# The Master Assassin 2

Лев Переводчик Шкловский

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Tiez was undaunted. He moved still closer, whis-

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NICK CARTER

pering something Carter couldn't hear. He stared

at her unflinchingly, the way a trainer would at an

unbroken horse.

Her eyes were wild. Carter saw her mute terror as

her nervous glance flashed past him. They took in the

four guns, then darted back to the sergeant.

Tiez made another attempt to grab her wrist. This

time she didn't resist. He slipped on half the re-

straint, then, with a jerk, slipped on the other half.

Finally, taking her firmly where the two loops joined,

he forced her to climb out.

The other men were waiting among the branches,

their guns gradually turning upward and the safeties

being put on when they saw the sergeant had things

under control. Then, without a word spoken, as

though this were part of a ritual they all inherently

understood, the five men and the girl began to climb

hand over hand, off the mass of branches and vines

to the other shore.

Only Carter remained, looking around at the three

dead bodies. They had to call him twice to rejoin the

group.

At noon they stopped beneath an overhang of

palms and began to nibble at several plastic tubes of

food. These were combat rations of some sort, new

in Carter's experience, and the idea apparently was to

squeeze ribbons of it onto your fingers, then nibble it

off.

When Carter's turn came, he waved the tube away.

"I've lost my appetite," he said.

The sergeant nodded and passed the tube to the

next man, but he gave Carter a scrutinizing look, and

Carter realized that he could not afford to be too

outspoken.

The girl, Carter noticed, ate as though it were her

last meal. She took up the tube when it was offered

and spread the foodstuff over all the fingers of one

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hand, then gobbled it all down greedily. This amused

Tiez, who smiled at her.

There was something in Tiez's attitude toward the

girl that Carter found particularly distasteful. He was

solicitous of her, as though they were courting, and

this didn't jibe somehow with the fact he and his men

had just murdered her family.

The girl, for her part, was too numbed by shock

to respond to anything but food. She spent the rest

of the afternoon walking dully between Velasquez

and Patterson, neither fast nor slow, staring at the

ground as though she were already dead, or so lost

and without hope as to make the difference between

living and dying negligible.

Shortly before sunset the trail bent upward and the

six of them began to climb out of the valley of the

Paraguay River onto a flat tableland that was punc-

tuated here and there by outcroppings of jagged

black rock. Broad vistas of the surrounding land-

scape became visible. The forest extended out of the

valley toward a group of low hills in the distance that

were also covered with trees.

"The base," announced Tiez, pointing to a section

of trees nestled in the joining of two hills.

"How can you tell?" asked Carter, squinting at

the area the sergeant was indicating. It looked like a

uniform mass of green, unbroken anywhere.

"It's camouflaged to prevent its being spotted

from the air," answered Tiez.

The trail here was well worn. and by the time dark-

ness had descended, they'd reached a kind of out-

post, a crude campground consisting of rotted logs

arranged around a fire pit and a level place to pitch

tents.

The men set to work immediately, building a fire,

then using the firelight to put up the tents. Patterson

and the Russian had one tent, Velasquez and Gal-

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NICK CARTER

legos another, and Tiez had one of his own. There

was no tent for Carter, but no one seemed bothered

z said he would provide mosquito net-


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arranged around a fire pit and a level place to pitch

tents.

The men set to work immediately, building a fire,

then using the firelight to put up the tents. Patterson

and the Russian had one tent, Velasquez and Gal-

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NICK CARTER

legos another, and Tiez had one of his own. There

was no tent for Carter, but no one seemed bothered

by the fact. Tiez said he would provide mosquito net-

ting to hang over the branch of a tree if Carter de-

sired.

The big issue seemed to be where the girl was going

to sleep. Tiez had tied her to a tree on a long tether,

and she sat watching the ritual of making camp with

complete disinterest.

As the other men were preparing to bed down, Tiez

went to the tree where the girl was tied. He cut the

tether, then, wrapping it tightly around his hand,

began to lead her back to his tent.

No one objected. Apparently it was the right of the

senior officer to do as he pleased. but Carter noticed

the other men watched covertly. It was obvious that

each of them desired her, and would very much like

to be in Tiez's position.

As it turned out, however, they had nothing to be

jealous of. As the sergeant stooped to enter his tent,

the girl suddenly came alive. She attacked him vi-

ciously from behinds knocking him forward into the

tent and collapsing the fragile structure.

Struggling noises came from beneath the walls of

the tent, and Carter instinctively started to move in

that direction. The Russian, however, held him off

with a reassuring wave. "The sergeant can take care

Of himself," Revsky said, unaware that Carter's con-

cern was for the girl.

In a few seconds Tiez emerged, holding a knife and

dragging the girl by the wrist. Her face was cut on

one side. A rivulet of blood oozed from her cheek

and was seeping toward the corner of her mouth.

Other than that, from what Carter could see, she

wasn't badly hurt. Tiez, on the other hand, had nail

marks on both sides of his forehead.

He was livid with anger. As he pulled her near the

fire, his mouth twitched. Holding her down with one


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lez, on eo her an

a nal

marks on both sides of his forehead.

He was livid with anger. As he pulled her near the

fire, his mouth twitched. Holding her down with one

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

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knee on her stomach, Tiez secured her wrists once

more with what was left of the tether. then dragged

her to the base of a nearby tree. The girl fought and

her screams filled the air, but Tiez was oblivious to

her struggles. He tied a knot in the end of the tether

and wedged it between two branches of the tree, then

he tore away the ragged animal-skin dress she wore.

She had a beautiful body, as smooth and lithe and

muscular as a jungle cat.

The men didn't move. They were fascinated.

The sergeant pulled out his shirt and began to undo

the buckle of his belt. The look on his face had

changed from anger to grim determination, but

Carter could see the anger was still there, smoldering

underneath like a hayfire, ready to flare up at any

moment. If the girl survived this ordeal, she wouldn't

live long afterward. The sergeant was in a mood to

kill.

Suddenly Carter knew he couldn't wait any longer.

If he was going to make a move, it had to be now. He

leaped at the sergeant, a high, arching karate kick

that might well have split the man's head if Carter

hadn't altered the angle slightly and come down in

the middle of his back. Tiez flew off the girl and

tumbled into a thicket of fern.

The girl didn't need any more chance than that.

She sat up, and with a powerful yank, she pulled her

hands free. Then, with her wrists still bound, she

scrambled to her feet and darted into the trees. She

looked like a gazelle, her tan buttocks pumping as

her legs carried her to safety.

Tiez was on his feet in a second. He started after

her but soon saw he was hopelessly outdistanced.

Then he turned to Carter. His eyes burned like coals

in his head, and his fists clenched and unclenched at

his sides.

"Idiot!" he hissed. i' What the hell do you think

you're doing?"


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you're doing?"

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NICK CARTER

said Carter calmly.

"They're human beings,"

turning away. "You can't treat them like animals."

Tiez ran around to Carter's other side, thrusting

his face up into Carter's. "What the hell do you

know?" he yelled. "You've been in this jungle a few

days and you're going to tell me how to treat In-

Patterson clicked a cartridge into the breech of his

Uzi, and the sound caused everyone to stop and look

at him. "You know, Sarge," he said slowly, "I

thought we should've killed this joker this morning.

Wanna do it now?"

said Tiez, warming to the idea. His

"Yeah,"

mouth fanned into a broad smile. "Maybe we

should. Who's going to know?"

Carter had been watching Patterson, looking

for an opening. Now, as the American mercenary

turned to grin at Tiez, Carter seized the moment. He

snatched the gun barrel in a movement almost too

quick to see.

Panerson's reaction was to pull back, but Carter

anticipated this. He let Patterson go, then yanked

him suddenly forward. At this point Patterson could

either let go of the gun, which would put it into Car-

ter's hands—and give Carter the drop on everybody

—or hold onto the gun, which would bring him on a

dead run into Carter's left fist. Patterson chose the

latter.

Because of the speed of Carter's initial move, he

had time to rear back and put a little weight behind

his punch. This. combined with the force Of Patter-

son's forward motion, seemed to almost destroy the

man's nose when it hit. The nostrils split and blood

showered his uniform.

The man staggered. He fell to his knees, but he did

not let go of the gun. It was as though his hands had

not yet received the message the rest of his body was

broadcastin .

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

As Carter reached


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As Carter reached for the gun, something hard

slammed into the small of his back.

Carter fell to the ground and rolled over twice, al-

most spinning into the fire, He sprang to his feet and

saw it was Gallegos who had kicked him.

The other men were now beginning to react. Velas-

quez, Revsky, and Gallegos were all moving in Car-

ter's direction, while Tiez headed toward the tents.

The other guns had been stacked there, and although

the other three men were much closer and posed a

more immediate threat, it was Tiez who worried

Carter. Somehow the Killmaster had to keep the ser-

geant from reaching the weapons.

Gallegos had covered more ground than the

others. He had followed his kick to Carter's back and

was now within a few feet of Carter, looking for an

opportunity to do more damage. But Carter was on

his feet this time and facing him.

