# Triple Cross2222

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engine already out and beginning to ence up on the

brakes.

I jumped.

I landed qat on top of the third car from the end.

r bounced, slid backwards and sideways, the mag-

netic grippers fighting to hold.

The train was already picking up speed as it

plunged down the steep grade toward the plain.

My legs dangled off the side, slipping.

I drew my hees up, pressed my feet hard against

the steel top of the car and leaned all my weight on

the magnetic grips. They held and I stopped sliding

as the express hurtled past a signal that missed my

flailing feet by inches.

Breathing hard in the darkness of the plain, I lay

motionless. The train was doing sixty and still accel-

erating. But I was moving with it now, my inerda no

longer pulling me backwards, and I released the

•magnetic grippers. I bked them to my belt, made

sure I still had all my and began to crawl

forward toward the dining car.

When police—in any country—move a prisoner,

they ride him near the dining car to cut down on

the chances of escape or rescue in public corridors—

or to give themselves a shorter trip for food if they

feed him in a compartment. Police are the same any-

where at any time.

Three cars back from the diner I the mag-

netic grips to my boots and hung down over the

edge to peer into the «)mpartments. I had an hour

to find Mike Rush, no more. It was slow work hang-

ing off a fast train where signal poles, or anything

else along the track, could slice me off like a scythe,

but the less time I was inside the train the better,

and I got lucky. In the last compartment of the sec-

ond car back from the diner Mike Rush sat alonel

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His eyes were closed as if asleep and he was

handcuffed to the seat, but there were no guards in

the compartment. were out in the corridor; I

could hear them laughing. A mistake.

On top of the speeding car I crawled forward to

the connecting vestibule, picked the door lock, then

swung inside through the open half door. I waited

on the creaking, clang.ng platform that joined the

cars. No one came from either car. Inside the car the

corridor turned sharply left. I drew Wilhelmina,

stepped inside, and around the corner.

At the far end of the swaying cnrridor two police

guards stood smoking. Secure in the speed of the

express hurtling through the dawn, they were

relaxed, the flaps buttoned on their pistol holsters. I

started around the corner—and jumped back.

A tall blonde in an elegant black pants suit had

come into the car at the other end She smiled at the

two guards.

Tall and slim, she was a long way from skinny.

ne woman was full and solid, with high breasts,

and the build and movement of an athlete. The

smile, dazzling blond bair, and chic pants suit be-

longed on the cover of some slick fashion magazine,

but the sense of power In her body and her motion

could easily be that of a swimmer or slder.

ne two guards grinned as she stopped to talk to

them.

1%ey were still grfnnlng when they dropped.

The blonde had taken what looked like a vial of

spray perfume from her purse. It wasn't perfume.

She hit each of the guards with a single quick puff in

the face and they were flat on the corridor floor.

Ille blonde looked around, saw the corridor

empty and silent, and bent down at a compartment

door. She had a picklock

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Mike Rush was inside that compartment—hand-

cuffed I

I sprinted down the corridor as silently as I could.

I was five feet from her when she heard me.

She looked up, jumped back as quickly as a

trained featherweight and raised the aerosol vial.

I went in under the aerosol fn a long dive and hit

her solid center. She was no daisy. Her belly was al-

most as hard as mine, but I had the weight. I

knocked the wind out of her, the vial flew across the

corridor, and before she could make any move I hit

her on the side of that dazzling head with my

Luger. She went down and out, thin blood in the

blond hair.

The corridor was silent again.

But for how long?

checked the two guards. T didn't how what had

been in that vial, but they were tX)th dead. Some

blonde.

'ITe vial in my pocket, I used my own picklock

and slid open the compartment door. Mike Rush

wasn't sleeping now. He sat staring at the open

doorway and me, his eyes Rat, his face rigid. I

dragged the guards into the compartnent, carried

the blonde inside, and locked the door.

"Hello, Mike," I said. "You remember me?

"Carter," be said. •you didn't. waste time, did

He didn't smile, or seem excited by my appear-

ance, or even ask me to get his handcuffs Off. I

watched him.

•you expected me?" I said.

ÜI expected someone."

Tana got word about me to you?'

'Diana is in Athens and I'm here," be said. "I

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hew they/d send someone. The CIA, State, Army

intelligence. One or all."

"I'm not CIA or Army," I said.

"A Pentagon desk jockey," he said. Sure.

are you really, Carter? Who do you really work for?"

Something was wrong, out of line. Rush wasn't

acting right. He should have been excited, seeing

the bope of rescue. He should have been glad to see

me, glad that he wasn't forgotten and abandoned,

glad that someone from home had reached him. In-

stead he sat stiff and expressionless, his voice cold

and harsh, almost attacking me for having come.

ÜNever mind what I am," I said. Tm from your

side and rm here. I know why I'm here. YVhy are

you? Why did you come into Albania?"

€1 was kidnapped by bandits on the Greek side,"

Rush said, his voice flat and dull. They brought me

into Albania. I escaped from them and the Albani-

ans picked me up."

"The bandits gave you German papers? An Al-

banian entry permit? A sniper rifle and ammo?"

"I gabbed a pack when I escaped, I didn't know

what was in it."

"You grabbed a list of the Albanian government,

too? With the Defense Minister's name checked off?"

"I must have," Rush said.

CA Defense Minister who just happens to be a fa-

natic world Communism militant? An enemy of the

United States and the Soviet Union? A rising force

in Albania?"

Rush sat silent, watching me from stony eyes.

"A gun tycoon and a congressman were killed

by 'robbers' back in the States. You had a meeting

with each Of them not long before the 'acci-

dents' happened. Coincidence?"

gI meet a lot of people on State Department

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business," be said. "A lot of them are congressmen

and tycoons.-

"Diana covered for you fn Athens, said you were

in %essaloniki at a meeting, kept me busy. All that

just for a little visit by you to the Greek part of Ma-

cedoniar

"Ask Diana. She has her own work."

"She's vanished."

He said nothing, but this time his eyes flickered.

Tell me about Blood Eagle, Rush," I said.

Some Amerindian chief, Carter? Or maybe a

bird?"

"How about Stig

gA seller of guns and death. I how nothing about

"Diana seems to,- I said. naaybe that's why she's

gone."

His eyes flickered again, but this Mme it wasn't a

reaction to what I'd said. I heard the sharp noise be-

hind me! Still facing Mike Rush, I threw myself

down and sideways and •turned as I fell with the

Luger out in front in both hands.

There was nothing behind me.

I hit on my left shoulder and scrambled up in-

stantly.

Nothing at all behind me except the open com-

partment door. Open! The tall, athletic blonde was

gone.

"Goddamn!" I cursed, and jumped to the open

door.

The corridor was deserted. To the right, in the

next car, I heard the sound of someone running

away. I whirled on Rush.

"You saw her," I snapped. -you let her escaper

He didn't move.

"Who was she, Rush? What was she doing here?

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She was coming in to find you. Why? Someone

you're working with?"

"I never saw her before," he said coldly.

eve?ho are you worldng for? Not the State Depart-

ment now, not officially. Denka Vortov is in Greece.

Why?"

Tortov?" His eyes flickered once more, startled

this time. Or was it a trick? "In Athens? Diana has--?"

He stopped, began to chew on his lip. Somewhere

in the next car I heard voices. Loud voices, angry,

and coming toward me. I stepped to Mike Rush,

took out my picklock to open his handcuffs. He

jerked back, hi.s dark eyes suddenly flashing.

"Get away!" be cried.

erm getting you out of here," I said. arve got a

submarine meeting us on the coast in two hours.

