# Assignment: Intercept сканы с бумажной книги

Ник Картер

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CHAPTER ONE

shimmering blue water was crystal clear and I

could see the undulating white sand in the depths of

the thirty-foot lagoon. I was following another

swimmer, keeping my distance so it would look casual

if he happened to glance back I Watched a half dozen

yellow and white striped fish move lazily in and out

of a rock formation. Then a larger fish drew my atten-

åon, sleek and da771ing in the reflected light.

I turned to look at it—almost in time to catch the

knife blade that speared at my back.

I rolled, holding the last gulp of air from the

snorkel in my lungs as I writhed to evade the at-

tacker. IVhere the hell bad he come from? I managed

to grab his wrist but the knife had already sliced the

flesh of my upper arm; the water was turning pink

with my blood. I glimpsed a flash of dark eyes behind

the face mask as thousands of bubbles swirled be-

tween us.

It took both hands to break his grip, and I saw with

relief that the knife had fallen away, sinking to the

bottom of the lagoon. He reached to his belt and

snatched out a spare.

My lungs were bursting as he came toward me—a

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

lunging, black sea monster with wetsuit and air tanks.

A thick flurry of bubbles streamed out behind him as

he kicked his finned feet, frying to seize me in a

scissorlock and drag me down.

If he did, it was the end. Unless I surfaced soon,

this guy wouldn't have to use the knife. He knew my

breath was practically used up, and he was maneu-

vering so I was forced to swim deeper to clear the

slashing blades He was over me then, cutting off the

only survival route.

My chest was bursting with the need to breathe;

the blood was pounding in my head. It was all I

could do not to swim directly at him and take my

chances with the knife.

I swam hard, pulling myself through the water with

long strokes. I didn't have to look up. I could feel that

he was there—his shadow stayed right with me. He

was waiting for me to take my pick of dying either by

his Hife or by drovvning.

I exhaled what little air I had left very slowly,

measuring each release. I had to find his weak spot or

die.

I had only one chance. Twisting, I yanked the

diveFs knife from the sheath strapped to my leg and

pushed upward. It took him only a second to realize

what I was up to. That second was all I wanted. I

was far more mobile than he was, not being ham-

pered by those big tanks. I plunged the blade toward

his underbelly. It ripped through the rubber wetsuit,

but when I fried to jerk sideways to gut him like a fat

fish, he kicked at me and rolled away. nen he was

swimming hard, a widening trail of blood mingling

with mine in the churned water.

I streaked to the top, lungs on fire. Shoving the face

mask and snorkel aside, I gasped for air, raising my

face to the sun and breathing deeply as I tread water.

By the time I spotted his trail of bubbles, he was

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ASSiGNMENT: NTERCEPT

9

out of the lagoon and heading around the spit of sand

that separated the cove from deeper water where a

cruise ship was anchored.

I checked the water and what beach I could see,

but there was no sign of Tasler.

I swam for shore and dropped to the hot sand, still

breathing hard. The cut on my arm wasn't bad, deep

enough to bleed a lot but not anything that wouldn't

heal by itself. I pressed the wound tightly to slow the

flow of blood; no main blood vessels had been

severed and the bleeding was beginning to taper off.

"Good heavens! WThat happened to you?!"

She was slim and tall, tanned to a honey gold

where the tiny scraps of white bikini didn't cover

her—and maybe where they did. She'd come out of

the thicket of palms behind me, a snorkel tube, mask

and flippers dangling from her hand. She had a blue

beach bag slung over her shoulder; she dropped it to

the sand as she knelt beside me and pulled my

fingers away from the wound.

me look at it--" She was brushing at the red

smears, examining the cut with practiced fingers. "l?s

not deep," she said.

"Mmmm." I didn't want to disturb her.

She rummaged in the beach bag, pulled out a white

scarf and bound it around the cut, tying the ends

with just enough pressure to stop the flow of blood

without cutting the supply to my fingers. I grinned as

she lowered my arm and patted it.

'That should do it. It doesn't look like a coral cut.

How did you do it?'

met a sharp rock," said.

Her eyes _were obsidian in the bright sun, pupils

pinpointed. She didn't believe me, but she accepted

my answer. CYou shouldn't sudm alone—it can be dan-

gerous. Haven't you ever heard of the buddy system?"

I grinned again. "Yeah. I glanced at the gear

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NICK CARTER : KILLMASTER

she'd dropped beside me. "Looks like you're planning

a little snorkeling. We could practice what you

preach."