He feinted to his left, then went low, moving like

lightning, sweeping the man's legs out from under

him with a broad kick. Gallegos went down and

Carter leaped on him with a punch to the rib cage

that made the soldier's body jump as though it had

received an electric shock.

Then came the other two.

Tiez, meanwhile. was at the guns, picking one up.

Carter felt a new urgency to stop him.

The Russian was small, half a foot shorter than his

Latino buddy, and weighed probably thirty pounds

less. Carter sprang for him, arresting his forward

motion by grabbing his clothes and picking him up

bodily off the ground. Then, with one hand on his

chest and the other on the belt of his pants, Carter

hurled the young man back. Revsky flew into Tiez,

who was just about to swing around with the gun.

The two fell over each other, sprawling onto the

ground and scattering the guns.

This left Velasquez, the Latino kid. He, .too, had

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NICK CARTER

been carrying a gun earlier. He was the kind who was

attracted to a gun in almost a sexual way. A gun to

s like a woman; he needed to have it close by


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c est an t eot er ont e eto IS pants, arter

hurled the young man back. Revsky flew into Tiez,

who was just about to swing around with the gun.

The two fell over each other, sprawling onto the

ground and scattering the guns.

This left Velasquez, the Latino kid. He, .too, had

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NICK CARTER

been carrying a gun earlier. He was the kind who was

attracted to a gun in almost a sexual way. A gun to

him was like a woman; he needed to have it close by

to fondle and stroke. But when he had seen the fight

ensuing. he had put the gun aside. He had also stood

by and let Carter throw his Russian comrade a dozen

feet through the air. He seemed very eager to con-

front Carter one-on-one, and as Carter turned to

him, he quickly saw why. The boy had drawn himself

into a karate stance and was circling, hissing like a

cobra.

Carter immediately went into a fighting stance,

very much aware that he had to dispose of this kid

quickly before the others recovered. He didn't have

time to spar.

He lashed out with another leg sweep, but it wasn't

well timed. The kid skipped away, but not before

delivering a sharp blow to Carter's knee. A flash of

pain shot up Carter's leg.

Meanwhile, Gallegos had pulled himself up. He

was still holding his bruised ribs, but he didn't look

all that much worse for wear. Velasquez was about to

charge from Carter's left. Gallegos now came in

from the right.

But Caner was more than ready. The adrenaline in

his system had taken him past the point of needing to

think. He charged with a flurry of punches and kicks,

spinning like a dervish. He caught Velasquez on the

jaw, shot a knee into his stomach, and, as he was fall-

ing away, chopped the nerve center at the back of his

neck. The man's body stiffened like a pole, then lay

still on the ground, hovering near unconsciousness.

Simultaneously, the Killmaster attacked Gallegos.

The man got a short, rapid punch to the face and a

sweeping kick to the head, Carter's leg stretched to

its limits. The blow caught the soldier squarely on the

temple. He went down like a felled tree


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eepmg tc o e ea

arter s eg stretc e to

its limits. The blow caught the soldier squarely on the

temple. He went down like a felled tree.

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Patterson's gun lay near the fire. Carter dashed for

it and scooped it up. Tiez, too, after shoving the Rus-

Sian aside, had scrambled for a gun, and he'd also

brought his up, but not as fast as Carter.

"Hold it right there, Tiez."

Tiez saw that he'd lost. His eyes grew cautious and

the gun loosened in his hand.

' 'Drop it," ordered Carter.

Tiez let the gun fall. "Most impressive, senor," he

said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"You didn't learn that in Colombia."

"You'd be surprised what you can learn in Colom-

bia. A man has to learn to take care of himself any-

where. "

' 'Then a man must always watch his back."

Carter started to turn, when the cold finger of a

gun barrel pressed against the back of his neck.

Strong hands wrenched the machine gun from his

grasp, then a figure walked past him and sauntered

into the light of the fire. It was a man wearing an

Australian bush hat, pulled low on one side. The face

was angular and sharp, but there was softness about

it at the jowl and around the mouth.

A man who liked his comforts, Carter decided.

The man threw the gun to Tiezj then turned to face

Carter. "You fight like a mother leopard. Who the

hell are you?"

' 'My name's Phil Royce. Who are you?"

"l, my friend, am Colonel Anderson."


FOUR

"Someone want to tell me what's going on?"

asked Anderson. He crouched down, took an ember

from the fire, and lit a slim cigar.

"This man has been disrupting our maneuvers,"

Tiez complained hotly, pointing at Carter. "Ever

since we picked him up at the river, he's been nothing

but trouble."

Anderson regarded Carter. "This true?" he asked

calmly.

Carter said nothing.

"Why don't you tell me the whole story, Sergeant?

From the beginning."

Tiez quickly related how they had found Carter

and the story he had told them. Then he mentioned

the incident with the Indians and how the girl had

been captured.

' 'That's enough," said Anderson impatiently. "I

can guess the rest, So," he said, coming up to Carter,

' 'you don't approve of our methods of taming the

native population, is that right, Mr. Royce?"

"There's a difference between taming and elimi-

nating," said Carter.

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"You should study your own national history, Mr.


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"You should study your own national history, Mr.

Royce. Your cowboys and cavalry did little better on

your western frontier. "

"I think you should know that your men stole

money that belongs to me," said Carter.

"I had a

guide when I came in here, a snake named Juan from

San Pedro. He robbed me and threw me in the river.

Your men found him and most likely killed him. He

must have been carrying my five thousand on him. I

can't imagine where else it could have been. "

"Five thousand dollars?" asked Anderson looking

anew at Tiez and his men. None of them would re-

turn his look.

"That's right. "

Now it was Tiez's turn to come under Anderson's

scrutiny. "It seems you've been busy," Anderson

said. "We'll have a little talk when we get back to

camp. Meanwhile, Mr. Royce—if that is your name

—what's the idea of bringing a sum like that into the

jungle? Surely you were asking to lose it."

"Earnest money. I'm here to look over Frank

Perlman's camp. See if it's worth investing in. He

told me he needed money. "

"What did you expect him to do with five thou-

sand in cash way out here? You must have known it

would cause problems. "

"Not at all. I brought it along to show my good

faith."

"And you have more money, I assume?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

' 'Enough."

Anderson had moved away from the fire and now

came up close and looked Carter in the face. Carter

could see the firelight flickering in his dark eyes.

"So you are a rich man," sneered Anderson. "But

wealth doesn't mean anything out here, Mr. Royce.

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NICK CARTER

All that matters here is how well you can handle

this." He held out the machine gun.

"l don't do badly with that, either," said Carter.


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came up close and looked Carter in the face. Carter

could see the firelight flickering in his dark eyes.

"So you are a rich man," sneered Anderson. "But

wealth doesn't mean anything out here, Mr. Royce.

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NICK CARTER

All that matters here is how well you can handle

this." He held out the machine gun.

"l don't do badly with that, either," said Carter.

"Perlman taught me himself."

"l see," said Anderson scornfully, turning away.

"And when did you last speak to our good colonel?"

' 'A few months ago."

"How many months?" Anderson shot at him. He

spun around sharply.

Carter felt heid better be careful. A wrong answer

could blow everything. 'VI don't know. Several. "

"Exact date, please."

Carter thought hard. The information on Perl-

man's comings and goings was vague. Hawk had said

Perlman had been leaving for months at a time. On

the other hand, if he came up with an exact date,

Anderson might guess he was lying.

"I don't remember exactly when. Sometime in the

spring.

Anderson abruptly turned away. It was impossible

for Carter to tell if he'd given the right answer or not.

"What is your business, Mr. Royce?" Anderson

asked.

"Import-export."

' 'That's a polite way of saying smuggling. Are you

a smuggler, Mr. Royce?"

Carter didn't answer.

"As I was coming up, I heard someone mention

Colombia. Is that where you do your importing and

exporting, Mr. Royce?"

"Yes."

"I know of only one commodity exported from

Colombia upon which men make quick fortunes.

Isn't that right, Sergeant?"

Tiez smiled knowingly.

"Is that the kind of smuggler you are, Mr. Royce?

The kind who makes himself rich off the misery of


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s a e tn o smugg er you are,

r. oyce.

The kind who makes himself rich off the misery of

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others, peddling his white death all over the world?"

"It's true. I smuggle cocaine. "

"And yet you have the nerve to come here and

make judgments about the way we treat our Indians?

You strike me as a man of convenient morals, Mr.

Royce."

"I'd like to speak with Colonel Perlman."

"Yes, I imagine you would," said Anderson with a

laugh. He held his cigar in his teeth at a defiant angle.

"But Colonel Perlman isn't with us. He's at a new

camp he's building further in the interior. So you see.

we don't need your money here, Mr. Royce. What I

should do is give you back your five thousand and

send you packing."

"Why don't you?" asked Carter.

Anderson shrugged, blowing a thoughtful ring of

smoke in the air. "That little maneuver I interrupted

intrigues me. I'd like to know more about the man

who was able to do that. "

"Then you'll let me stay in the camp until Perlman

arrives? "

"I'll let you stay. I'm not saying how long. Mean-

while, unless you want your throat cut in the middle

of the night, I suggest you come with me. "

' 'If you're worried about us, Colonel," said Tiez,

"we don't mean Mr. Royce any harm."

