# Deep Sea Death22

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"You will not rise in my presence," Zenda] screamed at

them.

They all sat and waited for him to rise and leave.

they left in twos and threes, every man grumbling at the

humility of catering to the man's ego. They were

as much as the others, the ones he fed and clothed regally.

ney hated him, but they were not going to back away

now. If it weren't for all the money he promised. .


SEVEN

The first order of business finished, Carter searched for

dry brush firewood. He soon had a fire going and a pan of

saltwater bass and some fries sizzling in a thin coating of

vegetable oil. The fish had come from the sea after ten

minutes of patient wading with a sharp stick in his

right hand. The potatoes and oil had been in one of the

packs.

The smell of the cooking food made his mouth water.

When he was able to dish up the food in an army-issue

mess can, it was the tESt he'd tasted in as long as he could

remember.

Carter scoured his cooking gear with beach sand and

stowed everything in the packs, everything but the land

station. He placed that on a flat rock near the sand where it

was out of the way but within easy reach.

The sand was warm under his back. The sky had cleared

and was studded with jewels that flashed down at Carter

like those in photos in travel brochures back home. Things

weren't all that bad. He'd had one hell of a day but here he

was on a Pacific island, the balmy breezes caressing his

skin, plenty of fish in the sea, and his old buddy Schmidt

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on his way to provision him. Ihe death of Stonewall

Kuhuhu saddened him, however.

Hc was about to take out his personal and

check them when something sprang at him from out of the

darkness. It was smaller than he was, with long hair and

sharp talons. It knocked the wind out of Carter in its first

charge as it came through the air, landing on his belly with

all its weight.

Carter was on his feet in a split second, gasping for air,

but his attacker was faster. Before Carter could get set, a

judo chop caught him in his unprotected belly and a swing-

ing reverse leg kick caught him on the side of the head. He

went down, grazing his head against a rtEk. A red haze

blocked his vision as he took two more kicks to the ribs

that almost broke the bones.

His confused mind dreamed up all kind of horror stories

while he was trying to orient himself. Was it one of the

shell-shocked Japanese who had held out after the war?

Were aboriginal tribes still inhabiting these deserted rocks?

He was coherent enough to erase the last assumption. 'Ihe

attack had come from an e)qE1t in the martial arts.

His assailant was violent in its attack, panting and grunt-

ing with fear and effort. With Carter down, it flew at him

before he could recover, its body stretched to its full length

just a foot or two above the sand. Again it landed on him

and knocked the air out of his lungs.

In desperation, Carter grabbed at the enemy's wrists and

hung on. The wrists were thin but wiry. A mass of soft

hair blocked his vision, lashing at him like whips as its

owner moved back and forth trying to free its wrists.

Signals reached Carter's brain from all over his body.

He was still confused from hitting his head, but the signals

were familiar and because of the familiarity, further con-

fused his tired brain.

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His chest told him that a pair of soft breasts were

pressed against him. His thighs sent out the message that

the thighs rubbing against his were familiar and exciting.

His nose told him that the smell of the hair and the odors

of the body were female.

"Wait!" he managed to croak out in the middle of the

battle, just as a knee was reaching for his groin. "Hold

it!" he ras1Ed as he twisted to avoid the knee that caught

him in his inner thigh, too close for comfort. "Just a

damned minute!"

The woman on top of him stopped struggling. He brought

her arms down to her sides but held on to the nen

the tide of his emotions changed from battle to interest and

something began to stir in his loins. Given time to examine

her by the light of the stars, he found that she was beauti-

ful. He released her wrists and she crawled away and stood

in the pale glow of distant suns.

She was txautiful, indeed magnificent, a blonde about

five feet eight, well proportioned, muscular, and a master

of the martial arts. But what was she doing here? And why

was she naked?

"Who are you?" he asked, rubbing the cut on the side

of his head.

"Are you American?" she countered.

"As apple pie," he said. "Where did you learn to fight

like that?"

"Can you get me out of here? They've killed my friends,"

she said, tears starting to roll down her cheeks, the shock

of the encounter with him starting to take hold.

"You're Dr. Barbara Wall," he said slowly, wondering

why he hadn't thought of it before. "I thought Zendal had

you stashed away." He moved to the remains of his fire

and sat, then motioned her to sit close by on a smooth rock

that jutted from the sand.

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His chest told him that a pair of soft breasts were

pressed against him. His thighs sent out the message that

the thighs rubbing against his were familiar and exciting.

His nose told him that the smell of the hair and the odors

of the body were female.

"Wait!" he managed to croak out in the middle of the

battle, just as a knee was reaching for his groin. "Hold

it!" he ras1Ed as he twisted to avoid the knee that caught

him in his inner thigh, too close for comfort. "Just a

damned minute!"

The woman on top of him stopped struggling. He brought

her arms down to her sides but held on to the nen

the tide of his emotions changed from battle to interest and

something began to stir in his loins. Given time to examine

her by the light of the stars, he found that she was beauti-

ful. He released her wrists and she crawled away and stood

in the pale glow of distant suns.

She was txautiful, indeed magnificent, a blonde about

five feet eight, well proportioned, muscular, and a master

of the martial arts. But what was she doing here? And why

was she naked?

"Who are you?" he asked, rubbing the cut on the side

of his head.

"Are you American?" she countered.

"As apple pie," he said. "Where did you learn to fight

like that?"

"Can you get me out of here? They've killed my friends,"

she said, tears starting to roll down her cheeks, the shock

of the encounter with him starting to take hold.

"You're Dr. Barbara Wall," he said slowly, wondering

why he hadn't thought of it before. "I thought Zendal had

you stashed away." He moved to the remains of his fire

and sat, then motioned her to sit close by on a smooth rock

that jutted from the sand.

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recourse? A different university and the same problems all

over again? A foreign government who will listen? I sus-

pect this haplxns all too often," he went on, watching her

face for a reaction.

g 'Where do you think he got the hundreds of malcon-

tents I saw serving him?" he asked. "They all had to

dissatisfied. You can't tell me that you're not constantly

short of funds and encouragement." He put another piece

of driftwood on the fire and turned to her. ' 'We treat our

scientists like children and our and military

leaders like gods. In my opinion it should be the other way

around."

think I'm going to like you, Nick Carter," she said,

her smile something to behold. "But do you know what

attracted me to you in the first place?"

"My sparkling

' 'Your excellent cooking. lhe smell of your wafted

across the whole island. I didn't trace the smell here until

you'd cleaned up and sat back for a rest."

"Something tells me you're hungry," he said with a

grin, rising to take the gear from his pack again. "Do you

know how to catch fish here?" he asked.

"Never learned. You've got a pole and

"No. You've got to use native techniques. Tell you

what. You build up the fire and put some oil in the and

I'll be back in a few minutes. "

While he was gone it gave her time to think as she went

through the menial tasks. She found dehydrated ptatoes,

peas, and corn in the pack, prepared them, and stirred

them in a thin coating of oil. She could hardly

they'd sent one man to rescue her whole expedition. But,

she figured, that had to tell her something about him.

True, he was big and strong and seemed comlEtent. And——

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she couldn't suppress a smile-—he was a hell of a good-

mcing guy.

Caner returned with two fish still flapping on the end o

a pointed stick. He took his sharp stiletto from his backpack

and filleted the fish skillfully. He flippd the boneless

pieces in the pan with the partially cooked vegetables and

worked at her meal while she watched. In minutes, he

covered her thighs with a half-dozen broad leaves, then

scooped the whole pot of food onto a broad leaf and placed

it on her lap.

"I'm going for a swim," he announced casually. "Fight

ing a female tiger in the sand makes a dip in a tidal pool

sound like a distinct pleasure."

She sat and watched him as he swam to the coral ree

that formed the tidal pool and joined him as soon as sh

was finished. They swam together for a few minutes, the

walked side by side to a flat rock not far from shore an

stretched out looking at the stars.

"There's something weird about all this," she said, th

first one to speak.

"What's that?"

"We're both naked. We've never seen each othe

dressed."

"The natives in these islands didn't develop

until the missionaries came," he said.

"Did they make love often?" she asked.

' 'It was a natural function they indulged in every tim

the urge was upon them, and that was often. Civilizatio

inhibits freédom of action, the act of doing what come

naturally."

"You're a very serious man," she said, turning on he

side and raising herself on one elbow.

' 'And you are a beautiful woman. I can't imagine spoil

ing what you are by clothing you."

