43
"Well, Mr. Jesse James, are we waking up?"
I didn't say anything. A huge, beefy man wear-
ing splattered sweatpants and sweatshirt came into
view. He made some final adjustments to the furni-
ture that had been moved against the walls, then
looked arouhd at me. I decided they were planning
to torture me. But my would-be torturer had dark,
kind eyes.
There are not many kindly-eyed torturers in this
world. Their profession marks them as clearly as
Cain for the suffering they inflict on their fellow
beings. It didn't make sense.
I looked at the beautiful woman sitting on the
table and I was sure she was Ankevic's daughter.
Despite what I had told her, she looked exactly like
her photographs. You can make a mistake from a
single photograph but not from three or four. AXE
never uses only a single photograph for identi-
fication purposes unless it can't be helped. I ran
through a checklist. She had known the code. She
had known obscure information about the Greek
origin of her last name. She knew the languages she
was supposed to know. And she was certainly a
chip off the old block.
I shifted my position ever so slightly. It told me
what I wanted to know. Not only did I have Waldo
and Pierre, but Hugo was still in his sheath. If I
made the right moves, with Hugo's help, they were
both dead. But that didn't make any sense. I
couldn't believe she had gone over to OZNA or
Uncle Joe's boys after what they had done to her
family. I decided to wait until I understood the sit-
uation better before I acted.
' 'So we need the help of a great Western techni-
cian, huh?" she said. ' 'Okay, Mr. Jesse James, here
NICK CARTER




44
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
is the deal. My father asked for you, but now he is
incapacitated and I must take over for him. I don't
want you. We have enough and secret pcy
lice in our country already. Yes? But I won't dis-
obey my father's order, so we compromise. If you
beat Ivo, maybe you can stay. If you lose, then I
have proved we don't need you and I am free to
disregard my father's order."
I craned my neck for a better look at Ivo. The
guy looked like a sumo wrestler. The furniture had
been moved back against the walls so nobody
would get injured. It was kind of cute. They
thought the contest was going to be like a boxing
match. Liberals! I wondered how they had sur-
vived all these years. Did they really believe Uncle
Joe's boys or the KGB or OZNA would jump in
the ring with them and play by Marquess of
Queensbury rules? I slid my arms closer to my
body and pushed myself up, keeping my eyes on
them both. I moved around a bit, loosening up
and regaining my balance. I wondered whether to
pull out Hugo then and there or wait until the con-
test was over. I decided it would make a better im-
pression to give a little demonstration beforehand.
"You're an amateur, honey," I growled. "You've
just gotten both you and Chubby over there
killed." With a flick of my wrist, Hugo was in
my hand. With another flick the knife was quiver-
ing in the table next to her leg. I said: "At this
point, you're dead. I now take three steps forward
to your corpse and take the gun from your hand.
Bam! Now Chubby is dead." I gave her my finest
grin and rested my case.
She stared at me and then pointed Wilhelmina
directly at my gut.





45
"Anybody can make a mistake," she said. She
pulled the trigger, but the moment before, she
jerked the gun to the right. I had seen it coming in
her eyes, and I jumped left. If I had jumped right I
would have etaken a slug from my own gun. I
picked myself up off the floor. As said, she was an
absolute chip off the old block.
"Okay, Mr. Jesse James, now that we have set-
tled that, why don't you have a try at Ivo?"
I looked at Chubby out of the corner of my eye.
I figured he was well on his way to being three-
minute hash. I shifted to face Chubby. He certainly
was built like a sumo wrestler. He watched me
carefully. I could tell he wasn't going to make the
first move. His gaze was steady, and he kept his
center of gravity low, which should have rung
an alarm bell for me. I decided to have a shot at
him.
I circled around him slow and easy, watching
him adjust his position and looking for that almost
imperceptible sign that he had shifted off balance
even for a moment. I wasn't looking for a big error
on his part. I figured just a tiny misstep would do
the trick. It appeared to come sooner than I ex-
pected. I moved in, hoping to grab his wrist and set
him up for a throw. Instead he grabbed mine. The
next thing I knew, I was hitting the floor like a ton
of bricks.
He had thrown me at a nice, painful angle on the
ummatted wooden floor. I must admit I was
shaken, but I twisted away from his grasp and
spiraled up to face him.
I watched his eyes as we circled around each oth-
er. I feinted with a left kick high to his midsection,
then feinted again with my right arm. My real shot






46
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
after these preliminaries was a left uppercut. I ex-
pected it to be partially blocked so I brought it up
hard as I could. It was a mistake. I landed on the
floor again, but this time he kept hold of my wrist.
I twisted my arm first in one direction and then
another, hoping to convince him that I could twist
free that way. Then I swung my right hand out,
reaching for a leg. He flipped me over on my side
and dragged me across the floor to keep me from
getting my balance. I knew he would have to stop
moving if he wanted to come down and finish me.
I had been fighting slow and lazy, but suddenly
I felt strong and fast. Using his arm as leverage, I
swung my feet around and slammed them against
his leg while I twisted. I grabbed his wrist and
pulled. Damn, I thought, he should come down.
He didn't. Instead I hung there like a string on
a bow. I was in more trouble now than before. I
pushed myself into him, twisting my back toward
him and bringing my elbow into his gut as hard as
I could. It didn't seem to faze him, so I slammed
my heel down on his instep, turned, and tried to
twist free. It worked, but I got a nasty blow to the
side of my head in the process.
I stood facing him, unsure of what to do next. I
felt like I had been fighting in a bowl of Jello. Ev-
ery one of my moves seemed impossibly slow, but
I knew it was an illusion. It was just that from look-
ing at his size and mass, I had trouble accepting
how fast he could move. His size and skill made it
hard for me to throw him, maybe impossible. I
circled him, throwing and pulling some karate
combinations. There was nothing behind any of
them. I couldn't take any chances he would grab
my arm until I caught my breath. I kept circling
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
47




47
him looking for an opening. He had great balance
and appeared fearless. I kicked to his left knee, low
and fast. He moved back quickly. I wasn't doing
him any damage, but he also couldn't get a hold on
me.
Then he made his first mistake. He glanced at
Katrina for a second, just long enough to throw off
his defense of my next combination. My right fist
came in sideways behind his ear. He felt that one.
I let him have a half dozen of my best karate
punches. He blocked like a champ, but even
blocked they must have hurt. I had the initiative
but couldn't keep it. We squared off again. I
moved around him kicking hard and low at his legs
every time he moved in toward me. It was like
fighting a mountain. He was a black belt and a
good one. One of us was going to get smashed.
I kept the pressure on his knees and legs, connect-
ing several times. They were conservative kicks by
any measure. I was taking as few chances as pos-
sible. He reached down and scooped me up by the
ankle, anyway. For a moment I hung weightless.
Then I came dowrf hard. Chubby moved in to
pounce on me, all two hundred and fifty pounds or
so. I kicked up at him and rolled, then rolled again.
I spiraled to my feet and threw a punch with my
right, straight across. He jerked his head back to
get out of the way, and.l kicked him in the left
knee. I ducked and moved around him as quickly
as I could, then gave him a side kick into the back
of the same knee. I was so busy I didn't see the
backhand headed for the bridge of my nose. I
dropped to one knee. I was stunned for a moment.
I bit my lip viciously and forced myself to my feet,
still dazed. I wiped off the blood with my sleeve




48
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
and kept circling, kicking low to the ankle.
I saw a small, solid-looking chair on one of my
turns, only a couple of steps away. I grabbed it and
threw it at him hard and high. He caught it in mid-
air, laughed, and tossed it back to me. I grabbed it
as it went by, crouched low, spinning all the way
around with it as fast as I could and let go. This
time I was serious. I aimed it low and started mov-
ing in to take advantage of any opening it might
provide me. He kicked the chair casually aside but
in doing so the seat turned and caught him on the
knee. I heard him grunt. Since the first toss hadn't
been serious he didn't take the second seriously
enough.
I kicked high with everything I had. He blocked
it with his arm, but was knocked off balance
momentarily. I leapt at him and pounded away
with both fists, but it was mostly for show. I got
what I wanted, though, a hard kick to the same
knee I'd been working on. I moved back before
those big hands got hold of me, circled right and
kicked low, again and again, at his legs.
I hit him solid a half dozen times, but for the life
of me I couldn't see he was any worse for it. I
backed off, caught my breath, and went in again as
committed as a panther. Suddenly he had my arm.
I fought to free myself, but the pain was too much.
I was forced to the floor, slowly and methodically.
If I hadn't gone down, my arm would have broken.
But if I had been fighting for my life I might have
let him break it first. I saw a foot come down hard
next to my head. I pushed and tried to roll. He was
getting in position again. The pain was excruciat-
ing. I gave him a karate chop across his injured
knee. He grunted softly, but I knew this one hurt
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
49




