# Singapore Sling3333333

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It was still dark, just after four. He entered silently, not

wanting to wake Samantha. The room was very quiet, and

it smelled differently somehow, not as he'd left it. Coming

out of the lighted hall to the dark room, he a shin

against a chair and swore. When the sound of his own

voice drifted into silence, he couldn't even hear her breath-

inge He tumed on the light on his side of the trd and saw

only the imprint of her on the bedspread.

Samantha hadn't slept in the bed. She wasn't in the

bathroom. He was He'd asked her to make a

couple of simple calls and wait for him. He'd requested

that she not go to the embassy until much later.

Samantha was a trained agent. Even if she didn't like it,

she would have followed orders. He picked up the phone

and called Chief Windsor. Almost as if the man never

slept, he was on the phone in less than a minute.

"Did you talk to Samantha tonight?" Carter asked.

"She called me earlier. Why?"

"When was that?"

"Two. Maybe two-thirty," Chief Windsor said, the tone

of his voice revealing his concern. "Where is she, Carter? I

told you to take care of her."

"She's not here. There's no sign of a struggle. She

hasn't used the bed except to lie on top of it."

"Bloody hell! They've got her. How d(ES the place

"Strange you should ask. I've never smelled anything

like it."

"That's it, then. Hotel thieves brew up their own gas

from a potent root. They introduce it into the keyhole of a

hotel room door and rob the occupants. Any sign they car-

ried her out?"

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"No. Can your rrople interview the hotel staff?"

"By the time we get started they'll all be going off duty.

But we'll have a go."

"If they've taken her, where do you think she is?"

Carter asked.

"The House, wherever that is."

"Have your drag in all their informants. Comb

every source you have."

"You don't have to tell me, old boy. What are you going

"%ere's only one way to go: let them take me, and

they'll take me to the same place."

"Watch yourself, Ca.rter. I know you can handle your-

self, but we have no guarantee they won't kill you both as

soon as they lay their hands on you."

"That's part of the job, Chief Windsor. Usually they

stop long enough to try one interrogation. Let's hope they

run ü•ue to form."

"Right you are. I'm off to muster my Good

luck."

Carter sat on a chair in the deserted room and thought

about Samantha. Hawk would be furious. He asked him-

self how he felt. She was a big girl. She'd decided to be an

agent without having her arm twisted and she knew the

risks. But the timing was lousy.

Wearily, he picked up the phene to call Howard

Schmidt. He had to know if she'd camed out his orders.

They seemed to be broken up into small groups of five

or six. When they moved from one activity to another they

frequently passed another group uudging along, heads

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down, some weeping, others like walking dead, all without

hope.

They were not degraded by having to move about

naked. lhey were not abused sexually. But they were sub-

jected to one small torture after another.

She had lost track of time. When the gas, or whatever it

was they'd used on her, had worn off, she'd been attached

to a group and tEen forced to sit on a stool under a cold

shower until the cold seeped into the core of her bones.

Her group was made up of two Orientals, a man and

woman past middle age, a German businessman, a Bud-

dhist monk, and herself. They were permitted to talk all

they wanted, so she knew that she was in a place called the

House and she was the prisoner of Fat Chen. From time to

time she would see the image of a gargantuan Chinese on a

screen as he shouted instructions at the keepers in a voice

that shook the walls and hurt her ears. They told her the fat

-man with the gleaming dome was Fat Chen. Television

cameras seemed to be mounted everywhere. They told her

Fat Chen could observe their every move.

It seemed like forever, but she'd probably been there for

only a few hours. From the cold shower they'd been led to

a whipping room where they'd all been caned on the back

and buttocks, not enough to break the skin but enough to

start a fire beneath the skin that nothing would quench.

Room to room, hall to hall, an endless, mindless, ever-

escalating succession of tortures. No one seemed to be in a

hurry. They had found a successful formula and were

sticking to it. No one asked them questions. They were

being softened up, not permitted to relieve themselves or

sleep until the interrogators were ready for them.

As they reached the fifth or sixth plateau of this night-

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mare, they were led into a room that was barren except for

a bench with a kind of wooden vise attached. Samantha

was last, forced to watch as each in succession had his left

arrn secured in the vise. •mis torture was selective. It was a

horrible psychological Russian roulette game in which a

man standing to one side nodded or shook his head as each

prisoner's arm was ready for his decision.

He seemed to nod his head when they had an old or

weak subject in the vise and the guards would break the

subject's wrist. The sound of the bone snapping and the

scream of the victim sent a cold rush of fear through those

who waited their turn. Strangely, the man in charge would

shake his head when the subject was strong. But not

always. She couldn't be sure of the pattern.

When it was her turn, Samantha was faced with the

worst ordeal since her rape. She watched the man, her eyes

glued to his face, unable to look elsewhere, a small river of

sweat pouring from her chin.

He nodded his head. The sound of her wrist snapping

filled the dank room. When it was over, she fainted.

He was sitting on a stool under a cold shower. The last

thing he remembered was dropping off to sleep and the

smell in the room increasing as sleep found him. He was in

a group of seven prisoners. He was the only Occidental.

He didn't let them know he could speak their dialects but

listened to them chatter between sessbns of torture that

grew in intensity as they moved from one stone room to

another.

After the whipping that was almost a joke compared to

the tortures he'd suffered in his life, he'd seen Samantha

being dragged along with a group that looked as if they'd

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been through the mill. He was alert enough to note the

swollen left arms of some in the group, some with the bone

protruding. He had to get out of there fast and take Sa-

mantha with him. At the very least, he had to escape and

set Chief Windsor's hounds on the place before they went

too far with his colleague. She looked bad.

They entered another small stone room that was fur-

nished with only a bench and a strange-looking wooden

vise. He knew what it was instantly and his fears were

confirmed when the first victim in his group, a little old

man, was led to the vise and had his left wrist broken.

It was now or never, When it was his tum, one muscu-

lar Oriental took him by the arm and led him to the bench.

Carter turned and shoved two fingers and the thumb of his

right hand in the man's diaphragm, putting everything he

had into it. The other guard came at him with a growl

starting deep in his throat.

Carter whirled. keeping clear of the prisoners, and

chopped the guards in the gut with a karate kick, using his

heel as the point of contact, utilizing all the strength of his

thighs. He was not in the least weakened by what had gone

on before. He whirled toward the bench, picked it up, vise

and all, raised it over his head, and hurled it with all his

might at the cold-eyed one who seemed to be in charge.

In the earlier sessions, Carter had memorized the layout

of the House. He moved from room to room, challenged

by guards, fighting his way to find Samantha.

It was hopeless. She was nowhere to be found. In a

last-ditch effort to do his best for her and to save his mis-

sion, he dived out a window, rolled in the grass, and took

off into the woods surrounding the house.

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Chief Windsor Avas at his desk. The man never seemed

to go home.

'The House is a two-story block structure on Admiralty

Road West about a half mile east of the causeway. I'll try to

be out front. Move your ass on this one, Chief. I couldn't

bring her out."


NINE

Carter was not pursued from the house. After finding

the coin telephone a block away he'd returned to stand

across the street and watch. Nothing seemed to be going on

inside, no lights, no movement, nothing.

In less than five minutes the whine of double-noted

sirens filled the air. The house was soon surrounded by

police vehicles. Men stood or crouched them with

every kind of small arms trained on the house. Chief

Windsor stood with a knot of his best men, about to enter,

when Carter joined them.

They made the usual moves as they went about the busi-

ness of taking over the first floor. One man kicked in a

door while two others went in low, their weapons at the

ready, their task made more difficult by the presence of so

many prisoners.

Nothing moved. Bodies littered the floor. Chief Wind-

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sor rolled one of the guards on his back and smelled his

breath.

"Cyanide," he said, and shook his head.

"The prisoners what hit them?" the chief's

lieutenant asked in wonder as he looked about him.

