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THE ANDROPOV FILE
47
guessed they were phony. These, too, he placed in his
own pocket. When he could find no other papers or
identification on the body, he checked the corridor.
Empty.
He took a flask of vodka from his bag and held it, un-
tapped, in his left hand and hoisted the man with his
right arm.
He was almost to the end of the corridor when the
well-dressed businessman emerged from a compart-
ment.
Kadinskov drank lustily from the flask and greeted
the man in a slurred voice. At the same time, he shielded
the front of the body from view.
The cigar smoker made a wry face and squeezed by
them.
Kadinskov carried his burden to the platform between
cars. He propped the body up in a corner and lit two
cigarettes. One he smoked himself, the other he stuck
between the dead man's lips.
Then he opened the top half of the door and waited,
every few minutes leaning out to look down the tracks.
Two passengers walked through, neither of them pay-
ing any attention to the two lolling drunks.
Kadinskov looked out again. Five hundred yards
ahead was a tunnel.
He readied the body, and the moment they were
engulfed in darkness, he heaved it through the opening.
He closed the upper half of the door, and by the time
the train emerged from the tunnel, he was back in his
compartment.
A half hour later the train stopped in the tiny village
of Isvit. Kadinskov got off and went directly to the
men's room. He changed into heavy outdoor clothes
and snow boots. The bag he shoved to the bottom of a
large waste can.
For the next half hour he wandered the streets of the
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NICK CARTER

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NICK CARTER
small village until he found a small garage that rented
snowmobiles.
The young man was most obliging, even telling Kad-
inskov the best places within a five-mile radius for ice
fishing.
It was ironic.
He rented the snowmobile with the dead man's
credentials, and paid for it with the Finnish markkas he
had taken from the body.
Carter paid the cabdriver at the road and walked up
the long, snow-covered lane to the cabin. He could see
by the fresh tracks that Nina had already arrived.
In his mind he could still see the stark look of fear on
her face when the last of the train's passengers had
passed through the exit turnstiles and her brother had
not been among them.
It was all on her face—another eighteen hours of
agony until the alternate meet. And perhaps there would
be no second meeting. Joseph might not have gotten out
at all.
She was sitting, still in her huge coat, her head in her
hands, when Carter came in. Beside her, the fire they
had banked before leaving still smoldered. She didn't
look up.
Carter set the bag of groceries he had purchased
before leaving Helsinki on a table, and silently stoked
the fire. When it was blazing and its heat had permeated
the small room, he took a bottle of Finnish vodka from
the bag, found two glasses, and joined her.
"Here—there's nothing we can do now until tomor-
row."
Nina took it and drank. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
Carter couldn't help wondering what she would do if
her brother didn't make it. She had walked out on the
ballet world, literally disappeared, so that avenue was



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THE ANDROPOV FILE
49
no longer open to her. That would also, more than
likely, kill the Cavetti alias she had been using.
Suddenly Carter didn't want to think about it.
"Hungry?"
She shrugged.
"We're both hungry," he said, and unpacked the
food he had bought.
He managed a poor imitation of a smörgasbård, and
laid out slices Of thick-crusted Finnish bread heavy with
sweet butter.
They ate silently, both of them doing it more out of
necessity than real hunger. When they finished, they
quickly did the dishes and then, over more vodka, Nina
traced the route her brother would be taking on a map.
"If he did have to leave the train, he told me he would
go far north, here, to Kouvola. If anyone chased him,
he was sure he could get rid of them in the heavy forests
and over the lakes."
Carter nodded. ' 'Makes sense. This time of year the
lakes will be frozen. He could make good time, even
overland. "
"From Kouvola he would take a bus to Lahti, after
having bought a full-fare ticket to Helsinki. There he
would leave the bus and head south, overland again,
here, to Borga
She kept talking, getting more animated by the sec-
ond. It was as if, by tracing the route on the map, Nina
could actually see her brother doing it, heading for
safety.
By the time she finished, she was actually excited.
"And where do we make contact? "
"There is a funeral home just outside Borga. across
the lake. Joseph knows the owner well. The man has
agreed to hide him until we arrive."
"Okay," Carter said, stretching, "let's get some
sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. You can




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sleep. Tomorrow IS gorng to a ong
NICK CARTER
have the bed. I'll take the sofa."
'41 feel awful," she sighed. ' 'If you don't mind, I'm
going to take a bath."
She heated water while Carter made up the sofa. He
heard her pour the water as he slipped out of his clothes
and beneath the heavy down quilt. To his surprise, when
he rolled over, Nina was removing her clothes without
dimming the lantern or setting up the screen in front of
the old-fashioned tub.
There was no shyness; neither was there any overt
boldness.
Carter started to roll away as the sweater and jeans
came off, and he felt a rising knot of expectation in his
throat.
Suddenly she flashed him one quick look and a brief
smile.
The hell with it, he thought, and gave himself up to
the deliberate enjoyment of her body.
His impression of her had always been that of a child-
woman. Nearly nude, that impression went out the win-
dow. She was small, but all woman.
Unselfconsciously and with no waste of time, Nina
bent forward slightly to unhook her bra and free her
breasts. Then she hooked her thumbs in her panties to
shed them.
She braced a graceful hand and arm against the edge
and put one foot into the tub. testing the water. From
across the room, Carter could smell the woman-fra-
grance that comes from health and heat and activity.
The soap became perfume fading into the natural
fragrance of a woman's skin.
When she stood and reached for a towel, Carter could
take no more. He rolled over into the sofa and clamped
his eyes shut.
A few moments later, the light was extinguished and
he heard her crawl into bed.
Then, ' 'Nick?"



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he heard her craw Into bed.
Then, ' 'Nick?"
THE ANDROPOV FILE
51
"Yeah?" His voice sounded as though it had come
from the bottom of a barrel.
"Do you mean to tell me that you're really going to
sleep on that lumpy sofa?"
"Why you ..
He was off the sofa and into the bed in two leaps, the
last of his own words cut off by her laugh.
They came into each other's arms, and their naked
flesh trembled from the contact. Nina was warm and
sofa and her hard nipples were like tiny buttons against
his chest. They kissed passionately, their tongues dart-
ing against one another's.
Carter broke the kiss and looked down at her. "Are
you drunk or do you really know what you're doing?"
"Both," she moaned. '41 wanted to do this two years
ago."
He felt her body lift to his. He caressed her naked,
trembling thighs as his hot mouth came down once more
in search of hers. As his hand roamed, she struggled
harder and harder toward his insistent caresses.
He felt her go limp. The warmth of her lips seemed
to sear his as excitement lurched through his body.
Trapped between his hands and his kissing mouth, she
moaned with real desire.
She lay, quivering, on her back as his lips and tongue
teased her tingling flesh. Her head began to roll from
side to side as his kisses found her distended nipples. He
bent over the soft mounds, gently loving them with his
mouth. He kissed and licked them, moving from tip to
tip. Her lips were half parted. The look in her eyes
clearly registered her low boiling point.
He stroked and cupped the pale globes, and she felt
his warm hardness pressing against her thigh as he
kissed her.
His hands slid down her belly. The weight of his
strong body kept her thighs apart as he probed with gen-
tle fingers. Nina rotated her hips rhythmically in re-




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e wergh o IS
His han s s '
own er e y.
strong body kept her thighs apart as he probed with gen-
tle fingers. Nina rotated her hips rhythmically in re-
52
NICK CARTER
sponse to his expert touch.
"Enough, enough!" she cried at last.
"What?"
g 'I said, enough."
"Enough?" he chuckled. C 'After you did that number
on me by the tub?"
Her eyes opened and she smiled up at him. "It
worked, didn't it?"
He moved upward between her parted thighs and
entered her easily.
She cried out, but it soon faded into a faint, mewling
sound. Her face contorted in passion, and a light film of
perspiration coated her forehead as her hair swung back
and forth across her face.
Theie was a momentary pause, and then violence.
A howl erupted from her throat. But it was not a
sound of anger or pain, more like one of victory . a
pleasant victory over whatever devils had beleaguered
her these past few hours.
As Carter made his own way toward fulfillment, Nina
twitched and lurched. drawing from their union every
ounce of pleasure that was in it. and at the same time in-
flaming his body almost beyond endurance.
Then he was at the crest, the moment all the nerves in
his body concentrated their forces and brought them
together between his legs.
With a throaty growl, he exploded.
And then he exploded again.
' 'My God," he breathed heavily, releasing her and
falling breathless beside her.
They lay silent for several moments, and then his
hand sneaked out to caress her. She lifted it and placed
it back on his own chest.
"What's the matter?"
"Tomorrow's a rough day, remember?" she said
lightly, and curled into his arm.