"Do you think you should be swimming with that

arm?'

"It feels better already. I was just getting interested

in the fish out there when the accident happened."

She looked across the blue water, squinting slightly

as the sun bounced white-hot rays from the sand. "All

right. I've heard so much about this lagoon I don't

want to miss a chance to try it."

She was on her feet, spitting into her mask and

wiping the glass. By the time I had my gear on, she

was twenty feet out, fins slapping the shallow water.

She turned as I caught up with her, smiling before

she fitted the mouthpiece in place and began to swim.

I followed her lazily, watching her long limbs flash

in the dappled blue. From time to time she motioned

and pointed to fish moving below us.

She was easy to follow, and I'd become expert at it.

After all, I'd been doing it for almost twenty-four

hours.

Sometimes Hawk comes up with assignments that

have pleasant angles—or in this case, curves. 'I"his was

one of them. Maria Fuente was an unexpected bonus

in the problem Hawk handed me three days ago.

rd been ready for some good old-fashioned R&R

after my last job which had led me half way around

the globe and had put me close to death more times

than I liked. But when David Hawk told me I was

going to Florida and the Caribbean, I knew it wasrft

a vacation he had in mind. Whenever he had me

brought to his Washington office, the job had to be

top priority and top secret.

He sat behind the gray metal desk drumming his

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

11

fingers on the polished top, something he rarely did.

He was usually as cool as steel and just about as soft.

His eyes were grim, staring at me as though he ex-

pected me to produce results even though he hadn't

presented the problem.

"You've heard about the new K-IV missile?'

I nodded. It was the Army/s latest ground force

weapon, an intercontinental ballistics missile operated

on a newly developed solid fuel which promised

longer range and greater accuracy than any of its pred-

ecessors. There had been some test shots at Cape

Kennedy, with the press excluded and no information

leaks, but the word was that none of the top brass

came out frowning The K-IV was a success, even

though it hadn't been announced publicly.

'There have been two test shots during the past

month," Hawk said. "Up until then every one has

been right on target, within ten feet of bull's eyes ac-

cording to the preset guidance controls. Three weeks

ago, the K-IV was scheduled for a final test before the

go-ahead on production. If it was as successful as all

the others, the Defense Department was ready to

order enough of them to insure the entire coastal de-

fense." Hawk tented his fingers and a tic appeared at

the corner of his mouth. "It was fourteen miles off tar-

get."

"Anyone can have a bad day," I said.

He wasn't amused. "Another launch was scheduled

and this time it was checked and double-checked to

make sure the automatic pilot and star scopes were in

perfect working order. Ground radar fracking showed

it was on the money after it passed the peak of its

arc. There was no reason it shouldn't come down right

on the button, and practically no way it couldn't once

it was in its final approach. But it veered off course

and hit a Russian cargo ship forty miles from the

target area. An impossibility but it happened."

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NICK CARTER : KILLMASTER

"Forty miles is a long miss," I said.

He nodded. 'The missile was unarmed but it

plowed a hole big enough to do considerable damage

to the ship. The Russians began making noises like it

wasn't an accident."

else?"

"Our men at the Cape say it was taken over by

some outside source." He leaned forward. "Three days

ago an unarmed Russian missile hit a Navy Corvette

a hundred miles off the Dominican Republic. The

Reds are feeding us back our own story—an accident

they can't explain."

"Do the top brass think it's a retaliation measurer

He shook his head. "Not when it gives us a look at

what they've been up to in the missile race. The Rus-

sians are pretty damned upset about us even knowing

they've got the particular little number that hit our

ship. It's one of their newest, and it was a top-secret

project. This was only the second launch. According

to our recovery squad, who've been going over what's

left of it, it's pretty impressive."

He paused. "Someone's found a way to detect and

redirect missiles after they're in the air. It could be

the start of World War III if someone decides to put

a warhead on one of them."

He looked at me. "Itie Man himself asked for you

on this one, Nick."

VVhen The Man asks for Killmaster N3 on the job,

it means the hot line is already buzzing. And it means

that Hawk has culled every scrap of information

available and is ready to hand me the package.

"When the first missile went off course, one of the

rocket scientists down at the Cape, a man named

Harvey Tasler, proposed the theory that an electronic

interceptor knocked out the preset system and took

over with command guidance. Tasler has been work-

ing on such a device himself, but he was pulled off

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

13

for top-priority research in solid fuel—his specialty.