The prisoners were in small groups. They were all dead.

Atomizers of cyanide lay beside them on the floor where

the guards had dropped them.

"Looks like it was all rehearsed," Carter commented.

"You have to fear something more than death to go this

"But where's Samantha?" Chief Windsor said tightly.

"It doesn't good," Caner muttered.

They searched the building, evey room, every comer,

looked at every body. She wasn't there. They combed the

grounds until one of the officers shouted for them to come

over. He stood near a ditch at the back of the building.

"Here! She's over here!"

Carter and Chief Windsor were the first on the scene,

one at either side of her. Carter felt for a pulse at her

throat. It was strong and steady. She opened her eyes,

smiled, then passed out again. The two men looked at each

other and grinned. Somehow she had made it out a window

and crawled this far.

They carried her gently to a waiting ambulance. She

would be the only one not transported in a body bag.

"So we don't have a single witness against Chen,"

Carter said, his feet up on Chief Windsor's desk, his hand

curled around a cigarette as he prepared to light it.

"Same as always."

"What about all the television equipment? Does it lead

us anywhere?" Carter asked.

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"Futile. It was all radio-controlled, doesn't lead any-

where, nothing conclusive."

"So we're back where we were," Caner grumbled.

"Not entirely," the police chief said. "I've IEen after the

location of that house for a long time. Chen will try to

replace it, but it'll take months."

'TII have him before that," Carter said confidently.

"Don't underestimate him, Carter. You're up against

rx»wer beyond "

'Thanks for the warning. But don't worry, 1911 watch out

for myself."

"What's next for you?"

Carter took a couple of fingers of scotch that was of-

fered and lifted his glass in a salute. "A trip to our embassy

for new supplies. A trip to the hospital to see Samantha."

"I'll see her later. Say hello for me."

"Will do," he said, downing the drink and standing to

leave.

"Carter," Chief Windsor said, causing the man from

AXE to turn from the door. "l realize she's taken with you.

Don't play games with her."

"She's a big girl, Chalkie," Carter said, using the man's

nickname for the first time. "She knows where she stands

with me. No games. No commitments. Nothing beyond

this assignment. That's the best I can do."

"Good enough," the Britisher said. "But if you don't

stick to that, I'll have your bloody ass."

Something had occurred to Carter and he'd almost for-

gotten it in the exchange with Windsor. "I'd like to have an

autopsy report on at least two of the bodies," he suggested.

"Why? My man's up to his armpits with work. What

could possibly ... T'

"I've got a hunch."

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"What are we looking for?"

"I'm not sure. But if Chen is so entrenched in electronic

listening, we might find something."

"All right. I'll have them take a look."

Carter thought about the police chief's last comment

at»ut Samantha as he drove to the embassy in the old Cor-

tina. The battered old British Ford was his only sanctuary

in the city. Chen seemed to know all the other places

they'd used as they'd dropped from hotel to hotel. He

probably had the hospital and the embassy watched, but

Carter couldn't help that. He had to play his own game,

and hiding in a hotel room wasn't going to get the work

done.

He drove to the embassy first, parked the car on High

Street, and called from a public telephone. He dialed and

asked for their chargé d'affaires. The man, Solomon Fry, a

mousy man in stature and outlook, was at his desk.

"Yes, I have your package, Carter, and I don't appreci-

ate your using me as a messenger boy."

Carter ignored the remark. "How can I get in the em-

bassy without being seen?"

"You can't."

"Then someone will have to deliver the package to me.

I don't know anyone else in your shop, so it'll have to be

you."

"Now see here, Carter, I will not take orders from an

outsider—

Carter cut him off. have clout ychl wouldn't believe,

Mr. Fry. Do you want the order personally issued by the

president? Is that what it's going to take?"

"Well, no "

"Meet me in the lobby of the Supreme Court Building in

five minutes," he said, and hung up. He didn't like pulling

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rank on men like Fry. But he had a job to do. The Frys of

this world lived in a cocoon and should never be in the

diplomatic service. It was always a mystery to Carter that

they seemed to exist everywhere.

The little man appeared on time carrying the package.

Carter hung back behind a column and watched for a min-

ute or two to make sure no one had followed the embassy

man. When he strode up to Fry, the foreign service officer

started to berate him for being late.

"I had to be sure you weren't being followed," Carter

said, grinning. "No B)int in your being shot in the pro-

cess."

The little man turned on his heel and scurried from the

imposing lobby. The guard on duty gave Carter a quizzical

look. If he'd known what was in the package, he'd have

blown the whistle and come on the run, his gun in his

hand.

The Killmaster walked casually down the steps of the

imposing govemment building and made his way to the

Cortina, making sure he wasn't being followed. He drove

around for a half hour, again watching his back, until he

was sure he was in the clear.

The hotel he picked was not far from the embassy, the

Victoria, on Victoria Street, an extension of Hill Street or

perhaps the other way around. It was a small hotel with

many of the rooms not air-conditioned, a place he'd not be

expected to use.

The room was large and airy. He orrned the windows to

a brisk harbor breeze and stripped down to take a shower.

Later, with just a towel around his waist, he sat on the bed

and opened the briefcase Schmidt had sent by army jet

overnight. One man, one plane. It was the trst and the

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fastest courier service in the world and only available be-

cause of Hawk's standing in Washington.

The small grenades were all there, at least three dozen

of them. He examined one carefully, making sure he was

familiar with the quick release pin and the small timer dial.

With practice, a weapons expert would be able to set the

timer and toss the grenades, one after the other, at about

five-second intervals. He had something in mind that might

take a bit longer.

The phosphorous grenades, a half dozen, were painted

white to save confusion. They were without timers, so

Carter assumed they were set for ten seconds. Schmidt had

included the small gas bombs as requested and a large wad

of Singapore bills. Carter counted fifteen one-thousand-

dollar bills and estimated the rest to be worth about ten

thousand Singapore dollars, more than enough. It was now

time to visit the hospital.

The Mount Elizabeth Hospital, on a street bearing its

name, was in the most beautifully green part of a garden-

like city. The flower beds surrounding the front of the large

hospital looked more like those seen in botanical gardens

than in hospital landscaping. Huge old trees were every-

where. It was another tribute to Hue Yen that everyone

took pride in the appearance of the city.

"Miss Trail is not registered in my files," the reception-

ist said after consulting her computer."

"Can you tell me who treated her and where he or she

might be?" Carter asked.

"That is confidential information. Are you a relative?"

the handsome middle-aged Chinese woman asked.

"I'm her lover," Carter told her, knowing the effect the

statement would have on her. She would be so anxious t

share her knowledge with her friends, she'd give him what

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he wanted just to get rid of him and be free to talk.

Ill

"Dr. Yao is the name I have. Ask for him in Emer-

gency."

Emergency was on the street floor not far from recep-

tion. Dr. Yao was treating a patient but allowed Carter to

stand by as he finished bandaging a small boy's knee.

"Miss Trail would not let us check her in," he told

Carter when he was finished. "She insisted that after we

got the swelling down, she be fitted with a cast and be on

her way."

"But the pain... "

"A broken wrist can be traumatic to some but not to

others. She seemed to be in control. It was a clean break,

so we let her go."

"Where ... ?" Carter started to ask, but he knew it was

a stupid question to ask a busy doctor. He found a pay

phone and called Chief Windsor.

"She's checked out. Has she called you?" he asked.

"No."

"I'm at the Victoria Hotel under the name Jack Clifford.

If she calls you, tell her, okay?"

"l will," Windsor said. He sounded tired, as if all the

fight had been drained out of him, "Perhaps she's just gone

to ground for a while," he suggested.

Carter hung up feeling at a loss to know where to make

contact with her. It was getting late again. The sun had

gone down and the sky was clouded over. When he re-

turned to his hotel room, discouraged, he switched on the

verhead light and stood at the door, totally surprised.