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"Speaking of 'doing what comes naturally,' doesn't

this night, this situation, make you feel like it's a good

"I have to admit, the thought has crossed my mind."

She laughed, a nice laugh, easy and real. "You have

remarkable control, Nick Carter. "

"A necessary ingredient in the art of love. A woman

doesn't want to thrown on the ground and ravished. She

wants to be courted, admired, given self-esteem, and in

the end, she wants to be loved tenderly—tenderly but

thoroughly."

' 'Your knowledge of women seems pretty thorough . .

He reached for her. know a lot about life, Barbara,

and women and love are a part of that . . . "

Their mouths came together and each reached for the

other as if being close was the most important thing in the

world. Her tongue teased his lips, begging for entry, and

once inside, worked at his mouth like a warm serpent of

love, bent on driving him wild. She built an urge in him so

quickly that neither was interested in further foreplay. He

rolled on top of her as she spread herself to receive him

and found himself enveloped in a furnace that had been

smoldering for hours.

She was as ready as he. 'Ihe short battle and the magic

of their island refuge acted as an aphrodisiac, forcing her

to satisfy the heat of passion her body demanded—not in

minutes from now, but right away. She clung to him,

moved with him, and felt a climax coming that she knew

instinctively they would both share.

It welled up within them both, urging them on, more

like two combatants than lovers. They rolled on the sand

and fought a battle for the prize that was so close, held so

much promise, and was easily within their reach.

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ne wave of feeling, of excitement that was like an

inner fire, consumed them as they lashed at each other,

moving their loins in a cadence that was close to physical

pain. The feeling persisted until they could not maintain

the inhuman pace any longer. •niey started to savor the

trginning of an afterglow that would last well beyond the

pounding of hearts, the burning of lungs, the need to hold

and smother each other with kisses of gratitude and wonder.

They lay still in the sand, still clasped as close together

as was possible, until one hand moved to caress, a foot ran

along a sandy thigh, a head moved to look into eyes that

were half-closed with contentment.

"What was that?" Barbara sighed. "Where did it come

from? That was extraordinary.

"It's this whole crazy situation," Carter reasoned. "You

can't plan things like this."

"I've heard that violent death can drive those close to it

to greater passion," she said, her voice deep and hoarse.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm just overwhelmed. I've never

experienced anything like it in my whole life."

He rolled to his side and looked down at her, at the

golden halo of hair fanned out around her head, at the

reflection of the stars in her hazel eyes, at the whiteness of

her small, even teeth. She was a woman who would have

brought out the best in him no matter the circumstance.

Her eyes met his, and her face broke into a smile. 'SI

don't run into men like you every day. I'm usually sur-

rounded by stuffy old men or overeager graduate students.

I've never found academia to be a place for romantic

fulfillment," she added, stretching in his arrn, then rolling

from him and running to the tidal pool.

He watched her run, her firm buttocks demanding his

attention. He was about to jump up and follow her when

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the earth station came to life with the crackling of an

indistinct voice.

He grabbed the push-to-talk handset and SB)ke as clearly

as possible as he watched her break the water in a shallow

dive. "N3. Say again. I didn't hear your0!Ening message."

"Schmidt calling. Hold for him," a nasal-sounding voice

came at him.

"Nick. Are you all right?"

Carter almost choked out a laugh but restrained himself.

At that moment he was far better than all right. "I'll do.

Where are you""

"Passing your location on a regular sea-lane. I'm break-

ing away in a separate craft and should be there in two

hours."

"Two hours. I hear you loud and clear. What kind of

craft?"

"Pleasure boat. mn't worry about it. I've got it all

worked out. I need a sheltered cove on the lee side of your

island. South or north?"

"Try west. Fortunately, the lee side is the opposite side

from Zendal's strange kingdom. "

"Look for me in two hours. Over and out."

Carter put down the microphone and thought about his

longtime friend. He didn't like to see AXE's records man,

their resident genius with gadgetry, this close to danger.

But he needed help and perhaps Schmidt had thought of

something to stop Zendal.

His attention was caught by the splash of kicking feet as

Barbara sprinted across the tidal pool. Instinctively he

raced to the water and paned it in a racing dive. He swam

underwater and grabbed her as she made a turn for another

lap.

They came up out of the water gasping. Her mouth

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sought his as he held her. The water came to his chest as

his feet spread on the sandy bottom, providing a firm

platform for the two of them.

She wrapped her legs around him and would not release

his mouth. She moaned at the feel of him, knowing what

was to come.

They had two hours of paradise tEfore the reality of

their goals caught up with them. They'd make the most of

it.


EIGHT

At first all Carter could find in his pack for Barbara to

wear was a tank-style undershirt. Standing in front of him,

the fabric stretched taut by her thrusting breasts, she lcx)ked

very sexy. They had seen Schmidt on the horizon and they

had to get down to the cove to welcome him. To cover her

lower half, the best he could manage was a pair of his

*'one size fits all" bikini briefs. They made her look even

more sexy.

Hand in hand, they crossed over several ragged outcrop-

pings of rcxk to a natural break in the sheer cliff face

around the corner from the beach. It was wedge-shaped, a

hundred feet deep and fifty feet across at its widest point.

A shelf of rock, smooth as a billiard table, jutted from the

cliffside ten feet from the water's edge.

Schmidt brought the fifty-foot Chriscraft in with the

expertise that could only be gained from countless week-

ends srrnt sailing his own craft on the waters of the

Potomac and Chesapeake Bay. The big man, grizzled by a

fresh growth of beard, greeted Carter effusively then stared

in amazed wonder at the scantily clad beauty at his side.

"This is Barbara Wall," Carter said, grinning like a kid

showing off his new scooter. "Doctor Barbara Wall. "

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swear, Nicholas, you'd come up with a female com-

panion if stranded in the Kalahari," he said, using Carter's

full name as he did when he was either annoyed or too

surprised to do otherwise. "But we obviously have to get

her some clothes," he added.

"nat can wait. Zendal's people had to see you coming

in. We've got to do something to throw them off, camou-

flage this floating little palace."

"Say no more, old boy," Schmidt said, moving to the

bridge. He pushed a button and an electric motor hummed.

From the deck of the center cockpit, a hidden flap

orrn and a mast started to rise until it

thirty feet over their heads. At the push o

another button, the top of the mast started to open like a

huge ungainly umbrella, thin steel ribs pushing cloth out-

ward until the edges touched the rcxk on both sides

stuck as if glued.

"I told you about this character," Carter said proudly,

grinning. "He's really something."

g SAn encore?" Schmidt asked.

"Yes, please," Barbara asked, smiling up at the clo

that was almost a mesh. It didn't keep out the sunlight bu

undoubtedly camouflaged the craft from anyone more th

a hundred feet away.

While she ogled the huge cover with amazement, Schmid

flipped another switch and artificial palm trees sprang fro

several places on the huge canopy, their fronds movin

naturally on the sea breeze.

"I have meal fit for royalty ready in the galley, Nick

and your favorite Italian red. You want to eat or see so

more Schmidt magic?"

"Let's see what you've brought," Barbara asked, cla

ping her hands like a kid waiting for Christmas morning.

"We'll get you some clothes first," Schmidt said, hi

eyes still on the bulges created by her breasts.

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"To hell with clothes," Barbara replied. "Show us

more of your inventions. "

ney followed him to the aft stateroom that had been

stripped and converted to a launching area. It was dark.

Schmidt didn't turn on any lights. They could see that

pneumatic arrns held the entire stern closed. While they

watched, Schmidt lowered the steel sheeting of the stem to

water level and the light revealed two undersea sleds un-

like any Carter had ever seen. They were at the

bow, flat at the stern, and were driven by two cylinders

each with an aft propeller. Above the flat surface of the

craft, a half-dozen rocket mounts held projectiles of a type

unknown to Carter.

"What are they?" he asked.

"You've heard of cluster bombs?" Schmidt said.

g 'Sure."

"I haven't," Barbara answered, fascinated.

"Cluster bombs can be droprEd from the underbelly of

almost any kind of aircraft. They can be set to explode any

distance from the ground above a hundred feet. When they

let go, they eject hundreds of small bombs that fan out and

explode over the heads of the enemy," Schmidt explained.

"So what's the similarity here?" Carter asked.

"These can set in the same way. ney have three

triggers each, twenty, fifty, and a hundred feet. You press

a trigger and at the planned distance, they explode, send-

ing hundreds of darts in an arc of ninety degrees."