We'll—n

The voices were coming closer in the next car and

I could hear them talking in Albanian. They knew

someone was freeing Rushl The blonde had blown

the whistle on me. I moved closer to Rush, reached

for the handcuffs.

He began to yelll

"In here! CIA agent! American spyr

I stared at him, but I had no time to ask questions

now. He didn't want to escape, and it wouldn't do

any good for me to join him in an Albanian prison. I

ØAmerican spul Ilelpr

I ran along the swaying corridor of the hurtling

express, the sun up outside the long windows now.

Behind me I heard the car door open at the other

end, the voices loud. I reached the turn in the cor-

ridor, flung open the door to the vestibule, and

swung out and up to the top of the car again. As I

passed, I pulled the emergency cord.

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I clung to the steel surface of the top of the car as

the engineer slammed on the brakes. The screaming

deceleration almost pulled me off the car, but I hung

on until the express was down to less than twenty

miles per hour, and then I jumped.

In the brush I didn't look back. I heard them yell-

Ing and saw them jumping off to chase me, but no

one was going to catch me now.

Two hours later I was swimming a mile off shore

when the submarine surfaced ten yards away like

some great sea monster;


CHAPTER EICHT

Four swabbies hauled me aboard, tumbled me down

the forward hatch, and the boat dove before the

hatch was down. I took a last faceful of Adriatic

water, but noted happily that no Albanians were in

sight by land, sea or air.

Four hours underwater and we rendezvoused

with the aircraft carrier on which David Hawk was

waiting. Alone in the Admiral's quarters, be listened

to my report. He puffed morosely on his stogie until

it glowed like a volcano ready to erupt.

"So Rush is working for someone else," he

growled.

*Maybe, maybe not," I said. told Rush about

the sub; he could have had the Albanian Navy there.

He didn't."

"You think he's working both sides?"

"Maybe part of both sides," I said. "Not everyone

In our sweet government likes how it's: being run.

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Maybe we've got some secret dissidents in high

places making their own policy, their own deals,

their own diplomacy—with bullets."

Hawk's voice was low and hard. "Then we had

better find out before thcy plunge the whole world

into chaos."

In fifteen minutes I took off in a Navy jet, and less

than an hour later set it down at the Athens airport.

My Maserati was waiting for me. I drove it into the

city in time for a late lunch, if I'd been hungry. I

wasn't. It wasn't food I needed now, it was Diana

Rush.

nere was action at the downtown building where

The Institute For Permanent Peace had its offices.

Scholarly-looking men from many countries were go-

ing in through rows of pickets and ranks of police

were there with their clubs out. The pickets were a

ragged lot, Communists and Fascists yelling at each

other, and their yells didn't have much heat. It was

a routine show to let Ross and his peaceniks know

they were being watched by both militant sides.

Inside the shabby lobby a sign announced Inter-

national Peace Seminars and directed attendees to

the fourth floor. I followed the straggling stream of

men past the Institute's offces to open double doors

at ,tbe far end of the fourth floor hallway. It was a

small conference room where a turbaned Sikh was

speaking from a shabby platform decorated with

United Nations flags. John Ross sat behind the Sikh

on the platform. He saw me come in and his eyeo

brows went up in question.

I made signs that I wanted to talk. He nodded,

then motioned for me to follow him. He came down

from the platform to a door at the side. I followed

him through it. We were in his private offce. He sat

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behind his desk, massive and frowning, his red hab

like a shaggy halo in the afternoon sunlight.

OHave you located her?' he asked. "Diana?

"I was hoping you had." I sat down facing him.

He shook his head. "Not a whisper. I'm really wor

ried. Where could she have vanished to, Carter,

why? That worries me the most—why has she van

ished?"

I wasn't about to tell him anything about Mik

Rush. I didn't have to. He told me.

"You've heard about her husband? In Albania

Some kind Of international incident?

"I've heard," I said. "How did you hear?"

The big Scot shrugged. "We have our contacts

eb? Not as good as I'd like, but adequate. It seem

it happened some days ago and I still haven't a hin

about the details. What Rush did, for whom, wha

he hoped to accomplish, all that. Do you?'

"All I know is that the Albanians are holding hir

probably as some Hnd of spy," I lied. 'Do you hos

about anything he and Diana might be mixed U

"No, nothing. I hardly know Rush himself."

"Did Diana ever mention a man named Vortovr

The massive philosopher sat bolt upright. "Denk

Vortov? You mean the NKVD leader? No, neve

Have you any reason to even suggest such a cot

nection? A shred of evidence?"

"Vortos/s in Athens and seems interested in m

search for her."

Ross was silent. see. But that's hardly evidenc

that Diana is involved with Vortov."

*Maybe not," I agreed, -but I know she's involve

with Stig Suderman."

"Suderman!" Ross went so rigid he almost cam

up out of his chair and his brilliant eyes flashed wit

cnoss

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a depth of hatred I could almost feel. nen he slowly

sat back. "How do you know?"

I told him about what had happened at The Peg-

asus Club, part of it anyway. I didn't mention the

man I'd killed. Ross listened with those deep, pained

eyes watching something over my left shoulder.

When I finished, he slowly nodded.

"I how Stig Suderman and despise him. He is

what is wrong, the disease and corruption of this

world, the cancer that lives on all that is the worst in

man and keeps all that is the worst alive. All the

Sudermans who keep alive in man the weaknesses

that prevent us from becoming what we could be,

grow rich on those weaknesses."

"Why would Diana be mixed up with Suderman?'

"She would not be!"

It was a cry of protest, of denial. I waited in the

sunny office with the distant voice of the Sikh dron-

ing on in the hall.

"We are Suderman's enemy- We are his danger.

ne peace- in man, the sense of value," the massive

Scot said. "I have always been aware that the Suder-

mans would by to stop us, would infiltrate and

destroy us if they could. will always fry, like

wolves smelling easy blood among the lambs. They

use us and discredit us both. We bring enemies to-

gether; there is always suspicion close under the sur-

face a Suderman could use."

"You think Suderman's using Diana? Using your

Institute through her? Maybe Suderman and Mike

Rush working together to stir up trade for Suder-

man's guns?"

"I want to say it is impossible," Ross said, his

sharp eyes burning under his thick red hair like

some ancient Highland Chieftan. "But I'm a realist,

eh? It happens. And more than Rush or Stig Suder-

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man could be behind it. There are many nations,

and factions within nations, who want violence and

wars to keep their power."

"Suderman likes someone to pay his bill," I

agreed.

"Quite," Ross said grimly. He pressed the button

on his desk and sat back again.

a Do you know if the Rushes needed money?' I

said.

"I don't think so. I believe Rush is well paid, and

Diana never speaks of money. Her needs seem more

of the spirit, eh? A great desire to accomplish some-

thing of value."

"Power?" I said.

He shrugged. 'Tat is always a danger among

do-gooders, eh?"

Before I could agree with that, the once door

opened, and Alfredo Stroesser came in. The stocky

Argentine-German's pale, expressionless face didn't

seem to look at me, but he'd seen me. In his black

suit, he crossed the office to Ross with his precise,

muscular motion. I wondered if he wore black suits

as a kind of atonement for his father's crimes. Or

was it as close as he dared come to an SS uniform?

'Tlas Mr. Carter found her?" he said, speaking to

John Ross—not to me—as if he had to go through

channels.

"No," Ross said, "but he's found that Diana has

been meeting Stig Suderman."

Stroesser turned to me and again I got a sense of

the muscle under his proper black suit. He hadn't al-

ways been tbe vice president of a peace institute,

the manager of offces. There was training in the way

he moved, in the fluid power behind the clerk's man-

ner.

"Suderman ? When? Where?"

