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peared to be the vestiges of a road. Thick weeds had
grown up in it, but it was obvious where the jungle
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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.
Carter led the way until the weeds became too much
for him to negotiate, then he let 'Ngai lead. He'd
learned by now that she had a sixth sense when it
came to finding pathways through the jungle.
She led them into a clearing. On either side the
trees stopped in a uniform line that ran for several
hundred yards, maybe further. It was difficult to tell
in the moonlight.
"Is this the camp?" asked Carter.
Lod shrugged.
'Ngai found what Lod had told him she called "a
soft place," a place where the undergrowth yielded
easily. She pushed forward and the others followed.
This advance was peculiarly straight, different
than the usually meandering paths the girl found,
and after a few moments Carter realized they were
walking in a treadmark of some kind, either an
earthmover or a tractor.
They continued on for several hundred more feet,
'Ngai first, Carter following, Lod in the rear, when
suddenly the girl called out in anguished surprise and
disappeared.
' 'Ngai!" shouted Carter.
She yelled from somewhere up ahead; he couldn't
see where. He took another step, then he, too, fell
down a steep embankment into a large hole in the
ground.
'Ngai was waiting for him at the bottom. She ran
and helped him up.
"Lod!" Carter shouted. "Be careful where you
walk. There's a steep drop-off!"
The old man descended nimbly, unlike Carter, us-
ing his walking stick as a brake.



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ing his walking stick as a brake.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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"What is this, senor?" he asked when he'd
reached the bottom.
"l don't know," said Carter. He bent over and
picked up a sample of the soil. "It's black," he an-
nounced. "Maybe there's been a fire."
"But why the hole, senor?"
'Ngai grabbed Carter's arm and began chattering
excitedly. Apparently she'd found something.
He followed her up along the opposite bank of the
hole until they came to what looked like a narrow
mound of earth. Weeds and vines had covered it. She
scraped away part of the leaves with the end of her
stick and in a few seconds the unmistakable milk-
white of bone appeared.
Carter stooped and pulled the rest of the weeds
away by hand. It was a skull. Maggots had stripped it
clean and now it grinned up at the two of them
hideously.
He pulled back more weeds. Other bones ap-
peared, as well as shreds of clothing. Carter con-
tinued to uncover the human remains, but try as he
would, he could find nothing to indicate who it might
have been.
By this time Lod, too, had come over and was
standing, watching.
"The white father?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Carter, getting to his feet.
'"We'll probably never know. But I think we've
definitely found the camp."
Even though it was dark and the moon afforded
only a meager light, Carter decided to make a quick
examination of the area. The other two agreed, and
the three of them split up and started to search, call-
ing to one another whenever they found something.
They soon discovered this had been a compound of
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sixteen buildings. all of which had somehow been
blasted apart. Hence the craters. Oddly enough,
however, the debris had all been blown in the same
direction, away from the center of camp.
They also found the remains of some twenty-odd
bodies, although because they were so haphazardly
buried and badly decomposed, an accurate count was
impossib\e, and the paraphernalia for about that
many people. all of which was scattered over a wide
area.
This information took them a while to gather.
They were hampered by the weeds and the fact that
each new body required an extensive going over by
Carter to see if there were some way to determine
whether or not it was Perlman.
What was more, 'Ngai was terrified of the bodies
and even Lod looked less than comfortable whenever
he stumbled on one.
Finally they met on the only piece of flooring still
intact and faced each other, cross-legged, over the
boards.
"I think we should make camp here and continue
our investigation in the morning," said Carter.
Lod translated this for 'Ngai. She vehemently
shook her head. She gave a long dissertation in her
language, then urged Lod to translate.
" 'Ngai says this is a place of the dead. The dead
still dwell here. It has been difficult for her to remain
here as long as she has, but she has done so out Of
respect for a man she loves, even if he had no sense
about the dead. She cannot spend the night in such a
place, however."
Carter could tell by her erect posture that her mind
was made up. It would be pointless to try to talk her
into staying. "Where do you suggest we go, then?"
he asked.
"We could go back to the river," suggested Lod.
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"The mosquitoes will eat us alive, but if that's all




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sixteen buildings. all of which had somehow been
blasted apart. Hence the craters. Oddly enough,
however, the debris had all been blown in the same
direction, away from the center of camp.
They also found the remains of some twenty-odd
bodies, although because they were so haphazardly
buried and badly decomposed, an accurate count was
impossib\e, and the paraphernalia for about that
many people. all of which was scattered over a wide
area.
This information took them a while to gather.
They were hampered by the weeds and the fact that
each new body required an extensive going over by
Carter to see if there were some way to determine
whether or not it was Perlman.
What was more, 'Ngai was terrified of the bodies
and even Lod looked less than comfortable whenever
he stumbled on one.
Finally they met on the only piece of flooring still
intact and faced each other, cross-legged, over the
boards.
"I think we should make camp here and continue
our investigation in the morning," said Carter.
Lod translated this for 'Ngai. She vehemently
shook her head. She gave a long dissertation in her
language, then urged Lod to translate.
" 'Ngai says this is a place of the dead. The dead
still dwell here. It has been difficult for her to remain
here as long as she has, but she has done so out Of
respect for a man she loves, even if he had no sense
about the dead. She cannot spend the night in such a
place, however."
Carter could tell by her erect posture that her mind
was made up. It would be pointless to try to talk her
into staying. "Where do you suggest we go, then?"
he asked.
"We could go back to the river," suggested Lod.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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sixteen buildings. all of which had somehow been
blasted apart. Hence the craters. Oddly enough,
however, the debris had all been blown in the same
direction, away from the center of camp.
They also found the remains of some twenty-odd
bodies, although because they were so haphazardly
buried and badly decomposed, an accurate count was
impossib\e, and the paraphernalia for about that
many people. all of which was scattered over a wide
area.
This information took them a while to gather.
They were hampered by the weeds and the fact that
each new body required an extensive going over by
Carter to see if there were some way to determine
whether or not it was Perlman.
What was more, 'Ngai was terrified of the bodies
and even Lod looked less than comfortable whenever
he stumbled on one.
Finally they met on the only piece of flooring still
intact and faced each other, cross-legged, over the
boards.
"I think we should make camp here and continue
our investigation in the morning," said Carter.
Lod translated this for 'Ngai. She vehemently
shook her head. She gave a long dissertation in her
language, then urged Lod to translate.
" 'Ngai says this is a place of the dead. The dead
still dwell here. It has been difficult for her to remain
here as long as she has, but she has done so out Of
respect for a man she loves, even if he had no sense
about the dead. She cannot spend the night in such a
place, however."
Carter could tell by her erect posture that her mind
was made up. It would be pointless to try to talk her
into staying. "Where do you suggest we go, then?"
he asked.
"We could go back to the river," suggested Lod.
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"The mosquitoes will eat us alive, but if that's all
right, I guess we have no choice. "
"Do not worry about the mosquitoes, seåor," said
Lod, smiling. will make us a good camp.
Lod's idea of a good camp were roosts in a large
tree overhanging the river. He formed these by
bending branches together to make hammock-style
beds. He made one for 'Ngai and one for Carter right
next to it. Then, in another part of the tree, he made
one for himself.
It wasn't easy making love when the slightest
miscalculation could have sent them toppling forty
feet into a raging river, but making love was new to
'Ngai and she wasn't about to miss an opportunity. It
began shakily but ended like a ballet, each movement
slow and studied and wonderfully erotic.
Later, after her even breathing told Carter she was
asleep, he crawled out onto one of the large
branches. The river moved by with a steady gurgle
and the moon was still high.
What disturbed him most about the destruction of
Perlman's camp was not the who or why. There were
many political factions, any one of which, had they
found out about Perlman, would have wanted him
eliminated. The sticking point in Carter's mind was
the how.
The buildings had each been blown up, but by
what? He had to rule out mortar fire. Each building
had been a direct hit. No mortar team in the world
could be that accurate.
The buildings might have been dynamited in-
dividually, but the people living in those structures
had been caught unawares. How could sixteen
separate dynamite charges have been set without
anyone knowing. then detonated simultaneously?
What was more, the debris had all been blown
NICK CARTER
away from the center of the camp. Why?
They hadn't found any weapons. Either Perlman's
men had been unarmed, or all the weapons had been
picked up after the massacre and taken away. Carter




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had been caught unawares. How could sixteen
separate dynamite charges have been set without
anyone knowing. then detonated simultaneously?
What was more, the debris had all been blown
NICK CARTER
away from the center of the camp. Why?
They hadn't found any weapons. Either Perlman's
men had been unarmed, or all the weapons had been
picked up after the massacre and taken away. Carter
promised himself he would look for cartridges when
he went back in the morning. The cartridges would
tell the story.
He lay for a long time looking over the river and
then climbed back up to 'Ngai's nest. She was sleep-
ing peacefully, her mouth slightly open. Such an ex-
traordinarily beautiful child of nature, he thought,
settling in beside her. It wouid be a shame to leave
her.
He was about to close his eyes when he felt a vibra-
tion among the branches. It felt like something heavy
making its way across the tree. He turned his head
slightly. It wasn't one animal, but two. Two black
shapes moving stealthily from branch to branch.
At first he thought they were jaguars out for an
easy meal. Then he remembered that jaguars never
hunt in pairs.
Whatever they were, they were getting closer.
Cautiously he edged Hugo out of his waistband. He
was going to have to be careful. The slightest move-
ment would be picked up and transmitted through
the limbs of the tree.
Carter put the knife between his teeth and ever so
gently eased himself out of the nest.
The pair had split up. One was climbing along the
network of branches above, while the other was ap-
proaching from below. Obviously this pair had
worked together before, the one frightening the
quarry down the tree into the clutches of the other.
Pretty neat little trap, thought Carter, only he
wasn't about to get caught in it.
The two continued to close in. Silently, Carter's
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powerful arms and legs carried him higher into the
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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tree until he was above the entire scene, looking
down.
One Of the black figures was now clearly visible
against the moonlit water. It wasn't a cat at all, but a
man, naked, with a knife in his hand.
With a yell, Carter dropped on him, grabbing a
branch just above and swinging, kicking him hard
with his feet.
Carter surprised him. The attacker lost his grip
and, with a cry, plummeted into the river.
The commotion woke Lod, who looked up and
saw the second man close at hand. The second man,
seeing Lod awake, made a leap for the platform of
branches on which Lod was lying. He barely caught
it, and held on with one hand while the rest of him
dangled in midair.
Lod began to beat the intruder furiously with his
walking stick, shouting obscenities in his native
language, but the man held on. Carter righted
himself and prepared for another leap.
But 'Ngai, too, was awake. Before Carter could
move, she bounded through the foliage, grabbed a
vine, and swung into the man.
The impact of her small body was just enough to
dislodge him. He fell through the branches, swinging
his arms wildly, and hit the ground hard. Then he
jumped up and ran off as quickly as he could.
When it was over, 'Ngai climbed up and put her
arms around Carter. She was trembling.
"Nice job," he told her, and together they went
over to check on Lod.
Carter assumed the old man would also be
frightened, but instead Lod was furious. "Stupid
Mumu," he shouted, shaking his fist even though the
man had long since fled. He followed this with
another string of epithets Carter couldn't under-
stand. ' 'l was afraid this would happen, senor."
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"Who or what is a mumu?" asked Carter.
"Indians. Distant cousins of my tribe."
"Don't you get along?"
"Definitely not, senor. We hate each other. We
have been feuding for many, many generations. They
kill us on sight and we kill them. Mostly we stay out
of each other's way. "
Carter remembered something Sergeant Tiez said
about the Indians killing one another off before his
men could get to them. ' 'Are they likely to come
back?" he asked.
"No, senor, they are cowards. It is not likely we
will see them again, although we must be careful.
This is their territory."
"l see. You should have told me that to begin with.
Nevertheless, if we're going to spend the night here,
we're going to have to stand guard. I'll take the first
shift. I 'It wake you, Lod, when it's your turn."
"Si, senor."
The night passed without further incident. In the
morning Carter found a crane's nest floating in a
pool in a backwater a few hundred yards upriver. He
took out the eggs and cooked them in their shells for
Lod and 'Ngai.
When they had finished eating, the three of them
started back to the site of Perlman's camp. Carter ex-
plained to Lod that he wanted to look for cartridges
on the ground. If they could find some, it might go a
long way toward explaining what had happened
there.
They had turned in from the river and were walk-
ing under an overhang of large trees, when a man
suddenly dropped from the branches above and con-
fronted them on the path. He was joined by another
two from the bushes nearby, and when Carter looked
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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back, he saw two more emerge from the bushes be-
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back, he saw two more emerge from the bushes be-
hind.
One of the men, apparently their leader, began ha-
ranguing Lod in his own language. Meanwhile,
Carter sized them up. They were small, like Lod and
'Ngai, but extremely sturdy-looking. They were
naked except for loincloths, and while they didn't
seem to be armed, each man had an ornate tube in his
belt that Carter took to be a blowgun, probably com-
plete with poison darts.
Lod translated for Carter: "He says we are tres-
passing. He wants us to leave. He demands to know
who you are and what you are doing here. "
*'Tell him I'm from the white father. I've come to
avenge the white father's death. "
Lod chattered for a moment, while Carter watched
the leader. The mention of the white father seemed
to have a strong effect on him,
"Tell him there are more whites coming," Carter
told Lod. "Many, many more unless we find who
killed the white father and that person is surrendered
to us.'
When he heard this, the leader looked defiant.
Obviously he knew something about what had hap-
pened. He shouted at Lod for some time and ges-
tured angrily in the direction of the camp and at
Carter. When he was done, Lod turned to Carter.
' 'He says we should not try to scare him. He says
we know whites killed the white father. He says a
jungle cat came and killed the white father and
destroyed the white father's camp. He says if we
don't leave right now, they will kill us all. He doesn't
like whites, he says. Whites killed his son."
"What the hell is a jungle cat?" asked Carter.
' 'You mean like a jaguar or leopard?"
Lod shrugged.
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NICK CARTER
Meanwhile, one of the leader's subordinates had
realized how beautiful 'Ngai was and was starting to
flirt. He tugged at her dress. She pressed herself
closer to Carter and glared angrily at her admirer.
But he wouldn't be dissuaded. He smiled and con-




