# The Dubrovnik Massacre22

Лев Переводчик Шкловский

43

"Well, Mr. Jesse James, are we waking up?"

I didn't say anything. A huge, beefy man wear-

ing splattered sweatpants and sweatshirt came into

view. He made some final adjustments to the furni-

ture that had been moved against the walls, then

looked arouhd at me. I decided they were planning

to torture me. But my would-be torturer had dark,

kind eyes.

There are not many kindly-eyed torturers in this

world. Their profession marks them as clearly as

Cain for the suffering they inflict on their fellow

beings. It didn't make sense.

I looked at the beautiful woman sitting on the

table and I was sure she was Ankevic's daughter.

Despite what I had told her, she looked exactly like

her photographs. You can make a mistake from a

single photograph but not from three or four. AXE

never uses only a single photograph for identi-

fication purposes unless it can't be helped. I ran

through a checklist. She had known the code. She

had known obscure information about the Greek

origin of her last name. She knew the languages she

was supposed to know. And she was certainly a

chip off the old block.

I shifted my position ever so slightly. It told me

what I wanted to know. Not only did I have Waldo

and Pierre, but Hugo was still in his sheath. If I

made the right moves, with Hugo's help, they were

both dead. But that didn't make any sense. I

couldn't believe she had gone over to OZNA or

Uncle Joe's boys after what they had done to her

family. I decided to wait until I understood the sit-

uation better before I acted.

' 'So we need the help of a great Western techni-

cian, huh?" she said. ' 'Okay, Mr. Jesse James, here

NICK CARTER


44

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

is the deal. My father asked for you, but now he is

incapacitated and I must take over for him. I don't

want you. We have enough and secret pcy

lice in our country already. Yes? But I won't dis-

obey my father's order, so we compromise. If you

beat Ivo, maybe you can stay. If you lose, then I

have proved we don't need you and I am free to

disregard my father's order."

I craned my neck for a better look at Ivo. The

guy looked like a sumo wrestler. The furniture had

been moved back against the walls so nobody

would get injured. It was kind of cute. They

thought the contest was going to be like a boxing

match. Liberals! I wondered how they had sur-

vived all these years. Did they really believe Uncle

Joe's boys or the KGB or OZNA would jump in

the ring with them and play by Marquess of

Queensbury rules? I slid my arms closer to my

body and pushed myself up, keeping my eyes on

them both. I moved around a bit, loosening up

and regaining my balance. I wondered whether to

pull out Hugo then and there or wait until the con-

test was over. I decided it would make a better im-

pression to give a little demonstration beforehand.

"You're an amateur, honey," I growled. "You've

just gotten both you and Chubby over there

killed." With a flick of my wrist, Hugo was in

my hand. With another flick the knife was quiver-

ing in the table next to her leg. I said: "At this

point, you're dead. I now take three steps forward

to your corpse and take the gun from your hand.

Bam! Now Chubby is dead." I gave her my finest

grin and rested my case.

She stared at me and then pointed Wilhelmina

directly at my gut.


45

"Anybody can make a mistake," she said. She

pulled the trigger, but the moment before, she

jerked the gun to the right. I had seen it coming in

her eyes, and I jumped left. If I had jumped right I

would have etaken a slug from my own gun. I

picked myself up off the floor. As said, she was an

absolute chip off the old block.

"Okay, Mr. Jesse James, now that we have set-

tled that, why don't you have a try at Ivo?"

I looked at Chubby out of the corner of my eye.

I figured he was well on his way to being three-

minute hash. I shifted to face Chubby. He certainly

was built like a sumo wrestler. He watched me

carefully. I could tell he wasn't going to make the

first move. His gaze was steady, and he kept his

center of gravity low, which should have rung

an alarm bell for me. I decided to have a shot at

him.

I circled around him slow and easy, watching

him adjust his position and looking for that almost

imperceptible sign that he had shifted off balance

even for a moment. I wasn't looking for a big error

on his part. I figured just a tiny misstep would do

the trick. It appeared to come sooner than I ex-

pected. I moved in, hoping to grab his wrist and set

him up for a throw. Instead he grabbed mine. The

next thing I knew, I was hitting the floor like a ton

of bricks.

He had thrown me at a nice, painful angle on the

ummatted wooden floor. I must admit I was

shaken, but I twisted away from his grasp and

spiraled up to face him.

I watched his eyes as we circled around each oth-

er. I feinted with a left kick high to his midsection,

then feinted again with my right arm. My real shot


46

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

after these preliminaries was a left uppercut. I ex-

pected it to be partially blocked so I brought it up

hard as I could. It was a mistake. I landed on the

floor again, but this time he kept hold of my wrist.

I twisted my arm first in one direction and then

another, hoping to convince him that I could twist

free that way. Then I swung my right hand out,

reaching for a leg. He flipped me over on my side

and dragged me across the floor to keep me from

getting my balance. I knew he would have to stop

moving if he wanted to come down and finish me.

I had been fighting slow and lazy, but suddenly

I felt strong and fast. Using his arm as leverage, I

swung my feet around and slammed them against

his leg while I twisted. I grabbed his wrist and

pulled. Damn, I thought, he should come down.

He didn't. Instead I hung there like a string on

a bow. I was in more trouble now than before. I

pushed myself into him, twisting my back toward

him and bringing my elbow into his gut as hard as

I could. It didn't seem to faze him, so I slammed

my heel down on his instep, turned, and tried to

twist free. It worked, but I got a nasty blow to the

side of my head in the process.

I stood facing him, unsure of what to do next. I

felt like I had been fighting in a bowl of Jello. Ev-

ery one of my moves seemed impossibly slow, but

I knew it was an illusion. It was just that from look-

ing at his size and mass, I had trouble accepting

how fast he could move. His size and skill made it

hard for me to throw him, maybe impossible. I

circled him, throwing and pulling some karate

combinations. There was nothing behind any of

them. I couldn't take any chances he would grab

my arm until I caught my breath. I kept circling

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

47


47

him looking for an opening. He had great balance

and appeared fearless. I kicked to his left knee, low

and fast. He moved back quickly. I wasn't doing

him any damage, but he also couldn't get a hold on

me.

Then he made his first mistake. He glanced at

Katrina for a second, just long enough to throw off

his defense of my next combination. My right fist

came in sideways behind his ear. He felt that one.

I let him have a half dozen of my best karate

punches. He blocked like a champ, but even

blocked they must have hurt. I had the initiative

but couldn't keep it. We squared off again. I

moved around him kicking hard and low at his legs

every time he moved in toward me. It was like

fighting a mountain. He was a black belt and a

good one. One of us was going to get smashed.

I kept the pressure on his knees and legs, connect-

ing several times. They were conservative kicks by

any measure. I was taking as few chances as pos-

sible. He reached down and scooped me up by the

ankle, anyway. For a moment I hung weightless.

Then I came dowrf hard. Chubby moved in to

pounce on me, all two hundred and fifty pounds or

so. I kicked up at him and rolled, then rolled again.

I spiraled to my feet and threw a punch with my

right, straight across. He jerked his head back to

get out of the way, and.l kicked him in the left

knee. I ducked and moved around him as quickly

as I could, then gave him a side kick into the back

of the same knee. I was so busy I didn't see the

backhand headed for the bridge of my nose. I

dropped to one knee. I was stunned for a moment.

I bit my lip viciously and forced myself to my feet,

still dazed. I wiped off the blood with my sleeve


48

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

and kept circling, kicking low to the ankle.

I saw a small, solid-looking chair on one of my

turns, only a couple of steps away. I grabbed it and

threw it at him hard and high. He caught it in mid-

air, laughed, and tossed it back to me. I grabbed it

as it went by, crouched low, spinning all the way

around with it as fast as I could and let go. This

time I was serious. I aimed it low and started mov-

ing in to take advantage of any opening it might

provide me. He kicked the chair casually aside but

in doing so the seat turned and caught him on the

knee. I heard him grunt. Since the first toss hadn't

been serious he didn't take the second seriously

enough.

I kicked high with everything I had. He blocked

it with his arm, but was knocked off balance

momentarily. I leapt at him and pounded away

with both fists, but it was mostly for show. I got

what I wanted, though, a hard kick to the same

knee I'd been working on. I moved back before

those big hands got hold of me, circled right and

kicked low, again and again, at his legs.

