# Singapore Sling2222

Лев Переводчик Шкловский

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they open soon and get an outfit for you. You can do some

shopping on your own later. "

"Then you want me as a woman?"

Carter smiled at the phrasing. He'd been thinking about

that very thing. He'd already concluded he wanted her as a

woman in more ways than one.

"l want you to dress as a woman. Buy a wardrobe and a

piece of luggage. We'll make sure we've got what we

need, then we'll move," he said. "This place is too obvious

for us. When you're outfitted, we'll move to the Lady Hill

Hotel. You're going to visit a beauty salon for a wig or two

and I'm going to get myself a makeup kit," he went on.

"We'll have new names and identities. While they're look-

ing for you as they remember you, we'll installed in the

Lady Hill, in the best suite, a rich American couple who

don't resemble either of us in any way. "

"Beautiful. I'm not sure I like the man and wife part.

Why not father and daughter? And you'd better make sure

the suite has two bedrooms. I'm not one of your push-

overs."


FIVE

The Lady Hill Hotel couldn't be compared to the Shan-

gri-la, but it was a safe haven for the time being. Carter

took a small suite at Samantha's insistence, While she still

seemed a little in awe of him, her reaction was the opposite

of most females. It wasn't that she was totally indifferent;

she seemed to need his closeness and comfort, or maybe it

was protection. Carter decided to ignore the issue, if in-

deed it was an issue. He thought it might be refreshing to

complete an operation without the complications of a sex-

ual relationship with one of the principals.

"What are you going to do about your hair?" he asked as

she knocked and entered his room.

"I noticed a beauty parlor here in in the street-level

shopping mall. If they don't have wigs, they'll be able to

find one."

'Try for a totally different coloring. Your face is tanned.

It's a classic long oval. Find something that tones down

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your skin color and makes your face look rounder," he

suggested.

'*Most women have a nodding acquaintance with

hairdos and makeup," she said dryly. "Don't worry, Carter,

you won't know me."

"Just trying to help. You won't know me, either," he

said. "I'm going on a shopping trip for a makeup kit and

clothes for an older man. I'm going to be your father—-

gray hair, a short beard, stoop-shouldered."

"Where will we meet?"

"A good point. I Ilke this place, but we can't stay.

While I'm out I'll find another hotel. Any other sugges-

tions?"

"Why not stay here? Change your appearance outside

and register again under another name."

Carter grinned. Her stock just went up ten points. If for

any reason the Oher side had a line on them and they disap-

peared, the enemy would be combing the other hotels for

them, not the same one. "I'll register as Goeffrey Smith-

Wells, retired colonel of the Welsh Guards. You'd better

forget about the beauty shop downstairs. We'll both have to

be sure we have no one tailing us when we change our

appearance."

"Why not Americans as we decided?"

"Take them further from the scent."

"Good idea. I'll be Caroline, your veddy uppah-crust

daughter. Very spoiled snob type. Makes it all the more

plausible when you ask for separate bedrooms."

"All right," Carter said. "Sounds good to me. Let's get

going. I'll be back in two hours and signed in. You'd better

arrive with a taxiload of boxes from local shops. How are

you fixed for money?"

"Not one Singapore dollar."

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He handed her a wad of bills and picked up the attaché

case Schmidt had give him. Heid leave the rest of his

clothes here and sign out when the action was over. He

smiled at the thought. He was leaving bits and pieces of his

wardrobe all over town. 6Tat•s it, then," he concluded.

"You leave first. I'll follow in a few minutes.

Chen sat at his massive console, his equally massive

buttocks spilling out of his chair. His voice, usually so loud

it drowned out all other sound, had risen to the threshold of

pain. "You're telling me they are out of jail? Where are

they?" he roared, the wattles at the sides of his face shak-

ing, his color three shades of crimson darker than usual.

'They were broken out by a professional, Excellency."

"Why do you say 'professional'?" he asked, the decibel

level dropping a few points.

"He introduced a form of gas into the ventilation sys-

tem, then went in dressed hke an antiterrorist expert."

"And he got them both out?" Chen roared.

"No, Excellency," the voice of his underling came back,

then hesitated. On the screen he looked afraid and con-

fused. "Well, he got them out, but onewas shot."

"What? Who shot?"

"Two police appeared on the scene. They shot one of

the agents while the invader was moving the body to his

car."

"Which one? Is he dead or alive?"

"The big one. He's dead."

"Did our people get a good look at the new one? What

about the license of his car?"

'They saw him briefly. He was tall. That's all they can

say. He was tall and strong."

Chen thought about the caliber of an enemy who could

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put a whole building under his control and escape a maxi-

mum-security area with two prisoners. "How many B)lice

were killed?" he asked.

"None. He could have killed many, but he apparently

didn't shoot to kill."

"Interesting," Chen said, his voice almost at a normal

level, a whisper for him, as if he were talking to himself.

' sone man, tall and strong, takes two prisoners from the

cellars of the Justice Building. He doesn't kill any police.

What happened to the dead one?" he suddenly asked in his

normal booming tones.

"Strange. The body is not in the local morgue. It was

picked up by a foreign group."

"What foreign group? Do I have to drag it out of you

one piece at a time?"

"It happened fast, Excellency. The body never got to the

morgue. It was intercepted on the way and transferred to

another van. We don't have a description. We were relying

on our informant at the morgue."

'So one of them escaped and is with this tall strong

man," Chen bellowed. "The small one escaped. That one

was too nosy. I'm sure he knows more than he should. And

now he's spilling his guts to a stranger—a very capable

stranger," he fumed. "You know what that means, you

foo I

"No, Excellency."

"It means that instead of closing a gap in our armor, we

have a new player in the game," he said, his voice like a

whip. "Now, you listen to me. I want all our people at the

hotels to keep an eye open. Every taxi driver and every

pedicab driver must be on the alert. We know what the

small one ICK)ks like. He's thin. His hair is short and a kind

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of dark red in color. His eyes are brown. Do we have

pictures of him?"

"Not very good ones of him. All taken at a distance.

What about your video tapes, Excellency? Did you have

him on camera?"

"None of you have been bright enough to get him on

camera for me," Chen roared. "Now, get busy and find

them for me! Alert Quang. If we find them, he'll have to

deal with them personally I want to know what they know

and -what they've passed on."

"Yes, Excellency."

"Well, get busy! want them by the end of the day!"

She called from the lobby and was knocking on his door

within minutes. When he opened it for her, he was im-

pressed, If he hadn't been expecting her, he'd have taken

her for someone else.

In tum she looked at him, her mouth a round O, her

eyebrows arched, before she came in timidly S carter?" she

asked.

He laughed and waved her in. When they were in the

rivacy of the suite, they both stood, above five feet apart,

d laughed in wonder. She was a blonde with a tawny

complexion. She had used contact lenses to change her

eyes to green. Her choice of clothes was Iklfect for the

snooty daughter of a very old-fashioned, retired British

military man.

Carter stood, his shoulders stooped, his skin a dark

parchment, wrinkled by the tropic sun. He had not changed

the length of his hair but had changed the color to a dull

charcoal gray. His eyes were hidden behind tinted glasses

with thick tortoiseshell frames. He had a small chin beard

and a ragged mustache.

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He waved her to a chair. "You've done well." As he

spoke, a sharp rap on the door startled them.

"My clothes," she said.

Carter (wied the door to a hall porter pushing a lug-

gage cart laden with colorful boxes.

"I say, Caroline, must you buy out the shops every-

where we go?" Carter said for the of the porter, his

accent pure Oxbridge.