49
him. I had been softening up the knee since the
fight started. No foot on my head now. He kicked
me in the jaw just as I slammed his knee a second
time. It felt like a baseball bat when his foot hit me,
but I found -myself still conscious so I knew it
couldn't have been as bad as it felt.
Somehow I had managed to puil away. When I
got my bearing I knew it was smash-and-bash time,
forget judo, aikido, and the rest. I went for him,
intent on finishing him. I felt the adrenalin kick in.
I hit him a good one over the right eye. I could see
the pain fog him for a second, but he came at me
like a charging bull. I popped him a couple of mean
ones as I moved out of his way. Then I took a hard
one. It looked like a battle of attrition. I moved
and hit, and moved, and moved, keeping him off-
stride, waiting for a chance to get in something sol-
id. I came in at him fast, trying to catch him out of
sync. I guess he was playing the same game on his
end, because the next thing I knew, I was taking a
sky-diving lesson without a parachute.
I was fast enough and flexible enough that he
was never able to follow up on the moves. This
time when I slipped loose I kept close to him. I
reached for my belt with my right hand. He moved
forward. I slashed him across the side of the face
with the big brass belt buckle. I swung again for his
eyes, but it was a feint. My left foot came in from
the other side, smashing into his neck. Then I
kicked his weakened knee as hard as I could. He
went sprawling on his side. While he tried to get
over on his stomach and push himself up, I got in
a second kick to his head. I thought it was all over,
but I saw him struggling to his feet. I reached for
the chair lying on the floor nearby.
50



50
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
"Touch that chair, Mr. Jesse James, and you'll
have a second belly button bigger than the first."
Katrina had the gun pointed right where she said
she did. I looked at her. Out of the corner of my
eye I could see Chubby slipping back down to the
floor.
"What's that?" she shrieked, noticing the belt in
my hand for the first time. I guess she hadn't fol-
lowed the action. I looked at the bloody belt buckle
hanging from my hand.
"What have you done, you son-of-a-bitch? You
cheated!" She looked at me with hate and ran over
"Ivo, Ivo!" She kept Wilhelmina
to Chubby.
trained on me. "Move one inch and you're dead."
I stayed put. I still had my hand on the chair. She
brushed Ivo's hand away from his face and saw the
bloody welt.
She looked at me. I had seen that look before. It
meant: I am going to kill you.
"Wait," I said. "I did that for a reason. I had
Chubby beaten fair and square."
"You're dead," she said. There was a fierce glow
in her eyes. She sighted the pistol on my heart.
"I was making a point. Do you think OZNA will
play by the rules? You can't fight them with com-
petition judo no matter how good Chubby is."
"That's it for you, Jesse James," she said. I could
see her finger curl tighter around the trigger.
"No, Katrina, no," Chubby said as he reached
for her arm. "Stop! He is right. Judo is only a
sport. I've not been in more than two real fights in
my life. Katrina, they won't play by any rules."
She looked down at him and put her left hand on
his face. I threw the chair but this time not at
Chubby. It knocked Wilhelmina free of her hand. I
THE DUBROVNIk MASSACRE
51





51
moved right in after the chair. I grabbed her arm
and held it behind her. I was angry: She had been
about to kill me until Chubby spoke up.
"How do you think this would have ended if I
were OZNA? You just got both you and your
friend kilkd." I tried to fill my voice with disgust.
I let her loose and walked over to pick up
Wilhelmina. On the way I saw her reach for her
jacket pocket.
"Katrina, enough," Ivo said. C' This man is a
guest in my house. I won't have any more of this."
I kept quiet, but she looked at me with eyes full of
venom. Ivo put his big arm around her and led her
from the room. He had a bad limp.
"He is not a guest. He is a goon," I heard her say
as they walked into the hallway.
"Katrina," he said in a calming voice. I went
over and pulled out a large overstuffed chair so I
could collapse into it. I wasn't feeling too good.
My arm felt like it had been burned. I ran my hand
along it testing to see if any of the recent repair
work had been undone. Everything seemed okay. I
took a deep breath and started getting myself to-
gether.
Their absence gave me a chance to look around
the room for the first time. There actually wasn't
much furniture. The large room would still look
bare when everything was put back in its place.
There were a lot of sculptures around. some made
of white marble, others of some kind of black stone.
Several were pretty large. I guessed the place was
pretty much what Katrina had said it was before
she hit me with a sap in the hallway: a sculptor's
studio set in the industrial part of town the same
way they often are in the U.S. I guess Chubby
NICK CARTER




52
(60 of 260)
52
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
needed a lot of space to work, plus the big wall-
sized windows. I went over to take a look out.
There was little traffic and not many pedestrians.
I heard a noise and turned around. It was just
Chubby coming in the room, looking sheepish. He
had a bottle and three tumblers in his hands. He
limped and his face had a bandage on it. Another
half-inch and he'd have been a one-eyed sculptor. I
was a little surprised to see him up and around.
Any one of a dozen blows I had struck him with
would have put a normal man out of commission
for a week.
He handed me a tumbler and leaned against the
table.
"Ivo getting old," he said, continuing in broken
English. "Ivo, one-time Yugoslav national champ."
He pointed to himsel[ That made me feel better
about having such a hard time with him.
"Sorry about that," I said, pointing to the band-
age on his cheek.
"Okay," he said. "Russian vodka, good stuff."
He filled my tumbler and then his own.
"Good fighting," he said. We clinked our
glasses. He drank it down like water and so did I.
He was pleased when he saw my glass empty. He
filled us both up again.
' 'Medicine. "
"Medicine," I repeated. We saluted each other
and drank it down. Katrina came into the room,
gave me an evil look, picked up her pistol, and
stalked out. "I don't think she likes me," I said. He
said nothing. A minute later he sighed and took a
deep breath.
"Move furniture, then more," he said gesturing
to the vodka bottle. I helped him move the stuff
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
53




53
back in place and almost knocked over a sculpture
in the process. I was feeling less pain but more
wobbly. When we finished, we both sat down heav-
ily on the couch and drank down another glass.
"Food?" he asked. I shook my head. Food was
the last thing-I wanted.
"Rest," he said, indicating the couch. He pulled
out a brightly colored Yugoslav blanket and laid it
on one end.
"Sleep?"
"I speak Serbo-Croatian," I said.
"Okay, good English. American real good." He
smiled and waved at me with his hand to lie down.
"Rest," he said and limped off down the hall. I
stretched out thinking I'd rest a minute and then
think things over. When I opened my eyes, it was
eight hours later.









CHAPTER VI
Light filled the room through the large, dirty
window. Ivo was sitting a few feet from me in a
large, overstuffed chair. I was groggy at first but
came around quickly as I always do. The sun was
up and it felt warm. As soon as I sat up I realized
my body still ached. Ivo reached over with his big
hand and gave me a tumbler of vodka.
"Medicine," he said, looking at me sympa-
thetically. I drank it down to be polite.
"Come, we go breakfast. Late now," said Ivo.
"What about Katrina?" I asked.
"Let sleep. Bad day, her father very sick." He
continued to speak broken English.
"I speak Serbo-Croatian," I said in that lan-
guage.
"l know. You said last night. Ivo need practice
English. Have forgotten much. Must give speech."
His eyes brightened when he remembered his
speech.
"Okay," I said, "but not in public. Your speech
is about sculpture?"
"Yes, Jesse, about sculpture."
"Nick is the name," I said.
"Okay, Nick. I see." figured he didn't. Katrina
54