I hit him solid a half dozen times, but for the life

of me I couldn't see he was any worse for it. I

backed off, caught my breath, and went in again as

committed as a panther. Suddenly he had my arm.

I fought to free myself, but the pain was too much.

I was forced to the floor, slowly and methodically.

If I hadn't gone down, my arm would have broken.

But if I had been fighting for my life I might have

let him break it first. I saw a foot come down hard

next to my head. I pushed and tried to roll. He was

getting in position again. The pain was excruciat-

ing. I gave him a karate chop across his injured

knee. He grunted softly, but I knew this one hurt

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

49


49

him. I had been softening up the knee since the

fight started. No foot on my head now. He kicked

me in the jaw just as I slammed his knee a second

time. It felt like a baseball bat when his foot hit me,

but I found -myself still conscious so I knew it

couldn't have been as bad as it felt.

Somehow I had managed to puil away. When I

got my bearing I knew it was smash-and-bash time,

forget judo, aikido, and the rest. I went for him,

intent on finishing him. I felt the adrenalin kick in.

I hit him a good one over the right eye. I could see

the pain fog him for a second, but he came at me

like a charging bull. I popped him a couple of mean

ones as I moved out of his way. Then I took a hard

one. It looked like a battle of attrition. I moved

and hit, and moved, and moved, keeping him off-

stride, waiting for a chance to get in something sol-

id. I came in at him fast, trying to catch him out of

sync. I guess he was playing the same game on his

end, because the next thing I knew, I was taking a

sky-diving lesson without a parachute.

I was fast enough and flexible enough that he

was never able to follow up on the moves. This

time when I slipped loose I kept close to him. I

reached for my belt with my right hand. He moved

forward. I slashed him across the side of the face

with the big brass belt buckle. I swung again for his

eyes, but it was a feint. My left foot came in from

the other side, smashing into his neck. Then I

kicked his weakened knee as hard as I could. He

went sprawling on his side. While he tried to get

over on his stomach and push himself up, I got in

a second kick to his head. I thought it was all over,

but I saw him struggling to his feet. I reached for

the chair lying on the floor nearby.

50


50

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

"Touch that chair, Mr. Jesse James, and you'll

have a second belly button bigger than the first."

Katrina had the gun pointed right where she said

she did. I looked at her. Out of the corner of my

eye I could see Chubby slipping back down to the

floor.

"What's that?" she shrieked, noticing the belt in

my hand for the first time. I guess she hadn't fol-

lowed the action. I looked at the bloody belt buckle

hanging from my hand.

"What have you done, you son-of-a-bitch? You

cheated!" She looked at me with hate and ran over

"Ivo, Ivo!" She kept Wilhelmina

to Chubby.

trained on me. "Move one inch and you're dead."

I stayed put. I still had my hand on the chair. She

brushed Ivo's hand away from his face and saw the

bloody welt.

She looked at me. I had seen that look before. It

meant: I am going to kill you.

"Wait," I said. "I did that for a reason. I had

Chubby beaten fair and square."

"You're dead," she said. There was a fierce glow

in her eyes. She sighted the pistol on my heart.

"I was making a point. Do you think OZNA will

play by the rules? You can't fight them with com-

petition judo no matter how good Chubby is."

"That's it for you, Jesse James," she said. I could

see her finger curl tighter around the trigger.

"No, Katrina, no," Chubby said as he reached

for her arm. "Stop! He is right. Judo is only a

sport. I've not been in more than two real fights in

my life. Katrina, they won't play by any rules."

She looked down at him and put her left hand on

his face. I threw the chair but this time not at

Chubby. It knocked Wilhelmina free of her hand. I

THE DUBROVNIk MASSACRE

51


51

moved right in after the chair. I grabbed her arm

and held it behind her. I was angry: She had been

about to kill me until Chubby spoke up.

"How do you think this would have ended if I

were OZNA? You just got both you and your

friend kilkd." I tried to fill my voice with disgust.

I let her loose and walked over to pick up

Wilhelmina. On the way I saw her reach for her

jacket pocket.

"Katrina, enough," Ivo said. C' This man is a

guest in my house. I won't have any more of this."

I kept quiet, but she looked at me with eyes full of

venom. Ivo put his big arm around her and led her

from the room. He had a bad limp.

"He is not a guest. He is a goon," I heard her say

as they walked into the hallway.

"Katrina," he said in a calming voice. I went

over and pulled out a large overstuffed chair so I

could collapse into it. I wasn't feeling too good.

My arm felt like it had been burned. I ran my hand

along it testing to see if any of the recent repair

work had been undone. Everything seemed okay. I

took a deep breath and started getting myself to-

gether.

Their absence gave me a chance to look around

the room for the first time. There actually wasn't

much furniture. The large room would still look

bare when everything was put back in its place.

There were a lot of sculptures around. some made

of white marble, others of some kind of black stone.

Several were pretty large. I guessed the place was

pretty much what Katrina had said it was before

she hit me with a sap in the hallway: a sculptor's

studio set in the industrial part of town the same

way they often are in the U.S. I guess Chubby

NICK CARTER


52

(60 of 260)

52

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

needed a lot of space to work, plus the big wall-

sized windows. I went over to take a look out.

There was little traffic and not many pedestrians.

I heard a noise and turned around. It was just

Chubby coming in the room, looking sheepish. He

had a bottle and three tumblers in his hands. He

limped and his face had a bandage on it. Another

half-inch and he'd have been a one-eyed sculptor. I

was a little surprised to see him up and around.

Any one of a dozen blows I had struck him with

would have put a normal man out of commission

for a week.

He handed me a tumbler and leaned against the

table.

"Ivo getting old," he said, continuing in broken

English. "Ivo, one-time Yugoslav national champ."

He pointed to himsel[ That made me feel better

about having such a hard time with him.

"Sorry about that," I said, pointing to the band-

age on his cheek.

"Okay," he said. "Russian vodka, good stuff."

He filled my tumbler and then his own.

"Good fighting," he said. We clinked our

glasses. He drank it down like water and so did I.

He was pleased when he saw my glass empty. He

filled us both up again.

' 'Medicine. "

"Medicine," I repeated. We saluted each other

and drank it down. Katrina came into the room,

gave me an evil look, picked up her pistol, and

stalked out. "I don't think she likes me," I said. He

said nothing. A minute later he sighed and took a

deep breath.

"Move furniture, then more," he said gesturing

to the vodka bottle. I helped him move the stuff

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

53


53

back in place and almost knocked over a sculpture

in the process. I was feeling less pain but more

wobbly. When we finished, we both sat down heav-

ily on the couch and drank down another glass.

"Food?" he asked. I shook my head. Food was

the last thing-I wanted.

"Rest," he said, indicating the couch. He pulled

out a brightly colored Yugoslav blanket and laid it

on one end.

"Sleep?"

"I speak Serbo-Croatian," I said.

"Okay, good English. American real good." He

smiled and waved at me with his hand to lie down.

"Rest," he said and limped off down the hall. I

stretched out thinking I'd rest a minute and then

think things over. When I opened my eyes, it was

eight hours later.


CHAPTER VI

Light filled the room through the large, dirty

window. Ivo was sitting a few feet from me in a

large, overstuffed chair. I was groggy at first but

came around quickly as I always do. The sun was

up and it felt warm. As soon as I sat up I realized

my body still ached. Ivo reached over with his big

hand and gave me a tumbler of vodka.

"Medicine," he said, looking at me sympa-

thetically. I drank it down to be polite.

"Come, we go breakfast. Late now," said Ivo.

"What about Katrina?" I asked.

"Let sleep. Bad day, her father very sick." He

continued to speak broken English.

"I speak Serbo-Croatian," I said in that lan-

guage.

"l know. You said last night. Ivo need practice

English. Have forgotten much. Must give speech."

His eyes brightened when he remembered his

speech.

"Okay," I said, "but not in public. Your speech

is about sculpture?"

"Yes, Jesse, about sculpture."

"Nick is the name," I said.

"Okay, Nick. I see." figured he didn't. Katrina

54


55

had called me Jesse about twenty-times last night,

but I let it pass.

"You're sure it's safe to go out? You're not

being watched?"

"I'm sure, Nick. Ivo is not political, so why

should they Watch?"

He gave me a happy smile. What the hell, I

thought, and started getting ready.