"Oh, Daddy. What do exrct me to do in these dread-

fully dull places?" Samantha said, playing her role of the

spoiled daughter to the full.

Carter hesitated while the man waited, then reluctantly

tipped him with one Singapore dollar, an amount that

curled the man's lip and would brand the old British gentle-

man as a parsimonious old dinosaur.

When they were alone, Carter poured a couple of bran-

dies from a decanter. As he handed one to Samantha he

wasted no time on preliminaries. "l said we'd have to play

this out alone. But I think we've got too many bases to

cover alone," he said. "You said you had an in with the

local police. How good is it? Can we trust your contact?"

."The best. Chief of Police Windsor. His close friends

call him 'Chalkie.' I'm close but not that close."

"Does he know you're a woman?"

"He's about the only one who does."

"Tell me about him."

"Hue Yen met him long before hg became prime minis

ter. Chief Windsor was a military man but always in polic

work or intelligence. He took an early pension and was

acting superintendent of New Scotland Yard when Hue Ye

persuaded him to move to Singapore."

"Hue Yen's a very shrewd character. Is Windsor tha

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"He's about the best I've run across. And he prefers to

be called 'Chief Windsor,' by the way."

"Were there problems in the force? Jealousy from local

men who thought they should have the job?"

"You don't know Hue Yen. His vrople know better than

to complain," she said. ' 'There probably was some under-

lying jealousy at first, but not when they got to know Chief

Windsor."

"What about ego? Is Chief Windsor going to be a prob-

'VI don't think so. His wanting to be called Chief Wind-

sor is just a quirk of his. How do you want to handle it?"

• she asked.

"We don't want to go to police headquarters and be

spotted with him. Can you get him here?"

"I think so."

'Good. One more thing. What do you know about other

police action here? Any complications?"

"No. Chief Windsor has total control. Hue Yen has

never allowed any duplication of departments. He hates

interdepartmental jealousies, and fires anyone who shows

signs of empire building or moving in on another depart-

ment."

"So Chief Windsor has a clear field."

"That's about it," Samantha said. "I'd be bothered with

the autonomy with anyone else, but Chief Windsor handles

it well. You'll see."

"Let's do it. Try to get him up here."

George Windsor was more low-key than Carter ex-

rECted. Instead of the ex-military type in a military-cut suit

or in a police uniform, Chief Windsor showed up at their

door in a dark blue business suit, a striped tie that comple-

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mented his two-tone shirt, and expensive Italian loafers.

He was smaller than Carter expected, just coming to

Carter's chin. His hair was light brown, combed straight

back. His brown eyes looked at the two of them through

fashionable lightweight glasses. fie eyebrows of his

tanned, round face arched in surprise at their

"I told you I'd look different," Samantha said with a

smile as she waved him to a chain

"Let's get something straight from the start," Chief

Windsor said as he sat and took the offered brandy. "I've

worked with Sam before without digging too deeply into

her background. I'm not going to do the same this time."

Carter and Samantha looked at each other. Neither

spoke. Chief Windsor tried to outwait them but with no

success. "I won't do it. You've already caused a furor in

Kuala Lumpur. J don't like to hear about police being

wounded doing their duty, even if they were not mine. I

don't like working with the ones who shot them."

"It couldn't be Chief Windsor," Carter ex-

plained. "I could have killed a half-dozen officers at the

Justice Building and the job would have been a lot easier. I

stuck my neck out to avoid hitting the police. If I'd been

there to kill, Barney Feldman wouldn't have bought it."

Chief Windsor digested the answer and shifted his gaze

to Samantha. "What the hell are you up to this time?"

"The same thing," Samantha said. "Robert Quang and

whoever's behind him. Did you alreacw know Barney was

killed?"

She managed to say it and keep her composure, but

Carter knew that it hurt. He was beginning to admire this

woman more as time went on.

"My people were sent from here to get him. Did you

know he was transferred to a private ambulance from our

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meat wagon before we got him to the morgue? Now, that

takes some kind of clout. Just what the hell's going on,

Samantha?"

"You know I can't orm up all the way, Chief. This is a

man who works as I do," she said, indicating Carter. "He's

about twenty-five years younger than he lcx)ks. If we're

going after Quang and Chen, we've got to be very care-

ful."

"And who do you work for, Mr. Carter?"

"A man in Washington."

"What man?"

"A man close to the president."

"Do I take it you're not from one of the usual agen-

"That much I can tell you."

"Look here. I was superintendent of Branch be-

fore I came down here, worked with your CIA chaps all

the time. I never heard of any clandestine agency then and

I don't trlieve it now."

The silence in the room went on for what seemed like a

full two minutes. "What the hell do you want with me?"

Chief Windsor finally asked.

"I came here to take Samantha and Feldman out,"

Carter said. "But it deeper than that. If the other side

set them up, they'll do everything in their power to do

something like it again. I can't just leave it at that. You

want the whole piece?"

"I don't have anything pressing at the moment," Chief

Windsor said, holding out his empty snifter.

"You probably know this better than I," Carter started.

"We think Quang is a pawn for the Soviets. Hue Yen isn't

getting any younger. If Quang takes over, he the

back door for Communism to infiltrate within weeks. Sin-

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gam)re goes, then the whole peninsula, Sumatra, Bali—

the whole area."

"That's my problem, Mr. Caner. What in bloody hell do

you think you can do?"

"Don't you ever feel your hands are tied, Chief Wind-

sor? Have you ever arrested a major criminal and had him

get off with a suspension or less?" Carter knew he was on

firm ground, No police chief in the world had not exrEri-

enced a ton of similar frustrations.

"You know damned well I have," Chief Windsor said in

his clipped accent. "What's the point?"

"Samantha and I can't cover all the bases- We want to

know who Quang sees night and day. We want to know

who he calls and who calls him," Carter recited. "He's the

assistant prime minister. It'll all have to be done with your

most trusted men."

Chief Windsor sat, twisting the brandy snifter in his

hand, taking his time. "It would be a problem if something

happened to Hue Yen and Quang took over. I'm no fool,

Carter I know what he is. But he's damn close to the top.

I've got to move carefully."

"l know. But we've got to make sure of our facts. Suspi-

cions won't hack it. If we can be sure that Quang and Chen

are a threat to the area, I'll deal with them. You'll be

clean."

"Except to explain the mess you leave behind."

"You can't have it both ways."

Samantha was letting them have it out. Now she joined

in. "l was telling Nick about Chen's background. Have you

come up with anything new lately?" she asked.

"Nothing you don't know."

"What about his electronics expertise?" Carter asked.

"How does he get his supplies? Surely we can put a watch

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on his estates and pin down his operating headquarters."

"I've not seen Chen in years, Carter. My Erople give

me rumors about him growing immensely fat and being

unable to move in a normal society. He's tren know as Fat

Chen for years, but I understand he's twice the size now

that he used to be."

"lf your information's correct," Carter reminded him.

"Samantha thinks he's set himself up in a high-tech won-

derland where he keeps an eyes on his empire by video."

"She's probably right," Chief Windsor said.

"State-of-the-art surveillance is so sophisticated it's

scary," Carter reminded them. "He could have miniature

cameras hidden where they'd never be He could

even have some concealed on his VEople. Makes you

wonder," Carter went on. "How clean is your office, Chief

Windsor? And your home? When was the last time you had

an electronic sweep of them?"

Chief Windsor blanched at the suggestion and was

thoughtful for a minute or two. Carter and Samantha didn't

disturb his thoughts.