"Hah!" shouted Anderson, slapping his sergeant

good-naturedly on the shoulder. "Of course you do!

Come along, Mr. Royce."

Anderson moved away from the fire, toward the

foliage from which he'd appeared. Carter turned to

follow, getting a deadly look from Tiez in the proc-

ess.

"The sergeant is not the kind of man you want to

make your enemy." said Anderson over his shoulder

as he made his way through the darkness.

"I didn't set out to," said Carter. ' 'But looking

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back on it, it was inevitable."

Anderson led him to a jeep standing in a narrow

road. The road looked little used. Waist-high weeds

were growing in it.

"Sergeant Tiez is one of the best-trained fighters in

the world," Anderson said, getting in behind the

wheel and starting the engine. s 'No matter how good

you are, you have to respect that."

Carter climbed into the passenger seat.

"All the men here are well trained," Anderson

went on. ' 'In fact I would pit my men against any

military unit in any army anywhere in the world.

They are the very best. I don't know if Colonel Perl-

man told you that."

"Yeah, he told me," Carter said as the jeep

lurched forward.

The road to the camp was difficult to drive at best,

even in a jeep. It plunged into gulleys, shot up sheer

rock faces, disappeared under creeks. Nonetheless,

Anderson drove as though it were a race, spinning

the wheel wildly this way and that, and at times. it

seemed to Carter, taking the most obstructed path.

He seemed to delight in trying to terrify Carter, all

the while keeping up a steady stream of banter that

after a very hard day was giving Carter a monumen-

tal headache.

But Carter planted both feet firmly on the floor,

one hand under the dash, the other on the frame of

his seat. and stuck it out.

Anderson seemed wholly taken with the accom-

plishments of his men. He talked of nothing else.

They were the best marksmen, the best trackers, the

most capable in a firefight of any men on earth. And

several times, although Carter certainly didn't ask,

he offered to prove his boasts were true.

So monotonous and irritating was Anderson's con-

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

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versation that by the time they'd reached the camp.

Carter had begun to tune him out. He was now listen-

ing to thoughts of his own, wondering how a man


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They were the best marksmen, the best trackers, the

most capable in a firefight of any men on earth. And

several times, although Carter certainly didn't ask,

he offered to prove his boasts were true.

So monotonous and irritating was Anderson's con-

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

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versation that by the time they'd reached the camp.

Carter had begun to tune him out. He was now listen-

ing to thoughts of his own, wondering how a man

like Anderson came to be here in the first place and

exactly where Perlman was.

As they stopped for the checkpoint at the camp

gate, Carter noticed a pylon in the grass about shoul-

der height, bristling with electrical conductors.

"You have an electronic perimeter?" he asked.

"Just put it in. Can't be too careful in Paraguay.

This is General Stroessner's backyard, remember.

Anytime he wanted to, he could come in here and

take us over. We'd have to fight our way out or end

up in one of his prisons."

"Colonel Perlman told me he had the Paraguayans

permanently bought off. "

"That was then. Situations change fast here."

Carter wasn't sure whether this was true. but he

was certain of one thing: electronic equipment like a

multisensor perimeter costs money, money Hawk

had said Perlman didn't have.

This wasn't the only evidence of affluence. As they

pulled into the compound, Carter counted three

trucks, five jeeps other than the one they were in, and

everyone on guard duty, it seemed, was carrying a

brand-new Uzi.

In addition to this, electric lights burned every-

where. If they were generating electricity twenty-four

hours a day, it represented a huge outlay for gasoline

alone.

It certainly didn't look as though the camp needed

money, Carter thought. Had Hawk been wrong

about that? The old man rarely made mistakes.

The camp consisted of a parade ground sur-

rounded by a series of squat buildings of unpainted

plywood. Anderson pulled up in front of one of these

and stopped.'


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avounamgsomtn

plywood. Anderson pulled up in front of one of these

and stopped.'

NICK CARTER

6' These are Colonel Perlman's quarters, You can

stay here. I want you isolated from the rest of the

men, for the time being."

" How long before Perlman comes back to camp?"

Carter asked.

"I haven't the faintest idea, but I wouldn't get too

comfortable." Anderson motioned to two men in

jungle fatigues sitting in the light of a nearby door-

way. "I want you to keep an eye on this man," he

said to them. "Under no circumstances is he to leave

this area. "

' 'Vamanos, amigo, " said one of the men.

They led Carter to the door of the small house,

opened it, and ushered him in. Then one of them

took up the post at the front door and the other went

around to the back.

A single bulb hung from the ceiling. Carter groped

for the chain and turned it on.

It wasn't much of a room. A cot was pushed

against one wall; a dresser with a piece of broken

mirror stood against the other. Between them was a

rattan chair with most of its caning gone. A narrow

window looked down the length of the parade

ground.

Wearily he began to get undressed, He'd had a hell

of a day, and now all he wanted was sleep.

His shirt stuck to him like an old postage stamp.

There were still bits of algae clinging to him from his

dip in the river, and if that weren't enough, the

sweat-soaked clothes he wore were all he had. He

thought he'd gladly give up ten years of his pension

for a shower.

He stepped to the window. A yard light hung over

the parade ground and in its light he could see the

man who was watching the back of the house. He

was smoking.

Well, at least he'd made it to Perlman's camp. The

THE MASTER ASSASSIN


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, at east e ma e It to er man scamp.

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investor from Colombia cover had been a bust, but

then no one had known the camp was doing so well.

The information must have gotten garbled along the

line. Carter didn't have any idea where, but it didn't

matter. He was in; that was the important thing.

But just how long he stayed in, and what he would

be subjected to while he was waiting for Perlman to

show up, was something else entirely.

He certainly didn't trust Anderson. The man

seemed as though he were half crazy. It was a mys-

tery to Carter how such a man had become second-

in-command in Perlman's camp.

Carter unzipped his pants and let them fall to the

floor, then he stepped out Of them. He was bone

tirea. Deep-through tired. He felt as though he could

sleep for a year.

He sat down on the bed. Perlman's bed. Wherever

Frank Perlman was now, at one time or another he

had sat on the edge of this bed just as Carter was

doing.

Carter didn't want to have to kill Perlman. He felt

this as a certainty deep down in the very core of his

being. He'd been feeling it ever since Hawk gave him

the assignment, but he hadn't been able to admit it to

himself. Now that he had, he didn't know what he

was going to do. All he did know was that if and

when he and Perlman met, something was going to

have to give. Either Perlman was coming with him,

or he was going to have to kill him. It was as simple

as that.


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FIVE

Reveille blew at dawn, which when Carter checked

his watch was four forty-five. Carter rolled over and

went back to sleep.

At around nine, someone knocked on the door.

"Colonel Anderson wants to see you," said a voice.

Carter opened the door and found a young man of

about eighteen. He was wearing jungle fatigues, and

the Uzi he carried was pointed at Carter and the

safety was off.

"Right now," the boy added.

The boy stepped in as Carter slipped back into his

pants and shirt, which were still damp from the day

before. Then he led Carter across the compound to

another building made of unpainted plywood sheet-

ing like all the rest.

Anderson was waiting in a small room furnished

with wicker tables and chairs. He was sitting at one

end of a long table and he motioned for Carter to

take the seat next to him. Carter sat, and another

man appeared carrying a steaming plate of food and

some silverware. He set these things in front of

Carter and retired.

56

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

57

"Enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Royce," said Ander-

son.

At least they had no intention of starving him,


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some silverware. He

Carter and retired.

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set these things in front of

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THE MASTER ASSASSIN

57

"Enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Royce," said Ander-

son.

At least they had no intention of starving him,

thought Carter. He began to wolf down the scram-

bled eggs.

"l •ve been talking with Sergeant Tiez," Anderson

said, leaning across the table, "and besides the five

thousand, it seems your guide may have been carry.

ing two other items that may have been yours. "

"I want that five thousand back, by the way," said

Carter.

' 'I'm afraid that's impossible. I've already given

the five thousand to Sergeant Tiez as a reward for

finding you and bringing you here. If I were you. I'd

consider it money well spent. Besides, if this second

item is genuine, I'd say you can well afford it."

He pulled an envelope from his pocket and put it

on the table. It was the letter of credit Hawk had

made up.

"I see that you're a very rich man, Mr. Royce."

"Dealing in cocaine is an operation that takes

money," said Carter blandly. "A lot of money."

"True, " Anderson conceded. "But I have another

theory. Spying is another occupation that takes a

great deal of money. And we all know how spend-

thrift the American government is."

Carter laughed. "That's a very wild accusation. "

"Not so wild as all that. You see, Tiez also found

this." Anderson undid the flap of his holster and

drew out Wilhelmina. "Is this yours?"

said Carter, reaching

"As a matter of fact it is,"

for the gun.

Anderson quickly slid it away. "Not so fast, Mr.

Royce. I wouldn't give it to you. even unloaded."

He hefted the gun, sighted it, tested its action. "A

most unusual weapon. A nine-millimeter Luger is


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NICK CARTER

rare in itself, but one with an altered stock like this?