Once outside it felt good to stretch my legs. We

walked a few blocks.

"This area is new," I said.

"Most Belgrade is new, Nick. Bad bombing by

Nazis, but even during World War I, much de-

stroyed. "

In the cafe we had a typical Yugoslav breakfast

of pastry and turkish coffee and talked about in-

nocuous stuff in Serbo-Croatian. He was a fanat-

ical soccer fan like many Yugoslavs. We looked

over the papers. They reported the Fox's condition

was unchanged.

On the way back I asked him about judo and he

told me who he had been up against. He had been

matched against the best and had done pretty well.

He was strong and well trained, but he just didn't

have that driving desire that makes you number

one. Ivo had great natural talent, but the bot-

tom line was that he just did not like hurting

people.

He showed me around his studio. It was a big

room, even larger than the living room, and filled

with statues and sculptures, some completed, some

mere outlines. There were tools, chisels, mallets,

gouges, drills, and barrels of plaster of Paris and

ladders scattered around. He did a lot of big stuff.

Some of it was larger than he was. Most were of


56

(64 of 260)

56

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

figures that were realistic in their detail but not ab-

stract either.

"Do you know who?" he asked. I'd been stand-

ing in front of a large female nude for several

minutes. I had just started to tell him no when I

realized it was Katrina. She looked twice as good

as I had imagined.

At that moment, she wandered into the studio

looking for Ivo, I suppose. When she saw me, she

walked out without saying anything. I started to

ask her how her father was, but she waved me off.

"Very friendly," I said.

"Very unhappy," he replied, getting ready to go

to work. I pulled up a chair. He was working on a

large marble statue of a seated woman, but Katrina

hadn't posed for this one. The model must have

weighed almost as much as Ivo himself.

"Why didn't you use a thinner model?" I gave

him a wink and made a shape in the air.

"Sometimes," he said, pointing to several statues

around the room. "But you know Playboy bunny

too easy to make beautiful. Make fat lady beautiful

is hard. You understand?"

"Sure," I said. I relaxed and watched him chip

away. Those massive arms and hands had a deli-

cate touch when it came to his work. He looked

around at me. He was carving something at the

foot of the woman. He gave me a big, toothy smile.

"What is?"

I should have known immediately what it was. I

had been watching him work on it. I walked over

for a closer look. I had watched one ear appear and

then another. The rest was barely outlines. It

looked like a lump of stone.

'SA cat," I said. He laughed and patted me on the

back.

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

57


57

"Good, good," he said, continuing to laugh. He

was obviously pleased with his creation. It was a

wonderful joke to him to be able to carve a cat. I

watched him for a few more minutes, but I didn't

plan to sit around all day. I went to look for

Katrina. She-was in the kitchen leaning against a

table, eating a piece of bread.

"Hey," I said. 'SThat will stick to your hips."

' 'What can I do for you, Mr. Jesse James?"

"What's happening?"

"Today, nothing, as far as you are concerned.

Tomorrow, maybe something. Rest. Play tourist."

"What about you, what are you doing today?"

"That's for me to know and you not to worry

about."

I eyed her for a moment. I had some ideas.

have to go get my luggage. Maybe I'll take in a

couple of art galleries and be back this evening," I

said.

"You've seen no sign the apartment is being

watched?"

"None. "

"Please be careful coming and going. Ivo doesn't

know anything about politics or care. I don't want

anything to happen to him."

'KI can understand that," I said.

I picked up my stuff at the safe house and

brought it back over. It was already late afternoon.

Katrina was out. Ivo didn't know where, and he

was busy working. I took a cab to Belgrade's

Frescos Museum, ducked out a side door, and

caught another cab to within half a mile of the hos-

pital. I walked the rest of the way. I had decided to

drop in for a chat with Katrina's father. After all,

it was the old man himself who had asked for me.

One thing was certain: Katrina would tell me as


58

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

little as she could. If I couldn't find out what was

happening from Ankevic I'd just have to play

along, and that could be dangerous for all of us.

The hospital building looked new. Hospitals

look the same around the world, but more im-

portantly, they are a difficult kind of building to

make secure. There are so many employees, pa-

tients, relatives, rooms, closets, doors, labs—that's

what I like best about them. I looked over my sport

coat and shirt and walked in with an air of author-

ity. It didn't take me long to borrow a

and white coat. Suddenly I was Dr. Nick. No one

challenged me, and the first part of the operation

went smoothly. I was genuinely relaxed.

It took me a while to find out which floor

Ankevic was on without drawing attention to my

inquiries. Now came the tricky part. They had cor-

doned off the whole floor he was on. Except for

other intensive-care patients and their doctors, no

one was admitted. I would have to go up there

without any clear idea of the security arrange-

ments. I waylaid a nurse to see if I could learn any-

thing more. I complained loudly that the security

measures were interfering with my duties. She told

me conspiratorily to be careful, there were OZNA

around and why was bothered anyway, there was

no one on that floor but intensive-care patients. I

told her I had just had a patient moved up there.

She explained what I would have to do to be ad-

mitted to the floor.

I had to call the floor, tell them my name and my

patient's name, my reason for going up, and wait

to be paged. If everything checked out, guards

would come and get me and take me up in a special

elevator. What I needed now was information. I

looked for an out-of-the-way nurses' station. It

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

59


59

took me a while to find one. I was going through

the files when a nurse supervisor came up and

asked if she could help me. She was suspicious and

persistent. She wanted to know my name. I gave

her my big smile and popped her on the jaw. I

dragged hek hehind the counter and tied her up

with her shoelaces and pantyhose, then tucked her

into a nearby closet. I wrote a little sign which said

"Do Not Open" and pasted it to the door. Then I

tried my best to jam the door shut, all the while

keeping a weather eye for new company. It came in

the form of a young, helpful nurse who walked up

just after I had got things tidied up. She showed me

where the records I was looking for were.

I put doctor, patient, and disease together and

made my call. I waited. There were two armed

guards in the elevator when it came down. They

looked me over, seemed satisfied, and up we went.

I walked out on the floor. The elevator guards re-

mained where they were, but I had to explain to the

two guards sitting at a nearby desk who I was.

"You know the way," they said, looking satis-

fied with my explanations. But of course I didn't. I

walked slowly down the hall, eyeing the numerous

gunmen. They were carrying Czech-made Skor-

pion machine pistols—awfully heavy weaponry for

guard duty. I walked down the corridor, but I was

approaching a bad problem. The intensive-care

nurses would know I wasn't Dr. Kosovo. From the

small sign high up on the right side of the passage-

way, I decided the unit would be somewhere

around the next corner. I turned the corner, nose in

the air. Two guards stood in front of a doorway,

looking as tough and well trained as the others. I

walked on by, nodding to them as I passed.They

didn't respond but instead eyed me coldly. I kept

60


60

(68 of 260)

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

walking until the hallway made another sharp an-

gle.

Finding myself alone in the corridor, I pushed

my way into the nearest room. It was a small ward

that must have been cleared out for security rea-

sons. I looked around and then went over to the

window. I couldn't see much, so I kicked out the

screen. I leaned out and looked to the left toward

the guarded ward. The building was built sort of

like a checkerboard. Only the squares represented

by the protruding windows were separated from

each other by about three feet. The windows were

fitted in what looked like precast concrete squares.

In any case, they stuck out about four inches from

the rest of the building. I looked straight down.

The building consisted of a wide, two-story build-

ing from which the narrow ten-story tower I was in

emerged. So I was partially protected from anyone

seeing me move along the outside of the building. I

was on the east side of the building, and it was get-

ting dark and the trees from the park across the

street further blocked the view. I looked at my

watch and decided to give myself another half hour

before making my move.

When the darkness outside was complete, I took

a look at the ledges again. I'm an experienced tech-

nical climber, so I was only mildly worried. If I had

had the proper equipment there would have been

no problem at all. I took off my shoes and socks

and stuffed them in my coat pockets. Then I took

off my white doctor's coat and tied it around my

waist. I climbed out on the windowsill. I looked

down. Ihe drop was certainly enough to kill me.

Climbing along the segments was going to be no

problem. lhere were two concrete ledges on top so

I could reach up and place fist jams to hold myself.

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

61


61

(69 of 260)

+ 110%

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

61

Getting across the space between the segments was

going to be a little tricky.