"All right. My people will concentrate on Quang and

Chen. What will you be doing?" he finally asked.

"Leave the surveillance of Chen's mansions to us,"

Carter said. "Keep an eye on his enterprises. Watch for

Soviet contacts. "

Chief Windsor rose to leave. "Anything else?" he

asked.

"We seem to have conflicting information on who con-

trols the drug rackets," Carter said. ' 'We heard that the Soo

brothers were in competition with Chen, and that would be

motivation enough for Chen to get rid of them. We also

heard that Quang eased the Soo brothers out of drug traf-

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ficking before they were abducted. That would make him a

competitor with Chen and not an ally."

"Unless Chen used Quang to take down the Soo

brothers and Quang is merely running part of the drug trade

for Chen," Chief Windsor offered.

'The whole thing's too damn complicated," Caner said.

"It just proves we can't operate without intelligence."

"Just what did you come here for, Carter?" Chief Wind-

sor asked. "You said it was to spring your people. Now

you've got your nose in the Soo business."

"We lost two CIA men just after the kidnapping. My

people want to know who has the Soo brothers and why."

Chief Windsor had another of his pauses. Carter was

beginning to get used to them.

"Samantha and I might have to change our appearance

more than once," Carter said, finally breaking the silence.

"We may have to move around. So we'll get in touch with

you."

Chief Windsor seemed to come out of deep thought,

resigned and willing to cooperate. He pulled a business

card from an inner pocket and added a SEECial number.

"I'm here most of the time. If not, a machine will answer

and I check it every hour."

"If you don't hear from us in twelve hours, come look-

ing," Carter added.

But the policeman had the last word. "I'm going along

with this because we've got very grave problems, Carter. I

know I can't handle it by conventional means. But if you

cross me in any way, any way at all, I'll have your hide,"

he said.

His eyes left no doubt about his intent. He was a good

man to have on your side, Carter decided, but not one to

have against you.

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"How did Hue Yen ever settle on him as his chief of

police?" Carter asked when Chief Windsor had left.

"Didn't he have his whole party on his back to put some

local man in that position?"

"You obviously don't understand the Hue Yen power

stmcture," she said. "He chooses whom he wants and he

tells his cabinet they can go along or get out. With his

unique background, Chief Windsor is better at what he

does than any local could be. Ihat's not just my bias. They

all him—and fear him, Carter. He's a good

man—a good one to have on your side."

"He's close to Hue Yen?"

"I understand he has the prime minister's ear whenever

he needs it."

"Good. I have a feeling we'll need old Chalkie's help

before this is over."

The front entrance to the Lady Hill Hotel was jammed

with vehicles as Chief Windsor strode out to his waiting

car. He swung in swiftly and his driver pulled out of the

snarl of traffic into the Lady Hill flow as only an expert

driver was capable.

A black Mercedes pulled out of its spot near the en-

trance and followed, keeping a hundred yards between the

two vehicles.

"What did you find out inside?" the passenger, a big

man, asked in Russian.

"He visited the seventh floor. The two we want are on

the fifth floor."

"l smell something here, Sergei," the passenger said. "It

doesn't add up. We know the American woman agent has

been friendly with Chief Windsor in the past. The Lady

Hill Hotel has never figured in any action before. In the

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same day, we watch the woman move in with another

American and Chief Windsor visit an entirely different

room. What does that tell you?"

ne smaller man was concentrating on his driving. As

Chief Windsor's car approached police headquarters he

kept on going and visibly relaxed. "What are you getting

at, Yuri Alexandrovich? You think the same couple has two

rooms?"

"What else could the answer tE? Has the Lady Hill sud-

denly become a nest of No. I think not," he said

smugly. "Our American friends are trying to be deceptive."

"And our next move?"

'Turn back to Lady Hill, Sergei Anatole, my friend.

Find out who has registered on the seventh floor in the last

few hours. If you find only one or two couples, put a team

of our people on them. I want to know what they do every

hour around the clock."


SIX

The car they rented was a small, unremarkable Toyota,

a carbon copy of thousands on the streets of the Lion City.

It was parked outside the Chen mansion on Telok Blangah

Road near the Ginseng Essence Balm Park. They had de-

cided not to observe one of Chen's properties a few blocks

from their hotel first. To stay at the hotel and park just up

the street for hours would seem unusual, even to the dullest

mind.

"We haven't seen any action for hours," Samantha com-

plained. She sat behind the wheel, her crisp new appear-

ance slightly wilted, the wig a hot and bothersome addition

in a car with no air conditioning.

"We can't expect any for hours," Carter said. He wasn't

any more comfortable than his companion. The facial

makeup, the wrinkled skin, was beginning to soften from

his perspiration. The beard and mustache were sodden as

the car heated up more and more under an unrelenting sun.

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The interior smelled of stale cigarettes and body heat.

"We should have chosen a different disguise for this

kind of work," Samantha offered. She opened the door and

stepped out to stretch her legs.

In an action that caught them both off guard, a black

Mercedes swept up beside them, its tires sliding on the soft

asphalt. A man jumped out and caught Samantha with one

arm around her throat. He had a deadly-looking automatic

at her temple in seconds.

A second man moved out of the car. He seemed to in

no hurry He walked to Carter's side of the car, keeping

well clear of his partner, and pointed the barrel of a Ma-

karov at Carter's head. "You will get out of the car slowly,"

he said.

With Samantha under their control, Carter didn't reach

for a weapon. "See here," he said in the British accent he

had adopted. "Now, see here. We're British. I'll have the

consulate after you-—

"Stop the act, Mr. Carter," the big man growled. "Get

in the back of our car with your 'daughter.' We have a few

things to discuss."

Carter estimated the ride took a little more than twenty

minutes. He'd been blindfolded and his hands were tied

behind his back. He tried to remember all the stops and

turns, but their frequency soon made that impossible.

Some random smells he remembered: the rotting vegeta-

bles of a market; the fish and oil smell of the harbor; the

faint whiff of an opium pipe when they had to

make a turn.

It had all added up to nothing useful. He decided to ride

it out, as he'd done countless times before, find out who

his enemies were, and wait for a break. But he had the

added responsibility of the woman. Samantha had not

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made a sound during the ride. He was sure she was not

unconscious and he doubted she'd been gagged.

They seemed to be moving slowly between buildings

when the car stopped. He was pulled out of the car and

pushed, stumbling, across the threshold of a building. He

was shoved into a wooden chair and the blindfold was

yanked off.

"Moscow will delighted to know that we have the

notorious Nick Carter," the big man said. He had discarded

his coat and stocxl in front of Caner in a sweat-stained

shirt, his baggy pants held up by wide black suspenders.

Samantha was in a chair beside Carter, her eyes down-

cast. She was shaking from fear. It was always worse for a

woman. She never knew if her captors were crude enough

to violate her.

As if to prove his mint, three men entered and started to

grin at the sight of the woman. One of them grabbed at her

hair and laughed wildly as it came off in his hand.

"What do you want?" Carter asked, trying to get their

attention from the woman.

ne big man who had held the gun on Carter seemed to

be in charge. He shouted at the others to stand back. "All

in good time, comrades," he said. "First we will see what

we have here. Strip them both and tie them to the chairs."

Rough hands at him. He couldn't see •what was

happening to Samantha, but he could hear her cries of pro-

test. As they pulled off his coat and were working on the

belt of his trousers, he turned to see them rip her dress

down the front. Her small breasts heaved with her shouted

curses as they shredded the rest of her clothes.