Highly unusual. "

"l had it custom made."

"I don't doubt it. I've heard of a gun like this and

the man who uses it. DO you know who I mean?"

Carter's heart leaped into his mouth. He looked at

Anderson hard and thought he noted a twinkle of

amusement in the man's eye.

"No, who?" he asked.

"Why, Nick Carter, of course."

"Who's Nick Carter?"

Once again, Anderson placed the gun on the table,

this time well out of Carter's reach.

"It's possible, I suppose, that you've never heard

of Nick Carter. But in my part of the world he was a

well-known figure, if only on a local level."

' 'What part of the world is that?" asked Carter

coolly.

Inwardly, he was speculating wildly. Anderson ob-

viously had a very strong notion of his true identity.

The question was, what was Anderson planning to do

with this knowledge? And for that matter, just who

the hell was this Anderson? And what had happened

to Perlman? Carter's sixth sense for trouble was

starting to send him very strong signals.

"You may have guessed, Mr. Royce, that I'm not

an American," Anderson went on. "l was born in a

wretched little country in an impoverished corner of

the world where the political climate was not as—

how shall I say it?—as placid as in the United States.

I was fighting tanks with sticks and stones long be-

fore I was old enough to carry a weapon.

"Most boys have legendary heroes, Mr. Royce,

but we had legendary enemies. One such enemy was a

man we called Nick Carter. I'm not sure where the

name came from, but Nick Carter was supposed to

be the epitome of all the oil-rich, grasping Westerners

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

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THE MASTER ASSASSIN

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it had ever been our misfortune to meet or hear

about. He was the preeminent bad guy—the

boogeyman, as it were.

"As we grew older, the stories about this fantasy

figure grew with us. He became more than just a

legend; he became a taunt, the focus of all our

hatred. You see, Mr. Royce, while most young men

are taught to love and be gentle. we were taught to

hate and destroy. Nick Carter became the center of

those feelings."

"This is fascinating," said Carter sarcastically.

"Mind telling me what you're driving at?"

"Nick Carter was said to use a weapon just like

this one. "

'SAnd that makes me this magical Nick Carter

character?"

"Certainly not. I don't know if Nick Carter ever

really existed. Probably not. He was more than likely

the product of our young, overactive imaginations.

But it's intriguing to think about, isn't it? Especially

after that incident with Tiez yesterday. That was very

good, you know. Five armed men and suddenly you

have the drop on all of them. A remarkable maneu-

ver. The kind of which legends are made. "

Carter shrugged. "It was nothing," he said mod-

estly.

'*Yes/ Mr. Nick Carter, it was nothing

. for

you," Anderson said harshly. ' 'And that is just what

worries me. It makes me wonder what a man of your

abilities is doing snooping around my unimportant

little camp."

Carter said nothing, but his ears pricked. So

Anderson thinks of this as his camp, he thought. Had

something happened to Perlman?

"And, Mr. Carter," Anderson continued,

don't like feeling that you might be inquiring so

closely into what is—after all—my business. I'd like

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NICK CARTER

to give you a little warning: we don't like snoops

around here.


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arter saj not Ing, ut ears pnc e .

o

Anderson thinks of this as his camp, he thought. Had

something happened to Perlman?

"And, Mr. Carter," Anderson continued,

don't like feeling that you might be inquiring so

closely into what is—after all—my business. I'd like

60

NICK CARTER

to give you a little warning: we don't like snoops

around here.

"And just to add a little spice to my warning,"

added Anderson, 's I thought I would give you a little

demonstration of what we do here with people who

displease us. Have you finished your breakfast?"

Carter was done. The eggs had begun to taste like

chalk.

"Then come with me. I want to show you some-

thing. "

Carter stood and followed Anderson out of the

Outside, the day broiled. On the parade ground

men were drilling. Their shirts clung to them like wet

suits.

Anderson took Carter to the other end of the com-

pound to a section that was separated from the other

buildings by a high wall. The wall had been formed

by logs driven into the ground end-first, then sharp-

ened at the top into spikes.

"What's this?" asked Carter. "The stockade?"

"Not quite. "

Anderson stepped through a narrow door in the

wall and beckoned Carter to follow. Inside was a

courtyard lined on three sides with narrow metal

cages. At first Carter thought it was some kind of

gamekeeper's sanctuary, but as he looked closer, he

saw it wasn't animals in the various cages, but

people.

"I thought you might be interested in seeing

something that reflected the Indian's true worth in

Paraguay,"

said Anderson. "What with your

chronic sensitivity to other people's suffering

Carter stooped and peered into one of the cages.

The figure inside regarded him with a blank stare, as

though the world Carter represented was so vast and


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The figure inside regarded him with a blank stare, as

though the world Carter represented was so vast and

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

beyond his comprehension, he'd ceased to even be

curious about it. Carter had seen such looks before,

on animals in zoos.

"This is unconscionable," said Carter. "You're an

educated man, Colonel. How can you tolerate this?"

"It's not a matter of tolerance. It's a matter of

being in Rome and doing as the Romans do. They're

childish primitives and they happen to be in the way

here. They're expendable, but I didn't bring you out

here to snivel over the fate of a few mangy natives. If

you're going to wait for Colonel Perlman to show

up, you may be with us a while and I want you to see

how we pass our time here."

Anderson clapped his hands loudly and within a

few seconds a young man ran in the door and

snapped to attention.

"Yes, Colonel?"

"Assemble A team."

"Yes, Colonel. "

The young man dashed out and in a few seconds

hurried back in, followed by four other men, all

dressed as he was, in jungle fatigues, helmets, and

boots. Each of them carried a brand-new submachine

gun. They lined up at attention in the courtyard,

chins out, eyes forward. One of them sported ser-

geant's stripes.

"Sergeant!" Anderson barked.

The man with the stripes took one step forward.

"You feeling fit this morning, Sergeant?"

"Yes, sir!"

"And your men?"

"Couldn't be better, sir!"

"Are they ready for a little rabbit run this morn-

ing?"

"You bet, sir!"

"Choose your quarry. "


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NICK CARTER

The sergeant left the ranks and began walking

down the row of cages. stopping now and then to

peer inside.

"What's he looking for?" Carter asked, but

Anderson waved the question away impatiently. He

kept his eyes riveted on the sergeant.

Finally the sergeant found a cage to his liking.

8 'This one, sir!" he announced, pointing.

' 'Good choice," Anderson declared. He walked

over to where the sergeant was standing and pulled a

set of keys from his pocket. "This one came in just

yesterday. "

He opened the door, but the cage's occupant was

reluctant to come out. Anderson reached in, grabbed

him by ear, and pulled him out into the courtyard.

"Sometimes one has to be firm with these rab-

bits," said Anderson, with a glance at Carter.

It was a boy of about twelve. His eyes were large

and fearful as he took in his surroundings. Around

his waist was a thin leather thong. It was all the

clothing he wore.

"These Indians know the jungle better than any

man living," Anderson explained excitedly. "They

run like gazelles and their coloring makes them

almost impossible to see. And they're smart. That's

the best part. That's what makes it different from

hunting animals. These sons of bitches can think!

Choose a man, Sergeant. "

The sergeant slowly walked down the rank of men,

looking each of them over carefully. He nodded to

one blond youngster with a nasty scar in the middle

of his forehead.

' 'Another good choice!" said Anderson, obviously

delighted. "Palkkala is Finnish," he explained to

Carter. S'He got that scar outrunning Russian

bullets. This will be a good match. All right, take this

rabbit to the hatch, Sergeant. "

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The sergeant took the young Indian by the arm and

forced him to the other end of the courtyard. In the

wall was a small square metal door with thick hinges

on it. Holding the boy firmly, the sergeant kicked the

latch and the door fell open.

' 'This is inhuman ." Carter said softly.

Anderson gave the sergeant a signal. "Benedetti!"

shouted the sergeant, and before Carter could react,

one of the sergeant's men had a gun to his back.

Anderson smiled at Carter. "We need our little

amusements, Mr. Carter. The jungle is a lonely,

maddening place. Let the rabbit go!" he shouted.

The sergeant forced the boy's head into the hatch

and pushed him outside. Then he took a bayonet

from a scabbard attached to his belt and threw that

out as well.

"You see, Mr. Carter?" Anderson sang out. "It's

not as inhuman as you might think!"

Then, for more than a minute, no one moved,

while Anderson looked at his watch.

'*What are we waiting for? " asked Carter finally.

' 'Why, we must give the quarry time," said Ander-

son.

Palkkala dashed for the opening at the other end

of the courtyard. He opened it, but instead of plung-

ing in, he hesitated. He listened for a moment, then

fired several rounds into the wall near the opening

about waist high.

"Good man!" declared Anderson. 'iWe lost sev-

eral of our best recruits because they charged through

without securing the entrance first. "

The entrance having been secured, the young Finn

slipped out and disappeared.

"Now we wait," said Anderson. "And listen."

Another minute passed. No one spoke. Carter

watched the expressions on the faces. They were in-

tent and their eyes flashed with excitement, It was

64

NICK CARTER

obvious that hunts like this were something they all

relished.


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slipped out and disappeared.