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"Tomorrow's a rough day, remember?"
lightly, and curled into his arm.
FIVE
she said
The morning sun of Paris was warm, but a brisk
breeze stirred the papers in the gutter. Less than ten
short blocks away, the bells of Notre Dame called the
faithful to early mass.
In front of the small Left Bank pension stood a black,
late-model Ford Cortina sedan. It had been rented the
previous evening by Gregor Leventov. Because of the
necessity of time, he had rented the car with cover
papers that had been issued him years before, to be used
when operating abroad.
That had been his mistake, using a cover that they
knew about.
That was how they had located him.
Major Anya Chevola had smelled out the plot by put-
ting hundreds Of small pieces together: a random report
by a waiter at the Georgian restaurant where Shalin and
53




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ting hundreds Of small pieces together: a random report
by a waiter at the Georgian restaurant where Shalin and
54
53
NICK CARTER
Leventov had lunched together that day; the travel
reports of both of their chauffeurs; the interrogation of
everyone connected with them for the last two years.
That interrogation had uncovered the third plotter:
Nikolai Gusenko, head of the KGB station in Madrid.
Major Chevola had acted fast when she learned from
a routine GRU report from Khodinsk that Leventov had
taken a transport plane from Moscow to Paris.
She had sent a crack, four-man team to Madrid and
had come to Paris herself.
Her orders before leaving Moscow were clear: "It is
fairly certain now that only the three of them know
about the microfilm. We must try and take them alive,
if possible. If that does not prove feasible, make sure
that what they know goes no further."
Now Major Anya Chevola stood in an alley between
two stores, watching the pension and the car. She had
been there nearly two hours and her legs were getting
numb. But she had chosen the duty because she drew
less attention than her male aide would have in the same
spot. The sun climbed and she could feel the heat of its
welcome rays on the back Of her neck.
A fat woman went by wheeling a baby carriage, her
body soft and shapeless, her stockings wrinkled and sag-
ging. She saw the attractive blond woman dressed in
chic black leather.
"Poule, "she sniffed. "Was it such a slow night that
you must foul the neighborhood at this hour of the
morning?"
"Move along, you cow," Anya Chevola hissed in
perfect French, and turned away.
She waited.
A delivery truck went by, milk cases rattling, leaving
a trail of melted ice water in its wake.
A Paris police car came slowly by, the two patrolmen
lolling in the front seat, coats unbuttoned, faces listless;
they gave Anya scarcely a glance. A young housewife




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y vases ractnng,uea
a trail of melted ice water in its wake.
A Paris police car came slowly by, the two patrolmen
lolling in the front seat, coats unbuttoned, faces listless;
they gave Anya scarcely a glance. A young housewife
THE ANDROPOV FILE
55
walked by the alley, her heels clicking on the pavement.
She, too, glanced at the attractive blonde. But instead of
a haughty comment, she merely smiled and shrugged.
Then the front door of the pension opened.
Anya Chevola stood rigid as Gregor Leventov shuf-
fled down the stairs. In baggy trousers, a windbreaker,
and a cloth cap, with a cigarette hanging from the side
Of his mouth, he looked like a Parisian workingman on
his day off. He could even be departing for mass. As he
stood on the curb looking up and down the street, Anya
squeezed further back into the shadows.
Leventov got into his car and roared off. A black
Citroen with two men in the front seat immediately
pulled out from a side street. The Citroen stopped just
long enough for Major Chevola to dive into the back
seat.
"Keep him in sight but be careful," she said.
"When do we take him?" oneof the men asked.
I' When we are sure he can lead us to nothing."
They crossed the Seine and drove in what seemed like
circles for a half hour.
"He's stopping."
i 'Drive past, slowly."
"lt's the offices of Iberia."
They stopped a block away and parked.
"Yevgeny, does he know you?" Anya asked the dark-
haired giant in the front passenger seat.
"No, we have never met."
"Then go into the office and try to find out what he is
doing. But be careful. Don't spook him into running.
An incident on the open street we can do without.
The man hopped out and sprinted toward the airline
offices. Anya walked down the block and crossed the
street. There was a small café right across from the
Iberia offices, and it was just opening. She went inside,
sat down at a table near the window, and ordered cof-
fee.
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NICK CARTER




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NICK CARTER
Ten minutes later, Yevgeny came out and headed
toward the Citroen. Leventov was practically right
behind him, heading toward his own car. They did the
same routine, and two blocks later fell in behind him.
"Why did he go to Iberia?" Anya asked.
"He verified an air delivery in Madrid this morning.
Some kind of commercial cargo."
'SDamn," Anya hissed from the back seat. "Let's
hope they have located Gusenko."
"He's heading back to the pension. "
"Take the antidote pills now," the woman said. "If it
is necessary, we will use only the gas pistols."
Ali three popped pills into their mouths.
Leventov pulled up in front of the pension and went
inside. Anya Chevola was out of the car in a flash,
already running.
"One of you come behind me—the other find the rear
entrance!"
A teen-age girl was behind the desk reading a maga-
zine. Otherwise the small lobby was empty. When the
girl's eyes stayed on the magazine, Anya walked right
past her to the stairs.
She paused just long enough on the first landing to
hear footsteps climbing above her. Once past the first
floor, she sprinted. She caught up with Leventov on the
fourth floor just as he was opening his door.
He turned, fast. His short, awkward appearance was
deceiving. He was lithe and quick.
But before he had swung halfway around, Anya was
on him. She grabbed him by the back of his collar and
yanked the windbreaker down hard. At the same time,
she pushed the muzzle of the gas pistol in his face.
"You know what this is, Comrade Gregor Leventov.
Inside, quietly!"
She could hear Yevgeny's tread behind her. Leventov
seemed to go limp. He moved into the room. The sec-
ond agent arrived at the door.
THE ANDROPOV FILE
57
"Stay outside and watch," Anya hissed, then closed
the door, whirling on Leventov. "What did you send to
Madrid?"




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she pushed the muzzle of the gas pistol in his face.
"You know what this is, Comrade Gregor Leventov.
Inside, quietly!"
She could hear Yevgeny's tread behind her. Leventov
seemed to go limp. He moved into the room. The sec-
ond agent arrived at the door.
THE ANDROPOV FILE
57
"Stay outside and watch," Anya hissed, then closed
the door, whirling on Leventov. "What did you send to
Madrid?"
"l don't know what you're talking about."
Yevgeny hit him, open-handed, along the side of the
head, his palm directly over the ear.
Leventov growled in pain and staggered across the
room. Near the bed he tripped.
Too late they saw what he was doing. From beneath
the pillow he pulled a silenced Stechkin, and fired as he
rolled to his back.
Anya Chevola had no choice. She stepped forward
and fired the gas pistol directly into Leventov's face.
The gas was instantly effective, but, just in case, she
kicked the Stechkin from his grasp.
Behind her, Yevgeny groaned.
"Were you hit?" she asked over her shoulder, stoop-
ing to strip all identification from Leventov's body and
slipping the Stechkin into her coat pocket.
'*Yes, my arm, but it's not bleeding badly. What is
that?" he asked, moving to her side and staring down at
the piece of paper in her hand.
"His receipt from Iberia Airlines. He shipped a cas-
ket. Damn! They must get Gusenko before he disposes
of it!"
Nikolai Gusenko entered the small café and took a
table far enough from the window so he couldn't be
seen from the outside. But he could see all of the street,
as well as the entrance to the hotel across the street.
The café reeked of frying food. Two tables away a
peasant woman sat munching bread and eating hard
fried eggs so tiny each was a single mouthful.
Watching her, it occurred to Gusenko that he hadn't
eaten in over twenty hours.
First there had been the flight from Paris. Then the
transfer of the casket to the old truck. He himself had




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ea en in over
First there had been the flight from Paris. Then the
transfer of the casket to the old truck. He himself had
58
NICK CARTER
driven the truck out of Madrid into the Guadarrama
Mountains to Avila. There, in a tiny village, he had
passed the body over to a grieving trio: the mother and
father, and a heartbroken fiancé, the local school-
teacher, a young man Angelina Galadin had known
since childhood. The fiancé had taken the news of
Angelina's death very badly, and was shocked that
suicide had been listed by the Soviet authorities as the
cause of death. The Russians must be crazy, he thought:
why couldn't they have said it was just a terrible acci-
dent with a speeding automobile?
For the first fifteen minutes of their meeting Gusenko
thought that he might have to fight off the young man.
who was so distraught as to be almost violent when he
saw the casket. He couldn't believe that he'd lost
Angelina forever. He thought back to that wonderful,
passion-filled long weekend they had spent in Paris only
a few months before. She would have been home soon
for good ... they were to be married ... and now ...
On and on he went, his anguish heart-rending, the old
couple standing numb behind him.
At last Gusenko took the weeping young man aside,
had him sign a receipt, and offered his condolences.
The casket was transferred to, of all things, a horse-
drawn cart, and Gusenko watched them wind their way
into the rocky hills. They would return to their tiny
village and bury her and mourn together.
Gusenko had then driven to the train station in the
walled city of Avila, where he abandoned the truck. It
had been purchased weeks before in Madrid, using a fic-
titious name so it could never be traced.
From Avila he had trained north to Segovia. In
Segovia he had called the hotel, and got his first shock.
She had not checked in.
She had not wanted to go to France on holiday in the
first place. Had she just not come? Surely not. Surely
she would have left him a message.
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59
Carmela Savona had been Gusenko's mistress for two