I made my way along the first window segment

without a problem, although I didn't realize how

windy it was until I had gotten completely outside.

I reached Nie end of the segment. The next ledge

was three feet away. I jammed my left fist as tight

as I could and angled over the gap with my leg. I

pushed myself out into space, first balancing on my

left foot, then on my right. I did a jam with my

right hand and released my left. It wasn't as bad as

I figured. I moved across the next segments as

quickly as I could. Crossing to the third segment I

slipped. I was hanging by one hand for a second

but I finally got a firm hold with my other hand.

The wind was giving me more trouble. It looked

like I had another problem. The next window was

lit. After some difficult maneuvers I managed to

peek in the window.

I could move up or down; either choice was dan-

gerous. I chose up. To get up there I had to do a

stem jam; my back would be against one slab and

my feet against the other. Not a hard move if you

know how to do it, and if you have a nice deep

crevice to ascend. The vertical protruding slabs

gave me a little more depth than horizontals, but it

still amounted to only about five and one-half in-

ches, which meant I had to use my free left arm in

tricky ways that were tricky even when you are as

skilled as I am. I made it clambering the last foot.

I was sweating like J had been in a sauna. I saun-

tered along the next segment. Dropping down was

not as difficult, though I wouldn't do it as a parlor

trick.

I made it the rest of the way across to Ankevic's

window without any problems. I peeked in. Two

62


62

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

guards sat in the miffdle of the room with machine

pistols in their laps. There was a partition behind

them. I assumed that was where Ankevic was. I

heard voices and pulled back just in time. A guard

walked up to the window, turned slightly, and

tossed a bottle into a wastepaper basket. There

were at least two more guards I couldn't see. The

game was all over. All my effort had been for noth-

ing. I dangled outside the window for another five

minutes hoping a miracle would happen. When the

time I had allotted myself was up, scuttled back

over ledge after ledge until I came to the lighted

window. I didn't want to climb a story again unless

I had to, so I took a peek. It was empty now, so I

yanked out the screen and pulled myself in.

I had almost crossed the room when the door

opened a foot, but the intruder stopped, turned,

and began to answer an unseen questioner. By the

time he had stopped speaking and turned to corne

in the room, I was behind the door. I caught him

with a karate chop on the back of his neck and

pushed the door closed with my foot. If he had

come a minute later I would have hidden, but as it

was, I just didn't have time. He dropped in my

arms. I pulled him over to a nearby corner, pulled

open a door that turned out to be a closet, and

stuffed him in.

The door began to open again so I ducked in the

closet myself. I soon realized they were using the

room as a lounge. I couldn't make out what they

were saying, but it didn't amount to much at first.

Then I realized they were talking about the Fox.

They were talking about guarding him. That infor-

mation did unpleasant things to my brain. These

weren't a bunch of OZNA's thugs, they were the

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

63


63

Fox's bodyguard, and they were good. Suffice it to

say that over the last forty years nearly every major

espionage agency in the world had tried to kill the

Fox at least once and he was still alive. It was time

for Nick to take a powder.

I knew then-I was going to have trouble getting

out of the hospital alive. No wonder the bastards

were carrying Skorpions.

I waited until the guards finished their coffee and

left. I was heading for a window when I heard a

familiar voice. Katrina! I hurriedly put on my

shoes and rearranged my white coat. Then I

opened the door wide and walked out into the hall

with a big smile on my face. I could see five guards

in the hallway. Katrina was talking to one a few

feet away. I walked right over to her.

"Miss Ankevic, I must speak with you a mo-

ment." She turned to face me. When she saw who

I was, her eyes went wide for a second. I was sure

she would scream. In preparation for which I said:

"No, Miss Ankevic, your father is still alive." She

put her hand to her mouth. I took her arm and

walked down the hallway toward the elevators.

"What are you doing here?" she asked angrily in

English.

"If you don't speak Serbo-Croatian, I'll have to

hurt you," I said with a big, friendly smile.

' 'You wouldn't last long, Jesse James. These are

the Fox's bodyguards."

"So I've gathered. Nice of you to let me know

before I came walking in here."

"If you had followed orders and remained in the

apartment you wouldn't be in so much trouble.

You're supposed to help us. You don't run things,

you don't make decisions. I do."

64


64

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

"This is not a good place to discuss our prob-

lems. Right now my big objective is getting out of

here alive. "

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just keep walking with me to the elevators. Af-

ter I've gone down, ask the guards who I was. Tell

them I was a doctor you had never met before."

We waited for the elevator without speaking. I

wasn't too worried. I had Wilhelmina in my

pocket, and Hugo up my sleeve. I hoped Katrina

wouldn't scream and betray me and that we'd be

pals from here on out, but I wasn't depending on it.

You can't assume such things in my profe«sion.

When the elevator arrived, we shook hands for-

mally and I said: 'C Your father needed something

important done. I hope you are doing it." She

flushed, then turned and walked away. I figured I'd

leave her with something to think about. But she

got herself together very quickly. As she walked

down the hallway, she tumed around to stare at

me. She flashed me a hard look. I had a nice, quick

ride downstairs with the two elevator guards. They

let me off on the second floor. I stood waiting for

the elevator to take me to the first, that was the

system. It was a long time coming and I didn't see

any stairs. "Ihe alarm went off just before the sec-

ond elevator 01kned on the first floor.

People stopped and stared around, not knowing

what to do. I walked through the bright, crowded

lobby. There were a dozen guards at the front

door. They were regular police rather than the

Fox's bodyguard. Still the odds were bad. 1160ked

around and saw a side exit. There were two uni-

formed guards standing in front of the double

doors. One already had his pistol in his hand, the

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

65


65

other was still fumbling around for his. In a minute

the Fox's Skorpion-packing guards would be be.

hind me. I wouldn't last long. I walked down the

neon corridor toward the doors at a calm, even

pace. They pointed their pistols at me.

"Stop!" -

"A homicidal maniac is loose," I said. "I am his

doctor." I'm not sure they believed me, but they

didn't shoot and I kept walking.

' 'Doctor, you can't leave. Orders."

"l know, I know, you oafs. I'm his doctor and

' I'm looking for him. Why are you pointing those

guns at me? You fools. I've come to tell you what

the man looks like."

They let me walk right up to them. I glanced

around. Down the corridor I could see two of the

Fox's bodyguards headed in our direction. What

happened next is one of those things that is bound

to occur in my profession, one of the things no-

body likes to talk about. The two guards in front of

me were a couple of innocents, not OZNA, not

bodyguards, not police. They had been handed

pistols, promised pensions, and told to guard a

hospital.

I flicked my wrist. Does a cobra see its own

strike? The one on the right clutched at his fibrilat-

ing heart, the young, pimply-faced one on the left

tried to stop his throat from gushing blood. I

pushed through to the door, wiping Hugo on a

shirt sleeve as I went by. Neither man had uttered

a word or got off a shot, even though their pistols

had been pointed at me. I was running down the

steps outside when I heard the first bursts from the

Skorpions splattering through the doorway.

Out in the street I melted into the crowd, pulling

NICK CARTER


66

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

off my white coat as I went and tossing it into the

garbage can. That was the end of Dr. Nick. I took

the usual measures to make certain I wasn't being

followed. It took some time, but I was sure that I

had gotten away free.

When I arrived back at Ivo's studio, I thought it

was deserted, but then I found him in his studio

exactly where I had left him hours earlier. There

was more cat visible than earlier. He was tapping

out cat whiskers and chuckling to himself with

pleasure.

"How you like, Nick?"

"Looks like cat whiskers to me," I said.

"Medicine, Nick?"

"Yeah," I said, "why not?" I found the cabinet

he told me he kept it in and hunted up a couple of

glasses.

"Ivo," I said, "what's this all about? I can't help

unless I know what's going on."

"You will have to ask Katrina. She told me not

say. Her father is very great man, Nick. He did

much protect artists years ago."

"But how can I help if she won't tell me any-

thing? Are you a political dissident like Katrina?"

"Katrina is my friend, Nick. I don't know poli-

tics. Her father great man. I make freedom

statements in stone." He gestured to his cat.

"How are a cat's whiskers a statement?" I asked.

He was bent over finishing them as carefully as if

his life depended on how they turned out.

"Is good whiskers, no, Nick?" he said. I laughed.