"Now we wait," said Anderson. "And listen."

Another minute passed. No one spoke. Carter

watched the expressions on the faces. They were in-

tent and their eyes flashed with excitement, It was

64

NICK CARTER

obvious that hunts like this were something they all

relished.

Suddenly a loud call, like the bay of a large animal,

was audible from the other side of the wall.

S'He's found a sign!" shouted Anderson, his eyes

"It won't be long, I'll bet. What do

wide and eager.

you say, Sergeant?"

"No more than ten minutes, sir."

"Really? You have a great deal of confidence in

this young Finn of yours. Would you care to

wager?

' 'Certainly, sir."

Anderson took a black notebook from his breast

pocket and began flipping through its pages. "A

week's wages?" he asked, finding the page he

wanted. He pulled out a pencil from the same pocket

and wetted the end.

"Certainly, sir. "

Anderson made the notation, then checked his

watch.

Meanwhile, another keening cry could be heard

from the other side of the wall.

"He's very close!" Anderson cried. "Quickly, to

the jeeps!"

The men couldn't have become more animated if

they'd suddenly been granted six months' leave. They

ran for the door, all but Carter, who stubbornly

stayed behind.

"Aren't you coming, Mr. Carter?" asked Ander-

son.

"l'd rather not see the outcome," said Carter.

g 'No, you must, really," said Anderson. "You'll

miss the highlight of the entire hunt. "

He came back and took Carter by the arm. Carter

felt Wilhelmina's barrel pressed tightly against his

ribs. "Some of us have to be forced to have a good


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Wilhelmina's barrel pressed tightly against his

"Some of us have to be forced to have a good

THE MASTER ASSASSIN'

time," he said. He escorted Carter out the door.

65

The sergeant took some of his men in one jeep,

while Anderson took the remainder, including Car.

ter, who rode in the front seat.

As soon as they were outside the camp, one of the

men in Carter's jeep spotted Palkkala. He was

cautiously stepping through an open area of long

grass, his gun at the ready, his eyes watching the

ground. Apparently he had chased the young Indian

into the clearing and was now working it sys-

tematically, trying to flush him.

The jeeps parked thirty yards away on the gentle

slope of a hill, and the men watched Palkkala's

maneuvering silently. All but Anderson, who

couldn't restrain himself from talking.

"You have to understand the military potential

here,"

he whispered to Carter. ' 'Think how much

these Indians must hate us! What better experience

for a recruit than to have to hunt down a quarry who

knows these jungles since childhood, feels he's pro-

tecting his home, and who hates his pursuers more

than death itself? It's perfect! Of course these ln-

dians don't have any real chance against us, but is it

any wonder the men graduated from this camp have

established reputations for themselves as guerrilla

fighters all over the world?"

Carter didn't reply. He had met many cruel and

vicious men in his long career, but he was starting to

believe that he must number Anderson as one of the

worst. Carter could not condemn a man who killed

quickly and easily—he did the same himself—but the

wanton torture of helpless innocents for sport was a

different matter.

He couldn't imagine that Frank Perlman had con-

doned this behavior. It would be contrary to ev•

erything Carter knew_about the man.


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NICK CARTER

The Finn had spotted something. He stopped sud-

denly in the grass and slowly, carefully raised his gun

to eye level.

Anderson. in his eagerness to instruct and en-

lighten, had neglected to shut off the jeep. With a

movement too quick to prevent, Carter stepped over

the center hump and mashed on the gas pedali at the

same time slamming the gear shift into first.

The jeep lurched forward and bounced down the

hill directly at the young Finn, who was getting ready

to shoot. He saw it coming in the nick of time and

was able to jump out of the way, but his shot went

wild.

The Indian boy. seeing his chance, began to run

for a knot of palms and fern that stood on the edge

of the jungle. If he could reach there, Carter realized,

he would probably get away. He'd be a needle in a

haystack to find in all that foliage.

After almost colliding with the Finn, the jeep had

continued fifty feet further into the grass and

stopped. But unfortunately it was the same direction

in which the boy had to run. One of the soldiers sit-

ting behind Carter suddenly stood and shouldered his

machine gun. He had a clear shot. The boy was in the

open and had a good hundred feet to go before

reaching the trees.

Carter rammed his elbow into the soldier's thigh.

The unexpectedness of the blow brought the shooter

to his knees and almost knocked him out of the jeep.

At least now the boy had a chance. Only fifty feet

to go.

Suddenly, from the sergeant's jeep back up on the

hill, a machine gun erupted. Bullets went everywhere.

The soldiers on the back of Anderson's jeep jumped

for cover, and Carter and Anderson were forced to

duck down below the seat.

Over the hood Carter saw the boy dance like a pup-

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

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pet each time he was hit. Once, twice, too many times


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pet each time he was hit. Once, twice, too many times

for Carter to count.

Then, abruptly, all was still. Small white clouds of

gun smoke hung in the air.

"You fool!" Anderson screamed as he crawled out

from under the dash. "You arrogant bastard!" he

declared, looking at Carter with fire in his eyes.

"Your constant moralizing has reached its limit!"

Palkkala was even more violent. He had leaped up

from where he'd fallen and come at a dead run. Now

he jumped on Carter and knocked him out of the

jeep. They fell to the ground and rolled together,

with the Finn coming out on top.

In his anger Palkkala lapsed into Finnish. While

Carter had a basic knowledge of the language, these

crude curse words were beyond him. "Stupid!

Stupid!" was one word he did manage to catch as

fists rained down on him.

Carter was able to ward off most of the blows and

he had the good sense not to fight back. In a few

seconds two of the other soldiers pulled Palkkala off,

and although he was still kicking and swinging, they

were able to hold him.

"All bets are off!" Anderson announced, dusting

off his clothes. "And Palkkala will get another

chance to prove himself tomorrow. "

One of the soldiers came running up. "Colonel,"

he said urgently, "the Indian boy is still alive."

Anderson, obviously annoyed, followed his man

into the grass. They stood for several seconds in the

waist-high grass looking down, then Anderson took

out his pistol and fired once.

Carter consoled himself with the thought that there

probably wasn't much he could have done.

Anderson walked back, holstering the gun. "Get

in the car, Mr. Carter."

Carter didn't react.

68

NICK CARTER

"l said, get in, Mr. Carter!"

Reluctantly, Carter climbed into the jeep's pas-

senger seat, Anderson got in behind the wheel and in


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probably wasn't much he could have done.

Anderson walked back, holstering the gun.

in the car, Mr. Carter."

Carter didn't react.

"Get

68

NICK CARTER

"l said, get in, Mr. Carter!"

Reluctantly, Carter climbed into the jeep's pas-

senger seat, Anderson got in behind the wheel and in

a few seconds they were alone, rumbling over the

grass toward camp.

S' That was a very stupid thing to do," said Ander-

son, making a visible effort to control his anger.

' 'Those other men would have gladly killed you. I

probably should have let them, but I still don't know

what you're doing here and until I find out, I want

you alive."

Carter stared at the way ahead, He'd long since

come to the conclusion that conversations with An-

derson were too one-sided to yield anything useful,

had you figured for more brains than that,"

Anderson went on sullenly. "Of all the stupid

stunts

As Anderson grumbled away, Carter was consid•

ering his position. The situation had become in-

tolerable. No matter how inaccessible Perlman's

secondary camp was, he was going to have to make

the effort to get there and find Perlman. He couldn't

afford to waste time here any longer.

Carter suddenly became aware that Anderson had

stopped talking. He must have realized Carter wasn't

listening. Carter looked over and found him staring

angrily out the windshield.

"Where's Perlman's second camp?" Carter asked

bluntly.

"What?" said Anderson, obviously having been

pulled from a hard-driving train of thought.

"Where is Perlman's secondary camp? How do I

get there?"

'U You don't. "

"Why not?"

"Because you need supplies and a good guide and

no one here is going to provide you with those things.


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"Because you need supplies and a good guide and

no one here is going to provide you with those things.

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69

But principally you don't go because won't let you.

From now on you are under camp arrest. You're not

to leave your building until I figure out what to do

with you."

When they got back to camp. Anderson dropped

him at Perlman's quarters, gave his guards a few

extra instructions, and drove off.

Carter went to the door alone. When he opened it,

all the hot air that had been accumulating inside all

morning rushed out and hit him in the face.

He went in, unbuttoned his shirt, and sat down on

the bed to consider his situation. There was obviously

something very shady going on here, something with

much more potential for danger than even David

Hawk had realized. Every cell in Carter's brain and

every nerve in his body distrusted Colonel James

Anderson, whoever he might be. And with the death

of General Stroessner and the collapse of the present

Paraguayan government so clearly in the cards,

Carter could not afford to leave Anderson to what-

ever littie game he might be playing. It was vital that

he solve this mystery before something prejudicial to

American interests occurred in Paraguay.

And that meant that he had to find Perlman and

the second camp. What could be going on there that

it had to be situated in such a remote place?

There was a practical side to all this, of course.

How was he going to get there? It would take some

doing just to get out from under Anderson's eye, but

then what? He had no idea where Perlman's second-

ary camp was or even in what direction to look. The

jungle was a vast expanse. He might wander for

weeks, never finding anybody.