"At ne Pegasus•Club. More than once."

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"At ne PegasusClub. More than once."

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Stroesser turned back to Ross. "Suderman would

do much to penetrate our group. He'd buy our

people, or put his own people in among us. Both if

he could."

"Can you find out, Alfredo?" Ross asked.

elll check the records for all new members, yes.

Look at our recent activities to see if anything seems

out of order."

'That could take some time," Ross said.

"But worth the time. Ill start here. Immediately."

When Stroesser had gone, his voice out in the cor-

ridor calling for someone to bring him the member-

ship files for the past year and to not disturb him for

the of the day, I got up.

"Ill keep on trying to find Diana," I said.

I went out through the meeting hall where a thin

Japanese was addressing the Peace Seminar and

continued on down to the first floor. It was late in

the afternoon, most of the pickets had gone, and the

rest didn't have much power left in their chants. A

half-hearted show—no one took peace goups too

seriously.

On the street I thought about where to look next

for Diana Rush. Maybe I'd have to make her come

to me. Somehow. But first, I'd check her apartment

again. You never knew....

A small Fiat came up out of the parking garage

under the building. I saw the face of the driver—Al-

fredo Stroesser!

Who was supposed to be at work on the Institute's

membership files. Who had given very loud orders

that he wasn't to be disturbed for the rest of the

day.

I ran up the street to my Maserati.

The big man came out of the afternoon shadows

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of the next building. His ham-like hand grabbed my

€You Gnd her yet? The little lady?"

His pale blue eyes and sunburned face scowled at

me. Jeb Hood from Big Spring, Texas. He was wear-

ing a business suit now, but still with the lanyard

tie, boots and broad white Stetson.

'No," I snapped, breaking away.

He grabbed my arm again and held me. "Maybe

somethin' really done happened to her?"

The Fiat vanished up the street.

I took Hood's hand off my arm. "What the hell are

you doing here?"

"I'm waitin' for her," the big Texan said. "Diana.

You got no idea where she is?"

"No," I said, "and waiting here won't help her."

Hood nodded moodily. -yeh. You know, I got

talkin' to old Ross. He's some smart kind of maver-

ick. Thinks his own way and tells it straight out.

like that. I kind of like this here peace outfit he got.

He's been showin' me all they tries to do. Maybe I'll

help them out some. Make me feel good, too."

"You're a convert to The Peace Institute?"

Hood shrugged. "Why not? Guess we all wants

peace. Anyway, I said I'd talk some more with Ross.

Adios, friend."

I watched Jeb Hood as he went along the street

and into the Peace Institute building.

Maybe he was just a common, ordinary, oil mil-

lionaire—and maybe not.

He'd made me lose Alfredo Stroesser,


CHAPTER NINE

Stroesser had looked like a man in a hurry. Why?

He'd just been told of Stig Suderman and Diana

Rush. I headed the Maserati to The Pegasus Club.

The Fiat wasn't there. I settled down to watch.

The crowds of Greeks walked shoulder to shoulder,

the traffc crawled along the narrow street, and

darkness came down over the city. There was no

sign of Stroesser.

I found a telephone in a restaurant, called The

Pegasus, and asked for Stig Suderman. After a pause,

I was informed that Mr. Suderman was not at the

club.

In the Maserati, I drove to the Rushes' apartment

on the back street near the American Embassy. As

usual, the concierge was nowhere in sight. I went

up, listened again at the door, and when I heard

nothing, let myself in.

There was no sound in the small, neat apartment

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and nothing bad changed. I went through all three

rooms. The bed had not been slept in, there were no

dishes and no meal debris in the kitchen, and in the

living room the dust was undisturbed on Mike

Rush's desk.

Wherever Diana was, she was hiding pretty damn

well! She seemed to have vanished.

I blinked, listened.

It was a small noise, faint. It seemed to have no

special direction, yet it was as if it were coming from

everywhere, but so low and small that it was coming

from nowhere. Not even a noise, really. Like part of

the air. Directionless.

A hissing sound. No, more like a light crackling

noise. Like water running, not in the apartment, but

far off.

I stepped out into the corridor to listen. If it was

water running somewhere else it should be louder in

the hall. It wasn't louder. It wasn't even there.

Inside the apartment, I closed the door and lis-

tened. It was there, low and insidious, like . like

a car cooling down in a garage!

I turned and looked at the television set. I walked

to the portable color set and touched it. It was

warm! Very warm, and the noise was coming from

it.

Both the small couch and one armchair faced the

set. I walked to the chair—the cushion was still

slightly indented and vaguely warm. Someone had

been sitting in the chair and watching TV.

In the last ten minutes at most!

Someone who wasn't in the apartment now and

who hadn't come down the stairs past me.

I walked casually back through the whole small

apartment. There were only two closets and both

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were in the walls between the rooms. "ITere was no

fire escape and no second outside door.

My glance finally stopped at the tapestry.

It was a large tapestry, worn and ugly, a shoddy,

modern machine-made hanging. Not a piece that

fitted with the rest of Diana Rush's taste in the

apartment, it hung to the floor, was four feet wide,

and the chair in front of it had been moved!

The marks in the dust were clear: the chair had

been moved and put back in place—but not exactly

in the same place.

Stepping softly, I got down and lifted a corner of

the tapestry. It covered a door into the next apart-

ment! At one time the two flats must have formed a

suite. I let the tapestry down carefully, walked to

the outside door, switched off the light, and went

out.

Going down the stairs I made enough noise,

closed the street door with a firm slam, got into the

Maserati, and drove off—but not before I'd managed

to see that the apartment next to the Rushes' place

had light in its windows.

I drove around the comer and no farther.

Close to the buildings, I slipped back. No one

could see me without leaning out a window. The

Rushes' apartment was still dark. I carried my shoes

as I slipped silently back up to the third floor and

into the apartment. I sat in the chair near the door,

Wilhelmina in my lap, and waited in the dark.

I didn't wait long.

There was a small draft, a creak of rusted hinges,

and a rectangle of light appeared behind the tapes-

The tapestry moved, was pushed back, and a

shadow against the light of the next apartment came

Into the room. I reached and switched on the light.

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"Hello, Diana," I said. "Where were we?"

For a moment she didn't move. Small, dark and

delicate, she wore a full blue skirt and paler blue

blouse. She looked like a schoolgirl who'd just been

called on by the teacher. Very small, and innocent,

and vulnerable, the long black hair half covering her

face, her small, high breasts rising and falling rap-

idly under the pale blue blouse like the breast of

some tiny animal on the edge of panic.

"Hello, Nick," she said almost a whisper.

Then she took a deep breath, and another, walked

across the room to a low coffee table, took a cigarette

from a box, lit it, and smoked without looking at me.

suppose I knew you'd find me," she said, her

voice now louder, clearer.

"You want to teil me about it now?" I said.

She turned. "I think I wanted you to find me."

Tou vanished, Diana. You've got a double apart-

ment—in secret. You lied about where Mike was and

what he was doing. None of that is accident, Diana.

All of that had to be planned, set up for a purpose."

on the beach you said—P

OMike went into Albania, Diana. He went in

secret, with forged papers, a rifle, and the name of

the Defense Minister checked off a list. Other men

who met Mike have died suddenly. I talked to Mike,

Diana. In Albania. I went to help him and he blew

the whistle on me. VVhy? Who are you working

with? Who's Blood Eagle? What's behind it all?"

The cigarette seemed to float in her hand. "W'hat

are you, Nick? Really. Not just a Pentagon desk

man, no. You're something else. You always were.

I said, "We can make you talk, Diana. A lot of

ways."

"Yes," she said. "I'm sure you can."

