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Tiez was undaunted. He moved still closer, whis-
40
NICK CARTER
pering something Carter couldn't hear. He stared
at her unflinchingly, the way a trainer would at an
unbroken horse.
Her eyes were wild. Carter saw her mute terror as
her nervous glance flashed past him. They took in the
four guns, then darted back to the sergeant.
Tiez made another attempt to grab her wrist. This
time she didn't resist. He slipped on half the re-
straint, then, with a jerk, slipped on the other half.
Finally, taking her firmly where the two loops joined,
he forced her to climb out.
The other men were waiting among the branches,
their guns gradually turning upward and the safeties
being put on when they saw the sergeant had things
under control. Then, without a word spoken, as
though this were part of a ritual they all inherently
understood, the five men and the girl began to climb
hand over hand, off the mass of branches and vines
to the other shore.
Only Carter remained, looking around at the three
dead bodies. They had to call him twice to rejoin the
group.
At noon they stopped beneath an overhang of
palms and began to nibble at several plastic tubes of
food. These were combat rations of some sort, new
in Carter's experience, and the idea apparently was to
squeeze ribbons of it onto your fingers, then nibble it
off.
When Carter's turn came, he waved the tube away.
"I've lost my appetite," he said.
The sergeant nodded and passed the tube to the
next man, but he gave Carter a scrutinizing look, and
Carter realized that he could not afford to be too
outspoken.
The girl, Carter noticed, ate as though it were her
last meal. She took up the tube when it was offered
and spread the foodstuff over all the fingers of one
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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hand, then gobbled it all down greedily. This amused
Tiez, who smiled at her.
There was something in Tiez's attitude toward the
girl that Carter found particularly distasteful. He was
solicitous of her, as though they were courting, and
this didn't jibe somehow with the fact he and his men
had just murdered her family.
The girl, for her part, was too numbed by shock
to respond to anything but food. She spent the rest
of the afternoon walking dully between Velasquez
and Patterson, neither fast nor slow, staring at the
ground as though she were already dead, or so lost
and without hope as to make the difference between
living and dying negligible.
Shortly before sunset the trail bent upward and the
six of them began to climb out of the valley of the
Paraguay River onto a flat tableland that was punc-
tuated here and there by outcroppings of jagged
black rock. Broad vistas of the surrounding land-
scape became visible. The forest extended out of the
valley toward a group of low hills in the distance that
were also covered with trees.
"The base," announced Tiez, pointing to a section
of trees nestled in the joining of two hills.
"How can you tell?" asked Carter, squinting at
the area the sergeant was indicating. It looked like a
uniform mass of green, unbroken anywhere.
"It's camouflaged to prevent its being spotted
from the air," answered Tiez.
The trail here was well worn. and by the time dark-
ness had descended, they'd reached a kind of out-
post, a crude campground consisting of rotted logs
arranged around a fire pit and a level place to pitch
tents.
The men set to work immediately, building a fire,
then using the firelight to put up the tents. Patterson
and the Russian had one tent, Velasquez and Gal-
42
NICK CARTER
legos another, and Tiez had one of his own. There
was no tent for Carter, but no one seemed bothered
z said he would provide mosquito net-



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arranged around a fire pit and a level place to pitch
tents.
The men set to work immediately, building a fire,
then using the firelight to put up the tents. Patterson
and the Russian had one tent, Velasquez and Gal-
42
NICK CARTER
legos another, and Tiez had one of his own. There
was no tent for Carter, but no one seemed bothered
by the fact. Tiez said he would provide mosquito net-
ting to hang over the branch of a tree if Carter de-
sired.
The big issue seemed to be where the girl was going
to sleep. Tiez had tied her to a tree on a long tether,
and she sat watching the ritual of making camp with
complete disinterest.
As the other men were preparing to bed down, Tiez
went to the tree where the girl was tied. He cut the
tether, then, wrapping it tightly around his hand,
began to lead her back to his tent.
No one objected. Apparently it was the right of the
senior officer to do as he pleased. but Carter noticed
the other men watched covertly. It was obvious that
each of them desired her, and would very much like
to be in Tiez's position.
As it turned out, however, they had nothing to be
jealous of. As the sergeant stooped to enter his tent,
the girl suddenly came alive. She attacked him vi-
ciously from behinds knocking him forward into the
tent and collapsing the fragile structure.
Struggling noises came from beneath the walls of
the tent, and Carter instinctively started to move in
that direction. The Russian, however, held him off
with a reassuring wave. "The sergeant can take care
Of himself," Revsky said, unaware that Carter's con-
cern was for the girl.
In a few seconds Tiez emerged, holding a knife and
dragging the girl by the wrist. Her face was cut on
one side. A rivulet of blood oozed from her cheek
and was seeping toward the corner of her mouth.
Other than that, from what Carter could see, she
wasn't badly hurt. Tiez, on the other hand, had nail
marks on both sides of his forehead.
He was livid with anger. As he pulled her near the
fire, his mouth twitched. Holding her down with one



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lez, on eo her an
a nal
marks on both sides of his forehead.
He was livid with anger. As he pulled her near the
fire, his mouth twitched. Holding her down with one
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
43
knee on her stomach, Tiez secured her wrists once
more with what was left of the tether. then dragged
her to the base of a nearby tree. The girl fought and
her screams filled the air, but Tiez was oblivious to
her struggles. He tied a knot in the end of the tether
and wedged it between two branches of the tree, then
he tore away the ragged animal-skin dress she wore.
She had a beautiful body, as smooth and lithe and
muscular as a jungle cat.
The men didn't move. They were fascinated.
The sergeant pulled out his shirt and began to undo
the buckle of his belt. The look on his face had
changed from anger to grim determination, but
Carter could see the anger was still there, smoldering
underneath like a hayfire, ready to flare up at any
moment. If the girl survived this ordeal, she wouldn't
live long afterward. The sergeant was in a mood to
kill.
Suddenly Carter knew he couldn't wait any longer.
If he was going to make a move, it had to be now. He
leaped at the sergeant, a high, arching karate kick
that might well have split the man's head if Carter
hadn't altered the angle slightly and come down in
the middle of his back. Tiez flew off the girl and
tumbled into a thicket of fern.
The girl didn't need any more chance than that.
She sat up, and with a powerful yank, she pulled her
hands free. Then, with her wrists still bound, she
scrambled to her feet and darted into the trees. She
looked like a gazelle, her tan buttocks pumping as
her legs carried her to safety.
Tiez was on his feet in a second. He started after
her but soon saw he was hopelessly outdistanced.
Then he turned to Carter. His eyes burned like coals
in his head, and his fists clenched and unclenched at
his sides.
"Idiot!" he hissed. i' What the hell do you think
you're doing?"