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gwcaw•sxeaæ
' 'You mean like a jaguar or leopard?"
Lod shrugged.
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NICK CARTER
Meanwhile, one of the leader's subordinates had
realized how beautiful 'Ngai was and was starting to
flirt. He tugged at her dress. She pressed herself
closer to Carter and glared angrily at her admirer.
But he wouldn't be dissuaded. He smiled and con-
tinued to finger her clothing. Finally he made a grab
for the top of her dress. She kicked him in the groin,
and he doubled over.
Using this as a distraction, Carter grabbedthe man
closest to him, spun him around, and wrenched his
arm in a hammerlock. Then he snatched the blowgun
from his belt.
He didn't know if these Indians used curare or not,
but if they did, they'd know what a potent poison it
was and what a scratch from a blowgun dart tipped
with it could do.
He pointed the blowgun at the leader. The man
looked very frightened.
'*Tell him to have his man leave the woman
alone," Carter toid Lod.
Lod quickly translated and the Indian leader mo-
tioned his man back.
"Good," said Carter. He released the man he was
holding and shoved him into the group that was
forming around the leader. "Tell them we're friends.
That we mean no one harm. Tell them we want to
talk about the white father. "
" But senor—" Lod protested.
"No buts, my friend. Tell them."
Lod translated, albeit reluctantly, and the Mumu
leader listened, all the while trying to burn holes in
Carter with his eyes.
When Lod finished, the Indian leader said some-
thing, then Lod turned back to Carter. "He says,
'Since when does a white man want to talk to the
Mumu?' He also wants to know why you don't have




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a gun. You're the first white man he's ever seen who
didn't carry a gun. "
"Tell him I don't need a gun. Tell him J am power-
ful without a gun. Tell him the men who killed the
white father were bad men and must be stopped.
Have him tell me anything he can about these men."
It took several seconds for Lod to relay all this,
while Carter kept an eye on the group. 'Ngai clung to
his waist. After her experience with Sergeant Tiez,
she didn't trust strange men.
The Mumu leader talked for almost a minute when
Lod was through, and Carter noticed his tone was
changing. It just went to prove the old saw, Carter
thought: a man can't keep a fighting stance forever.
Sooner or later he'll break down and be friends.
"He says white men came and the cat destroyed
the camp," Lod said, translating. "Then the white
men left and have not come back. "
"What cat? What's he talking about?"
Lod tried to find out, and it required much more
conversation than Carter would have thought. Fi-
nally Lod said, 'WA cat with guns. t'
This made no sense to Carter. "Have him describe
it. "
Lod started to work on this, he and the Mumu now
speaking in conversational tones, when suddenly it
dawned on Carter.
'*He doesn't mean a real cat. He means cat like
caterpillar! ' 'e
Lod looked at Carter, completely puzzled.
"Don't you see? The men who built the camp must
have used caterpillar clear the
jungle. That's where he got the name. A cat with
guns would be a tank! No wonder the debris all flew
away from the center Of the camp. The tank rolled in
and fired from a central location. The shells blew
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everything in the opposite direction. Ask him where
the tank—the cat with guns—went after it destroyed
the camp. "
While Lod worked on getting this information,
Carter's head was spinning. So there was a tank in
Paraguay. That changed everything!









NINE
After much deliberating and chattering back and
forth, Lod finally determined that while the Mumu
men knew the location of a road the "jungle cat"
often used, they did not know where the cat came
from or where it went. When Carter asked why not,
Lod replied, "Because they are cowards, seåor.
When the cat comes out, they hide in their huts
behind their wives and children. "
"Will they take us to this road?"
Lod asked, then said, "Yes, they say they will take
us, but that the cat comes out only at night and there
is no way to tell which night. It may come out tonight
and it may not."
"How far is the road?"
Lod said a few phrases, then listened as the Mumu
leader talked. Finally he said, "It is difficult to tell.
They say half a day's journey, but they are good
woodsmen and travel very fast.
It might take us
much longer. Anyway, he says we have to cross the
river. "
Carter deliberated. Half a day's journey into
hostile territory was dangerous enough for him, but
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for Lod and 'Ngai it would mean a life-threatening
situation. He didn't want to take the risk, and yet a
tank represented as much firepower as half the
Paraguayan army. It was imperative that he find it
and determine who was using it.
said Carter. "Tell them we put our-
"All right,"
selves in their hands, but, Lod, you and 'Ngai don't
have to go. As a matter of fact, maybe it would be
better if you two went back upriver. This is my job. I
don't want anyone getting hurt because of it. "
"Very well, senor i"
Carter didn't think Lod would put up much of a
fight. He suspected the older man was uncomfortable
with the thought of a long overland trek into Mumu
territory. But 'Ngai was another matter. She would
never readily consent to being left behind.
' 'You'd better tell 'Ngai for me, too," said Carter.
Lod started to explain, but from the girl's expres-
sion, Carter could see he'd guessed right. She
stamped her foot and looked at Carter with a mixture
of dismay and disbelief.
"Explain to her that it's simply too dangerous.
There is no reason for her to risk her life."
Lod hastily repeated what Carter said, elaborating
on it a good deal, Carter suspected, but the girl
looked far from pacified.
When Lod had finished, it was her turn. She spoke
for several minutes, a diatribe punctuated every now
and then by stabbing an angry finger into the old
man's chest.
The Mumu men found this extremely amusing.
They smiled and shook their heads.
Finally Lod turned to Carter. "She wants to know
what she did to deserve such treatment. Hasn't she
helped you all along? Didn't she take you in when
you were running from the men in the camp and
didn't she assist you last night in the tree when we
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were attacked? I'm sorry, seöor. I tried to reason
with her."
"Tell her how dangerous it will be. Tell her all
she'll be able to do is stand in the distance and
watch."
Lod translated, listened to her reply, then said,
"She doesn't care for herself. She wants to be there
to make sure nothing happens to you. i'
"Tell her it's impossible. Tell her she really must
go back. "
"You tell her,"
said Lod. He straightened the
satchel's strap on his shoulder, took his walking
stick, and walked several paces back on the path and
stood, his back to the group of them.
'Ngai looked at Carter expectantly.
Meanwhile, the Mumu tribesmen were enjoying
this altercation immensely. They were afraid to laugh
openly, hiding their smiles and chuckles behind their
hands.
Carter looked down at the girl. She really was
lovely and as capable in a fight as any woman he'd
ever met.
"All right," he said at last. "But you'll follow
orders, and if I have to leave you at some point,
you'll just have to wait patiently until I get back,"
When she realized he'd relented, her joy was
boundless. She jumped up and down like a school-
girl. In spite of his reservations, Carter was heartened
to see it.
"What about you, Lod?" Carter asked.
The old man had turned around when he heard
'Ngai rejoicing and was now standing a short dis-
tance away, shaking his head with disapproval.
"Of course I'm coming," he said. "I can't let you
take a young woman into Mumu country without my
help. But trust me, senor, no good will come of it.
The Mumu are not smart enough to know when you
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are doing something for their own good."
As it turned out. Lod had been right not to take the
Mumu estimates of distance too seriously. By noon
they had only just crossed the river and the Mumu
leader, whose name, Lod discovered, was Boro, as-
sured them they had traversed only half the distance
to the road.
Sometime in the afternoon they came to a Mumu
village. Here they were objects of great curiosity,
Doorways filled with gawkers, work stopped, and
fields emptied until they passed.
The sun was setting when Boro stepped out onto
an outcropping of rock and pointed into the trees
below. This, he said, was the road of the jungle cats.
Carter stepped out to see for himself. A thorough-
fare, unpaved and ungraveled, had been cut into the
jungle. It extended from the south in the direction of
the river to the north in the direction Of San Pedro.
"When do they come?" asked Carter.
Lod translated and Boro replied.
"Only at night," Lod said.
"Then we'll make camp here where we can see the
greatest portion of the road," said Carter.
This evoked more discussion between Lod and
Boro, after which Lod said, "They say this is good.
It is not wise to get too close to the cat, senor. It has
good ears and good eyes. "
Of course it would, thought Carter. Tanks have in-
frared sensors and high-sensitivity mikes to detect the
enemy.
After assurances that the cat came out only very
late, Carter suggested they build a fire and have a
meal. This met with general approval, and while
wood was gathered and provisions brought out, Car-
ter stood on the edge of the precipice, looking down
at the road and thinking hard.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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so far, the trip into Mumu territory had been
largely uneventful. Lod and 'Ngai and their six
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wood was gathered and provisions brought out, Car-
ter stood on the edge of the precipice, looking down
at the road and thinking hard.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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so far, the trip into Mumu territory had been
largely uneventful. Lod and 'Ngai and their six
Mumu escorts had gotten along admirably in spite Of
old Lod's predictions. But if they spotted the tank
that night, Carter would have to follow it to see
where it went. That meant he would have to leave
'Ngai in Lod's care, and while he trusted Lod, the oid
man was certainly no match for six Mumus if they
decided they wanted the girl. There had been no
repetition of the clothes-grabbing incident of before,
but then Carter had been there to see that there
wasn't. What would happen when he was gone?
The meal was long since over, the stars had come
out, and the moon, for the third night in a row, had
risen and climbed well into the sky, when they heard
the first faint rumblings in the south.
Boro was the first to hear them. He grew excited
and told his men to be quiet. Then they all listened,
and it became obvious something large and mechani-
cal was coming their way from the direction of the
river.
The half-dozen Mumu all looked at one another,
and Carter could see they were afraid. 'Ngai, too,
standing at his side, held him more tightly as she
watched down the road. Only Lod seemed to be able
to remain calm.
"The devil comes, " he said gravely.
Carter extricated himself from 'Ngai's arm. "l
must go now," he said in English.
She looked at him. horrified.
"No, I must. I have to find out where that thing is
going. "
She started to fling her arms around his neck to
hold him back, but he caught her wrists and held
them at arm's length, looking at her. "Lod! Explain
to her, will you? Remind her of her promise to wait
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NICK CARTER
Lod came up behind her, gently putting his old
hands on her shoulders. He whispered something to
her in the jungle language they both knew. She let
herself be led away, although she didn't stop looking
at Carter.
"Keep an eye on her, Lod. I'm leaving her in your
care."
"Do not worry, senor. And be careful."
Before leaving the camp, Carter stopped briefly
and nodded to Boro. "Thank you," he said.
The Mumu leader nodded respectfully in return
and watched as Carter headed down the stony path
toward the road.
Carter figured the tank would have to stick to the
road. The jungle, he knew, wasn't good for tanks.
Vegetation became tangled in their treads, and the
jungle noises and animal life confused their sensors.
So if he wanted to hitch a ride, the road was his best
bet.
When he reached the road, the tank was still a
good distance away. Its huge headlight beams had
only just separated into two distinct points of light.
He found a large tree that looked as if it would
serve, complete with a stairway of lichen. He scram-
bled up its trunk and out onto one Of its thick
branches overhanging the road.
Carter had assumed the tank was on the prowl.
This was the way it had been described to him, as
leaving a central point, reconnoitering, then return.
ing to that point. Consequently, the Killmaster fig-
ured it would not be traveling very fast, but slowly,
searching or surveying, or whatever it was doing.
Looking back later he would realize this was an
unwarranted assumption, but at the time he thought
he would have no trouble dropping onto the tank
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from above, riding to wherever it stopped, then slip-
ping off undetected.
But as he waited, watching the two lights growing
brighter and wavering as the huge vehicle bounded
toward him, he realized it was going much faster than
he'd thought. This was no search and survey mission.
The tank was going somewhere and it was going there
at a good clip.
Carter climbed back down to the ground. The tank
was getting closer. He crouched down in the weeds by
the side of the road and waited. The tank roared past
and Carter began running after it.
Carter had been running to keep in shape long
before it had become a craze. He'd done very well in
a few marathons, and although he knew he couldn't
keep up with the tank, he thought he could keep close
enough to at least see where the tank was going.
He ran for what he guessed was an hour, then he
came to the crest of a small hill. To his right the
underlying strata of limestone had collapsed, leaving
a sheer cliff that was a tangle of vines and weeds. In
the moonlight he could see that the road hairpinned
up ahead, doubling back farther down the crest of
the hill.
He figured he could save time if he climbed down
the cliff and waited for the tank down there.
The cliff didn't look all that difficult. Pieces of
jagged rock crowned its edge, which would help him
maintain a grip.
He took hold and eased himself down to the end of
the first stratum. Here there were more jagged rocks.
He took hold of these and eased himself down to the
end of the second.
He was now ten feet below the edge of the cliff.
Too far to climb back, but as he looked over his
shoulder, he realized he'd miscalculated. The rock
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NICK CARTER
face below him was perfectly smooth for the next
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end of the second.
He was now ten feet below the edge of the cliff.
Too far to climb back, but as he looked over his
shoulder, he realized he'd miscalculated. The rock
108
NICK CARTER
face below him was perfectly smooth for the next
twenty feet.
He struggled with himself for the next few min-
utes, trying to decide what to do. The only thing, it
seemed, was to go on, no matter how impossible it
looked.
He experimented with a handhold, changed it,
then tried another. Nothing worked. He could
change his position laterally, but he couldn't climb
up or down. He was stuck.
Then he heard the tank. It was coming around the
hill and would soon be directly under him. If he
didn't hurry, he was going to lose it.
If this were like most limestone cliffs, he thought,
it would end in a slope of broken rock that wasn't
nearly as steep. This was where the plant life usually
began, and because they were growing in solid rock,
the plants generally didn't grow very tall. All he
could see below him was a grayish-green mass that
looked like the tops of trees, but they might not be
trees at all, just short shrubs, and the ground might
not be as far away as he thought.
At any rate, he figured, it was worth a try.
He pushed away from the rock and let himself fall.
A split second later, as he crashed through the first
leaves, he realized he'd made a mistake. The distance
to the bottom was further than he'd thought, much
further.
Every jumper makes a calculation as to when he'll
reach bottom. Even if the starting point is absurdly
high, unconscious messages are sent to feet and legs
as to when the downward motion will stop. The
world seemed to yawn out before Carter. an onrush-
ing vertical landscape with no end in sight. There
wasn't much he could do except let gravity do its
worst.
Then suddenly something caught him, something