She sat up in bed, pulling the covers over her breasts

ith one hand. "Close the door and come to bed," Sa-

antha said casually. "l thought you'd never get back."

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The glow of the green monitors reflected from the

ished dome ofFat Chen as he sat in his huge chair. H

looked different. The round contours of his face and bod

seemed to be rent with cracks as if he'd been damaged. H

sat, slumped, worry lines creasing his forehead, the hug

mound of flesh almost deflated like a burst balloon.

The biggest monitor in front of him, fully three fee

square, showed the face of Robert Quang. He was talking

his voice taking on the tones of a frightened man, hi

words a plea for his own future.

"She said she saw this apparition in black. One of m

guards got a glimpse of him. He said the intruder was

beast seven feet tall."

You listen to fools!"

"But my wife—-

"A chattering woman! A stupid woman! You listen t

the braying of fools, Quang!"

"How do you explain the destruction of the House?"

"He was one man. One mortal man. He was lucky. Ou

people were too lax."

"And what do you propose now?"

"Did he find anything incriminating at your house?'

Chen demanded.

"I'm not a fool. I keep nothing incriminating at m

house," Quang lied. He had looked over his papers bu

could not be sure they had not been tampered with. On th

other hand, he could not be sure they had not been dupli

cated in some way. He was past thöoint of worry. He w

frantic. If Chen found out the truth, he was a dead man.

don't understand why the man, whoever he is, didn'

search your office," the huge Chinese spoke to the screen

"He had the freedom of your house and you say he foun

nothing. Why then not search your office?"

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"Your people picked him up before he had the tirne. I

have doubled the security at my office."

"You will do better than that. You will destroy all papers

connecting us."

"As you wish. What about the house? Could he have

found anything incriminating there?"

"I'm not a fool like you, Quang. Nothing can be traced

back to me. Nothing. Every prisoner was killed. Every

guard followed his orders. Not one mouth can utter a word

against me."

"But he's still out there," Quang said, his fear obvious.

"Yes. He's still out there," the monster admitted. "The

next time we get our hands on him, I want him dead."

"It will be done, Excellency," Quang said, his voice

almost a whine.

"But I want him interrogated first. I have to know who

e is and who sent him. I want no repeats of what this man

as done. It is bad for morale."

"Every eye in Singapore is on him," Quang said, trying

to sound bolder than he felt. "We will have him soon."

Chen moved a pudgy hand to cut off the communica-

tion. Beside his right hand a master switch had tren in-

stalled to cut off all power to his monitors and consoles. In

the years since he'd isolated himself, he had never used the

switch. He used it now.

The green glow of the room slowly faded. Residual

ight from cathode ray tubes continued to paint the huge

man a faint greenish tinge for long moments after he had

wn the switch.

He sat, totally immobile, a hungry predator in dark,

ut of his element.

He had to think. All the monitors and all the cameras he

ad scattered around the city were of no use. The thou-

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sands of eyes that served him were of no use. For the first

time in his adult life he doubted himself.

He had seen the man on his monitor when they had him

at the House. He had observed his cold acceptance of the

process of softening up prisoners. He had even seen the

man grasp his opportunity and escarE He had not seemed

superhuman. But he had not seemed vulnerable, even

when in the hands of his people at the House.

Who was he? What was he? How could he, one insig-

nificant man, bring the Chen organization to a complete

standstill?

And what was he doing right now?

He sat in the unaccustomed darkness and tried to find a

solution, tried to analyze his own weaknesses.

His body heat dropped. He started to shiver. The chair

that held him began to creak under his weight as great sobs

shook him.

After a few minutes of self-pity, he shook himself,

firmed up his shoulders, sat up straighter in the chair, and

flipped on the master switch.

The green glow grew stronger as images began to ap-

pear on activated screens. The fresh glow illuminated a

more resolute man. His face was as inscrutable as the

round dome permitted. What had he to fear? Was he not

the power to be feared? He switched his consoles to show

the constant pattern of his robots outside and he swelled

with pride at his own power and brilliance.

One man. One poor, weak, man.

Let him come. He would be destroyed.

All the questions that boiled up in Carter's head were

put aside as he stood by the for a moment just looking

at her. The deep brown eyes stared at him, crinkled in a

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smile. The long oval face was shadowed beneath the

cheekbones, the dark smudges adding to the of her.

She was wearing a peach-colored turban to cover her

shaved head.

Samantha slowly pulled the sheet aside with one hand

and held her arms out to him.

Carter flipped off the light, and the room was cast in a

rosy glow from the lights outside. He walked over to the

bed. Her skin was hot to the touch. She moaned as he ran

his hands over her, then set about the task of pulling off his

shirt, her hands frantic for the touch of him.

He lay with her a long time, his mouth on hers until her

insistence and the urgency of his need drove them to cast

off the rest of his clothing and come together.

Once again, it seemed incredible to Carter that he had

ver thought this body to be a man's. She opened herself to

im, a beautiful flower, and guided him with an urgency

at spoke of her recent awakening. This would be the first

•me she hadbeen with a man with no trepidation from the

rst moment and at her instigation. She seemed to glow

wilh the anticipation of sensations that had been new to her

ntil only very recently.

Carter was in no hurry Life passed by all too quickly

and showed its ugly side all too often. Moments like these

were to be taken slowly and savored like fine wine.

Samantha's attitude was quite different. She could wait

no longer for the ecstasy she had experienced with this

man. The depths of her seemed like an open flame as she

rought them together. He paused momentarily to suck in

his breath expelling it in one long sigh, a sound that

aused her to become still more demanding.

He could see that he could not slow the pace—not this

first time tonight. He moved over and into her, felt himself

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rising to a more quickly than he would have liked, but

rejoiced at the result it created in her.

Samantha was in the midst of one long orgasm. He held

himself back, waiting for her passion to wane. But it did

not. It went on for what seemed like minutes, the heat of I

her breath on his neck, the cries of her pleasure sharp and

unmistakable in their joy.

Carter took her cries as a signal to add to her excite-

ment. He let himself go. The psychological effect on her

was startling. The fact that she had given him pleasure

seemed to take her over the top, to add to her own plea-

sure, almost to the point of pain.

Then it was over. Her breath came in ragged gulps as

she clung to him, repeating his name over and over, almost

like a chant.

"Oh, Nick. I'll never in my life feel anything approach-

ing that. My God! I owe you so much."

He moved slowly off her, caressing her still, basking in

the afterglow of the pleasure she had given him. "Not so,

my sweet Sam. It was there all the time, hungry to get

out." His breath, too, was ragged. Even in the superb

physical condition that he maintained, the energy she had

demanded had taken its toll. "We'll be together again. You

will love other men. Think of it as a

"It will never be like this," she said, holding him tight,

tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I won't argue. But you'll see," he said as he released

her and rolled to his back. "How Ad you find me?" he

asked her at last. "I thought I'd covered my tracks."

She lay on her back, her breasts flat to her chest as it

heaved with the last of her deep breaths. "Chen is not the

only one here with an organization. I was lucky. One of my

people is a porter here."

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"Good. I was afraid I'd slipped up somewhere. Fat

Chen seems to have eyes everywhere. "

"Are we going to stay here? I have a couple of safe

houses we could use."

'Tey may tx useful yet. It does seem like we've been

doing a lot of hotel hopping," he said. "But that's all over,

"Why? What's changed?"

"As far as I'm concerned, Chen is the power behind all

the action here. Hawk was very specific: find and destroy

whoever is the trouble here."

"But we haven't found him."

"We've accomplished a lot," he said, reaching for his

cigarettes and lighter. He lit two and handed one to her.

"The Russians are out of it. I've found proof that Robert

Quang is up to his neck in it. As you say, we have to find

Chen. Hess the real monster. When we do, I'll destroy

him."

She put her cigarette in an ashtray and snuggled closer.