"So the great Killmaster has the 9mm Luger and the

stiletto as we were told," the big man drawled. "How does

it feel to at the end of your joumey at last, Carter?"

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"Who the hell are you?" Carter asked, stalling for time,

looking for a chance to make a break, any kind of a break.

"Colonel Yuri Alexandrovich Petrov at your service,

Mr. Carter," the big man answered in Russian. "Komitet

Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti, First Chief Directorate,

Executive Action Department."

"Mokrie dela" Carter said in the same language.

"Mokrie dela," Petrov said, his face broadening in a

smile. '"Wet affairs.' You know what wet affairs are,

Carter. You have killed enough of my comrades to know

the expression well," he shouted at his captive, smashing a

massive fist to the side of Carter's face. "Ihe dreaded Kill-

master. N3. Licensed to Kill.

"Well, I'm licensed to kill, too, Mr. Carter!" he

shouted, then went on in a more normal tone. "I've been

trained at the best places. Serbsky, Mr. Carter. You have

heard of the Serbsky Institute?"

"Very crude, Petrov. Any fool can learn to fry a brain

with drugs."

His ploy was working. Petrov hit him again with his

bare fist and screamed at the men to leave. "I'm going to

give you a few minutes to contemplate your death, Mr.

Killmaster. But you will die," he said, giving each word

emphasis. "Have no doubt of that. None. You will die, but

not before you tell us all about the inner workings of

AXE."

"A Soviet dog hiding behind a fat nan and a politician,"

Carter taunted him as he was about to leave.

"What do you know, fool?" Petrov snarled as he walked

back to face Carter s SThe fat man has a very short time to

live. The politician is another thing. IHe's one of us.

Trained at Lumumba. He will be our figurehead in all of

Malaysia."

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"You sound confident, Petrov. Why tell me this? It con-

firms what I needed to know,"

"Because you're a dead man, Carter. A dead man," he

repeated as he closed the door after him.

Carter looked at Samantha for the first time. Her chin

was on her chest. She was crying silently, not understand-

ing a word they had said, bound up in the fear of death.

Carter's heart went out to her. She, too, was naked. Her

skin was rubbed raw where they had ripped her clothes

from her. Bruises had started to show where they had

grabbed at her breasts and inner thighs.

She was bald. Apparently she'd opted to remove all her

hair to accommodate the wigs. It was a good sign. If she

were that dedicated to her job, what had to done now

might not be impossible.

"Are you all right?" he asked in a whisper.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" she snapped at

him. Maybe he'd been wrong. She seemed petrified by her

circumstance. But they had to get out of there.

He took a deep breath and tried again. "Are you a good

swimmer?" he asked.

"What are you getting at, Carter?"

"Well, are you?"

"I was in the Olympic trials at sixteen."

"Still have the lung power?' :

"Yes. I'm into aerobics."

"Good," he said, slipping the ropes that held his wrists.

He'd been working on loosening them since he'd been tied

up.

"How did you do that?"

"Never mind," he grunted, untying his legs from the

chair and moving to untie hers. She started to get up but he

pushed her back.

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"What's going on, Carter? Let's get out of here."

"We wouldn't get ten feet." He lifted one leg to reveal

the tiny bomb. He peeled away the tape and held Pierre in

his hand.

"What the hell's that?" she asked.

"Sit in your chair as if you were still tied," he said,

putting his hands behind him as he spoke. "We want to

look natural when they come back."

"What is that thing, Carter?"

"A gas bomb. One whiff is lethal. That's why I asked

about your lung power."

"What are you going to do?"

"I know them. Petrov will be busy right now boasting to

his superiors, but they'll be back soon. He'll want me to

spill my guts and he'll give you to his men as part of my

softening-up process."

She looked better, actually smiled as she contemplated a

chance for freedom,

"Don't look so happy," he said. "They might be back

any second, Keep your head down as you had it before.

They won't see the missing rope."

"But how will I know when you're are going to do it?"

she asked, moving her chin back to almost touch her chest.

"I'll let Petrov rant and rave for a minute or two—let

the rest of them ogle you. If their blood is up, they won't

suspect anything and they'll get a luneful of the gas right

away."

"But what will I do?"

"When I yell 'Now!' I'll give you two seconds to take a

deep breath and I'll drop the bomb in front of them," he

told her. "Don't wait for them to go down. Get to the door

and out as fast as you can. Don't wait for me,"

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"Don't wait? What will you be doing?" she asked, ob-

iously concerned for him.

"Don't worry about me. I want to be sure they are all

dead. Wc don't want any pursuers. When you get clear,

ook for my weapons and some clothes for us."

They heard feet pounding down the hall and raucous

aughter. Caner said no more. Samantha hadn't survived

or as long as she had without a keen intelligence. She

would do all right.

From the moment they all trooped in, Carter could see

e scenario wasn't going to go as he planned. One of the

men grabbed at Samantha and she slipped off her chair.

ey all stared, dumbfounded, as they saw she was untied.

"Now!" Carter yelled. He took a deep breath, turned the

o halves of Pierre, and let the small bomb drop on the

oor in front of him.

Samantha sat for a moment, then bolted for the door.

ne of the men made a halfhearted grab for her, but his

ungs were already full of the gas and he slipped to his

ees.

Petrov's face tcok on a look of surprise as he dropped

he tray of syringes he'd been carrying and fell, his face

uncing off the wooden floor.

Carter sat, easily holding his breath while they fell, one

y one.

One man remained. He was a bull of a man, and looked

ike a Georgian farmhand or a circus strongman. Carter

ame up out of the chair and sank his fist in the man's

tomach. It was like hitting a stone wall,

One nxklike arm swung at Carter's head. He tried to

uck but it caught him at the temple and lifted him off his

eet. He managed to hold his breath as he hit the far wall

d slid to the

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The human tank came at him. He lashed out with a

booted foot at Carter's thigh. The strength of the kick

swung Carter around as the shock of the contact and the

pain ran up the nerves of his spine.

The Killmaster's hands reached out for something to use

as a weapon. His right hand closed on a chair leg. While

his head throbbed from hitting the wall, he mustered up all

his strength and brought the seat around in an arc, the solid

middle of the chair catching the young giant in the groin.

He went down, gulping his last breath.

Carter knelt where he was for a moment, trying to orient

himself, then he struggled to his feet. He didn't know how

long it had been since he'd dropped Pierre. He was starting

to feel weak as spots flashed in front of his eyes.

He searched the fallen men carefully. He found none of

his possessions but took one of the weighty Makarovs as a

precaution.

Carter stumbled out the door and down the hall. Sa-

mantha wasn't alone. One of the Russians, a man no big-

ger than she was, was struggling with her for a gun. As

Carter came on the scene, the man broke loose, the gun in

his hand. He pointed it at the woman, an evil grin on his

face.

The gun in Carter's hand boomed out its challenge and

the small man went down, half his head blown away. But

Carter was fading fast. His head was spinning from the

first blow of the young giant. The wall he'd hit had done

the worst damage. His vision began to blur. The last thing

he saw was a nude woman, her hand to her mouth. Con-

scious thought sank into blackness ashe reached out for

her.

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Samantha stood swaying in the house that she'd thought

would be her tomb. Nick Carter had saved them, but he'd

just passed out. O God! Don't lei him leave me now, she

thought. Then her sense of survival took charge. Still

naked, she picked up one of the guns and searched the rest

of the house. She found nothing incriminating, but picked

up Carter's She looked out the windows. They

were closed in by other buildings. No one had heard the

shot, or if anyone had, he was ignoring it.