Carter looked at his old friend with amazement. "l

didn't know you dabbled in this kind of thing," he said.

s 'I don't normally. The small weapon that will help

get an agent out of trouble, that sort of thing, but seldom

anything like this."

"What made you do it?" Carter asked.

"A dream I had out on the ChesaExake one night.

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Damned real, too. Saw you in hand-to-hand fighting un-

derwater with a dozen men. Seemed unfair. I've

playing with this ever since."

"What made you bring it now? r thought you were just

playing the big man with Hawk away."

"No such thing," Schmidt said indignantly. heard

that your assignrnent was to find scientists who use under-

water gear. I'd squirreled some AXE funds away for emer-

gencies, and designed this and the sleds. The bombs

were an afterthought. I almost didn't build them."

"What are these?" Barbara asked, pinting to equip-

ment hanging from the walls.

"New kind of scuba gear. I talked to Cousteau atx)L1t an

improved version once. His idea. Don't know if he ever

followed up."

"How do they work?" Barbara asked, taking one from

the wall and putting her arms into the webbing like an

exrErt.

"Double valve system. Each sled is atomic-driven. ne

power pack runs an oxygen plant similar to the ones used

in space. You plug into the sled's supply when towed

behind the sled. When you pull away, your own valve

takes over and feeds from your own tank."

"What happens to the sled when you let go—if you

have to leave it to attack or explore?" Carter asked.

*'It goes to the bottom and sits, waiting," Schmidt

answered proudly. "When you plug into its system again,

the double valye inlet will recharge your tank."

"And if the water's very deep?"

'SNO problem. They sink very slowly."

"Fantastic!" Barbara said, hugging the big man.

"Now I know we have to get you some clothes,"

Schmidt kidded. "I've been locked away from specimens

like you too long."

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He took them on a tour of the boat. Even with the aft

cabin used for diving, they still had a large master state-

rmrn and two smaller sleeping rcoms. "I'm in one of

these," Schmidt said. "You two can do what you want

with the other two. Every tYIE of clothing is in the master

Why don't you explore while I dish out the

food. Ten minutes, okay?"

When they came to the main salon in denim shorts and

white shirts, the table was set for three. Glasses of ruby-

colored Valplicella were standing at each place, a pan of

lasagna and one of cannelloni were in warming plates.

Schmidt was in the process of dishing out a serving of

each to them.

"My favorite food!" Barbara exclaimed, taking a fork-

ful of the lasagna and washing it down with the earthy red

wine. "My God," she went on, "this is wonderful, How-

ard. You're as amazing as Nick said and then sorne."

While they ate, they heard a patrol boat pass their

position and keep going.

"One of Zendal's," Carter said.

"I'm surprised they couldn't smell the food," Barbara

said, stopping only long enough to make the comment.

g 'The canopy filters out pollution and keeps odors in,"

Schmidt said casually. Then he brought the conversation to

its core. "What's your plan?" he asked.

"I've got to get into Zendal's operation and act as one

of them for a few hours," Carter said. "I'm not convinced

all the people he's lured there are evil. Maybe the security

people are, but not the scientists. I refuse to kill them all

just to stop him."

"You're right. They could under some hypnotic

influence," Barbara offered, wiping her mouth with a

napkin and pouring some more wine. can't believe so

many responsible scientists would delitrrately threaten our

society."

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"I'm convinced he's doping their food with something,"

Carter said. "I've got two jobs in his domain. One is to

confirm that he's feeding them something, and the other is

to sabotage his paging system to announce that they all

have to get out. A bomb scare or something like that."

"But how will they get out?" Schmidt asked.

' 'Zendal always has at least two submarines loading or

unloading. Empty of cargo and weapns, two subs can

take them all out while he's busy with the destroyer."

"l can help with the sound system. I've got some

remote-control electronics in my workshop aboard. The

range can be increased to ten miles if need be."

"How would it work?" Barbara asked.

"Nick plants an announcement in their sound system.

We can make one up in minutes. I've got a small remote-

control recorder he can tap into their system. We trigger it

anytime we want," Schmidt explained.

"Did you notify the admiral?" Caner asked.

' 'I did but he sounded skeptical."

' 'Can you get him for me now?"

'S Why not? If he's there," Schmidt said, tuming to a

ship-to-shore set and spinning the dial. "Schmidt to U.S.

naval base, Pearl Harbor. Urgent to Admiral Brenner.

Code double yellow. "

"What's double yellow?" Barbara whispered.

'*Immediate. Your ears only. "

"Jesus!" she said. v 'Little boys playing war."

Carter said nothing. It would be a futile argument. He

waited for Brenner.

"COMPAC is ready," a detached voice came on. "Are

you ready?"

' 'Put Brenner on," Carter said.

' 'Brenner," the line crackled. "That Schmidt again?"

g 'No. Nick Carter. Howard Schmidt was relaying my

intelligence. "

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"That fits the pattern better. So I'm getting this from

some superspook who works for an agency that no one has

ever heard of. Great," he snapped into the radio, his voice

filled with sarcasm.

' 'Listen carefully, Admiral. I've been in this madman's

domain. He has weaponry you've never even dreamed of.

He can take the Lance from you if you don't take immedi-

ate action."

"Stuff it, Carter. You're as crazy as the man you're

trying to sell me. This whole story is utterly prepster-

ous," he said as the line went dead.

Barbara and Schmidt had been listening on an external

speaker. "Well!" she said disgustedly. ' 'Is that what your

military is like? My G(Ni! Are mine like that too?"

"Just a few who have egos t(X) big for their heads,"

Schmidt suggested. "What are you going to do, Nick? We

could get Hawk to go to the top on this one."

Carter had been working it out. It would take time to get

to Hawk in transit, and the head man of AXE would have to

get in touch with his contacts in Washington. Then they'd

walk on eggs to avoid bruising egos at the offices of the

Joint Chiefs of Staff. Brenner wouldn't get the message for

days.

"No way we'll have time," Carter said. "I've got to

infiltrate alone. But I'll need your help in planning. First

things first—how am I going to get in?"

' S lhere's no way you're going to go in alone. No

damned way!" Barbara said hotly.

They both looked at her, surprised.

"I'm the expert on caverns here. If his place is as big as

you say, he's got to have ventilators. I can find them more

easily than you can."

"And I can give you metal detectors," Schmidt added.

"Better both of you go than one. "

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g 'I mn my own show, Howard. You know that. She

stays."

' 'She gcrs," Barbara retorted. "Would you rather agree

and have rrr accompany you, or would you rather I just

followed?"

Carter had been up against stubbom women and

could seldom remember winning an argument. But, dam-

mit, some of them had killed in the

many of tlrm. He used that fact as an argurnent, but it

didn't change her mind.

"l can probably handle the problem in the kitchen, the

drug thing, while you handle the electronics. It'll uke us

half the time. In and out in a hurry. Better than you being

to twice-—"

"All right!" he interrupted. "You win. But I'm not

sure you should handle the drug angle. Someone will have

to be Frsuaded to talk and that could take some muscle."

g 'And I don't have muscle?"

"I didn't mean it that way," he said, rernemtxring the

way they'd met all too well. "It might mean threatening

death. Could you do that?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment or two. "I used to

a devout pacifist. But you can't let them push you

around. They killed

' she said, her voice almost

choking on the words.

SSWhat about my dmg pack?" Schmidt suggested.

'*You've used it often enough in the past."

"What's that?" she asked, her voice almost back to

normal.

" Three drugs with small syringes in a neat package: one

to use as a knockout tool, one as a truth drug, the last one

lethal," Schmidt said.

"Christ, I'd hate to get them mixed up."

"So just take the truth drug."

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Carter listened to them and resigned himself to the fact

that she was going. she had a right. They'd killed

her colleagues and tried to kill her. He'd seen the massive

bruise on one side of her chest.

'*I'll miniaturize a drug kit for you in a waterproof

pack. Anything else?" Schmidt asked.

"Nothing I can think of right now. I don't like the idea

of you being in the line of fire," he told his old friend.

g 'I won't I'm staying right here. Catch up on my

fishing. Brought some gear along."

"No way. Stay inside this cover. That's a hard-and-fast

rule. I'd feel t*tter if you were out of it altogether."

"Hey. I'm not going outside this cover for a million

bucks. Not yet, anyway. Just think of me sitting here by

the rail, rod in hand, a cold trer at my side, and the radio

on."

Carter laughed and got up to go to bed. think we'd

all better get a few hours' sleep."

"I'm going to do the dishes and I'll be right along,"

Barbara said.