"l wish I could be as confident as you. The man is the most

powerful crime lord in the Far East. He controls all of

Malaysia. What about his mansion? I've heard it's impreg-

nable."

"Nothing is impregnable," he said, putting one arm

around her, her to curl up even closer. 'Chens

like every overconfident megalomaniac before him, will

have chinks in his armor. I've already got some ideas as to

how we'll destroy him."

"Let's forget about Chen," Samantha said, moving

against Carter, her skin hot, her breath starting to come in

little gasps again.

He crushed out his cigarette and held her close. She was

content for a moment or two, then slipped from his arms

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and gracefully straddled his thighs. "I've wanted to do this

from the first time you touched me," she whispered.

"Relax and leave the action to me."

Carter was not about to argue. He was many things but

he was not a fool.

Chief Windsor stood by the coroner and looked down at

the body. "What is it?" he asked.

"An implant. Don't ask me exactly what," the coroner

said.

"I'm into electronics as a hobby," one of the other medi-

cal examiners ventured. "It looks like a small transmitter to

Chief Windsor needed no confirmation. Of course it

would be a transmitter. "You found one on the other dead

man?" he asked.

'The same."

'Thanks for taking the time. It payed off," Windsor said

as he turned from the table.

As he let himself out of the white-tiled room, his active

brain was trying to sort out the facts. What the hell was he

dealing with here? Chen was known to have video cameras

in hundreds of key locations. But to implant listening de-

vices in his guards? The man had to be totally paranoid.

He'd have to have equipment to tune in on all his people,

hundreds or even thousands of frequencies, something

the range of norrnal technologh His people would

have to be so afraid of him, they'd subject themselves to

anything to serve him. It confirmed the awesome reality of

the cyanide deaths. This man had to be the ultimate, the

most ruthless criminal he'd ever dealt with.

The listening devices helped form a pattern, but the evi-

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dencc would never convict Chen of anything. They had yet

to tie him in to a specific crime.

He thought about Nick Carter. In all of his career he'd

never run into anyone like him. He'd also never given a

man so much latitude. But what else could he do? Chen

and Quang had to be stopped and doing it himself was

impossible. He wondered where Carter was now and what

he was doing.


TEN

Samantha was lying on her left side, the arm with the

cast stretched out before her. She looked beautiful and very

vulnerable. A feeling of tenderness welled up in Carter and

he decided the next act in the drama would be a solo.

He shook her gently. She opened her eyes and smiled up

at him, instant recognition and love flooding her face.

"Hi," she said, stretching sleepily "You're all dressed.

are you going?"

"I don't want you in on this until you're feeling

stronger. "'

"Where are you going?" she repeated, her smile turning

into a frown.

"Looking for Chen. He owns three estates, right? You

said he had one on Telok Blangah Road near the Ginseng

Essence Balm Park, one on Pioneer Road near the Jurong

Bird Park, and one on Lady Hill Road."

"Not without me, buster."

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NICK CARTER

"l don't want to pull rank, Sam. I just want you to stay

put for another day or two," he said, sitting on the bed

beside her. "You're an experienced agent. I'm not going to

coddle you. Just give it another couple of days, okay?"

"All right. But I suggest we get out of here. What about

one of my safe houses? They're not much for comfort, but

they're safer than a hotel now. I should have taken you to

one earlier."

"Maybe you're right. Where?"

"I've got two. The best is on Pekin Street in

Chinatown, number Thirty-seven. It's a gift shop in front.

Just pass through the bead curtains at the back and ask for

"Sounds good. I'm getting weary of all this moving

around from hotel to hotel. But I've got one errand for you

before we're done with the hotels. Can you get into my

suite at the Shangri-la and pick something up?"

Samantha smiled broadly. "The housekeeper is the sec-

ond cousin of one of my best people."

"In a clOthes closet she'll find a cesta. Take it to the safe

house. And take this case." He indicated the briefcase

Schmidt had just sent over. "We'll probably need it."

"Just one question: What the hell's a cesta?"

"He laughed as he moved to the door. "It's a wicker

throwing device, a kind of curved basket used in jai alai.

You know what I mean?"

"I've seen them, sure, but I never knew what they were

called. Okay. But I'm beginning to wonder about you,

Carter," she said, a puzzled expression on her face. "Ille

famous Killmaster wants me to pick up a toy for him. Is it

okay if I ask why?"

"It's all part of my fiendish plot, lovely lady spy," he

said with an evil cackle as he reached for the door. Then he

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added seriously, "Take care of yourself. "I'll see you at the

safe house."

It was dark by the time he drove the Cortina along Or-

ange Grove Road near the Lady Hill mansion. Instead of

watching his back, he was thinking about Samantha, and

his mind was also going over the floor plans for the Chen

fortress he'd found in Quang's house, remembering every

detail. It was going to be one hell of a tough nut to crack.

But first he had to find it.

Before he reached any of Chen's addresses, some of his

people came at Carter in two cars. One was a tanklike

replica of a Checker cab, the other an old Buick Electra.

Either car outweighed his Cortina two to one.

They had clubs, obviously intent on taking him alive.

Carter was fully armed. Before he'd left, he'd slipped

on his weapons. He never liked eight-to-one odds, but fully

armed, he'd fought his way out of worse situations.

They didn't come at him in any predetermined forma-

tion, just piled out of the cars and moved as quickly as they

could.

Carter was out and firing faster than they could get to

him. He caught the nearest two in the head. They fell

backward into their own people, blood, bone chips, and

brain matter spraying them all.

In the second or two of respite, Carter used two of his

9mm bullets to take out a tire on each car, an act that might

provide insurance if he got past the wall of flailing clubs.

One club—they were like slim baseball bats—clipped

his gun hand and sent Wilhelmina flying. Hugo was in his

right palm in an instant and creased the next two who got

within range.

While they backed off slightly, two dead and two

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NICK CARTER

slashed badly, one moved in on him from the rear, his

crepe-soled shoes silent.

Carter's ear was atuned to the slightest sound. He

waited until the perfect moment and swung to the side,

catching the club in the palm of his left hand and wresting

it from his attacker as it swung on him.

Armed with his stiletto in one hand and the club in the

other, the odds were beginning to feel much better. One

man came at him in a frontal attack, his club arcing at the

man from AXE menacingly.

Carter ducked under the club, paralyzed the man's hand

with a blow to the knuckles, and skewered him on the

needle-sharp blade.

The short encounter had taken too long. Too late, Carter

sensed one of the clubs moving through the air at his back.

While he tumed to ward off the blow, the club crashed

against his skull not an inch from the still tender lump he'd •

received only days ago.

Strangely it didn't hurt, but he felt his knees buckle.

The last thing he remembered was the whine of a familiar

double-noted siren in the distance. Instead of growing

louder it faded as a blanket of black swirling clouds en-

gulfed him.

Chief Windsor stepped from the police car as it skidded

to a halt. The sight that met him was straight out of a

gangster movie. Two big black cars hemmed in the Cor-

tina. Two men were dead, the back of their heads blown

off. Two others couldn't see for the blood coursing from

knife wounds on their scalps. One man lay moaning, a

broken club next to his prostrate body, a knife wound in his

chest.

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'Get a line on these three vehicles," he ordered a lieu-

tenant.

s 'The Cortina was driven by your American the last time

we saw him," he was told.

Chief Windsor looked like a beaten man as he searched

the scene with care. He found Carter's gun and his knife on

the sidewalk near the dead men. Five men on the sidewalk

and Carter missing. The police chief cursed under his

breath. Ihey had Caner, and he had no idea where they

could have taken him. It could bc any of a thousand places.

"I want the two bodies autopsied right away," he or-

dered. 'Tell the coroner to look for electronic implants."