55
had called me Jesse about twenty-times last night,
but I let it pass.
"You're sure it's safe to go out? You're not
being watched?"
"I'm sure, Nick. Ivo is not political, so why
should they Watch?"
He gave me a happy smile. What the hell, I
thought, and started getting ready.
Once outside it felt good to stretch my legs. We
walked a few blocks.
"This area is new," I said.
"Most Belgrade is new, Nick. Bad bombing by
Nazis, but even during World War I, much de-
stroyed. "
In the cafe we had a typical Yugoslav breakfast
of pastry and turkish coffee and talked about in-
nocuous stuff in Serbo-Croatian. He was a fanat-
ical soccer fan like many Yugoslavs. We looked
over the papers. They reported the Fox's condition
was unchanged.
On the way back I asked him about judo and he
told me who he had been up against. He had been
matched against the best and had done pretty well.
He was strong and well trained, but he just didn't
have that driving desire that makes you number
one. Ivo had great natural talent, but the bot-
tom line was that he just did not like hurting
people.
He showed me around his studio. It was a big
room, even larger than the living room, and filled
with statues and sculptures, some completed, some
mere outlines. There were tools, chisels, mallets,
gouges, drills, and barrels of plaster of Paris and
ladders scattered around. He did a lot of big stuff.
Some of it was larger than he was. Most were of





56
(64 of 260)
56
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
figures that were realistic in their detail but not ab-
stract either.
"Do you know who?" he asked. I'd been stand-
ing in front of a large female nude for several
minutes. I had just started to tell him no when I
realized it was Katrina. She looked twice as good
as I had imagined.
At that moment, she wandered into the studio
looking for Ivo, I suppose. When she saw me, she
walked out without saying anything. I started to
ask her how her father was, but she waved me off.
"Very friendly," I said.
"Very unhappy," he replied, getting ready to go
to work. I pulled up a chair. He was working on a
large marble statue of a seated woman, but Katrina
hadn't posed for this one. The model must have
weighed almost as much as Ivo himself.
"Why didn't you use a thinner model?" I gave
him a wink and made a shape in the air.
"Sometimes," he said, pointing to several statues
around the room. "But you know Playboy bunny
too easy to make beautiful. Make fat lady beautiful
is hard. You understand?"
"Sure," I said. I relaxed and watched him chip
away. Those massive arms and hands had a deli-
cate touch when it came to his work. He looked
around at me. He was carving something at the
foot of the woman. He gave me a big, toothy smile.
"What is?"
I should have known immediately what it was. I
had been watching him work on it. I walked over
for a closer look. I had watched one ear appear and
then another. The rest was barely outlines. It
looked like a lump of stone.
'SA cat," I said. He laughed and patted me on the
back.
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
57






57
"Good, good," he said, continuing to laugh. He
was obviously pleased with his creation. It was a
wonderful joke to him to be able to carve a cat. I
watched him for a few more minutes, but I didn't
plan to sit around all day. I went to look for
Katrina. She-was in the kitchen leaning against a
table, eating a piece of bread.
"Hey," I said. 'SThat will stick to your hips."
' 'What can I do for you, Mr. Jesse James?"
"What's happening?"
"Today, nothing, as far as you are concerned.
Tomorrow, maybe something. Rest. Play tourist."
"What about you, what are you doing today?"
"That's for me to know and you not to worry
about."
I eyed her for a moment. I had some ideas.
have to go get my luggage. Maybe I'll take in a
couple of art galleries and be back this evening," I
said.
"You've seen no sign the apartment is being
watched?"
"None. "
"Please be careful coming and going. Ivo doesn't
know anything about politics or care. I don't want
anything to happen to him."
'KI can understand that," I said.
I picked up my stuff at the safe house and
brought it back over. It was already late afternoon.
Katrina was out. Ivo didn't know where, and he
was busy working. I took a cab to Belgrade's
Frescos Museum, ducked out a side door, and
caught another cab to within half a mile of the hos-
pital. I walked the rest of the way. I had decided to
drop in for a chat with Katrina's father. After all,
it was the old man himself who had asked for me.
One thing was certain: Katrina would tell me as




58
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
little as she could. If I couldn't find out what was
happening from Ankevic I'd just have to play
along, and that could be dangerous for all of us.
The hospital building looked new. Hospitals
look the same around the world, but more im-
portantly, they are a difficult kind of building to
make secure. There are so many employees, pa-
tients, relatives, rooms, closets, doors, labs—that's
what I like best about them. I looked over my sport
coat and shirt and walked in with an air of author-
ity. It didn't take me long to borrow a
and white coat. Suddenly I was Dr. Nick. No one
challenged me, and the first part of the operation
went smoothly. I was genuinely relaxed.
It took me a while to find out which floor
Ankevic was on without drawing attention to my
inquiries. Now came the tricky part. They had cor-
doned off the whole floor he was on. Except for
other intensive-care patients and their doctors, no
one was admitted. I would have to go up there
without any clear idea of the security arrange-
ments. I waylaid a nurse to see if I could learn any-
thing more. I complained loudly that the security
measures were interfering with my duties. She told
me conspiratorily to be careful, there were OZNA
around and why was bothered anyway, there was
no one on that floor but intensive-care patients. I
told her I had just had a patient moved up there.
She explained what I would have to do to be ad-
mitted to the floor.
I had to call the floor, tell them my name and my
patient's name, my reason for going up, and wait
to be paged. If everything checked out, guards
would come and get me and take me up in a special
elevator. What I needed now was information. I
looked for an out-of-the-way nurses' station. It
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
59



59
took me a while to find one. I was going through
the files when a nurse supervisor came up and
asked if she could help me. She was suspicious and
persistent. She wanted to know my name. I gave
her my big smile and popped her on the jaw. I
dragged hek hehind the counter and tied her up
with her shoelaces and pantyhose, then tucked her
into a nearby closet. I wrote a little sign which said
"Do Not Open" and pasted it to the door. Then I
tried my best to jam the door shut, all the while
keeping a weather eye for new company. It came in
the form of a young, helpful nurse who walked up
just after I had got things tidied up. She showed me
where the records I was looking for were.
I put doctor, patient, and disease together and
made my call. I waited. There were two armed
guards in the elevator when it came down. They
looked me over, seemed satisfied, and up we went.
I walked out on the floor. The elevator guards re-
mained where they were, but I had to explain to the
two guards sitting at a nearby desk who I was.
"You know the way," they said, looking satis-
fied with my explanations. But of course I didn't. I
walked slowly down the hall, eyeing the numerous
gunmen. They were carrying Czech-made Skor-
pion machine pistols—awfully heavy weaponry for
guard duty. I walked down the corridor, but I was
approaching a bad problem. The intensive-care
nurses would know I wasn't Dr. Kosovo. From the
small sign high up on the right side of the passage-
way, I decided the unit would be somewhere
around the next corner. I turned the corner, nose in
the air. Two guards stood in front of a doorway,
looking as tough and well trained as the others. I
walked on by, nodding to them as I passed.They
didn't respond but instead eyed me coldly. I kept
60




60
(68 of 260)
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
walking until the hallway made another sharp an-
gle.
Finding myself alone in the corridor, I pushed
my way into the nearest room. It was a small ward
that must have been cleared out for security rea-
sons. I looked around and then went over to the
window. I couldn't see much, so I kicked out the
screen. I leaned out and looked to the left toward
the guarded ward. The building was built sort of
like a checkerboard. Only the squares represented
by the protruding windows were separated from
each other by about three feet. The windows were
fitted in what looked like precast concrete squares.
In any case, they stuck out about four inches from
the rest of the building. I looked straight down.
The building consisted of a wide, two-story build-
ing from which the narrow ten-story tower I was in
emerged. So I was partially protected from anyone
seeing me move along the outside of the building. I
was on the east side of the building, and it was get-
ting dark and the trees from the park across the
street further blocked the view. I looked at my
watch and decided to give myself another half hour
before making my move.
When the darkness outside was complete, I took
a look at the ledges again. I'm an experienced tech-
nical climber, so I was only mildly worried. If I had
had the proper equipment there would have been
no problem at all. I took off my shoes and socks
and stuffed them in my coat pockets. Then I took
off my white doctor's coat and tied it around my
waist. I climbed out on the windowsill. I looked
down. Ihe drop was certainly enough to kill me.
Climbing along the segments was going to be no
problem. lhere were two concrete ledges on top so
I could reach up and place fist jams to hold myself.
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
61