"No way, young lady. My ship, my dishes. You're no

galley slave. Off to bed with you."

She followed Carter to the master stateroom and was

about to close the door when the voice of AXE's resident

genius boomed out behind her. "And try to get some

sleep. At least an hour or two."

Inside the huge caverns that stretched through most of an

underwater range heading away from the island base occu-

pied by Schmidt and his sleek craft, Zendal sat in his

throne room, his chief of security standing at attention in

front of him. "You're telling me that our radar picked up a

sizable blip breaking away from the freighter then disap-

raring from our screens? What about sensors? Did we

pick up propellor noise?"

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NICK CARTER

"Yes, Excellency," Schnieder answered. "Twin screws.

A good-sized boat. We estimated her to at least fifty

feet, probably a pleasure boat."

"Estimated? Probably? What kind of answers are those?

want to know exactly what she was and where she

went. "

"But we've had every surface craft we own out looking

for her, Excellency. She's just not there."

"Send them out again, fool!" he screamed at Schnieder.

' 'What was her track when you heard her screws? When

did you lose her? Scour that area again and again and if

you don't find her, have the men crawl over every inch of

rrxk within twenty miles of where you lost her."

"As you command, Excellency."

"You don't seem very enthusiastic," andal spat. "Let

me catalogue your failures for you. First you permitted an

enemy agent to infiltrate this installation. Next you permit-

ted him to You lost several in the process.

You think I can produce new clones for you at a moment's

notice?"

"No, Excellency."

"You told me that Carter did not survive your attack,

but you never saw his body. I'd anything he's alive. I

know his kind. He's out to destroy me. He'll be back and

we must alert for him. Now do you see why we can't

just write off an unsuccessful search? Find that boat for

me or don't bother to come back!"

When Schneider had saluted and scurried from his pres-

ence, Zendal .called in the man who controlled all his

scientific Frsonnel. "Report on our state of prepared-

ness," he commanded.

U.S.S. Lance left Pearl Harbor at dawn this morn-

ing. She's headed our way. Taking her shakedown pro-

gram into account, she should be here in about forty-eight

hours."

DEEP SEA DEATH

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99

"You know I don't like approximations," Zendal

complained.

"Yes. I'm aware of your desire for precision," the chief

of 01xrations admitted. He was a man just past middle

years, a German who spoke English precisely but with

gutteral pronunciation. "But the Lance's captain is al-

lowed some latitude. We'll monitor her movernents closely

and we'll not caught off guard."

"God Excellent. In forty-eight hours I want to see our

magnetic field bring her closer to us. I want to see her go

down," Zendal said, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"It will have to be a very accurate firing, Excellency,"

the scientist said. "We have to take her down while she's

still on the Necker Shelf. If we miscalculate, she'll be in

five thousand feet of water and we'd never get at her cargo

before the navy'd be on to us."

Zendal scowled at the civilian. His ultimate goals would

not permit approximations or brook failure. "If she goes

down, if after all my planning you miscalculate, I'll use

my escape hatch and flood this whole orxration. You'll all

die a homble death, my friend——all of you. "

The tall scientist, his hair almost white, walked from the

room, his heart rate well above a hundred. The bastard, he

thought. The cold-blooded bastard.


NINE

After they had rested, Carter and Barbara made their

way to the main salon and found Schmidt in the process of

taking platters of eggs, ham, and sausages from a warming

oven. The smell of fresh coffee filled the luxurious living

quarters and galley. The big man, freshly shaved and

groomed, stood grinning at them, a srrcial smile for Bar-

bara. She and Carter had changed into thermal long johns

that would their only garments under the wet suits. The

thin cloth showed off every line of her superb txxiy.

"l know it's the middle of the night, but I've prepared

breakfast," Schmidt said. *'Sit and eat trfore you take

off."

"Just coffee and a piece of toast for me," Carter said.

e 'I don't like to go into action with a gut full of food."

"Well, I need the energy," Barbara said, sitting at one

of the places and piling food on her plate.

"I've been doing a final check for you when you're

ready," Schmidt said. ' 'I've got more to show you about

the sleds. "

Carter was finished eating and sat with a cigarette and

his second cup of coffee. He watched the woman fuel

herself for the battle ahead. He sometimes wished he could

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NICK CARTER

indulge himself in that way. But it had been ritual with

him: a surfeit of food made him sluggish. Some people

could burn off the excess energy easily, but he could not.

Schmidt sat, nursing his own coffee, never taking his

eyes from the golden-haired woman between them. Carter

was amused at the gadgets man he'd thought he could read

like a book. He had never seen Schmidt completely daz-

zled by a woman, but then he usually saw the man in his

own domain.

Barbara seemed to be unaware of either of them. Eating

seemed to as much a vocation as a necessity for her.

Three eggs, two slices of ham, and a half-dozen sausages

were pulverized by the perfect white teeth and disappeared

into the seemingly bottomless pit that was her digestive

machine.

Finally, Barbara dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and

sat back, satisfied. "Let's see what you've done," she

said to Schmidt, offering up one of her devastating smiles.

He led them back to the stern hold. Ihey sat on bulk-

head benches while he (pled a sealed hatch on the portside

cylinder. "The atomic motor takes up only a small part of

the motor compartment. The forward section is lead-coated

to compensate for the weight aft. It makes for an ideal

storage compartment. Your gear can be stored in here—the

drug case, Nick's personal weapons, dry-land clothing."

"What about communication?" Barbara asked.

"The hoods of your wet suits contain miniaturized trans-

mitters," Schmidt explained. "They have two frequen-

cies. On one you can communicate through the water. The

range is low. On the other you can communicate with me.

You'll have to surface to accomplish that. The range hasn't

been fully tested, but it's at least ten miles."

"When we find the air vents, how do we get down

them?" she asked.

DEEP SEA DEATH

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103

"Most vents have intemal ladders. If they don't, Nick

will have a tool quite familiar to him—a thin wire around

his waist with a grappling hook attached."

"And once down the vent, how do we get in?"

"We should be able to force their openings," Carter

offered.

' 'And if you can't, I have these," Schmidt said, produc-

ing two strange objects. One lcÅ)ked like an oversize

the other more like a streamlined atomizer. ' 'This one"—he

indicated the object—"is a torch. Ihe other emits

a fine spray of acid that will cut through alloys or alumi-

num but not steel." He gave each of them one of his small

scuba tubes. "Use these for breathing while you cut through

the metal. "

"But we'll make noise in the process. We could be

detected from inside," Barbara objected.

communications package built into your hoods has

an attachment like a stethoscope," Schmidt answered,

offering his tESt smile. "It would be a good idea to keep

the hoods when you discard the scuba gear and wet suits. "

Carter sat through the question and answer session qui-

etly. Normally Schmidt would brief him and he would

listen. It seemed natural for Barbara to be the one to ask

questions. She wasn't a pro. Unlike Caner, she wasn't

accustomed to improvising as the job progressed. "What's

in the starboard motor casing?" he asked when Barbara

appeared to have exhausted her questions.

"I'd prefer to save that until we have them on the

run," Schmidt said, glancing at his watch. "It's past

midnight. Now's the best time for your sortie. Any more

questions?"

think we can take it from here," Carter said. "One

thing. What are these jets on the motors?"

"Damn! I'm glad you reminded me," Schmidt said.

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NICK CARTER

g ' The sleds normally cruise at up to twenty knots. But they

have jet pwer. The accelerator is on your rx)rtside handle.

Turn it cl(Xkwise and the jets burn in. They double your

top cruising sFed."

S'Forty knots?" Barbara asked. "Is that safe?"

"Your suits are specially designed. Besides, it's safer

than whatever's chasing you."

They put on their wet suits. Howard insisted on helping

Barbara, showing her the earpieces for communication and

the 100fEd around her neck.

Finally, Schmidt opened the stem bulkhead to a pitch-

black night. "You have headlights but I don't recommend

you use them. Zendal's island is on a traring of zero-eight-

zero degrees. You have a compass on your control panels.

He's eleven miles from here by my calculations. At twenty

knots you should reach there in a little more than thirty

minutes. You have sonar on your control panel. Nick can

figure it out."

*Ihe briefing had tren thorough. All the equiprnent woul

be helpful and Schmidt's work had teen As the

traveled side by side, getting the feel of the controls an

testing the communications setup, Carter marveled at th

sheer guts of the women he'd met. Barbara was spcial.