"Blood Eagle," I said. 'They, or it, or maybe he,

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is going to assassinate a high American official. ltVho?

When?"

For a moment she seemed to sway, on the edge of

collapse. I got up and moved toward her. But she

recovered herself, smiled softly at me, and then the

smile faded as the cigarette went on burning in her

fingers, forgotten.

"I can't really remember how it began, you know,

Nick? We were going along quietly, simply, doing

our work, and.... Sometimes, when I think about it,

it scares me. 1—" She shook her small head, the long

black hair flowing like some thick fluid, her eyes

wide and brilliant as she looked at me. "I'm so

scared, Nick. Afraid. Mike had to Nick? Make

love to me? Now? Make love to me here, right now,

before...

Mte stood close now. I sh.ldied her small face.

¯What scares you, Diana? What happened?"

"It's over now," she said. "I know that. YouT

probably hate me. Everyone will hate us and I don't

care about that. But you—?" Her clear eyes looked

straight up into my face. "I want you, Nick. Now.

You owe me that. I want it to be the way it was

back in Washington. Before Mike. Before ... this."

"Diana," I said, "tell me."

eyes," she said, ØI'II tell you.

Her eyes were suddenly deep and distant, wild

and more than a little irrational. The eyes of an ani-

mal, manic. Her lips wet and parted, full and glis-

tening, she tossed her long mane of black hair and

opened the buttons of her blouse. She wore no bra

and her mall breasts quivered high and hard, the

tight nipples thrust toward me, hungry.

"III tell you, Nick I have to tell you. It's over

now. I want you to how. I want you

1

want. ...s

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NICE CARTER: KILLMASTER

She let ber skirt drop. She began to cry, the tears

suddenly streaming down her thin face. She wore no

slip, stepped out of her panties, and stepped close to

me. The tears poured down her upturned face as if

they could never stop, and her parted lips turned up

to me, almost smiling as she cried. Half smiling, cry-

ing as if her despair was bottomless, and totally vul-

nerable, she looked up at me from wide, tortured

eyes.

I fought it, but r had to have her. Here, now, this

instant, if I died for it. (Damn met Damn Hawkl

Damn this—I)

"Nick, please—

I picked her up. She was as light as a child, soft as

an armful of air, and as hot as fire as her arms

clamped around my neck with all the power in that

small body, her face buried in my neck, her thick

hair like rich fur against my face.

In the bedroom there was no light. We didn't

need light. We didn't need to see, to have eyes there

on the dark bed. Our bodies were all the eyes we

needed, all the eyes she and I would ever need, and

on that bed there was nothing soft or delicate or

weak about her anym•more.

I cursed inside, swore at myself, but there was no

way to stop. Not now, carried on and deep inside

her by a hurricane of passion, of need, and power,

and triumph. Cursing and laughing at the same

time, feeling like some naked giant high on a great

mountain peak. Naked and clean and astride the

whole world!

In the darkness her small teeth flashed and

gleamed, and I could hear the thick laughter deep in

her throat, the savage joy, and it had been a long

time since it was like this. She was the earth, the

bitch-female. Isis, Cybele, Kali all in one, the great

CROSS

whore. Wild and mwerful.

insatiabl

75


75

whore. Wild and powerful, insatiable in her small

body, violent and hungry like a starving creature.

Like a starving animal that didn't know when it

would ever eat again.

All legs and arms and sweat and the deep, soft,

hot places where we thrust together, surging and

straining until I thought that any second I would

tear her apart, rip her into fragnents, both of us

sinking deep into thick, heavy liquid ... liquid ... a

great liquid sea of exploding fire....

I don't know how long we lay there in the silent

dark. A heavy dark still shimmering to the color of

violent passion. I reached for my shirt and my ciga-

rettes, felt her move beside me. I felt her lips, the

bare brush of a kiss on my cheek. I reached for her

thin body, but she had moved away in the dark, so I

lit a cigarette. In the glow of the match she lay at

the edge of the bed, her eyes closed, her small hands

folded on her breasts.

I smoked and talked. "Well tell Mike. This time

well tell him, Diana. But now you'll tell me. Maybe

I'd like to live here in the dark, just us, but the

world's not like that. I've got to how what's going

on. That's my job, Diana."

She didn't answer. I reached to touch her again.

She didn't move. In the glow of my cigarette, I saw

her face—and sat up.

Her face was rigid, her eyes open and staring, her

mouth open and stiff with discolored lips! Her

breasts were still, her folded hands unmoving.

Tana?"

But I knew there would be no answer. I smelled

the sharp odor of almonds—cyanide. The faint kiss

on my cheek bad been her goodbye. She was dead.

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On the dim bridge of the carrier, Hawk looked out

at the sea.

"Cyanide?" be said. "You let her? Let her fool

you?"

"I'd do it again!" I raged and stared out and

down at the long surge Of the dark sea. "Not for me,

for her! Her last touch of life. I'd do it again no mat-

ter what it cost!"

Hawk watched me. "She'd probably have man-

aged to take the pill anyways She didn't want to be

made to talk."

I listened for a time to the hiss of the waves. "She

loved living, sir. Whatever she and Mike were doing

must have been very important to them. As big as a

religion, a crusade."

"Unless it was only Mike who was important to

her, Nick," Hawk said. "Protecting him."

I reached into my pocket. Tis was on her fin-

ger.»

It was a large ring with a red stone. I touched the

side and the stone flipped over to reveal a signet—the

signet of a fierce eagle with a snake in its talons!

Hawk took the ring.

'The Blood Eagle," he said. He looked at me on

the dim bridge. "I'm sorry she's dead, Nick. But she

is and she can't help us. All we have now is Mike

Rush. You've got to make him talk. You've got to get

him out of Albania, or make him talk right where he

isr


CHAPTER TEN

Next to cyanide, the best way for an agent to com-

mit suicide is to go back into an enemy area he's just

come out of—after having been spotted. Not many of

us come out twice.

so this time the sub came in at night, poked only

its conning tower up, and I slipped over and started

swimming without a raft or anything elsé that might

leave a trail. I hadn't taken ten strokes before the

sub was gone. I was on my own.

I hit the coast a few miles from Durrös, buried my

wet suit, and headed inland. I wasn't a Captain any-

more; I was an offcial of the Communist Party—from

the north. It would do for local police and low-level

army men. For anyone higher, I'd have to play it by

ear.

I found a roadside inn on the outskirts of Durrés.

It had a telephone. I called Internal Security of the

78

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NICK CARTER: KILT-MASTER

Defense Ministry. Colonel Zilo Draja's omce wanted

to know what I wanted with the good Colonel.

"I want to deliver the red wine he ordered. It's

real French Medoc, but he must take immediate de-

Livery if he wants it for his Chinese reception."

There was a series of clicks, pings and gurgles.

Then a dead silence. I waited. I heard a small click,

and then a low hum—the line was on a scrambler.

Draja's voice was cold.

"Did you have to go to France for the wine?"

"No, only once to Algeria," I said.

"How dare you contact me at my—B Draja began

on the far end of the scrambled line.

'Never mind, Draja," I said, low and deadly.

Tis is N3. Meet me at the inn ten kilometers out

on the south road. In half an hour. Be careful,

Colonel, we've taken precautions."

I hung up without waiting. He'd come. He had to;

a double dealer must always know what is happen-

ing before he makes any move. I had to use him—a

spy in enemy country has to have his contact. Call it

a standoff. I waited out in the night where I could

watch the road in both directions. His car arrived

alone, without anyone else in it. Draia went inside.

followed in time to see them bowing and scrap-

ing and cleaning off the best corner table in the din-

ing room. Draja wasn't in a good mood. The tall,

massive man snarled at the waiter, tapped the table

with his fingers, and his good eye was almost as

black as his eye patch. I sat dourn at the table.

