did.
He spun the single-engine plane around and took off. I was
left behind in a cloud of choking dust.
"Well, some reception," I said to myself. lhe buildings
were almost a half-mile distant. d hefted my single bag and
started walking. Halfway there, a snorting noise froze me in
my tracks.
I 'd heard similar sounds trfore when I 'd huntedjavelina in
south Texas in the hills around Austin. Those boars are the
most dangerous in the world. l.nng, sharp, dirty fangs will rip
you apart if you miss on the first shot. And sometimes even a




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good. solid hit with a high-powered rifle won't stop those
miniature tanks. They barrel on, snapping and foaming at the
mouth. A dangerous pig is hard to with.
Ahead of me, rooting in the dirt, was the ugliest pig I'd
ever seen in my life. Atk)ut the size of a boxer dog, the
warthog had long. curving fangs that looked all too func-
tional for my taste. Hairless except for a mane like a lion 's, it
stared cross-eyed at me. I put down my bag and loosened my
jacket. My Luger was free in its holster but I hesitated making
the move to draw it.
A 9mm shell has enough stopping power for most
applications—it's adequate for killing a man. I doubted if
even a full clip of bullets could stop a charging hog this size.
Those tusks gleaned yellow and filthy in the bright African
daylight. Visions of them ripping me into bloody shreds sent
a cold ripple up my spine.
' •Hallo! ' • came a pleasant female voice from further down
the path. "How are you?"
Eyes fixed on the warthog. I called out, ' *Stop! nere's an
animal in the pathway. Dangerous one.
"What? Oh, a warthog? Lhn't worry. That's only Fred-
die."
"Freddie?" The warthog turned, as if confused.
'Shoo, Freddie. nat 's a bad scaring Herr Carter like
that. t'
I 'II be damned if the warthog didn't slink off to its burrow,
turn around, and then back in.
' 'A pet of yours? ' ' I asked. A deep breath took the edge off
the adrenaline high I rode.
"Something like that," she laughed. I got my first good
look at the woman. Perhaps twenty-one, raven-dark hair,
ebony eyes, a pale complexion, and a figure that promised
excellence in all curves. She wore a slightly baggy safari
jacket, long khaki pants, and heavy boots. A faint whiff of
perfume drifted to me on the warm wind: Chanel.
"You have the advantage on me, in more ways than one.





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You have mystical power over the wild beasts of the veldt, ' ' I
said, nodding toward Freddie's burrow where only an ugly
snout protruded, "and you know my name while I don't
know yours. "
'Herr Carter. I am so glad to see that Freddie didn't scare
you unduly. You are too gallant. " Her words were heavily
accented. Dutch. It came as no surprise when she introduced
herself.
am Alleen Kindt. "
"Doctor Fates fiancée. Pleased to meet you. And I'm so
happy to tk here to help out your future husband. " Ihe way
her face clouded told me that things didn't run smoothly
between her and FatEr. This gave me a wedge to push in
further. But that would have to wait until later.
' 'Come into the house. Bron—l)octor out on the
veldt. He . .
he is working on his latest project.
' 'The insect problem? ne genetic engineering on the
tsetse fly?' • I She winced. I 'd hit another sore spot.
Things went very poorly her and Fatrr.
Again, she didn't answer. dark-haired woman called
out to a native to fetch my bag.
"Chinua will get you settled. ' • thanked the woman, but it
was to her back. She walked off, mopping her face with a
delicate lace handkerchief.
To Chinua I said, must have offended her. "
"No, she is like this much lately. "
"Why?" A shrug was the only answer I got. I studied the
"Isn't the name Chinua a Nigerian
native, then asked,
name?" That stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Yes. How do you know that?"
' 'I've wanted to work in Africa all my life. I read a lot.
Means, uh, don't tell me .
' 'lhe name means Chi's own blessing. "
For the ItX) tritr of Nigeria, each had a rrrsonal angel or
guardian known as Qi.
"What are you doing this far south?"
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Again the shrug. He must have learned it from an Italian. It
had the same eloquence that meant everything and nothing at
the same time.
"Must mctor Fat*r," I gushed on. "He's a great
man. i'
. " Chinua
"An ambitious man. He will conquer all of
stopped in mid-sentence.
"Disease?" I finished for him. Ihat wasn't what he
meant, but he still nodded. "Yeah, Faber is a great man. The
work he dcrs with mutated diseases is of untold potential
value to mankind."
"They sometimes get out of hand. s'
"What's that?" I cried. "You mean some of the diseases
escape the
w 'I know little, but many have died since I came six months
ago. ney die deaths, some with fever, others turning
almost white. Ihe irony in his voice matched the hurt. "He
says they were natural deaths, deaths to expected in the
veldt."
"But you don't think so. "
"This is a nice room," he said, avoiding the question.
"You will like it a lot during your stay.
• 'I hope it's a long stay. I 'm looking forward a great deal to
working with mctor Fat*r. I dropped onto the and
watched Chinua, then noticed what was missing from the
room. I stopped him and asked, "Where's the mosquito
netting? I don't want to eaten alive by insects.
"You will not be. Doctor doesn 't allow bugs inside
his kraal." Chinua left me thinking that over. I carefully
searched the small room, looking for bugs both real and
electroruc. I found neither. It felt as if J 'd dropped in the
middle of Adventureland in Disneyland; bugs were forbidden
and didn't dare show their antennae.
The prospects for recombinant DNA were stupendous, if
this control of the environment had tren engineered by
Faber. However. that sword cut both ways. Great good might
countered by even greater evil.
I had to find out—soon.