Now that they were underway, he was happy she was wit

him. His job was highly specialized. Someone had to d

it, but it was lonely. When you were out there alone

dependent on your wits and whatever weapons were

hand, it was like outer space, cold and uninviting.

He glanced at his sonar and saw that it was giving of

signals that were twice as powerful as when they'd left. H

glanced at his diver's watch and noted they'd been in

water for fifteen minutes. The two indicators checked out

they were halfway there.

At fifty fathoms the darkness was all-encompassing

DEEP SEA DEATH

105


105

ney were like pilots in a jet plane, totally on

their insuurnents. When the sonar read five degrees to

maximum, Carter called to Barbara to cut speed to five

knots and within minutes they saw the menacing base of

the island.

*Ihey'd made it. From here on they would working

on dry land instead of in the black depths. Carter was

about to start up the face of the rock when a half-dozen

lights came at them out of the gloom.

"Maneuver behind me, f' Carter ordered. e 'I'm going to

tum on my lights to see what we're up against."

They faced the enemy line astem when Carter turned on

his powerful lights. Harpoons and spears bombarded Car-

ter's sled as clouds of bubbles rose to the surface from gas

firing mechanisms.

'Ihe enemy was firing first. asking questions later—if

they had anyone left to ask. Carter was reluctant to use one

of his cluster weapons but saw no alternative. He maneu-

vered until his sled faced the oncoming divers and pulled

the trigger set for fifty feet.

He was not prepared for the result. In a split second, the

bomb shot forward and released a cloud of darts just

fifteen feet in front of the divers.

The darts were about six inches long. They looked like

four saber-saw blades welded together, with six fins at the

back to keep them on track. The field of fire at fifteen feet

from release was about twenty feet in diameter. ne darts

hit five of the men that Carter could see. A cloud of blood

filled the beam of his light and obscured his view.

Five of the six? He had to be sure.

"Stay where you are. Keep your lights offl We've got

one on the loose."

"I'm not crazy about staying here alone," the reply

came back. Barbara sounded scared for the first time.

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NICK CARTER

' 'It has to be done. I'll make it as fast as I can."

He went to full power, his lights sweeping the water and

rocks ahead. In seconds, he spotted the lone diver making

for the cover of a jagged formation. Carter had to get

him. They couldn't afford having Zendal know they were

this close.

Twenty feet from the swimmer, Carter let go of the

controls of the sled and swam. •nie Killmaster was smaller

but more skilled. lhe size and shagr of the diver mcd

like one of the clones. andal probably used them for all

his most dangerous tasks.

Carter caught up with him and applied an iron-fisted

hold to the man's temple. The clone tried to fight, but the

hold rendered him unconscious in seconds. Carter ripped

the hose from his mouth and left him floating free, starting

to descend to the bottom.

lhe sled had also started to descend but had not traveled

far. He turned it to catch up with Barbara only to find a

school of hammerhead sharks vieing with smaller sand

sharks for the bodies of the clones. The sea was a churning

mass of bmi and torn flesh in front of him. He shut of

his lights, switched. on his jets, and circled the feedin

frenzy within seconds.

"Flash your lights just once," he ordered Barbara.

He saw the flash and turned toward the signal, keepin

the sea around him dark. He didn't want to tun in

another patrol. They were undetected for the moment, bu

the patrol would be missed all too soon and these wate

would be swarming with searching clones.

Carter didn't like the idea of their sleds floating to th

bottom. He wanted them where he could retrieve the

easily. He led Barbara closer to the rock and brought th

sled to the surface.

Ihe moon was out, a yellow ball amid a curtain of stars

DEEP SEA DEATH

107


107

ne island lcxymed above them. Carter led the way to a

calmer area and found a shelf of rxk just below the

surface. He tied up his sled, picked out the tcx»ls he

needed, and headed to the surface using his scuba gear.

Barbara followed. She scrambled up the rock face with

more agility than he expected, despite t*ing burdened by a

metal detector and a pack that held the tools she would

As planned before they left, they fanned out, each with

a metal detector, and started to sweep the rock face for a

ventilator. Time dragged on for them. It was past two by

the time Barbara signaled that she'd found a breather cap

on a metal tutp almost concealed by camouflaged Styro-

foam that looked like the rock around it. The cap was

welded to the tutu Zendal wasn't taking any chances.

'lhey changed from scuba outfits to dry clothes and

sneakers but kept the hoods and communication gear. The

welding torch Carter carried peeled the top off the tube

within minutes, leaving a ragged edge.

"Be careful. This edge is sharp," Carter told Barbara as

he started down the wire he'd unwound from his

waist. It was secured by a grappling that had looked

like a Swiss army knife before he had opened all the

prongs.

The descent seemed endless. He wondered if this would

be their best avenue of escape. If they used any other exit,

they wouldn't have their underwater gear and they might

•not find the sleds.

ne vent seemed to go on forever. Carter could feel the

swing as Barbara descended a few feet above him. All the

while he descended, he could hear the ominous sound of a

giant fan below. If their line parted, if they lost their grip,

a multibladed meat grinder was waiting for them at the

bottom.

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NICK CARTER

Carter's flashlight picked out a about ten feet

above the blades of the fan. He signaled Barbara to stop

while he investigated the opening. It was flanged at the

edges, so he couldn't slip a probe in one side, but he soon

discovered that the lock consisted of a single metal tongue

holding the dcx)r. It was obviously .connected to a locked

handle on the other side.

First he pulled the from around his neck and

listened. He heard nothing but the roar of fans, the one

serving his tutr and several others not far away. He

couldn't hear the ordinary sounds of human presence: a

footfall, a cough, someone breathing nearby.

Carter pulled the torch from his pack and cut through

the inch-wide tongue of metal that secured the He

swung it ovrn slowly, but saw nothing and heard nothing.

He pulled himself through the two-foot-square 01rning and

signaled for Barbara to follow.

The door was an entry used to clean the shaft or remove

a foreign object. Ihey were standing in a

square room surrounded by doors leading to other tutRs.

Carter pulled off his hood and hung it just inside the door.

When Barbara had followed his lead, he shut the door and

braced it. Ihen he moved to the door on the other side of

the room and opened it a crack. No one was in the comdor

outside.

"The action outside, the cluster weapon, it shocked

you," he said, wanting to make sure Barbara could handle

what was to come."

"I'm not exactly used to. .

When my friends were

killed I panicked.

I'll be all right."

"Good girl. The guards are all mindless, almost like

robots. We have to think of them as robots," he ex-

plained. "They're expendable. If we're to save the others,

we can't be squeamish about killing the guards.

DEEP SEA DEATH

109


109

"Are you all right?" he asked before he qrned the

door.

"I'll do. I see the logic, but I'm not a killer," she said,

palming the silenced Beretta Schmidt had given her. "l

told you trfore, I was a confirmed pacifist until Zendal

killed my colleagues. Strange. I never thought I'd ever

change."

Carter could empathize with the woman. She'd tEen

through hell. But the job wouldn't wait. He took off his

small backpack and flipped it open. He put on a white lab

coat over his shirt. His Luger was in place under his left

armpit and his stiletto was in its sheath on his right forearm.

Barbara followed suit and slipped the Beretta into her

waistband.

"Okay. We fry to contact the scientists first. We need

intelligence and identification," Carter said.

They moved down a corridor toward a door showing

light through a crack at the bottom. Carter waved her

behind him, turned the handle, and moved into the room

with blinding speed.

They were in a dimly lit laboratory. Partly completed

clones lay on stone tables, bionic arms and legs next to

them ready for installation. Chests moved in unison as

human hearts trat out a steady rhythm. Eyes followed

them around the room but nothing was said, no alarm

given.

' 'It's horrible," she said, her hand to her mouth.

"Maybe it's just as well you saw this," he said, keep-

ing his voice as low as possible. "Remember this assem-

bly line when the time comes to defend yourself from

them. "

ney moved as silently as possible to the next door.

Carter swung it open and they were both inside in a

fraction of a second.

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NICK CARTER

Two clones sat at a bank of video screens. Unlike

normal humans, they didn't hesitate or show surprise.

They were out of their chairs and heading toward Carter

almost as fast as he had entered.

Carter sidestepped the first clone, and Hugo's needle-

sharp blade slid tktween the ribs of the second one. Before

Carter could turn back to the twin of the dying clone, the

giant with a steel grip had the A XF agent by the throat in a

death hold.

As red spots flashed in front of his eyes and the stiletto

clattered to the floor, Caner heard a coughing noise and

the hands left his throat. He slipped to his knees, still

dizzy, and saw Barbara, her gun in hand, pointing the

smoking muzzle at the clone. Mortally wounded, the crea-

ture fell against Caner, knocking him over.