His face was lined. He looked ten years older than the man

Carter had met only days earlier. "Get the three wounded

men to Emergency and keep a whole squad on guard at the

hospital. If they have implants, have them removed and

destroyed. I'll want to talk to them when they've recov-

ered."

' 'This one won't able to talk for a long time," one of

Windsor's men offered. "He's got a soft spot on his skull

the size of an orange, and a knife wound in his chest. He's

in bad sha&"

The police chief wasted no time on sympathy. It looked

like they'd gone after Carter with a small army. God!

Bloody hell! It had to' be Chen, or Quang working for

Chen, he thought. After seeing the evidence from Quang's

desk, maytk it was Quang working alone and in the pro-

cess of a td,eover.

What could he do? he asked himself in frustration. His

ands were tied. Robert Quang was still the second most

B)werful political figure in the city and they had no evi-

dence strong enough to present to Hue Yen. Even the

pers in Quang's desk didn't implicate him conclusively.

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NICK CARTER

The facts could be twisted by clever argument.

He held the 9mm Luger in his hand and hefted it before

he shoved it into a pocket. "I'll in my office if anyone

wants me," he told his aide. He walked to his car, his

shoulders stooped.

In the car he picked up the receiver and called dispatch.

"Patch me in to the Victoria Hotel," he commanded.

He waited for a full two minutes for the connection and

talked with the front desk. Samantha had checked out. The

room was clean of any signs of the two of them. He

slumped back in his seat. Did the bloody monster have

both of them?

Gradually Carter could feel his senses return, but every-

thing was still black. He was tied to a steel chair and the

chair seemed to bolted to the floor. He was stripped to

the waist, his feet bare.

He felt around the floor near the chair with his feet as

night vision started to give him a glimmer of his surround-

ings. His feet read the pattern of the floor. It was steel.

Rivet heads dotted the area around him. The whole area

rocked slightly,

A ship. He was in the hold of a ship. He called out and

the sound bounced back at him from four steel walls. He

could see better now, but he saw nothing significant. The

place was totally empty. It was large. Perhaps a hundred

feet long by seventy wide. It was aNo a long way to the

steel cover over his head. He strained to see above him and

could make out a half-dozen shaded electric bulbs set in the

ceiling and a large square opening that had been covered

by a sliding panel.

So it was a hold. His deduction was confirmed as the

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127

at rocked more than trfore, perhaps from the wake of a

assing ship.

He could hear no engine throb and could feel no for-

ard motion. An anchor chain chafed, steel-on-steel, from

•me to time. Ihey were at anchor, probably in Singapore

arbor.

Caner rubbed his chin against a shoulder. He felt no

ppreciable beard. He'd shaved just before leaving the Vic-

ria, so he hadn't been unconscious for long.

All his deductions led him nowhere. It didn't matter. He

ad to keep his brain active, to assimilate as much knowl-

ge as he could. He'd been taken by enemies tEfore and it

as always some bit of information he'd gleaned from ob-

ation of a small mistake by the enemy that had saved

His mental exercises were interrupted before he'd gone

ery far. The overhead lights flashed on, almost blinding

•m, and a bulkhead was thrown open, clanging against the

ull. A line of men walked toward him. Robert Quang was

fourth man to come into view He was dressed as he

ght for a session in Parliament or an interview with his

ss Hue Yen. Carter had seen Quang in bed, vulnerable,

hair rumpled, his mouth agape as he slept. They were

o different men. This one carried an air of command—

nd one other thing. His face had the unmistakable look of

man with a mission, prepared to be as ruthless as the task

uired.

Carter was distracted for a moment as two men came in

m another bulkhead pushing a cart and trailing a set of

bles. A video monitor. It had a camera installed over the

athode ray tube. He should have known Chen wouldn't be

eft out of this. It tied the two men together conclusively,

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NICK CARTER

but that information wasn't going to do Carter any good

unless he survived.

"You defiled my house," Quang spat at Carter while the

men set up the monitor.

"And I doubt your friend Chen knows what I found," he

shot back.

"Don't activate the monitor," Quang shouted to his

men. "Chen can wait a few minutes.

"Just who are you, Carter? Who do you work for? What

the hell do you want?"

"I'm a man who loves freedom," Carter said calmly.

"For everyone," he added.

"Just what's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's not play games," Carter said. "You're playing

both ends of this onc and you'll get burned very badly, The

Soviets don't forgive lightly. They've probably already

sent out a team to interrogate you."

"Silence him!" Quang yelled at his men.

A muscular Chinese guard whirled a rubber hose ov

his head and brought it down sideways across Carter's le

cheek, The pain felt like the blast of fire from a blowtorch.

"Have you heard of the Serbsky Institute, Quang? They

have new drugs—

The hose lashed at him from the other side, knockin

his head to one side, stinging like fire and straining th

muscles of his neck. Blood ran from t.X)th cheeks to hi

neck and down his bare chest.

"If Chen finds out about your selling out to the Rus

sians, you're a dead man," Carter taunted. He could tak

the pain. Wounds would heal. Quang would not kill hi

unless he could be sure Carter hadn't passed on what h

knew. It bought time and time bought opportunity.

"Who are you working with?" Quang screamed at him

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129

His face was distorted by hate. He seemed to have lost

control.

The man was a fool. Any third-rate detective would

have found by now that he was working with Samantha

and Chief Windsor. How Quang had managed to get so far

was a mystery. Hue Yen had to be using him as a weak

substitute and had no thought of a succe€sor. Chen had to

have played with this one like a cat with a mouse. 'Ihe

Russians were using a malleable man already in power. It

was obvious now who was the real villain. He would get

Chen, but first he had to get out of this.

On a signal from Quang, one of the guards put on a

black leather glove and smashed Carter in the face with a

rock-hard fist. The cartilage of his nose broke. Blood

poured in a steady stream down his chest.

"Who do you work for? Who knows what you have

learned?" Quang shouted, his voice an octave higher.

'Go to hell, Quang," Carter muttered through the blood.

Quang nodded to his men and two of them smashed

their fists into Carter's face until his lips were split and he

was unable to talk.

Light glowed from the monitor as one of the men con-

nected the cable.

"Who told you .. .?" Quang started to say before he re-

alized that Chen could be listening already. He had no

knowledge of the implants. Chen had not tEen connected

by monitor, but his ears had been glued to the speaker that

told him all that had gone before.

"You are a fool, Quang," the gargoyle of a face glow-

ered at him. "'Ihe man is senseless and you have learned

nothing."

"How did you

"l can see for myself. The look of frustration on your

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NICK CARTER

face tells me. The man took a beating and told you noth-

ing. You are a weak fool and I ask myself if you can possi-

bly serve me further."

The statement was followed by a long silence. Carter's

eyes were closed but he was conscious of every word. The

beating he had taken had changed his appearance but had

not sapped his strength. His enemies were at each other's

throats. The odds were changing.

"You still have some minor value, Quang. If anything

happened to Hue Yen, you would be an asset. So you still

have your life—for now," the voice from the domelike

skull roared out of the monitor. "Now take this one to the

interrogation room I had installed on the quarterdeck. Use

the drug expert I sent you. And don't screw it up this

time."

The image faded as Chen tuned them out.

"Untie him," Quang squeaked, his voice almost para-

lyzed by fright. "Take him to the quarterdeck. And don't

make any mistakes."

Carter could see well enough through his shattered face.

Four guards surrounded him after he was untied, each car-

rying an automatic rifle.

They marched him through a bulkhead and toward a

long, narrow set of steel steps. Two guards preceded him

and two brought up the rear, their submachine guns held

across their chests. They were like four robots, pro-

grammed, mindless, and unbending.

Carter timed their ascent until the) were close to the

top, then lashed out with a karate kick that sent two of the

guards tumbling down behind him. The third guard turned,

his rifle describing an arc that was about to take Carter's

head off.