What could I do? I'd get more information out of

Katrina.

"More medicine?" I asked, filling the tumblers.

"Okay, Nick," he said.


67

(75 of 260)

110%

CHAPTER VII

"Bastard! Son-of-a-bitch!" Katrina had a few

more choice words for me in Serbo-Croatian as she

pounded on my still half-asleep body. I grabbed

her and we rolled around off the floor awhile.

There were things I'd much rather have done roll-

ing around on the floor with her other than fight.

She smelled and felt great. I pinned her arms to the

floor and asked her what she was mad about. She

almost spit at me.

"Those two men you killed, you bastard! You

didn't have to do that. You shouldn't have been at

the hospital. Two people died unnecessarily be-

cause of you. "

g 'First of all," I said, "who are you to second

guess me about whether or not the guards had to

be killed? Have you ever been in a fight? What do

you think happens when you get caught in a nar-

row corridor by a couple of guys with machine

pistols?" I gave her a hard stare. "Second. You lied

to me. If you had told me the Fox's bodyguard was

protecting your father, I never would have gone.

And third, you blew the whistle too soon before I

had a chance to get out of the building. You're as

responsible for those men's deaths as am." That

68


68

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

would give her little liberal heart something to feel

guilty about.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" she said, tears welling up

in her eyes. "Trying to blame this on me." Ivo

chose that minute to wander into the room. Find-

ing us lying pelvis to pelvis, he discreetly walked

back out again.

"It's war," I said. ' 'These things always happen

in war. Do you really think only the bad guys get

killed? Why do you think everybody in their sane

mind is for peace?"

"You give me lectures about peace. You're a

professional murderer. You've been here two days

and already the violence has begun. Those poor

men had families."

' 'The way I figure it you shouldn't carry a gun

unless you plan to use it. Do you think they

wouldn't have stopped me? I'd be the one who is

dead. And I didn't start the violence. Your father

wasn't hit by accident."

"You don't know that," she said. I sighed and

rolled off, letting her get up.

"You're an animal, do you know that?" she said

as she stood.

"It wouldn't have happened if you had told me

what was going on."

"Mr. Jesse James, if I don't feel you are going to

cooperate and follow orders, I'm not going to take

you along no matter how much you might be

needed. Do you understand?" She turned and

stalked out of the room.

ler last point was a good one. I myself wouldn't

involve anyone who I thought was going to come

in and try to take over and not follow orders.

I heard pots and pans banging around in th

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

69


69

kitchen, cabinet doors being opened and closed. I

leaned back in a chair. There was nothing I could

do for the moment.

Ivo walked in after a while and shared a bottle of

vodka. He sat on the couch, his bulk so large that

he took up alinost half of it. "Katrina likes you,"

he said to me smiling.

"That's not the impression I said, sipping

my vodka.

"She is chip off the old block, Nick. She is stub-

born like two mules, but she has a good stomach.

Her father was in prison. Her mother is dead.

Aunts and uncles not the same thing. Yes?"

"Guts," I said. "She has guts. That's how you

say it in English." I didn't see any reason not to

help him work on his language skills.

"She has good guts," he repeated. I realized then

that Ivo was never going to be as good at linguistics

as he was at sculpture.

"She won't tell me what is going on," I said.

"That makes things very dangerous."

Ivo didn't say much by way of reply, just poured

me some more vodka.

Actually finding the Fox's bodyguard protecting

Ankevic confirmed Hawk's analysis of the situ-

ation down to the fine print. "To" but not "includ-

ing"—that was my problem. People were going to

die because I didn't know the details and couldn't

prepare a plan.

Two things were clear. Yugoslavia had to be in a

terrible danger or the two men wouldn't have been

forced to work together. And the Fox must have

figured out some way to use Ankevic to defeat the

threat. The first piece of information pointed to the

KGB and the local Stalinist CRML cells as the

70


70

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

enemy or why else choose Ankevic? But the second

piece of information yielded nothing. What could

Ankevic and a few dissidents do to stop the plot? I

had only Katrina's slip that we would be going some-

where. My musings were interrupted by sounds of an

argument from the kitchen. I couldn't follow all of it

through the closed door, but I gathered she had set

only two places for dinner. A few minutes later I was

called in to eat.

Katrina looked a little chastened during the

meal. She sat silently, picking at her food and look-

ing thoughtful. The main course was teleca corba

leso, a rich, spicy stew made with veal , sausage, red

and green peppers, and tomatoes. They toss an egg

or two in at the last minute which sounds a bit

strange but tastes good. We drank a couple of bot-

tles of fine Serbian wine called Negotinsko. We fin-

ished off with turkish coffee and dishes of sweet

noodles. Ivo was a big eater, I noticed, but a civ-

ilized one. We talked mostly about soccer. Ivo

planned to take a year off from sculpture to trave!

around the world and attend soccer games in every

city and country he went to. That was the big

dream of his life.

I was worried about what would happen to him

after we left. I suggested he leave soon, but he told

me about how many commissions and sculptures

he had to do. I looked to Katrina for help.

"It might be a good time to go, Ivo. Things

could become very dangerous here. " She looked at

him worriedly. "I know they have never harmed

you before. You've been protected because you are

the most famous sculptor in our country

"—Ivo

blushed when she said this--—"but this might be dif-

ferent. They were afraid to attack my father for

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE


71

many years after he got out of prison because of all

the books he wrote. They might make it look like

an accident."

s 'But, Katrina, I'm not political, I don't know

anything. Ivo is not afraid of goons." He flexed his

massive armi.

"I think you should go for a while," I said.

"I'll think about, Nick," he said. But involun-

tarily he glanced back toward his studio and his

unfinished work. I knew he wouldn't leave but said

nothing more. I rested my chin on my hand and

watched Katrina slowly finish her dinner. Ivo got

up saying he had some work to finish in the studio

and left us alone.

"Okay, Mr. Jesse James, I'll tell you where we

are going and why." She still sounded firm, but

something in her had changed. She sounded weary.

Maybe she had realized we were playing for keeps.

Ivo probably had a lot to do with it.

She went on. "You know the Fox drove out the

Red Army and broke with Stalin in 1948. When the

Fox broke with him, Uncle Joe had fifteen thou-

sand armed followers in our country. This is not

counting the Red Army. "Ihe Fox had a few of these

Stalinists shot, but most were sent to camps. They

were forced to write confessions and reform them-

selves. After that, all but a few diehards were re-

leased. Almost no one was killed. My father always

believed that the Fox's tactics just drove the

Stalinists underground and that if the Fox had

fought them fairly, they would have collapsed com-

pletely because they had no support among the

people.

' 'Unfortunately for us, my father was right and

only a few weeks ago the Fox learned they were

72


72

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

much stronger than he thought. Ihey have formed

an elaborate network of cells and call themselves,

in. English, the Committee to Return to Marxist-

Leninism, CRML. We call them Uncle Joe's fan

club and make a joke, but they are serious and very

dangerous. They are waiting for the Fox to die to

make their move. The secret, the Fox learned, was

that they had infiltrated OZNA, the party, and the

armed forces.

"My father was shocked when he received the

Fox's invitation. At first he refused to go, thinking

it was some kind of trick. But they pleaded with

him so that he finally consented. He had not

spoken to the Fox in thirty years. Remember that

at one time he was the Fox's right-hand man and

heir apparent. They were personally very close. My

father had been worried for some time about

CRML and always had his own sources. He be-

lieved that the Fox had failed to break them with

his purges and indeed thought he had discovered

evidence that CRML had infiltrated the Fox's own

secret police, OZNA, but his evidence was in-

conclusive. Still, he was shocked by what the Fox

told him. A man they both knew well confessed on

his deathbed that he had been blackmailed into

working for CRML and in turn for the KGB

twenty-five years ago. This man told the Fox there

were others being blackmailed, called them the

'controlled ones.' But he did not know who they

were. That's how all this began. We have to prove

the controlled ones exist, that's where I will need

your help. "

I took all this in in silence, sipping my coffee.

Thcn I said stoically, "How?"

' 'There are documents buried in the mountains

THE MASSACRE

73


73

that prove the controlled ones exist. All the names

are listed there too. We have to go on a long jour-

ney."

"Journeys are fine," I said, "but the longer the

journey, the easier it is to pick up fellow travelers. "

"What do you mean?"