"Are you all right?" Barbara asked, pulling the dead

guard from him.

' 'I'm okay," he said, reaching for Hugo. She looked

better than she had a few minutes earlier. The action had

been a steadying influence instead of a shock. Good. She

was going to all right.

Carter put her out of his mind for the moment and

scanned the wall in front of him. A schematic of the whole

underwater installation was spread out and labeled. "Look

at this," he said, motioning her forward. ' 'A lot of the

space is partitioned off. The scientists' quarters are here. "

He pointed to a section of the board. "It looks like we're

here. "

"Not very close," she sighed.

"We didn;t think this was going to be easy. Let's get

going. "

They moved from hallway to hallway, trying to look

happy and confident, as if they had every right to be there.

They were almost to the civilian quarters when they were

stopped.

DEEP SEA DEATH

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111

Tlis time neither of them hesitated. As soon as the two

suspicious guards asked their identities and started to un-

sling their rifles, one took a slug in the chest from the

Beretta and the other a stiletto in the heart.

"lhere's a storage room here," Barbara whispered to

him, holding the door while he dragged the muscular

clones inside.

"We've got to keep going," he urged. Before they

moved on, he moprrd blood from the floor with one of the

light blue tunics worn by all the clones.

'Ihe civilian quarters looked the same as all the other

rooms leading off all the corridors. lhey were simply

numbered.

"What we need is one couple. We uy to get through to

them, to have them act as a conduit to the others. And we

need identity badges," he said, his hand on the doorknob

of the first door on the right.

A man slept alone in a bed in the far comer.

' 'This could be the single quarters," he whispered as he

closed the door.

Barbara tried a door on the other side. A couple was

sleeping in a double bed in the room. Ihe quarters were

Spartan. In addition to the bed, two chairs, a dresser, one

mirror, and one picture was all the room contained.

"Put your hand over the woman's mouth and the gun to

her head," Carter ordered as he flipped Hugo into his right

hand and pressed the tip to the man's neck. ' 'Wake up,"

he hissed in the man's ear. "And don't move or you're

dead. "

The man came out of a deep sleep with a start that

pushed the stiletto into his skin. The wife's eyes were wild

above Barbara's slim hand.

' 'Be still and we won't hurt you," Carter said as calmly

as he could. He nodded to Barbara. "It's all right. Take

your hand away."

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NICK CARTER

"Who are you?" the woman SB)ke first, terrified.

C' Agents of the United States government sent to rescue

you," Carter said.

"From what?" the man asked, sincerely confused.

"Surely you know. Zendal is a threat to the whole

world. He plans to steal atomic weapns and blackmail the

United States and other powers," Barbara added.

' 'Ihat's nonsense," the man scoffed. "Dr. Zendal is

genius. The who run govemments don't appreciat

his contributions to science. "

' 'You'll go on working for a man who intends to sink

American naval vessel to steal nuclear weam)ns?" Barbar

asked. "What kind of Frople are you?"

Carter waved he off. "Give me the leather case an

keep your gun on them," he ordered.

He administered a dose of the kn(Ekout drug that woul

keep them out for a few hours. "It's no use," he told h

as he worked. "They can't see our logic, not until th

mind-controlling drug he's got them on wears off. We tak

their badges and do what we came here for," Carter said

packing the syringes back in the case and putting it in th

pocket of her lab coat. "Do you rememtrr which is th

truth drug?" he asked.

"No problem," she said. "According to the layout w

saw, the kitchens are on the next level not far from here. "

' 'I've got a little further to go. I'll meet you back at th

air vent in an hour. We can't afford to take any longer,'

he told her.

"See you, there," she said, heading for the door.

"Barbara," he called her back. "Pick a chef who sleep

alone, preferably older than the others. And he can't

left around to wam Zendal you've neutralized his drug."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Howard's truth drug is very rough on the heart. A

overdose will bring on a fatal heart attack. "

DEEP SEA DEATH

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113

"I'm not sure can do that," Barbara said, a tear

coursing down her left cheek.

Carter two steps to her and held her to him. g 'I

never kill unless it's absolutely necessary," he whispered

in her ear. He stroked her back while she settled down. "If

the chef notifies Zendal's people, everyone here will die

with him eventually. We've got to free hundreds."

"But can't I use the kncxkout drug . .

' 'He might have to out for forty-eight hours or

more," Carter reminded her. "It's not enough."

"I was able to shoot when .

you know . . .

when

you were in danger

the clones. But this is so—so

cold-blooded. "

"I know," Carter said softly. "But the chef probably

knows what he's doing to these people. He's probably

doing it for money . . . the same kind of thinking that

would condone the deaths of your friends just they

got in the way."

She was silent for a full minute, breathing heavily in his

arms.

"Look, Barbara, I didn't want you to subjected to

this in the first place. Wait for me at the air duct and keep

our avenue of escarr clear. "

"No," she said emphatically. "I said I'd do it and I

will. "

He raised her face to his so he could look her in the eye.

The hazel eyes were rimmed with red from the emotions

she'd gone through, but the set of her jaw was firm.

• 'Let's do it," she said.


TEN

Ihe corridors looked like many Barbara had used be-

fore, prefabricated sections that joined easily but looked

sterile. Not far from the room she'd just left, a red exit

sign drew her attention. She opened the door to a stairwell.

In the reduced light, she glanced at the identification

badge she wore. She was Dr. Ruth Marshall. The picture

wasn't even close.

What the hell was she doing here? she asked herself as

she climtEd the stairs. Everything seemed so unreal. It was

almost impossible to conceive that she was a thousand feet

below sea level searching for a chef with the prosrmt of

killing him.

Luckily she met no one as she opened a door to the floor

at the next level and looked around. It was the middle of

the night. Guards would be on duty but it would be a

skeleton staff. If she was lucky she might finish her piece

of business without running into anyone.

Barbara had no doubt that she was near her objective.

She could smell the kitchens, the unmistakable odor of

recently cleaned sinks, scrubbed pots, scraps of food in

inaccessible places. What she didn't know was whether the

chefs slept nearby. It had only been an assumption. She

should have asked Ruth Marshall if she knew.

116

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NICK CARTER

She tried a door. The hinges protested and a man turned

over in his sleep. ne room smelled of stale food, the

badge of the kitchen worker. The room was small and

untidy, not what you'd from the head chef.

Three more rcx)ms the same. She'd tried them all

but did not find the man she wanted. But the kitchens were

next to the door she'd tried last. She wandered through

the dimly lit space, past the stainless steel sinks, the

cutting blocks, the rows of hanging Bits that cast eerie

shadows against the tiled walls.

On the far side she found an office, glanced at the

paper, and found that they were invoices for food and

utensils. The office of the man she sought.

A door led off the office and she tried it. A man slept in

a much bigger bedroom. A night light plugged into the

wall near another door showed the interior of a bathroom.

Ihe man tumed on his back and started to snore. The

intake and outflow of air produced a worse noise than a

pig at a trough. The huge mound of the man shook with

each breath and the glass at his tkdside, half-filled with a

green liquid that contained his teeth, jiggled, the liquid

constantly on the move.

This was her man. She closed the door and locked it.

The leather case containing the syringes, though small,

was heavy in her hand. She opened it and filled a syringe

with Schmidt's own brand of truth serum.

The obese man on the bed appeared to be a perfect

candidate for a heart attack even without her help, Barbara

thought as she• put the vial of fluid back in its compartment.

Barbara Wall put the syringe on a side table. She pulled

the Beretta from her belt, placed the barrel against the

sleeping man's forehead, and applied pressure.

One eye opened and then the other. The round, bloated

face started to wrinkle as he screwed up his features in

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fear. Te smell of urine filled the room. The man had a

weak bladder which explained the night light and the OIRn

bathroom dcx»r. It didn't help. Barbara guessed she was

probably far more afraid than he.

"I'm not going to hurt you if you she said,

taking one of his hands in hers and bending the wrist back.

"Not any more than necessary," she added, knowing it

was a lie.

'Ihe chef let out a moan as his wrist screamed at him for

relief. It was a favorite police hold for moving unwilling

prisoners. When they were standing, it usually brought

them up on their In the bed, the man could do

nothing but endure.

"Turn over on your stomach," Barbara ordered, still

holding the wrist bent backward.

He moved gingerly, favoring his wrist, trying to ease off

the pressure.