He lay back and stretched out. A crude pillow had

been made from dried leaves sewn into a flour sack.

He lay his head down and put his hands behind it for

support. An object struck his fingers, something soft

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NICK CARTER


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NICK CARTER

and flexible. And another something as well,

something hard. He pulled both of them out to have

a look.

The hard object was part of the crude pair of hand-

cuffs that Sergeant Tiez had placed around the wrists

of the brave Indian girl who had escaped.

The second object was an animal skin marked with

a burnt stick. The symbols were crude but easy

enough to understand. One was a crescent moon, the

other a fairly faithful reproduction of a large palm

tree, There was a tree just like it that stood not far

outside the camp's perimeter.

The message was obvious. It was a summons. The

Indian girl wanted him to come to her tonight. And

he would be only too happy to oblige. Surely she or

one of her tribe could take him to Perlman.


SIX

The first order of business would have to be getting

out of the little house in which he was being held.

Carter got up and carefully examined all the wall and

floor joints.

The house had apparently been hastily con-

structed. Only the minimum number of nails had

been used to fasten the walls and floor. Finding the

nails was no problem. but getting them out without

alerting one of the guards would be another matter.

Fortunately Carter wasn't completely without

tools. Besides Wilhelmina, he had brought to South

America another of his trusted weapons. one well

suited to digging out nailheads. This was Hugo, the

pencil-thin but very sturdy stiletto he always carried

on his person. Under normal circumstances he hid

the knife in a chamois sheath strapped to his fore-

arm. A flick of the wrist and it was literally at hand.

But there were no long sleeves in the tropics, so he'd

had to find another means of concealment,

He pulled off his belt and began biting off the

stitches that held the two sides of the leather tongue.

They were specially designed and came out easily.

72

71

NICK CARTER

Then he took his thumb and forefinger and eased out

the blade.

It was exceedingly sharp, edged on both sides with

a tip of titanium steel.


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They were specially designed and came out easily.

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NICK CARTER

Then he took his thumb and forefinger and eased out

the blade.

It was exceedingly sharp, edged on both sides with

a tip of titanium steel.

He wedged it under one of the nailheads and began

to pry, whistling to cover the sound of his work.

Forty-five minutes later, the first nail finally

dropped out.

By nightfall four slightly bent nails lay on the floor

surrounded by scattered wood chips. Next to them

the floor seam sagged noticeably, revealing a thin

bow of light that reflected up from the grass under-

neath the house.

Carter got up and checked the guard in front, who

was standing nonchalantly on the first of the three

stairs that led to the door.

Then Carter went back to check the guard at the

rear. He was on the narrow back porch, in a chair

tipped back against the wall. His hat was pulled over

his face. Carter couldn't be sure. but he looked as

though he were asleep.

Carter went back to where he'd been working. He

pushed down on the floor seam and the opening

yawned even wider, a hole wide enough for a man to

slip through.

The nails clattered down the funnel he'd created of

the floor and clinked softly in the grass below. Carter

strained to hear if either of his watchdogs reacted to

the noise. Neither man moved.

Using Hugo to prop the hole open, Carter slithered

through, letting himself down into the space under

the house. The yard light was on over the parade

ground. It made long skinny shadows of his legs.

He reached back, grabbed the knife, and crawled

under the back porch. Then he held his breath and

listened. Over the buzz of the insects and the general


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din of the men relaxing in the mess hall, he heard

snoring.

Carter dashed for the shadow of the next building,

made it, and waited again.

The buildings were all in a row, the end one being

only a short distance from the jungle. Carter ran

from shadow to shadow until he reached the last one,

then he hesitated.

From here the trees were a good fifty yards in the

open with no cover. He peered around the corner.

There was no sentry. Apparently they depended

heavily on their electronic perimeter.

Suddenly he heard voices. They came from inside

the building. His curiosity piqued, Carter hoisted

himself over the window ledge to have a look.

The building was larger than he thought. Inside, it

was posted with huge No Smoking signs in three

languages, and as Carter pressed closer to the dusty

glass, he saw why. Two men were standing in the

middle of the floor, checking something on a clip-

board, and behind them were row upon row of

twenty-gallon gasoline cans.

So this was where they kept the gasoline for the

generators, Carter thought. And the trucks and

jeeps. But it looked as though there was an awful lot

of gas, even for those uses. The rows went on and on.

There must have been thousands and thousands of

cans. Why all the gas? Carter wondered.

He still had the knife in his hand and as he held

himself up to get a better look. the blade tapped the

window.

The two men inside looked up.

Cursing himself for his carelessness, Carter quickly

let himself back down to the ground and sprinted

across the open area to the dense foliage on the other

side.

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He stopped just short Of the jungle and lay down

flat in the grass. The men from the warehouse

weren't pursuing. Obviously the sound he'd made

hadn't been loud enough to warrant investigation.

Either that, or they'd gone for help.

In a few seconds Carter was on his feet again, run-

ning along the edge of the jungle. He kept running

until he found what he was looking for: one Of the

pylons that electrified the perimeter.

Carter had dealt with these before and he knew

they came in two types. The first type was on a line

with all the other pylons and took its power from one

central source. That type had an alarm system that

went off when any one of the pylons was touched or

the beam between them broken. The only way to

defeat a thing like that was to shut down the entire

system.

The second type had an alarm, too, but because it

was battery-powered and meant to be used in tem-

porary situations like field headquarters, one pylon

could be pulled out of line without affecting the

others. Of course, one had to be careful just how one

pulled it out.

Carter looked it over and was relieved to see it was

of the second type. He pulled out Hugo and probed

with its point along the metal seam in the pylon's

base. A tiny door sprang open, revealing the jagged

slit of a lock. This was the lock a repairman would

use to shut the pylon off. It depended for its security

on the fact it could hardly be seen. Once located,

though, it could easily be picked.

He smiled as he tripped the mechanism inside and

the soft whirring of the pylon stopped, but he had

only seconds before the secondary power source

kicked in. He darted around the pylon and out into

the vast dark jungle beyond.

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

The insects chirped and

growth, as he groped along,

75

chattered. The under-

was wet with dew even


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e srme as e trippe t e mechanism inside and

the soft whirring of the pylon stopped, but he had

only seconds before the secondary power source

kicked in. He darted around the pylon and out into

the vast dark jungle beyond.

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

75

The insects chirped and chattered. The under-

growth, as he groped along, was wet with dew even

though the temperature was still in the eighties. The

leaves slapped his skin and dampened his clothes.

The large palm was located at the beginning of a

narrow clearing. When he spread the ferns at the end

of it, he saw her waiting for him by the tree. She wore

a sarong of thick cloth and she'd arranged her hair

with white flowers. In the moonlight she was

breathtakingly beautiful.

She turned when she heard him approaching.

"Hello," he said softly.

She fell on her knees at once and pressed his hand

to her cheek with hers.

"No, no," he said, gently but firmly pulling her to

her feet. "Come on, get up."

She stood and for several moments simply stared

at him, her eyes filled with emotion. He tried to guess

what she was thinking. Gratitude, grief, but

something more. He couldn't imagine.

"How are you?" he asked. The cut on her face

looked clean and not infected. "You were not hurt

badly yesterday? "

She didn't understand him. Of that he was fairly

certain, but the gentle tone of his voice must have

conveyed his meaning. Large tears formed in the cor-

ners of her eyes, welled, and began flowing down her

cheeks.

He drew her close and put her head on his chest.

"Go ahead and cry. You've got a good cry coming."

They stood that way for what seemed to Carter to

be a long time. He had no wish to pull away from

her, but there were other considerations.

"Is there somewhere we can go? " he asked finally.

"I'm worried about the men in the camp. "

She looked at him quizzically. He gestured toward


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"I'm worried about the men in the camp."

She looked at him quizzically. He gestured toward

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NICK CARTER

the camp and pantomimed a machine gun firing. She

nodded gravely, took him by the hand, and led him

down a narrow path.

The path, he guessed, was probably an animal run,

although for all he knew it was a main thoroughfare

for the Indians as well. It seemed to go on for miles.

Several times she signaled for him to stop and be

quiet. Her sensitive ears had heard an animal prowl-

ing. During these moments they froze into whatever

position they were in and did not move a muscle.

Finally, when the danger passed, she signaled an all-

clear.

The path took them deep into the jungle, and even-

tually they reached an outcropping of rock. The path

ran along below the outcropping for several hundred

more yards, then Carter looked up and saw a cave in

the rocks with the light of a fire flickering in it.

They helped each other up the tiny steps that had

been chipped in the stone until they reached the

mouth of the cave. Then the girl rushed in, pulling

Carter in after her.

The fire was well to the back. Several figures were

seated around it, their shadows being cast on the

wall. two women and a man. The man was older, his

black hair flecked with gray, The women were

young. One of them was nursing a child.

They looked up nervously when they heard some-

one approaching and seemed relieved to find it was

the girl. They all greeted one another with a flood of

chatter until they saw Carter, then they stopped and

looked up at him fearfully.