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NICK CARTER
said Carter calmly.
"They're human beings,"
turning away. "You can't treat them like animals."
Tiez ran around to Carter's other side, thrusting
his face up into Carter's. "What the hell do you
know?" he yelled. "You've been in this jungle a few
days and you're going to tell me how to treat In-
Patterson clicked a cartridge into the breech of his
Uzi, and the sound caused everyone to stop and look
at him. "You know, Sarge," he said slowly, "I
thought we should've killed this joker this morning.
Wanna do it now?"
said Tiez, warming to the idea. His
"Yeah,"
mouth fanned into a broad smile. "Maybe we
should. Who's going to know?"
Carter had been watching Patterson, looking
for an opening. Now, as the American mercenary
turned to grin at Tiez, Carter seized the moment. He
snatched the gun barrel in a movement almost too
quick to see.
Panerson's reaction was to pull back, but Carter
anticipated this. He let Patterson go, then yanked
him suddenly forward. At this point Patterson could
either let go of the gun, which would put it into Car-
ter's hands—and give Carter the drop on everybody
—or hold onto the gun, which would bring him on a
dead run into Carter's left fist. Patterson chose the
latter.
Because of the speed of Carter's initial move, he
had time to rear back and put a little weight behind
his punch. This. combined with the force Of Patter-
son's forward motion, seemed to almost destroy the
man's nose when it hit. The nostrils split and blood
showered his uniform.
The man staggered. He fell to his knees, but he did
not let go of the gun. It was as though his hands had
not yet received the message the rest of his body was
broadcastin .
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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As Carter reached for the gun, something hard
slammed into the small of his back.
Carter fell to the ground and rolled over twice, al-
most spinning into the fire, He sprang to his feet and
saw it was Gallegos who had kicked him.
The other men were now beginning to react. Velas-
quez, Revsky, and Gallegos were all moving in Car-
ter's direction, while Tiez headed toward the tents.
The other guns had been stacked there, and although
the other three men were much closer and posed a
more immediate threat, it was Tiez who worried
Carter. Somehow the Killmaster had to keep the ser-
geant from reaching the weapons.
Gallegos had covered more ground than the
others. He had followed his kick to Carter's back and
was now within a few feet of Carter, looking for an
opportunity to do more damage. But Carter was on
his feet this time and facing him.
He feinted to his left, then went low, moving like
lightning, sweeping the man's legs out from under
him with a broad kick. Gallegos went down and
Carter leaped on him with a punch to the rib cage
that made the soldier's body jump as though it had
received an electric shock.
Then came the other two.
Tiez, meanwhile. was at the guns, picking one up.
Carter felt a new urgency to stop him.
The Russian was small, half a foot shorter than his
Latino buddy, and weighed probably thirty pounds
less. Carter sprang for him, arresting his forward
motion by grabbing his clothes and picking him up
bodily off the ground. Then, with one hand on his
chest and the other on the belt of his pants, Carter
hurled the young man back. Revsky flew into Tiez,
who was just about to swing around with the gun.
The two fell over each other, sprawling onto the
ground and scattering the guns.
This left Velasquez, the Latino kid. He, .too, had
46
NICK CARTER
been carrying a gun earlier. He was the kind who was
attracted to a gun in almost a sexual way. A gun to
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c est an t eot er ont e eto IS pants, arter
hurled the young man back. Revsky flew into Tiez,
who was just about to swing around with the gun.
The two fell over each other, sprawling onto the
ground and scattering the guns.
This left Velasquez, the Latino kid. He, .too, had
46
NICK CARTER
been carrying a gun earlier. He was the kind who was
attracted to a gun in almost a sexual way. A gun to
him was like a woman; he needed to have it close by
to fondle and stroke. But when he had seen the fight
ensuing. he had put the gun aside. He had also stood
by and let Carter throw his Russian comrade a dozen
feet through the air. He seemed very eager to con-
front Carter one-on-one, and as Carter turned to
him, he quickly saw why. The boy had drawn himself
into a karate stance and was circling, hissing like a
cobra.
Carter immediately went into a fighting stance,
very much aware that he had to dispose of this kid
quickly before the others recovered. He didn't have
time to spar.
He lashed out with another leg sweep, but it wasn't
well timed. The kid skipped away, but not before
delivering a sharp blow to Carter's knee. A flash of
pain shot up Carter's leg.
Meanwhile, Gallegos had pulled himself up. He
was still holding his bruised ribs, but he didn't look
all that much worse for wear. Velasquez was about to
charge from Carter's left. Gallegos now came in
from the right.
But Caner was more than ready. The adrenaline in
his system had taken him past the point of needing to
think. He charged with a flurry of punches and kicks,
spinning like a dervish. He caught Velasquez on the
jaw, shot a knee into his stomach, and, as he was fall-
ing away, chopped the nerve center at the back of his
neck. The man's body stiffened like a pole, then lay
still on the ground, hovering near unconsciousness.
Simultaneously, the Killmaster attacked Gallegos.
The man got a short, rapid punch to the face and a
sweeping kick to the head, Carter's leg stretched to
its limits. The blow caught the soldier squarely on the
temple. He went down like a felled tree



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eepmg tc o e ea
arter s eg stretc e to
its limits. The blow caught the soldier squarely on the
temple. He went down like a felled tree.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
47
Patterson's gun lay near the fire. Carter dashed for
it and scooped it up. Tiez, too, after shoving the Rus-
Sian aside, had scrambled for a gun, and he'd also
brought his up, but not as fast as Carter.
"Hold it right there, Tiez."
Tiez saw that he'd lost. His eyes grew cautious and
the gun loosened in his hand.
' 'Drop it," ordered Carter.
Tiez let the gun fall. "Most impressive, senor," he
said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"You didn't learn that in Colombia."
"You'd be surprised what you can learn in Colom-
bia. A man has to learn to take care of himself any-
where. "
' 'Then a man must always watch his back."
Carter started to turn, when the cold finger of a
gun barrel pressed against the back of his neck.
Strong hands wrenched the machine gun from his
grasp, then a figure walked past him and sauntered
into the light of the fire. It was a man wearing an
Australian bush hat, pulled low on one side. The face
was angular and sharp, but there was softness about
it at the jowl and around the mouth.
A man who liked his comforts, Carter decided.
The man threw the gun to Tiezj then turned to face
Carter. "You fight like a mother leopard. Who the
hell are you?"
' 'My name's Phil Royce. Who are you?"
"l, my friend, am Colonel Anderson."










FOUR
"Someone want to tell me what's going on?"
asked Anderson. He crouched down, took an ember
from the fire, and lit a slim cigar.
"This man has been disrupting our maneuvers,"
Tiez complained hotly, pointing at Carter. "Ever
since we picked him up at the river, he's been nothing
but trouble."
Anderson regarded Carter. "This true?" he asked
calmly.
Carter said nothing.
"Why don't you tell me the whole story, Sergeant?
From the beginning."
Tiez quickly related how they had found Carter
and the story he had told them. Then he mentioned
the incident with the Indians and how the girl had
been captured.
' 'That's enough," said Anderson impatiently. "I
can guess the rest, So," he said, coming up to Carter,
' 'you don't approve of our methods of taming the
native population, is that right, Mr. Royce?"
"There's a difference between taming and elimi-
nating," said Carter.
48
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
49
"You should study your own national history, Mr.




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"You should study your own national history, Mr.
Royce. Your cowboys and cavalry did little better on
your western frontier. "
"I think you should know that your men stole
money that belongs to me," said Carter.
"I had a
guide when I came in here, a snake named Juan from
San Pedro. He robbed me and threw me in the river.
Your men found him and most likely killed him. He
must have been carrying my five thousand on him. I
can't imagine where else it could have been. "
"Five thousand dollars?" asked Anderson looking
anew at Tiez and his men. None of them would re-
turn his look.
"That's right. "
Now it was Tiez's turn to come under Anderson's
scrutiny. "It seems you've been busy," Anderson
said. "We'll have a little talk when we get back to
camp. Meanwhile, Mr. Royce—if that is your name
—what's the idea of bringing a sum like that into the
jungle? Surely you were asking to lose it."
"Earnest money. I'm here to look over Frank
Perlman's camp. See if it's worth investing in. He
told me he needed money. "
"What did you expect him to do with five thou-
sand in cash way out here? You must have known it
would cause problems. "
"Not at all. I brought it along to show my good
faith."
"And you have more money, I assume?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
' 'Enough."
Anderson had moved away from the fire and now
came up close and looked Carter in the face. Carter
could see the firelight flickering in his dark eyes.
"So you are a rich man," sneered Anderson. "But
wealth doesn't mean anything out here, Mr. Royce.
50
NICK CARTER
All that matters here is how well you can handle
this." He held out the machine gun.
"l don't do badly with that, either," said Carter.



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came up close and looked Carter in the face. Carter
could see the firelight flickering in his dark eyes.
"So you are a rich man," sneered Anderson. "But
wealth doesn't mean anything out here, Mr. Royce.
50
NICK CARTER
All that matters here is how well you can handle
this." He held out the machine gun.
"l don't do badly with that, either," said Carter.
"Perlman taught me himself."
"l see," said Anderson scornfully, turning away.
"And when did you last speak to our good colonel?"
' 'A few months ago."
"How many months?" Anderson shot at him. He
spun around sharply.
Carter felt heid better be careful. A wrong answer
could blow everything. 'VI don't know. Several. "
"Exact date, please."
Carter thought hard. The information on Perl-
man's comings and goings was vague. Hawk had said
Perlman had been leaving for months at a time. On
the other hand, if he came up with an exact date,
Anderson might guess he was lying.
"I don't remember exactly when. Sometime in the
spring.
Anderson abruptly turned away. It was impossible
for Carter to tell if he'd given the right answer or not.
"What is your business, Mr. Royce?" Anderson
asked.
"Import-export."
' 'That's a polite way of saying smuggling. Are you
a smuggler, Mr. Royce?"
Carter didn't answer.
"As I was coming up, I heard someone mention
Colombia. Is that where you do your importing and
exporting, Mr. Royce?"
"Yes."
"I know of only one commodity exported from
Colombia upon which men make quick fortunes.
Isn't that right, Sergeant?"
Tiez smiled knowingly.
"Is that the kind of smuggler you are, Mr. Royce?
The kind who makes himself rich off the misery of




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s a e tn o smugg er you are,
r. oyce.
The kind who makes himself rich off the misery of
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
51
others, peddling his white death all over the world?"
"It's true. I smuggle cocaine. "
"And yet you have the nerve to come here and
make judgments about the way we treat our Indians?
You strike me as a man of convenient morals, Mr.
Royce."
"I'd like to speak with Colonel Perlman."
"Yes, I imagine you would," said Anderson with a
laugh. He held his cigar in his teeth at a defiant angle.
"But Colonel Perlman isn't with us. He's at a new
camp he's building further in the interior. So you see.
we don't need your money here, Mr. Royce. What I
should do is give you back your five thousand and
send you packing."
"Why don't you?" asked Carter.
Anderson shrugged, blowing a thoughtful ring of
smoke in the air. "That little maneuver I interrupted
intrigues me. I'd like to know more about the man
who was able to do that. "
"Then you'll let me stay in the camp until Perlman
arrives? "
"I'll let you stay. I'm not saying how long. Mean-
while, unless you want your throat cut in the middle
of the night, I suggest you come with me. "
' 'If you're worried about us, Colonel," said Tiez,
"we don't mean Mr. Royce any harm."
"Hah!" shouted Anderson, slapping his sergeant
good-naturedly on the shoulder. "Of course you do!
Come along, Mr. Royce."
Anderson moved away from the fire, toward the
foliage from which he'd appeared. Carter turned to
follow, getting a deadly look from Tiez in the proc-
ess.
"The sergeant is not the kind of man you want to
make your enemy." said Anderson over his shoulder
as he made his way through the darkness.
"I didn't set out to," said Carter. ' 'But looking
52
NICK CARTER