The Killmaster ducked and used the man's momentum

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to grab his gun and lever him over the rail and to the deck

While the screams of the falling guard still filled the

great steel hold, Caner swung the butt of the rifle up and

into the groin of the fourth man.

Ihe last man him and the top of the steps

dropped his gun, a of surprise and honor transforming

the normally bovine face. He fell toward Carter who bent

and rolled the man over his back and down the stairs to

knock down the two who were starting to recover.

The Killmaster was up and on the quarterdeck in sec-

onds. Two men came at him. lhey were t(X) close to fire

without hitting each other, so they swung on him with the

wooden stocks of their weapons. Carter ducked under the

attack. The rifle butt of one man stmck the collarbone of

the other. The noise was like the snap of a dry tree limb as

it bounced off the bulkhead walls.

Carter was too busy to notice the sound of the bone

breaking or the grunt of the other guard as he turned to face

the man with the shattered face. The open stairwell was

behind the guard. One well-aimed uppercut lifted him off

his feet and down the steel steps.

Even Carter's exceptional physical conditioning was

taxed by the beating and the fight. He had his strength, but

he was still not free. He raced on bare feet to the short

flight of stairs leading to the night air and was on the open

deck in seconds.

A guard fired from the poop deck, the small missiles

from his gun sending sparks into the blackness near Carter.

Dressed in the tattered remnants of his pants, he didn't

hesitate. He raced for the rail and dived in a long, clean arc

until he hit the water, piercing the surface with Olympic

precision, hardly creating a splash.

He'd soared through the air for a long time. The depth

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NICK CARTER

of his plunge surprised him. Had he landed parallel to the

surface, it would have been like falling onto concrete from

a ten-story building.

*Ihe water felt cool and soothing to his bruised skin. It

was an element that was familiar to him. He was in no

hurry. Men would be at the rail of the ship waiting to fire

on him when he surfaced.

A practiced swimmer can cover a lot of distance in four

minutes, and Caner intended to stay submerged to his

limit. He came up far enough away from the ship to avoid

detection, 'Ihe men on the rail seemed a long way off.

He looked around in the light chop of the harbor as he

continued to tread water. He was surrounded by enormous

freighters. It would be easy to swim to the third or fourth

one removed from his enemies and hail the watch for help.

But Chen owned a large percentage of the fleet. It

would be like playing Russian roulette. The harbor lights

were about four miles away. He could make it if he paced

himself. He started out in a steady distance-eating crawl to

the shore.


ELEVEN

Carter was tempted to wade ashore at Sentosa Island

and catch his breath, but he wasn't known there. To wade

ashore, a half-naked derelict with a damaged face, would

invite tcx) much curiosity, something that could play into

the hands of Chen's Besides, he knew a shop-

keeper near the Empire dock, a man of discretion whom he

had helped in the past.

The Empire dCRk was quiet at that time of night. Chen's

guards had taken his Rolex, but he knew it had to be past

midnight. He pulled himself up a slippery vertical ladder to

the dock and sat, winded, waiting to regain his full strength

and to evaluate his surroundings.

Wan Foo's place was less than a block away. He glided

through the shadows and confronted the old man who was

sitting alone in a back room smoking a pirv

They greeted each other formally in Mandarin. fie old

man disregarded his friend's condition while Carter ignored

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NICK CARTER

the fact that his old friend was almost in a state of trance

from the opium.

"I have need of your telephone, old father," Carter said.

"My house is at your dispsal," Wan Foo responded,

still with all the fonnality and dignity of a regal meeting.

Carter called Chief Windsor and brought him up to date.

He was reluctant to use the policeman, but he didn't have

the number of Samantha's safe house.

"We've been frantic about you, old boy," Windsor said.

"We?" You've seen Samantha?"

"She has few secrets from me, Carter. I know where she

is."

Ten you can take me there," he said, telling the police

chief to pick him up in front of the Empire dock.

"May your family prosper for a thousand years," Caner

said as he stood to leave.

"My house is always at your disposal, old friend Nick."

Wan Foo was far gone with opium but not that far gone

that he didn't recognize Carter behind the swollen face.

Friends like Wan Foo had saved Carter's life throughout his

career.

The police car glided to a quiet stop and Carter crept out

of the shadows to step inside.

"Pekin Street," Chief Windsor ordered his driver, a

young giant who acted as the police chief's personal body-

guard.

"They'll be combing the streets for you now more than

ever," Chief Windsor said, grimacing at the sight of

Caner's face.

"Let them. Ihey're shook up now, not thinking as ra-

tionally as before," Carter said, then added: "What do you

think of Robert Quang?"

"He couldn't have come as far as he has without being a

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winner. I don't know him personally, but he's reputed to be

a strong man, bound to go a long way."

"Wrong. Sony to disagree, Chief, but you've been mis-

informed," Carter said, sitting back in the car. "Do you

have a cigarette."

"Sorry, no."

The driver handed back a crumpled pack of Players and

a box of matches. Carter lit up and held the cigarette gin-

gerly between smashed lips. He drew the smoke deep into

his lungs and felt his ragged nerves calm.

"On what do you base your theory?" Chief Windsor

asked.

"Not a theory. I've seen him, goaded him, saw him go

to pieces," Caner said. "He's been a man in the right place

at the right time. Chen picked him up as a front and helped

uild his image. He's paranoid with fear of Chen. And he

was a perfect vessel for the Soviet campaign, so they

oved in too."

"But he was smart enough to play both sides."

"And stupid enough to think he could play them both

off and get away with it. No. Hess the weak link and I'm

going after him. He could be my ticket to Chen's lair."

"Good luck," Chief Windsor said as they pulled up at

7 Pekin Street. The door was opened by a frightened Chi-

nese woman. The police chief didn't acknowledge her but

moved through the bead curtains to the back.

Samantha saw Carter and Chief Windsor and jumped up

m where she was sitting. She ran over to them, staring

at Carter's face in horror.

'S Your poor face," she murmured, pulling him into the

ight, "I'll get some antiseptic and bandages."

"Don't worry about it. I'll be okay," Carter said.

"But 1—

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NICK CARTER

"No time. Quang was the one who took me and now we

know he's the key to get at Chen. I'm going after him."

"Not alone. Not in that condition," she protested, trying

to take his face in her hands.

He gently pulled her arms away. "We've got lots of

business left to do tonight. Forget about my face,"

She eased herself away from him, hurt.

"Do you have some clothes I could wear he asked her.

"Yes." Her answer was terse.

"And I'll need weapons. I lost mine when they took

"My driver has them," Windsor said. "We found them

near the cars on Orange Grove Road."

'Good. I don't want to waste any time."

"What makes you think Quang will have left the ship?

By the way, could you identify the ship?" the police chief

asked.

"He's crossed Chen and he knows that Chen knows it. I

think Chen's going to play it cool and still use Quang but

no way is Quang going to stay on board when he can be

safe in his own house."

"And the other question?"

"No. It was one of hundreds. It was dark. The name of

the ship was obscured."

"I don't like you going to Quang's alone," Samantha

said, coming out of her snit and getting into the conversa-

tion.

"You can help, but only as a lookoåt. I'm going to bring

him out and question him here."

"I've got reports of men patrolling his grounds and

house," Chief Windsor said. "Remember Carter, he's a

government leader. Public sympathy's on his side."

"That may be your problem but it's not mine," Carter

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said. "I'm cleaning this up for you. You've got to make

some sacrifices."

"Like picking up the bodies. You seem to leave a trail

after you, Carter."

"And the worst is yet to come. When we get around to

Chen, it will probably sound like all-out war. You're going

to have to hold off your men no matter what."

"For how long?"

"How long does a war take? Maybe ten minutes. Maybe

half an hour. It could be a standoff for an hour or more."

"What about tonight?" the police chief said, the strain

he'd been under showing on his face.

"Samantha will be parked just down the street. You park

half a block away from her. When you see me come out

with Quang, move in and clean up as quickly as possible."