He developed the present K-IV fuel and has been

working on a new one that should triple our missile

range."

"Has been?'

"There have been complications," Hawk explained.

"Tasler had a minor heart attack a couple of weeks

ago. He spent ten days in the hospital but the doctors

say there's no permanent- damage. He should be as

good as new, but Tasler says he can't remember

things or hold onto ideas. He's applied for extended

sick leave."

"That doesn't sound too far out of line. People

recover at varying rates. Some need more time than

others."

"Tasler is faking—the doctors are sure of it. Every

medical test shows he's okay. His encephalograms

show absolutely no change since the attack. He

doesn't want to go back to work on the project and he

doesn't want to talk about it. He's holding back some-

thing important."

Hawk filled me in on the details of Taslex*s personal

life: ffty-three, five-ten, hair graying; widowed, one

daughter living in Paris since she'd finished school; a

moderate social drinker and had no known involve-

ments with gambling or drugs. Tasler had top-priority

clearance and had always minded his owm business;

he was on good terrns with his fellow workers at the

Cape and belonged to several professional associa-

tions. He'd been in his present job for eight years,

with two promotions, earned a comfortable $35,000 a

year. He usually combined his vacation with trips to

various scientific conventions or went to Paris to visit

his daughter. If he had an active sex life, he was

discreet about it; there were no permanent women in

his life. He lived alone in a two bedroom house in a

middle-class neighborhood of Cocoa Beach. A

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xrcr CARTER : KILLMASTER

middle-aged woman with a family of four kept house

for him, sleeping out and tending to cleaning, market-

ing, cooking and other household chores between the

hours of one and nine P.M. Tasler fixed his own

breakfast, drove to work in a three-year-old Buick

Electra: He'd been fully covered on hospitalization

and had no outstanding debts.

I was on a plane to Cocoa Beach within the hour

with photos of Tasler's house and arrived in time to

see him grab a cab for the airport. I followed him and

an hour later we were both aboard a commercial jet

on the way to Cozumel, a resort island off the coast of

Yucatan. I sat five rows behind him.

Tasler took a cab from the airport and checked into

the El Castillo Hotel, one of the posh new structures

that dotted the white sandy beach. He settled down

like a man vacationing for his health, staying to

himself and spending most of his time on the beach

or in the water.

Except for the girl.

I saw her lying in the sun; she was the kind you

don't miss easily. I spotted the fact that she was

watching Tasler almost as soon as I noticed the full

high curve of her breasts which were barely covered

by the pink bikini bra. She was good at it, but I was

better. From then on I kept both of them under sur-

veillance.

She approached him late in the afternoon. Tasler

had never seen her before, I was sure of it. She

spread a towel and stretched out beside him, talking

in a low voice until Tasler nodded. She'd sold him a

pitch, and from the look on his face it wasn't a ro-

mantic one.

She stuck with him from then on. he swam,

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INTERCEPT

15

she swam. Vtmen he went into the bar, she did. And

when he went to his room, she went with him.

In spite of my priority clearance, I didn't throw any

weight around to get a room next to Taslefs. Maybe I

should have. It might have prevented the gash in my

arm if rd known they were wise to me.

The morning of my attack, the two of them signed

up for the all-day "Robinson Crusoe" cruise. The boat

was one of those charter jobs the hotels along the

beach provide for guests a couple of times a week

The pilot, an old man with leathery skin and few

teeth, handled the boat while two young Mexicans

dived for conch, speared grouper and abalone, and

caught lobster for a shore lunch.

Tasler and Maria Fuente stayed on the upper deck

the entire trip out, lotioned •and soaking up sun. I

stayed on the lower deck in the shade with a hat

pulled over my eyes. If anyone else on the boat knew

the pair, they made no contact.

we anchored five hundred yards off the reef

that formed the cove, I came ashore in the same skiff

with Tasler and the girl. And when Tasler set out

alone to snorkel in the lagoon, I followed.

nere hadn't been any sign of our being watched,

and rd let myself be lulled into thinking I had no one

to worry about but Tasler and the girl. I hadn't

figured there might be other cruise ships along the

coast. Had Maria Fuente spotted me watching her

and tipped someone to follow me? Or had I been

recognized as r came off the plane? If someone was

watching Tasler, I could have been spotted. nere

sure as hell was some good reason for Tasler coming

to Cozumel—and if it had the implications Hawk

-thought it did, I was fighting blind against an enemy

who might have me pegged right from the start. I'd

handled enough dangerous missions for AXE around

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NICK CARTER : KILI„MASTER

the world that my face and description were a regular

part of survival training for enemy agents.