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back on it, it was inevitable."
Anderson led him to a jeep standing in a narrow
road. The road looked little used. Waist-high weeds
were growing in it.
"Sergeant Tiez is one of the best-trained fighters in
the world," Anderson said, getting in behind the
wheel and starting the engine. s 'No matter how good
you are, you have to respect that."
Carter climbed into the passenger seat.
"All the men here are well trained," Anderson
went on. ' 'In fact I would pit my men against any
military unit in any army anywhere in the world.
They are the very best. I don't know if Colonel Perl-
man told you that."
"Yeah, he told me," Carter said as the jeep
lurched forward.
The road to the camp was difficult to drive at best,
even in a jeep. It plunged into gulleys, shot up sheer
rock faces, disappeared under creeks. Nonetheless,
Anderson drove as though it were a race, spinning
the wheel wildly this way and that, and at times. it
seemed to Carter, taking the most obstructed path.
He seemed to delight in trying to terrify Carter, all
the while keeping up a steady stream of banter that
after a very hard day was giving Carter a monumen-
tal headache.
But Carter planted both feet firmly on the floor,
one hand under the dash, the other on the frame of
his seat. and stuck it out.
Anderson seemed wholly taken with the accom-
plishments of his men. He talked of nothing else.
They were the best marksmen, the best trackers, the
most capable in a firefight of any men on earth. And
several times, although Carter certainly didn't ask,
he offered to prove his boasts were true.
So monotonous and irritating was Anderson's con-
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
53
versation that by the time they'd reached the camp.
Carter had begun to tune him out. He was now listen-
ing to thoughts of his own, wondering how a man




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They were the best marksmen, the best trackers, the
most capable in a firefight of any men on earth. And
several times, although Carter certainly didn't ask,
he offered to prove his boasts were true.
So monotonous and irritating was Anderson's con-
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
53
versation that by the time they'd reached the camp.
Carter had begun to tune him out. He was now listen-
ing to thoughts of his own, wondering how a man
like Anderson came to be here in the first place and
exactly where Perlman was.
As they stopped for the checkpoint at the camp
gate, Carter noticed a pylon in the grass about shoul-
der height, bristling with electrical conductors.
"You have an electronic perimeter?" he asked.
"Just put it in. Can't be too careful in Paraguay.
This is General Stroessner's backyard, remember.
Anytime he wanted to, he could come in here and
take us over. We'd have to fight our way out or end
up in one of his prisons."
"Colonel Perlman told me he had the Paraguayans
permanently bought off. "
"That was then. Situations change fast here."
Carter wasn't sure whether this was true. but he
was certain of one thing: electronic equipment like a
multisensor perimeter costs money, money Hawk
had said Perlman didn't have.
This wasn't the only evidence of affluence. As they
pulled into the compound, Carter counted three
trucks, five jeeps other than the one they were in, and
everyone on guard duty, it seemed, was carrying a
brand-new Uzi.
In addition to this, electric lights burned every-
where. If they were generating electricity twenty-four
hours a day, it represented a huge outlay for gasoline
alone.
It certainly didn't look as though the camp needed
money, Carter thought. Had Hawk been wrong
about that? The old man rarely made mistakes.
The camp consisted of a parade ground sur-
rounded by a series of squat buildings of unpainted
plywood. Anderson pulled up in front of one of these
and stopped.'



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plywood. Anderson pulled up in front of one of these
and stopped.'
NICK CARTER
6' These are Colonel Perlman's quarters, You can
stay here. I want you isolated from the rest of the
men, for the time being."
" How long before Perlman comes back to camp?"
Carter asked.
"I haven't the faintest idea, but I wouldn't get too
comfortable." Anderson motioned to two men in
jungle fatigues sitting in the light of a nearby door-
way. "I want you to keep an eye on this man," he
said to them. "Under no circumstances is he to leave
this area. "
' 'Vamanos, amigo, " said one of the men.
They led Carter to the door of the small house,
opened it, and ushered him in. Then one of them
took up the post at the front door and the other went
around to the back.
A single bulb hung from the ceiling. Carter groped
for the chain and turned it on.
It wasn't much of a room. A cot was pushed
against one wall; a dresser with a piece of broken
mirror stood against the other. Between them was a
rattan chair with most of its caning gone. A narrow
window looked down the length of the parade
ground.
Wearily he began to get undressed, He'd had a hell
of a day, and now all he wanted was sleep.
His shirt stuck to him like an old postage stamp.
There were still bits of algae clinging to him from his
dip in the river, and if that weren't enough, the
sweat-soaked clothes he wore were all he had. He
thought he'd gladly give up ten years of his pension
for a shower.
He stepped to the window. A yard light hung over
the parade ground and in its light he could see the
man who was watching the back of the house. He
was smoking.
Well, at least he'd made it to Perlman's camp. The
THE MASTER ASSASSIN



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THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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55
investor from Colombia cover had been a bust, but
then no one had known the camp was doing so well.
The information must have gotten garbled along the
line. Carter didn't have any idea where, but it didn't
matter. He was in; that was the important thing.
But just how long he stayed in, and what he would
be subjected to while he was waiting for Perlman to
show up, was something else entirely.
He certainly didn't trust Anderson. The man
seemed as though he were half crazy. It was a mys-
tery to Carter how such a man had become second-
in-command in Perlman's camp.
Carter unzipped his pants and let them fall to the
floor, then he stepped out Of them. He was bone
tirea. Deep-through tired. He felt as though he could
sleep for a year.
He sat down on the bed. Perlman's bed. Wherever
Frank Perlman was now, at one time or another he
had sat on the edge of this bed just as Carter was
doing.
Carter didn't want to have to kill Perlman. He felt
this as a certainty deep down in the very core of his
being. He'd been feeling it ever since Hawk gave him
the assignment, but he hadn't been able to admit it to
himself. Now that he had, he didn't know what he
was going to do. All he did know was that if and
when he and Perlman met, something was going to
have to give. Either Perlman was coming with him,
or he was going to have to kill him. It was as simple
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FIVE
Reveille blew at dawn, which when Carter checked
his watch was four forty-five. Carter rolled over and
went back to sleep.
At around nine, someone knocked on the door.
"Colonel Anderson wants to see you," said a voice.
Carter opened the door and found a young man of
about eighteen. He was wearing jungle fatigues, and
the Uzi he carried was pointed at Carter and the
safety was off.
"Right now," the boy added.
The boy stepped in as Carter slipped back into his
pants and shirt, which were still damp from the day
before. Then he led Carter across the compound to
another building made of unpainted plywood sheet-
ing like all the rest.
Anderson was waiting in a small room furnished
with wicker tables and chairs. He was sitting at one
end of a long table and he motioned for Carter to
take the seat next to him. Carter sat, and another
man appeared carrying a steaming plate of food and
some silverware. He set these things in front of
Carter and retired.
56
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
57
"Enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Royce," said Ander-
son.
At least they had no intention of starving him,



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Carter and retired.
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THE MASTER ASSASSIN
57
"Enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Royce," said Ander-
son.
At least they had no intention of starving him,
thought Carter. He began to wolf down the scram-
bled eggs.
"l •ve been talking with Sergeant Tiez," Anderson
said, leaning across the table, "and besides the five
thousand, it seems your guide may have been carry.
ing two other items that may have been yours. "
"I want that five thousand back, by the way," said
Carter.
' 'I'm afraid that's impossible. I've already given
the five thousand to Sergeant Tiez as a reward for
finding you and bringing you here. If I were you. I'd
consider it money well spent. Besides, if this second
item is genuine, I'd say you can well afford it."
He pulled an envelope from his pocket and put it
on the table. It was the letter of credit Hawk had
made up.
"I see that you're a very rich man, Mr. Royce."
"Dealing in cocaine is an operation that takes
money," said Carter blandly. "A lot of money."
"True, " Anderson conceded. "But I have another
theory. Spying is another occupation that takes a
great deal of money. And we all know how spend-
thrift the American government is."
Carter laughed. "That's a very wild accusation. "
"Not so wild as all that. You see, Tiez also found
this." Anderson undid the flap of his holster and
drew out Wilhelmina. "Is this yours?"
said Carter, reaching
"As a matter of fact it is,"
for the gun.
Anderson quickly slid it away. "Not so fast, Mr.
Royce. I wouldn't give it to you. even unloaded."
He hefted the gun, sighted it, tested its action. "A
most unusual weapon. A nine-millimeter Luger is