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wasn't much he could do except let gravity do its
worst.
Then suddenly something caught him, something
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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elastic that caused him to bounce several times before
he came to a halt.
At first he was too dumbstruck to react, but slowly
he began to recover. Lifting his hand, he examined
what it was that had saved him. It was a net of some
kind, or rather several nets layered one on top of
another. He pulled out Hugo and cut himself down.
The nets were interwoven with bits of colored
cloth, red, yellow, brown. He realized he'd fallen
into somebody's camouflage rigging. Something had
been stored against the base of the cliff and disguised
to hide it from the air.
He didn't have to go far to see what it was. Stand-
ing above him in the pale moonlight was a rocket
launcher, complete with six surface-to-surface mis-
siles.
Carter made a low whistle. First a tank, now a
rocket launcher. These things constituted big politi-
cal power in a tiny country like Paraguay. But power
for whom?
He ducked underneath the netting and began run-
ning in a low crouch for the road.
A shiver went through him. This was big, really
big. Perlman's camp with its few hundred men was
small potatoes compared to this.
The tank ground to a halt somewhere down the
road. He heard voices and the sound of a gate being
opened. He crept closer for a better look.
The tank's driver had opened his hatch and was
talking to three soldiers. Each of them had on jungle
fatigues. and although it was difficult to tell at that
distance, it looked as though each of them was carry.
ing a brand-new Uzi as welli
Anderson's men, thought Carter. So that was who
this equipment belonged to.
Beyond the soldiers was a twenty-foot-high chain
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NICK CARTER
stroke of -luck, Carter had fallen inside the com-
pound. To the left of the fence was a concrete build-
ing that looked like a pumping station.
Carter thought that was probably just how it was
listed in the local records—a pumping station—when
in fact it was the guardhouse for a cache of military
equipment.
That realization set Carter to thinking. So far, he'd
seen the rocket launcher and the tank. But as he
looked backs even at a distance of fifty yards, the
rocket launcher was invisible in its camouflage. Did
that mean there was more equipment there and he
just couldn't see it?
The compound, from what Carter could see, con-
sisted of the fence. the guardhouse, and a large apron
of gravel, presumably the parking lot for the men
working at the pumping station. Surrounding the
apron was thick jungle vegetation, some of which
concealed the rocket launcher. If there was more
equipment, thought Carter, it would be concealed in
those trees.
Carter decided to survey the area, Keeping to the
undergrowth, he skirted the parking lot. In a few
minutes he came to an enormous mass of vines and
leaves. He looked closely and thought he could see
the threads of netting peeking out in the moonlight.
He moved closer, pulled back the vines, and found
himself staring at the hub of an enormous tire. He
took out Hugo and cut away more of the netting.
This process took several minutes, longer than it
might have, but he had to be quiet. The tank driver
and soldiers were still talking only a hundred yards
away.
Finally he'd done enough cutting. He eased back
the camouflage. Underneath was the hood and cab of
a half-track personnel carrier, the kind that also car-
ried rockets.
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Hastily, he replaced the netting and moved on to
another clump of trees. This too had netting mixed in
with the foliage. He cut it back and found the gear
wheels and treads of what looked to be an amphib.
ious tank.
Carter continued his survey. In the end he found
another tank, another personnel carrier, and several
large field cannon, the kind that can level a small city
from more than two miles away.
Carter returned to the edge of the gravel. The tank
driver and the crew of soldiers had parked the new
arrival, camouflaged it, and were now heading back
across the gravel, laughing and talking, on their way
to the guardhouse.
Anderson had been smuggling this stuff up the
river, thought Carter, then driving it up here at night
and stashing it. The Mumu thought it was always the
same tank, but they were too frightened and naive to
realize it was a different piece of equipment each
time. It also explained the huge stockpile of gasoline
back at Anderson's camp. He'd need a lot of gasoline
to run all this stuff.
Carter knew he had to report to Washington as
soon as he could. It might require U.S. intervention
down here after all. Congress wouldn't like it, but
that was the way things went.
He was going to have to get out of there, make a
dash for the river, right then, immediately. No going
back, no good-byes to Lod or 'Ngai. There simply
wasn't time. If Stroessner died in the interim, Ander-
son would make his move. Then it would be too late.
Anderson would set himself up as the sovereign gov-
ernment of Paraguay and he'd have every right to
repel an invasion from a foreign power, and Para-
guay would be saddled with another strong-arm dic-
tator for a long time to come.
The soldiers had closed and locked the fence gate.
112
NICK CARTER
No doubt they would also post a sentry. But the
sentry wouldn't expect to be jumped from inside the
fence. There was an advantage in that. Carter had




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ernment of Paraguay and he'
ave every ng t to
repel an invasion from a foreign power, and Para-
guay would be saddled with another strong-arm dic-
tator for a long time to come.
The soldiers had closed and locked the fence gate.
112
NICK CARTER
No doubt they would also post a sentry. But the
sentry wouldn't expect to be jumped from inside the
fence. There was an advantage in that. Carter had
only to wait until the other men settled down. Then
he'd make his move.
Suddenly a figure emerged into the pool of light
that illuminated the outside of the guardhouse.
Carter stared, but he couldn't believe his eyes. It was
'Ngai!
Frantically he started moving through the under-
growth. He had to get to her in time. He had to warn
her.
But it was too late. One of the soldiers had already
spotted her.
"Halt!" he caned, failing on one knee and bring-
ing up his gun.
Carter stopped. There was nothing he could do.
There were too many of them and they were too well
armed.
Christ, he hoped she had the good sense not to
run!
She froze in the light. For a sickening moment
Carter's heart skipped, waiting for the shot. But the
tank driver put a hand on the soldier's head.
"Wait a minute," he said.
He ran forward, pulling out his gun. When he
reached 'Ngai, he grabbed her arm and held it up
triumphantly.
"See?" he called back. "It's just an Indian girl! "
Carter sighed with relief. He'd forgotten the effect
that face and body had on men. Besides, a girl out
here was a commodity, not a human being.
The soldiers ran up, while the tank driver kept
'Ngai's arm held high to show her off to best ad-
vantage.
'Ngai was too frightened to be modest. She let
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'Ngai was too frightened to be modest. She let
them spin her around and gawk, but her eyes darted
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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here and there, anxiously probing the darkness.
The soldiers were ecstatic. They whooped and
laughed as they looked at the girl.
Four men in a remote jungle outpost and a beauti-
ful Indian girl, thought Carter. That's the stuff sol-
diers' dreams are made of.
The soldiers laughed and shouted, punching each
Other like schoolboys over their good fortune. One of
them grabbed 'Ngai and began leading her into the
guardhouse. She was too frightened to resist.
Carter blamed himself, cursing his decision to
allow her to come with him across the river. Now he
was going to have to do something to rectify the situ-
ation.
He dashed across the gravel and peered in the
dusty guardhouse window. They'd tied 'Ngai to the
bedstead of a cot. She sat on it, looking forlorn and
lost. Two of the soldiers stood over her, leering,
while the third rummaged through a duffle in a cor-
ner of the room. The tank driver sat at a table, shuf-
fling cards.
Why the cards? wondered Carter. Then he realized
they were going to gamble to see who got her first.
They probably spent a good deal of time out here
gambling.
Suddenly the third soldier pulled a bottle from the
duffle and held it up, much to everyone's delight.
Carter recognized it immediately. Caöa, the same
thing Juan had used to drug him. It was potent
enough in its own right, even undoctored.
Four lonely men. one terrified girl, cards, and
alcohol. What a combination, thought Carter. Not
only was this going to delay his report to Washing-
ton, but in order to get 'Ngai out, he was going to
have to mess the place up. Anderson was sure to
realize what had happened and that the secret of his
little weapons cache was out. If Anderson were
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smart, he'd make his move immediately, regardless
of Stroessner's condition, putting Washington only
that much further behind.
Funny, reflected Carter as he pushed through the
weeds toward the building's rear, the chain reaction
one little slipup could cause.
He found the electrical generator and pulled the
vegetation from it. As he'd suspected, it was an Old
type, run on gasoline. They probably used it only at
night to run the lights and the alarm system.
It probably broke down once a night, too, he
thought. Well, it was going to break down again.
He pulled the plug wire and the engine chugged to
a stop. Inside the guardhouse the lights flashed off.
Shouts arose, along with a great deal of cursing.
Carter slipped back into the leaves.
In a few minutes the tank driver appeared, carry-
ing a monkey wrench and a toolbox. Carter had
hoped it would be him.
He came up to the generator and banged it stoutly
with the wrench. Nothing happened. More curses in
Spanish.
Carter rose out of the foliage and chopped him on
the back of the skull, rendering him instantly uncon-
scious. The man folded up like an accordian.
Quickly, Carter stripped off the man's shirt and
put it on, along with his hat. Then he strapped on the
sidearm. The man carried a .45 automatic, a gun big
enough to blow a fist-size hole in an oak door. Carter
checked to make sure it was loaded. Then he replaced
the plug wire, restarted the engine, and went around
to the door.
Inside, the lights were burning again.
"Good job, Jesus," one of the men said as Carter
came in.
"Hurry and sit down," said another.
"I've got
a great hand and I'm too hot to cool down." He
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to the door.
Inside, the lights were burning again.
"Good job, Jesus," one of the men said as Carter
came in.
"Hurry and sit down," said another.
"I've got
a great hand and I'm too hot to cool down." He
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
howled like a wolf and the others laughed.
115
Carter had his back to them, putting the toolbox
against the wall by the door. Casually, he unsnapped
the flap on the holster and as he stood up. he drew
out the .45.
"Buenos noches, sehores, " he said.
The men at the table stared at him. One dropped
his cards. Another groaned as though he'd been hit.
On the cot 'Ngai bounced up and down delight-
edly. "Nick, Nick!" she cried.
"You," said Carter, pointing to one of the sol-
diers, "untie the girl."
The man nodded, stood up slowly, and went over
to the cot.
Carter kept an eye on the other two, They had
recovered from their initial shock and were now
thinking of ways to subdue him. He could see it in
their faces.
The man freed 'Ngai, who made a dash for
Carter's side. Unfortunately, she had to cross his line
of fire on the men he was holding at bay. The man
sitting closest to Carter, seeing the opportunity,
made a lunge for the gun.
Carter fired. The slug caught the man full in the
face. His forward motion stopped immediately and
he was thrown back against the wall, his face a foun-
tain of blood.
Carter turned, but before he could get back
around, the second man dived. He caught Carter's
gun arm by the wrist, and the two of them went to the
floor, struggling for control of the gun.
The man's body pressed down on Carter's,
squirming, looking for leverage. Carter still had his
finger on the trigger, but he couldn't get the gun
turned in the right direction. It was caught between
the man's chest and his.
Meanwhile, the third man was shouting hysteri-




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finger on the trigger, but he cou n t get t e gun
turned in the right direction. It was caught between
the man's chest and his.
Meanwhile, the third man was shouting hysteri-
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NICK CARTER
cally above him. "Don't move!" he said. i'l've got
the girl!"
The man on top of Carter was fighting like a
wildcat now. His anger had gotten the better of him.
He kept forcing Carter down, trying to turn the gun.
Suddenly a shot went off and Carter's chest got
hot, then sticky wet. The man riding him went limp
and became dead weight. Carter pushed him off and
got up.
The third man's eyes were wild. Two of his friends
were dead, but he was too excited to react to it. He'd
gotten his gun and now held it against 'Ngai's head.
She cowered in his grip, her wide-open eyes focused
on Carter.
"Move over there," the soldier hissed, indicating
the far side of the room.
Carter obeyed. He backed up cautiously and sat
down on one of the beds.
A shortwave radio was set up on a table on the op-
posite side of the room from Carter. The soldier
dragged 'Ngai over to it and turned it on, all the
while keeping the gun pointed at her head.
The soldier contacted the radio operator at Ander-
son's camp and hastily explained what had hap-
pened. The crackling reply told him to sit tight.
Someone would be there to relieve him in thirty min-
utes.
The soldier hung up the microphone and looked at
Carter. "Looks like we're going to be here for a
while." On the wall was a large clock. It read 2:21.
The soldier sat in one of the chairs at the table. He
perched 'Ngai on his knee, keeping the gun to her
temple.
After several minutes of silence, he turned to
Carter. '%Aren't you Phil Royce?" he asked.
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from Anderson's camp. "That's right," said Carter.
"What of it?"
"Rumor has it you 're very rich. They say you came
down here to give Colonel Perlman money if you
could find him. Which, Of course, you won't. Be-
cause he's dead. "
"Who killed him?" asked Carter pointedly.
The man smiled. "How long do you think a man
with those ideals is going to last in a place like this?"
"I don't know," said Carter. "Maybe you're
right."
Minutes passed. The clock said 2:34. Carter and
'Ngai began to signal back and forth with their eyes.
She told him how sorry she was, and by his look, he
told her he forgave her.
More time passed.
Maybe the tank driver would come to and stumble
in the door, thought Carter. The driver might still be
disoriented enough for the Killmaster to use his body
as a shield, or, if propelled with the right leverage, it
could knock the soldier down long enough to make a
getaway. It was a slim hope, but it was the only one
Carter could think of. It depended for its success,
though, on having 'Ngai on his side of the room.
' 'Any reason why the girl can't sit with me?"
asked Carter. "You've got the drop on us. "
The soldier thought about it for a minute, then
shrugged and motioned to 'Ngai. At first she didn't
understand, then Carter beckoned to her and she
came over and sat beside him.
Now he was ready. All he had to do was wait until
the man outside came to.
But he didn't come to. The clock read 2:45.
"How much money do you have?" asked the sol-
dier.
"Not enough to make me happy," Carter replied.
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g 'But enough to get a man north?" asked the sol-
dier with a smile.
"Yeah," said Carter. "Enough to make him very
comfortable wherever he wanted to go. "
Carter shifted his position nervously on the bed.
The clock ticked. Another five minutes and Ander-
son's men would be there.
"What happened in camp after they discovered me
missing?" asked Carter.
"The colonel ranted and raved. Nothing unusual,
for him. They tore the place upside down, sent out
patrols in all directions. Of course we all knew it was
too late."
"Listen," said Carter in a let's-get-down-to-busi-
ness tone, "l left a lot of money in a suitcase back in
Perlman's quarters. It's yours if you want it, but let
the girl go. She's only going to end up dead or sleep-
ing with Anderson. You'll never get a chance at her
anyway."
The man considered a moment, then shook his
head. "I'd better not."
"Nobody knows about that money. I won't tell
anyone, either. It'll be our little secret. And I won't
mention the girl at all. I'll just say I busted in here
and started shooting the place up. You got the drop
on me and held me. But the girl's innocent. Besides,
she just lost her family a few days ago. Can't we give
het a break?"
Again the man shook his head. "What have the In-
dians ever done for me?"
"All right. I'm going to have to tell the colonel the
whole gruesome story. How you all found the girl
and got so excited I was able to sneak in here and
catch you practically with your pants down. He
should like that."
"Okay, okay," the man grumbled. "She can go."
Carter nodded to 'Ngai, indicating the door.
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oWWoiiålVfOUhdÄhe gir
and got so excited I was able to sneak in here and
catch you practically with your pants down. He
should like that."
"Okay, okay," the man grumbled. "She can go."
Carter nodded to 'Ngai, indicating the door.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
119
Under other circumstances she might have refused to
go, but she had been so thoroughly frightened by
what had happened, she gave Carter a last fond look,
then ran out the door.
Carter watched her go.
"We're not going to forget the money, now, are
we?" asked the soldier.
"Hell, no," said Carter. "You're entitled to all the
money I've got."
The man beamed broadly as the first of Ander-
son's jeeps pulled onto the gravel outside.