'You recognized my number—N3," I said. Tou

know who I am, who I work for. You had your fry--

catch Killmaster, a big feather in your cap. Worth

risking making the CIA mad. Only you missed, and

if anything happens to me now we've got it set up so

TRIPLE CROSS

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79

you'd be exposed all the way with no chance of

wriggling out. Got it?"

The massive Colonel swirled his wine as I talked.

He was silent a moment. Then he looked up at me,

shrugged, and smiled.

"It was worth the attempt, yes?" He shook his

head. 'The famous Killmaster himself from AXE, not

the CIA. Ah, who knows what promotion I could

have had? A hero, eh? The whole CIA connection I

would have explained as a clever nrse to catch just

such a deadly agent as yourself. A pity it failed, but

we go on, eh?" He grinned. "You need me."

"I want to see Mike Rush again."

Draja nodded. "Strange, he did not seem to want

to see you. It proves I was right; he is a Soviet

agent."

"Have you gotten him to admit that?"

g No, we have not." The big Colonel frowned. "He

appears to have strong resistance. Perhaps even con-

ditioning."

"Where is her

"A few miles from here. The labor camp." He

studied me. gI think I can get you a permit to inter-

rogate him as a party offcial. But win it help? He re-

fused to talk to you once."

'That's my problem," I said. "Let's go."

He smiled again. "Not together, my friend. You

will go alone to the vicinity of the camp. Here is a

map. I have marked the camp and another inn

where I will meet you at nine tomorrow. I will have

the proper papers. "Ille rest is up to you."

I left him drinking his wine, as relaxed as if he

hadn't a care in the world. Outside I found a dark

stand of trees and bushes where I could see the door

of the inn. I watched until he finally came out and

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Nicr CARTER: XLI.MASTER

drove away. You can never be too careful. I

went to sleep.

At a few minutes after dawn I was up and made

my way cross-country the few miles to the labor

camp. It was a series of low barracks on a flat, bare

plain surrounded by barbed wire and guard towers.

The approaches had been cleared, but a lot of the

bushes had grown back and several narrow gulleys

led up to and even through the wire. The guards'

quarters were outside the wire near the east-west

highway to Elbasan, and cars and trucks were

parked in rows in a motor pool.

The inn where I was to meet Colonel Draja was a

mile from the camp. I circled it once at a distance,

then went straight in. Colonel Draja wasn't in the

tap room. Denka Vortov was!

Vortov himself—and the tall, slim, athletic blonde

who'd killed the two guards on the train outside

Mike Rush's compartmentl Sbe was in an Albanian

Army uniform now, but I recognized her and she

recognized me. She bent close to Vortov, talking

low. The hawk-faced NKVD leader's lazy eyes

turned slowly to look at me. He smiled a faint smile

and I knew at once that we were both here on the

same mission.

Vortov said something to the blonde. She went

out a side door. Vortov's smile broadened as he sat

alone now, still looking at me. Damn Draja—where

the hell was he?

As if my thought was magic, the door opened and

Draja came in. He strode to my table, sat down,

and laid a folded paper on the table.

€You have orders from Hoxha himself to interro-

gate the prisoner Rush in ten minutes—alone," the

big Colonel said. "He has said nothing new about

who sent bim here."

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81

"Maybe be doesn't have to," I said. €Look over

there."

Draja looked, scowled. Took at what?"

I turned. Denka Vortov was gone. ne NKVD

man would be no more welcome in Albania than I

was, and he knew that.

Tortov," I told Draja. Tet's get to Rush."

The Colonel drove me to the gate of the labor

camp. My fake papers opened the gate fast and a

pair of army guards escorted me to an isolated bar-

rack behind an inner barbed wire fence. The guard

offcer there took me to a small room at one end of

the barrack and told me to wait.

Mike Rush came into the room alone. I saw his

guards take up posts outside the door as they closed

it behind him. Rush stopped when he saw me. He

patted his pockets •for a cigarette, then realized that

he had none in the camp. I gave him one.

'You're a cool customer, aren't you, Carter?" he

said as he smoked. "A lot of power behind you,

right? A lot of power and a lot of skill. Not CIA, not

Army. rve heard rumors, something called AXE.

Very big, very powerful, very hush-hush, very dan-

gerous. I must be pretty important to someone."

"Blood Eagle is going to kill a top American," I

said. Tou how who and what Blood Eagle is.

You're important."

never heard of Blood Eagle. I told you, I was

kidnapped—n

"By bandits, yeah," I said. "Denka Vortov is here.

In Albania, outside this camp. He's got an agent

who's probably inside right now. Is Vortov who

'The gather," Rush said. "You, Vortov,

who else?"

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"DO you have a hidden signet ring, too, Rush?" I

said.

"Ring?' He paled, the cigarette poised in the air

and forgotten. He knew that Diana had such a ring,

and if I'd seen—

She's dead," I said, hitting him with it.

He blinked, Ehen slowly sat down. "Dead?"

"In Athens. For what, Mike? For you, maybe? To

protect you? Is it worth it? You're the onlyone who

can tell—n

Rush got up, dropping the cigarette to the floor.

He stood for a moment as if paralyzed, staring out

the single window.

"Can you get us out of here?" he said at last.

€1 can try," I said. "You ready this time?"

He nodded slowly. "I'm ready."

"All right, take this." handed him the small pis-

tol all Albanian party officials carry. "I'm going to

call your two guards. When they take you out, Ill

jump the rear one. When he turns toward me, you

get him."

I drew Wilhelmina from its hidden leg holster,

held the Luger in my pocket, and rapped on the

door.

"Guards! You can take him back."

The two guards came in. One was a woman. She

took up position behind Rush as they led him out.

'Ilie corridor was empty. I dropped the female

guard with the butt of Wilhelmina. Rush flattened

the other as he turned. We locked them in the room.

"Front!" I snapped.

In the barrack office the offcer was at his desk Ile

tried to fight. I had to use Hugo.

€You killed him!" Rush cried.

«strip him before the uniform gets bloody!" I

snarled.

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83

Rush just stood there. Cursing, I got the uniform

off with blood cnly on the shirt and tossed all but

the shirt to Rush.

"Put it on! Now!'

While he dressed, I dragged the body into a

closet.

' We're going to walk out the front way," I said.

EDon't raise your head, don't hesitate, don't panic.

Straight to thé front gate. If they stop us there, then

we shoot."

I stepped out of the barrack talking intensely to

Rush. A guard opened the inner wire gate. As we

walked out across the wide camp yard toward the

distant main gate, I sensed the guard behind us! I

gripped Wilhelmina in my pocket.

"Don't draw a weapon, Mr. Carter, and don't hes-

itate," the guard said behind me. A woman. 'Xeep

walking slow and steady, keep talking to Mr. Rush,

and no one will be suspicious."

It was the blonde from the train who'd been with

Denka Vortov earlier at the innl I didn't have to

guess what she was doing here—she wanted Mike

Rush, too. Now I had two problems.

We went on walking toward the main gate. The

camp yard seemed a hundred miles across, a vast,

naked expanse of open space with the guards up in

the towers watching us. Three insects in a glaring

desert with a thousand eyes on them.

As we neared the gate, the blonde stepped ahead

and spoke to the guards there. The gate swung open

and we walked out. We walked slowly, deep in dis-

cussion, and I turned toward the guard quarters

outside the fence and the motor pool beyond. We

A shout! More shouts. A shot behind us!

'The gulley over there!" I yelled.