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uger IS
NICK CARTER
rare in itself, but one with an altered stock like this?
Highly unusual. "
"l had it custom made."
"I don't doubt it. I've heard of a gun like this and
the man who uses it. DO you know who I mean?"
Carter's heart leaped into his mouth. He looked at
Anderson hard and thought he noted a twinkle of
amusement in the man's eye.
"No, who?" he asked.
"Why, Nick Carter, of course."
"Who's Nick Carter?"
Once again, Anderson placed the gun on the table,
this time well out of Carter's reach.
"It's possible, I suppose, that you've never heard
of Nick Carter. But in my part of the world he was a
well-known figure, if only on a local level."
' 'What part of the world is that?" asked Carter
coolly.
Inwardly, he was speculating wildly. Anderson ob-
viously had a very strong notion of his true identity.
The question was, what was Anderson planning to do
with this knowledge? And for that matter, just who
the hell was this Anderson? And what had happened
to Perlman? Carter's sixth sense for trouble was
starting to send him very strong signals.
"You may have guessed, Mr. Royce, that I'm not
an American," Anderson went on. "l was born in a
wretched little country in an impoverished corner of
the world where the political climate was not as—
how shall I say it?—as placid as in the United States.
I was fighting tanks with sticks and stones long be-
fore I was old enough to carry a weapon.
"Most boys have legendary heroes, Mr. Royce,
but we had legendary enemies. One such enemy was a
man we called Nick Carter. I'm not sure where the
name came from, but Nick Carter was supposed to
be the epitome of all the oil-rich, grasping Westerners
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it had ever been our misfortune to meet or hear
about. He was the preeminent bad guy—the
boogeyman, as it were.
"As we grew older, the stories about this fantasy
figure grew with us. He became more than just a
legend; he became a taunt, the focus of all our
hatred. You see, Mr. Royce, while most young men
are taught to love and be gentle. we were taught to
hate and destroy. Nick Carter became the center of
those feelings."
"This is fascinating," said Carter sarcastically.
"Mind telling me what you're driving at?"
"Nick Carter was said to use a weapon just like
this one. "
'SAnd that makes me this magical Nick Carter
character?"
"Certainly not. I don't know if Nick Carter ever
really existed. Probably not. He was more than likely
the product of our young, overactive imaginations.
But it's intriguing to think about, isn't it? Especially
after that incident with Tiez yesterday. That was very
good, you know. Five armed men and suddenly you
have the drop on all of them. A remarkable maneu-
ver. The kind of which legends are made. "
Carter shrugged. "It was nothing," he said mod-
estly.
'*Yes/ Mr. Nick Carter, it was nothing
. for
you," Anderson said harshly. ' 'And that is just what
worries me. It makes me wonder what a man of your
abilities is doing snooping around my unimportant
little camp."
Carter said nothing, but his ears pricked. So
Anderson thinks of this as his camp, he thought. Had
something happened to Perlman?
"And, Mr. Carter," Anderson continued,
don't like feeling that you might be inquiring so
closely into what is—after all—my business. I'd like
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NICK CARTER
to give you a little warning: we don't like snoops
around here.


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arter saj not Ing, ut ears pnc e .
o
Anderson thinks of this as his camp, he thought. Had
something happened to Perlman?
"And, Mr. Carter," Anderson continued,
don't like feeling that you might be inquiring so
closely into what is—after all—my business. I'd like
60
NICK CARTER
to give you a little warning: we don't like snoops
around here.
"And just to add a little spice to my warning,"
added Anderson, 's I thought I would give you a little
demonstration of what we do here with people who
displease us. Have you finished your breakfast?"
Carter was done. The eggs had begun to taste like
chalk.
"Then come with me. I want to show you some-
thing. "
Carter stood and followed Anderson out of the
Outside, the day broiled. On the parade ground
men were drilling. Their shirts clung to them like wet
suits.
Anderson took Carter to the other end of the com-
pound to a section that was separated from the other
buildings by a high wall. The wall had been formed
by logs driven into the ground end-first, then sharp-
ened at the top into spikes.
"What's this?" asked Carter. "The stockade?"
"Not quite. "
Anderson stepped through a narrow door in the
wall and beckoned Carter to follow. Inside was a
courtyard lined on three sides with narrow metal
cages. At first Carter thought it was some kind of
gamekeeper's sanctuary, but as he looked closer, he
saw it wasn't animals in the various cages, but
people.
"I thought you might be interested in seeing
something that reflected the Indian's true worth in
Paraguay,"
said Anderson. "What with your
chronic sensitivity to other people's suffering
Carter stooped and peered into one of the cages.
The figure inside regarded him with a blank stare, as
though the world Carter represented was so vast and



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The figure inside regarded him with a blank stare, as
though the world Carter represented was so vast and
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
beyond his comprehension, he'd ceased to even be
curious about it. Carter had seen such looks before,
on animals in zoos.
"This is unconscionable," said Carter. "You're an
educated man, Colonel. How can you tolerate this?"
"It's not a matter of tolerance. It's a matter of
being in Rome and doing as the Romans do. They're
childish primitives and they happen to be in the way
here. They're expendable, but I didn't bring you out
here to snivel over the fate of a few mangy natives. If
you're going to wait for Colonel Perlman to show
up, you may be with us a while and I want you to see
how we pass our time here."
Anderson clapped his hands loudly and within a
few seconds a young man ran in the door and
snapped to attention.
"Yes, Colonel?"
"Assemble A team."
"Yes, Colonel. "
The young man dashed out and in a few seconds
hurried back in, followed by four other men, all
dressed as he was, in jungle fatigues, helmets, and
boots. Each of them carried a brand-new submachine
gun. They lined up at attention in the courtyard,
chins out, eyes forward. One of them sported ser-
geant's stripes.
"Sergeant!" Anderson barked.
The man with the stripes took one step forward.
"You feeling fit this morning, Sergeant?"
"Yes, sir!"
"And your men?"
"Couldn't be better, sir!"
"Are they ready for a little rabbit run this morn-
ing?"
"You bet, sir!"
"Choose your quarry. "



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The sergeant left the ranks and began walking
down the row of cages. stopping now and then to
peer inside.
"What's he looking for?" Carter asked, but
Anderson waved the question away impatiently. He
kept his eyes riveted on the sergeant.
Finally the sergeant found a cage to his liking.
8 'This one, sir!" he announced, pointing.
' 'Good choice," Anderson declared. He walked
over to where the sergeant was standing and pulled a
set of keys from his pocket. "This one came in just
yesterday. "
He opened the door, but the cage's occupant was
reluctant to come out. Anderson reached in, grabbed
him by ear, and pulled him out into the courtyard.
"Sometimes one has to be firm with these rab-
bits," said Anderson, with a glance at Carter.
It was a boy of about twelve. His eyes were large
and fearful as he took in his surroundings. Around
his waist was a thin leather thong. It was all the
clothing he wore.
"These Indians know the jungle better than any
man living," Anderson explained excitedly. "They
run like gazelles and their coloring makes them
almost impossible to see. And they're smart. That's
the best part. That's what makes it different from
hunting animals. These sons of bitches can think!
Choose a man, Sergeant. "
The sergeant slowly walked down the rank of men,
looking each of them over carefully. He nodded to
one blond youngster with a nasty scar in the middle
of his forehead.
' 'Another good choice!" said Anderson, obviously
delighted. "Palkkala is Finnish," he explained to
Carter. S'He got that scar outrunning Russian
bullets. This will be a good match. All right, take this
rabbit to the hatch, Sergeant. "
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The sergeant took the young Indian by the arm and
forced him to the other end of the courtyard. In the
wall was a small square metal door with thick hinges
on it. Holding the boy firmly, the sergeant kicked the
latch and the door fell open.
' 'This is inhuman ." Carter said softly.
Anderson gave the sergeant a signal. "Benedetti!"
shouted the sergeant, and before Carter could react,
one of the sergeant's men had a gun to his back.
Anderson smiled at Carter. "We need our little
amusements, Mr. Carter. The jungle is a lonely,
maddening place. Let the rabbit go!" he shouted.
The sergeant forced the boy's head into the hatch
and pushed him outside. Then he took a bayonet
from a scabbard attached to his belt and threw that
out as well.
"You see, Mr. Carter?" Anderson sang out. "It's
not as inhuman as you might think!"
Then, for more than a minute, no one moved,
while Anderson looked at his watch.
'*What are we waiting for? " asked Carter finally.
' 'Why, we must give the quarry time," said Ander-
son.
Palkkala dashed for the opening at the other end
of the courtyard. He opened it, but instead of plung-
ing in, he hesitated. He listened for a moment, then
fired several rounds into the wall near the opening
about waist high.
"Good man!" declared Anderson. 'iWe lost sev-
eral of our best recruits because they charged through
without securing the entrance first. "
The entrance having been secured, the young Finn
slipped out and disappeared.
"Now we wait," said Anderson. "And listen."
Another minute passed. No one spoke. Carter
watched the expressions on the faces. They were in-
tent and their eyes flashed with excitement, It was
64
NICK CARTER
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slipped out and disappeared.
"Now we wait," said Anderson. "And listen."
Another minute passed. No one spoke. Carter
watched the expressions on the faces. They were in-
tent and their eyes flashed with excitement, It was
64
NICK CARTER
obvious that hunts like this were something they all
relished.
Suddenly a loud call, like the bay of a large animal,
was audible from the other side of the wall.
S'He's found a sign!" shouted Anderson, his eyes
"It won't be long, I'll bet. What do
wide and eager.
you say, Sergeant?"
"No more than ten minutes, sir."
"Really? You have a great deal of confidence in
this young Finn of yours. Would you care to
wager?
' 'Certainly, sir."
Anderson took a black notebook from his breast
pocket and began flipping through its pages. "A
week's wages?" he asked, finding the page he
wanted. He pulled out a pencil from the same pocket
and wetted the end.
"Certainly, sir. "
Anderson made the notation, then checked his
watch.
Meanwhile, another keening cry could be heard
from the other side of the wall.
"He's very close!" Anderson cried. "Quickly, to
the jeeps!"
The men couldn't have become more animated if
they'd suddenly been granted six months' leave. They
ran for the door, all but Carter, who stubbornly
stayed behind.
"Aren't you coming, Mr. Carter?" asked Ander-
son.
"l'd rather not see the outcome," said Carter.
g 'No, you must, really," said Anderson. "You'll
miss the highlight of the entire hunt. "
He came back and took Carter by the arm. Carter
felt Wilhelmina's barrel pressed tightly against his
ribs. "Some of us have to be forced to have a good