Next she knelt beside Carter and felt his pulse. It was

strong. Good. Blood ran from his temple and he had a

massive bruise forming on one hip. He might have a con-

cussion, but he'd probably come around.

What was her first move? She found a pair of coveralls

that was several sizes too big, but she pulled them on and

rolled up the legs. She found a coat that almost fit her,

buckled on a pair of sandals, and covered her head with a

canvas sun hat. She felt more human.

Again she examined Carter. He hadn't moved. She

looked around and found his old-man clothes in the closet

of an upstairs They would have to do. It seemed to

take forever to dress him, including the Luger and the sti-

letto. He still had a wad of Singapore currency in his

pocket. She transferred it to her coat pocket and tried to get

him on his feet.

He moaned and hung on to her shoulders. She propped

him up by the door while she looked out into the street.

The people were all Chinese. Considering that three

quarters of the city's population was ethnic Chinese, that

didn't mean anything. But these people were different.

They were dressed in more traditional garments.

Chinatown.

She recognized the top of a temple. It was the distinc-

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tive Wak Hai Cheng Bio Temple. ney were at the back of

the holy building. So they had to be somewhere near Canal

Road or George Street.

What would be the best hotel for them? she wondered.

Something not far away and not too big. The Furama.

Somehow, some way, she'd take him to the Furama.

Samantha hoisted Carter and started to move. His brain

responded in low gear and his feet moved with her, not

taking all his weight, but at least she didn't have to drag

It seemed like an etemity but was probably only a few

minutes before she found herself on George Street. A cab

stopped at her frantic signal.

"Help me with this useless drunken husband," she

screamed at the taxi driver in gutter Cantonese.

"I don't want blood on my seats, woman," the driver

shouted over his shoulder, starting to take off.

"Fifty dollars, you son of a sampan whore," she yelled

at him.

He backed up, snatched the fifty from her hand—about

thirty-five Arnerican dollars—but didn't get out to help her

with her burden.

With help, Carter slipped into the back, knocking his

head against the roof. Samantha tried to guide him, cursing

all the while.

"Take me to the Furama Hotel, you helpless excuse for

a man," she continued to rail at the Aluctant driver.

The hotel clerk was about to give her the same treatment

when she threw a hundred-dollar bill at him and grabbed

the key out of his hand.

"I'll need two nights in advance," he told her, his face

devoid of expression. "Five hundred dollars."

"Your mother was a Shanghai whore," she snapped at

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him in Cantonese. While trying to hold up Carter, she

rreled off five bills.

No one in the lobby paid any attention or tried to help as

she pulled her useless husband to the elevators. The eleva-

tor and the hall of the fourth floor were both empty as she

the door to room 450 and dragged Carter inside.

When he was on the bed she sat in a chair and cried.

She'd been through a hell of a lot for the CIA and for

AXE, but never anything like this. How many Russians

had he killed? At least six with the gas and one he'd shot

defending her.

She stopped sobbing and wiped her eyes. He looked

comfortable enough. She couldn't go for a doctor, so she

filled an empty ice bucket with warm water and washed the

blood from his face. It was all she could do for him for

now.

The bathroom was old-fashioned but the tub was a

monster. It had ancient plumbing, all chrome, with an

oversize mixer on the wall above the tub. She wiped the

bath clean and turned on both faucets. The mixer soon had

a steady stream of hot water filling the tub, the temperature

constant.

Samantha peeled off her clothing and climbed into the

tub. The water closed over her like hot mercury, easing her

muscles. The tension seeped out of her as she gave herself

up to her thoughts....

My God, that was close. If it weren't for Nick, I'd have

been gang raped, probably dead. He is all they say he is

and more. With any other man ...

She never finished the thought as her mind went back to

the last time. Three black youths and three white in the

basement of a tenement in Brooklyn. Twelve hours of con-

stant abuse and torture. It hadn't been enough that they had

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taken her, each of them, many times, it was the foul things

they had forced her to do to them afterwards; at knifepoint,

while onlookers watched....

She had been in the hospital in Manhattan for a month.

She'd gone home to Maine, to her family, but it hadn't

helped. She returned to Manhattan, studied Oriental mar-

tial arts and earned a closetful of black belts, visited a

shrink twice a week for two years without him helping

much, then was persuaded by a friend to join the Central

Intelligence Agency.

She had tried it with two men since, but it had not

worked. Each time, at the last minute, the six faces would

loom up in front of her and she would end up screaming

and fighting off her would-be lover.

She still had urges. The psychiatrist had explained it to

her. Her libido would be her worst enemy. She would want

to have sex with a man, but her memories would always

block her. 'She knew she'd prove him wrong someday.

Samantha stepped from the tub, dripping. She toweled

herself dry and tiptoed into the bedroom. Carter was as she

had left him. As she looked at the nasty gash across his

temple, she felt a flow of tenderness toward him, and a

warm feeling filled her loins.

She had to do something for him. She'd give him a

sponge bath. Samantha filled the ice bucket with lukewarm

water again, pulled off his clothes gently, and started to run

the soft, lathered cloth over his body.

The feeling was strangely sensual. Both of them naked

—she ministering to him.

The bruise on his hip looked nasty. She was extra care-

ful with it. His body was tan and muscular, covered with

scars, some recent, some puckered and old. The warmth

between her legs grew to send a flush all the way to her

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face. Blood throbbed in her temples. She felt faint. She

had never felt this way before in her life.

She'd had two men the ralE. One a youth in the

back seat of a car when she was seventeen, one a married

man, her first boss in the big city. lhe encounters had been

disappointing. Both men had left her aroused and unsatis-

fied.

As Samantha ran the cloth over the tape marks that had

held the small gas tx)mb near his genitals, she realized that

while his mind was on hold, Carter's physical reflexes

were still functioning. She started to finish the job, but her

ministrations only added to what she'd already started.

Carter was not fully in control of his senses, but he

knew who was touching him. He felt his natural instincts

take over as the sensuous movements of her hands sent

messages from his loins to his brain.

"It's all right," he kept telling himself. "This is not the

enemy," his brain over and over. What was hap-

pening to him wasn't dangerous.

Samantha watched him react to her touch and felt her-

self growing warmer and filled with desire.

"Samantha," he whislkred, his eyes still closed.

"He's thinking about me. He's unconscious but he's

thinking of me. Her knees tEgan to give way and she

slumped on the bed next to him, the wet cloth dropping to

the floor:

The weight of her on the bed turned him slightly and

one hand reached out for her.

This was madness, she thought. He wasn't conscious.

She couldn't. ...

Despite the warm bath, she began to shiver. Something

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drove her on. She needed this and he was the first man who

had not frightened her... the first.

She moved closer. She shivered again. She felt herself

pressed against the length of him, felt the hardness of-him

against her flank, the warmth of his flesh.

"Samantha," he said again, running a hand over her

small breasts, bringing the tips of her nipples to a hardness

she had never felt before.

A warmth suddenly poured through her and she felt as if

her loins were about to explode. She reached for his hand

and placed it on her belly, opening her legs for him.

The sensation of his hand moving on her was almost

more than she could stand. It was the most sensual feeling

she'd ever experienced. It encompassed her, flooding her

senses, sending the blood to her head. She moaned, then

almost cried out as a wave of passion overwhelmed her.

"Samantha," Carter mumbled, his hand working its way

between her legs and caressing her until she felt she'd go

Just this once ... let it happen ...

As if her prayer were answered, one powerful arm

swept her on top of him, her legs spread around him, ab-

sorbing him totally.