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THE ANDROPOV FILE
59
Carmela Savona had been Gusenko's mistress for two
years, nearly all the time he had been posted in Spain. It
was she who carried the false passports and other papers
that would allow them to disappear for days, even
weeks, if necessary, until the turbulence in Moscow set-
tied down and Gusenko could come out of hiding.
And she had the car. He had no means of getting a car
here in Segovia.
Where was the bitch?
A waiter set a stained menu in front of Gusenko and
rubbed his greasy hands on an already filthy apron. The
Russian was again reminded that for many hours he had
taken no food.
But food was not what he needed.
"You have vodka?"
"Si, senor. "
"Bring me vodka."
The drink bucked him up a little. But not much.
Again he phoned the hotel. "No, sehor, I am sorry.
But we have no Senorita Savona registered."
He ordered another drink, and another. He sat over
the table, a huge man, hunched and morose, liquor and
lack of sleep giving an added fierceness to his deep-set
eyes, making him look older than his thirty-odd years.
He sat drinking for two more hours, until he finally
admitted to himself that Carmela Savona was not com-
ing.
He would have to run by himself. He had his own
passport and papers, but he dared not use them to leave
the country. He would have to hide in Spain.
Where? he asked his vodka-fogged mind.
Bilbao. He had spent a week there last year by the
seashore. He had money, enough to buy himself
anonymity for a few days. He hoped that would be long
enough.
He threw bills on the table to pay for the vodka, and
NICK CARTER
walked into the sunlight. Buses, carts, and small trucks
buzzed around him like angry hornets, their motors
roaring, the constant blare of their horns adding to the
noisy bustle.
It was market day, and chaos.



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seashore. He had money, enough to buy himself
anonymity for a few days. He hoped that would be long
enough.
He threw bills on the table to pay for the vodka, and
NICK CARTER
walked into the sunlight. Buses, carts, and small trucks
buzzed around him like angry hornets, their motors
roaring, the constant blare of their horns adding to the
noisy bustle.
It was market day, and chaos.
Gusenko remembered seeing the sign for the central
bus terminus, and headed that way.
He was just turning off the Calle Vallejo into the
Plaza San Esteban, when he saw the car rock to a halt a
block in front of him. It was long and sleek. with its
black paint shining in the sunlight.
There were tinted side and rear windows; one could
see out but not in. In the front seat, two men sat watch-
ing him.
They were in the mountains. It was winter, with a
chilling wind rushing through the plaza. But beneath his
heavy coat, his sweater, and the rest of his winter wear,
Gusenko could feel sweat ooze from every pore of his
big body.
He dropped to one knee and retied a shoelace. From
that position he sneaked a look behind him.
A second car, the same style and make, blocked the
entrance to the plaza.
It was then that Gusenko knew that Carmela Savona
was never coming. He had been so careful, so sure that
his KGB comrades didn't have a hint of his Spanish
liaison.
He had been wrong.
And chances were good that Carmela Savona had
paid for her lover's mistake with her life.
Gusenko stood, forcing his feet to take him past the
car. As he drew abreast, the door opened. Two men
swung directly in front of him.
"Get in the car, comrade." The man who spoke of-
fered his hand as if in greeting. It held a small pistol.
Gusenko stood, rooted, his drink-fogged mind trying
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THE ANDROPOV FILE
61
to reason an escape. From his left some women, all
wearing dark head scarves and black, worn clothing,
stepped from the sidewalk. All of them carried large
shopping baskets. They had already seen the confronta-
tion and their eyes were bright with anticipation.
Gusenko had been in Spain long enough to know the
reason for their anticipation. He was dressed as their
men would be dressed, in the heavy woolens and worn,
manure-stained boots of a Spanish workingman.
He moved toward them, shouting over his shoulder at
the two by the car, ' 'Why can't the Guardia leave me
alone? What do you want with me? I am a simple man. I
have done nothing. Why do the police hound me?"
The two bulky KGB agents moved toward him.
Behind them, across the street, Gusenko saw a bus
preparing to leave, maneuvering out into traffic.
Thirty yards and he would be safe. A hundred street
peddlers lined the plaza with their stands, reducing traf-
fic to a crawl except for the monstrous buses. By the
time the cars could turn around and escape the plaza, he
would be dropping off the bus a mile away.
He was close enough to the women to smell their
sweat and cheap scent.
"Go on, senor, run!" one of the women suddenly
shrilled.
The larger of the KGB men dived for Gusenko. The
woman, shrieking, threw her basket between his legs, ef-
fectively tripping him.
Gusenko ran, butting his shoulder into the second
man, knocking him out Of the way.
The bus was roaring away now, kicking up a dust
cloud from its heavy tires. It was one of those Old-
fashioned buses still used in Spain, with an open rear
door so that it barely had to stop to pick up passengers
on the narrow mountain roads. It just slowed and the
people swung aboard.
62
NICK CARTER
But the door was on the other side.
Gusenko slowed. The rear of the bus passed him and
he sped up.










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O KlcnngNp•u-u
cloud from its heavy tires. It was one of those Old-
fashioned buses still used in Spain, with an open rear
door so that it barely had to stop to pick up passengers
on the narrow mountain roads. It just slowed and the
people swung aboard.
62
NICK CARTER
But the door was on the other side.
Gusenko slowed. The rear of the bus passed him and
he sped up.
He was going to make it.
He came around the bus, sweat pouring into his eyes.
There was a woman's scream.
Another bus was barreling into the square on the
other side.
Gusenko himself screamed. He was inches in front of
the huge front bumper and the driver couldn't even see
him.
The world burst into flaming pain. He felt himself
being carried around and around as the big tires
mangled his body.
The sun was spinning. He no longer had size or shape.
He was nothing, with the sound of screaming brakes
and roaring engines in his ears. _
But through it all, one last thought rose in his mind:
This was it, the sick thing that all men dread.
And, after all, it became such a small thing to die.











SIX
Light streamed into the room through the cracks
around the thin, cheap curtains. Yawning, Carter sat up
and checked his watch on the night table.
Nine o'clock. More than enough time to get to Borga
and rent the car.
He lit a cigarette and studied the body sprawled
beside him. The quilt had slipped down, exposing one
pert breast. The rest of her body was twisted in such a
grotesque position that, had it been any body but a
dancer's, Carter would have thought her in pain.
He leaned over, tugged the quilt a little lower, and
tickled her flat belly. Nina moaned and pushed his hand
away. In so doing, the quilt slipped even further.
It was a nice body, all warmly pink, gently curved,
with hips strong and fatless, and lovely breasts that
didn't tilt up or down.
64
63
NICK CARTER
She sighed, still in sleep, and turned on her side, fac-
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She sighed, still in sleep, and turned on her side, fac-
ing him. Again, Carter reached forward and tickled the
breast closest to him.
She squinted one eye and said, very clearly. "I may
just punch you in the nose."
"That's not a very romantic way to start the day."
She opened both eyes and scowled at the sunlight in-
vading the room. Then her eyes grew wide, and Carter
smiled. He had the idea that she was just remembering
what had happened the night before.
He said so.
she purred, and stretched, kicking the
"Maybe,"
quilt the rest of the way off. "What time is it?"
' 'Early. "
"Then where are you going?"
' 'Borga, to rent the car."
Nina grabbed his shoulders and tugged him back to
the bed. "You said it was early."
With those words, she set about reigniting the previ-
ous night's fire.
It didn't take long.
"Car, got to get the car," Carter sighed, but his
words lacked conviction.
Their bodies met with an even greater intensity tha
the night before. Their breathing came in short gasp
until, at the climax, there was no one else in the whole
world but the two of them. with the northern sunlight
streaming through the window.
When it was over, reality set back in all too soon.
They dressed quietly and Carter headed for the door.
"I'll be back in a couple of hours. Be ready."
She nodded, and he set off around the lake.
Borga was a good-sized town, large enough that n
eyebrows were raised when an American wished to ren
a car for a two-week period. There was no problem wit
his desire to return the car in Helsinki, only a drop-of
charge.
THE ANDROPOV FILE
65
The car would actually be dropped off much farther
north, at Kauliranta, on the Swedish frontier.
He spotted them about the same time they spotted
him, just as he was coming out of the car rental office.
They were walking along the sidewalk directly opposite





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e rowsAver a se when an Americanwish o ren
a car for a two-week period. There was no problem wit
his desire to return the car in Helsinki, only a drop-of
charge.
THE ANDROPOV FILE
65
The car would actually be dropped off much farther
north, at Kauliranta, on the Swedish frontier.
He spotted them about the same time they spotted
him, just as he was coming out of the car rental office.
They were walking along the sidewalk directly opposite
him, two of them, wearing jeans the same as everybody
else.
But their shirts were different. Nearly every man
Carter had met that day wore checked, heavy hunting
shirts. It was that kind of an area. Under their coats,
these two wore white dress shirts.
For the next half hour, Carter edged in and out of
stores. They followed his direction for only a short time
and then disappeared.
Perhaps it was just his imagination, he thought, and
retraced his steps back to the car.
He took a different road around the lake, and back-
tracked several times.
No sign of them.
The Killmaster put it down to his usual paranoia
about detection on a delicate mission, and drove to the
cabin. By the time he had arrived, it was midafternoon
and the long winter night had already descended.
Nina was drinking coffee and pacing the tiny cabin
like a caged lioness.
"Anything outside while I was gone?"
"What do you mean?"
"Anybody been around?"
"NO. At least I didn't see anyone. Why?"
"Nothing." Carter said, bending to extinguish the
fire.
The funeral home was on the lake about four miles
from the center of Borga. There was a high ledge sur-
rounding a good part of the grounds. The main building
was set well back. It was sprawling and large. Other
smaller buildings squatted in deeper shadow.
NICK CARTER