When he was on his stomach, his face partially in his

pillow, the moaning stopped and he started to cry. "Don't

hurt me . . . don't kill me . . " he pleaded.

"Where do you hide the drug you are feeding the Ixople

here?" she asked, hoping there was some way she could

avoid killing him. She crammed the gun back in her belt

and reached for the syringe.

I don't feed them. . ..

Don't hutt me,

"l don't

please," he whined, dragging out the last word in a plea

for mercy.

She held the syringe vertical to purge it of air, although

it didn't really matter if she gave him an embolism, then

plunged it home in the fatty part of his upper arm.

He jerked and cried out, "You've killed me! What have

you . . . 2" The question dragged out as his body sagged.

She released his wrist and with great difficulty managed

to turn him over.

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Barbara had no experience with interrogation, but she'd

once seen a outh drug used by a psychiatrist. The first

question he'd asked was the patient's name. Perhaps it was

some kind of test.

S4What is your name?" she asked.

"Benjamin . . . Benjamin . .

"Your full name?" she asked.

"Salter. Benjamin Salter."

She relaxed for the first time in hours. The door was

closed. The others were asleep, it was the early hours of

the morning, and she'd done the hardest part.

"All right, Benjamin. Listen to my voice and tell me

why you are here. Why are you a chef here?"

"Why?" he seemed to ask himself. g ' ney pay me."

g ' mley pay more than others?"

' 'More. Danger pay."

"But you have to do something for the money. What

else do you have to do?"

"Just feed them all. Feed the workers. Feed the guards.

Feed the other chefs, all the domestics, and feed the

master and his people."

She hesitated before asking the next question. His face

had started to take on a rosy hue. His breathing was

ragged. "You feed the workers something svecial, don't

you. Very clever. It keeps them in line so they'll do what

the master wants."

"What the master wants," he rerrated, his breathing

labored, his forehead wet with sweat, his hands clawing at

his chest.

"Where do you keep it?" she asked anxiously. She

didn't like the look of him. "What do you put in their

food?"

"Hour. Extra flour. Can on top shelf. Spiked with

something Zendal gave me. "

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"What color is it? What does it look like?" she asked

as his face started to register severe pain.

"Red can. Red metal can. "

"Do the others know, the men who work with you?"

' 'Fools," the man said, settling down in the bed, his

hands at his sides, the soaked in his sweat.

c 'They are drones. What would they know?"

She brought a washcloth she'd soaked in cold water to

his bedside and started to wiEE his forehead. He was still.

Too still. She put her hand to the carotid artery at his neck

and found no pulse.

"Oh, God!" she moaned, sinking to her knees. "I've

killed him!"

Carter walked through the corridor quickly, giving the

impression of a man with a mission. His identity badge

was no better than Barbara's. Dr. Frank Marshall was

bald. Carter had taken a moment to doctor the photo but it

hadn't much.

Ihe communications center was almost at the heart of

the huge installation, much further than Barbara had trav-

eled to her assignment. Carter memorized every turn in the

labyrinth of corridors he ü•aversed to get to his goal. He

met only one guard and the big man, the clone, ignored

him. The next question was who would be in the room at

this time of night and whether he could pull off his mag-

nificent bluff.

Ihe endless corridors of prefab sections finally ended

with one huge room in the cavern that Carter had seen

before. *Ihe communications room was a huge glassed-in

enclosure on a kind of mezzanine floor. It could reached

from a circular steel stairway leading from the cavern

floor. Carter would be visible from the moment he steplEd

into the main cavern until he was in the glass enclosure.

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•nte hairs rose on the back of his neck. They had always

been a sure warning to him that he was IEing observed.

They were one reason he wasn't a lover of technology

related to his unique talents. This uncanny sixth sense had

saved his life more than once, but it didn't work with

video cameras or electronic listening gear.

He reached the tx»ttom of the circular stairs and began to

climb. No one stoplEd him. He wasn't challenged until he

entered the communications center and faced two scientists

on duty.

"Who are you?" one of them asked, up from a

technical manual. He had a video monitor snipped down

on a workbench.

"Frank Marshall," he answered without hesitation.

•s Where's the public address system?"

"Where'd you come from?" the man FErsisted. The

other technician up from his work on an electronic

circuit and said nothing.

'*Came in today. to add a few automatic

announcements to the system," Carter said, flashing the

small machine in front of the first technician. "An

order from His Excellency.

' 'The far wall, second shelf," the man said.

Carter didn't speak again but went about his business.

When he was finished wiring in the machine, he

sensed the first technician at his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" the man asked.

' 'An announcement His Excellency can activate by re-

mote control when he's ready. Some kind of evacuation

procedure," Carter said, knowing the closer his story was

to the truth the better chance it had of flying.

"Evacuation?" the other man said. guess that makes

sense. We'll have to get the hell out of here when it's all

over," he said, moving back to his bench.

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'S When what's all over?" Carter asked.

"You weren't told?"

"No."

121

g 'Then you weren't intended to know. That's the way it

works around here, buddy, and you'd better get used to

it. "

'S Worse than the fuckin' army," Carter said, trying to

stay in character.

' 'Just donet let them hear you talking like that. Hey—

where are you going?" the technician asked. He was the

only one of the two to obviously the senior man.

"I'm not really on duty," Carter said. "It just bothered

me that that small job wasn't done. "

"Just don't get t(X) damned efficient," the man said.

' 'It'll make us all look bad. You get the message?"

"Sure. Sorry. I got the drill. You get what you pay for,

right? No more, no less."

"You've got it. See you at chow later."

The mention of food turned Caner's thoughts to Bar-

bara. "What time's breakfast?" he asked as he or*ned the

door to the stairway.

The man looked at his watch and Carter glanced at him.

"Six o'clock. An hour and a half."

Barbara could be finishing up

An hour and a half. . .

just as the kitchen help came on duty, he thought. He

headed down the stairs and crossed the huge amphitheater

of the cavern with a frown on his face.

"The Killmaster, I presume," a voice behind him said,

the sarcasm evident in the tone.

Carter whipped around, his Luger in his hand, to find

Zendal surrounded by a half-dozen clones, each with a

rifle pointed at him. He already knew that their reaction

time was almost a match for his own. By the time he got

off one shot, they could fill him with steel from six rifles

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NICK CARTER

firing more than seven hundred rounds a minute. He might

kill Zendal, but he would be dead and Barbara would be

stranded. It was too high a price to pay. He decided to live

and fight another day.

On her knees, the huge dead man her, Barbara

Wall was conscious of sounds behind her. The sous chefs,

the dead man's assistants, were up already and starting to

prepare the morning meal. She cursed under her breath.

What the hell was she supposed to do now?

She in the bathroom mirror. An idea occurred to

her. She undid her long blond hair from the bun she'd

worn while in action and it fell to her shoulders in disar-

ray. She ran her fingers through it, rebuttoned her lab coat

so that it was buttoned wrong, and started for the door.

She had another idea halfway across the room and re-

tumed to the With distaste she pulled the pajama

bottoms from the huge rump, leaving him naked from the

waist down. She unbuttoned his top and moved to the

bathroom for a couple of towels. She arranged them in two

crumpled heaps on the floor trside the bed, then stepped

back to survey her work. A sated man if she'd ever seen

one, a man played out from an all-night orgy to get to

work on time.

The lock made a loud click as it turned in her hand.

Every man on the staff, four of them, looking at the

door as she crept out and closed it slowly behind her,

giving them •a glimpse of the man on the bed.

The men stood, mixing spoons in hand, white hats

towering to the ceiling, grinning at her.

"I'm supposed to inspect the condiments," she said,

moving to the shelf the dead man had indicated.

"What department are you from?" one of the men

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123

asked, a lascivious grin on his face. "You work strange

hours. "

'JMedical department," she snapped back at him, mak-

ing an effort to button her coat properly and running a

hand through her hair self-consciously. ' 'Got to inspect the

kitchens once a month. "

"Ain't never heard of no insrmtion," another of the

cooks offered. He wasn't the brightest of them and hadn't

caught on to the gag.

"Spot checks," she shot back at him.

"And what were you inspecting in the chefs bed-

room?" the first man asked, almost at the point of laughter.

' 'Ihis and that," she said, looking him in the eye,

maintaining eye contact until he turned away.

She found the red canister she sought and tasted it with

one finger. She was positive she'd found the right one.

' 'This flour's got maggots in it,"

she said, dumping the

contents into a slop pail where it sank to the bottom

through a mass of coffee grounds, rendered fat, and eggshells.