TEN
Anderson paced anxiously across the floor of his
small office, then stopped at the window and lifted
the blind. The sun was just rising. Its light cut the
dimness directly into Carter's eyes. He put up a hand
to shade them.
"Why didn't I have you killed to begin with?" An-
derson asked, more of himself than Carter. "l should
have had you shot when I had the opportunity. In-
stead I'm awakened at two-thirty in the morning to
the news that my security has been shattered and the
project I've spent half my life bringing to fruition is
in jeopardy. Not very pleasant, Mr. Cartert let me
tell you."
"You don't expect me to be sympathetic, do
you?"
Anderson swung around violently, his face livid.
"I'm getting very tired of your smart-alec attitude,
Mr. Carter!" he said sharply. "Why are you here?
What are you looking for? I'll find a way to make
you talk. And when I get my answers, I'm going to
kill you. I'll do it right out here in front where every.
one can see."
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Carter sat back in his chair. "Tell me, Colonel,
what drives a man like you? Unbridled ambition?
The hope of becoming the absolute master of some
small corner of the world? That kind of thing would
have disgusted Perlman. Is that why you killed
A twisted smile broke through on Anderson's lips.
"Perlman was a fool. He had some misbegotten idea
Of bringing about universal peace by training a better
soldier. Someday he thought nations would solve
their differences with mercenaries because nuclear
war was out of the question. He thought by creating
the perfect soldier, he was saving the world. The man
was hopeless. Meanwhile, this backward little coun-
try languished right in front of him, his for the ask-
ing. A man that stupid is better off dead, wouldn't
you say?
"But this is old business," Anderson went on im-
patiently. "What concerns me now is you. You've
broken my security and glimpsed my little secret.
And you were gone from this camp for two days.
Now the question is, did you pass the information on
to someone, or if I kill you, do I bottle the leak com-
Carter smiled. "You'll never know until it's too
late. Meanwhile, these master soldiers you've sup-
posedly created here will grow fat and bored waiting
for you to make a decision. "
Anderson stalked to the door. "Sergeant!" he
yelled angrily.
A soldier appeared almost immediately.
"Take Mr. Carter to his new quarters. Maybe we
can bake or starve the information out of him."
Carter had a fair idea what Anderson meant by
It didn't surprise him when his es-
"new quarters."
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cort nudged him toward the stockade at the end of
the parade ground.
As he was led in, Carter noticed most of the cages
were empty. The Indians who had once occupied
them had either been gunned down as "rabbits" or,
if he knew Anderson, merely shot in cold blood to
cut down on the cost of their upkeep.
The soldier took him to a cage isolated from the
rest, opened the door, and pushed him in.
*'Maybe now you'll stay put," he said, slamming
the door and locking it.
The cage was four feet square and only about four
feet in height. Carter could sit with his back against
one wall and press his feet against the opposite wall.
And this, he decided, was about all he could do. He
couldn't stand or walk, or even lie down.
A food dish lay in one corner. It had toothmarks
on it. Not human toothmarks, either. Carter had
seen marks like these before, in the slums of cities
like London and Hong Kong. Rats made marks like
these. He wondered what kind of rats they grew in
the jungle.
The day passed. Shadows grew long in the court-
yard. Carter had spent most of the time doing iso-
metric exercises and trying not to think about his
situation. But now as the light faded and darkness
came on, he found himself thinking of little else.
While he sat there. Carter thought, General Stroess-
ner was sinking toward death. When he finally died,
the news would be announced across the world and
Anderson would make his move. Then it would be
too late.
This thought made Carter furious and he spent a
good deal of time staring out at the darkening court-
yard wondering what he could do about it.
Finally, around midnight, an idea struck him. A
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bizarre idea. but one that just might get him out of
there in time to call Washington and start the wheels
in motion that would thwart Anderson. It depende




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too ate.
This thought made Carter furious and he spent a
good deal of time staring out at the darkening court-
yard wondering what he could do about it.
Finally, around midnight, an idea struck him. A
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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bizarre idea. but one that just might get him out of
there in time to call Washington and start the wheels
in motion that would thwart Anderson. It depended
for its success on certain quirks in Anderson's per-
sonality, but it just might work.
The next morning Carter awoke in a sweat. It was
hot, already hotter than any day he'd experienced in
Paraguay thus far and it was still very early. The sun
was just over the horizon, the sky an intense blue.
By midmorning the heat was stifling. Carter's cage
was in a direct line with the sun and its tin roof began
to act like a stovetop, roasting him inside. He real-
ized how lucky he was that most of the previous day
had been overcast. Sweat dripped from his face and
he felt as if he were in a steam bath. He drew himself
into the corner, the only triangle of shade available,
and waited.
As the sun ascended, even the little shade he'd
found began to disappear. His one leg and shoulder
were now fully exposed and the tin floor was too hot
to touch. He took off his clothes and sat on them,
but they provided little protection. It wasn't long
before the heat penetrated their lightweight fibers
and they became as bad as sitting on the floor, only
less comfortable.
At about one o'clock, shortly after the sun had
reached its zenith and the interior of the cage was like
a broiler, a soldier came, opened the door, and told
him to get out.
Carter found simple body movements difficult.
The tension of trying to escape the heat had cramped
the muscles of his legs and back so badly, he couldn't
climb out under his own power. After several ad-
monitions to do as he was told, the soldier resorted to
pulling him out bodily onto the hard-packed surface
of the courtyard.




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pulling him out bodily onto the hard-packed surface
of the courtyard.
NICK CARTER
The temperature of the courtyard must have been
well over a hundred degrees, but compared to the
ovenlike box he'd just been in, it felt cool and moist.
He stretched his aching body, then slowly got to his
feet.
"The colonel wants to see you," the soldier said
gruffly. He pushed Carter toward the door, almost
knocking Carter down.
Anderson was waiting on the front porch of his
small headquarters office. He sat in the shade in a
rattan chair and fanned himself with a palm-leaf fan.
"You look well-done," he said matter-of-factly
when Carter was brought to him. "Would you like to
talk, or shall we turn you over and do your other
side?"
"No," said Carter. "That's not necessary. Do you
mind if I sit down?"
"By all means."
The soldier brought out a stiff folding chair and set
it up for Carter, who sat on it. The soldier then re-
tired to the other side of the porch where he stood
watching silently, his gun ready.
Carter looked at Anderson. "I've decided to make
a clean breast of it," he said.
"Oh?" queried Anderson. "Why?"
"Because I have no wish to die of dehydration in
one of those hot-boxes of yours and because the
people who sent me here have no interest in you per
se. They don't even know you exist."
"And just who did send you?"
"That's not important. Let's say that I am Nick
Carter. The point is, I didn't come here to upset your
apple cart. I came here looking for Perlman. I re-
ceived my training from him, and I've always re-
spected him. He'd been gone over three years and his
wife wanted to know what had happened. Also, there
was the little matter of widow's benefits, which she
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couldn't collect as long as he was thought to be
alive. "
"So now that you've found that he's dead .
prompted Anderson.
"Now that I know he's dead, the book is closed.
My job is finished. The fact that I stumbled onto
your little secret was purely accidental. Personally. I
don't care if they hand you this whole blighted coun-
try. Stroessner's old. His power is waning. Some-
body's going to have to replace him. It might as well
be you."
"What about the people you work for?"
"The people I work for are interested in keeping
communism off the mainland of Latin America. You
don't have plans to invite Gorbachev over for a visit,
do you? You don't have Cuban advisors stashed
somewhere in the trees, maybe?"
Anderson smiled. "What you're saying, then, is
that you think I should release you. Just take you at
your word and let you walk out of here a free man?"
Carter glanced at the soldier at the other end of the
porch. The man was listening intently, hanging onto
every word.
"My personal opinion of you aside," Carter said,
"I don't regard you as a fool. But you are a man who
likes to gamble. I'm not wrong about that, am l?"
A sly smile appeared on Anderson's face. "What
are you driving at?"
"Only that you consider the men in your command
to be the greatest jungle fighters in the world. Why
not put them to a real test? Instead of pitting them
against Indians who may know the jungle but have
no idea how to fight, put them against a real
fighter."
"Yes, me. I'm willing to bet my life I can elude or
eliminate every man in your command."
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NICK CARTER
"All of them?"
"Yes, given a ten-minute head start and a bayonet
just as you gave the Indian boy that day, they'll
either never find me, or if they do, they'll wish they
hadn't."
Anderson's eyes narrowed. "You've got some
trick up your sleeve," he declared. "Help on the out-
side, perhaps?"
"If I had help on the outside, I'd be out of here by
now. I certainly wouldn't be spilling my guts to you.
Well, what do you say?"
"What do I get if I win?"
"The satisfaction of knowing you killed me.
That's something you can boast about when you're
president of Paraguay."
"You're crazy," said Anderson. ' 'You don't stand
a chance. "
"I'm not crazy. Just good. Better than any of the
bozos you've got around here. "
"We'll see about that. Sergeant, call a general
assembly. I want EVeryone on the parade ground in
combat dress in fifteen minutes."
The soldier saluted briskly, then ran off to execute
the order.
Carter sat back on the folding chair. Good fisher-
men know their fish. He'd figured out Anderson's
weakness and the man had risen to the bait. Now all
he had to do was really elude all these men and make
it to the river.
Carter honestly didn't know if he could do it. But
one thing was certain: it would be easier to die out in
the jungle where it was cool, than back in the stock-
ade, baking like a Sunday roast.
Fifteen minutes later the parade ground was full of
men, each of them sporting a brand-new submachine
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gun and a pistol in a holster. They all wore green,
gray, and brown camouflage fatigues, berets, and
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a e, a Ing ea unday roast.
Fifteen minutes later the parade ground was full of
men, each of them sporting a brand-new submachine
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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gun and a pistol in a holster. They all wore green,
gray, and brown camouflage fatigues, berets, and
backpacks with extra ammunition and supplies. They
stood at attention in neat rows and listened to Ander-
son address them from the front seat of his jeep.
Anderson, Carter noted, had also changed his
clothes for the occasion. His outfit matched his
men's, except for a gold star affixed to the center of
his beret.
There seemed to be an atmosphere of festivity per•
vading these proceedings, and Carter wondered if
this wasn't the first real combat any of them had ever
seen.
"And if you find this man," Anderson was saying,
pointing at Carter, "you're to kill him on sight and
report that you have done so. This will mark the end
of the maneuver and everyone will return to camp,
where I'm told the cooks will more than compensate
us for our efforts. Any questions?"
Carter was in the rear of Anderson's jeep. His
hands were tied in case he tried to get away pre-
maturely and rob them of the pleasure of hunting
him down. He had on the same pants and shirt he'd
been wearing for the past five days. He had not
shaved or bathed, and his last meal was with Lod,
'Ngai, and the Mumu tribesmen two days before. In
addition to this he was badly dehydrated from his
time in the cage. And yet, all in all, he felt as ready to
face the rigors of this test as he ever had or would.
Anderson had usurped Frank Perlman's camp and
murdered him. Carter had been trained by Perlman,
and in a way, he was Perlman's rneans of revenge.
said Anderson, finally coming to a
"All right,"
conclusion, "we have promised Mr. Carter here—
forget Phil Royce, his real name is Nick Carter and
he's an agent of the United States government—we



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he's an agent of the United States government
—we
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NICK CARTER
have promised Mr. Carter a ten-minute head start.
Now, we all know how hot it is, so let's get this thing
over with as soon as possible. "
He leaned across the seat and, pulling out a bay-
onet, cut Carter's bonds. then handed the blade to
him. ' 'Now, run, Mr. Carter," he said. '*Run like
you've never run before."