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Carter parked in the wide turnaround in front of the
building and killed the engine. "If he isn't here ?"
'S We come back tomorrow. And if not then, the day
after," Nina replied, a solid set to her chin.
"Okay," Carter said with a shrug. "Let's go."
They approached the wide doorway. There was an
aura of stillness about the place, only the low hum of
some kind of machine from one of the outbuildings and
the chirping of a bird in the vacuumlike silence.
There was a woman at the desk just inside the door,
fortyish, stern, with lips turned downward in practiced
mourning. She said nothing, merely nodded as they ap-
proached the desk.
Nina did the talking. ' 'We are the Swensons, here for
the viewing of my uncle. "
A little fire came into the woman's eyes. Wordlessly,
she directed them down a long hall and punched the but-
ton of an intercom on her desk.
Nina's grip on Carter's arm was like a vise. "He's
here, Nick! He's here!"
"Just how sure is Joseph of these people?"
"Very sure. Two of their relatives died in the
Caucasus some time ago. Joseph was instrumental in
cutting a lot of red tape so the bodies could be returned.
They were very grateful. "
They entered a large sitting room. Another woman
sat at the far end. She was dressed in a simple but ele-
gant black dress and was an amazingly beautiful
woman, with dark red lips and warm brown eyes. As
they approached, she uncrossed her legs and stood.
"I am Helga Nordstrom. This way, please."
They went down another long hall, past viewing
rooms to a pair of stout, wooden doors.
' 'The room is completely private. You have fifteen
minutes, twenty at the most."
They entered and the door closed behind them. A
flower-bedecked casket was on a raised dais in the
center of the room. One half of the lid was open and the
THE ANDROPOV FILE
corpse of an old man was visible to the waist.
67
Carter felt a tremor go through Nina as she looked at
the body. and then another as a pair of drapes parted




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uncr•ong— nau;•-
rooms to a pair of stout, wooden doors.
' 'The room is completely private. You have fifteen
minutes, twenty at the most."
They entered and the door closed behind them. A
flower-bedecked casket was on a raised dais in the
center of the room. One half of the lid was open and the
THE ANDROPOV FILE
corpse of an old man was visible to the waist.
67
Carter felt a tremor go through Nina as she looked at
the body. and then another as a pair of drapes parted
and a man stepped into the room.
"Joseph .. ."
She was across the room and into her brother's arms
like a shot. After lots of hugs and kisses and tears, she
broke free and introduced Carter.
"Thank you so very much for helping me," Kadin.
Skov said, pressing Carter's outstretched hand between
his own.
The Kilimaster shrugged it off. He wanted very much
to question Nina's brother about the details of his
escape, as well as the KGB connection that led up to it,
but it didn't look like there would be time.
' 'The woman said twenty minutes. What happens
then?"
Kadinskov drew a crudely drawn map from his
pocket. "He' '—he nodded toward the casket—"is
being taken to the church of Hattula . . . here. About
halfway, we will enter these woods. There is a logging
camp, here, about a mile off the main road. Nord-
strom's driver will drop me there. "
' 'And that's where we pick you up?" Carter asked.
$ 'Yes. There is a sign on the main road for the logging
camp. You can't miss it."
Carter thought for a moment. "Why can't you just
leave with us from here?"
"I don't want to involve the Nordstroms any further.
Just in case you have been followed, or they somehow
may have spotted me, I want to keep these people in the
clear. What they have already done is very dangerous
for them."
Carter nodded. "One more thing. Why did you take
the alternate plan, leave the train?"
' 'Jt was just as I feared. The KGB never lives up to
their promises."
Tersely, he reiterated what he had done in Moscow




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' 'Jt was just as I feared. The KGB never lives up to
their promises."
Tersely, he reiterated what he had done in Moscow
68
NICK CARTER
for Leventov, and the subsequent try for him on the
"What did you sew into the woman's belly?"
a 'A small package. I donst know what •as in it."
' 'The woman's name?"
don't know that. either. I do know that the woman
was Spanish. and the body was being transported to
Madrid. back to her family for burial."
Not much to go on, the Killmaster thought. but he
stored the details in his memory bank anyway. in case
Kadinskov's information might one day prove useful.
The door opened and Helga Nordstrom's beautiful
head popped through. • 'It is time. you must go."
It was pitch-black. not a light for miles around. and
the moon was long gone under heavy. flying clouds.
Beside him, Nina held the crude map in the light of the
dash.
"Fork ahead. " Carter said.
"Yes," she replied. "Take the center one. That's the
road that Will take us all the way through the forest."
The road turned to gravel just after they entered the
woods. Here and there were smaller private roads.
Through the blackness Carter could make out names
painted on rustic signs. and a summer eot-
tage tucked away in the trees beside a dark lake.
"It should be five miles exactly from here," Nina
said. "on the right. Check the odometer."
"Got it,' • Carter said. nodding.
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a pair
Of headlights appeared behind them. coming fast. Until
now they had only seen a few cars on the lonely stretch
of highway. and all of them had been going the other
way, toward Helsinki.
Carter was about to slow and let the car pass. when
one of the headlights veered to his left and came on like
a shot.
Motorcycle. he thought. and then it flew by them and
THE ANDROPOV HLE
disappeared around the next curve.
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THE ANDROPOV HLE
disappeared around the next curve.
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Carter sped up and the second motorcycle dropped
back. He slowed, but still the light behind him faded.
"What's wrong?" Nina asked, noting the frown on
his forehead.
"Motorcycles."
' 'What about them?"
"Why did a pair of them come up on us and then split
Her eyes grew wide in the dashboard lights. "Us?"
Carter shrugged. ' 'We'll see."
The road climbed steadily and wound like a moving
snake. About two miles farther on, he looked down and
to his left. Again there were two lights.
No way, he thought, for the first one to get back by
him. There were now three of them.
Then he saw the bobbing glow of a taillight in the
distance ahead.
They were pacing him and Nina.
the Sign!
"There it is .
Carter had already seen it. When they drew abreast of
it. he killed his lights and gunned the engine. The car
flew ahead and Nina started shouting.
"You passed it! Back there. the sign for the logging
"I know. Trust me."
Jt didn't take a genius to figure it out. He had been
tagged right from the beginning—tagged and then
trailed all the way across Europe. They had probably
used teams, making them almost impossible for Carter
to spot.
It had already gotten through to Nina. "The motor-
cycles?"
Carter nodded. "Yeah. most likely a crack assassina-
tion team. They've probably already guessed that we're
down to the wire ... somewhere tomght we're meeting
your brother."
Since the sign, they had already
70
NICK CARTER
passed another road. and Carter could see a break in the
trees ahead indicating a third. They were all on the
right, and the entrances were laid over with undisturbed
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Carter nodded. "Yeah. most likely a crack assassina-
tion team. They've probably already guessed that we're
down to the wire ... somewhere tomght we're meeting
your brother."
Since the sign, they had already
70
NICK CARTER
passed another road. and Carter could see a break in the
trees ahead indicating a third. They were all on the
right, and the entrances were laid over with undisturbed
snow.
It wouldn't be difficult for the bad guys to figure out
which one they took.
Carter reached the road, braked. and spun the car
off. He went about twenty yards, stopped, and shifted
into reverse to wait.
It didn't take long. He could hear the roar of their
engines and then. when they spotted the tracks. he could
hear them throttling down.
"What are you going to do?" Nina whispered.
"Make 'em guess .
. at first," Carter said. "And
then make 'em play on my turf. "
The engines died. Carter did a one-thousand count to
ten, and dropped the clutch.
The little car took off like a jackrabbit backward. The
instant the rear wheels hit the road, he spun the wheel
and hit the lights.
One of them was off his bike. slinging a machine
pistol over his shoulder. The econd was still sitting on
his machine, his helmet off. a walkie-talkie up to his
mouth.
In the glare of the car's lights, Carter and Nina could
both recognize the face.
"Henri Duval!" Nina gasped. "From Milan .
the
ballet!"
"Duval my ass." Carter growled. shifting into first.
"I'll bet he speaks perfect Russian."
The car lurched ahead. Both men dived for the trees.
Carter meant to cream both machines. At the last sec-
ond he lost traction in the snow and only managed to get
one.
"That should hold them for a little bit, until their
buddy catches up." he hissed.
They must have broken Nina's cover some time ago.
THE ANDROPOV FILE
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ey must ave broken Nina's cover some time ago.
THE ANDROPOV FILE
71
en, when they decided to use Joseph for one of their
games, they sent Duval/Whoever in to spot Nina and
make sure they got Joseph if he managed to slip them.
Carter told Nina as much and, white-faced, she
nodded in agreement.
Around the curve, he kept his lights on, searching for
the next road. When they hit it, he turned in and very
carefully reversed back out in the same tracks.
It was nearly a mile further to the logging camp road.
Carter hit it full tilt, and charged up it under an um-
brella of tall, leafless trees. One hundred, two hundred,
three hundred yards of narrow, winding road . and
nothing.
"Come on, come on!" he hissed. "Where the
hell ..
And then they burst into a huge clearing and Carter
began snapping the lights off and on.
Except for a couple of big logging trucks and a
bulldozer, the place looked abandoned and ghostly.
There were several buildings leaning as if they would
wobble and fall over in the next big storm.
In less than two minutes Carter had crisscrossed and
spun the car around the clearing several times, making a
mess of his own tracks.
Then he spun the car around and backed it under a
wooden overhead. He killed the lights and engine, and
jumped out. Nina was right behind him, calling to her
brother.
"Up here!"
They looked. He was half in, half out of a second-
story window, a handgun glinting at the end of both
arms.
"We're blown!" Carter shouted. ' 'Get down here!"
Lithely, Kadinskov dropped to the ground and ran to
•oin them. "What is it?"
"They had Nina fingered, probably trailed us all the
way from Milan. Chances are their job was to take you
72
NICK CARTER
out if their agent on the train missed. ' '
"How many?"
"Three, on motorcycles. Nina. you drive. Joseph, in