We ran for one of the dry gulleys I'd seen earlier.

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

It would give us cover and a place to fight from all

the way to the motor pool. we'd get a truck to

escape in and at least have a head start.

The fusillade of shots exploded behind us. The

blonde went into the gulley head first. I was right

behind her. She was up and running along the gul-

ley. I looked back.

Mike Rush stood up On the rim of the gulley. He

stood without moving, looking back—and a machine

gun burst cut him apart.

He fell into the gulley, flat on his back, face up.

He lay there, a mass of blood. He looked up at me,

his mouth open, the light fading from his eyes.

"Rushl WYhat is Eaglet Tell mel Who--?"

The .... the ... future," he whispered.

nen he was dead. Up at the edge of the gulley,

four guards aimed their guns down at me.


CHAPTER ELEVEN

ne automatic weapon ripped the edge of the gulley

like an unseen scythe. All four of the Albanian

guards went down, exploding in blood and bits of

flesh.

Iran.

I found the hidden gulley where the blonde

waited with her submachine gun.

We ran together.

"Dead?" she said. "Rush?"

"Shitl*' she swore in Russian.

She ran as well as I did, was almost as tall, and

pound-for-pound as muscular. Trained. We reached

the rows of trucks. She jumped into the cab Of a

high-wheeled command car. I opened the hood and

jumped the ignition. They were shooting and

shouting behind us, but they'd lost sight Of us after

the blonde wasted the four at the gulley.

86

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

"Head for that inn!" I said as I climbed into the

command car the blonde already had moving.

"Why the inn?"

ØV/e're not going to make it away in this car on

open roads—not in Albania. Not enough roads, too

many eyes."

She said nothing more, and as if to prove how

right I was, a pair of helicopters rose up from the

area of the labor camp behind us. I 'pointed, the

blonde nodded, and pushed the gas to the floor. I

hoped she drove as well as she ran. She did.

We reached the inn while the choppers were still

casting about in the air like hounds searching for the

scent. That's what they were, and as the blonde and

I slowed and drove as casually as we could into the

inn courtyard, one of them found us and turned in a

tight circle a mile back to swoop toward the inn like

something coming down a slide.

In a matter of minutes the chopper would be over-

bead and whistling up the troops on the ground.

ne blonde and I strolled across the still unalarm-

ed courtyard toward the inn itself, not that hiding

in the inn was going to help much once the copter

spotted the command car in the courtyard. No, what

we needed was a plan to get in and then slip out un-

seen, leaving them to search the inn after the birds

had flown. Or some way to send them chasing Off

Carter!"

The sharp voice came from behind the inn. From

the stables. Denka Vortov'

"Quick!"

The blonde and I slipped into the stables. Mo-

ments later the helicopters swooped overhead. They

couldn't miss the command car in the courtyard and

would set down within minutes. Inside the stables I

grinned at Vortov.

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87

"Hello, Denka," I said. mooks like we're in the

same canoe this time."

"An honor, Carter," Vortov said with a mock bow.

The blonde said, "Rush is dead. They shot him."

'The devil! n Vortov swore in Russian and cocked

his ear. Tall and thin, he didn't look like a strong

man, but he knew our trade. The helicopters were

setting dowm behind the inn. He handed us some

clothes. "Peasant clothes—put them on and hide up

there in the hayloft in a room behind the hay.

Quick!"

r said.

"I will drive the command car out and lead them

away. They will not catch me; they don't know what

I look like. If they find me, I have credentials. I will

be safe."

"You are sure, Commissar?" the blonde, Irina,

said.

Vortov nodded. "Once the way is clear, slip out

and follow the stream bed behind the inn to the

river about two miles away. Once there you should

be safe from immediate capture. I will find you later.

Go!"

We climbed up into the hayloft as Vortov ran out

Of the stables. In the hidden room we stripped off

our old disguises. I heard the command car start

and screech out of the courtyard. I heard it, knew

Vortov was leading the Albanians away, but I

wasn't thinking about Vortov.

Irina stood naked in the small, narrow room be-

hind the loft. In the slim suit on the train and even

in the army uniform she had been something to look

at. Naked, she made my throat as dry as a desert;

ber body was like a force squeezing my whole belly.

Her breasts were full, high and softly moving, held

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MCR CARTER: KILLMASTER

by powerful muscles away from broad, smooth

shoulders and flat diaphragm. Her belly spread

straight from hip to hip, taut female flesh above the

deep wedge of curling pale brown hair. Her legs

were almost as long as mine, as clean and smooth as

snow on an untouched field in bright winter sun-

light.

I watched her. She stood and looked at me.

For an instant the whole universe seemed to stand

nere was no sound anywhere, no movement, no

time or space or dimensions of any kind. Only a

timeless moment of instant light without past or fu-

ture.

She didnt smile. She didn't speak. Then the

sound of the choppers rising again from the ground

seemed to reach the low room from miles away, and

she bent to pick up the peasant clothes.

Her full breasts swung like thick, soft fruit. ne

helicopters roared away toward the west. Brakes

and tires squealed on the road, fading toward the

west. Irina stepped into the rough cotton underwear,

slipped into the voluminous petticoats of an Al-

banian peasant woman. Her breasts vanished under

the thick white cloth.

Time, space, and distant voices came back, and

we had work to do. I got into my peasant clothes. I

had a hard time with the pants buttons. Now Irina

smiled.

"You are a large man, Mr. Carter," she said. Élt is

sad that we are not compatriots."

" I II settle for friendly enemies."

Terhaps there will be time to talk about it some-

day," she said. "Now think the way is clear."

I listened. The only noise outside now was some

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89

lazy hammering. Occasionally there was female

laughter. They were peaceful sounds, not likely if

soldiers or police were around. Still, state

know how to play tricks.

"Lees see," I said.

We left the low room—more than a little reluc-

tantly on my part—and dropped silently down from

the hayloft. At the stable door I peered out cau-

dously. Two men were working over some ldnd of

wagon and serving girls were hanging up wash.

There were no police or soldiers in sight, no cars, no

sound of helicopters or planes.

"YVe can crawl under at the rear," Trina said.

Behind the stable the afternoon sun was hot in the

thick brush. The dry stream bed cut deep behind

the buildings, curved away, and beaded east. It was

the wrong direction for my rendezvous with the sul>

marine, but that wasnt due until midnight anyway,

and I had no illusions that it was going to be easy to

get across country this Mme. Mike Rush and the Al-

banian omer were dead, not to mention the four sol-

diers Irina had blasted, and the countryside would

be up in arms from here to the coast. The sub would

come at midnight for six days. I could wait.

The stream bed stay«l deep and hidden AS it

curved and twisted across the farmland. We moved

slowly to make certain we weren't seen by any

peasants in the fields or on the dirt roads. The sun

moved lower in the afternoon and we were almost at

the river when we heard them!

"Helicopters!" Irina said in Russian.

I saw them coming in low at right angles to the

stream bed, making long sweeps across the fields

and roads, then swinging back to slide down the sky

the other way; They doing a lot of flying while

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Nrcr CARTER: XILLMASITR

making little distance forward, and under the roar

of their engines was the lower rumble of trucks and

cars on the roads.

-ney're searching," I said. "Discovered Vort0'/s

frick, and backtracked past the inn to here."

"Driving us," Irina said, pointing.

Under the sweeping choppers, between the ve-

hicles on the dirt roads, a long line of foot soldiers

moved steadily ahead across the fields like African

beaters driving animals ahead of them across the

veld. And all we could do was run on, or go to

pound. We ran to the edge of the river.

"If we swim, theyT spot us," I said. "Fish in a

bowl."