ELEVEN
Carter sprang from the jeep and dashed for the
gate to the camp. He fully expected to be shot down
in the first few steps. When he wasn't, he began to
think that maybe Anderson would keep his word and
he'd have a full ten minutes to prepare himself for
when Anderson gave the word and turned all that
manpower loose on him.
He figured Anderson would use the standard
pincer maneuver and try to trap him. In other words,
he would send out two flanks at angles to Carter's
direct path to the river. Those squads of jeeps would
quickly outdistance Carter, who was on foot. Then at
a certain predetermined moment the two columns
would halt their outward movements turn a quarter
turn, and move toward each other, trapping Carter in
the middle.
There was a way to avoid this, of course. He would
choose a course at an angle so wide of the river that
he would be outside the flanks. That might buy him
time on this end, but eventually he'd have to make it
up when he did aim for the river.
No, thought Carter, the best thing to do was to at-
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NICK CARTER
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tack one of the flanks outright and blow a hole in it.
Then his escape was guaranteed, at least for a while.
Hit them hard when they least expected it; that was
the ticket.
And if he was going to take on a large number of
men in a firefight, the best he could do for himself
was pick his own ground. That would give him some
advantage.
Carter ran until he found what he considered to be
the perfect spot. It was close to the road he was sure
at least one of Anderson's columns would be using.
There was good tree cover on both sides, and there
was a patch of grass so baked by the sun it was like
straw—ideal for the little deception he had planned.
He ran down into the weeds far enough to ensure
he wouldn't be seen and began tearing off his clothes.
When he had stripped to his shorts, he began fran-
tically tearing up the grass and stuffing it into his
shirt and pants. In a few minutes he'd created a fair
likeness of himself. It had no head, hands, or feet,
but the body looked very lifelike. He propped the
dummy in the bushes so that only the midsection
showed, then ran across the road to wait.
He made it just in time. A jeep full of Anderson's
men careened around the corner, spotted the
dummy, and screeched to a halt. The three men in
front fell facedown on the hood, and a .Tcaliber
machine gun mounted on the rear opened fire. The
little glade of trees was demolished by the hail of
machine gun bullets, including the dummy, which
danced like a puppet on a string. Carter winced to
think he might have been in those clothes.
When the smoke cleared, the three men in front
got out to survey the damage. The machine gunner
covered them. From across the road Carter took
three long strides, leaped onto the back of the jeep,
and plunged the bayonet into the gunner's back. The
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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man groaned, the audible expiration of his last
breath, and Carter pushed him out onto the grass.
The three men, who had been cautiously stalking
their way to the dummy, turned when they heard the




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gearh
O
covered them. From across the road Carter took
three long strides, leaped onto the back of the jeep,
and plunged the bayonet into the gunner's back. The
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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man groaned, the audible expiration of his last
breath, and Carter pushed him out onto the grass.
The three men, who had been cautiously stalking
their way to the dummy, turned when they heard the
noise the gunner had made. With shocked alarm on
their faces they saw Carter now had control of the
machine gun. One panicked, turned to run, stum-
bled, and fell. Another tried to bring his gun into
play and got his hand caught in the strap. The third
took a step, stopped, and looked at Carter uncer-
tainly. Carter pressed the firing mechanism and, in
three short bursts, cut them down.
He was still feeling the recoil when a canvas-
backed truck carrying thirty more men rounded the
corner. Carter pivoted and fired.
The windshield shattered into a thousand sparkling
slivers, then the truck, driverless and out of control,
rammed a tree, almost knocking it over. This
brought the broadside of the truck into Carter's
view.
He pressed the trigger again. The canvas jumped
like a windblown curtain. Inside, men screamed,
clawing each other, trying to get to the opening in
the rear. Each time one emerged, however, Carter
shifted his angle slightly and picked him off.
Then he concentrated on the canvas itself, Several
more bursts and the sun-dried fabric leaped into
flame. More screams as the flames grew higher. The
men inside began to panic, and shouting and pushing
one another, they jumped from the truck. Carter got
them before they hit the ground.
He continued to fire, raking the rear of the truck
again and again, until he was sure all the men in the
transport were dead. The truck was in flames.
Billows of black smoke stretched into the sky and his
nostrils became aware of the stench of burning flesh
filling the air.




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Suddenly a figure popped up near the driver's side
Of the jeep. One of the men had escaped from the
truck. He brought his Uzi up and started to fire.
Carter hoisted the heavy machine gun from its
mount and tossed it. It caught the man full in the
chest, knocking him over. Carter followed it down,
leaping on the man's stomach and kneeling on his
arms. Then he reached down and crushed the man's
Adam's apple with his thumbs.
Carter kept his hands rigid on the man's throat
long after he was sure the man had breathed his last,
then he looked up. The smoke from the truck was
beginning to tell a tale. The sky was full of it. The
other flank would be sure to see it and come running.
Their response would be to throw up a perimeter,
another trap from which he'd have to escape.
The Killmaster grabbed the Uzi of the man he'd
just strangled. It had a full clip in it and there were
two additional clips in his pocket. He gathered up the
ammunition, then he stripped off the man's pack and
ammo belt. He carried these things until he reached
cover, then he stuffed the belt full of the extra clips
and cinched it around his waist. Now he had the
bayonet, the gun, the ammo, and a pack of supplies.
He hoped it was all he would need.
He ran, putting as much distance between himself
and the burning truck as he could. Finally he felt he
could go no further, and he fell into a nest of under-
growth to rest.
Outside, the sun beat down like liquid fire. When
he'd left Washington, his skin had the vestiges of a
French Riviera tan, but now. without his clothes, the
sun was quickly searing his unprotected skin crim-
son. His back, legs, and arms all burned mercilessly.
It made pushing through the jungle like pushing
through barbed wire.
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He opened the backpack and started going through
it. A plastic •bottle of water, warm and brackish. He
drank it down. Tubes Of field rations like the ones
he'd seen Tiez and his men using that day. He
squirted the glop directly into his mouth and swai-
lowed it.
An engine was gunned not far away, then allowed
to rumble to an idle. The monkeys overhead stopped
chattering. Men were in the forest, beating the
bushes, looking for him. The perimeter had been es-
tablished and now they were closing in. It was like a
noose tightening around his neck. He was going to
have to get away.
He stuffed the empty tubes and water bottle back
into the pack. Then his hand hit something, some-
thing round. He brought it out to look at it. Matches
in a waterproof container.
Maybe there was a way out, he thought.
He ran to where the soft ground created a depres-
Sion behind a stand of three tall trees. Several pieces
of deadwood were lying on the ground, remarkably
dry considering the stratospheric humidity. He gath-
ered up handfuls of dried grass and put them in a
pile, then put the deadwood on top and lit it.
When he had a fair blaze going, he dropped in two
clips of the ammunition. He watched for a minute,
making sure the casings were getting good and hot,
then he took off running, this time in the direction
he'd heard the engine noise earlier.
He'd figured ten minutes before the casings got hot
enough to set off the shells. It took about five. Sud-
denly it sounded like a full-blown battle behind him.
Shots firing at random.
He stopped to listen. Movement fifty yards to his
left. He crouched inside a patch of fern. A jeep was
coming toward him, on its way to investigate the
noise. It bounded out of the thicket, flew across
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NICK CARTER
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and quickly disappeared into the trees again. It had





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Shots firing at random.
He stopped to listen. Movement fifty yards to his
left. He crouched inside a patch of fern. A jeep was
coming toward him, on its way to investigate the
noise. It bounded out of the thicket, flew across
134
NICK CARTER
several yards of ground, landed on all four wheels,
and quickly disappeared into the trees again. It had
had three men in it.
Carter quickly began to move in the direction from
which they'd come.
He had to assume the perimeter had been formed
with only one unit. If a backup unit had been em-
ployed, he was done for. They'd be waiting for him
up ahead and he'd easily be picked off.
But a backup was the kind of cautious, careful
planning Frank Perlman might engage in. Not a
cocksure sportsman like Anderson. Anderson would
assume one unit was enough.
Carter kept moving. After half of a mile he'd met
with no resistance, nor had he seen or heard anything
to indicate he would. He was in the clear, for the time
being.
Now, he thought, it was just a matter of outrun-
ning them. But that was the hard part. He was on
foot and they had jeeps and trucks. With their
greater mobility and speed, it wouldn't be long be-
fore they overtook him and set up another perimeter,
and he'd be forced to fight the same fight all over
again. He couldn't imagine doing this all the way to
the banks of the Paraguay.
And yet he realized a jeep or truck wouldn't do
him much good. He didn't know the roads, and even
if he did, Anderson's men owned them. He would
only run into trouble and end up having to abandon
the vehicle anyway.
No, he was better off on foot, but he was begin-
ning to see that although the Indians were not great
fighters, they had a distinct advantage in knowing the
jungle. The place was a maze of pathways and trails
that doubled back on one another or wound around
aimlessly, eating up his precious time.
A footfall on the path ahead alerted him. He hid





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a ou e ac on one anot er or woun
aimlessly, eating up his precious time.
A footfall on the path ahead alerted him.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
aroun
He hid
135
behind a tree. Another noise, very soft. Something
was coming his way. He couldn't tell, though, if it
were animal or human.
He pressed himself against the bark, fingering the
trigger of the Uzi. A shot now would give away his
position. On the other hand, he couldn't be too
careful. If one of Anderson's men had stumbled on
him, Carter would make sure he regretted it.
Whoever it was, he was coming closer. A light
Step. Maybe it was an animal. Carter decided he'd try
to scare it first.
"Don't move!" he hissed, swinging around to face
the intruder, his gun poised and ready.
On the path, looking every bit as startled as she
had in the lights of the guardhouse the night before,
was 'Ngai.
When she saw him, she threw her arms wide, ran
to him, and caught him up in a huge embrace. He
hugged her back, picking her up off the ground and
swinging her around. It was hard to tell who was hap-
Piest to see whom.
When he put her down, she started to chatter ex-
citedly in the mixture of chirps, grunts, and twitter-
ings that made up her language.
"No, no!" he said happily. "I'm the one who's
glad to see you! I was just thinking I need a guide to
get out of this place. "
She started to embrace him again, but he gently
pushed her away, his face now serious. "There's no
time for that now. You don't understand. I'm being
chased. The whole camp is after me."
But his stern expression and the tone of his voice
weren't enough to dissuade her. Hungrily, she began
kissing his chest.
"No," he said firmly, pulling her face up so he
could look at her. "Not now." He took her arm and
hurried her down the path. "The men in the camp"
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—he made a machine-gun motion with his fingers,
then cast a worried look behind him—sgare chasing
me." She caught on, took him by the hand, and be-
gan to lead.
"The river," he said, pantomiming flowing water,
must go to the river and find a boat."
From the position of the sun Carter guessed it was
about four in the afternoon when she led him onto a
grassy plateau nestled between large stands of trees.
Even though they were relatively high up, the ground
was still moist and soft. She kept to a path that fol-
lowed a network of tree roots that made the ground
more solid. Carter noticed the path was well worn.
Up ahead he saw a plume of smoke. They came
over a rise and he saw that the trail ended in a cluster
of thatched huts. On the ground in front of one hut
was a fire and sitting at the fire, his back to them,
was a familiar figure.
"Lod!" exclaimed Carter when they reached him.
Lod looked up. ' 'Senor Nick!" he cried happily.
standing and grabbing Carter's arm. ' 'So she found
you. She's been searching the woods ever since you
were captured. How did you manage to escape?"
"It's a long story. As it turns out, Colonel Ander-
son is a man who likes to gamble for high stakes."
"You mean he let you go?" asked the old man
wonderingly.
"We have a bet. My life against his reputation that
I can get away from his men."
The oid man nodded. "That explains why the
whites came and didn't even stop," he said.
"They've been through here already?" asked Car-
ter.
"Sii but do not fear, senor. They will not come
back again. Not for a while at least. Come, you can
hide with the others. t'
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"What others?" asked Carter, but the old man
didn't reply. Lod turned and led the way into the
trees behind the huts. He stopped at the edge of a
small grassy area and knocked with his stick heavily
on the ground. Then he stooped and threw over a
trapdoor that had been made of split logs and con-
cealed under slabs of moss.
The late-afternoon sun pierced the shadows of a
narrow underground room. In it, pressed together
like sardines, were five or six young Indian boys,
their eyes all staring up suspiciously. Carter guessed
the average age was about fifteen.
"The whites think they've depleted our stock,"
said Lod, "but they haven't. This, senor, is our fu-
ture. "
"Amazing," said Carter. ' 'How many of these
little hiding places do you have?"
"Many senor. Not as many as before, unfortu-
nately. Some of our young men have been careless.
But enough. Our race will not die. "
Carter smiled at the old man. "You're a wise
leader, Lod. The world should meet adversity as well
as you. But can't stay here tonight. I have to get to
the river as soon as possible. I must catch the supply
boat from San Pedro. "
"Stay in there a while longer. my young friends,"
the old man said to the boys. He dropped the door
with a gentle thud. ' 'It sounds terribly urgent,
senor," he said, looking up at Carter.
"It is. A great deal depends on it. Maybe the fate
of everyone in Paraguay."
"Indeed, that is urgent, senor. But it will not be
easy. The whites will be keeping an eye on the river
trail, and travel will be difficult. The moon gets
brighter with each night."
"I must try."
"Well, you are in good hands," said the old man,
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NICK CARTER
looking affectionately at 'Ngai. "She knows the for-
est as well as anyone. "
c 'l know," said Carter, "and if she remembers to




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trail, and travel will be difficult. The moon gets
brighter with each night."
"I must try."
"Well, you are in good hands," said the old man,
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NICK CARTER
looking affectionately at 'Ngai. "She knows the for-
est as well as anyone. "
c 'l know," said Carter, "and if she remembers to
do as she's told, we should be all right. "
Carter and the old man smiled at one another,
while 'Ngai looked from one to the other anxiously,
trying to figure out what had been said.
They had time to have a quick meal with Lod, a
stew made of roots, nuts, and monkey meat, then
they said their good-byes and 'Ngai led Carter into
the forest.
Anderson's troops had in no way given up the
fight. They heard the motors of his transports echo-
ing in the trees as daylight faded. It looked as though
it was going to be a long, difficult night.








TWELVE
The moon rose suddenly in the eastern sky, illumi-
nating the entire jungle. The sight of it seemed to be
the signal for increased activity among the animals.
The monkeys whooped and cried like spectators at a
bullfight, while the big jungle cats prowled the forest
floor, roaring and growling, and the insects drove the
decibel level off the end of the scale.
"The jungle's a real madhouse at night," Carter
noted.
'Ngai signaled for him to be quiet. She was leading
them through a particularly dense area of under-
brush. Predators were everywhere, and although they
had the gun for protection, they didn't dare fire it for
fear of bringing Anderson's men down on them.
It was several hours now since dark, and although
they hadn't heard any engines or voices for some
time, Carter was far from easy.
By this time, he figured, the bulk of men would
have returned to base, but the ones who wanted to,
the ones who thought they were good enough, would
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be encouraged to stay out and do a little night fight-
ing. It was part of the way they were trained, Carter
thought, with stress on individual competitiveness
rather than teamwork.
They'd want to stay out and be the hotshot who
brought Nick Carter in. These men were more dan-
gerous than Anderson's entire little army put to-
gether.
The day had been windless, but the night had been
subject to capricious breezes that blew up and then
faded just as quickly. From 'Ngai, Carter had devel-
oped the habit of sniffing the air.
A breeze blew now. Carter sniffed it and smelled
something he hadn't smelled in a long, long time.
After shave.
He looked around. A dark shape loomed in the
tree over 'Ngai's head. Either a panther or a man. He
couldn't tell for sure.
Carefully the Killmaster brought up his gun. A
short burst and the shape fell with a thud into the
weeds. 'Ngai gasped. She grabbed onto Carter for a
minute, then, when she saw it wasn't moving, she
stepped closer.
It was a man. Carter recognized him as the kid who
had summoned him to Anderson's office the day
after he'd slept in Perlman's quarters. He couldn't
have been more than eighteen.
Carter stooped and pulled the Uzi from the
corpse's fingers. "Here," he said, handing it to
'Ngai. "Now we each have a gun."
She looked at it as though it were a snake and said
something in her language.
s 'I can't understand you, but if you're saying you
don't know how to work it, that's okay. Just hold it.
With any luck, you won't need to work it. But now
we're going to have to hurry. It won't be long before
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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they're all out here, looking to see who fired that
shot. "



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s 'I can't understand you, but if you're saying you
don't know how to work it, that's okay. Just hold it.
With any luck, you won't need to work it. But now
we're going to have to hurry. It won't be long before
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
141
they're all out here, looking to see who fired that
shot. "
They stepped around the body and continued
through the weeds. At least they'd frightened off the
big cats, thought Carter.
The jungle was starting to get to him. It seemed
everywhere he stepped, everything he touched, was
either unpleasant or dangerous. Insects crawled over
everything, and if it wasn't bugs, it was animals. Big
animals, little animals, defecating and fornicating
everywhere. In the last twenty-four hours he'd spent
a lot of time thinking about his Georgetown town
house. It was going to be very nice to get back there,
to step into his black-tile shower....
'Ngai took his arm. She had come to a partially
dried stream bed filled with marsh grass, and while it
was heartening in that it signified they were close to
the river, it was still one more obstacle to cross.
The moon made the grass look like a field of sil-
ver spears. Carter could see that there was water
underneath and probably mud—and leeches, too, he
guessed—but exactly how far he was going to sink
when he stepped into it was open to question. He was
still clad only in his shorts and had no desire to wade
through waist-deep muck.
'Ngai had a strange look on her face. She had
hesitated before stepping out, and Carter watched
her closely. It was very quiet here. Unnaturally quiet.
He saw a fallen log that extended at least partway
to the other bank. He directed her attention to it and
she nodded. It looked like the best way to cross.
They sidestepped down the bank, Carter leading,
and out into the grass. Carter sank to his knees and
began to slosh toward the middle, holding on to the
log. It was wet, but as long as he didn't stay in one
spot too long, the mud felt fairly firm.