Samantha thought she was going to die with the joy of

it. Slowly, so slowly it was almost more than she could

bear, he began to move within her. He took the taut flesh

of her rump in each hand and moved her in a slow, erotic

dance of desire. It lifted her to a new level of ecstasy and

she could no longer be patient. She moved faster, urged

him on, forced his body to keep up with hers

Carter was in a dreamland with a beautiful woman, a

desirable woman, Samantha, on top of him. His brain

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wouldn't allow him full access to rational thought, but per-

mitted his senses to run wild.

Was he all right? Deep inside his unconscious he knew

he was safe. •nis was Samantha. This was paradise seen

through a fog but felt with a clarity that drove him on.

It was so good, so much better than she had ever imag-

ined. She moved above him, slapping her flesh against his

flesh, not caring that he had moving.

he began to moan, She realized that even in his

condition she was going to bring him to a climax. The

thought magnified her own feelings tenfold and the realiza-

tion took her even higher. She moved like a wild woman

until she reached a crest with him and cried out her joy.

She didn't care if the whole hotel knew of her joy, the

whole of Chinatown. The fires that had roared within her

started to recede. She stopped moving and lay on top of

him, her sweat-slick skin plastered to him.

He held her. Every minute or so his lips would move to

sound her name: "Samantha."

•She felt better than she had in her whole life. She felt

normal ... at last. Hadn't he mentioned her name through-

out their lovemaking? He had helped her. He'd known she

was there.

But she would have to tell him about it in the moming.

They would do it again, but this time had been special.

Never again would the fires of a private hell be burned

away to reveal pure passion instead of the scars she'd

worn.


SEVEN

The moming sun shone on them as they began to stir. It

was hot. They lay naked on top of the sheets.

"I had the most incredible dream last night," Carter said

as Samantha leaned over him.

"What was it?" she asked.

"I remember holding you close in this bed. It was

beautiful," he said, a huge grin on his face. "I was in a

kind of dreamworld where an extraordinarily sensuous

woman made love to me."

'Oh?" she said, smiling at him.

'Too bad it was just a dream," he sighed, rolling toward

her on one elbow, lcx)king her in the eye. "It seemed so

real. Did we..

She giggled, relieved that he had been conscious of their

action. "Yes. We did." Then she suddenly became serious.

"l needed you. I really needed you," she said, a tear flow-

ing from one eye.

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S 'Then I thank you for the beautiful experience," he said

formally, a wicked smile on his face. "What do you think?

Should we

In answer, she came into his arms, her mouth claiming

his.

Chen was at his console in the early morning, scanning

the monitors with a practiced eye. He had not left his chair

all night but had taken two or three catnaps, the chair tilted

back, the massive arms crossed over his chest.

The viewing was a routine matter Not much action was

taking place at that hour. Part of his brain was able to

register every movement and sound from the countless

sources available to him, while the other part took him

back through time as it often did. His life had not been

easy. To acquire the wealth he had, the road had been

rough and he'd learned to be just as rough, to handle each

situation with a cold deliberation as it presented itself.

His story had started early, When the only parents he'd

known—an extremely sanctimonious Christian missionary

couple who had dictated his every move—had died a vio-

lent death at the hands of hill bandits in Thailand, he was

free to make his own way, but without one dollar to start

him on the kind of path they would have wanted for him.

More often than not, starting from absolute zero took a

desperate soul down the path of least resistance. It was

easier to steal from unsuspecting tour•ts than to find a job

that would break his back for enough money to fill his

stomach. He'd had three choices: take what he wanted,

work for it, or beg for it. After years of exposure to

preaching about God's way, words that had been unending

and fallen on deaf ears, the choice had been no contest.

But the way had not been easy. In Singapore, with Hue

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Yen in pwer, and it seemed as if he had tren in B)'.ver

forever, the rule was work hard, stay clean and sotrr, and

honor the rights of others. Someone was always at your

side telling you the "right thing to do," the industrious way

to contribute to the MXiety, what to wear and what to say.

And there were the "what nots." What not to say or do. It

was not difficult for a bright young Chinese teen-ager to

see that life would be easier and richer for him if he were

as industrious as they preached—but that energy chan-

neled in the direction of illicit rather than the puritan way

of Hue Yen's doctrine. Perhaps it was a continuation of the

preaching, the constant regimentation, that had turned him

on his path. He'd had enough preaching. Freedom and

wealth were his objectives, and he went after them with a

vengeance.

He wasn't alone. Thousands of displaced young people

fought for their daily livelihood in the streets and alleys of

Singapore, even in Hue Yen's "E*rfect society." But the big

youth had been just a little craftier than the rest, just a little

quicker than the others, and much more ruthless. His

movement to the top had been slow. Sometimes the leaps

from plateau to plateau seemed huge, but as he grew pros-

perous, then rich, each plateau was not enough. A disease

gnawed at him, pushed him on to new heights, showed him

that a million was a pittance, a billion not an unreasonable

objective, the control of Malaysian wealth not impossible.

He'd tEen only seventeen when he killed his first man.

With the enemy out of the way, he was able to expand. It

was a valuable lesson. Men of his kind were loners, backed

by empty-headed lieutenants who were not leaders. Cut off

the head and the prize was easy to take.

Soon it was no problem to justify the deaths of whole

families to purge an enterprise of leadership. *Ihe end justi-

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fied the means; that rationalization closed the door on con-

science.

It had been a lonely climb through the years. He could

üust no one. Machines were more reliable and had no con-

science. Electronic technology advanced so rapidly, it was

the only medium that could match his greed, his compul-

Sion to have it all.

*Ihe more he used the miracle electronic chip to his ad-

vantage, the less he came into contact with human beings.

His psyche called out for a substitute and found a release in

The rawboned youth on pounds and moved

more slowly. He lost his hair after a bout with a rare fever,

another reason to shun other The image changed

from a tall, muscled youth to a huge, shiny-domed and evil

gargoyle, a face that never smiled, eyes that looked more

reptilian than human. Fat Chen was born after the first

hundred million and dropped out of sight.

Men like Chief Windsor had tried to bring him to jus-

tice, had pursued him unsuccessfully from the first day he

had taken the easy road, but Chen had never left evidence

of his crimes, was never present, and rid himself of any

possible connection to illegal acts by the simple of

ending a life .. .or as many as it took to achieve his ends.

The huge gleaming dome shone in the glow of a

hundred monitors. He shook his huge frame in the mon-

strous chair and rid himself of the memories that haunted

him. This was his life, carefully chosen and gained only

after years of fighting, one difficult, %te-filled step at a

time.

He keyed in the image of a youthful Japanese at work in

a laboratory. "Have you completed the improvements on

my robots?" he asked, his voice filling the room like the

rumble of thunder directly overhead.

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'They are not ready The ones guarding you are state of

the art. You should have no fears."

"You will never use the word 'fear' when talking to me!

And you will address me as 'Excellency'!" the voice

boomed out.

The small Japanese was silent, He had always been un-

communicative. Chen knew the reason. The fool thought

he was that he had only to delay improve-

ments on his current project and hint about new marvels to

stay alive. He was brilliant and he was also a fool. No one

was indispensable. Another genius could be found and

bound to Chen's service.

"I give you until tomorTow," he said. "The improve-

ments will be in place tomorrow or you are a dead man."

Chen keyed in another monitor. Three Chinese men in

their twenties sat around a table playing cards, their ash-

trays filled with mashed but still smoldering butts.

"What of the American?" he demanded.

'The new man and the one he took from jail were taken

by the Soviets—" one of the men started to explain.