I wouldn't make the same mistake again.

Now Tasler was gone, and the guy in the scuba

gear was gone too. There was just me and the girl.

We paddled around for twenty minutes or so be-

fore she pulled up her face mask and said, "I think

we should be getting back. It must be lunch time."

We turned toward shore. There was still no sign of

Tasler.

I paused in shallow water to pull off my fins. She

was already on the beach, her gear tossed on the sand

as she toweled herself. I couldn't be sure if the excel-

lent display of her figure was expressly for my benefit

or if it was the unconscious posing of a woman who

knows she's beautiful. Either way, I gave it the atten-

tion it deserved.

"Didn't I see you at the hotel yesterday?' she said

as we made our way back through the palm grove to

the huts where the two boat boys and a wizened old

man in cut-off whites and an undershirt were putting

the finishing touches on lunch. aroma of sauteed

fish wafted on the hot breeze.

"I came on the noon plane."

"Your first trip to Cozumel?'

"Yes." It wasn't exactly the truth but I wanted to

see how far she'd play the innocent game. I looked

around where the rest of the cruise party were scat-

tered in small groups, waiting for the call to lunch

under the thatched roofs shading long tables and

benches. There was a second cruise ship anchored a

few hundred yards from ours. That gave Kvo places

the guy who'd come at me in the lagoon might have

come from—and gone to.

Maria was looking about as though in search of

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

17

;omeone. 'What happened to the guy you were

with?' I asked.

She tried to look innocent. "I'm alone."

"You were sitting with him all the way out—I

thought you were together."

"011, you mean Harvey Tasler." She shook her

letting glossy black hair fall around her shoul-

liers. It gleamed as though it had never been drenched

n sea water.

"Is that his name?"

She nodded, half smiling. "I just met him yesterday

-nd we found ourselves together on the cruise todays

lardly what you'd callbeing together." She gave me

look that said I was much more interesting

20mpany.

I dropped my diving gear beside her. "In that case,

will you have dinner with me tonight?'

Her dark eyes went wide. "I'd love to. At the ho-

I shook my bead. "I was thinking of San Miguel I

it's picturesque and quiet and has several good

-estaurants. And it will give us a chance to see some

f the island."

"All right."

ne lunch was delicious; cooked fish and a cold

X)nch-and-lobster salad sprinkled with lemon juice

Ind seasonings, a green salad, bread, fresh fruit and

old beer brought from the hotel in huge coolers. Vd

worked up quite an appetite. We ate sitting at one of

long tables with the laughing and chattering tour-

sts who'd come on the two boats. Harvey Tasler

vasn't among them.

He didn't turn up until the beach boys had the gear

acked and the dinghies were heading back to the

-yuise ships. Tasler walked out of a thicket of low

;hrubs and bent palms as though he'd sauntered off

•or just a minute—except that his face was pale and

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NICK CARTER : KILLMASTER

there was a new tightness around his deep-set eyes

He nodded at Maria but didn't come to claim her. H

ignored the skiff we were in and waited for the nex

one.

YVhen we reached the hotel, Maria took my arm a.

we walked along the pier. It was as if her job

Tasler was over—and I was her new assignment.

After I'd seen her to her room, I went downsta•

and picked up the package rd left in the hotel safe.

In my room, I unwrapped Wilhelmina, Hugo an

Pierre. Dressed in swimming gear it had been im

possible for me to take them along, and I didn't wan

to take any chances on their being lifted in my ab

sence.

I looked around the room critically. It had been

searched. Nothing was out of place more than a frac-

tion of an inch, but too many things had been moved

to chalk it up to a curious maid. I went over the room

thoroughly. Nothing was missing and nothing had

been added.

As soon as I showered and dressed, I fastened the

leather sheath for the stiletto to my arm where I

could drop it at the flick of my wrist, strapped the

Luger under my arm, and taped Pierre, the miniature

gas bomb to the upper part of my thigh. I'd walked

into a trap this afternoon. I wouldn't do it again.

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CHAPTER TWO

I knocked on Maria's door ten minutes before the

me we'd agreed on. She answered wrapped in a

jwel, beads of water still clinging to her tawny flesh.

ler eyes were amused.