91
-ne common room looked as if it had been decorated by a
Hollywood stage manager. Zebra skin adorned the floor and
a springbok head had tEen nailed to the wall. The wicker
chairs were identical to ones I 'd seen in a hundred jungle
movies and were as uncomfortable as they looked. Still.
simply sitting and collecting my thoughts had much to rec-
ommend itself. Ginua brought me a drink made from
undefinable liquids that tasted slightly bitter but which
quenched my thirst nicely.
Staring out an orrn window across the veldt, I saw hilly,
rocky areas in the distance.
"Those are kopjes," came Alleen's voice. I rose to face
her.
"Please, sit down, Herr Carter. We do not demand
civilized courtesies out here in the wilderness. '
"You don't like it out here, do you?" The answer to that
question was obvious in every word she spoke, the way she
frowned as she gazed over the veldt, the very camage of her
body.
"It's not that so much," she answered. s 'I could like it
here. Never love it like Bron, but it might become home. I
just miss him so. "
' 'His tnps to Johannesburg and Cape Town must be
longer than I thought. Ihe people at the Medical Research
Center in Johannesburg complain he is there all too short a
"Erica der Klerk?"the dark-haired woman laughed. "She
has such a crush on Bron. If he were there twenty-four hours a
day, three hundred sixty-five days a year, Erica would com-
plain missing a day every leap year. "
' 'You two have met. "
"She doesn't like me, not one bit. "
"Because you took Bron away from her. " The color that
rose to the woman 's pale cheeks reminded me a great deal of
the way Erica blushed at every little remark.
"I hardly took him away from her. Bron and I met in
Amsterdam six months ago. He attended an international
conference on applications of genetic engineering. My father
also attended. "
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NICK CARTER
"And you went along for the ride. "
"Hardly," she said, a wistful sound in her voice. "My
father was very ill. He needed constant attention.
"You use the past tense. "
"My father died soon after.
S'Sorry, I didn't mean to pry into your private sonow. "
g 'That's all right. You are the first to show any attention to
me in the months I've been stranded out here. "
"Surely, mctor . . "
"Bron is seldom here. " I filed that away for future refer-
ence. He was seldom in either Town or Johannesburg.
Where did he his time, then?
' 'It must be very lonely for you."
' 'If Bron paid more attention to me, it would trarable.
As it is, well . .
She shrugged and I knew then where
Chinua had picked up the gesture. "This place is too dry. I
am used to higher humidity, having lived t*low sea level
near the Zuider Zee. The Netherlands is such a compact
country, no waste space, so lush and pretty and colorful. Not
like this. She glanced out over the veldt. The prairie-like
expanse held only dust and exotic anirnals, not windmills and
tulips and canals.
"Why not return to Eurorr? Or at least Johannesburg?" I
asked. 'Tere 's no need to exile yourself out here if there's
nothing to keep you occupied. "
"Bron wants to get mamed soon. But the date is always a
few weeks in the future. He says that Johannesburg is too
violent a city , that Cape Town is too far away, that Pretoria is
too provincial. " She sighed. S 'Sometimes I think of leaving,
going back to the Netherlands. But his work is so important
I'd feel like a traitor leaving him.
"Which project is this? The insects? Or the disease preven-
tion for the endangered scxcies?"
'Both of those projects are completed. Bron talks of the
plagues that will descend on all the cities due to the silly rules
and regulations the South African ministers insist on enact-
ing."
"What regulations are those?" I couldn't fathom her
DocroR DNA
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