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arms.
"We're blown!" Carter shouted. ' 'Get down here!"
Lithely, Kadinskov dropped to the ground and ran to
•oin them. "What is it?"
"They had Nina fingered, probably trailed us all the
way from Milan. Chances are their job was to take you
72
NICK CARTER
out if their agent on the train missed. ' '
"How many?"
"Three, on motorcycles. Nina. you drive. Joseph, in
the passenger seat."
' 'What are you going to do?" Nina asked, her
brother already climbing into the car.
"Lead them away from the road."
"No, Nick, you've got to come with us!" she cried.
He ignored her. "You've got papers to get you to
Italy. You know where to pick up new papers there. I'll
buy you time here."
Suddenly she was against him, her lips pressed to his.
"Thank you, Nick."
He practically shoved her into the driver's seat.
"Don't start the engine until you hear the first shot.
When you do, go like hell, hit the road, and don't look
back. Joseph, take good care of her."
"I will. And ... thank you."
Carter turned and ran down the lane as fast as his legs
would carry him, unholstering Wilhelmina.
A hundred yards short of the road he heard the
engines. At fifty he heard them cut off, and hit the trees.
Ten yards in, he stopped and dropped into a crouch.
It could have been an hour. Actually, it was about
two minutes.
The snow was about a foot deep with a hard crust on
top. Jt was impossible for them to be quiet. They were
easy to spot by sound. One man was leading point, near
the lane, on Carter's side. The other two were about
twenty yards behind him, one on each side of the road.
Carter narrowed his eyes, straining them in the dark-
ness.
And then he saw him, his helmet discarded, coming
upright, the muzzle of his machine pistol moving from
side to side.
Carter was on one knee, motionless, the Luger
straight out from his shoulder in both hands.




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Carter was on one knee, motionless, the Luger
straight out from his shoulder in both hands.
THE ANDROPOV FILE
73
He waited until the man was less than ten yards from
him, and fired twice.
All three machine pistols barked at the same time, one
in the air as the dying man fell, and the other two in
Carter's direction.
But he was already flat on the ground, his eyes dart-
ing around a rotten log.
They were moving as they fired, trying to outflank
him.
Then the firing stopped and all of them, hunter and
hunted alike, heard the car roaring down the lane.
The two men reacted fast. One of them fired short
bursts in Carter's direction to hold him down while the
other sprinted back toward the road to head off the car.
Carter could not see either of them, nor could he hear
them now over the chaos. He did hear the car hit high
gear and then hurtle around the last bend and straighten
out for its run to the road.
Both men forgot about Carter now and tried to find
the range on the car.
Then Nina showed her guts. She turned on the head-
lights. They illuminated one of the men dead center in
the road. He was just bringing up his machine pistol
when Carter emptied the rest of Wilhelmina's clip into
him.
Five seconds later Nina hit him, sending his lifeless
body into the trees. The car went on, veered into the
road, rocked dangerously, and was gone.
Across the lane, Carter could hear the last man run-
ning for the road himself. The Killmaster guessed he
was heading for the place where they had hidden the
motorcycles.
Jamming a fresh clip into the butt of the Luger,
Carter darted through the trees, pretty sure that the
third man had figured out the whole scam.
When he heard the man kick the machine to life, he
broke from the trees and ran full out. He was certain his
74
NICK CARTER
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NICK CARTER
prey would be intent on the car now, and could care less
about who the shooter in the trees had been or where he
was.
The Killmaster hit the end of the lane just as the bike
roared out of the trees to his left. He got off two shots,
both wild, and dived out of the way.
A stump just below the surface of the snow hit the
barrel of the Luger, knocking it from his grasp. He
rolled to the side just as the bike swung around and
came for him.
It was Duval, and the machine pistol was slung over
his shoulder. At that point, Duval wasn't interested in
Carter. He wanted the occupants of the car that was
long gone down the road.
Carter got to his feet just as the machine got to him.
He treated the handlebars as if they were the horns of a
charging bull and went right over the top of them,
managing to get his arms around Duval's head and his
shoulder in the man's face.
And that's the way they sailed. crazily, down the
road, before the front wheel hit a slick spot and the bike
went over.
Carter went to the side, sliding into the snow on his
chest. Duval managed to get his leg from beneath the
skidding machine and roll free. He was just unslinging
the machine pistol when Carter hit him at the knees in a
flying block. With a howl of pain, Duval went down
and the gun went sliding across the road to disappear in
a snowbank.
They were both up and at each other at once. Carter
sidestepped, but Duval countered, getting his arms
around the Killmaster's middle.
The intent was obvious. If he could get his hands high
enough and keep his body low, he could snap Carter's
spine like a twig.
Around and around they danced, suddenly tripping
over the still-running motorcycle lying in the middle of
the road on its side. Carter managed to keep his balance
THE ANDROPOV FILE
75
as the other man rolled free. On the way down, Carter
brought his knee up into Duval's face.
It didn't put him out, but it made him good and
fuzzy.
Thev were on 0DDosite sides of the purring motor-





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enough and keep his body low, he could snap Carter's
spine like a twig.
Around and around they danced, suddenly tripping
over the still-running motorcycle lying in the middle of
the road on its side. Carter managed to keep his balance
THE ANDROPOV FILE
75
as the other man rolled free. On the way down, Carter
brought his knee up into Duval's face.
It didn't put him out, but it made him good and
fuzzy.
They were on opposite sides of the purring motor-
cycle. Carter was on his knees, waiting. When Duval
started coming for him again, Carter reached out and
locked his fingers behind the other man's neck. Then he
pulled down, jamming Duval's face into the red-hot
muffler.
His sudden screams of pain filled the night. Carter
held him against the muffler with the weight of his body
until he was sure the man was mad with pain.
Then he released him and waited.
When Duval struggled to his feet, still screaming,
Carter brought his right hand up to the man's mangled
throat. He found the Adam's apple with his fingers, and
applied all his strength.
Carter felt the throat give inward, and when the
screams of pain ebbed to a hoarse death rattle, he
dropped him.
He took a full five minutes to get his breath and check
his own injuries. Then he dragged the body into the
trees.
The motorcycle, on its wheels again, was drivable. He
put it on the kickstand and used the headlight to find his
Luger.
One last check for debris and he was riding south
toward Helsinki.
An hour later, at the main highway, he paused before
turning south. His eyes flickered to the north.
They would be in Kauliranta dumping the car at
about the same time he got to Helsinki. And about the
time he got back to Washington, they would be disap-
pearing somewhere into the Italian countryside.
He hoped they would find a little peace in the rest Of
their lives.