61
(69 of 260)
+ 110%
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
61
Getting across the space between the segments was
going to be a little tricky.
I made my way along the first window segment
without a problem, although I didn't realize how
windy it was until I had gotten completely outside.
I reached Nie end of the segment. The next ledge
was three feet away. I jammed my left fist as tight
as I could and angled over the gap with my leg. I
pushed myself out into space, first balancing on my
left foot, then on my right. I did a jam with my
right hand and released my left. It wasn't as bad as
I figured. I moved across the next segments as
quickly as I could. Crossing to the third segment I
slipped. I was hanging by one hand for a second
but I finally got a firm hold with my other hand.
The wind was giving me more trouble. It looked
like I had another problem. The next window was
lit. After some difficult maneuvers I managed to
peek in the window.
I could move up or down; either choice was dan-
gerous. I chose up. To get up there I had to do a
stem jam; my back would be against one slab and
my feet against the other. Not a hard move if you
know how to do it, and if you have a nice deep
crevice to ascend. The vertical protruding slabs
gave me a little more depth than horizontals, but it
still amounted to only about five and one-half in-
ches, which meant I had to use my free left arm in
tricky ways that were tricky even when you are as
skilled as I am. I made it clambering the last foot.
I was sweating like J had been in a sauna. I saun-
tered along the next segment. Dropping down was
not as difficult, though I wouldn't do it as a parlor
trick.
I made it the rest of the way across to Ankevic's
window without any problems. I peeked in. Two
62





62
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
guards sat in the miffdle of the room with machine
pistols in their laps. There was a partition behind
them. I assumed that was where Ankevic was. I
heard voices and pulled back just in time. A guard
walked up to the window, turned slightly, and
tossed a bottle into a wastepaper basket. There
were at least two more guards I couldn't see. The
game was all over. All my effort had been for noth-
ing. I dangled outside the window for another five
minutes hoping a miracle would happen. When the
time I had allotted myself was up, scuttled back
over ledge after ledge until I came to the lighted
window. I didn't want to climb a story again unless
I had to, so I took a peek. It was empty now, so I
yanked out the screen and pulled myself in.
I had almost crossed the room when the door
opened a foot, but the intruder stopped, turned,
and began to answer an unseen questioner. By the
time he had stopped speaking and turned to corne
in the room, I was behind the door. I caught him
with a karate chop on the back of his neck and
pushed the door closed with my foot. If he had
come a minute later I would have hidden, but as it
was, I just didn't have time. He dropped in my
arms. I pulled him over to a nearby corner, pulled
open a door that turned out to be a closet, and
stuffed him in.
The door began to open again so I ducked in the
closet myself. I soon realized they were using the
room as a lounge. I couldn't make out what they
were saying, but it didn't amount to much at first.
Then I realized they were talking about the Fox.
They were talking about guarding him. That infor-
mation did unpleasant things to my brain. These
weren't a bunch of OZNA's thugs, they were the
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
63




63
Fox's bodyguard, and they were good. Suffice it to
say that over the last forty years nearly every major
espionage agency in the world had tried to kill the
Fox at least once and he was still alive. It was time
for Nick to take a powder.
I knew then-I was going to have trouble getting
out of the hospital alive. No wonder the bastards
were carrying Skorpions.
I waited until the guards finished their coffee and
left. I was heading for a window when I heard a
familiar voice. Katrina! I hurriedly put on my
shoes and rearranged my white coat. Then I
opened the door wide and walked out into the hall
with a big smile on my face. I could see five guards
in the hallway. Katrina was talking to one a few
feet away. I walked right over to her.
"Miss Ankevic, I must speak with you a mo-
ment." She turned to face me. When she saw who
I was, her eyes went wide for a second. I was sure
she would scream. In preparation for which I said:
"No, Miss Ankevic, your father is still alive." She
put her hand to her mouth. I took her arm and
walked down the hallway toward the elevators.
"What are you doing here?" she asked angrily in
English.
"If you don't speak Serbo-Croatian, I'll have to
hurt you," I said with a big, friendly smile.
' 'You wouldn't last long, Jesse James. These are
the Fox's bodyguards."
"So I've gathered. Nice of you to let me know
before I came walking in here."
"If you had followed orders and remained in the
apartment you wouldn't be in so much trouble.
You're supposed to help us. You don't run things,
you don't make decisions. I do."
64





64
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
"This is not a good place to discuss our prob-
lems. Right now my big objective is getting out of
here alive. "
"What do you want me to do?"
"Just keep walking with me to the elevators. Af-
ter I've gone down, ask the guards who I was. Tell
them I was a doctor you had never met before."
We waited for the elevator without speaking. I
wasn't too worried. I had Wilhelmina in my
pocket, and Hugo up my sleeve. I hoped Katrina
wouldn't scream and betray me and that we'd be
pals from here on out, but I wasn't depending on it.
You can't assume such things in my profe«sion.
When the elevator arrived, we shook hands for-
mally and I said: 'C Your father needed something
important done. I hope you are doing it." She
flushed, then turned and walked away. I figured I'd
leave her with something to think about. But she
got herself together very quickly. As she walked
down the hallway, she tumed around to stare at
me. She flashed me a hard look. I had a nice, quick
ride downstairs with the two elevator guards. They
let me off on the second floor. I stood waiting for
the elevator to take me to the first, that was the
system. It was a long time coming and I didn't see
any stairs. "Ihe alarm went off just before the sec-
ond elevator 01kned on the first floor.
People stopped and stared around, not knowing
what to do. I walked through the bright, crowded
lobby. There were a dozen guards at the front
door. They were regular police rather than the
Fox's bodyguard. Still the odds were bad. 1160ked
around and saw a side exit. There were two uni-
formed guards standing in front of the double
doors. One already had his pistol in his hand, the
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
65




65
other was still fumbling around for his. In a minute
the Fox's Skorpion-packing guards would be be.
hind me. I wouldn't last long. I walked down the
neon corridor toward the doors at a calm, even
pace. They pointed their pistols at me.
"Stop!" -
"A homicidal maniac is loose," I said. "I am his
doctor." I'm not sure they believed me, but they
didn't shoot and I kept walking.
' 'Doctor, you can't leave. Orders."
"l know, I know, you oafs. I'm his doctor and
' I'm looking for him. Why are you pointing those
guns at me? You fools. I've come to tell you what
the man looks like."
They let me walk right up to them. I glanced
around. Down the corridor I could see two of the
Fox's bodyguards headed in our direction. What
happened next is one of those things that is bound
to occur in my profession, one of the things no-
body likes to talk about. The two guards in front of
me were a couple of innocents, not OZNA, not
bodyguards, not police. They had been handed
pistols, promised pensions, and told to guard a
hospital.
I flicked my wrist. Does a cobra see its own
strike? The one on the right clutched at his fibrilat-
ing heart, the young, pimply-faced one on the left
tried to stop his throat from gushing blood. I
pushed through to the door, wiping Hugo on a
shirt sleeve as I went by. Neither man had uttered
a word or got off a shot, even though their pistols
had been pointed at me. I was running down the
steps outside when I heard the first bursts from the
Skorpions splattering through the doorway.
Out in the street I melted into the crowd, pulling
NICK CARTER






66
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
off my white coat as I went and tossing it into the
garbage can. That was the end of Dr. Nick. I took
the usual measures to make certain I wasn't being
followed. It took some time, but I was sure that I
had gotten away free.
When I arrived back at Ivo's studio, I thought it
was deserted, but then I found him in his studio
exactly where I had left him hours earlier. There
was more cat visible than earlier. He was tapping
out cat whiskers and chuckling to himself with
pleasure.
"How you like, Nick?"
"Looks like cat whiskers to me," I said.
"Medicine, Nick?"
"Yeah," I said, "why not?" I found the cabinet
he told me he kept it in and hunted up a couple of
glasses.
"Ivo," I said, "what's this all about? I can't help
unless I know what's going on."
"You will have to ask Katrina. She told me not
say. Her father is very great man, Nick. He did
much protect artists years ago."
"But how can I help if she won't tell me any-
thing? Are you a political dissident like Katrina?"
"Katrina is my friend, Nick. I don't know poli-
tics. Her father great man. I make freedom
statements in stone." He gestured to his cat.
"How are a cat's whiskers a statement?" I asked.
He was bent over finishing them as carefully as if
his life depended on how they turned out.
"Is good whiskers, no, Nick?" he said. I laughed.
What could I do? I'd get more information out of
Katrina.
"More medicine?" I asked, filling the tumblers.
"Okay, Nick," he said.