"Is this going to a war too?"

J'A very silent one. When you go in, leave the cleanup

to your men and you go after any records he's left there."

"Not after your first visit, surely."

"Once a stupid man, always a stupid man," Carter said.

"He probably thinks lightning can't strike twice in the same

place. He's just simple enough to have them all there as

before."

"How will you keep this visit quiet?" Samantha asked.

'&orge says Quang has surrounded himself with body-

guards."

"Men like the ones he's hired never see a rocking chair,

Sam. They know the risks. If Chief Windsor wants it quiet,

it will be quiet as the grave."

"You sound like you enjoy this, Caner," the police chief

accused.

Carter drew in smoke from one of his own custom-

blended cigarettes. He looked from one to the other, from

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NICK CARTER

the sweet face of the woman who his life to the

hardened face of a man who had seen it all but was still

trying to understand. "You misread me, Chalkie," he said,

talking softly with emotion. "Killing sickens me. But the

moment the innocent are deprived of men like me, the

world will crawl with vermin that will devour honor and

decency. No, I don't like killing, but I'll kill if it advances

our chances of staying civilized."

Ardmore Park was as quiet as a tomb at four in the

moming. Carter got out of the car and headed for the wall

of the estate. He normally wouldn't have permitted Sa-

mantha to help, but he needed transport to take Quang out

and he knew that Chief Windsor would have an eye on her.

He shook himself mentally, forcing himself to maintain

the icy calm and total concentration the job required. He

had promised Chief Windsor a quiet war. All he had to do

was get past all lasers, silence all the guards, and take

Quang out by force. I shouldn't make promises like this, he

thought. Without using Wilhelmina he might be totally out

of luck.

Carter dropped to the ground inside the stone wall

knowing no laser beams came within three feet of the wall.

He wore goggles that detected the rays and he carried a

small hand mirror. But he wasn't completely confident of

the method he'd devised to get around the beams. In

breaking the beam, he might trigger an alarm. What was

worse, the alarm could be silent, a smahl warning bulb that

showed up on a security monitoring board indoors.

"But there was no way to back off now. He curled the

first beam to the sky and stepped past .it as if he'd just

swung a gate open and closed. He waited a full twenty

minutes but nothing happened. The odds favored him

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slightly more now, but the men inside might just be a little

better than average. They might be playing He

had no way of knowing.

There was no point in delaying now. He manipulated the

beams like an expert, bending each in turn toward the

heavens to allow him passage and was soon in the shadows

close to the front door: The goggles showed no more

beams him and the house. He put them and the

mirror in an oversize hip pocket and crept from window to

window looking for the guards.

Only one room was occupicd. Two guards sat in a mon-

itoring room, playing cards, paying scant attention to the

monitoring screens. With the rest of the house dark, were

the others asleep or standing guard in the dark? The odds

favored two on duty and two asleep, if Chief Windsor's

intelligence was right, but he couldn't be sure. Quang may

have beefed up the staff to twice that numtrr.

Hugo filled his right hand at the flick of a wrist. He

opened the pantry door easily with the help of the knife.

The pantry and the kitchen were quiet. A night light pro-

vided a slight glow on a far wall.

The large dining room was empty. He hadn't really ex-

pected trouble in that area. There were three other rooms

on the ground floor. The library was empty as was the huge

living

Light shone below the security room off the front hall.

It was obviously a converted walk-in closet. Carter eased

the door open quietly, noted the two men, and closed the

door again.

Question: Could he take the rest of the guards silently

without waming these two, then subdue Quang and carry

him out? Too much of a gamble. He ripped Pierre from his

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inner thigh, working too quickly, taking skin and hair with

the

He eased the door open a crack, twisted thc two halves

of Pierre, and tossed the bomb inside.

The two men saw him at the last minute. neir reaction

was too slow to save themselves, but enough to knock over

their chairs and make a racket as they fell across the table.

A guard came on the run, his feet encased in untied

tennis shoes. He opened the door, the light flooding out

into the hall. Carter cold-cocked him with the butt of his

Luger and caught him as he fell. He closed the door, shut-

ting off the light. The two who had been gassed would be

out for a couple of hours. The other was good for at least a

half hour.

Three down. Perhaps only one to go.

Carter padded silently up the stairs in the direction the

third man had come from. Unlike the other two, he was

without a coat. He'd probably been napping when he heard

the noise.

In the master bedroom, Carter found Quang and his

wife asleep, guarded by a man who sat snoring just inside

their door. He used a paralysis hold at the base of the

man's neck, then gave him a small shot of the green liquid

from Schmidt's small leather case.

The master of the house and his wife slept on. Carter

prowled the third floor for domestic help. He

found evidence that they'd been there recently, but they

were not there now.

So it was over. All he had to do was render Quang

unconscious and carry him out.

While he was preparing a syringe with green fluid,

something came at him out Of the darkness in a karate leap,

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and a foot crashed against his ribs, knocking the syringe to

the floore

'Ihe blow felt like a ten-pound hammer swung at full

force. He turned to see a small woman in jade-green silk

pajamas, her head a mass of oversize rollers in a pink net.

The woman was in a fighting pose that had all the style of a

black-belt champion. Carter moved swiftly to take up a

similar position facing her.

Quang sat up in bed, terrified, his eyes glued to the

battle.

Carter feinted to the right and brought his left foot into

play, catching the woman off guard, bouncing her off the

far wall. The blow was from an expert, and as she picked

herself up, the woman seemed to know it.

She circled cautiously, concentrating on her opponent,

too wraped up in the fight to call out to her husband to run.

From what Carter could see, the woman's body was a

perfect example of the female body builder but more sup-

ple and quick. Her thrusts were fast and deadly. If Carter

had not been her suÆxrior in technique, he could have lost

it all right there.

She came at him again and he grabbed her foot in mid-

kick. He twisted, controlled her movement toward him,

turned her around, and ran her into the wall. Before at-

tending to her husband who seemed paralyzed as he sat in

bed, he examined her. She was not badly hurt, just out of

action for few minutes.

Carter found the small case on the floor and the syringe

with the green liquid ready to inject. He cleared the needle

of air, jammed it into Quang, and hoisted the small man

onto his shoulders:

The ride back to the safe house was uneventful. Carter

carried Quang in a back door, following Samantha.

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"Where's Chief Windsor?" Carter asked as he cleared

off a packing table with the sweep of one arm and stretched

Quang out on his back.

"He had to get back to business. He said we should call

when we're ready to work on Quang."

"This is one time we're not going to wait for him,"

Carter said. "From here on, if we get what I'm looking for

from Quang, we're going to move fast and finish this off."

"And I'm a part of it?"

"I'm going to need you, yes."

He looked at her briefly as he pulled the small leather

case from his pocket, She was excited. Maybe she

wouldn't be so happy about being part of the final show-

down when the firing started, but it couldn't be helped.

She was a trained agent and he had a job for her.

He opened the case and withdrew a fresh syringe. He

filled it with the orange liquid. It was a truth serum that

Howard Schmidt had helped develop in conjunction with

some biochemists from the National Research Council. It

was much more reliable than what the Soviets had devel-

oped and used all too often at Serbsky. This version was

more reliable than the Soviets', but it was still potentially

dangerous. Where theirs could fry a brain if misused, the

American version put a strain on the heart that a weak

organ could not tolerate.

"I've got something for you to do while I'm working on

Quang."

"But I want to be here."

'This is important. I'm not going to start for a few min-

utes and you could do the task in that time."

"What is it?"

"l want you to use your contacts to make two shields,

oblong in shape, about four feet long by three feet wide.

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They have to be made from two materials," Carter said,

setting aside the syringe and lighting a cigarette. He was

still all in black, his battered face covered with black

makeup over a layer of lotion that protected his lacerations.

He blew smoke to the ceiling away from her The room

was small and smelled of packing material. Jt would go up

like a torch if anyone was careless with fire.