"What?? How could you permit such a thing to hap-

pen?" he shouted in Cantonese, the sound of his voice al-

most ear-splitting.

"Permit me to explain, Excellency, The new one is a

dangerous foe. He escaped after killing all the Russians.

But they injured him in some way. He seemed to be dazed

and the woman helped him to a taxi."

woman? What woman?"

"The small one he took from jail was a woman. She

took him to a hotel."

"What hotel? Do I have to drag every word from your

unworthy lips?"

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"*lhe Furama, Excellency. Even now they are in bed in

their room. "

The huge man pondered the news. So he was dealing

with a new enemy, a dangerous one. He grinned, the flesh

of his round face spreading as seldom-used muscles curled

his features into a smile. One man and a weak woman.

And as a bonus they had destroyed the organization the

Soviets had painstakingly set up in his territory. The new

man had tren hurt in the process. The woman was a non-

entity that could be crushed underfoot any time he wished,

or could be given to one of his Irople as a reward.

"Take them."

"Yes, Excellency. Where would you have us take

the m

The mass of flesh that was a human being shook with

glee as he the plot. "Take them to the House.

Quang will inteview them. I will talk to him."

"Anything else, Excellency?" the man asked while the

other two remained silent, frozen by their fear of the man

who held them as slaves to his bidding.

"Yes. lhe Japanese is no longer of use to me. Make

sure he has completed revisions to the and get rid of

him."

Caner rolled over on his back and lit a cigarette. Sa-

mantha's deep breathing was the only sound in the room.

He reached for the telephone and dialed Chief Windsor.

"Where the hell've you tren?" the B)lice asked without

preliminaries.

"A long story. We were taken by a group of Russians,

but we managed to get away."

"That's the kind of understatement my rmple are

famous for," Chief Windsor said, not at all pleased. "I

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counted seven dead. don't need this kind of trouble,

Carter."

"What would you have had me do? lhey took us. Ihey

were about to Samantha and shoot me full of drugs.

We'd have both ended up dead."

"But seven dead. How the bloody hell did you manage

"Professional secret. I'll tell you about it one day. Right

now I'm interested in your opinion," Carter said, bringing

the conversation around to the direction he wanted it to go.

"Were the Russians sent by Robert Quang? Were they act-

ing on their own? Are there more of them?" he asked.

"What do you think?"

think you've cleaned out their nest and someone's

going to tr bloody upset. I don't think they were sent by

Quang. On the other hand, you may have played right into

Chen's hands. One less factor for him to consider."

"So what do you think he'll do?"

"Hunt you down. Get you out of his hair. Where are

you, by the way?"

Carter considered the wisdom of telling the man where

he was on the hotel phone, but figured that if someone

were listening in, it would have to be at the Furama switch-

tx)ard. "I had a small concussion. Samantha managed to

get me as far as the Furama Hotel."

"Are you all right now, old chap?"

"No more than a slight headache. Nothing a good

breakfast won't cure."

"I'd advise you to find another hole to crawl into. They

may be on to you there."

"Any word on Chen's exact location?" he asked.

"No. I'm sorry. My haven't been able to pick up

one clue."

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"Okay. We'll establish another base and get in touch.

Any suggestions?"

"I'm in the background as far as your activities are con-

cerned, Carter. You're on your own," Chief Windsor said.

"One last thing," he added. "We've long suspected Chen

has a special place where he holds and interrogates ene-

mies. A lot of our citizens each year and we

suspect they end up in his hands."

"Where is this place?" Carter asked.

"My people haven't been able to find it for me. But

they've heard it referred to as 'the House.' "

"Sounds ominous. Let me know if you locate it."

"You may find it before I do if you don't watch you

back, Carter," the police chief said, then paused for a long

moment. "Take care of Samantha. She's quite a woman."

"That she is. We'll watch ourselves," Carter said as h

hung up.

So he was no further ahead, he thought, as he mull

over his circumstances. Maybe he was. He'd had three en

emies and now he had only two—as far as he knew.

They had to get out of there. But to where? He deci

on the Lady Hill Hotel again. Why not? He was still regis

tered in three suites, one at the Shangri-la and two at

Lady Hill. He swung from the bed and began to dress.

"What what're you doing?" a sleepy voice from th

bed asked.

'Gt dressed. We're vulnerable here. We're going bac

to the Lady Hill."

She moved with speed once she grasped the urgency

They had only what they'd worn to the hotel, so were in

taxi and cruising along Havelock Road in minutes.

Something was wrong, Carter told himself. Chen ha

eyes everywhere, could even control the drivers of eve

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hired vehicle in the city. He looked through the back win-

dow of the cab from time to time and spotted not one but

two possible pursuers.

"Stop here," he ordered the driver, tossing a Singapore

twenty on the front seat and dragging Samantha out the

With her hand still in his he moved quickly into the

lobby of the Miramer Hotel and to a side door he knew

well. In a second taxi, he scanned the road txhind them,

then the move in the Glass Hotel.

"1)0 you still think the Lady Hill is the tBt move?" she

asked as they transferred to a third cab. "All this evasion

won't help at all if they've got us spotted at the Lady Hill."

"You could right." Ihey had been srraking in Eng-

lish. "Do you SFEak French or German?" he asked.

"Both. My German's better than my French. "Why?"

"Because Chen could have every taxi driver in the city

in his he answered in German. "From now on

we're German tourists. "

"Drop us at the Apollo Hotel," he told the driver in

English, confirming that the man understood the language.

ney took a back to the Miramer Hotel, walked

through the lobby to the employees' exit at the loading

dock, and walked across the street to the River View

Hotel.

"How are we financially?" she asked.

"All right for now. I've got to get in touch with Howard

soon. I need something delivered to the embassy. We'll get

new financing then."

Registering as German citizens, Carter made quite a

show about the airline's having lost their luggage and let

everyone in the lobby know his overall opinion of the inef-

ficiency of everyone in the city. It was a display of Teu-

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tonic superiority that brought him instant dislike and identi-

fied them solidly as demanding and complaining foreigners.

It was as effective a disguise as the short lived Smith-Wells

role, the very British father of the spoiled Caroline.

"What's the new plan?" Samantha asked as they ordered

and drinks from room service.

"I'm going to visit Robert Quang's house tonight. He•d

be very foolish to have evidence at horne implicating him-

self, but I can't afford to pass up an opportunity."

"I'm going with you."

"Not this time."

"What am I to do?"

"You could call Howard. Tell him to send along those

grenades he showed me. He'll know which ones I mean.

I've got an idea I'm playing with, and they may be useful.

Tell him to send at least a few dozen and the phosphorous

ones he showed me."

"Anything else?"

"You've met Pierre. I'll need two more, one lethal. We

want the delivery tomorrow morning and we need a new

bankroll. If 19m not back by noon tomorrow, go to the

embassy and take delivery."

She came to him and looked up into his eyes, concern

evident on her face. "Why wouldn't you be back by

noon?" she asked, holding him by the arrns.

"I don't intend to be more than three or four hours, but

you never now. One clue leads to another. "Do you know

where I can pick up a black outfit fbr a night reconnais•-

sance?"

' 'Hung Tue's on Boon Tat Street. He's one of ours. Tell

him you're with me."


EIGHT

ne house of RotErt Quang was in Ardmore Park, coin-

cidentally almost backing up against the small golf course

of the Shangri-la Hotel where Carter was still a registered

guest. The information had come from Chief Windsor after

Carter's visit to Hung Tue. The small Chinese, one of Sa-

mantha's recruits, had supplied Carter with everything he

needed including a decrepit old Ford Cortina. lhe plice

chief had also come up with the address of Quang's offices

in the Tuan Sing Tower on Market Street.