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Wilhelmina's barrel pressed tightly against his
"Some of us have to be forced to have a good
THE MASTER ASSASSIN'
time," he said. He escorted Carter out the door.
65
The sergeant took some of his men in one jeep,
while Anderson took the remainder, including Car.
ter, who rode in the front seat.
As soon as they were outside the camp, one of the
men in Carter's jeep spotted Palkkala. He was
cautiously stepping through an open area of long
grass, his gun at the ready, his eyes watching the
ground. Apparently he had chased the young Indian
into the clearing and was now working it sys-
tematically, trying to flush him.
The jeeps parked thirty yards away on the gentle
slope of a hill, and the men watched Palkkala's
maneuvering silently. All but Anderson, who
couldn't restrain himself from talking.
"You have to understand the military potential
here,"
he whispered to Carter. ' 'Think how much
these Indians must hate us! What better experience
for a recruit than to have to hunt down a quarry who
knows these jungles since childhood, feels he's pro-
tecting his home, and who hates his pursuers more
than death itself? It's perfect! Of course these ln-
dians don't have any real chance against us, but is it
any wonder the men graduated from this camp have
established reputations for themselves as guerrilla
fighters all over the world?"
Carter didn't reply. He had met many cruel and
vicious men in his long career, but he was starting to
believe that he must number Anderson as one of the
worst. Carter could not condemn a man who killed
quickly and easily—he did the same himself—but the
wanton torture of helpless innocents for sport was a
different matter.
He couldn't imagine that Frank Perlman had con-
doned this behavior. It would be contrary to ev•
erything Carter knew_about the man.




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The Finn had spotted something. He stopped sud-
denly in the grass and slowly, carefully raised his gun
to eye level.
Anderson. in his eagerness to instruct and en-
lighten, had neglected to shut off the jeep. With a
movement too quick to prevent, Carter stepped over
the center hump and mashed on the gas pedali at the
same time slamming the gear shift into first.
The jeep lurched forward and bounced down the
hill directly at the young Finn, who was getting ready
to shoot. He saw it coming in the nick of time and
was able to jump out of the way, but his shot went
wild.
The Indian boy. seeing his chance, began to run
for a knot of palms and fern that stood on the edge
of the jungle. If he could reach there, Carter realized,
he would probably get away. He'd be a needle in a
haystack to find in all that foliage.
After almost colliding with the Finn, the jeep had
continued fifty feet further into the grass and
stopped. But unfortunately it was the same direction
in which the boy had to run. One of the soldiers sit-
ting behind Carter suddenly stood and shouldered his
machine gun. He had a clear shot. The boy was in the
open and had a good hundred feet to go before
reaching the trees.
Carter rammed his elbow into the soldier's thigh.
The unexpectedness of the blow brought the shooter
to his knees and almost knocked him out of the jeep.
At least now the boy had a chance. Only fifty feet
to go.
Suddenly, from the sergeant's jeep back up on the
hill, a machine gun erupted. Bullets went everywhere.
The soldiers on the back of Anderson's jeep jumped
for cover, and Carter and Anderson were forced to
duck down below the seat.
Over the hood Carter saw the boy dance like a pup-
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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pet each time he was hit. Once, twice, too many times
for Carter to count.
Then, abruptly, all was still. Small white clouds of
gun smoke hung in the air.
"You fool!" Anderson screamed as he crawled out
from under the dash. "You arrogant bastard!" he
declared, looking at Carter with fire in his eyes.
"Your constant moralizing has reached its limit!"
Palkkala was even more violent. He had leaped up
from where he'd fallen and come at a dead run. Now
he jumped on Carter and knocked him out of the
jeep. They fell to the ground and rolled together,
with the Finn coming out on top.
In his anger Palkkala lapsed into Finnish. While
Carter had a basic knowledge of the language, these
crude curse words were beyond him. "Stupid!
Stupid!" was one word he did manage to catch as
fists rained down on him.
Carter was able to ward off most of the blows and
he had the good sense not to fight back. In a few
seconds two of the other soldiers pulled Palkkala off,
and although he was still kicking and swinging, they
were able to hold him.
"All bets are off!" Anderson announced, dusting
off his clothes. "And Palkkala will get another
chance to prove himself tomorrow. "
One of the soldiers came running up. "Colonel,"
he said urgently, "the Indian boy is still alive."
Anderson, obviously annoyed, followed his man
into the grass. They stood for several seconds in the
waist-high grass looking down, then Anderson took
out his pistol and fired once.
Carter consoled himself with the thought that there
probably wasn't much he could have done.
Anderson walked back, holstering the gun. "Get
in the car, Mr. Carter."
Carter didn't react.
68
NICK CARTER
"l said, get in, Mr. Carter!"
Reluctantly, Carter climbed into the jeep's pas-
senger seat, Anderson got in behind the wheel and in



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probably wasn't much he could have done.
Anderson walked back, holstering the gun.
in the car, Mr. Carter."
Carter didn't react.
"Get
68
NICK CARTER
"l said, get in, Mr. Carter!"
Reluctantly, Carter climbed into the jeep's pas-
senger seat, Anderson got in behind the wheel and in
a few seconds they were alone, rumbling over the
grass toward camp.
S' That was a very stupid thing to do," said Ander-
son, making a visible effort to control his anger.
' 'Those other men would have gladly killed you. I
probably should have let them, but I still don't know
what you're doing here and until I find out, I want
you alive."
Carter stared at the way ahead, He'd long since
come to the conclusion that conversations with An-
derson were too one-sided to yield anything useful,
had you figured for more brains than that,"
Anderson went on sullenly. "Of all the stupid
stunts
As Anderson grumbled away, Carter was consid•
ering his position. The situation had become in-
tolerable. No matter how inaccessible Perlman's
secondary camp was, he was going to have to make
the effort to get there and find Perlman. He couldn't
afford to waste time here any longer.
Carter suddenly became aware that Anderson had
stopped talking. He must have realized Carter wasn't
listening. Carter looked over and found him staring
angrily out the windshield.
"Where's Perlman's second camp?" Carter asked
bluntly.
"What?" said Anderson, obviously having been
pulled from a hard-driving train of thought.
"Where is Perlman's secondary camp? How do I
get there?"
'U You don't. "
"Why not?"
"Because you need supplies and a good guide and
no one here is going to provide you with those things.



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"Because you need supplies and a good guide and
no one here is going to provide you with those things.
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69
But principally you don't go because won't let you.
From now on you are under camp arrest. You're not
to leave your building until I figure out what to do
with you."
When they got back to camp. Anderson dropped
him at Perlman's quarters, gave his guards a few
extra instructions, and drove off.
Carter went to the door alone. When he opened it,
all the hot air that had been accumulating inside all
morning rushed out and hit him in the face.
He went in, unbuttoned his shirt, and sat down on
the bed to consider his situation. There was obviously
something very shady going on here, something with
much more potential for danger than even David
Hawk had realized. Every cell in Carter's brain and
every nerve in his body distrusted Colonel James
Anderson, whoever he might be. And with the death
of General Stroessner and the collapse of the present
Paraguayan government so clearly in the cards,
Carter could not afford to leave Anderson to what-
ever littie game he might be playing. It was vital that
he solve this mystery before something prejudicial to
American interests occurred in Paraguay.
And that meant that he had to find Perlman and
the second camp. What could be going on there that
it had to be situated in such a remote place?
There was a practical side to all this, of course.
How was he going to get there? It would take some
doing just to get out from under Anderson's eye, but
then what? He had no idea where Perlman's second-
ary camp was or even in what direction to look. The
jungle was a vast expanse. He might wander for
weeks, never finding anybody.
He lay back and stretched out. A crude pillow had
been made from dried leaves sewn into a flour sack.
He lay his head down and put his hands behind it for
support. An object struck his fingers, something soft
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NICK CARTER




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NICK CARTER
and flexible. And another something as well,
something hard. He pulled both of them out to have
a look.
The hard object was part of the crude pair of hand-
cuffs that Sergeant Tiez had placed around the wrists
of the brave Indian girl who had escaped.
The second object was an animal skin marked with
a burnt stick. The symbols were crude but easy
enough to understand. One was a crescent moon, the
other a fairly faithful reproduction of a large palm
tree, There was a tree just like it that stood not far
outside the camp's perimeter.
The message was obvious. It was a summons. The
Indian girl wanted him to come to her tonight. And
he would be only too happy to oblige. Surely she or
one of her tribe could take him to Perlman.