"What are they for?"

"I'll explain later. The two materials have to glass

mirror and half-inch-thick Lexan."

s eThe bulletproof material they use on m)pemobiles?"

"Exactly. The mirror will be closest to the hand and

handle; the Lexan laminated to it will face an attacker."

"It sounds as if we're going into battle for sure."

"Sounds like it. Get busy, okay? I'm going to start on

him when the other drug wears off. nat should be in ten to

fifteen minutes."

She was about to leave when he thought of an important

detail. "Do you have a tape recorder here?"

"A small boom box. It's not the best, but it records,"

she said, plugging in the tape player and inserting a fresh

tape. "Push PLAY and RECORD, same as with most of

them." Samantha blew him a kiss and was out the door.

When Quang started to moan and open his eyes, Carter

carefully put out his cigarette and tied one of the Oriental's

wrists. He brought the shipping cord around the table, and

fied the other wrist firmly. He did the same with the man's

ankles.

"Where.. What..

Ihe tables are reversed, Quang, old man," Caner whis-

rpred in his ear. He had pulled up a stool and sat close to

the man's head. He turned on the tape recorder.

Quang was small compared to Carter, but size wasn't

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the criteria. This wasn't a boxing match where the ke

word was "match." Quang had played the spy game bo

ends against the middle and this was payoff time. Cart

squeezed the syringe to release a few drops, then sought

vein on the inside of Quang's arm near his elbow. He in

serted the needle and gauged the dose to fit the man's bod

weight.

Quang didn't move but he narrowed his eyes and gl

at Carter with hatred. "What's in the syringe?"

"Don't give it a thought, old man," Carter said, imitat

ing Quang's British accent. "You'll be feeling drows

again, but this time you won't go to Sleep. Just a few ques

tions and I'm not using a rubber hose or fists. More hu

mane, don't you think?"

"You violated my home! My wife! What have you don

with my wife?" His voice was slurred, some of the words

little indistinct.

"She's sound asleep in her own bedroom. Don't worry,

Carter said. "Ihe one we have to worry about is Anhu

Cecil Chen. How did you meet him?"

*Ihe face of the man on the table contorted in a ment

fight to avoid answering, but to no avail. "I've know

Chen for a long time ... back when he was working th

streets."

"You had just finished school?"

"Yes I was a user... Chen's people supplied me."

"How long have you been working with him agains

Hue Yen?"

"Not long," the voice said in a flat whisper. "I've onl

been... close to the great Hue Yen... for three years

Chen approached me again at this time."

"l thought he was secluded."

"He had me taken. to a place.. where we coul

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communicate by video. He's become ... so fat he can't

move out... of his house," the small Chinese said, his an-

swers coming slowly, his will still trying to fight but with-

out success.

"I've seen the evidence in your house, Quang. You

planned to cross both sides, the Russians and Chen. You

planned to take over from Hue Yen yourself. How? Where

was your strength?"

"l have support... in Kuala Lumpur. People... you

don't know about. People Chen ... doesn't know about."

"But you can't be sure of that. Did you know that Chen

had most of his people carrying transmitters? They were

implanted under the skin."

"My G(Xi," the voice said languidly. The expression

seemed strange without the usual emphasis.

"He probably had your people infiltrated. Some prob-

ably had transmitter implants. He probably knows every

move you made and every plan you were cooking up

against him."

"It's not... possible."

"More than possible. Very probable. So the Russians

have been destroyed, but Chen's going to use you. You

can't defeat him. You're not the man he is. You know

that."

"He's an... an evil man."

"Explain. Tell me something I don't know."

'The House. A place called the House. He uses it to

tear... to tear people down. Interrogates them. Forces

them to his will."

"It's been destroyed. All the guards and prisoners have

been killed. Tell me something I don't know."

"All prisoners who survived... House... working as

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slaves. Those who died ... buried in special place that

grows ... every day."

He listened while Quang told him of the slave factories

throughout Malaysia run by Chen. While he had a photo-

graphic memory, he didn't to retain it all. He'd make

sure Samantha gave the tape to Chief Windsor. That was

his department.

"So Chen is a mass murderer."

"Life to... to Chen... is a quantity that can be...

bought and sold ... and terminated at... at his will."

"Where is Chen?" Carter asked, throwing the question

in unexpectedly.

"In his house."

"Which house? He had more than one."

"His house. Lives in the one on Telok Blangah Road

near Ginseng Essense Balm Park," Quang said, his voice

more distinct, less slurred, as if he'd subconsciously com

to a decision and was no longer afraid.

"You're sure of this?"

"Yes."

"The plans I took from your house are for this sam

' Ihey're all indentical."

"Anyone else in the house with him?"

"Just an old retainer. Been with Chen for many years.

Someone has to feed the fat slob, to bathe him, and mov

him around."

Carter sat for a moment thinking about what he'

learned. Quang went through a spasm. His face contorted.

"Have you ever had hean problems?" Carter asked,

urgency in his voice.

"Small attack five years ago. Hue Yen doesn't know. N

one knows."

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And they probably never will, Carter thought as the man

writhed on the table, his face contorted. Caner turned off

the tape recorder and watched for a moment while the

writhing stoprxxi and the face became serene in death. The

odds were against the small man from the start. He'd

played in a game he was ill prepared for and paid the su-

preme penalty. Another problem to hand over to Chief

Windsor.

He untied Quang and wrapped his body in black plastic

he found in the shipping room. He lit a cigarette and

waited for Samantha to retum. It was seven-thirty.

It was almost over. Or it was close to being over. Chen

was the monster he'd suspected all along. The man placed

no value on human life, and that had nothing to do with

size or aprrarance.

He felt a kind of catharsis. It happened to him before.

You are sent out to terminate a man, to solve a problem,

and no matter how many times you have done it before, it

eats at your guts. Unless. Unless you find that your target

is truly a man without regard for life. A man who will kill

untold hundreds if you don't stop him.

He dragged on the cigarette and thought about how he

was going to do it.


TWELVE

"You really threw me a curve with those shields, but

they'll be ready by noon," Samantha said as she returned,

somewhat out of breath. "Hey! Where's Quang?"

Carter pointed to the roll of black plastic. "Sometimes

the drug is too strong. He had a heart condition I didn't

know about."

She looked at him with dulled eyes for a moment as if

she was totally unaccustomed to death.

"I don't enjoy this," he told her, as if reading her

thoughts. "He was a stupid man but he was also an evil

one."

"What did you find out?"

"Chen is much worse than we he said as he

punched the eject button on the tape deck. "Chief Windsor

will have to dispose of Quang for us. And we'll give him

the tape. It seems that Chen has slave shops all over Ma-

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laysia. Quang also told me about a private burial ground

where Chen has planted a lot of evidence."

"What do you mean?"

"Anyone who was processed through the House and

lived was sent to the slave markets. Those who died were

buried," Carter said flatly.

She shuddered at the thought. "So what's next?" she

asked.

"I want to take Chen or destroy him before dark. We've

got a lot to do."

"What's first?"

"Call Chief Windsor. Ask him to come over. Tell him

it's urgent."

"Let me get this straight," Chief Windsor said, taking a

gulp from the Carter had poured for him. "You want

me to turn my back no matter what reports I get later in the

"We'll call you just before going in."

"We? Surely you're not involving Samantha in this."

"It's her territory. She's a professional. She wants to be

in on it."

They both looked at Samantha. She nodded. "lhere's

no way you can keep me out."

Chief Windsor shook his head, his expression grim,

"The tape," he said, changing the subject. "What did you

say is on it?"

"Quang toid me a lot about Chen's operation, The worst

part is kidnappings by the hundreds, orientation, and ulti-

mately slave labor in hundreds of factories around Malay.

sia. That was the function of the House. It was the starting

point on a chain of horror for thousands."

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