SEVEN
Washington, D. C. , The present
When the head of AXE, David Hawk, said jump,
everyone in the agency moved, fast. Nick Carter was no
different.
The big man got right to it the moment Carter settled
into a chair.
"This tape came over from the CIA early this morn-
ing. It was taken over the phone in Mexico City last
night. Give a listen."
Hawk punched a button on a console behind his desk,
and two large speakers came to life.
"I will answer no questions. I am assuming all calls to
your office are taped. Please listen only. My name is
Sergei Anatolyevich Tilkoffi For five years, until his un-
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Sergei Anatolyevich Tilkoff. For tve years, unti hlS un-
78
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NICK CARTER
timely death, I was personal aide to General Ivor Yur-
yevich Shalin. During that time I was privy to much of
the general's work. For the past two and one half years r
have been assistant rezident, KGB, Soviet embassy.
Mexico City. Two months ago I ned the embassy and
went into hiding. I am sure that you can check all of the
above
Hawk hit another button and the tape stopped. "We
checked with our people in Moscow. He is what he
says."
Carter nodded and the tape continued.
am now in the United States. wish to defect. For
your cooperation in resettling me with funds and a new
identity, I have information very valuable to the West.
This information concerns the so-called Andropov file.
If you are interested, please give me a number in
Washington I can call in one hour. "
Hawk killed the tape. "You know the rumors?"
Carter nodded. ' 'Like our own Mr. Hoover, An-
dropov had the sword of personal information to hang
over his comrades' heads. A lot of people speculated
that the information was stolen just before or just after
he died. We've dug, they've dug, but nothing has ever
turned up."
Hawk ground his teeth over a smelly cigar and
thought out loud. "According to this Tilkoff, the files
were very real and they are still missing. He was passed
on to Washington. This is the second tape."
' 'This is Sergei Tilkoff. Are you recording?"
Another voice, faint: "Yes "
"The Andropov file was stolen by a cabal of three
men: General Shalin, Gregor Leventov, and Nikolai
Gusenko. The file is still intact. Information concerning
this file is what I intend trading for a new life. If you are
interested, I will meet with one agent and only one
agent, alone, the day after tomorrow, at a place called
THE ANDROPOV FILE
79
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"The Andropov file was stolen by a cabal of three
men: General Shalin, Gregor Leventov, and Nikolai
Gusenko. The file is still intact. Information concerning
this file is what I intend trading for a new life. If you are
interested, I will meet with one agent and only one
agent, alone, the day after tomorrow, at a place called
THE ANDROPOV FILE
79
Bayou Center. It is forty miles north of New Iberia,
Louisiana. on the Bayou Teche. Should you agree, there
is one other stipulation. I insist that the agent I meet
with be Nicholas Carter. If there is any objection to this,
I think Mr. Carter will agree if I mention the name Nina
Kovich. and the fact that Kovich was changed to Ca-
vetti.
J 'I will expect your answer in the personals column Of
The Times-Picayune the day after tomorrow. It should
read, 'Sam, all is forgiven. Come home. Lily.' "
The line was disconnected and Hawk killed the tape.
"This Nina Cavetti mean anything to you?"
' 'Yeah." Carter replied, "lots." He explained.
"You have interesting vacations," Hawk said dryly
when Carter had finished.
"l filed a report, but I doubt if it was red-nagged."
"Do you have any idea where this Nina Cavetti and
her brother are now?"
' 'Somewhere in Italy, I suppose. When we split in
Finland that night, I figured they rated some peace and
quiet. "
"Why do you suppose this guy mentioned her
name?"
Carter lit a cigarette and concentrated. "Probably to
prove to me he was on the inside. Cavetti was the name
she had with the ballet. It was her cover when she had
the plastic surgery and dropped Kovich."
Hawk leaned back in his chair and lit a fresh cigar.
"Any idea why this guy wants the meet with you as the
go-between?"
Carter shrugged. "None, unless my name was fa-
miliar to him on their computers."
Hawk mulled this over before he spoke. "Could be, I
suppose. In any event, the thinkers have decided that if
this guy is for real, it might be valuable stuff."
"l thought we decided a long time ago that the An-





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suppose. In any event, the thinkers have decided that if
this guy is for real, it might be valuable stuff."
"l thought we decided a long time ago that the An-
80
NICK CARTER
dropov file was only rumor, disinformation."
"We did, but as somebody once said, leave no
damned stone unturned. Take a shot at him, Nick.
We'll handle the newspaper thing. "
"Okay." Carter stood.
"Get an open line, twenty-four-hour number from
Bateman on your way out. If this Tilkoff has good
stuff, I'll have someone on that line for evaluation who
can tell you how much we'll pay for it. "
"Will do. " Carter headed for the door.
"And, Nick .. e"
"Yeah?"
"Check the files and familiarize yourself with those
three VIPs he mentioned on the tape."
Carter took the elevator down to Records, entered the
computer section, and found Howard Schmidt's assis-
tant. A1 Garrett.
"To what do I owe this esteemed honor?" Garrett
growled.
"Your sweet disposition. A1," Carter said, pulling a
legal pad across the desk and applying a pen to it. "Get
me everything you can on these jokers. And do me a
favor—dig deep. "
' 'Don't I always?"
Carter left Garrett's cubicle and made a beeline to the
coffee machine. Then, cup in hand, he collared one of
the pool operators.
"Julie, isn't it?"
"Yes, I'm flattered you remember."
He smiled. "Names, faces, and figures; I don't
forget. Do me a favor?"
S' Name it."
"Bring up my file. I'm looking for a specific report 1
filed in the first two weeks of February 1984."
Her fingers flew like magic over the keyboard, and
the screen in front of them came to life. Dates flew by
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faster than Carter could catch them.
"Wait too far. Back up."
81
She retreated, day by day, until Carter calied a halt.
"Hold it. That's the one. Can I have a printout?"
"You know you can't take it out of here."
know, darlin'. I'll shred it before I leave."
She printed out the report, had Carter sign for it, and
he found a vacant desk.
As he read, it all washed back over him. He'd never
tried a trace; there had been no need. And since no word
of bodies matching Joseph's and Nina's descriptions
had ever turned up in the international grapevine,
Carter had always assumed they had made it and were
living happily ever after.
He reached for the phone and dialed the in-house
operator who handled agency-to-agency high-priority
calls on a scrambler line.
Carter gave her his security clearance number and
asked for Italian CID personnel division in Rome.
It didn't take long.
"Salvatore Mandetti. What can I do for you?"
' 'I'd like current status and whereabouts on one of
your agents. Luigi Corelli."
"Can you hold?"
"Of course."
He was back the length of a cigarette later. "Corelli,
Luigi Anto-—"
"That's my man."
"Disability retirement six months ago."
"Any idea where he is now?"
"Not really. We don't keep track of personnel once
his checks are
they leave the service. Wait a minute . • •
sent to a local post office box in Livorno. Does that
help?"
"Maybe. You have a resident there?"
"No, too small, actually. can put a request through
82
NICK CARTER
to the local post office there for an address and num-
"Do that, will you? And pipe it back here when you
have it."



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IS check
ta rmnute .
they leave the service.
sent to a local post office box in Livorno. Does that
help?"
"Maybe. You have a resident there?"
"No, too small, actually. can put a request through
82
NICK CARTER
to the local post office there for an address and num-
"Do that, will you? And pipe it back here when you
have it."
"Certainly.
Carter disconnected, shredded his file, and headed
back to A1 Garrett.
"Got anything? "
Garrett handed him three printouts, and Carter
returned to the vacant desk. He read through all three of
the files quickly, then did a reread, making notes. He
was correlating the notes when the loudspeaker boomed
his name.
' 'Nick Carter, line seven .
Carter, pick up line
seven, please. "
"Yeah, Carter here."
"Hawk, Nick. The Tilkoff carts came through from
Baton Rouge. both of them."
"It figures that he'd be within driving distance of the
meeting place. "
• 'And we got a rundown on this place, Bayou
Center."
' 'It's a combination café and bait shop with cabins
and boats to rent to fishermen. A widow runs it, Loretta
Ducaine. It's bayou country, Nick, lonesome and
tricky. Watch yourself."
'61 always do," Carter chuckled. ' 'A1 got me a run-
down on Tiikoff's three names."
€ 'A lot of similarities. Shalin was about as close to
Andropov as anyone could get on the way up. At one
time or another, both Gusenko and Leventov worked
directly with or for Shalin before they climbed on up the
ladder. "
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THE ANDROPOV FILE
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I 'And all three of them died within twenty-four hours
. and within a day of Andropov's
f each other .
eath.'i
Hawk emitted a low whistle. "Now it sounds very
romising. Could this Tilkoff have gotten his hands on
he Andropov files and hidden them all this time?"
"Anything is possible. We'll know soon enough. I'll
ontact you from Louisiana."
The line went dead and Carter headed for the eleva-
ors.








EIGHT
It was Delta out of Washington into Baton Rouge,
ith a change of planes in Atlanta. The drive through
the bayou country to New Iberia was supposed to be
fifty-five minutes, but it took nearly two hours. From
here it was another hour over roads that were little
more than country lanes to Bayou Center.
It looked shabby, crushed by age and the damp of the
surrounding area, There were two old-style, tank-top
pumps in front of a gray shack that served as the sta-
tion. café, and bait shop.
A faded Coca-Cola sign over the door gave him the
name B YOU CE TER. Behind the shack were some
eatherbeaten frame cabins and a boathouse with a
float pier extending out into the river. A thermometer
y the door read 102.
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NICK CARTER
Nobody was in sight. Carter hit the battered screen
door and walked in. It was cooler inside, away from the
direct impact of the late-afternoon sun. There was a
Coke machine, a cigarette machine, a battered cash
register, and a glass-topped counter, thick with dust,
containing cans of oil, sunglasses, candy bars, and
spark plugs.
Along the back wall was a greasy grill fronted by a
six-stool counter. A scrawled sign yellow with grease
and grime declared ham hocks and beans as the special
of the day. Carter guessed the day was somewhere dur-
ing World War n.
" Anybody here? 'Y
An old man shambled from the rear through a pair of
curtains that served as a doorway. He was munching on
the remnants of a sandwich, and looked as if he'd
passed through an autopsy room and survived.
"Yeah?" He barely glanced at Carter.
"Can I get a cabin for the night?"
"Loretta, fella wants a cabin."
He passed by Carter and the screen door slammed
behind him. The curtains parted again, and an Amazon
with jet-black hair going in every direction stepped
through. She wore a second skin of jeans and a peasant-
type blouse with no bra. The blouse's scoop neckline
was cut low, and Carter could see the deep, smooth cleft
between her breasts, tanned all the way down. There
was some excitement in the way she breathed, but not
much.
"How many nights?" Her voice was low, cigarette
husky, and the twang was pure Cajun.
"What?"
"The cabin .
how many nights?
Carter shrugged. "One, maybe two. If you're not
full."
This was greeted with a healthy laugh. "Shit. Sign the
THE ANDROPOV FILE
87
"The book" was a dog-eared ledger with names and
dates scrawled indiscriminately across the pages.
Carter signed his name carefully, and the date.