For Carter it was like stepping back fifty thousand

years. The experience of sitting by a fire in a

primitive cave was part of the racial memory of every

living person. He was fascinated by the associations

and feelings it brought to his mind.

The girl explained to the others who Carter was.


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The girl explained to the others who Carter was.

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From what he could tell, judging by her animated

gestures, she recounted the incident with Sergeant

Tiez in detail. The others stared at Carter intently,

the fear gradually fading from their eyes.

When she'd finished, the man stood up and

grabbed Carter firmly by the arm. This was ap-

parently a signal that they were to be friends. Carter

returned the grip and everyone was delighted,

especially the girl, who beamed broadly. Then they

all sat around the fire, the Indians nodding, chat-

tering, and smiling.

An animal leg was roasting on a spit. As a new-

found friend, Carter was offered the thigh. Carter

accepted gratefully. He'd forgotten how hungry he

was. He hadn't eaten since his meager breakfast with

Anderson.

The meat was unfamiliar but tasty. He refrained

from trying to find out what it was and simply en-

joyed it, tearing it from the bone with his teeth and

chewing contentedly.

His eating proved to be a source of amusement for

the women. They hid their giggles behind cupped

hands and poked one another.

And yet for all their laughter and good-fellowship,

Carter sensed an underlying gravity among them, as

though the smiles and joking were a way to avoid

speaking of sadder things.

These were bad times for these Indians, he real-

ized. What with the relentless pressure from An-

derson's men, each of them must have lost a loved

one or friend recently.

While Carter ate, the old man came over and

squatted beside him. " 'Ngai says you are not one of

the bad whites," he said after a while. "She says you

are a great ally and a powerful fighter. She says we

are lucky you have come among us. "

Carter, amazed, swallowed a half-chewed mouth-

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NICK CARTER

ful. ' 'You speak Spanish!" he exclaimed.

"Si. I have been to San Pedro, although it is a long

way and I would not want to go back."

"But you can interpret. Up until now I haven't

been able to understand a word anyone was saying.

What did you say her name was? 'Ngai? "

"It means flower of the forest. It is good that you

are here. 'Ngai has not laughed or smiled since her

parents "

"I was there. I've rarely

"I know," said Carter.

seen anything so barbaric or cruel in my life, and I've

seen quite a bit."

"We thank you for what you tried to do. But the

other whites, in the camp, on them I spit. "

"You have good reason. But tell me, how long has

this been going on? How long have your people been

massacred like this?"

s 'A long time, sehor. The whites push us deeper

and deeper into the jungle. They make an outpost.

The outpost becomes a city and the Indians are killed

off. They shoot us down like dogs. They have no

mercy on us."

"l see. But at the camp, has it always been this

bad? Have they always hunted Indians as though

they were deer or monkeys in the jungle? There is

another man who sometimes runs the camp, a man

with white hair. Does he let the men hunt you too?"

"You mean the white father! No, senor. When the

white father was there, the Indians and the soldiers

were at peace. It is only now that the soldiers stalk us

and kill us."

"You knew the white father?"

' 'Si. We talked many times. He was a good man.

He knew how to listen."

"Where is he now? Do you know?"

"No, senor. It has been many months. I have

heard he went to make another camp at the bend in

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"Si. We talked many times. He was a good man.

He knew how to listen."

"Where is he now? Do you know?"

"No, senor. It has been many months. I have

heard he went to make another camp at the bend in

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79

the river, but I do not know this for sure. If he did,

he has not come back."

S' You know this place, the bend in the river?"

"Si. know it well. "

it far?"

' 'A day's walk. Do you wish to go there, senor?"

"Yes, I do. Could you take me?"

i 'Si, senor. J am old, but for a man as great as you,

I will gladly walk a day. We leave in the morning if

you like."

"Thank you. And thank you for the food. "

J' The gods provide, sehor. They give to me, and I

give to you. "

"Thank you anyway. Do you know the man who

runs the camp now?"

"Si. Anderson," he said, grimacing to show his

distaste.

"Does he know this place? His men will be looking

for me."

' 'Do not worry, senor. You are safe with us. You

may sleep there," he said, indicating a bed of animal

skins laid by the far wall. "Unless 'Ngai chooses

you," he added with a smile. ' 'in that case it would

be unwise to refuse. You would be her first. "


SEVEN

Eventually the fire was allowed to burn down. The

two women retired amid much smiling and giggling,

wrapping themselves in skins and drifting off to

sleep. The old man, too, after many meaningful

glances at Carter and 'Ngai, bid the two of them

good night and stepped behind a formation of rocks

at the back of the cave. In a few minutes Carter

smelled the tobacco as he puffed his pipe.

They were alone. 'Ngai stood abruptly and walked

to the mouth of the cave. Carter sensed he was meant

to follow, and did, sitting himself casually on a rock

beside her.

Making love to her was not something he'd

planned on. And now that it seemed to be looming in

the immediate future, he realized he had his reserva-

tions.

Not that she wasn't beautiful, of course. But the

gulf between them was fathomless. He came from a

world she could never understand or fit into. And her

world, as pleasant as it might seem, was far too con-

fining. Carter considered the fact that she'd just ex.

perienced a seismic emotional shock. Having been

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orphaned so recently and so violently, and having

been so close to death herself, Carter wondered what

emotions making love to her would release.

On the other hand, he thought . . . . On the other

hand .. . he wanted her. That, too, was an undenia-

ble fact the more he looked at her.

Below, the treetops extended to the horizon

beneath a sliver of a moon.

" 'Ngai?" he said.

She turned and smiled, obviously pleased he'd

learned her name.

"Nick," he said, pointing to himself.

"Nick." She tasted the word gingerly, then she

smiled. Apparently she liked it.

A gibbon called to its mate somewhere in the mass

of trees below. The sound echoed against the rocks

and they listened as it faded away.

The moment seemed filled with tension. Carter

knew what was expected of him. but how to ap-

proach it? She was unlike any woman he'd ever

known.

Lovemaking was lovemaking the world over, he

thought. He'd never been shy about it before. Just

the opposite, and yet she seemed so strange, so ut-

terly foreign. Flower of the forest. It fit.

His consternation, however, proved to be totally

unnecessary. She turned to him abruptly with a

puzzled look that seemed to say "Why are we wait-

. —then kissed him.

It wasn't much of a kiss—'Ngai pressed her lips

gently to his—but its very innocence charmed him.

He kissed her back, with feeling, forcing her lips to

part wide enough to admit the tip of his tongue.

This sudden intrusion stopped her short. She

pulled back and looked at him, her eyes wide.

Was that too much too soon? he asked himself.

But her eyes, while surprised, were also full of en-

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NICK CARTER

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NICK CARTER

thusiasm. She smiled, then closed her eyes, tilted her

head back, and opened her mouth slightly, waiting to

be kissed again. Carter obliged.

This timeshe responded. She pressed her mouth

against his, gently at first, then harder as she began

to experience her own increasing excitement.

They kissed for a long time. When it was over,

their breathing was a little ragged, and in spite of

himself, Carter could feel his heart pound.

"You learn quickly," he said to her in English.

She seemed to understand this meant approval.

She smiled and pressed her body to his.

"I have a feeling," he said, "that this is going to

be fun."

Carter had entertained fantasies ever since adol-

escence about making love to a "jungle woman." In

later years he'd figured they probably stemmed from

watching too many Tarzan movies and seeing ac-

tresses swinging through trees clad in animal-skin

bikinis. But now, as he kissed. 'Ngai a second time, he

realized there had been more to them than that.

Simple nudity alone wouldn't have been enough to

fire his pubescent dreams. And although before

meeting 'Ngai he would have been at a loss to say

what it was about a beautiful jungle dweller that ex-

cited him so, after kissing her and feeling her respond

in his arms, he was beginning to understand.

It was animalness, or the promise of it. The ability

to become aroused without the limits of "civiliza-

tion." To respond without thinking ' 'What will he

think of me?" or "Is it proper for a girl to become so

excited?" To let oneself go completely. He sensed

'Ngai had this ability and now he was eager to find

out if what he sensed was true.

Slowly, he nibbled down her jawline and began to

kiss her throat and shoulder. He started to work his

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

83

way down the length of her collarbone and toward

her breasts. When she realized what he wanted, she

started to undo the top of the sarong. But he stopped

her.


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'Ngai had this ability and now he was eager to find

out if what he sensed was true.

Slowly, he nibbled down her jawline and began to

kiss her throat and shoulder. He started to work his

THE MASTER ASSASSIN

83

way down the length of her collarbone and toward

her breasts. When she realized what he wanted, she

started to undo the top of the sarong. But he stopped

her.

"Better to take it a little at a time," he whispered.

"Lie back. Luxuriate in it. We've got all night."

And although the words were no doubt mean-

ingless to her, she'd already accepted the role of

pupil, and she was more than willing to relax and let

him instruct.

He eased the cloth back to reveal the flat hollow of

her chest between her breasts. He ran his tongue

down it. She whimpered with excitement.

Ah, he'd been right, he thought. There was an

animal in her, just below the surface. It was simply a

matter of coaxing her out.