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log. It was wet, but as long as he didn't stay in one
spot too long, the mud felt fairly firm.
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NICK CARTER
They were exactly halfway across when a spotlight
flashed on, fixing them in its glare. Carter barely had
time to force 'Ngai's head down and duck himself
before wood chips began to fly off the log from
machine-gun fire coming from the opposite bank.
The machine gun kept up a constant chatter. The
shooter was probably trying to disguise the fact that
he was alone. thought Carter. This, he decided, was
going to require some circling around.
He made several hand motions to 'Ngai, telling her
what he intended to do and for her to stay put behind
the log. He also told her to fire her gun as often as
she could. He fired it several times himself to show
her how, shots that were immediately answered from
the other bank, then handed her the gun.
That was probably a lot to digest in a short time,
he reflected. He crouched down and began to slosh
back through the grass, using the log for cover. But
she was a bright girl, he reminded himself. She would
catch on.
When he reached the bank, he saw the gunman
hidden behind a tree. The soldier had not seen Carter
leave his position by the fallen log and was still firing
at the spot where 'Ngai lay hidden. But Carter still
had to cross the stream bed to get at him.
The only possibility was an aerial approach,
thought Carter, noting the trees overhead. Tall cy-
press trees stood on either side of the waterway, their
branches merging over the center. Their trunks were
smooth and wouldn't really lend themselves to climb-
ing, but it didn't look impossible.
A great deal depended, however, on 'Ngai keeping
the machine gunner busy. Carter would be a sitting
duck in the tree. If he were spotted, it wouldn't take
much of a marksman to bring him down.
He heard more bursts and saw fire flashes near the




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THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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log. She was shooting, he thought, gratified. She'd
gotten the hang of it.
He began shinnying up the trunk of a tree. The dif-
ficult part wasn't the climbing as much as keeping
the gun on his back from rattling and giving away his
position.
'Ngai kept firing. As Carter climbed, he wondered
if she hadn't even taught herself how to reload.
He was high in the branches now, a good twenty
feet over the glistening spears of swamp grass. The
machine gunner's face was visible in the occasional
flashes of light from his gun muzzie. He was standing
next to a tree, using its trunk to steady his aim.
Carter put his gun in the fork between two
branches, took aim, and fired a short burst. The bul-
lets exploded the man's head like a melon, pushing
him a good five feet beyond the tree.
'Ngai continued to fire.
"Stop!" Carter yelled to her, but she couldn't hear
over the gunshots.
"Stop!" screamed Carter again. Then one of her
bullets hit the spotlight. It imploded with a whump!
and when she saw it was dark, she stopped.
Carter scrambled further up into the tree, caught
the branch of a tree on the other bank, swung to it,
and began to descend.
When he reached the ground, he walked over to
the body and lifted the shoulder with his toe. The side
of the head was a mass of blood and brain matter
that shone in the moonlight.
Carter stared at the dead soldier and figured he
was just about his size.
Putting his gun down, Carter rolled the corpse
over and began undoing the shirt buttons. As cool as
his present attire was, it would be nice to have some
protection on his skin.
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He'd gotten the shirt off and had begun work on
the pants, when he heard a metallic click behind him.
"l hope that's you, 'Ngai," he said in English.
"Who?" a male voice replied in Spanish.
Carter froze. His gun was within reach, but there
was no way he could grab it, bring it around, and fire
in time. Whoever it was had the drop on him.
"Turn around, Sehor Carter,"
said the voice. "I
want to see the look on your face when I put a bullet
in every hole in your body. "
Carter slowly turned. It was Velasquez, the Latino
kid who had killed 'Ngai's family. His face looked
particularly mean in the moonlight.
g 'How are you going to do that? " asked Carter.
"You just wait. One in your mouth, so I don't
have to listen to you talk. One in either ear, so for
once you hear who's boss. One up each nostril, so
you can smell your own death. Then one right up
your—
A burst of machine-gun fire slammed Velasquez
against a tree trunk. He slumped to the ground, his
eyes wide with surprise. Apparently he'd been hit in
the spine. He screamed in pain and rolled onto his
back and began flopping around like a fish out of
water.
'Ngai stepped out from behind a tree. Her Uzi was
still smoking. She walked forward, her eyes intent on
Velasquez, her expression grim. When she got di-
rectly over him, she opened fire again.
Carter wondered if she remembered who this was.
But he didn't have to wonder long. She emptied the
rest of the clip into his head and chest, and when the
bullets ran out, she went on pulling the trigger, tears
streaming down her face.
After the fourth or fifth click, Carter came over
and put a hand on her shoulder. She dropped the gun
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
145
suddenly, turned, and buried her face against his
shoulder.
"It's all right, little one," he said, gentw stroking




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bullets ran out, she went on pulling the trigger, tears
streaming down her face.
After the fourth or fifth click, Carter came over
and put a hand on her shoulder. She dropped the gun
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
145
suddenly, turned, and buried her face against his
shoulder.
"It's all right, little one," he said, gentw stroking
her hair. "You paid him back. As much as anyone
could."









THIRTEEN
Carter hoped the experience with Velasquez would
help dispel some of the grief 'Ngai felt for her parents
and brother, but it seemed to have an opposite effect.
Over the next several hours she grew much more
solemn than usual. They went through the motions
of hiking down trails, wading through jungle vegeta-
tion, scurrying over open swards with grim deter-
mination, not speaking, hardly even looking at one
another.
To make matters worse, they were coming into the
area where the tragedy happened. Carter was begin-
ning to recognize landmarks and he worried over the
effect revisiting the spot would have on her.
He didn't have time to worry, however. He saw it
looming up through the trees, the skeletal shape of
the deadfall over the abandoned river course.
'Ngai saw it too. He tried to gauge her reaction but
couldn't, although he did think he sensed a new
tenseness in her movements.
The deadfall filled the old river bottom for several
miles in either direction. Trying to skirt it would take
them far out of their way and cost them hours of
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precious time. No choice remained but to climb it,
just as they had three days ago with Sergeant Tiez
and his men.
'Ngai slid down the embankment until her feet
struck one of the lower logs. Carter descended after
her. She was about to start to climb, when he caught
her arm.
"You don't have to come," he said. "l can find
my way to the river from here. We're only going to
have to say good-bye in the long run anyway. "
She seemed to sense what he was trying to say. She
smiled, reached up, and touched his cheek. It was all
right, her look said. There was no need for him to be
concerned about her. She was going to be just fine.
She turned and started climbing over the dead
limbs. Carter followed.
The deadfall was a peculiar place. Carter had
thought so when he first saw it in daylight. But now,
in the moonlit night, it was definitely stranger, more
spectral and unsettling. The sun and wind had eroded
the bark from the limbs, bleaching them like bones,
and as they climbed higher, in the stillness of the half
moon, it was like scaling the remains of the world's
dead, brought here to this forgotten corner of the
planet to rot.
A cry came to them on the wind. A child's cry,
perhaps, or at least something young. Its plaintive
note sent a shudder through Carter. It seemed to be
coming from higher in the jungle gym of sticks and
limbs. 'Ngai looked at him with worry in her face.
Something was suffering.
Leaving him, she began to scramble up the slippery
maze of limbs. Carter tried to catch her, but she was
much too nimble. She was much more adept at this
kind of climbing than she'd let on, and had been
holding back out of deference to him. At any rate,
she quickly left him behind.
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Then the wind brought something else to Carter,




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NICK CARTER
Then the wind brought something else to Carter,
an odor that made his mouth go dry. Gasoline. The
smell was strong, but it was impossible for Carter to
tell from which direction it was coming. The air was
heavy with the fumes.
Frantically he tried to reach 'Ngai; he doubted
the smell would register with her as meaning danger.
But the difficulties in climbing remained the same.
Routes that looked most direct became dead ends.
He constantly had to backtrack to find his way.
Meanwhile, she was well beyond him, scrambling
up the limbs like a monkey, Then he saw what she
was after. At the very top was a jaguar cub with its
paw wedged between two branches. It had given up
trying to get loose and was crouched on the limbs,
bawling for its mother.
"No, 'Ngai!" he shouted. "Leave it!"
But the girl wouldn't listen. She scrambled on,
shinnying up the thinnest branches until she reached
it.
A sound came to Carter's ears from somewhere
down below, a concussion like a sudden exhalation
of air. He looked and saw the bright light of a flame
suddenly spring up. It spread faster than the eye
could follow until it engulfed all the lower branches,
not only on the bank from which they'd started, but
on the other bank as well.
s 'My God, they've set it on fire!" he gasped.
The full horror of the situation gradually flooded
his mind. The riverbed was choked with deadwood.
They were sitting on a tinderbox.
Wildly, he began to climb. Hand over hand, heed-
less of the slips and miscalculations.
'Ngai!" he screamed. 's 'Ngai!"
He got her attention. She looked down from a
perch in the fork of a tree trunk. The jaguar was in
her lap, staring down with beryl eyes.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
' 'Look!" he shouted, pointing desperately.
149
The flames had spread already. More of the dead-
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'Ngai!" he screamed. 's 'Ngai!"
He got her attention. She looked down from a
perch in the fork of a tree trunk. The jaguar was in
her lap, staring down with beryl eyes.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
' 'Look!" he shouted, pointing desperately.
149
The flames had spread already. More of the dead-
fall was enveloped. The wood, sun-dried for years
over the old riverbed. burned like dry grass.
The trap had been well planned. A perfect ring of
fire glowed around them, cutting off all avenues of
escape. All but one narrow corridor. Carter spotted it
immediately; it was their one hope.
He turned and began to scramble toward it, hop-
ing the girl would follow. Branch after branch, he
scooted over, under, using them as handholds, foot-
holds, moving any way he could. At times he found
himself dangling from the merest twigs. At other
times the twigs broke, and he'd fall to the next lowest
layer.
But he hurried. He knew it was only a matter of
minutes before the whole riverbed was a sheet of fire,
He closed on the gap. It was still there, a black hole
in the wall of flickering light. He turned to see how
'Ngai was doing.
She was well behind him, carefully stepping over
the protruding arm of a branch.
Move, 'Ngai! What the hell's the matter with you?
Then he saw the golden eyes of the jaguar cub. She
was holding it against her stomach, climbing with
only one hand, being careful not to fall.
"Drop it!" he shouted to her.
She stopped and looked at him.
He made a flinging motion with his hands. She
stared at him with indignant disbelief, then shook her
head and clasped the little animal all the closer.
"Then hurry!" he yelled.
The flames roared. They sounded like millions of
wings beating. He could feel the heat on his face and
hands.
The opening he'd seen from above seemed much
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The opening he'd seen from above seemed much
narrower now, and as he got closer, he quickly saw
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NICK CARTER
why. The gap existed because of a deposit of green
moss that had entangled itself like a veil on the tree
limbs. With the rains it had managed to survive long
after the tree from which it had once hung had died.
Its moisture content had slowed the advance of the
flames, but now even this was being overcome.
"Hurry, for chrissake!" he shouted, turning to
'N gaie
She was close now. The cub had turned its back
and was clinging to her dress with its sharp claws.
When she reached Carter, he took her hand and
pulled her in front of him, He had no idea how long
the opening would last and he wanted to make sure
they made it through.
The heat was fierce. Orange flames lashed the
space around his head and made the air almost too
hot to breathe. The cub screamed, its bleats audible
even over the roar of the flames.
She turned and began to back through the mossy
curtain. Suddenly its resistance to the fire gave out
and in a flash it turned into a sheet of flames. Carter
snatched her back with a force so strong it flung them
back several feet onto the branches.
No way remained now but down, below the
flames, into the silt of the old bed.
'Ngai was becoming hysterical. As she followed
Carter's lead, tears streamed down her cheeks. She
clung to the cub now more out of reflex than
thought, and while Carter would have liked to see her
drop it, he didn't dare make the suggestion now. He
couldn't stand the thought of her cowering on the
tree limbs, clinging to the cat as though it were life
itself, refusing his entreaties to help her. And yet he'd
seen such things. People weren't always rational at
times like this. Better she should keep the animal and
climb with one hand than have to be socked on the
jaw and carried.
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The flames were everywhere now. The upper strata
Of the deadfall were engulfed. Sparks and bits of
flaming wood rained on Carter and 'Ngai as they
descended, and although the conflagration had not
yet reached the lower branches near the river bottom,
doubtless it would and soon.
They half climbed, half fell toward the riverbed,
pushing their way through thousands of wooden
fingers that reached out to grab them. The branches
here were more densely packed, the holes that al-
lowed them passage fewer and fewer. Still, Carter
forced his way, working like a man possessed, pulling
back branches and breaking them off, overturning
whole tree trunks.
Meanwhile, fear was accumulating in his mind.
They weren't running to anything, but away, away
from fire and searing heat. But whether salvation
awaited them in the river bottom or not, he had no
idea.
What a simple trap, he thought. But effective. No
wonder Anderson had given in to his dare. He must
have had this planned all along.
Carter pulled back the last branches of a tropical
pine, let himself down, and for the first time since
leaving the bank, set foot on something other than
wood. The river bottom was a spiderweb of cracks in
a hard mud surface, but as he stepped on it, it gave
way. It was soft underneath.
He helped 'Ngai down, then took a quick survey of
his surroundings. The flames above lit everything
brilliantly. It was like being in a brightly lit room of
limitless dimension, completely choked with dead-
wood.
He knew the way to the nearest bank, and his first
instinct was to head in that direction. Pulling 'Ngai
behind him, he began to weave over, under, and
around the thousands of logs that blocked their way.
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NICK CARTER
The heat was almost overwhelming. If it had been
bad before, it was unbearable now. His lungs burned
d the skin on the backs of his hands was red and