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"The cabin .
how many nights?
Carter shrugged. "One, maybe two. If you're not
full."
This was greeted with a healthy laugh. "Shit. Sign the
THE ANDROPOV FILE
87
"The book" was a dog-eared ledger with names and
dates scrawled indiscriminately across the pages.
Carter signed his name carefully, and the date.
"First night in advance. Twenty bucks."
"Add a beer to that."
"Another buck, cooler's right there."
Carter dropped a dollar on top of the twenty and got
the beer. The bills went into a cigar box behind the café
counter.
He sat on a stool. "I'm supposed to meet a couple of
maybe do some fishing. Name's
other guys here . . .
Carter—anybody leave a message for me?"
"Nah, no message." Her black eyes looked him up
and down. "You don't look the fisherman type."
"I'm just learning."
Up close she looked better, with the wild darkness of
the bayous in her eyes. When she spoke she leaned fore
ward over the counter. Her mouth was wide. her lower
lip full and sensuous, and her unsupported breasts filled
the open gap in the blouse.
Carter finished the beer, keeping his eyes above her
neck. "Well, I think I'll get out of these city clothes.
Which cabin? "
She dropped a key on the counter. "Number four.
It's the one with a view, right on the river."
"Thanks," Carter said, picking up the key and head-
ing for the door.
"Yeah?"
8' You a cop?"
Carter chuckled. "Hardly." He slammed the door
behind him and headed for the cabin.
He didn't need the key: the lock didn't work.
The cabin wasn't much to look at. Sunlight sifted
through cracks in the walls and dotted a frayed hooked
rug spread over a warped pine floor. The walls were half
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rug spread over a warped pine floor. The walls were
logs chinked with plaster, and the ceiling was bare
88
NICK CARTER
rafters with last year's wasp nests in the corners.
There was no television and no air conditioner. The
bed was old, with brass pipe framing. A battered arm-
chair, a dresser with the veneer curling at the edges, and
a wooden chair were the furnishings.
Mildew touched all of it with damp fingers.
Carter checked the shower. It worked.
He stripped and took a long one using only the cold
tap. He didn't bother to towel down. It wouldn't do any
good. In the heat he would be soaking wet again in ten
minutes.
He unpacked, leaving the Luger and the stiletto in the
false bottom of the suitcase, and stretched naked on the
He dozed fitfully, and came awake at the sound of
knocking on the door. The beams of sunlight had disap-
peared from the cracks in the walls and the break in the
curtains.
He had slept longer than he intended.
Just as he rolled out of the bed, the door opened and
she stepped into the room. It took all of four seconds
for her to take in every pore and hair of his body, then
she spoke. "Telephone call for ya, long distance."
"Thanks."
He was sure she was smiling when she turned and left.
He pulled on a shirt and a pair of khakis, and walked
up to the main building. She was drinking a beer at the
counter.
"Phone's there on the wall."
"Yeah, Carter here."
"How's the bayou?" The voice was low, sultry, with
a slight southern twang. It belonged to David Hawk's
chief assistant, Ginger Bateman.
"Hot," Carter replied. "What have you got?"
"He called again."
"And?"
THE ANDROPOV FILE
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"How's the bayou? i' The voice was low, sultry, with
a slight southern twang. It belonged to David Hawk's
chief assistant, Ginger Bateman.
"Hot," Carter replied. "What have you got?"
"He called again."
"And?"
THE ANDROPOV FILE
89
"Evidently he's got someone spotting you. He knew
what time you got in and he knows your cabin num-
ber. "
"Figures," Carter said, eyeing the raven-haired
woman at the counter who was in turn eyeing him.
"About four miles above you, on Bayou Teche Road,
there's a dive called Grady's. You're supposed to be
there around ten o'clock. Park, go in, and have a few
drinks. Stay exactly an hour and then leave."
"Is that it?"
"That's it. "
"Jesus," Carter growled. "Anything else?"
"You got a request reply from Italian CID, a guy
named Mandetti."
"Yeah. on Luigi Corelli." he replied, almost dismiss-
ing it as irrelevent now.
"No forward from P.O. Box Livorno re Corelli. His
mail is picked up."
"Okay. it's really not important anyway. I'll check in
tomorrow. t'
"Right."
Carter hung up and ambled to the counter. "Thanks
for taking the call. How about a couple of burgers and
some fries?"
"Burgers, yeah. Fries, no. Fryer's broke. "
"Oh. Just the burgers then."
Carter got a beer while she cooked. When she slid the
plate toward him, she moved up onto the stool beside
him.
"You don't look like the fisherman type."
"You already told me that," Carter growled, washing
the greasy burger down with beer.
"But you do look like a cop."
"Look, lady, you also mentioned that before. And
I'll tell you again, I'm not a cop."
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00 , a y, you a so mentiönedfthatbefor .
I'll tell you again, I'm not a cop."
She shrugged and lit a cigarette. "l hope not. It's very
NICK CARTER
unhealthy in this part Of the bayou for cops."
She slid off the stool and disappeared behind the cur-
tained doorway.
Carter finished the food, cursing Tilkoff for choosing
such a place for a meet.
Car'ter took his bag from the lockless cabin and put it
in the trunk of the car when he left.
Other than a single light in one of the other cabins
and the neon in front of the place. there was no sign of
anything living. Bayou Center was closed up for the
night.
He drove north, four miles by the odometer.
Grady's wasn't hard to find. He could see the lights
and hear the thumping beat Of a country-and-western
band from a hundred yards away.
He parked the rented Pontiac in the middle of a few
dozen pickup trucks and walked through a long, blue-lit
tunnel. Through a door at the end of it he entered a
sewer, upholstered in red with a number of tables in the
rear around a small bandstand and a bar in front.
A few bearded faces turned his way as he moved to
the bar and found a stool.
While he waited, he took in the room. Standard dress
was T-shirt or checkered shirt and jeans for both men
and women. That was why his eye found Loretta Du-
caine so easily. She was at a table near the bandstand
with two of the biggest and meanest dudes Carter had
ever seen, and she had shed the jeans and
blouse. She was now wearing a red dress that looked as
if it were painted on with nothing but skin underneath.
It covered everything but hid nothing.
She returned his look with one of her own that could
kill. Carter turned back as the bartender returned.
i 'Five bucks.
Carter didn't question it. He dropped a twenty on the
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91




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bar and sipped the beer. It was warm.
91
Twenty minutes passed and the band took a break.
Carter ordered another ber.
"Make it two, Grady."
She slipped onto the stool beside him and her perfume
fanned out to fill his nostrils.
"Hi," Carter said, pushing a ten across to pay for the
two beers.
"My friends would like to meet you."
He swiveled his head around. The two giants were sit-
ting back in their chairs, about six feet of legs stretched
in front of them.
' 'No, thanks. I'm just going to have a couple of beers
and hit the sack."
She sipped the beer and started peeling the label with
a long, red nail.
"Look. sweetie, let's say you're not a cop. I'm start-
ing to believe you. But my friends there, well. they ain't
so sure. They'd like a little chat with you, just to make
sure. "
Carter started to boil. He took one more look at the
two men and then turned back to her.
"Loretta ... it is Loretta, isn't it?"
J' Yeah, it's Loretta."
"Well, look, Loretta, got business around here, yes.
And it has nothing to do with your Mississippi Mafia
over there. I don't want to talk to them and I don't want
to talk to you. I just want to have a couple of beers and
go back to bed."
"My friends won't like that."
"Fuck your friends."
That did it. She slid off the stool and went back to the
table.
Carter nursed the beer until the clock behind the bar
was standing straight up, eleven o'clock.
"Can I buy a bottle?"
92
NICK CARTER
"Sure. Twenty-five bucks."
Carter paid, and grasped the sacked bottle by the
neck as he walked back out of the tunnel.
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table.
Carter nursed the beer until the clock behind the bar
was standing straight up, eleven o'clock.
"Can I buy a bottle?"
92
NICK CARTER
"Sure. Twenty-five bucks."
Carter paid, and grasped the sacked bottle by the
neck as he walked back out of the tunnel.
They were waiting by his car, both bearded giants
leaning against the trunk and a third a few steps to the
right with a sawed-off baseball bat.
"My friends and me, we'd like to see some kind of
identification, friend."
Carter smiled. "Fuck you."
"Now, that's bein' downright unfriendly, mister. Let
me tell ya a little story. A day or so ago, a couple of
hard-lookin' fellas in suits wandered through here. They
take a boat and check out the river and all the channels,
and then they leave. Now you show up. "
As the first one talked, both of them had moved from
the car to flank Carter. The third one, with the baseball
bat, had moved around to his rear.
The second one picked up the narrative. "Now, just
about a half hour ago, one o' them suits shows up
again. He opens up your car here as sweet as you please,
puts an envelope on the front seat, and goes down the
road there like a bat outta hell. Now, my friends an' me,
we'd like to know just what you're up to."
Number One chimed back in. "Yessir, we'd sure like
to see what's in that and we'd like to take a
look at yer wallet."
It was all clear now. Whatever this crowd was doing
was against the law, and they thought Carter was the
law.
In his mind he cursed Tilkoff and his KGB mentality.
He had found an area for the meet that was desolate,
not realizing that it could be ten times more dangerous
than a crowded city where outsiders weren't noticed.
There was no way out of it. Carter didn't dare show
them his identification. It had government all over it.
One look and these boys would pop their corks.