"You're early... e" She stepped back and closed the

Dor. She was smiling as she leaned against it and

)0ked at me. A moment later she released the towel

nd let it slither to the floor.

'Qunctuality is a virtue," I said, letting my gaze

-ace in the full golden ripeness of her naked body.

he, looked even taller without the bikini, and I'd

een right about the tan not stopping. She was a

ronze goddess.

The jalousied windows had been slanted to keep

ut the light but let in the air. Cool shadows moved

ver her slim body and dark hair as she stepped

ward me, an invitation in every ripple of motion.

'hen she was in my arms, her damp body warm and

ard against me. Her lips parted and a tip of pink

lingue welcomed my kiss.

«I knew it would be this way," she said when she fi-

ally pulled her mouth free. '€1 knew it the moment I

you on the beach...

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NICK CARTER : KILLMASTER

thought you were Florence Nightingale." M

hands were exploring the smooth back and the gentli

swell of her buttocks. She urged her body against m

again, coaxing.

She disentangled herself and turned to the night

stand. She shook two cigarettes from a pack and pu

them to her lips while she clicked a small gold lighte

to them. Smiling, she handed one to. me and laid bac

on the bed, legs slightly raised to tantalize me witl

the view. I inhaled smoke and began to undress.

She-lay with eyes half-closed, moving her hips fron

time to time to remind me that she was waiting.

managed to slide off my shoulder holster with th

seersucker coat and drop both to a chair. Hugo anc

Pierre were a bit more of a problem. I sat on the edgi

of the bed and began to caress Maria. We smoked ir

silence as I cupped one of the lovely firm breasts anc

circled the dark nipple with my fingers. She inhaled

smoke and let it out slowly as she groped for th

ashtray on the nightstand. Her eyes closed as I let my

hand move down the creamy flesh to her thighs. She

moaned softly and let her knees fall apart. I had

last drag on the cigarette and tossed it into the tray.

I bent and kissed her along a sensuous path, keep-

ing her distracted as I unfastened the leather sheath

and slipped Hugo to the floor. I dislodged Pierre and

lay it beside the stiletto. Seconds later I dropped my

shirt over them and then Maria was holding out her

arms for me.

"Nick.

She arched her back, thrusting toward me, circling

my neck with her arms and pulling me down.

"Nick

don't make me wait—"

Her slender legs scissored around me and drew me.

to her. Her breath exploded in warm bursts against

my face. I covered her eager mouth as her toncue

darted and probed. 'Her. breasts were taut and de-

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

21

manding, and I felt her body quiver with excitement

and need. She moaned and dug her fingernails into my

back as she lifted her hips to offer herself.

I moved against her, entering her slowly and

watching the obsidian eyes glow like hot coals. She

was breathing through her mouth, gasping as I

completed the union and began moving in her.

"Oh, yes..

Then we were in perfect harmony. Her body

arched and fell with mine, accepting and giving. I

watched the rapt expression on her face, saw the

sliver of pink tongue darting behind perfect teeth. My

excitement began to match hers as she rubbed my

body blindly, touching and seeking additional pleasure

while she writhed under me.

Her breath exploded in an agonized cry and she

flung her hands against the bed and clawed at it.

Yes—oh god—yes—

The pressure inside my head became a drum roll.

Her face blurred as she h8Hsted her head and the dark

)air whipped about. My body was caught in a huge

wave of heat and need, a wave that was sucking me

nto the depths from which I could not escape. I tried

think, tried to focus my mind on the physical ac-

ion of my body, knowing that I was experienOing

omething that was not the result of sexual desire

Ilone. I'd been with enough women to know the

lighs and lows of my own passion.

I couldn't control anything in the seconds of blind

-txplosion that followed. I was scarcely aware of

aria's face under mine, the dark eyes watchful and

ntent.

Something clicked deep inside my brain, some in-

tinct warned me that I had been drugged enough to

lull my senses and put me out of touch with reality.

7röm the corner of my vision, I saw a flash of steel as

ler hand moved suddenly.

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

I fell against her and rolled sideways, pressing my

weight on the arm with the knife and pinning it to

the bed so she couldn't plunge the blade at my back.

She swore softly, teeth bared as her lips pulled

back and she struggled to reach for the knife with her

other hand. I felt the tip Of the 'blade scrape my

shoulder as she called out.

"José!"

I heard the door open and someone enter. The in-

fruder was trying hard to walk silently, and his cau-

tion gave me the few extra seconds I needed to put

my brain in gear. I sucked air into my lungs to rid

them of whatever she'd put in that cigarette.