67
(75 of 260)
110%
CHAPTER VII
"Bastard! Son-of-a-bitch!" Katrina had a few
more choice words for me in Serbo-Croatian as she
pounded on my still half-asleep body. I grabbed
her and we rolled around off the floor awhile.
There were things I'd much rather have done roll-
ing around on the floor with her other than fight.
She smelled and felt great. I pinned her arms to the
floor and asked her what she was mad about. She
almost spit at me.
"Those two men you killed, you bastard! You
didn't have to do that. You shouldn't have been at
the hospital. Two people died unnecessarily be-
cause of you. "
g 'First of all," I said, "who are you to second
guess me about whether or not the guards had to
be killed? Have you ever been in a fight? What do
you think happens when you get caught in a nar-
row corridor by a couple of guys with machine
pistols?" I gave her a hard stare. "Second. You lied
to me. If you had told me the Fox's bodyguard was
protecting your father, I never would have gone.
And third, you blew the whistle too soon before I
had a chance to get out of the building. You're as
responsible for those men's deaths as am." That
68




68
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
would give her little liberal heart something to feel
guilty about.
"You son-of-a-bitch!" she said, tears welling up
in her eyes. "Trying to blame this on me." Ivo
chose that minute to wander into the room. Find-
ing us lying pelvis to pelvis, he discreetly walked
back out again.
"It's war," I said. ' 'These things always happen
in war. Do you really think only the bad guys get
killed? Why do you think everybody in their sane
mind is for peace?"
"You give me lectures about peace. You're a
professional murderer. You've been here two days
and already the violence has begun. Those poor
men had families."
' 'The way I figure it you shouldn't carry a gun
unless you plan to use it. Do you think they
wouldn't have stopped me? I'd be the one who is
dead. And I didn't start the violence. Your father
wasn't hit by accident."
"You don't know that," she said. I sighed and
rolled off, letting her get up.
"You're an animal, do you know that?" she said
as she stood.
"It wouldn't have happened if you had told me
what was going on."
"Mr. Jesse James, if I don't feel you are going to
cooperate and follow orders, I'm not going to take
you along no matter how much you might be
needed. Do you understand?" She turned and
stalked out of the room.
ler last point was a good one. I myself wouldn't
involve anyone who I thought was going to come
in and try to take over and not follow orders.
I heard pots and pans banging around in th
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
69




69
kitchen, cabinet doors being opened and closed. I
leaned back in a chair. There was nothing I could
do for the moment.
Ivo walked in after a while and shared a bottle of
vodka. He sat on the couch, his bulk so large that
he took up alinost half of it. "Katrina likes you,"
he said to me smiling.
"That's not the impression I said, sipping
my vodka.
"She is chip off the old block, Nick. She is stub-
born like two mules, but she has a good stomach.
Her father was in prison. Her mother is dead.
Aunts and uncles not the same thing. Yes?"
"Guts," I said. "She has guts. That's how you
say it in English." I didn't see any reason not to
help him work on his language skills.
"She has good guts," he repeated. I realized then
that Ivo was never going to be as good at linguistics
as he was at sculpture.
"She won't tell me what is going on," I said.
"That makes things very dangerous."
Ivo didn't say much by way of reply, just poured
me some more vodka.
Actually finding the Fox's bodyguard protecting
Ankevic confirmed Hawk's analysis of the situ-
ation down to the fine print. "To" but not "includ-
ing"—that was my problem. People were going to
die because I didn't know the details and couldn't
prepare a plan.
Two things were clear. Yugoslavia had to be in a
terrible danger or the two men wouldn't have been
forced to work together. And the Fox must have
figured out some way to use Ankevic to defeat the
threat. The first piece of information pointed to the
KGB and the local Stalinist CRML cells as the
70





70
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
enemy or why else choose Ankevic? But the second
piece of information yielded nothing. What could
Ankevic and a few dissidents do to stop the plot? I
had only Katrina's slip that we would be going some-
where. My musings were interrupted by sounds of an
argument from the kitchen. I couldn't follow all of it
through the closed door, but I gathered she had set
only two places for dinner. A few minutes later I was
called in to eat.
Katrina looked a little chastened during the
meal. She sat silently, picking at her food and look-
ing thoughtful. The main course was teleca corba
leso, a rich, spicy stew made with veal , sausage, red
and green peppers, and tomatoes. They toss an egg
or two in at the last minute which sounds a bit
strange but tastes good. We drank a couple of bot-
tles of fine Serbian wine called Negotinsko. We fin-
ished off with turkish coffee and dishes of sweet
noodles. Ivo was a big eater, I noticed, but a civ-
ilized one. We talked mostly about soccer. Ivo
planned to take a year off from sculpture to trave!
around the world and attend soccer games in every
city and country he went to. That was the big
dream of his life.
I was worried about what would happen to him
after we left. I suggested he leave soon, but he told
me about how many commissions and sculptures
he had to do. I looked to Katrina for help.
"It might be a good time to go, Ivo. Things
could become very dangerous here. " She looked at
him worriedly. "I know they have never harmed
you before. You've been protected because you are
the most famous sculptor in our country
"—Ivo
blushed when she said this--—"but this might be dif-
ferent. They were afraid to attack my father for
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE





71
many years after he got out of prison because of all
the books he wrote. They might make it look like
an accident."
s 'But, Katrina, I'm not political, I don't know
anything. Ivo is not afraid of goons." He flexed his
massive armi.
"I think you should go for a while," I said.
"I'll think about, Nick," he said. But involun-
tarily he glanced back toward his studio and his
unfinished work. I knew he wouldn't leave but said
nothing more. I rested my chin on my hand and
watched Katrina slowly finish her dinner. Ivo got
up saying he had some work to finish in the studio
and left us alone.
"Okay, Mr. Jesse James, I'll tell you where we
are going and why." She still sounded firm, but
something in her had changed. She sounded weary.
Maybe she had realized we were playing for keeps.
Ivo probably had a lot to do with it.
She went on. "You know the Fox drove out the
Red Army and broke with Stalin in 1948. When the
Fox broke with him, Uncle Joe had fifteen thou-
sand armed followers in our country. This is not
counting the Red Army. "Ihe Fox had a few of these
Stalinists shot, but most were sent to camps. They
were forced to write confessions and reform them-
selves. After that, all but a few diehards were re-
leased. Almost no one was killed. My father always
believed that the Fox's tactics just drove the
Stalinists underground and that if the Fox had
fought them fairly, they would have collapsed com-
pletely because they had no support among the
people.
' 'Unfortunately for us, my father was right and
only a few weeks ago the Fox learned they were
72




72
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
much stronger than he thought. Ihey have formed
an elaborate network of cells and call themselves,
in. English, the Committee to Return to Marxist-
Leninism, CRML. We call them Uncle Joe's fan
club and make a joke, but they are serious and very
dangerous. They are waiting for the Fox to die to
make their move. The secret, the Fox learned, was
that they had infiltrated OZNA, the party, and the
armed forces.
"My father was shocked when he received the
Fox's invitation. At first he refused to go, thinking
it was some kind of trick. But they pleaded with
him so that he finally consented. He had not
spoken to the Fox in thirty years. Remember that
at one time he was the Fox's right-hand man and
heir apparent. They were personally very close. My
father had been worried for some time about
CRML and always had his own sources. He be-
lieved that the Fox had failed to break them with
his purges and indeed thought he had discovered
evidence that CRML had infiltrated the Fox's own
secret police, OZNA, but his evidence was in-
conclusive. Still, he was shocked by what the Fox
told him. A man they both knew well confessed on
his deathbed that he had been blackmailed into
working for CRML and in turn for the KGB
twenty-five years ago. This man told the Fox there
were others being blackmailed, called them the
'controlled ones.' But he did not know who they
were. That's how all this began. We have to prove
the controlled ones exist, that's where I will need
your help. "
I took all this in in silence, sipping my coffee.
Thcn I said stoically, "How?"
' 'There are documents buried in the mountains
THE MASSACRE
73