'SI mean that for starters I hope you covered

your trail tonight when you came back here. From

now on, every little mistake we make will carry

with it the possibility of being fatal. Mistakes build

on top of one another, too." I waited for a re-

sponse. None came. "Can you tell me if you were

followed. "

She gave a start. She said she had been careful,

but her expression clouded with doubt for a mo-

ment.

"Even if they can't follow you-—or us—without

being obvious, they'll go through lists of everyone

you know and stake out each apartment until they

find you."

"You are probably right, but I have only stayed

here two nights and we leave tomorrow. I've en-

dangered Ivo enough. "

"Ivo is not afraid. " The sculptor had picked that

minute to come back into the room. "Katrina is

my friend. I want to help."

"No, I want you to stay out of this. You have

your work to do," Katrina said. "Did you get the

packs?"

"Oh, yes. I bought them and the rest of what you

asked for. I'll get them," he said.

"We had better pack tonight so we will be ready.

Ivo will take us to the train station tomorrow. "

"Why the train? That seems unnecessarily slow.

Why not take a car?"

74


74

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

"Whose car do you have in mind? I can't take

mine. We can't take Ivo's or any of his friends'

without getting them involved in all this." She

threw up her hands.

"We'll steal one."

"Just the sort of suggestion I would expect from

you. No. We go by train."

"It doesn't make sense. "

"Mr. Jesse James," she said. "We do it my way

or not at all. Are you coming or not?"

I nodded. I would go along with her plans for

now.

"Please help pack," she said.

We cleared the table and soon it was piled high

with food and equipment. Ivo's packs were old-

fashioned but serviceable. I checked through the

gear.

There was a small, lightweight frying pan, nest-

ing cooking pots, canteens, cups, a coffeepot,

spoons, forks, knives. got a piece of paper and

wrote out a list. Mistakes, when you are far away

from civilization, are usually serious. Sometimes

they make you uncomfortable. Occasionally they

make you dead.

Katrina sat across from me bagging up the food.

She did not have freeze-dried food like we use in

the U.S., so we would have to carry more weight.

She brought fresh vegetables, peppers and

tomatoes and onions, some cloves of garlic, as well

as the dry stuff.

I looked over the clothes. There were sweaters,

extra pants, down jackets, a stocking cap and

gloves. The big danger in spring is not freezing, but

hypothermia. Your heating system gets overloaded

and can't cope with the heat loss. It happens when

you're tired, hungry, wet, and cold. This combina-

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

75


76

tion has killed people even in temperatures of forty

or fifty degrees. Wind is the key. If you're wet and

can't get dry, you can die in what seems like warm

weather.

"My problem is boots and socks,"

I said to

Katrina. '4L I'd known we were going mountain

climbing I would have brought my own."

"Ivo will get the name and address of a store for

you. You can buy some tomorrow."

' 'We're leaving early, aren't we?"

"Not until tomorrow night. I have to go to the

hospital and make the rest of the arrangements."

"l know professionals, Katrina. Every hour

we're here is dangerous. The more important you

are to them, the quicker they'll locate us."

"Nothing can be done," she said. "Everything is

arranged for tomorrow night."

"We should get some basic climbing equip-

ment,"

I said. "A rope, a couple of caribiners,

some pitons, and a rappel sling. We can get up and

down a mountain quicker that way. Have you done

any climbing?"

"I haven't, but biy the equipment you think is

necessary."

I started packing my stuff. I did it carefully, put-

ting heavy stuff high in the pack and close to my

back for balance. Ihen I went and got my

binoculars; my special minicamera, and ammunition

for Wilhelmina.

After I got back in the kitchen and started put-

ting stuff away, Katrina said, "I know what you

are thinking, Mr. Jesse James. As you say in Amer-

ica, I get this girl off in the woods and get in her

pants real easy. I warn you now. I have a pistol. I

will shoot you."

I smiled. "The thought never entered my mind.

NICK CARTER


76

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

Rest assured I will not touch you."

"Hey, what is all this bad talk?" said Ivo, com-

ing in the door. "We are friends working together.

I don't understand you, Katrina. You used to say

make love not war. Now you are always threaten-

ing people. Mr. Jesse James is guest in my house."

"He is not a guest or a friend. He is a secret po-

lice, a Western OZNA. If they ordered you to kill

me and my father, you would do it, wouldn't you?"

"They would never order me to do that," I said

uneasily.

"But if they did, you would do it, wouldn't you?

You would do anything they ordered you to do,

kill anyone they told you to. Ivo, you must under-

stand this is not a human being. This is part of a

powerful machine. You point to him and say 'Kill'

and he kills."

"Katrina, he is a human being. I don't want you

talking about guests in my house like that. All

these arguments give Ivo a headache." He got up.

"Stop this fighting. There are enough enemies out

there." He gestured to the street with his thumb as

he walked out of the room.


CHAPTER VIII

I waited for Katrina to get ready to leave for the

hospital so that I could follow her. I was sitting up

on the windowsill, watching the street.

"You sit in the morning sunlight like a cat,

Nick," Ivo said, "but unlike a cat you get more

tense instead of relaxed."

"Just thinking things over, Ivo."

' 'This is very dangerous thing you and Katrina

"That doesn't bother me. I just want the mission

to be a success."

"Ivo understand Katrina will be ready in a

Ininute. I think you have the address of the camp-

ing store?"

'"Yes. Everything is fine." I kept my eyes on the

street. Katrina yelled "goodbye" from the door. I

watched her from my window perch until she was

half a block away and then went down after her. I

wanted to make sure no one else was following her.

She was good. It took her about twenty minutes

to lose me. Perhaps I worried unnecessarily. Still,

following someone is most effective with a team.

Even the best individual is not as good a shadow as

a trained squad.

77


78

(86 of 260)

78

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

I found the camping store without difficulty and

bought the climbing rope and other stuff we

needed. I picked out the lightest and softest boots

they had which would still offer my feet some pro-

tection. When I got back I circled Ivo's block,

checking to see that the building was still secure.

On the way up the stairs to Ivo's studio I noticed a

good place-to hide the clothes and other valuables

I wouldn't be taking with me. I borrowed a chisel

and mallet from him and hid my belongings behind

the wooden stairs just before the landing. I told Ivo

where I'd hidden my things and to burn them if I

didn't come back.

"Ivo, you be careful," I said when I returned his

tools.

"Sure, Nick. You need help, let Ivo know."

She returned at dusk. I watched her coming

through the crowd, her beautiful long legs, her head

held high. She was being tailed. I wasn't sure at

first, but there was something funny about a small

man in a blue suit. He didn't look at her directly,

but then there was no reason for him to stop where

he did. I put the binoculars up to my eyes and fol-

lowed his gaze to a green car with three men in it.

He began walking again. I watched him until he

moved out of sight. There were others now. It took

me awhile to pick them out.

Katrina came into the room all smiles. "He is

better today," she said happily to no one in partic-

ular.

"Mr. Jesse James likes to watch birds," she said

when she saw the binoculars in my hand. ' 'Or is

there a girl across the way taking a shower?"

'G They've found us. You were followed."

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

79


79

(87 of 260)

+ 110%

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

79

Katrina walked up beside me. I handed her the

binoculars and pointed out the men. She took the

binoculars and watched the street carefully.

"I'm not sure," she said.

"Look at the green car. You can see the guy on

the right using the communications equipment."

"l can't believe it. How could they? Look, the

green car is leaving."

"The van behind them is their replacement."

"I don't see . . . What are we going to do? I'm

not sure about that van of yours, but the man

across the street is watching this building."

I took the binoculars, but I didn't really need

them. One thing I did notice was that Yugoslav

communications equipment was big and bulky

compared with American or, for that matter, Sovi-

et. They seemed to have communication only from

vehicle to vehicle. Their street operatives had to

rely on sight and gesture; That was good news. It

would make my job easier.

?" she said, puzzled. I

"How could they .

didn't say anything.

"Ivo," she yelled. "They have found us. We

must go now." Ivo came bursting into the room.

"What can I do, Katrina—I know, you rhust

take my car."

"No! Let me think."

"There'll be more in a few minutes. We must move

quickly or there'll be too many for us to escape," I

said, trying to hurry things along.

"So what do you suggest, Mr. Jesse James?"