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limitless dimension, completely choked with dead-
wood.
He knew the way to the nearest bank, and his first
instinct was to head in that direction. Pulling 'Ngai
behind him, he began to weave over, under, and
around the thousands of logs that blocked their way.
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NICK CARTER
The heat was almost overwhelming. If it had been
bad before, it was unbearable now. His lungs burned
and the skin on the backs Of his hands was red and
beginning to blister. And the obstacles on their way
to safety seemed endless.
Then he saw something that at first he couldn't
believe. Up ahead, shining like a jewel in the reflected
light of the fire, was a pool of water that somehow
had survived on the river bottom.
He pointed it out to 'Ngai. She cried out and
together they ran for it, heedless of the hundreds of
branches they had to pass through to get there.
The water was warm, but it seemed to them as cool
as shade. They splashed it on their faces and hands.
They lay down in it and rolled over its muddy bottom
until they looked like chocolate figures. 'Ngai wetted
the cub's coat. Then they realized they'd been so ex-
cited, they'd forgotten to drink and they did that,
too.
Carter felt better, but he realized this was only a
brief respite. Up above, the fire storm still raged.
And what was worse, the infrastructure of the dead-
fall was beginning to collapse, Sparks and cinders
still fell, but now logs the size of building supports
were beginning to crash through the upper layers.
Then suddenly a blizzard of flames filled the space
around them as everything buckled and threatened to
cave in.
They had to find shelter and fast. Carter took
'Ngai's hand and frantically they began to dodge
through the thousands of limbs.
They found a narrow corridor twisting between the
branches. Up ahead lay two huge logs, one on top of
the other.
They were getting closer to the bank, Carter real-
ized. The riverbed was beginning to tilt upward.
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ey were ge Ing c oser o e an
arter rea -
ized. The riverbed was beginning to tilt upward.
The pair of logs proved to be impassable: too high
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
153
and smooth to climb and too long and choked with
brush to get around. They were trapped.
In frustration Carter slapped the log. To his
amazement it was cool.
Of course. Now he recognized it. This was que-
bracho wood. They called it the ax breaker because it
was so dense. In this part of the world they used it as
a substitute for iron. It would take a lot of heat to
burn one of these babies.
Then he got an idea. Quickly, he climbed between
the logs and began to push on the upper one with his
feet. If he could roll it, he might open a space under-
neath for the two of them to hide. The log would pro-
vide protection from debris falling from above, and
the mud below might keep them cool enough to sur-
vive.
Another shower of sparks and falling wood. The
deadfall was like a house of cards, ready to go at any
minute. He was going to have to hurry.
Muscles screaming, he pushed and pushed. But the
log was exceedingly heavy. He could get it rocking,
but he lacked the power to roll it over.
'Ngai saw what he was trying to do. Since the inci-
dent with the hanging moss she had been in a kind of
stupor, aware of what was going on, yet passive. She
had been content to let the burden of their safety fall
onto Carter's shoulders.
But now, suddenly, she came to her senses, Drop-
ping the cub, she climbed up next to him, wedged her
slender body between the two logs, and began to
push with all her might.
With a dreamlike slowness, the great log rolled
toward the end of its arc. The two of them strained to
hold it there. When it stopped. they rolled it, apply-
ing every last ounce of pressure they could. It fell off
the lower log onto the riverbed, exposing a funnel-
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Carter and 'Ngai scrambled in. Worms and slugs
covered the sides, but it was cool. They lay down.
Then 'Ngai remembered the cub. She bolted, but
Carter grabbed her legs and pulled her back.
A crack sounded overhead, as though the sky had
suddenly been split by lightning. Sparks rained down
for a full minute. Carter and 'Ngai cowered in their
narrow sanctuary, keeping their heads low to the
ground where the air was cool enough to breathe.
They remained that way for as many minutes as
Carter felt they could stand. Meanwhile. the fire set-
tled around them. The temperature did not drop,
however. If anything, it went up, and Carter saw an-
other danger facing them: lack of oxygen. The flames
were using it up at an incredible rate. Carter was al-
ready feeling dizzy and sluggish. They couldn't wait
there much longer. They were going to have to get
out.
Carter poked his head out and saw that heid been
right earlier. They weren't far from the riverbank.
Some of the debris overhead had burned off and he
could see trees. Their leaves and branches were burn-
ing, but they were vertical.
The branches directly above were still a network of
flame. It was going to take more than just a quick
dash to make it to safety.
One of the trees along the bank, a tower of flame,
suddenly feli forward not far from Carter, and rather
than adding to the fire, it snuffed the flames around
it momentarily.
It was a slender chance, but anything was better
than lying there waiting to suffocate.
He pulled off his shirt and in one motion ripped
out one of the front panels. He handed it to 'Ngai
and showed her he wanted it over her nose and
mouth. Then he covered his own face with the rest of
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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THE MASTER ASSASSIN
the cloth and charged out of the hole.
155
The mass of brush that had trapped them against
the log earlier had been partially displaced when
they'd moved the log, and some of it had burned
away. He burst through what remained now and ran
for where the tree had fallen. 'Ngai was close behind.
The time they had was very short. In a matter of a
minute or less, the fire would digest the new fuel the
fallen tree provided and flare up again. By that time
they had to have mounted the trunk and run down it
for the shore.
When it flared up, the tree would be a mass of
flames, but for now it was a smoldering ember, radi-
ating smoke and darkness. And smoke, Carter real,
ized, was going to be their biggest problem. It hadn't
bothered them when the fire was above them, but
now the fire was everywhere, and smoke inhalation
would kill them sooner than anything.
Black billows blotted out the light of the flames.
Carter grabbed 'Ngai's hand and pulled her onto the
log. Fire still leaped on it. Flames like open hands
reached for their legs. Carter covered his mouth and
began to run, pushing the Indian girl ahead of him.
The taste of burning wood was thick in his throat and
the urge to cough was almost overpowering. But he
fought it. His fight was almost gone, but he fought it
anyway.
Below them the inferno raged. The riverbed was
aflame from end to end.
Suddenly the log shifted, throwing each of them
off-balance. Carter grabbed 'Ngai.
"Keep going, baby!" he shouted. "It isn't much
further!" And he pulled her back onto her feet.
She ran and he followed, off the log and onto the
shore. The vegetation was burning there, too, but
somehow it seemed much more bearable.
They ran until Carter felt the broad damp leaves of
156
NICK CARTER
the jungle, then he stopped and fell headlong on a
bed of fern. 'Ngai fell next to him.




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further!" And he pulled her back onto her feet.
She ran and he followed, off the log and onto the
shore. The vegetation was burning there, too, but
somehow it seemed much more bearable.
They ran until Carter felt the broad damp leaves of
156
NICK CARTER
the jungle, then he stopped and fell headlong on a
bed of fern. 'Ngai fell next to him.
They began to laugh, slightly manic laughter that
was the result of overwound nerves, and yet it felt
good. They needed a release. Carter had thought he
would never laugh again, or cry, or even breathe cool
air, and now he wanted to express joy and gratitude.
He was sure 'Ngai felt the same.
He gathered her into his arms and for several min-
utes they held each other and laughed hysterically.
Then 'Ngai remembered the cub and her laughter
turned to tears.
Half an hour passed while they rested and consoled
one another, and then it was time for Carter to
remember why he was here and what still remained to
be accomplished..
He stood up and took stock. Although it had taken
them longer than he had imagined and certainly more
travail than he would ever have thought possible to
live through. they had managed to cross the deadfall.
Behind him lay the river. The fire still raged in the old
riverbed, but nature would take care Of that. It
hadn't rained in days and rain was due. His job now
was to get to the river.
He helped 'Ngai to her feet and together they be-
gan to walk. And in a short time, to his amazement,
he found a road.










FOURTEEN
It was no more than a grassy rut through the jun-
gle, a narrow throughway from which the vegetation
had been hacked back, but if Carter were guessing
right, this was the road the camp used to retrieve its
supplies from its depot on the river. Which meant it
would lead them in the right direction. Carter and
'Ngai started down it.
Unless Carter missed his guess, this was the main
road from the camp. It managed to avoid the dead-
fall by winding through the hills to the south. This
added several miles to the trip, On foot it still made
much more sense to simply climb over the pile of
dead trees, a fact Colonel Anderson must have real-
ized when he set his trap.
Behind them, that trap still burned. A column of
black smoke merged with the night sky, obscuring
the stars and, at times, blotting out the moon.
Ahead, the road took a bend to the left. As they
came to it, Carter heard voices and he motioned
'Ngai into the underbrush. They crept forward and
saw a truck from the camp. It was one Carter hadn't
seen before, a tanker, and infused in the air around it
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was the unmistakable smell of gasoline.
The truck was parked, and although the engine
was off, the headlights still burned. In the glare stood
three men casually talking.
Carter signaled 'Ngai to follow, then ran quietly to
the truck, opened the door of the cab, and slipped in.
'Ngai slid in right behind him.
The three men were pouring something into glasses
and toasting one another. They were celebrating
something. Probably the death of Nick Carter, Car-
ter thought.
He slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
The men jumped, one of them spilling his drink. It
was Sergeant Tiez, His face was easy to make out in
the beam of the headlight.
Without waiting for them to get out of the way,
Carter rammed the gear shift into first and hit the ac-
celerator.
Two of the men backpedaled into the clear, but
Sergeant Tiez jumped on the radiator housing.
Carter shifted into second. The big vehicle
bounced on the dirt road and Carter felt the slosh of
the gasoline in the back.
At the first curve Tiez was still on the front and
Carter was undecided what to do about it. If he
stopped the truck, the man would no doubt attack. If
he continued, it was possible Tiez could hold on all
the way to the river.
'Ngai had recognized Tiez from the first, and now,
even though he wasn't visible, she shouted at him in
her native language and shook her fist. Her gun had
been lost in the fire, but if she had it now, Carter
didn't doubt she'd destroy the engine trying to put a
hole in him.
Meanwhile, the question of what to do with Tiez
was becoming urgent. The man's hand appeared on
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
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the radiator cap, then the top half of his head, as he
began to pull himself up.
Carter thought of smashing him into a tree, but he
didn't want to damage the truck. However, he
speculated it might be possible to knock him hard
enough to dislodge him and still leave the truck in-
tact.
That sounded like the best plan, and Carter began
looking for a suitable tree, one that would make it
possible to get the truck back on the road after im-
pact. But Sergeant Tiez had managed to raise himself
up and climb onto the hood.
The sight of him crawling on the hood drove 'Ngai
to new heights of anger. She railed at him through
the windshield, shaking her fist wildly. Velasquez
may have been the instigator of her tragedy, the har-
binger of death and grief, but Tiez had insulted her,
and she reserved for him all her fury.
Carter reached behind the truck seat, looking for
something to use as a weapon. His hand closed on a
large monkey wrench. He brought it out and handed
it to 'Ngai.
Tiez had analyzed his position and realized his only
recourse lay in getting inside the cab of the truck. To
do this, he'd decided to enter from the passenger
side. 'Ngai, he must have figured, would be easier to
deal with than Carter.
Keeping his body as flat as possible, he slid over
the hood, down the fender, and onto the running
board.
'Ngai watched him, her hand squeezing the wrench
tightly.
Carter, meanwhile, had come into a series of sharp
turns. They were nearing the river now and the land-
scape was changing. The truck skirted high bluffs,
with drop-offs of sometimes hundreds of feet.
160'
NICK CARTER
Tiez grabbed the side mirror and put his hand on
the door handle.
Quick as a flash, 'Ngai rapped his knuckles with




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turns. They were nearing the river now and the land-
scape was changing. The truck skirted high bluffs,
with drop-offs of sometimes hundreds of feet.
160'
NICK CARTER
Tiez grabbed the side mirror and put his hand on
the door handle.
Quick as a flash, 'Ngai rapped his knuckles with
the wrench.
"You Indian bitch!" he shouted.
He thrust himself forward and tried to grab her
through the open window, but Carter swerved the
truck at the right moment and Tiez was forced to use
both hands to hold on.
'Ngai swung the wrench again. This time she
caught him alongside the head, but in the process he
grabbed the wrench, tore it from her hands, and
flung it away.
Carter reached behind the seat again.
Tiez had given up trying to open the door. The bet-
ter bet, he must have decided, was to try to climb in
through the window. He hooked an arm around the
doorpost and grabbed under the dash.
Carter came up with a screwdriver. He handed it to
'Ngai.
Murder in her eyes, she stabbed Tiez in the bicep,
once, twice, before he could get away from her.
Tiez was in pain now. He was bleeding from the
arm and head, and his knuckles hurt. From the look
on his face, he was less concerned about getting into
the cab than he was about getting this Indian girl and
putting her down once and for all.
He swung around and made a grab for her, but she
parried with the screwdriver. She didn't do any new
damage, but she kept his hand away and managed to
anger him still more.
He tried to grab it again. This time he got hold of
the end of the screwdriver and after a short tug-of-
war, he flung that, too, into the jungle.
Once again Carter fished behind the seat. Up
ahead, in the farthest reach of his headlights, he saw
a large tree very close to the edge Of the road.