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THE ANDROPOV FILE
93
"Gentlemen, whatever you're thinking, you're
wrong. I swear, I'm in and out of here and ..
They came for him, all three at once, the one on the
right the closest.
Carter caught him flush in the face with the bottle and
rolled away from a roundhouse right thrown from his
left. Just as Carter hit the ground the baseball bat came
down across his back. He was already rolling. so when it
hit it wasn't a killing blow.
He groaned in pain. but rolled over as he hit and
brought both boots up between the bat wielder's legs.
The connection was solid and brought forth an earsplit-
ting shriek.
Carter made it to his feet with Number One coming
on strong, his big paws opening and closing in anticipa-
tion.
One hand went for Carter's throat. It was a decoy.
When the Killmaster went for the huge first, the other
hand crashed into his ribs.
He knew something was broken or cracked even as he
smashed back into the car with Ugly all over him. Carter
nailed him two good ones in the kneecap with his right
boot and brought both fists into his face.
The man staggered back and Carter pounded his
pockets for his keys.
Too much time.
The one he'd hit with the bottle was back in the game,
coming at him like a bull.
Carter grabbed an arm at the wrist and above the
elbow. At the same time, he pivoted around, slammed
his hip into the other man's gut, and bent.
The giant's momentum plus Carter's strength should
have sent him plowing headfirst into the pickup in front
of them.
It didn't.
The guy went nowhere.
NICK CARTER
94
Carter did. He went straight up, through the air, and
first, on the truck Before he could
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his hip into the other man's gut, and bent.
The giant's momentum plus Carter's strength should
have sent him plowing headfirst into the pickup in front
of them.
It didn't.
The guy went nowhere.
94
NICK CARTER
Carter did. He went straight up, through the air, and
landed, back first, on the truck Before he could
even get his breath he had almost three hundred pounds
of beef straddling his chest.
He got his hands around Carter's throat and started
squeezing. At the same time, he started banging it up
and down.
Carter used his legs as a fulcrum to try and bounce
him off.
No good.
The second giant just flopped down over them, pin-
ning all of him to the ground. Through the film forming
over his eyes Carter spotted the third one coming up
with the baseball bat.
Swell, he thought. Three rednecks do in fifteen min-
utes what the KGB couldn 't accomplish in years.
There was nothing but red in front of his eyes now,
and his brain felt like the little ball on a roulette wheel
just before it bounces into the hole.
He was going out and he knew it.
"Jesus, Mort, don't kill him." Woman's voice.
"The hell with him." Ugly's voice.
"Dammit, knock it off ..
It was the woman's voice again, but Carter didn't
hear the end of what she said.
He started to come awake slowly, and then more
rapidly when the blur in front of him became a gray-
bearded face with glasses and tobacco-stained teeth.
"He's wakin' up. Welcome back to the living, son."
"Who the hen are you?"
"Local doc. Actually I'm a vet, but bones are bones.
You got a few cracked ones."
Carter ran his hands over his chest. It was swathed in
tape. "What else?"
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tape. • 'What else?"
"A few contusions, possible concussion, couple of
THE ANDROPOV FILE
95
loose teeth .
you'll be fine. Miss Loretta said you
took a bad fall."
Carter managed a smite that hurt his teeth. "Not half
as bad as she's gonna take."
'*Don't say that, Nick, after I carried you all the way
back here after your accident!"
Her face materialized on his other side. Carter was
about to raise some hell, when the dxtor snapped his
bag shut and spoke. "Just put a little antiseptic on his
face and that shoulder and he'll be fine in a day or so."
"I'll do that. Thanks, Doc."
The old manis face disappeared. Carter heard a door
close, and then the faces of the two bearded gorillas ap-
peared above him.
"Name's Mort."
"Name's Jake."
"No hard feelin's."
"Nah, we was just funnin' with ya a little. Sorry."
"Yeah, sorry."
"Me too," Carter said. "You satisfied now I'm not
here lookin' for you?"
"Y up."
"Get outta here, both Of ya. I'll take care of the rest
of him, like the said."
"Sure, Loretta. Anything we can do for yat Carter,
you just let us know, ya hear?"
"I'll do that."
They left, closing the door softly behind them, and
Loretta went to work with a cotton swab.
"Ow ouch dammit!"
"Relax, ya don't want infection, do ya?"
"l want a drink."
She shrugged, found him a bottle, and poured. She
also helped him scoot up on the bed so he could drink it.
"You're a good man. It ain't everyone would tee off
96
NICK CARTER
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NICK CARTER
on those three like you did. "
"Yeah. that's me. all guts and no brains."
The whiskey did wonders by the time the glass was
empty. He held it out for a refill and she joined him with
a second glass.
"What do you do for the State Department?"
"So you did go through my wallet. "
She nodded. "That's all they wanted to do. make sure
you weren't a state cop or FBI."
"And what if were FBI?"
Loretta shrugged. "Swamp. Feelin• better?"
"Lots."
That brought a smile from her that Carter decided
was pure leer.
"Good. Here's yer envelope."
It had been ripped open. Carter took out the single
sheet of paper. It was a detailed map with arrows point-
ing upriver and then off on a small tributary. There
were landmarks detailed all the way so he couldrCt miss
the final X •ed destination.
"That's the old Shackleford places" Loretta eom-
mented. peering over his shoulder. "It's empty now.
The old man died about a year ago. You'll need a boat
to get there."
"And you'll rent me one?"
' 'Sure, least we can do."
' 'Tell you what. Loretta. I won't ask you what you
and your friends do, and you don't ask me what I do.
Deal?"
"l guess that's fair. Friends?" She held out her right
hand.
• 'Friends." Carter said, taking her hand.
The move was smooth, right down on the bed beside
him as if she had oil in all her joints.
"You know what, Nick Carter?" she purred.
"What?"
THE ANDROPOV FILE
97
• •r 'm glad as hell you're not a cop. It's nice seein' a
new face out here now and then."
Her arm slipped around his neck and she offered her



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etnovewassmootmrtsnt down on the bed
him as if she had oil in all her joints.
"You know what, Nick Carter?" she purred.
"What?"
THE ANDROPOV FILE
97
• •r 'm glad as hell you're not a cop. It's nice seein' a
new face out here now and then."
Her arm slipped around his neck and she offered her
mouth to his. It was a jong kiss, deep and open and
startling. During it. her body was yielding. melting to
his.
He slid his arms around her shoulders, and felt her
heart beat as she leaned against his body. He let his
tongue travel around the rim of her ear, feeling a shiver
of desire ride through her, matching his.
"I want you," she whispered.
"Right to the point, aren't you?"
"That's the way we do things down here. "
Her hand moved down between his legs. and for the
first time Carter realized he was naked.
' 'I do believe you're up to it,"
she chuckled, and
stood.
She moved across the room and killed the overhead
light. That left only the dim light from the bathroom
shining through the partially open door.
On the way back to the bed she unzipped the red dress
and let it work its way down over her body to puddle on
the floor. She wore no bras and in the gloom Carter saw
her slip out of the white haze of her panties.
He lay back as she moved over him, straddling him.
Her ripe breasts swayed provocatively and then lowered
to massage his chest as their lips came together.
Their mouths opened in a kiss that drove all the pain
from Carter's body.
She guided his hands to her hips and let him move her
down over him.
"There." she moaned, "right there."
Then she swallowed him and her hips twisted and
surged, drawing him deeper and deeper inside her.
She was a bottomless crean of pleasure, and Carter
explored it all. The waves covered both of them with




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explored it all. The waves coveredb6iK"orthem
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NiCK CARTER
desire, and then exploded into fire.
She locked her knees at his chest and undulated wildly
above him. He felt a contraction and a sudden, violent
throbbing as she reached the peak Of her own orgasm.
Suddenly his hips lurched and wave after wave Of
release surged through his body. It centered and flowed
upward to his chest and down to his thighs.
"Well?" she said, again settling her upper body over
his.
"All is forgiven," Carter said, grinning, already feel-
ing himself slipping into a deep sleep.