I shoved away blindly and rolled to the floor. With-

out breaking the momentum, I was under the bed and

scrambling for Hugo and Pierre where I'd pushed

them out of sight. The mattress squealed and

bounced as Maria jumped up.

"Get him!" she whispered furiously. Her bare feet

moved away from the bed in a rush.

There wasn't much space under the spring, but I

lay flat and moved as close to the edge as I dared. I

could see feet, bare in open sandals with a toe strap,

his skin dark against the white pants. He was less

than a yard from me. I held my breath and waited,

the stiletto in my grip.

He moved softly, easing closer so be could peer un-

der the bed and locate me. The ugly snout of a pistol

that had been fitted with a silencer came into view

before his face did.

I scuttled sideways to get my throwing arm clear of

the bed, balancing Hugo and sending it on its deadly

mission in one quick movement that left no room for

error. The guy's eyes went wide and his finger

tightened on the trigger.

But Hugo was already quivering in his throat,

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

23

coated with a bubbling rush of blood. He gurgled and

fried to grab the stiletto. His finger jerked on the

h•igger of the gun in a last reflex action before he

died.

The slug smacked the mattress above me. I jerked

myself out from under the bed. I'd heard no sound

from the girl; she could still have the knife or even a

gun. I crawled toward the chair where my coat and

gun were. I reached up, pulling them to the floor

without raising my head.

The soft sound of waves along the beach was de-

eeptively peaceful as I pressed to the floor and looked

around. There was no sign of Maria in the room.

The bathroom door was closed. Swearing, I

scrambled up and ran to it. Locked. I stepped back

and heaved my shoulder against it. The lock gave on

the third try but the room was empty, the window

and screen open.

The window looked over the curving drive of the

hotel. I leaned out, staring down. A row of rental cars

and motor scooters were lined along the blacktop, but

a small red Volkswagen was churning up a cloud of

gunpowder gray dust as it raced out of the drive and

careened onto the highway, gaining speed. I had a

glimpse of the license plate and Maria's dark hair

streaming in the 'vvind as the car seemed to lean on

two wheels, then righted itself. It was out of sight in

a matter of seconds.

r went back to the dead man and rolled him over

with my foot. He was short and dark, with almond

eyes, sightless and staring. He wore a flowered sport

shirt and wrinkled white pants; his hand still clawed

at his throat where he'd tried to pull out Hugo.

Wiping Hugo on the blood-soaked shirt, I returned

it to the sheath on my arm. I left the .38 where it had

fallen, dressed myself and slipped out of the room.

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

The -car Vd rented was waiting for me and within

minutes I was in it and heading for San Miguel.

Maria and I had some unfinished business.

ne red VW wasn't anywhere along the main drag.

San Miguel was one of those sleepy little picture-post-

card tovms, with old-fashioned streetlights and a wide

boulevard of stately palms down the center of the

avenue. Lights were on in stores and eager vendors

lured tourists into shops.

'Ihe tourists were easy to spot in their pseudo-Yu-

Catecan garb and sunburned faces. 'Ille women wore

stark white huipiles edged with bright embroidery

and showed tanned thighs instead of the long lace

petticoats the native women wore. Men in walking

shorts, guayabera shirts, and wide straw hats, with

cameras slung about their necks, were everywhere.

At the end of town I made a quick u-turn and

started back to explore the side streets. They were

silent and unpopulated; an occasional spill of light

showed a parked car, or a brief snatch of music

drifted from open doorways and windows. I didlft

spot the VW anywhere.

L headed back toward the bay. The silhouettes of

dozens of fishing boats were outlined against the fad-

ing sunset. Streaks of deep gray already marked the

horizon and it would soon be dark.

I parked the car and looked along the dock. fiere

was quiet activity as fishermen worked with nets and

lines, readying their craft for the following day. There

was a parking area to one side of the pier, and I

could make out the dim shapes of several cars. A

couple of them had the familiar silhouette of the VW

bug, which the rental agencies on the island seemed

to favor.

I parked and slid into the shadows, following the

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

25

curve of the waterfront. I found her car between an

ancient Ford and a dune buggy near the dock. She

wouldn't have left it here unless she was headed for

the pier.