73
that prove the controlled ones exist. All the names
are listed there too. We have to go on a long jour-
ney."
"Journeys are fine," I said, "but the longer the
journey, the easier it is to pick up fellow travelers. "
"What do you mean?"
'SI mean that for starters I hope you covered
your trail tonight when you came back here. From
now on, every little mistake we make will carry
with it the possibility of being fatal. Mistakes build
on top of one another, too." I waited for a re-
sponse. None came. "Can you tell me if you were
followed. "
She gave a start. She said she had been careful,
but her expression clouded with doubt for a mo-
ment.
"Even if they can't follow you-—or us—without
being obvious, they'll go through lists of everyone
you know and stake out each apartment until they
find you."
"You are probably right, but I have only stayed
here two nights and we leave tomorrow. I've en-
dangered Ivo enough. "
"Ivo is not afraid. " The sculptor had picked that
minute to come back into the room. "Katrina is
my friend. I want to help."
"No, I want you to stay out of this. You have
your work to do," Katrina said. "Did you get the
packs?"
"Oh, yes. I bought them and the rest of what you
asked for. I'll get them," he said.
"We had better pack tonight so we will be ready.
Ivo will take us to the train station tomorrow. "
"Why the train? That seems unnecessarily slow.
Why not take a car?"
74





74
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
"Whose car do you have in mind? I can't take
mine. We can't take Ivo's or any of his friends'
without getting them involved in all this." She
threw up her hands.
"We'll steal one."
"Just the sort of suggestion I would expect from
you. No. We go by train."
"It doesn't make sense. "
"Mr. Jesse James," she said. "We do it my way
or not at all. Are you coming or not?"
I nodded. I would go along with her plans for
now.
"Please help pack," she said.
We cleared the table and soon it was piled high
with food and equipment. Ivo's packs were old-
fashioned but serviceable. I checked through the
gear.
There was a small, lightweight frying pan, nest-
ing cooking pots, canteens, cups, a coffeepot,
spoons, forks, knives. got a piece of paper and
wrote out a list. Mistakes, when you are far away
from civilization, are usually serious. Sometimes
they make you uncomfortable. Occasionally they
make you dead.
Katrina sat across from me bagging up the food.
She did not have freeze-dried food like we use in
the U.S., so we would have to carry more weight.
She brought fresh vegetables, peppers and
tomatoes and onions, some cloves of garlic, as well
as the dry stuff.
I looked over the clothes. There were sweaters,
extra pants, down jackets, a stocking cap and
gloves. The big danger in spring is not freezing, but
hypothermia. Your heating system gets overloaded
and can't cope with the heat loss. It happens when
you're tired, hungry, wet, and cold. This combina-
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
75








76
tion has killed people even in temperatures of forty
or fifty degrees. Wind is the key. If you're wet and
can't get dry, you can die in what seems like warm
weather.
"My problem is boots and socks,"
I said to
Katrina. '4L I'd known we were going mountain
climbing I would have brought my own."
"Ivo will get the name and address of a store for
you. You can buy some tomorrow."
' 'We're leaving early, aren't we?"
"Not until tomorrow night. I have to go to the
hospital and make the rest of the arrangements."
"l know professionals, Katrina. Every hour
we're here is dangerous. The more important you
are to them, the quicker they'll locate us."
"Nothing can be done," she said. "Everything is
arranged for tomorrow night."
"We should get some basic climbing equip-
ment,"
I said. "A rope, a couple of caribiners,
some pitons, and a rappel sling. We can get up and
down a mountain quicker that way. Have you done
any climbing?"
"I haven't, but biy the equipment you think is
necessary."
I started packing my stuff. I did it carefully, put-
ting heavy stuff high in the pack and close to my
back for balance. Ihen I went and got my
binoculars; my special minicamera, and ammunition
for Wilhelmina.
After I got back in the kitchen and started put-
ting stuff away, Katrina said, "I know what you
are thinking, Mr. Jesse James. As you say in Amer-
ica, I get this girl off in the woods and get in her
pants real easy. I warn you now. I have a pistol. I
will shoot you."
I smiled. "The thought never entered my mind.
NICK CARTER





76
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
Rest assured I will not touch you."
"Hey, what is all this bad talk?" said Ivo, com-
ing in the door. "We are friends working together.
I don't understand you, Katrina. You used to say
make love not war. Now you are always threaten-
ing people. Mr. Jesse James is guest in my house."
"He is not a guest or a friend. He is a secret po-
lice, a Western OZNA. If they ordered you to kill
me and my father, you would do it, wouldn't you?"
"They would never order me to do that," I said
uneasily.
"But if they did, you would do it, wouldn't you?
You would do anything they ordered you to do,
kill anyone they told you to. Ivo, you must under-
stand this is not a human being. This is part of a
powerful machine. You point to him and say 'Kill'
and he kills."
"Katrina, he is a human being. I don't want you
talking about guests in my house like that. All
these arguments give Ivo a headache." He got up.
"Stop this fighting. There are enough enemies out
there." He gestured to the street with his thumb as
he walked out of the room.







CHAPTER VIII
I waited for Katrina to get ready to leave for the
hospital so that I could follow her. I was sitting up
on the windowsill, watching the street.
"You sit in the morning sunlight like a cat,
Nick," Ivo said, "but unlike a cat you get more
tense instead of relaxed."
"Just thinking things over, Ivo."
' 'This is very dangerous thing you and Katrina
"That doesn't bother me. I just want the mission
to be a success."
"Ivo understand Katrina will be ready in a
Ininute. I think you have the address of the camp-
ing store?"
'"Yes. Everything is fine." I kept my eyes on the
street. Katrina yelled "goodbye" from the door. I
watched her from my window perch until she was
half a block away and then went down after her. I
wanted to make sure no one else was following her.
She was good. It took her about twenty minutes
to lose me. Perhaps I worried unnecessarily. Still,
following someone is most effective with a team.
Even the best individual is not as good a shadow as
a trained squad.
77



78
(86 of 260)
78
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
I found the camping store without difficulty and
bought the climbing rope and other stuff we
needed. I picked out the lightest and softest boots
they had which would still offer my feet some pro-
tection. When I got back I circled Ivo's block,
checking to see that the building was still secure.
On the way up the stairs to Ivo's studio I noticed a
good place-to hide the clothes and other valuables
I wouldn't be taking with me. I borrowed a chisel
and mallet from him and hid my belongings behind
the wooden stairs just before the landing. I told Ivo
where I'd hidden my things and to burn them if I
didn't come back.
"Ivo, you be careful," I said when I returned his
tools.
"Sure, Nick. You need help, let Ivo know."
She returned at dusk. I watched her coming
through the crowd, her beautiful long legs, her head
held high. She was being tailed. I wasn't sure at
first, but there was something funny about a small
man in a blue suit. He didn't look at her directly,
but then there was no reason for him to stop where
he did. I put the binoculars up to my eyes and fol-
lowed his gaze to a green car with three men in it.
He began walking again. I watched him until he
moved out of sight. There were others now. It took
me awhile to pick them out.
Katrina came into the room all smiles. "He is
better today," she said happily to no one in partic-
ular.
"Mr. Jesse James likes to watch birds," she said
when she saw the binoculars in my hand. ' 'Or is
there a girl across the way taking a shower?"
'G They've found us. You were followed."
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
79




79
(87 of 260)
+ 110%
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
79
Katrina walked up beside me. I handed her the
binoculars and pointed out the men. She took the
binoculars and watched the street carefully.
"I'm not sure," she said.
"Look at the green car. You can see the guy on
the right using the communications equipment."
"l can't believe it. How could they? Look, the
green car is leaving."
"The van behind them is their replacement."
"I don't see . . . What are we going to do? I'm
not sure about that van of yours, but the man
across the street is watching this building."
I took the binoculars, but I didn't really need
them. One thing I did notice was that Yugoslav
communications equipment was big and bulky
compared with American or, for that matter, Sovi-
et. They seemed to have communication only from
vehicle to vehicle. Their street operatives had to
rely on sight and gesture; That was good news. It
would make my job easier.
?" she said, puzzled. I
"How could they .
didn't say anything.
"Ivo," she yelled. "They have found us. We
must go now." Ivo came bursting into the room.
"What can I do, Katrina—I know, you rhust
take my car."
"No! Let me think."
"There'll be more in a few minutes. We must move
quickly or there'll be too many for us to escape," I
said, trying to hurry things along.
"So what do you suggest, Mr. Jesse James?"
"I'm going to draw them away," I said. "You
wait here exactly five minutes after I leave. Meet
me at the southeast corner of the square near the
train station."
80