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ahead, in the farthest reach of his headlights, he saw
a large tree very close to the edge of the road.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
161
He found a pair of vise-grips. "Here," he said,
handing the tool to her. "Tweak his nose with it.'
But Tiez had gained too great an advantage. His
shoulder and head were in the cab now, and he was
swinging wildly, trying to get hold of 'Ngai. She
batted him with the vise-grips but it didn't do any
good. He ignored it.
"On the other hand," said Carter, ' 'if you really
want to get rid of him, all we have to do is open the
door." He reached over her and pulled up on the
door latch. The door swung open, carrying a very
surprised Tiez with it.
At just the right moment, Carter swerved into the
tree. A split second later the cab had only one door.
Across from 'Ngai was an empty space. Gone were
both door and Sergeant Tiez.
'Ngai looked surprised. She held her hand to her
mouth, but her eyes held unmasked amusement.
"I suppose we should stop and make sure he's all
right," said Carter, teasing her. "Would you like to
stop?" He hit the brake.
She grabbed his arm and shook her head. Her look
said, No, thank you.
The supply depot at the river consisted of a dilap-
idated wooden pier and a small shack. A light was
burning in the shack, and tied to the pier was an old
fishing trawler with an inboard motor and Anas-
tasia/Asunciön printed on the side.
When Carter and 'Ngai pulled up, no one was in
sight.
"They must be in the shack," said Carter.
He turned off the truck, got out, and went inside.
Two men sat at a table playing cards. One was older,
the other in his late teens. On closer inspection,
Carter decided they looked like father and son.
"Is that your boat?" asked Carter.
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NICK CARTER



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NICK CARTER
"What of it?" asked the old man.
"I'd like to hire it. "
The son smiled knowingly at his father. "It's not
for hire," he said.
"I have to get to San Pedro as soon as possible,"
said Carter.
"It's a long walk, senor," said the son. "You'd
better get started." Another furtive smile to the old
man.
Carter looked from one to the other. These two
weren't going to be much help.
he said, starting to walk out. He
"All right,"
wondered what it would take to hot-wire a boat.
He was almost out the door when the older one
said, "Hey, senor."
Carter turned around.
"Aren't you Senor Royce, the rich norteameri-
"What of it?"
"The soldiers told us not to have anything to do
with you."
"And if you want us to help you, senor, you have
to make it worth our while. You haven't even made
us an offer."
"How much is your boat worth?"
"Five thousand."
"Double it. And that's dollars, not pesos."
The old man whistled. Now it was the father's turn
to exchange a look with the son. "Very well, senor.
You have hired yourself a boat. "
But the son was not so easily convinced. His dark
brows crowded together over his eyes. "How do we
know you'll pay us, sehor?"
' 'The money is in San Pedro. I can pay when we
get there. "
"You expect us to believe that?"
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
163
"Don't worry, amigo. You'll be seeing a lot of me.
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"Don't worry, amigo. You'll be seeing a lot of me.
I'm going to be investing in the camp. If I like your
boat and the way you two handle yourselves, I'll use
you exclusively."
"Then how come the soldiers told us to beware of
you, seåor?"
"They want to keep you working for them, ob-
viously."
The son still had his doubts, but the old man
kicked him under the table.
"We'll start the engines right now, senor," the old
man said, getting up.
Carter went back out to the truck. 'Ngai was wait-
ing for him. This was going to be the hard part,
thought Carter. He'd bid farewell to a lot of lovely
ladies in his time, and was good at saying the right
thing. But this was different.
He climbed in next to her. Her big brown eyes
looked at him expectantly. How much of all this did
she really understand? he wondered.
He jerked his thumb in the direction of the boat.
Its engine had already started and was blowing
smoky bubbles out the exhaust.
"I've got to go," he said.
No, he thought, he didn't like the sound of that.
"I'm not very good at saying good-bye," he tried
again. "You'd think I would be, though, with all the
practice I've had.
She nodded, her eyes narrowing as she tried to
understand.
"Damn!" he said. "I wish spoke your language
or you spoke mine." He put his arm around her and
"I wish I could leave you something bet-
kissed her.
ter than what you have, some better life. You go back
and live with Lod," he said with sudden sternness.
"Stay away from the white men. Maybe you ought
164
NICK CARTER
to go downriver. Maybe you should live with the
Mumu. That Boro guy didn't seem to be such a bad
egg. Oh, the hell with it," he said, getting frustrated.
C'Maybe it's just as well we can't understand one an-



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ter than what you have, some better life. You go back
and live with Lod," he said with sudden sternness.
"Stay away from the white men. Maybe you ought
164
NICK CARTER
to go downriver. Maybe you should live with the
Mumu. That Boro guy didn't seem to be such a bad
egg. Oh, the hell with it," he said, getting frustrated.
C'Maybe it's just as well we can't understand one an-
other."
"Nick?" she asked. She brought his face close to
hers and kissed him.
The engine was warmed up. The old man was
standing on the deck.
' 'I've got to go. I've got to tell certain people what
I've seen here, then there'll be some big changes."
She nodded. Her eyes were full of tears. The fire
had left her face badly smudged and the tears as they
fell left long streaks in the soot.
"You look like a coal miner," he said, wiping a
tear with his thumb. "I've got to go."
He stepped down from the truck. The boat was
waiting. The old man was holding the mooring rope,
ready to cast off. Carter jogged down the pier and
hopped on board. He turned, and as the old man
untied the rope, he waved. He could see her big eyes
on the other side of the windshield, glistening. She
watched, motionless, as the boat chugged out toward
the current. He hoped she had the good sense to get
out of the truck and go back to the jungle. He wanted
her as far away from there as possible.
The truck, the pier, the little shack gradually di-
minished in size.
With a sigh, Carter turned and started up toward
the bridge. It wasn't over yet, he knew. He still had
to make his report to Washington. Then the higher-
ups would decide what was to be done.
The old man was at the helm. Up ahead the river
was dark, but the old fellow guided the boat flaw.
lessly.
"San Pedro, eh?" the old man said by way of
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making conversation.
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
' 'That's right. San Pedro."
"Things'll be in an uproar there, I'll bet."
' 'Why? " asked Carter pointedly.
165
' 'Haven't you heard? General Stroessner died
today. What's the matter, senor? You don't look
well. "
"Turn around."
beg your pardon, senor?"
"Turn around. I forgot something. Turn around, I









FIFTEEN
When Carter got back to shore, the truck was still
where he'd left it, but 'Ngai was gone. He started the
truck, turned it around, and headed back up the road
in the direction of Anderson's camp.
She appeared in his headlights about half a mile
further on, a long-haired jungle girl with a walk that
would stop traffic on Madison Avenue. When she
heard him coming, she ducked into the foliage.
He pulled up parallel to the spot where she'd dis-
appeared, opened the door, and stepped out onto
the running board. " 'Ngai!" he shouted. "It's me!
Nick!"
She flew out of the jungle and jumped onto the
truck on the passenger side. Her eyes looked as big as
quarters—full of surprise. She slid in and gave him a
big kiss, which, like many Of her kisses, threatened to
turn into a marathon session of lovemaking. She ex-
plored his mouth with her tongue. breathing hard
and pressing herself against him, then trying to pull
him down on top of heron the seat.
"Not now, 'Ngai,"
laughed Carter, pulling him-
self back up. "Right now we have to find Lod."
166
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
167
Carter had had a few minutes to think on the way
ack to shore. He would have to assume Anderson




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him down on top of heron the seat.
"Not now, 'Ngai,"
laughed Carter, pulling him-
self back up. "Right now we have to find Lod."
166
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
167
Carter had had a few minutes to think on the way
ack to shore. He would have to assume Anderson
ow knew the Paraguayan government was leader-
ess, and that the cabinet and parliament, try as they
ould to make everything appear normal, were really
Othing more than exposed pawns. Stroessner had
ontrolled the army, the true source of power, and
ithout him his underlings would be fishing around
or a new leader to support. It would show a lack of
olitical tact for Anderson to emerge too soon. He
ustn't appear greedy. He would have to wait until
he other factions had played their hands before he
umped into the political fishtank, but when he did,
ith the men and equipment he had at his disposal,
e was going to make a veiy big splash.
This necessary delay, albeit only a few hours, gave
arter a little time. It was too late to inform Wash-
ngton. Their hands would only be tied anyway. But
e was there, and still had a chance to do something
o alter the political destiny of the little country.
Hawk had been worried about the specter of
merican intervention. And now, with Stroessner
ead, that issue had become especially crucial. Nick
ter thought he knew a way of doing what was
ecessary without it looking as though an American
ad anything to do with it at all. But first he had to
alk with Lod.
"Can we get to Lod's camp on this road?" he
sked her as they bounced along. "Lod?" he re-
eated, pointing down the road.
She beamed up at him. She really was happy to see
im. S'Si, " she said, pronouncing the Spanish word
arefully.
Lod was not in his camp. One of the younger boys,
ow out of the underground hiding place, directed




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Lod was not in his camp. One of the younger boys,
ow out of the underground hiding place, directed
168
NICK CARTER
Carter and 'Ngai to a cliff about seventy-five feet
above the jungle floor. As they climbed up, Carter
recognized it as being not far from the spot where he
and 'Ngai had first made love.
When they reached the top they found the old man
sitting on a rock, staring out over the treetops. In the
distance the deadfall still burned.
"Old man," said Carter as they approached him.
Lod turned around. "So you've come back," he
said with a smile. s 'Sit down. Sit down. Did you for-
get something?"
Carter and 'Ngai positioned themselves in th
rocks on either side of him.
"Not exactly."
' 'Did you see the fire?" he asked, indicating th
horizon.
"We were in it. It was a trap set for 'Ngai and m
on our way to the river. It didn't work, although I'm
sure they think it did."
"How fortunate," said Lod, but Carter though
he detected a note of coldness in the old man's voice
"Unfortunately," he went on, "the riverbed was a
good hunting ground. The coatimundi and monke
were plentiful there and easy to catch. It will b
sorely missed. "
' 'The men who set the fire don't care about tha
sort of thing, I'm afraid," said Carter.
"White men seldom do."
j 'Listen, Lod, the men who sent me here don'
want to see Anderson and his kind flourish any mor
than you do. But their hands are going to be tied i
we don't act soon, and Anderson may become no
just a blight on the jungle, but the scourge
of al
Paraguay. I'm trying to prevent that."
"Sounds like quite a job."
"And in order to do that I need your help."
"What do you want me to do?" asked Lod, 100





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THE MASTER ASSASSIN
169
ing at him suddenly. Carter didn't remember Lod
seeming so distant before.
"I need manpower. Like those boys you keep
locked up in your little vaults in the ground."
"My boys? You want to use my boys as soldiers?"
"That's right. It's very important that my govern.
ment not get involved down here. If I went against
Anderson myself, he could use evidence of the fact
that I'm an American agent to gain political ground.
It would make him look stronger and more impor-
tant than he really is. But if the Indians went against
him, who could say anything? The Indians certainly
have every right."
Lod shook his head. His dark face seemed even
darker. "This is a white man's fight," he said. "And
one white man or another makes very little difference
to the Indians. But those boys are all the Indians have
left. Look at me, senor. I am the oldest man in my
tribe. I'm the only one left who remembers what it
was like before the white man came. Each day I teach
my boys, and they in turn will teach their sons. "
' 'If they have sons." Carter said bitterly. "And if
Anderson becomes dictator of Paraguay, that even-
tuality is in grave doubt. Lod, we must act tonight,
before dawn. Please, let me take a few of the boys
with me. I can't guarantee their safety, but I'll cer-
tainly take every precaution. "
"They are the future, senor. How can I give away
the future?"
"Dammit. old man! There won't be any future for
any of you if they don't come with me now. At least
no future you're going to want to face."
Carter's tone was becoming harsh, and 'Ngai
looked at him questioningly. "I'm sorry," he said to
her. "I'm sorry, but you don't understand." He
turned back to Lod.
"If you're not going to help me, then I'm going to
170
NICK CARTER
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NICK CARTER
have to do it on my own. I don't know what the con-
sequences will be and, frankly, it worries me. "
Carter got to his feet and started to leave. Then he
thought of one last thing to say. "Lod, the Indians
are going to be pushed around as long as they let
people push them around. But if the whites thought
you were starting to push back—-
"They would come and wipe us out," finished the
old man. "You see, seåor, I know the ways of the
world better than you think."
"Maybe," said Carter.
He went to the stone path he and 'Ngai had used
on the way up and started to descend. He saw her
sidestepping after him, and he waited for her to catch
up.
'*I'm sorry," he said when she reached him. ' 'But
our friend is being a little pig-headed. "
She looked alarmed and dismayed, but she knew
better than to interfere. Siléi'ifty she followed him
down the path.
At Lod's camp, Carter was about to climb back
into the gasoline truck when the boy who'd directed
him earlier came running up.
"Senorg can I speak to you?" he said.
"You speak Spanish?" asked Carter, surprised.
i 'Lod has taught me. I overheard. Did you say you
need men to help fight the whites?"
"l need some quick wits and able arms and bodies.
You know anybody like that?"
"Si, sehor. That's me." He smiled broadly. "Wait
here, senor. "
Carter waited. He heard a commotion in one of the
huts, then a group of boys filed out into the moon-
light. There looked to be about a dozen of them.
"We will all help, senor."
' 'You'll do this, even though you know Lod
doesn't approve?"
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
171
"Si, sehor. He is old and thinks only of the future
and what will happen when he dies, But we must
think of now, today."
"And, as it turns out, Lod does approve,"
said a




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light. There looked to be about a dozen of them.
"We will all help, senor."
' 'You'll do this, even though you know Lod
doesn't approve?"
THE MASTER ASSASSIN
171
"Si, sehor. He is old and thinks only of the future
and what will happen when he dies, But we must
think of now, today."
' 'And, as it turns out, Lod does approve,"
said a
voice behind him. Carter turned and found the old
man standing in the shadows. "l have been thinking
about what you said, Sehor Nick," he said, stepping
into the light, "and you are right. If we have a chance
to fight back and do not take it, we are worse than
cowards. We should give ourselves up for dead."
"I understand how you feel," said Carter, coming
up to him. "There's nothing more precious than a
man's heritage. I'll take good care of them, I prom-
ise. "
"Por favor, seior. They have never had a chance
to fight the white man before. I fear they may be-
come reckless. "
"What about you, 'Ngai?" asked Carter. "Com-
ing?"
She chirped and burbled at him happily.
"What?" asked Carter, looking at Lod.
"She says she wouldn't miss it."