SIX
The first order of business would have to be getting
out of the little house in which he was being held.
Carter got up and carefully examined all the wall and
floor joints.
The house had apparently been hastily con-
structed. Only the minimum number of nails had
been used to fasten the walls and floor. Finding the
nails was no problem. but getting them out without
alerting one of the guards would be another matter.
Fortunately Carter wasn't completely without
tools. Besides Wilhelmina, he had brought to South
America another of his trusted weapons. one well
suited to digging out nailheads. This was Hugo, the
pencil-thin but very sturdy stiletto he always carried
on his person. Under normal circumstances he hid
the knife in a chamois sheath strapped to his fore-
arm. A flick of the wrist and it was literally at hand.
But there were no long sleeves in the tropics, so he'd
had to find another means of concealment,
He pulled off his belt and began biting off the
stitches that held the two sides of the leather tongue.
They were specially designed and came out easily.
72
71
NICK CARTER
Then he took his thumb and forefinger and eased out
the blade.
It was exceedingly sharp, edged on both sides with
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They were specially designed and came out easily.
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NICK CARTER
Then he took his thumb and forefinger and eased out
the blade.
It was exceedingly sharp, edged on both sides with
a tip of titanium steel.
He wedged it under one of the nailheads and began
to pry, whistling to cover the sound of his work.
Forty-five minutes later, the first nail finally
dropped out.
By nightfall four slightly bent nails lay on the floor
surrounded by scattered wood chips. Next to them
the floor seam sagged noticeably, revealing a thin
bow of light that reflected up from the grass under-
neath the house.
Carter got up and checked the guard in front, who
was standing nonchalantly on the first of the three
stairs that led to the door.
Then Carter went back to check the guard at the
rear. He was on the narrow back porch, in a chair
tipped back against the wall. His hat was pulled over
his face. Carter couldn't be sure. but he looked as
though he were asleep.
Carter went back to where he'd been working. He
pushed down on the floor seam and the opening
yawned even wider, a hole wide enough for a man to
slip through.
The nails clattered down the funnel he'd created of
the floor and clinked softly in the grass below. Carter
strained to hear if either of his watchdogs reacted to
the noise. Neither man moved.
Using Hugo to prop the hole open, Carter slithered
through, letting himself down into the space under
the house. The yard light was on over the parade
ground. It made long skinny shadows of his legs.
He reached back, grabbed the knife, and crawled
under the back porch. Then he held his breath and
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din of the men relaxing in the mess hall, he heard
snoring.
Carter dashed for the shadow of the next building,
made it, and waited again.
The buildings were all in a row, the end one being
only a short distance from the jungle. Carter ran
from shadow to shadow until he reached the last one,
then he hesitated.
From here the trees were a good fifty yards in the
open with no cover. He peered around the corner.
There was no sentry. Apparently they depended
heavily on their electronic perimeter.
Suddenly he heard voices. They came from inside
the building. His curiosity piqued, Carter hoisted
himself over the window ledge to have a look.
The building was larger than he thought. Inside, it
was posted with huge No Smoking signs in three
languages, and as Carter pressed closer to the dusty
glass, he saw why. Two men were standing in the
middle of the floor, checking something on a clip-
board, and behind them were row upon row of
twenty-gallon gasoline cans.
So this was where they kept the gasoline for the
generators, Carter thought. And the trucks and
jeeps. But it looked as though there was an awful lot
of gas, even for those uses. The rows went on and on.
There must have been thousands and thousands of
cans. Why all the gas? Carter wondered.
He still had the knife in his hand and as he held
himself up to get a better look. the blade tapped the
window.
The two men inside looked up.
Cursing himself for his carelessness, Carter quickly
let himself back down to the ground and sprinted
across the open area to the dense foliage on the other
side.
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He stopped just short Of the jungle and lay down
flat in the grass. The men from the warehouse
weren't pursuing. Obviously the sound he'd made
hadn't been loud enough to warrant investigation.
Either that, or they'd gone for help.
In a few seconds Carter was on his feet again, run-
ning along the edge of the jungle. He kept running
until he found what he was looking for: one Of the
pylons that electrified the perimeter.
Carter had dealt with these before and he knew
they came in two types. The first type was on a line
with all the other pylons and took its power from one
central source. That type had an alarm system that
went off when any one of the pylons was touched or
the beam between them broken. The only way to
defeat a thing like that was to shut down the entire
system.
The second type had an alarm, too, but because it
was battery-powered and meant to be used in tem-
porary situations like field headquarters, one pylon
could be pulled out of line without affecting the
others. Of course, one had to be careful just how one
pulled it out.
Carter looked it over and was relieved to see it was
of the second type. He pulled out Hugo and probed
with its point along the metal seam in the pylon's
base. A tiny door sprang open, revealing the jagged
slit of a lock. This was the lock a repairman would
use to shut the pylon off. It depended for its security
on the fact it could hardly be seen. Once located,
though, it could easily be picked.
He smiled as he tripped the mechanism inside and
the soft whirring of the pylon stopped, but he had
only seconds before the secondary power source
kicked in. He darted around the pylon and out into
the vast dark jungle beyond.
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The insects chirped and
growth, as he groped along,
75
chattered. The under-
was wet with dew even




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e srme as e trippe t e mechanism inside and
the soft whirring of the pylon stopped, but he had
only seconds before the secondary power source
kicked in. He darted around the pylon and out into
the vast dark jungle beyond.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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The insects chirped and chattered. The under-
growth, as he groped along, was wet with dew even
though the temperature was still in the eighties. The
leaves slapped his skin and dampened his clothes.
The large palm was located at the beginning of a
narrow clearing. When he spread the ferns at the end
of it, he saw her waiting for him by the tree. She wore
a sarong of thick cloth and she'd arranged her hair
with white flowers. In the moonlight she was
breathtakingly beautiful.
She turned when she heard him approaching.
"Hello," he said softly.
She fell on her knees at once and pressed his hand
to her cheek with hers.
"No, no," he said, gently but firmly pulling her to
her feet. "Come on, get up."
She stood and for several moments simply stared
at him, her eyes filled with emotion. He tried to guess
what she was thinking. Gratitude, grief, but
something more. He couldn't imagine.
"How are you?" he asked. The cut on her face
looked clean and not infected. "You were not hurt
badly yesterday? "
She didn't understand him. Of that he was fairly
certain, but the gentle tone of his voice must have
conveyed his meaning. Large tears formed in the cor-
ners of her eyes, welled, and began flowing down her
cheeks.
He drew her close and put her head on his chest.
"Go ahead and cry. You've got a good cry coming."
They stood that way for what seemed to Carter to
be a long time. He had no wish to pull away from
her, but there were other considerations.
"Is there somewhere we can go? " he asked finally.
"I'm worried about the men in the camp. "
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"I'm worried about the men in the camp."
She looked at him quizzically. He gestured toward
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NICK CARTER
the camp and pantomimed a machine gun firing. She
nodded gravely, took him by the hand, and led him
down a narrow path.
The path, he guessed, was probably an animal run,
although for all he knew it was a main thoroughfare
for the Indians as well. It seemed to go on for miles.
Several times she signaled for him to stop and be
quiet. Her sensitive ears had heard an animal prowl-
ing. During these moments they froze into whatever
position they were in and did not move a muscle.
Finally, when the danger passed, she signaled an all-
clear.
The path took them deep into the jungle, and even-
tually they reached an outcropping of rock. The path
ran along below the outcropping for several hundred
more yards, then Carter looked up and saw a cave in
the rocks with the light of a fire flickering in it.
They helped each other up the tiny steps that had
been chipped in the stone until they reached the
mouth of the cave. Then the girl rushed in, pulling
Carter in after her.
The fire was well to the back. Several figures were
seated around it, their shadows being cast on the
wall. two women and a man. The man was older, his
black hair flecked with gray, The women were
young. One of them was nursing a child.
They looked up nervously when they heard some-
one approaching and seemed relieved to find it was
the girl. They all greeted one another with a flood of
chatter until they saw Carter, then they stopped and
looked up at him fearfully.
For Carter it was like stepping back fifty thousand
years. The experience of sitting by a fire in a
primitive cave was part of the racial memory of every
living person. He was fascinated by the associations
and feelings it brought to his mind.
The girl explained to the others who Carter was.