There was no surf on this side of the island since it

faced the mainland. Gentle waves slapped the pier

pilings and whispered on the sand. I crammed my

hands in my pockets and walked out onto the dock

trying to look like an inquisitive tourist. I studied ev-

ery boat that showed lights or signs of life. I stopped

and spoke to a man lifdng a heavy net.

"I'm looking for my wife—tall, long dark hair—have

you seen her?'

He grinned showing a flash of white teeth. "Si, a

few minutes ago." He pointed toward the end of the

dock

"Gracias." I sauntered on, glancing back, but he

was already carting the net shoreward without giving

me a second look.

The boat at the end of the pier was no different

from the rest but my senses prickled as I heard the

low sound of voices. A light was on in the cabin and

someone walked past a window.

My light-colored coat made me an easy target for

anyone watching, but there was no time to worry

about that now. I crouched, covering the last dozen

feet of dock, and stopped to glance around. The fish-

ing boat was riding the swells a couple of feet from

the padded pilings, moving gently up and down, tied

fore and aft. I waited until the boat rode up on a

wave, then jumped down into it silently.

I was in the stern, amid coiled ropes and wadded

nets that smelled of fish and the sea. Untangling my-

self, I crawled toward the cabin, watching the pier at

my right for any signs of movement. The waves were

slapping the hull, and now and again the boat rolled

against the pilings with deep groans and sounds like

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NICK CARTER : KILT-MASTER

wood splitting. But over this I could hear voices—and

I recognized one of them. Maria was on board.

She sounded angry. 'Tle'll be here, stop worrying! I

told you it couldn't be helped. I had to come on first."

Her voice receded and came stronger, as if she were

pacing back and forth.

I crept close and pressed to the wood just beside

the large square window. I could hear every inflec-

tion. The man's voice answering Maria was gruff and

angry. "Suppose Carter follows him? You were a fool

to leave him alive!"

did you expect me to do?' She spat the

words.

'Ihe man growled and something hit wood; ap-

parently he'd thrown something to vent his anger. I

lifted my head and chanced a glance into the cabin.

The man's back was to me, but Maria was pacing,

smoking furiously and glowering.

The sound of a car engine at the far end of the

dock made me look back. A man in dark slacks and a

sport shirt was climbing from a cab, his face lighted

for an instant as the driver made change.

It was Harvey Tasler.

He came along the dock, glancing back to see if

anyone was following him. He was alone and keeping

an appoinhnent with Maria and her friends Of his

own volition. Interesting ... and puzzling.

The others had heard the car, and two figures ap-

peared on deck. I ducked low as one of them turned

on a flashlight and motioned to the other to put up

the ladder.

Tasler hesitated until a thick-set man came up and

grabbed his hand. He climbed aboard, looking pale

and shaky. fie two hustled him into the cabin. I

moved back to the window.

Maria was sitting in a low chair, her golden legs

exposed well past the knees; the cleavage of those

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

27

beautiful breasts dark at the low neckline of the white

dress. She was leaning back, breasts taut against the

cloth, fingers combing through her dark hair, her

other hand holding a drink.

Tm glad to see you've kept your word, Dr. Tasler,»

she said, smiling.

"Do I have a choice? You will take me to my

daughter?'

So that was it. They d grabbed Taslds daughter

and were using her to force him into what they

wanted. was—what? Hawk's report said that

the first K-IV had already gone astray when Tasler

proposed his idea of the remote interceptor and guid-

er. If someone else already had the instrument de-

veloped, why the hell did they need Tasler? Mythy

force him to run out on his iob at the Cape and come

here? Had the kidnapping of his daughter anything to

do with Tasler's heart attack? According to the Army

hospital, the attack had been genuine. Only the lack

of recovery had been faked.

It was very interesting.

Maria motioned to the two men and they left the

cabin. That made three men altogether—the one still

inside with Maria and Tasler, the two who'd just

come onto the deck on the opposite side of the cabin

structure. I eased to a corner and looked around. The

thick-set man was muscling the fore line from the

piling. Almost at once the engine throbbed to life. I

ducked as the other man hurried into the stern and

heaved off the line. We were moving.

By rights I should have been invisible, only inches

from the deck and immobile. The man waited at the

stem for several minutes, then turned back toward

the cabin. As the boat. moved out from the deep

shadow of the pier, the pale tropical moon washed

over us. The man paused, stared, then growled; he'd

seen me, and with no hesitation at all, he charged.