"I'm going to draw them away," I said. "You

wait here exactly five minutes after I leave. Meet

me at the southeast corner of the square near the

train station."

80


80

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

"They'll see your pack and know you're going to

the station," she said nervously.

I thought a moment.

"Ivo take packs," the sculptor cut in. "You and

Katrina go, the way you plan, Nick. I will meet you

at the park."

Katrina looked at me. "Only if you promise to

leave the country," she said to him firmly.

Ivo shifted uneasily and looked at his feet.

Katrina looked at me again. We both knew he

wasn't going to leave.

"Okay, Ivo," I said. "I'll help you put the packs

in boxes. Then you can load them into your car.

But let's hurry. In a few minutes they'll have

enough men out there to follow anyone who comes

in or out of the building."

I watched Ivo load the car while Katrina paced

the room like a jaguar in a cage.

When Ivo returned I said, "If anyone is follow-

ing you, Ivo, try to lose them before you reach us.

But if you can't, put your headlights on low beam

when you come up the road. I'll take care of

them."

She started to say something, but I cut her off.

' 'Okay, I'm going." I took one more look out the

window before going downstairs. I poked my head

out the front door and then followed with the rest

of my body. They weren't going to shoot me; they

wanted to know where I was going first.

The streets were wet and shiny from the rain and

looked eerie in the yellow street lamps, but I didn't

have much time to appreciate the view. Four men

piled out of one of the cars and stood around for a

moment in a huddle. The van remained, along with

one more car to play it safe, I figured. I turned

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

81


81

right and walked in the opposite direction from my

destination, then cut across a broad street to throw

them off balance.

We were about six blocks from Ivo's studio and

I could still sense them behind me. At one point I

made a sharp left turn past a closed cafeteria and

noticed there were only three of them. Probably

one had stopped to tie his shoe and got lost.

There was no sign of a car following us. I looked

at my watch. Katrina would have left already. I

had, I figured, about three or four minutes to do

the job I had planned and still meet her on time.

Katrina had told me about a cul-de-sac about

half a mile from the station, and that's where I

headed, moving at a quick but unhurried pace.

When I reached it I entered without hesitation. A

lot of guys are leery of them because there's only

one way out—--one easy way, that is—but that

doesn't bother me. When go through the opposi-

tion, one way's as easy as another.

The asphalt streets turned to cobblestones as we

approached. I felt my heart rate go up, but other-

wise I was as solid as a rock.

The street was dark and very slippery. One old

man was hobbling along. "OZNA," I said. "Get

inside." He scuttled for a doorway. I could hear

footsteps clicking softly on the cobblestones be-

hind me. I walked to within thirty feet of the end of

the street and stepped into a doorway, making it

look as if I were going to visit someone. Out slid

Wilhelmina with my back still to them. I leaned out

to get a look at my hunters and immediately

ducked back. A silent bullet had nicked the door

inches from my head. There was another shot, and

I saw shadows fan out. Apparently they had lost

82


82

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

interest in knowing where I was going.

Just then one of the shadows stepped under a

light—a big mistake. From my position in the

dark, protected doorway I saw the shadow was a

man. I aimed and fired.

While he dropped onto the damp, cold stones

and the scent from Wilhelmina was still pungent in

the cool night air, another shadow cut across the

cul-de-sac. It too fell, this time with a reverberating

thud. I watched his gun go sliding across the cob-

blestones and come to a rest against a door jamb.

So far, so good, I thought, swinging Wilhelmina

around to seek out the remaining hunter.

He leaned out a bit too far from behind the front

of a gray sedan and I shot him in the neck. His

whole body lurched forward and then was still. I

carefully studied the cul-de-sac, looking especially

hard for the fourth hunter, but there was no one

else.

The whole thing had lasted maybe thirty sec-

onds. Although the sound of the rain had muffled

the shots, along with the silencers, several people

were still at their windows. I was gone before they

had a chance to get a good look at me.

My watch showed I had just enough time to

make it to the rendezvous before Ivo showed up, if

I walked fast. Running would have attracted atten-

tion.

When I reached the spot, Katrina was standing

huddled against a tree, looking very worried. She

tried to smile when she saw me, and I saw her turn

her eyes to the left. A tall, broad-shouldered goon

was leaning against a tree, the tip of his cigarette

growing brighter, then darker, very quickly. I came

up close to Katrina and pretended to give her a

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

83


83

kiss, at the same time pulling out Wilhelmina be-

hind the tree. I think he knew what I was up to,

because no sooner was Wilhelmina pointed when a

piece of bark flew off the tree about a foot from my

head. His second shot went wild and didn't appear

'to strike anything nearby. And then the big guy

was flat on his back, a bullet where his cigarette

had been. Katrina looked at me wide-eyed in pro-

test, but she seemed to realize it was either him or

us.

A few minutes later Ivo drove by, his headlights

on low beam. He stopped at a traffic signal across

from us, and I walked out into the street as if I were

going to cross it. But I went right up to the orange

Fiat behind him, knelt down pretending to look for

something I had dropped, and slashed their front

tire with Hugo. I hurried back to Katrina after the

light had changed and both cars pulled away.

"Okay," I said, "let's go," and we walked over

to the place we were to meet Ivo. He would have

lost his tail by then—I hoped.

I pulled Katrina along. "There's Ivo," she said,

pointing. There was no orange Fiat. He pulled over

and parked. We unloaded the packs and left the

boxes.

"I'm sorry I got you into this, Ivo," she said.

"Katrina, I am your friend," he replied.

"You must leave the country, Ivo," I said half-

heartedly. It was probably a waste of words; he

would never leave no matter what we said.

I started to walk across to the station, not with-

out misgivings. The station might be full of OZNA

or whoever had been chasing us. Katrina didn't

move. I turned around. "Well, are you coming?" I

asked. I watched Ivo drive off. No one followed.

84


84

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

"We're not taking the train," she said.

"What are we going to do then, walk?"

' 'No, Jesse James. Bring your pack." She began

walking down the block, but stopped in front of a

car about twenty feet from the corner. For a sec-

ond I didn't move, then I shouldered my pack and

followed her.

"Katrina," I said. "It won't do to keep holding

out on me any longer. We could get into some very

tricky situations."

"Always worrying, Mr. Jesse James, aren't

you?" she said, opening the car door and climbing

in after we had jammed our packs into the tiny car.

"Are we still going to the mountains," I asked,

"or are we going fishing instead?"

"Oh, fishing," she said, fumbling with the key.

"Good," I said, "there's nothing I like more

than sitting on a rock all day and catching fish."

g 'We are going to the mountains still, Jesse

James. Why are you so untrusting?" She finally got

the car started.

"Good," I said, ignoring her question, 'WI need

some exercise. "

She continued. "We are German-speaking Swiss

tourists," she said.

"Sure."

"Good. You'll find your passport in the glove

compartment. "

I looked at it. It was a pretty good forgery but

hardly up to AXE standards.

"We are Swiss tourists, newlyweds going on a

backpacking trip in exotic Yugoslavia to get away

from too many relatives."

"Sounds like fun," I said as we pulled out into

traffic.


85

(93 of 260)

110%

CHAPTER IX

It was a dark and rainy drive to Sremska

Mitrovica. F1he rain began in earnest as soon as we

got in the car. All I could see out of the rain-splat-

tered window was lightning flashing high up in the

black clouds and the momentarily blinding light

from the headlights of oncoming cars. We didn't

say much. Katrina concentrated on her driving and

on her thoughts, and I looked out the windows

dwelling on my own.

It was still dark and raining when we arrived at

the railway station. We struggled to get the packs

out of the car and ran across the parking lot to the

station. It was damp and cool inside, and though

the station wasn't large by any means, it had an

empty, cavernous feeling because there were only a

dozen people about. We took our places among the

wooden benches.

We had been sitting about five minutes when a

pretty woman in a white raincoat marched up to

within about ten feet of us. She stopped and un-

leashed a German shepherd, which bounded over

happily to Katrina. The woman didn't say any-

thing; she turned and went and sat on a bench op-

posite us.

86

85


86

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

' 'This is Grusha, my dog. I haven't seen her in

four days," Katrina whispered. I examined the

dog, a healthy and good-looking female with what

looked like good breeding. She was overjoyed to

see Katrina. No barking, so I thought she must be

well trained.