The shadow of one helicopter swept over the river

even as I spoke. As it moved off to the north there

was nothing for us to do but burrow into the brush

of the stream bed and hope the soldiers would miss

us. It was that or fight. I looked at Irina. She already

bad her pistol out.

"I am a Soviet agent," she said. "I cannot be

taken. The Albanians would make too much, a large

incident."

"All right. WeT fry to take two of them without

the rest seeing, then fill in the line until we can slip

off."

She nodded with a small smile. She knew what

our chances were. We dug down, guns out, and

waited as the line of troops moved closer across the

fields. The second chopper swung in a long, low arc

directly over the river, banked sharply....

And settled down directly behind us where the

stream bed came out into the riverl

I sweung around, my back against the bank, Wü-

helmina out in both hands toward the chopper with

noss

its blades still whirling. Irina was

91


91

its blades still whirling. Irina was ahead of me, her

pistol levelled.

A head leaned out, "Quick! In the 'copter! QuickP

Colonel Draja!

"Come on!" I hissed to Irina.

We ran low, hidden from the troops and the ve-

hicles, and sprawled aboard the hovering chopper.

The second helicopter was making its turn far to the

north. For a split instant, no one could see what the

chopper near us was doing. Hands dragged us

aboard and the chopper rose in a cloud of dust.

"Stay down!" Draja snapped. He motioned to the

second helicopter as it swept past—he'd found noth-

ing. gewe will continue the search pattern until dark

Then III fly you out."

alnnks for the rescue," I said. "We must worry

"It occurred to me that you or Miss Kolchak just

might mention my name if caught—accidentally, of

course.

"How many sides do you work for, Colonel?" Irina

said.

So he worked for the Soviet, too. And who else?

•cso Mr. Rush is dead," Draja said. "Unfortunate.

I would have liked to know what was behind him,

and why."

gI think Rush did not want us to know," Irina

said. "I think he let them shoot him, wanted to die."

Another suicide to hide Blood Eagle? To protect

the memory of Diana, maybe? Or maybe just be-

cause Diana was dead?

"Did Irina began.

"Cave them the slip," Draja said.

Irina nodded, and we lay on the floor of the 'cop-

ter all the rest of the afternoon until it was dark

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NICK CARTER: rn.r..MA.STn

Some jets had joined the search and when Colonel

Draja set the chopper down. a small jet attack-

bomber was warmed up fifty feet away. It was a

modern military airfield, somewhere toward the east.

"Remain hidden until I return," Draja said.

As we waited, lying out Of sight, I heard the

sounds of people slowly fade away until there was

nothing but silence. Not even the sound of guards.

Far off a loudspeaker seemed to be booming to a

crowd. Fl%en Draja was back

They are all at a meeting, h he said. "Come."

We walked to the jet. *Ille instant we were aboard

the pilot taxied out and took off heading east for the

border.

'There is a small field on the Greek side," Draia

said. "I suggest that neither of you return. I could

not risk another rescue, nor «)uld I let you be cap-

tured alive. Understand?"

I wondered how much he would charge the CIA

and NKVD for our rescue. I didn't wonder long. Al-

bania is a tiny country and soon we were descend-

ing across a large lake in the moonlight. While I

stared down at the lake, a faint line Of lights ap-

peared ahead on the gounds Mountains towered

black all around, so close felt I could touch them.

But the pilot was good and knew where he was

landing. Down, Draja led us out onto the dark,

deserted landing strip. He took out some cigarettes.

"Have a smoke before you start walking," he said,

smiling at us. "It might be good to wait for dawn.

nere is a cottage over there where you could get

some sleep."

He pointed across the deserted field. A cluster of

stone houses stood in the shadow of the mountains.

Whoever had lit the field lights wasn't in sight. I

took a cigarette.

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And hit Draia flush on the jaw. He went down

like a rock.

'The mountainsl Run!" I hissed to Irina.

We ran.


CHAPTER TWELVE

"What has happened?" Trina said as we ran.

"A frap!" We reached the first slope of the dark

mountains. "If I'm wrong, I'll apologize."

We topped the first ridge in the moonlit night.

Over the crest I turned sharply left and ran parallel

to the field for a few hundred feet. Then I flattened

against the rocky ground and peered over the ridge.

We were almost directly above where the cluster of

stone houses stood.

"What are we doing now?" Irina demanded.

'Watch," I whispered.

The jet stood where it had stopped out on the

dim, ghostly field. Someone, it looked like the pilot,

was bending down over Colonel Draja who was now

sitting up. Two men in baggy pants and short jack-

ets came out of the shadows to stand near the

Colonel.

'They'd be the men who set the field lights for

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landing," said to Irina beside me in the mountain

night. g No wonder Draja didn't want them to be

seen.

"Why not?" Irina said, puzzled. look like

ordinary mountain peasants."

&l'he wrong kind," I said. wondered about why

we saw no one, and about the lake.'

"Lake?" Irina said.

"Lake Obrid, it has to be. We crassed only the one

big lake. If we were landing in Greece, we would

have to have gone over two lakes—Ohrid first, then

Prespa. And those peasants aren't Greeks. We're not

in Greece, Irina—we're in Yugoslavia!"

She was silent in the silvery moonlight as she

looked down at the silent field where Colonel Draja

was now standing. He was waving bis arms angrily

at the pilot and the two peasants.

"Draja said we were landing in Greece," she said.

eyes, and tried to keep us down there around the

field," I said. '*fiat's why I hit him. I could be

wrong, but I don't think so."

"Keep us down there for what?

think well soon see,- I said grimly.

They came out of the shadowed moonlight at the

eastern end of the narrow landing strip, a long

column of men moving in soundless single file,

emerging like some deadly snake from the black of

the mountains into the ghostly silver light of the

landing field. Bearded, mustached and hawk-nosed,

some of them wore the loose clothes of Macedonian

villagers and mountain men—Macedonians from all

sides of the borders. Others wore pieces of the uni-

forms of event army that had marched through since

the Second War. All carried weapons from those

same armies.

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"Albanian Irregulars?" Irina whispered, staring

down.

don't think so,- I said. •Not Albanian."

who?" Irina said. "From which country?-

Trom no country, if I'm right," I said, watching

the column of men below as they filed toward

Colonel Draja, their rear ranks still emerging from

the night.

"No country?" Irina said.

"Bandits," I said. Trom no country, and from ev-

ery country around here. Bandits, ex-partisans, free-

lance irregulars, private guerrillas without a cause

any longer. Macedonians who belong neither to

Greece, Yugoslavia, Bulgaria or Albania, but only to

themselves."

We watched them as the last man finally emerged

from the night. They formed a wide semi-circle

around Colonel Draia and the pilot with his jet.

'To themselves," Irina said, "and to Draja?"

Tess" I said. "Colonel Draja's army. You asked

him how many sides be works for, Irina. I think

we've got our answer. He works for all sides, and

only one side—himself."

"Under the uniform, a bandit leader!"

"Maybe more than that," I said as I watched

Draja talking to four of the bandits who seemed to

be leaders. "He's got a position in Albania, a private

army, and world-wide connection.s. Maybe it's just a

jumping-off point."

She stared down at the distant Colonel who was

inting now toward the mountains. "Why fry to

rold us, then?"

- I don't how—yet. But rm going to find—D

The sound was no more than a pebble rolling

dossm the rocky slope. Small, trivial, probably only

some small animaL Probably—and probably isn't

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good enough. Irina knew that as well as I did and

we flattened against the dark slope.

The tiny noise had come from our right, to the

east. Irina motioned with her head and hands—south

and east. I nodded. She slid backwards down the

ridge and vanished in the darkness.