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The girl explained to the others who Carter was.
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From what he could tell, judging by her animated
gestures, she recounted the incident with Sergeant
Tiez in detail. The others stared at Carter intently,
the fear gradually fading from their eyes.
When she'd finished, the man stood up and
grabbed Carter firmly by the arm. This was ap-
parently a signal that they were to be friends. Carter
returned the grip and everyone was delighted,
especially the girl, who beamed broadly. Then they
all sat around the fire, the Indians nodding, chat-
tering, and smiling.
An animal leg was roasting on a spit. As a new-
found friend, Carter was offered the thigh. Carter
accepted gratefully. He'd forgotten how hungry he
was. He hadn't eaten since his meager breakfast with
Anderson.
The meat was unfamiliar but tasty. He refrained
from trying to find out what it was and simply en-
joyed it, tearing it from the bone with his teeth and
chewing contentedly.
His eating proved to be a source of amusement for
the women. They hid their giggles behind cupped
hands and poked one another.
And yet for all their laughter and good-fellowship,
Carter sensed an underlying gravity among them, as
though the smiles and joking were a way to avoid
speaking of sadder things.
These were bad times for these Indians, he real-
ized. What with the relentless pressure from An-
derson's men, each of them must have lost a loved
one or friend recently.
While Carter ate, the old man came over and
squatted beside him. " 'Ngai says you are not one of
the bad whites," he said after a while. "She says you
are a great ally and a powerful fighter. She says we
are lucky you have come among us. "
Carter, amazed, swallowed a half-chewed mouth-
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ful. ' 'You speak Spanish!" he exclaimed.
"Si. I have been to San Pedro, although it is a long
way and I would not want to go back."
"But you can interpret. Up until now I haven't
been able to understand a word anyone was saying.
What did you say her name was? 'Ngai? "
"It means flower of the forest. It is good that you
are here. 'Ngai has not laughed or smiled since her
parents "
"I was there. I've rarely
"I know," said Carter.
seen anything so barbaric or cruel in my life, and I've
seen quite a bit."
"We thank you for what you tried to do. But the
other whites, in the camp, on them I spit. "
"You have good reason. But tell me, how long has
this been going on? How long have your people been
massacred like this?"
s 'A long time, sehor. The whites push us deeper
and deeper into the jungle. They make an outpost.
The outpost becomes a city and the Indians are killed
off. They shoot us down like dogs. They have no
mercy on us."
"l see. But at the camp, has it always been this
bad? Have they always hunted Indians as though
they were deer or monkeys in the jungle? There is
another man who sometimes runs the camp, a man
with white hair. Does he let the men hunt you too?"
"You mean the white father! No, senor. When the
white father was there, the Indians and the soldiers
were at peace. It is only now that the soldiers stalk us
and kill us."
"You knew the white father?"
' 'Si. We talked many times. He was a good man.
He knew how to listen."
"Where is he now? Do you know?"
"No, senor. It has been many months. I have
heard he went to make another camp at the bend in
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"Si. We talked many times. He was a good man.
He knew how to listen."
"Where is he now? Do you know?"
"No, senor. It has been many months. I have
heard he went to make another camp at the bend in
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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the river, but I do not know this for sure. If he did,
he has not come back."
S' You know this place, the bend in the river?"
"Si. know it well. "
it far?"
' 'A day's walk. Do you wish to go there, senor?"
"Yes, I do. Could you take me?"
i 'Si, senor. J am old, but for a man as great as you,
I will gladly walk a day. We leave in the morning if
you like."
"Thank you. And thank you for the food. "
J' The gods provide, sehor. They give to me, and I
give to you. "
"Thank you anyway. Do you know the man who
runs the camp now?"
"Si. Anderson," he said, grimacing to show his
distaste.
"Does he know this place? His men will be looking
for me."
' 'Do not worry, senor. You are safe with us. You
may sleep there," he said, indicating a bed of animal
skins laid by the far wall. "Unless 'Ngai chooses
you," he added with a smile. ' 'in that case it would
be unwise to refuse. You would be her first. "








SEVEN
Eventually the fire was allowed to burn down. The
two women retired amid much smiling and giggling,
wrapping themselves in skins and drifting off to
sleep. The old man, too, after many meaningful
glances at Carter and 'Ngai, bid the two of them
good night and stepped behind a formation of rocks
at the back of the cave. In a few minutes Carter
smelled the tobacco as he puffed his pipe.
They were alone. 'Ngai stood abruptly and walked
to the mouth of the cave. Carter sensed he was meant
to follow, and did, sitting himself casually on a rock
beside her.
Making love to her was not something he'd
planned on. And now that it seemed to be looming in
the immediate future, he realized he had his reserva-
tions.
Not that she wasn't beautiful, of course. But the
gulf between them was fathomless. He came from a
world she could never understand or fit into. And her
world, as pleasant as it might seem, was far too con-
fining. Carter considered the fact that she'd just ex.
perienced a seismic emotional shock. Having been
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orphaned so recently and so violently, and having
been so close to death herself, Carter wondered what
emotions making love to her would release.
On the other hand, he thought . . . . On the other
hand .. . he wanted her. That, too, was an undenia-
ble fact the more he looked at her.
Below, the treetops extended to the horizon
beneath a sliver of a moon.
" 'Ngai?" he said.
She turned and smiled, obviously pleased he'd
learned her name.
"Nick," he said, pointing to himself.
"Nick." She tasted the word gingerly, then she
smiled. Apparently she liked it.
A gibbon called to its mate somewhere in the mass
of trees below. The sound echoed against the rocks
and they listened as it faded away.
The moment seemed filled with tension. Carter
knew what was expected of him. but how to ap-
proach it? She was unlike any woman he'd ever
known.
Lovemaking was lovemaking the world over, he
thought. He'd never been shy about it before. Just
the opposite, and yet she seemed so strange, so ut-
terly foreign. Flower of the forest. It fit.
His consternation, however, proved to be totally
unnecessary. She turned to him abruptly with a
puzzled look that seemed to say "Why are we wait-
. —then kissed him.
It wasn't much of a kiss—'Ngai pressed her lips
gently to his—but its very innocence charmed him.
He kissed her back, with feeling, forcing her lips to
part wide enough to admit the tip of his tongue.
This sudden intrusion stopped her short. She
pulled back and looked at him, her eyes wide.
Was that too much too soon? he asked himself.
But her eyes, while surprised, were also full of en-
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thusiasm. She smiled, then closed her eyes, tilted her
head back, and opened her mouth slightly, waiting to
be kissed again. Carter obliged.
This timeshe responded. She pressed her mouth
against his, gently at first, then harder as she began
to experience her own increasing excitement.
They kissed for a long time. When it was over,
their breathing was a little ragged, and in spite of
himself, Carter could feel his heart pound.
"You learn quickly," he said to her in English.
She seemed to understand this meant approval.
She smiled and pressed her body to his.
"I have a feeling," he said, "that this is going to
be fun."
Carter had entertained fantasies ever since adol-
escence about making love to a "jungle woman." In
later years he'd figured they probably stemmed from
watching too many Tarzan movies and seeing ac-
tresses swinging through trees clad in animal-skin
bikinis. But now, as he kissed. 'Ngai a second time, he
realized there had been more to them than that.
Simple nudity alone wouldn't have been enough to
fire his pubescent dreams. And although before
meeting 'Ngai he would have been at a loss to say
what it was about a beautiful jungle dweller that ex-
cited him so, after kissing her and feeling her respond
in his arms, he was beginning to understand.
It was animalness, or the promise of it. The ability
to become aroused without the limits of "civiliza-
tion." To respond without thinking ' 'What will he
think of me?" or "Is it proper for a girl to become so
excited?" To let oneself go completely. He sensed
'Ngai had this ability and now he was eager to find
out if what he sensed was true.
Slowly, he nibbled down her jawline and began to
kiss her throat and shoulder. He started to work his
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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way down the length of her collarbone and toward
her breasts. When she realized what he wanted, she
started to undo the top of the sarong. But he stopped
her.