I looked around the station uneasily.

Abruptly Katrina said, "So tell me what you

think? Can I bring her with us?" I looked at her

surprised and then at the dog once more. "lf you

think it might spoil things I won't take her,"

Katrina said. I was even more surprised that she

had asked for an unbiased opinion.

s 'How long are we going to be in the moun-

tains?" I asked.

"Four or five days. We have plenty of food. She

is well trained."

"I can see that," I said. I thought it over: It really

wasn't a bad idea. We'd be out in the open forest

and mountains a long time and Grusha would be

added protection.

"Okay," I said, "take her."

"You're kidding." She sounded surprised.

"I told you my opinion. Why waste time?" She

looked at me carefully and then took her purse and

turned it around. The woman who brought the dog

got up and left without saying a word. A man in a

blue beret and dressed like a worker came up and

sat a few yards away. He opened a schedule and

looked it over impatiently. I watched as she

hooked the car keys onto the dog's collars She

moved her eyes slightly, looking at the man, and

the dog moved over to the man, who removed the

keys while petting her. A minute later he looked at

his watch, then got up and left.

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

87


87

"Why is it all right to take the dog?" asked

Katrina.

"The breed is right, the age is right, and the

training is right. And I'd like to know if we've got

company as soon as possible," I said. She actually

seemed to soften a bit toward me. The truth was, I

already had plans for Grusha.

Five minutes later the train arrived. I was in for

a surprise. We weren't going to ride in a passenger

car. Instead, as it came into the station, we walked

to the very end of the train.

"We are not Swiss," said Katrina, "but we are

newlyweds. I'm going to call the man we meet 'un-

cle.' We are Serbs. Otherwise everything is the

same."

I said, "Okay," but didn't like it. A lot of people

would remember us.

At the last moment we were ushered aboard the

caboose. It was an old car, darkly lit with ancient

yellow lamps, and permeated by smells of smoke,

wine, coffee, and the men who spent their hours

there. There were no bunks, but leather couches

had been pushed against all the walls of the two

compartments into which the car was divided.

Katrina's "uncle" introduced us. When they heard

we were newlyweds, our reception was even heart-

ier and all the more enthusiastic. We spent the next

hours being toasted and bearing the brunt of new-

lywed jokes.

After I had five or six glasses of wine I decided to

show Katrina a bit of affection. She was becoming

loud and boisterous, and finally relaxing a little af-

ter so many days of tension. One of the old gray-

beards even serenaded us accompanying himself on

the gusle, the ancient Slav single-strained violin.

88


88

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

Katrina used the opportunity to slip free of my

friendly clutches and dance with every man

aboard. Pretty soon she was sitting across from me

patting some guy on the knee. I decided to get

some air and went out and stood between the cars.

I took a deep breath and filled my lungs with the

cool damp air.

"A beautiful woman, your wife." I turned to see

I had been joined by three of the trainmen, who

had come out to smoke.

"Yes," I said, "she is lovely."

"It is good to begin a marriage in the country,"

said the graybeard. "The soul has room to breathe ,

to quiet itself, and commune with nature."

"Yes," I said.

'KI am happy that you agree," the old man re-

plied.

"You want to get off at Visoko?" asked a

younger trainman, changing the subject. I nodded.

"We don't normally stop there. You will have to

be ready and get off quickly. It's against regu-

lations to stop."

"We appreciate your help. Katrina really wants

to see her relatives there. "

"l thought she said old school friend?"

"Yes, well she is a little embarrassed that she

misses her family so much."

"Oh, sure, I understand. After all she is married

now and will not cee them often."

We rejoined the rest of the crew. There was more

singing and dancing. Toward morning everyone

dozed, exhausted from the night's revelry. I awoke

earlier than the rest and went out to see what morn-

ing was like. Grusha came with me and soon had

her muzzle stuck out in the wind. The sky had

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

89


89

cleared during the night and the whole landscape

had that fresh appearance you see only after a rain.

I watched the lime-green fields roll by. It was nice

to see a bit of the country.

"You son-of-a-bitch." I turned to see Katrina.

"What did O'Qu tell those men about me? They

looked at me very strangely."

"Nothing, Katrina. What could I tell them?"

She looked at me skeptically.

"I'd like to know our destination. I've been put

on the spot several times already. One of these days

it's not liable to be that funny."

"We are getting off at Visoko," she said. Then

she turned abruptly and went inside. I let out a

deep breath.

Three hours later we arrived. Katrina and I

stood at the end of the car with our packs on, wait-

ing for the train to pull up. Katrina told me they

were actually letting us off a little past Visoko so

there wouldn't beany trouble with the station mas-

ter. A quarter mile past the tiny village the train

braked to a stop. The train already was moving

again by the time we clambered down the embank-

ment.

"It's a twelve-mile walk to Sarajevo. We

couldn't very well have taken the train into the sta-

tion. It might be watched. We'll rent a car there."

The rest of the walk was uneventful. We reached

the outskirts of Sarajevo and then walked into the

central city. The city was a center of Turkish au-

thority when the Turks occupied much of Yugo-

Slavia, until the last century, and it had a pro-

nounced oriental flavor. noticed several mosques

as well as Christian churches. Katrina seemed to

know where she wanted to go and it soon became

90


90

+ 110%

NICK CARTER

apparent that we were going to a car rental office.

I agreed to go and rent the car myself while

Katrina waited at an outdoor café. I decided to use

my Belgian passport rather than the Swiss papers

Katrina had given me. Everything went smoothly

until it came time to actually pick up the car. I was

told I'd have to wait a half an hour until the car

was serviced. I walked out the door into the bright

sunlight, when I saw Jimmy Walker, one of the

Company's residents in Yugoslavia. More im-

portantly he saw me. I jaywalked across the street

to meet him. There was nothing else I could do. We

were, if not old friends, then long-time acquaint-

ances. We shook hands, eyeing each other's big

smiles. I had a problem, and I wondered if he had

one. I tried to read it from his eyes, but he was a

professional and I learned nothing.

"Nick, I'm amazed to find you in dull old Sara-

jevo. I won't ask what brings you our way. Hush,

hush, I'm sure."

'"You know why I'm here, Jimmy, as well as I

do." I watched him flush. I knew then he had been

told to keep an eye out for me. Probably every

Company agent in Yugoslavia had been told that.

I wondered how much he knew. He was probably

just making the rounds. He'd have people in his

pay at the pinch points of the city—the railway sta-

tion, bus depot, and airport. What worried me was

that some of them also might work for OZNA.

Suddenly it occurred to me how to test him. I'd

walk him right by Katrina. If he recognized her,

then I'd have to find a way to get out of this.

Katrina was waiting a block away. We started

walking along together.

"You know, Jimmy, AXE and the Company

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE


****** Result for Image/Page 1 ******

91

(99 of 260)

+ 110%

THE DUBROVNIK MASSACRE

91

don't always see eye to eye, but we are on the same

side, aren't we, old buddy? And we both follow the

Man's orders. I mean, interservice rivalry has got-

ten out of hand in the past."

"Nick, Nick, what a way to talk. Not only do we

work for ttie-same side, but you and I are old

friends. We've never had any problems with you,

Nick; it's David Hawk. The guy has a strange at-

titude. He may have said some things to the Man

that weren't in his sister service's interest, but that's

done and forgotten."

"I'm glad to hear that, Jimmy, because, for ex-

ample, if you were to inadvertently blow my mis-

sion, I'd come here and have a talk with you."

"Nick, Nick, how could you even suggest such a

thing? This is your old friend, Jimmy, not some

thug you don't know. We're on the same side, bud-

dy. Hey, remember those dancers in Morocco?

What a night! You and me struggling against in-

ternational Communism, side by side, shoulder to

shoulder, for a better world."

We walked by Katrina. He looked her over,

pausing at all the right places, but otherwise

showed no sign of recognizing her. I supposed he

had not been told much more than to keep a

lookout for me. Katrina betrayed no emotion, but

I could tell by her rigid posture that she was wor-

ried. I gestured for her to stay put as subtly as I

could.

' 'Nick, let's stop in a bar and have a couple of

I had been wondering how to deal with

drinks."

Jimmy and his invitation looked like the way out of

my problem.

"Yeah, let's have a drink," I said. I planned to

make sure I picked the bar. We walked a couple of


13586