80
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
"They'll see your pack and know you're going to
the station," she said nervously.
I thought a moment.
"Ivo take packs," the sculptor cut in. "You and
Katrina go, the way you plan, Nick. I will meet you
at the park."
Katrina looked at me. "Only if you promise to
leave the country," she said to him firmly.
Ivo shifted uneasily and looked at his feet.
Katrina looked at me again. We both knew he
wasn't going to leave.
"Okay, Ivo," I said. "I'll help you put the packs
in boxes. Then you can load them into your car.
But let's hurry. In a few minutes they'll have
enough men out there to follow anyone who comes
in or out of the building."
I watched Ivo load the car while Katrina paced
the room like a jaguar in a cage.
When Ivo returned I said, "If anyone is follow-
ing you, Ivo, try to lose them before you reach us.
But if you can't, put your headlights on low beam
when you come up the road. I'll take care of
them."
She started to say something, but I cut her off.
' 'Okay, I'm going." I took one more look out the
window before going downstairs. I poked my head
out the front door and then followed with the rest
of my body. They weren't going to shoot me; they
wanted to know where I was going first.
The streets were wet and shiny from the rain and
looked eerie in the yellow street lamps, but I didn't
have much time to appreciate the view. Four men
piled out of one of the cars and stood around for a
moment in a huddle. The van remained, along with
one more car to play it safe, I figured. I turned
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
81




81
right and walked in the opposite direction from my
destination, then cut across a broad street to throw
them off balance.
We were about six blocks from Ivo's studio and
I could still sense them behind me. At one point I
made a sharp left turn past a closed cafeteria and
noticed there were only three of them. Probably
one had stopped to tie his shoe and got lost.
There was no sign of a car following us. I looked
at my watch. Katrina would have left already. I
had, I figured, about three or four minutes to do
the job I had planned and still meet her on time.
Katrina had told me about a cul-de-sac about
half a mile from the station, and that's where I
headed, moving at a quick but unhurried pace.
When I reached it I entered without hesitation. A
lot of guys are leery of them because there's only
one way out—--one easy way, that is—but that
doesn't bother me. When go through the opposi-
tion, one way's as easy as another.
The asphalt streets turned to cobblestones as we
approached. I felt my heart rate go up, but other-
wise I was as solid as a rock.
The street was dark and very slippery. One old
man was hobbling along. "OZNA," I said. "Get
inside." He scuttled for a doorway. I could hear
footsteps clicking softly on the cobblestones be-
hind me. I walked to within thirty feet of the end of
the street and stepped into a doorway, making it
look as if I were going to visit someone. Out slid
Wilhelmina with my back still to them. I leaned out
to get a look at my hunters and immediately
ducked back. A silent bullet had nicked the door
inches from my head. There was another shot, and
I saw shadows fan out. Apparently they had lost
82





82
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
interest in knowing where I was going.
Just then one of the shadows stepped under a
light—a big mistake. From my position in the
dark, protected doorway I saw the shadow was a
man. I aimed and fired.
While he dropped onto the damp, cold stones
and the scent from Wilhelmina was still pungent in
the cool night air, another shadow cut across the
cul-de-sac. It too fell, this time with a reverberating
thud. I watched his gun go sliding across the cob-
blestones and come to a rest against a door jamb.
So far, so good, I thought, swinging Wilhelmina
around to seek out the remaining hunter.
He leaned out a bit too far from behind the front
of a gray sedan and I shot him in the neck. His
whole body lurched forward and then was still. I
carefully studied the cul-de-sac, looking especially
hard for the fourth hunter, but there was no one
else.
The whole thing had lasted maybe thirty sec-
onds. Although the sound of the rain had muffled
the shots, along with the silencers, several people
were still at their windows. I was gone before they
had a chance to get a good look at me.
My watch showed I had just enough time to
make it to the rendezvous before Ivo showed up, if
I walked fast. Running would have attracted atten-
tion.
When I reached the spot, Katrina was standing
huddled against a tree, looking very worried. She
tried to smile when she saw me, and I saw her turn
her eyes to the left. A tall, broad-shouldered goon
was leaning against a tree, the tip of his cigarette
growing brighter, then darker, very quickly. I came
up close to Katrina and pretended to give her a
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
83




83
kiss, at the same time pulling out Wilhelmina be-
hind the tree. I think he knew what I was up to,
because no sooner was Wilhelmina pointed when a
piece of bark flew off the tree about a foot from my
head. His second shot went wild and didn't appear
'to strike anything nearby. And then the big guy
was flat on his back, a bullet where his cigarette
had been. Katrina looked at me wide-eyed in pro-
test, but she seemed to realize it was either him or
us.
A few minutes later Ivo drove by, his headlights
on low beam. He stopped at a traffic signal across
from us, and I walked out into the street as if I were
going to cross it. But I went right up to the orange
Fiat behind him, knelt down pretending to look for
something I had dropped, and slashed their front
tire with Hugo. I hurried back to Katrina after the
light had changed and both cars pulled away.
"Okay," I said, "let's go," and we walked over
to the place we were to meet Ivo. He would have
lost his tail by then—I hoped.
I pulled Katrina along. "There's Ivo," she said,
pointing. There was no orange Fiat. He pulled over
and parked. We unloaded the packs and left the
boxes.
"I'm sorry I got you into this, Ivo," she said.
"Katrina, I am your friend," he replied.
"You must leave the country, Ivo," I said half-
heartedly. It was probably a waste of words; he
would never leave no matter what we said.
I started to walk across to the station, not with-
out misgivings. The station might be full of OZNA
or whoever had been chasing us. Katrina didn't
move. I turned around. "Well, are you coming?" I
asked. I watched Ivo drive off. No one followed.
84




84
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
"We're not taking the train," she said.
"What are we going to do then, walk?"
' 'No, Jesse James. Bring your pack." She began
walking down the block, but stopped in front of a
car about twenty feet from the corner. For a sec-
ond I didn't move, then I shouldered my pack and
followed her.
"Katrina," I said. "It won't do to keep holding
out on me any longer. We could get into some very
tricky situations."
"Always worrying, Mr. Jesse James, aren't
you?" she said, opening the car door and climbing
in after we had jammed our packs into the tiny car.
"Are we still going to the mountains," I asked,
"or are we going fishing instead?"
"Oh, fishing," she said, fumbling with the key.
"Good," I said, "there's nothing I like more
than sitting on a rock all day and catching fish."
g 'We are going to the mountains still, Jesse
James. Why are you so untrusting?" She finally got
the car started.
"Good," I said, ignoring her question, 'WI need
some exercise. "
She continued. "We are German-speaking Swiss
tourists," she said.
"Sure."
"Good. You'll find your passport in the glove
compartment. "
I looked at it. It was a pretty good forgery but
hardly up to AXE standards.
"We are Swiss tourists, newlyweds going on a
backpacking trip in exotic Yugoslavia to get away
from too many relatives."
"Sounds like fun," I said as we pulled out into
traffic.