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'Ngai had this ability and now he was eager to find
out if what he sensed was true.
Slowly, he nibbled down her jawline and began to
kiss her throat and shoulder. He started to work his
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
83
way down the length of her collarbone and toward
her breasts. When she realized what he wanted, she
started to undo the top of the sarong. But he stopped
her.
"Better to take it a little at a time," he whispered.
"Lie back. Luxuriate in it. We've got all night."
And although the words were no doubt mean-
ingless to her, she'd already accepted the role of
pupil, and she was more than willing to relax and let
him instruct.
He eased the cloth back to reveal the flat hollow of
her chest between her breasts. He ran his tongue
down it. She whimpered with excitement.
Ah, he'd been right, he thought. There was an
animal in her, just below the surface. It was simply a
matter of coaxing her out.
He pushed the cloth back still further. The beau-
tiful curves of her breasts appeared in the moonlight.
He remembered how lovely he'd thought they were
the day he'd first seen her on the path by the river.
Perfectly formed with their darker circles of nipple.
He covered one now with his mouth.
She moaned and recoiled as though touched by a
live wire. For a split second Carter wondered if
maybe somehow he'd hurt her, then she grabbed the
back of his head, mashed him onto her chest, and
began to squirm wildly.
If up until now Carter had been exercising a
measure of control, he now relinquished it—gladly.
The animal he'd been working to unleash had now
emerged. It was time for both of them to ride the
crest of her desires.
He eased a hand under her slender body and gently
laid her down in a moss-filled crevice of the rock.
Her sarong had been loosened and now came com-
pletely undone. He stripped off his shirt and pants.
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NICK CARTER
careful how he touched her. She was like an exposed
nerve. Every movement of his hand, even the feel Of
his skin against hers sent her into ecstatic spasms,
and he wanted to see, if he applied himself, just how
far he could drive her. How deep, he wondered, did
these female desires really run?
Her entire body was his to play like a grand instru-
menti He ran his hand along her. She shook and her
whimpering took on the rhythm of her shudders. She
shivered violently. It seemed as though she were
entering into another world, and yet he went on
stroking, exploring, and kissing.
It got to be a game to see how far he could take
her. Desire pounded through her in huge waves, took
her to heights, then dropped her suddenly and left
her panting and pulling on his hands to do it again.
And he realized there was no limit to the depths of
her response and this awed him. He wanted to go
with her, to lose himself as completely as she did.
For what seemed many minutes she had been pull-
ing him to her, begging him to come inside her in that
strange chattering language, and now he finally com-
plied. He positioned himself on top of her and slowly
entered her.
He'd been afraid he'd hurt her, this being her first
time, but she was beyond feeling pain. She actually
sighed with relief when she felt him, and when they
began to move together, she laughed—she literally
laughed—with enjoyment.
'Ngai woke Carter the next morning when she
rolled over in their moss-lined bed and sleepily
nuzzled his neck. He opened his eyes and saw that the
sun had risen behind the rock and was now casting
long shadows out over the treetops below. Some-
one had thrown an animal hide over them during
the night. He threw it back now and noticed the air
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was full of the smell of food.
85
A monkey jumped onto a rock by his head and
began chattering and hopping up and down.
"Shh," Carter warned. "You'll wake 'Ngai."
But he heard a laugh, turned, and found she was
already awake, looking at him with bright, happy
eyes. She spoke to the monkey and the little animal
chattered back, then leaped over a rock and onto her
shoulder.
"I see," said Carter. "You two know each other.
He's probably wondering why you're sleeping out
here."
'Ngai didn't understand, but she looked at Carter
and smiled while the monkey scampered back and
forth from her shoulder to her hand.
The old man appeared in the mouth of the cave,
carrying a black bowl of steaming something. He
came over and squatted beside them.
"All is well, I see," he said. "No one expected you
up so soon. You make a great deal of noise for two
people supposed to be asleep. "
He hastily translated for 'Ngai and she pretended
to be angry and threw a handful of moss, which the
old man dodged artfully, laughing.
"I brought a peace offering." He smiled at Carter
and handed him the steaming bowl, which Carter
now saw was a hollowed-out melon half that had
been blackened in the fire.
Carter breathed in the aroma. Fruit stew. It
smelled delicious.
The old man beat a hasty retreat and Carter of-
fered 'Ngai the melon. She drank and handed it to
Carter. He tried to drink, too, but due to the fact that
he was lying down, he spilled most of it on his chest.
She laughed, but when he started to brush it off,
she grabbed his hand. Moving closer, she began lick-
ing it off with long playful strokes of her tongue.
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Carter let it go on for a white, then he took her
lovely head in his hands and pulled her up, stretching
flat against his own. They embraced in




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Carter. He tried to drink, too, but due to the fact that
he was lying down, he spilled most of it on his chest.
She laughed, but when he started to brush it off,
she grabbed his hand. Moving closer, she began lick-
ing it off with long playful strokes of her tongue.
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NICK CARTER
Carter let it go on for a white, then he took her
lovely head in his hands and pulled her up, stretching
her lithe body flat against his own. They embraced in
a penetrating kiss that told him just how much she'd
learned the night before, and his hands began to ex-
plore her anew.
This continued for several minutes until her ex-
citement was almost what it had been earlier. Then
Carter entered her and the two of them relived a
memory.
It was more than an hour before they finally got
up. As Carter was getting dressed, the old man came
to him carrying a walking stick and wearing a satchel
that hung on his hip like a woman's shoulder bag.
"l am ready when you are, senor."
"You know," said Carter, buttoning the last but-
ton on his shirt, "I'm afraid I don't even know your
name. "
"I am called Lod, senor."
repeated Carter. He bent down to slip on
one of his boots. " 'Ngai says she'd like to come
too. "
' 'I expected it, senor. 'Ngai has been independent
like this since she was a child."
"Then you have no objection?"
"Not if it suits you, seöor."
' 'Good. By the way, my name is Nick. 't
"Nick," repeated the old man.
'Ngai appeared over the top of the rock wearing
the same animal-skin dress she'd worn when she was
captured. She looked lovely. Her long black hair had
been combed until it gleamed and she'd fixed a new
ornament of flowers, red this time.
She, too, carried a walking stick. She held it up
to them, as if to show her preparedness, then side-
stepped down the crude stone stairway until she was
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reparedness,
en st e-
stepped down the crude stone stairway until she was
next to them. She said something to Lod, then
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87
grinned at Carter, and continued on down the path
toward the jungle below.
"l guess we're going," said Carter.
"Si, senor,"
said Lod, falling into line behind
'Ngai. Carter took up the rear.
"Lod," said Carter, after an hour or so of walk-
ing, "l still worry about the men at the camp."
' 'Do not, senor. They will not expect you to go in
this direction. They will look for you upriver. Be-
sides, they themselves will not want to go downriver.
we are stronger there. "
"Si, the Indians. We have been moving steadily
downriver for years. There we outnumber them. "
"How many Indians are there? "
' 'In my tribe?"
"In all the tribes."
"Many, senor."
"Enough to fill San Pedro? "
"More than enough."
Sometime after the sun had peaked they stopped in
the shade of a large tree. Lod went out to find some
fruit to go with the dried monkey meat he had in his
pouch, leaving Carter alone with 'Ngai.
They still lacked a common language, but Carter
conquered the problem with pantomime. He acted
out his surprise and delight at having found her next
to him in the morning and how she'd coyly licked his
chest to show him she wanted him again. She laughed
until she was weak, and Carter worried that if any of
Anderson's men were in the jungle looking for him,
they'd know right where to come.
Lod came back shortly with his arms full of
mangoes, and in a few minutes they were all eating
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As he ate, Carter watched 'Ngai. She was such a
lovely girl, so resilient and strong. She was carrying
on bravely even in the face of her parents' and
brother's brutal deaths. Surely it couldn't be easy for
her. He wondered what kind of future awaited her.
Then he reflected grimly that if she continued to
live in the jungles of Paraguay, she'd probably have
no future at all, or at best one filled with fear and
mistrust.
It was a hard life. A hard life all around.
Later on, as they were walking, Lod asked him
what he would do if the white father were not in the
new camp.
"I don't know," replied Carter. ' 'My orders were
to find him. If he's not there, I suppose I'll have to
keep looking."
He said this, then a few minutes later he thought
how absurd it was. He had been sent to kill Perlman
because officials in Washington had decided Perlman
was a threat to the political stability of Paraguay.
But if Perlman could not be found and had not been
in camp for several months, how could he be a threat
to Paraguay?
The point, it seemed to Carter, was to prevent the
camp from falling into the wrong hands. But the
camp was in Anderson's hands now. Why was
Anderson there and what did he plan to do with it?
Only Perlman knew for sure. Carter could only hope
he found his old teacher alive.










EIGHT
It was almost dark by the time they reached the
bank of the Paraguay River. Carter stared out at the
rushing water. He'd almost lost his life in that
treacherous current. If he lived to be a hundred, it
would never be his favorite river.
'Ngai stepped onto a rock, stooped, and took a
handful of water. She spread it over her face.
' 'How much further?" Carter asked.
"There's the bend, senor," said Lod, pointing.
Half a mile downriver it looked as though the river
stopped in a stand of trees. Actually it took a sharp
bend to the left, but from where Carter was standing,
the second leg couldn't be seen.
"And the camp is just beyond that?"
As they approached the bend, Carter began to get
a bad feeling. The area looked and felt deserted.
There was no evidence that a camp full of men and
equipment was nearby.
By the time darkness fell, they'd found what ap-
peared to be the vestiges of a road. Thick weeds had
grown up in it, but it was obvious where the jungle
90
89
NICK CARTER
had been pushed back to let vehicles pass.
Walking along it was difficult. The weeds were
shoulder-high and the three of them had no machete.



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