He pushed the cloth back still further. The beau-

tiful curves of her breasts appeared in the moonlight.

He remembered how lovely he'd thought they were

the day he'd first seen her on the path by the river.

Perfectly formed with their darker circles of nipple.

He covered one now with his mouth.

She moaned and recoiled as though touched by a

live wire. For a split second Carter wondered if

maybe somehow he'd hurt her, then she grabbed the

back of his head, mashed him onto her chest, and

began to squirm wildly.

If up until now Carter had been exercising a

measure of control, he now relinquished it—gladly.

The animal he'd been working to unleash had now

emerged. It was time for both of them to ride the

crest of her desires.

He eased a hand under her slender body and gently

laid her down in a moss-filled crevice of the rock.

Her sarong had been loosened and now came com-

pletely undone. He stripped off his shirt and pants.

But although they were nude, he was still very


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But although they were nude, he was still very

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NICK CARTER

careful how he touched her. She was like an exposed

nerve. Every movement of his hand, even the feel Of

his skin against hers sent her into ecstatic spasms,

and he wanted to see, if he applied himself, just how

far he could drive her. How deep, he wondered, did

these female desires really run?

Her entire body was his to play like a grand instru-

menti He ran his hand along her. She shook and her

whimpering took on the rhythm of her shudders. She

shivered violently. It seemed as though she were

entering into another world, and yet he went on

stroking, exploring, and kissing.

It got to be a game to see how far he could take

her. Desire pounded through her in huge waves, took

her to heights, then dropped her suddenly and left

her panting and pulling on his hands to do it again.

And he realized there was no limit to the depths of

her response and this awed him. He wanted to go

with her, to lose himself as completely as she did.

For what seemed many minutes she had been pull-

ing him to her, begging him to come inside her in that

strange chattering language, and now he finally com-

plied. He positioned himself on top of her and slowly

entered her.

He'd been afraid he'd hurt her, this being her first

time, but she was beyond feeling pain. She actually

sighed with relief when she felt him, and when they

began to move together, she laughed—she literally

laughed—with enjoyment.

'Ngai woke Carter the next morning when she

rolled over in their moss-lined bed and sleepily

nuzzled his neck. He opened his eyes and saw that the

sun had risen behind the rock and was now casting

long shadows out over the treetops below. Some-

one had thrown an animal hide over them during

the night. He threw it back now and noticed the air

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was full of the smell of food.

85

A monkey jumped onto a rock by his head and

began chattering and hopping up and down.

"Shh," Carter warned. "You'll wake 'Ngai."

But he heard a laugh, turned, and found she was

already awake, looking at him with bright, happy

eyes. She spoke to the monkey and the little animal

chattered back, then leaped over a rock and onto her

shoulder.

"I see," said Carter. "You two know each other.

He's probably wondering why you're sleeping out

here."

'Ngai didn't understand, but she looked at Carter

and smiled while the monkey scampered back and

forth from her shoulder to her hand.

The old man appeared in the mouth of the cave,

carrying a black bowl of steaming something. He

came over and squatted beside them.

"All is well, I see," he said. "No one expected you

up so soon. You make a great deal of noise for two

people supposed to be asleep. "

He hastily translated for 'Ngai and she pretended

to be angry and threw a handful of moss, which the

old man dodged artfully, laughing.

"I brought a peace offering." He smiled at Carter

and handed him the steaming bowl, which Carter

now saw was a hollowed-out melon half that had

been blackened in the fire.

Carter breathed in the aroma. Fruit stew. It

smelled delicious.

The old man beat a hasty retreat and Carter of-

fered 'Ngai the melon. She drank and handed it to

Carter. He tried to drink, too, but due to the fact that

he was lying down, he spilled most of it on his chest.

She laughed, but when he started to brush it off,

she grabbed his hand. Moving closer, she began lick-

ing it off with long playful strokes of her tongue.

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NICK CARTER

Carter let it go on for a white, then he took her

lovely head in his hands and pulled her up, stretching

flat against his own. They embraced in


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Carter. He tried to drink, too, but due to the fact that

he was lying down, he spilled most of it on his chest.

She laughed, but when he started to brush it off,

she grabbed his hand. Moving closer, she began lick-

ing it off with long playful strokes of her tongue.

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NICK CARTER

Carter let it go on for a white, then he took her

lovely head in his hands and pulled her up, stretching

her lithe body flat against his own. They embraced in

a penetrating kiss that told him just how much she'd

learned the night before, and his hands began to ex-

plore her anew.

This continued for several minutes until her ex-

citement was almost what it had been earlier. Then

Carter entered her and the two of them relived a

memory.

It was more than an hour before they finally got

up. As Carter was getting dressed, the old man came

to him carrying a walking stick and wearing a satchel

that hung on his hip like a woman's shoulder bag.

"l am ready when you are, senor."

"You know," said Carter, buttoning the last but-

ton on his shirt, "I'm afraid I don't even know your

name. "

"I am called Lod, senor."

repeated Carter. He bent down to slip on

one of his boots. " 'Ngai says she'd like to come

too. "

' 'I expected it, senor. 'Ngai has been independent

like this since she was a child."

"Then you have no objection?"

"Not if it suits you, seöor."

' 'Good. By the way, my name is Nick. 't

"Nick," repeated the old man.

'Ngai appeared over the top of the rock wearing

the same animal-skin dress she'd worn when she was

captured. She looked lovely. Her long black hair had

been combed until it gleamed and she'd fixed a new

ornament of flowers, red this time.

She, too, carried a walking stick. She held it up

to them, as if to show her preparedness, then side-

stepped down the crude stone stairway until she was

next to them. She said something to Lod, then


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reparedness,

en st e-

stepped down the crude stone stairway until she was

next to them. She said something to Lod, then

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87

grinned at Carter, and continued on down the path

toward the jungle below.

"l guess we're going," said Carter.

"Si, senor,"

said Lod, falling into line behind

'Ngai. Carter took up the rear.

"Lod," said Carter, after an hour or so of walk-

ing, "l still worry about the men at the camp."

' 'Do not, senor. They will not expect you to go in

this direction. They will look for you upriver. Be-

sides, they themselves will not want to go downriver.

we are stronger there. "

"Si, the Indians. We have been moving steadily

downriver for years. There we outnumber them. "

"How many Indians are there? "

' 'In my tribe?"

"In all the tribes."

"Many, senor."

"Enough to fill San Pedro? "

"More than enough."

Sometime after the sun had peaked they stopped in

the shade of a large tree. Lod went out to find some

fruit to go with the dried monkey meat he had in his

pouch, leaving Carter alone with 'Ngai.

They still lacked a common language, but Carter

conquered the problem with pantomime. He acted

out his surprise and delight at having found her next

to him in the morning and how she'd coyly licked his

chest to show him she wanted him again. She laughed

until she was weak, and Carter worried that if any of

Anderson's men were in the jungle looking for him,

they'd know right where to come.

Lod came back shortly with his arms full of

mangoes, and in a few minutes they were all eating

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As he ate, Carter watched 'Ngai. She was such a

lovely girl, so resilient and strong. She was carrying

on bravely even in the face of her parents' and

brother's brutal deaths. Surely it couldn't be easy for

her. He wondered what kind of future awaited her.

Then he reflected grimly that if she continued to

live in the jungles of Paraguay, she'd probably have

no future at all, or at best one filled with fear and

mistrust.

It was a hard life. A hard life all around.

Later on, as they were walking, Lod asked him

what he would do if the white father were not in the

new camp.

"I don't know," replied Carter. ' 'My orders were

to find him. If he's not there, I suppose I'll have to

keep looking."

He said this, then a few minutes later he thought

how absurd it was. He had been sent to kill Perlman

because officials in Washington had decided Perlman

was a threat to the political stability of Paraguay.

But if Perlman could not be found and had not been

in camp for several months, how could he be a threat

to Paraguay?

The point, it seemed to Carter, was to prevent the

camp from falling into the wrong hands. But the

camp was in Anderson's hands now. Why was

Anderson there and what did he plan to do with it?

Only Perlman knew for sure. Carter could only hope

he found his old teacher alive.


EIGHT

It was almost dark by the time they reached the

bank of the Paraguay River. Carter stared out at the

rushing water. He'd almost lost his life in that

treacherous current. If he lived to be a hundred, it

would never be his favorite river.

'Ngai stepped onto a rock, stooped, and took a

handful of water. She spread it over her face.

' 'How much further?" Carter asked.

"There's the bend, senor," said Lod, pointing.

Half a mile downriver it looked as though the river

stopped in a stand of trees. Actually it took a sharp

bend to the left, but from where Carter was standing,

the second leg couldn't be seen.

"And the camp is just beyond that?"

As they approached the bend, Carter began to get

a bad feeling. The area looked and felt deserted.

There was no evidence that a camp full of men and

equipment was nearby.

By the time darkness fell, they'd found what ap-

peared to be the vestiges of a road. Thick weeds had

grown up in it, but it was obvious where the jungle

90

89

NICK CARTER

had been pushed back to let vehicles pass.

Walking along it was difficult. The weeds were

shoulder-high and the three of them had no machete.


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