85
(93 of 260)
110%
CHAPTER IX
It was a dark and rainy drive to Sremska
Mitrovica. F1he rain began in earnest as soon as we
got in the car. All I could see out of the rain-splat-
tered window was lightning flashing high up in the
black clouds and the momentarily blinding light
from the headlights of oncoming cars. We didn't
say much. Katrina concentrated on her driving and
on her thoughts, and I looked out the windows
dwelling on my own.
It was still dark and raining when we arrived at
the railway station. We struggled to get the packs
out of the car and ran across the parking lot to the
station. It was damp and cool inside, and though
the station wasn't large by any means, it had an
empty, cavernous feeling because there were only a
dozen people about. We took our places among the
wooden benches.
We had been sitting about five minutes when a
pretty woman in a white raincoat marched up to
within about ten feet of us. She stopped and un-
leashed a German shepherd, which bounded over
happily to Katrina. The woman didn't say any-
thing; she turned and went and sat on a bench op-
posite us.
86
85





86
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
' 'This is Grusha, my dog. I haven't seen her in
four days," Katrina whispered. I examined the
dog, a healthy and good-looking female with what
looked like good breeding. She was overjoyed to
see Katrina. No barking, so I thought she must be
well trained.
I looked around the station uneasily.
Abruptly Katrina said, "So tell me what you
think? Can I bring her with us?" I looked at her
surprised and then at the dog once more. "lf you
think it might spoil things I won't take her,"
Katrina said. I was even more surprised that she
had asked for an unbiased opinion.
s 'How long are we going to be in the moun-
tains?" I asked.
"Four or five days. We have plenty of food. She
is well trained."
"I can see that," I said. I thought it over: It really
wasn't a bad idea. We'd be out in the open forest
and mountains a long time and Grusha would be
added protection.
"Okay," I said, "take her."
"You're kidding." She sounded surprised.
"I told you my opinion. Why waste time?" She
looked at me carefully and then took her purse and
turned it around. The woman who brought the dog
got up and left without saying a word. A man in a
blue beret and dressed like a worker came up and
sat a few yards away. He opened a schedule and
looked it over impatiently. I watched as she
hooked the car keys onto the dog's collars She
moved her eyes slightly, looking at the man, and
the dog moved over to the man, who removed the
keys while petting her. A minute later he looked at
his watch, then got up and left.
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
87





87
"Why is it all right to take the dog?" asked
Katrina.
"The breed is right, the age is right, and the
training is right. And I'd like to know if we've got
company as soon as possible," I said. She actually
seemed to soften a bit toward me. The truth was, I
already had plans for Grusha.
Five minutes later the train arrived. I was in for
a surprise. We weren't going to ride in a passenger
car. Instead, as it came into the station, we walked
to the very end of the train.
"We are not Swiss," said Katrina, "but we are
newlyweds. I'm going to call the man we meet 'un-
cle.' We are Serbs. Otherwise everything is the
same."
I said, "Okay," but didn't like it. A lot of people
would remember us.
At the last moment we were ushered aboard the
caboose. It was an old car, darkly lit with ancient
yellow lamps, and permeated by smells of smoke,
wine, coffee, and the men who spent their hours
there. There were no bunks, but leather couches
had been pushed against all the walls of the two
compartments into which the car was divided.
Katrina's "uncle" introduced us. When they heard
we were newlyweds, our reception was even heart-
ier and all the more enthusiastic. We spent the next
hours being toasted and bearing the brunt of new-
lywed jokes.
After I had five or six glasses of wine I decided to
show Katrina a bit of affection. She was becoming
loud and boisterous, and finally relaxing a little af-
ter so many days of tension. One of the old gray-
beards even serenaded us accompanying himself on
the gusle, the ancient Slav single-strained violin.
88





88
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
Katrina used the opportunity to slip free of my
friendly clutches and dance with every man
aboard. Pretty soon she was sitting across from me
patting some guy on the knee. I decided to get
some air and went out and stood between the cars.
I took a deep breath and filled my lungs with the
cool damp air.
"A beautiful woman, your wife." I turned to see
I had been joined by three of the trainmen, who
had come out to smoke.
"Yes," I said, "she is lovely."
"It is good to begin a marriage in the country,"
said the graybeard. "The soul has room to breathe ,
to quiet itself, and commune with nature."
"Yes," I said.
'KI am happy that you agree," the old man re-
plied.
"You want to get off at Visoko?" asked a
younger trainman, changing the subject. I nodded.
"We don't normally stop there. You will have to
be ready and get off quickly. It's against regu-
lations to stop."
"We appreciate your help. Katrina really wants
to see her relatives there. "
"l thought she said old school friend?"
"Yes, well she is a little embarrassed that she
misses her family so much."
"Oh, sure, I understand. After all she is married
now and will not cee them often."
We rejoined the rest of the crew. There was more
singing and dancing. Toward morning everyone
dozed, exhausted from the night's revelry. I awoke
earlier than the rest and went out to see what morn-
ing was like. Grusha came with me and soon had
her muzzle stuck out in the wind. The sky had
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
89



89
cleared during the night and the whole landscape
had that fresh appearance you see only after a rain.
I watched the lime-green fields roll by. It was nice
to see a bit of the country.
"You son-of-a-bitch." I turned to see Katrina.
"What did O'Qu tell those men about me? They
looked at me very strangely."
"Nothing, Katrina. What could I tell them?"
She looked at me skeptically.
"I'd like to know our destination. I've been put
on the spot several times already. One of these days
it's not liable to be that funny."
"We are getting off at Visoko," she said. Then
she turned abruptly and went inside. I let out a
deep breath.
Three hours later we arrived. Katrina and I
stood at the end of the car with our packs on, wait-
ing for the train to pull up. Katrina told me they
were actually letting us off a little past Visoko so
there wouldn't beany trouble with the station mas-
ter. A quarter mile past the tiny village the train
braked to a stop. The train already was moving
again by the time we clambered down the embank-
ment.
"It's a twelve-mile walk to Sarajevo. We
couldn't very well have taken the train into the sta-
tion. It might be watched. We'll rent a car there."
The rest of the walk was uneventful. We reached
the outskirts of Sarajevo and then walked into the
central city. The city was a center of Turkish au-
thority when the Turks occupied much of Yugo-
Slavia, until the last century, and it had a pro-
nounced oriental flavor. noticed several mosques
as well as Christian churches. Katrina seemed to
know where she wanted to go and it soon became
90




90
+ 110%
NICK CARTER
apparent that we were going to a car rental office.
I agreed to go and rent the car myself while
Katrina waited at an outdoor café. I decided to use
my Belgian passport rather than the Swiss papers
Katrina had given me. Everything went smoothly
until it came time to actually pick up the car. I was
told I'd have to wait a half an hour until the car
was serviced. I walked out the door into the bright
sunlight, when I saw Jimmy Walker, one of the
Company's residents in Yugoslavia. More im-
portantly he saw me. I jaywalked across the street
to meet him. There was nothing else I could do. We
were, if not old friends, then long-time acquaint-
ances. We shook hands, eyeing each other's big
smiles. I had a problem, and I wondered if he had
one. I tried to read it from his eyes, but he was a
professional and I learned nothing.
"Nick, I'm amazed to find you in dull old Sara-
jevo. I won't ask what brings you our way. Hush,
hush, I'm sure."
'"You know why I'm here, Jimmy, as well as I
do." I watched him flush. I knew then he had been
told to keep an eye out for me. Probably every
Company agent in Yugoslavia had been told that.
I wondered how much he knew. He was probably
just making the rounds. He'd have people in his
pay at the pinch points of the city—the railway sta-
tion, bus depot, and airport. What worried me was
that some of them also might work for OZNA.
Suddenly it occurred to me how to test him. I'd
walk him right by Katrina. If he recognized her,
then I'd have to find a way to get out of this.
Katrina was waiting a block away. We started
walking along together.
"You know, Jimmy, AXE and the Company
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE




****** Result for Image/Page 1 ******
91
(99 of 260)
+ 110%
THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE
91
don't always see eye to eye, but we are on the same
side, aren't we, old buddy? And we both follow the
Man's orders. I mean, interservice rivalry has got-
ten out of hand in the past."
"Nick, Nick, what a way to talk. Not only do we
work for ttie-same side, but you and I are old
friends. We've never had any problems with you,
Nick; it's David Hawk. The guy has a strange at-
titude. He may have said some things to the Man
that weren't in his sister service's interest, but that's
done and forgotten."
"I'm glad to hear that, Jimmy, because, for ex-
ample, if you were to inadvertently blow my mis-
sion, I'd come here and have a talk with you."
"Nick, Nick, how could you even suggest such a
thing? This is your old friend, Jimmy, not some
thug you don't know. We're on the same side, bud-
dy. Hey, remember those dancers in Morocco?
What a night! You and me struggling against in-
ternational Communism, side by side, shoulder to
shoulder, for a better world."
We walked by Katrina. He looked her over,
pausing at all the right places, but otherwise
showed no sign of recognizing her. I supposed he
had not been told much more than to keep a
lookout for me. Katrina betrayed no emotion, but
I could tell by her rigid posture that she was wor-
ried. I gestured for her to stay put as subtly as I
could.
' 'Nick, let's stop in a bar and have a couple of
I had been wondering how to deal with
drinks."
Jimmy and his invitation looked like the way out of
my problem.
"Yeah, let's have a drink," I said. I planned to
make sure I picked the bar. We walked a couple of




13586