I remained where I was. She had slipped away as

silently as a chimera, barely causing a change in the

shadows to show that she was no longer beside me. r

didn't look after her or toward where the pebble had

rolled, but went on watching the bandits and

Colonel Draja talking below in the moonlight.

There was no more sound—but there was sonW

thing moving on me, a presence like a weight. I

could feel the shape of a man displacing the night

air as he rooved toward me.

Two men! Close. I pressed my arm to the ground

and Hugo jumped out of my sleeve into my hand.

The narrow blade hit a stone with a faint sound that

echoed in my ears like a clang.

An echo that became a low, choked gasp.

Followed by a sharp, high cry.

Irina loomed up almost on top of me. She held a

thick, bloody dagger. She breathed deep and slow.

nwo bandits. ne second I didn't get right.

ne second had cried out and I watched them be-

low. Draja was looking up toward the ridge, yelling

orders. ne bandits were running toward us, spread-

ing out. If Draja was more than a bandit leader, I

wasn't going to find out yet.

¯West," I said. -They won't expect us to go that

way.-

There was no need to run softly now. 'ITe bandits

sweeping up the slopes and through the mountains

would make enough noise to drown our footsteps.

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West and south we angled down the rear slope of

the first ridge and up the next ridge. I could hear

them scouring the front slope of the first ridge,

sweeping south and in a wide, closing arc to the

east. They planned to trap us in a net.

Their net swung harmlessly past fifty yards away

and below where we lay on the crest of the second

ridge, as the shadowy line of bandits moved away to

the east and faded into slowly diminishing footsteps.

ne whole column moved away east.

On the moonlit landing strip the jet stood aban-

doned—or almost. Only the pilot was visible where

he sat smoking against a wheel, and two armed ban-

dits squatted and talked to the pilot. I beard them

laughing far off. It Was our chance.

"Let's fly out of here," I said to Irina.

We floated down the slope, up over the first ridge

and on down to the edge of the field. The two

guards and the pilot still smoked and laughed in the

shelter of the jet. I fitted my silencer on Wilhelmina.

Irina silenced her pistol We crawled out across the

dim field toward the looming plane.

I shot the pilot while he was lighting a cigarette.

Irina killed one bandit guard in mid-laugh and I

got the other as he fried to stand.

We waited five minutes lying prone on the open

field. No one else came from anywhere. The jet

stood waiting.

"Let's go," I said.

We sprinted for the jet, climbed in, and Irina

manned the machine gun that covered the field

while I took the pilot's seat. I hit the start button.

Nothing happened. I thought something had been

removed, but then I saw the fuel gauge—it was all

but empty. Draja hadn't wanted to draw attention

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by réfueling in Albania and hadn't gotten around to

it yet here!

eWhat is it?" Irina called out.

"I think the pilot's got a piece out and there's no

fuel to fly anyway. This bird we don't use."

'Then we better use our legs, and fast!"

gSoon," I said. "Keep watch."

The radio was working. I quickly opened the

secret emergency AXE channel and began to send

my private mayday signal, "Three-N Halfdan,

Three-N Halfdan, come in N-1 Donald." I sat tbere

and repeated it over and over. The radio would have

good range and this time I didn't care if anyone else

got a fix on me—the only immediate enemy knew just

where I was.

I went on, '%ree-N Halfdan, come in N-1 Don-

ald .D

returning!" Irina said quietly.

left the radio and we dropped out onto tbe dim

fiéld. In the distance to the east I could see the small

shadows of the bandit column returning through the

moonlight, spread out across the dark airstrip. We

had plenty of time.

'WeT make for those mountains on the opposite

side of the field," I decided. "North and west. Draja

should expect us to try for Greece—south and east."

Irina nodded, and we frotted away from the jet

toward....

Ille low roar came from the east, came fast and

grew suddenly louder and louder. I saw the blinking

lights low in the night, swinging from the far end of

the strip close to the northern mountains and cir-

cling the perimeter of the field.

Glaring searchlights stabbed down turning the

northern half of the field as bright as dayl

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•It couldn't miss us with thcxse lights!" Irina cried.

We were blocked from north and west.

Behind us now, south and east, the bandit column

moved closer in the moonlight.

We were Üapped.


CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The sweeping searchlights of the helicopter moved

in toward us and the jet, squeezing us toward the

advance elements of the returning bandit column,

steadily narrowing the band of darkness that cov-

ered us.

"The buildings!" I urged.

They loomed low and dark to our right at the

edge of the field. Neither the bandits nor the chop-

per had seen us yet. If we could reach the stone cot-

tages before !

We moved low, bent to the ground, as fast as we

a)uld without drawing attention by tbe movement

itself in the silvery light. The bandit column came

inexorably on and now I could see Colonel Draja

himself just behind the point.

The lights of the helicopter swept past the jet and

moved in toward the stone cottages.

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nere were four of them, am about the same size,

with low roofs and thick walls.

"I know this kind of peasant cottage," Irina said,

her voice as calm as ice, but grim. 'Tere will be

nowhere to hide, no cover. Just two bare rooms with-

out closets and we don't know which ones the ban-

dits will use. Probably all of them."

"We can fry for the mountains to the south

again," I said. "If we can reach them unseen, we--"

stopped. There was movement among the south

mountains. The bandit flank was coming down from

the ridge, cutting us off.

Out on the field the main column marched closer.

The hovering searchlights of the 'copter swung

nearer.

We circled among the dim stone cottages. My foot

struck something low against a cottage wall. I

looked down.

A heavy wooden door lay flat in the earth—la

hinged door that lifted up. I didn't hesitate, lifted it

and swung it up and open. A narrow wooden ladder

dropped into pitch blackness below. A well? A

cesspool? A tunnel to somewhere? We bad no

choice.

"In," 1 said.

Irina dropped down, barely using the ladder. I

lowered myself after her, letting the heavy door

down softly behind me. I bung in total blackness,

then slid down.

I hit on bard dirt not more than six feet down.

Hard and dry—not a well or cesspool, at least.

"Over here," Irina's voice said from some ten feet

away.

I bent and moved to the sound of her voice. My

eyes grew accustomed to the dark and I could make

out her shape standing with her bead almost

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touching the low ceiling. Slowly, the outlines of the

small room took shape. Less than six feet high, with

a ceiling of thick, hand-hewn beams, it was about

ten feet square and had dry dirt walls. There wa.s

nothing in it.

g A vegetable cellar," Irina said. "For storing pota-

toes, turnips, apples. Ws empty now."

ENot quite," I said, pointed to a pile of burlap

sacks in one corner and the thick canvas cover used

on a wagon. could come in handy; it proba-

bly gets cold down here. Give me your knife."

"My knife?" She watched me in the dark, hesitat-

ing.

"QuickP

Sbe handed me the heavy dagger. I crossed back

to where the narrow ladder went up to the heavy

trap door. I climbed up, found an iron hasp on the

underside of the door and drove the dagger through

the loop deep into the hard dirt wall of the cellar. I

dropped down again just as light swept through the

cracks in the trap door and the roar of the helicopter

passed overhead.

Moments later feet tramped bve us, a lot of feet,

and voices were laughing roughly. Some voices were

talking angrily and Draja's voice was swearing at

something. Deep voices answered him, and then a

door banged open and heavy feet came down on the

wooden goor of the cottage above our heads.

No one tried the cellar door—not yet.

•Perhaps they have already looked Into thfs cel-

lar," Irina said quietly. -Found nothing and will not

look again.¯

That's a pretty good perhaps," I said.

It was and it wasn't. If they'd looked before and

didn't again, that wa.s fine. But if they had looked

and knew that the trap opened, the Imife

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