"Your boss asked me to tell you he's sleeping late,"

she added as she headed for the corridor. "J'm sure you

can manage without him," she said, smiling for the first

time, and, in the process, giving the acting performance of

her life.

Sweat poured down her back, dampening the lab coat as

the door closed behind her. She could hear a hCK)t of

laughter from the kitchen and had to grin to herself as all

the men joined in.

The route back to the air vent was burned in her mem-

ory. If Carter was waiting, they'd be able to get out of

there right away. Please, God, make him be waiting, she

said to herself. If she was first, she didn't know if her

nerves could stand the pressure. As she rounded a corri-

dor, intent on her thoughts, a group of clones were leading

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Carter in their midst. A man she assumed to Zendal was

bringing up the rear.

Barbara went for the Beretta, but one of the clones

brought the butt end of his rifle up and clipped her on the

chin. She went down hard, hitting her head on the floor.

Carter regained consciousness and felt the pounding

inside his head. 'Ihe scene came back all too clearly.

When Barbara had gone down, he'd moved to help her and

that was the last thing he remembered.

He tried to focus on his situation. His wHsts were tied

together and he was naked, strung up so that the soles of

his feet could barely touch the He was tied at the

lower back and below his buttocks to a moving object, like

him, swinging from a rope.

It was Barbara. ney were lashed together. naked. Her

head was to one side, lolling from a rubbery neck, her

eyes closed.

"Barbara," he called. "Barbara." He tried to move

against her, to bring her out of it, but he'd have to wait

until she was ready.

Slowly she orEned her eyes. "Oh-h-h-h, my head," she

moaned. Then she realized she was tied, naked, to another

human. e she gasped. "What the hell . . . ?"

"Don't bashful. We've got to get out of this and it's

going to take all our wits."

"All my wits hurt," she mumbled.

Suddenly the door swung open and Zendal strode in,

followed by someone who wasn't a clone. He to

be in charge of the clones. Perhaps the chief of security,

Carter thought.

Barbara fell against him, limp, her eyes closed.

s 'Cut them down," Zendal ordered. "Put the woman on

the table. Hold the man so he can watch."

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125

They cut the two of them down and the restored circula-

tion pained his extremities. But it was better than being

hung like a side of beef. He stood between two clones.

Their grip of steel held him while Zendal went to work on

Barbara.

Zendal IX)ured a glass of water and held it to her lips.

She blinked her eyes and looked at him. When full realiza-

tion hit her, she opened her mouth in a silent scream and

tried to cover her nakedness with her arms and hands.

' 'What have you done with my clothes?" she demanded.

Carter stood and admired her. She was creating exactly

the atmosphere he wanted. If the clones were normal

they'd intent on her, but they stared straight ahead. The

effect on the chief of security was different, however. The

lush body, the breasts swinging free, had him in the grip

of his own private fantasies.

"Schneider, bring the tray," Zendal said.

Schneider didn't move. His eyes were riveted on the

hand covering her crotch.

' 'Get the damned tray, I told you!" Zenda) screamed at

him.

The man dragged his eyes from the woman reluctantly

and brought a tray of syringes to a small table beside

Zendal, then his eyes went back to their area of interest.

Zendal prepared a syringe and held it up for Carter to

see. ' 'You know what this can do, don't you. She'll tell us

all she knows and she'll end up a vegetable. Why don't

you save me the trouble, Carter?"

' 'She doesn't know anything. It's a waste of time. "

Barbara timed it perfectly. She brought her hand from

her crotch and grasped Zendal by the elbow. With the

other hand she plunged the drug into the man's arm and

slipped from the table.

Carter had a feeling something of the kind was coming

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and broke loose from the clones as their grip loosened. He

cartwheeled and caught each man in a karate heel chop

while Barbara was using her best moves on the one called

Schneider.

Carter went for his Luger in a pile of clothing near the

door. Barbara had her Beretta in her hand almost as quickly.

One of the clones, almost recovered, went for Carter and

two 9mm slugs from Wilhelmina blew off the top of his

head. While Carter was zeroing in on the second clone, he

heard two coughs from the Beretta and the sound of bullets

plowing into yielding flesh.

As the second clone slid down the far wall, a 9mm hole

in his heart, Caner turned to see Barbara, blond hair

askew, hazel eyes flashing, and smoke again seeping from

the lowered automatic.

"Let's get out of here," he grunted, starting to dress.

"It's crazy. I don't feel the least bit guilty," she said.

' 'Get dressed and let's get out!" he urged her. "We

don't have time right now for editorials."


ELEVEN

Barbara headed for the door and into an empty room

down the corridor, her clothes bundled in her arms. Carter

followed her. They dressed in the dark while noises in the

corridor told them their handiwork had tren discovered.

Caner felt one hell of a lot better with his weapons in

place and his enemy temporarily out of the picture. If he

could have killed Zendal before Barbara took off it might

have saved them a lot of trouble, but he had to think of the

hundreds of innocent people still trapped in the undersea

prison.

They had to hurry. 'Ihe place was swarming with Zendal's

clones and more would arrive as the word went out. lhey

stepped out into the corridor, asked a sleepy couple what

was haplEning, and joined the crush of curious for a few

seconds until they had blended into the scene. nen they

slipped away in the direction of the ventilation shaft.

g 'Zendal's security people will have the rwk surrounded

with divers," Caner warned. "We've got to get to the

sleds as quickly as possible. "

"I'm right behind you," Barbara said, her voice show-

ing her fear. Carter could understand the emotion. It would

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NICK CARTER

be unnatural if she weren't afraid. The question was whether

she could hold up under the strain.

S' Where are you going?" a metallic voice behind them

asked.

Carter turned to see a clone bringing his rifle into play.

fie report of Barbara's Beretta sounded like a cannon in

the narrow confines of the hall. It would be heard for

hundreds of yards. While the clone his weapon

and crumpled to the floor, Carter her arm and

hustled her along, thinking about the question he'd just

posed to himself. She'd given him the answer in spades,

had reacted as he would himself in the emergency. She

was all right, tEtter than all right. It was strange how some

people could rise to tackle any situation in an emergency

while others fell on their faces.

His musings didn't keep them from making good time.

As they rounded the last comer near their shaft, he

had to let go of her hand and bring Wilhelmina into play in

one fluid motion. He took out one clone with a shot to the

head and a security man with a clean shot to the heart. As

they passed, the clone was sliding down a partition wall,

his fluids spilling on the tiled floor, multicolored hydraulic

fluids mixed with blood. In the microsecond of time that

the sight registered on the Killmaster's brain, they were

past and in the room containing the root structure of the

vents.

Barbara paused, confused by the number of shafts that

faced them. Carter moved with purpose and opened the

door he'd marked with a star scratched in the paint.

s 'Put on your wet suit hood so we can communicate,"

he called to her from inside the shaft. "And be careful of

the damned fan. It's still at full revs."

He was using Howard Schmidt's communications sys-

tem now. "You read me all right?" he asked.

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NICK CARTER

be unnatural if she weren't afraid. The question was whether

she could hold up under the strain.

S' Where are you going?" a metallic voice behind them

asked.

Carter turned to see a clone bringing his rifle into play.

fie report of Barbara's Beretta sounded like a cannon in

the narrow confines of the hall. It would be heard for

hundreds of yards. While the clone his weapon

and crumpled to the floor, Carter her arm and

hustled her along, thinking about the question he'd just

posed to himself. She'd given him the answer in spades,

had reacted as he would himself in the emergency. She

was all right, tEtter than all right. It was strange how some

people could rise to tackle any situation in an emergency

while others fell on their faces.

His musings didn't keep them from making good time.

As they rounded the last comer near their shaft, he

had to let go of her hand and bring Wilhelmina into play in

one fluid motion. He took out one clone with a shot to the

head and a security man with a clean shot to the heart. As

they passed, the clone was sliding down a partition wall,

his fluids spilling on the tiled floor, multicolored hydraulic

fluids mixed with blood. In the microsecond of time that

the sight registered on the Killmaster's brain, they were

past and in the room containing the root structure of the

vents.

Barbara paused, confused by the number of shafts that

faced them. Carter moved with purpose and opened the

door he'd marked with a star scratched in the paint.

s 'Put on your wet suit hood so we can communicate,"

he called to her from inside the shaft. "And be careful of

the damned fan. It's still at full revs."

He was using Howard Schmidt's communications sys-

tem now. "You read me all right?" he asked.

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