The house was set back on five acres and surrounded by

a fence. Carter circled the whole proEE1ty and used pwer-

ful glasses to make sure he had all the information he could

get before he went in. He saw no guards, no dogs, and no

robots. lhe absence of security could mean a supremely

confident man or one who used highly sophisticated pro-

tection devices.

Carter donned the goggles Hung Tue had provided.

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Tiey could detect laser trams and showed that the house

was crisscrossed on all sides by laser t*ams that were in-

visible to the naked eye.

He climbed over the fence with no problems. In the

deserted gatehouse, the cable vault that served the laser

network was vulnerable. If this place was true to form, he

couldn't short out the lasers or disconnect them without the

usual alarm t*ing sounded. Strangely, he could not find an

alarrn.

The odds favored Quang overconfident. Carter

knew his electronics, and no alarm existed once the circuits

were cut. Not unless some genius had designed one that

was invisible or wired in at the house.

He cut the cable and checked the security pattern. He

saw no lasers and heard no alarms.

The house was a hundred feet from the gatehouse.

Carter kept to the shadows of a high hedge that bordered

the driveway until he was in the shadows of the house

itself. A figure in black, his face covered with camouflage

makeup, he crept around the structure, looking in every

window.

He saw no one. He heard nothing. But he was in no

hurry, so he gave it a full half hour tEfore he eased Hugo

into the doorjamb at the rear of the house and slipped the

lock. If a silent alarm had tren sounded outside the prop-

erty, someone would have responded by now.

The lower floor was deserted. It spacious and well

appointed as he Two stairways led to the upper

floors, one from the front hall and the other for the servants

leading from the pantry at the back of the house. Carter

chose the front stairs. From experience he knew that the

front stairs were probably of stone, covered with

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while the other stairway was of wood. He wanted no

creaky steps to give away his presence.

The master t:edroom was the first door on the right. He

eased the door and into the shadows. The two

lumps in the tEd were Quang and his wife, asleep. The

man was of slight build, his features bland, his years inde-

terminate. Ihe woman was no tEauty. Her hair was in

curlers and covered by an unattractive net. Her skin shone

from the lotions she applied before retiring. They both

slept soundly.

Carter pulled an object that looked like a from his

pocket, one of Schmidt's gadgets. He held the tip near

Quang's face and depressed the end. One small cloud of

gas entered the sleeping man's nostrils, enough to ensure

he'd not wake for at least an hour.

While Carter moved to the other side of the bed, the

woman moved her head from the pillow and stared at him,

her eyes wide with fright. He reacted instantaneously, and

coverd her mouth with one hand while he administered the

gas with the other: As he moved away, replacing the

like object, he smiled to himself at the thought of her

awakening. Would it all seem like a bad dream to her or

would she convince Quang that they'd had a nocturnal visi-

tor? No matter. They'd find the severed cable in the mom-

ing in any case.

lhe desk in Quang's bedroom produced nothing of

value. In an office next dcxjr, Carter struck gold. The over-

confident successor to the prime minister kept documents

at home linking him to both Chen and the Soviet Union.

Carter took a few minutes to read the most incriminating.

Quang was obviously playing both sides of the fence, but

seemed to lean a bit in Chen's direction. The papers con-

firmed that the Soviet presence had been smell 'hev were

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eliminated and couldn't replaced during this action. So

it was just tktween him and Chen now. Good. He'd take

the better odds and run with them.

One set of was doubly intriguing. Quang had a

plan on file to destroy Chen. He had a complete floor plan

of Chen's fortress, including some kind of elaborate war

room filled with consoles. Unfortunately, the plan didn't

provide an address. Carter would still have to find that out

for himself.

Pulling a small camera from a m)cket, Carter reflected

that Hawk would like to see the evidence, and he'd make

sure Chief Windsor received prints,

He was finished in less than a minute. Eight shots were

enough. They would be very dark but readable.

While he prepared to leave, his mind on the next prob-

lem—whether to tackle Quang's Market Street office—he

heard a sound in the hall outside.

Carter decided his best plan was to wait. to let the other

party make the first move. He made sure the doors to the

small balcony outside the t*droom were ajar and stood

back in the shadows.

The door 01xned slowly. A huge man in pajama tX)ttoms

slipped silently into the carrying a large handgun.

Carter had a problem. Was this one of Quang's

guards, perhaps supplied by Chen? Or was the man a civil

servant, one of Chief Windsor's assigned to a high

government official?

No. It couldn't the latter, he thÄJght. One of Chief

Windsor's men would never roam the halls of this house

dressed as he was. It had to be someone close to Quang.

The decision made, the problem simplified itself.

Carter quietly Wilhelmina from her holster

under his left armpit. He held the Luger by the barrel and

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sed the weam)n as a club when the dark shadow moved

within range.

Carter caught the heavy body and eaced it to the floor.

He'd t*en there long enough. It was time to get out.

While he jogged from the house to the gate, a thought

kept nagging at him. Why had he seen a monitor in every

room of the house he searched? Why monitors and no con-

les? lhe viewers were neither television screens nor

monitors for computers. If they were Chen's, they were

strong evidence that Chen had a hold on Quang stronger

than Carter had thought at first.

His weakness was his measure of the enemy. An adver-

sary who never came out in the orm ws the most danger-

ous of all species. You never knew his real strengths, you

never knew his weaknesses. One myssible weakness had

cxcurred to him. If Chen was secluded in what could only

be an electronic listening pst, that fact in itself would

the man's weakness. Enemies who moved around a great

deal and changed amxarances were harder to stamp out.

On the other side of the coin. a man with a large enough

network could have eyes everywhere. It wasn't unlike an

assignment he'd had in Hong Kong when an entire enemy

tong had been on the lookout for him. Ten thousand pairs

of eyes made one hell of an intelligence network.

Samantha Trail wasn't accustomed to working as the

'unior member of a team. While Barney Feldman and she

had been equals on the surface, he had deferred to her most

f the time, knowing more often than not that she had a

tter sense of the situation than he. Carter had never made

it clear that he was totally in charge, but his presence was

timidating. Maybe it was all in her head, maybe he un-

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consciously took charge, but whatever it was, she felt al-

most reluctant to make a move on her own.

She called Chief Windsor and brought herself up to date

on his talks with Carter. She called Howard Schmidt and

exchanged pleasant banter with him, all of which took five

minutes. It was not enough. Not when Carter was out

there. She roamed the room like a caged tiger, unaccus-

tomed to inactivity, and she thought about the man who

had torn down the wall that for years had deprived her of

any feeling of true womanhood.

She thought about the first feel of him, the first welling

up of feeling that had driven her to take advantage of him

when he wasn't really in total control. And she thought

about his gracious handling of the situation.

She had to do her best for him. It was a compulsion

now.

She stopped pacing and moved to the bed. She spread

out, legs apart, her hands behind her head. The lights were

still on. She sniffed. The place smelled strange. An odor

she had never smelled before seemed to engulf her. A wea-

riness took over and her eyelids closed, not as if she were

merely drowsy, but as if they had been glued closed by an

unknown force.

The last thing she remembered was a feeling that dark

shapes moved beside her bed, enfolded her in some kind of

sting, and her into a conveyance. Some kind of

dream. The kind she didn't need right now.

Caner decided against searching the Tuan Sing Tower,

convinced he had enough on Quang to make the connection

to Chen. He headed back to the River View, content for the

moment.

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