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

He was on me like a raging bull, grunting and

flailing his thick arms as he slammed me into the

cabin wall. I kicked out, aiming for his groin, and

heard his roar of shock and pain as my foot found its

target. I cut at his neck with the edge of my hand

and kicked again. He sprawled along the cluttered

deck with a moan.

He had the gun out before he came to a stop. I saw

the glint of shiny metal and caught up the first thing

my hand touched—a small bucket. I threw it at him as

he fired and rolled wildly. The bucket hit and clanged

against the hatch cover as he scuttled crab-like be:

hind it.

Feet pounded the deck behind me and I whirled,

Wilhelmina in hand. Two slugs came at me from op-

posite directions, spitting into the wood and shower-

ing me with splinters. I ducked and slipped sideways,

then quickly jerked in the other direction before ei-

ther of them could get a fix on me. I didn't wait for

them to zero in again. I got off three quick shots as

something slammed my shoulder and spun me half-

way around. I sent two more shots into the darkness,

then without waiting for them to fry again, I dived

over the rail.

I felt the warm water drag at my coat and shoes as

r pulled for the depths. Several slugs sliced too close

for comfort as the white propeller-churned water

came close. If I didn't get out of range, it would slice

me up neater than a turkey on Thanksgiving.

I shoved Wilhelmina back into the holster and jack-

knifed downward as the propeller passed over me.

For a few seconds I was caught in its tow, struggling

against the swirling pull of the blades. The two gun-

men would be watching forlme from the deck, ready

to blow my head off the instant it came to the sur-

face. My only chance was to come up in the white

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ASSIGNMENT: D{TERCEPT

29

water and get enough air to keep me until the boat

moved on and I was out of range.

I came up in a boiling cauldron of bubbles. I

blinked my eyes clear and saw the two leaning over

the rail searching for me. They had a powerful flash

and its beam was directed off to my left. I gulped air

and submerged as one of them raised a small caliber

rifle and began quick-firing into the water.

As I went down, a rope dragged across my arm.

A dinghy! They were towing a skiffl

The small boat moved over me, only inches above

my head. I came up fast at its stern and grabbed a

gunwale. I hung on, staying close, letting the boat

pull me through the water. I couldn't see the two on

deck, but I heard their voices. They must have been

trying to decide if they'd killed me or not. The

shooting had stopped.

The fishing boat put on speed and settled down to

a straight course.

I stayed where I was for fifteen minutes, until there

was no movement at all on the deck of the boat. My

arms were numb from being in one position so long

and bracing against the hard pull of the water. Wea-

rily, I hoisted myself up and over the gunwale and

flopped to the bottom of the dinghy.

Some minutes later I found a tarp folded in the

stern and pulled it over me. Even if they used the

flashlight again, they wouldn't spot me now. I relaxed

and examined my shoulder. The bullet had hit

Wilhelmina's thick leather holster and not even

grazed my flesh. I sat back to enjoy the ride.

And wondered where the hell we were headed.

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CHAPTER THREE

The steady throb of the boat engine and the rock-

ing dinghy almost lulled me to sleep as we chugged

south. I watched the lights of the hotels wink out of

sight; we were past the island, out of the channel. For

the most part, the shoreline of the mainland was dark.

There wasn't much along the coast except jungle. I'd

heard that some new hotels had been built near Playa

del Carmen and eventually I spotted them. Then they

were behind us, too.

The fishing boat began angling toward shore as

soon as the darkness of the jungle closed in again. I

sat up and folded the tarp. If we came to a stop, I

wanted to be over the side before someone needed

the dinghy.

I almost missed the soft blur of light on the shore.

It moved slowly, swinging in a short arc. A signal?

"Ihe boat was heading right for it.

I peered through the darkness trying to see if there

was a dock or if the boat would anchor offshore, but

it was impossible to tell. The engines slowed and

there was a flurry of activity on deck. Someone had

come out of the cabin and walked toward the bow.

Minutes later, the engine died and the last sounds

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31

faded to silence. I was over the side and letting myself

into the water as the deck lights came on. Someone

with an electric torch came to the stern and began

pulling the dinghy rope. I slipped under the surface

and swam into the darkness until I had to come up

for air.

The boat was a hundred yards behind me, parallel

with shore. By the deck light and bobbing flash, I

watched Maria, Tasler and two other men climb

down into the small boat and cast off. ne man left

on deck had his arm in a makeshift sling, a fresh ban-

dage at his shoulder. One of Wilhelmina's slugs had

found a target.

As the dinghy pulled for shore, I began to swim. I

stayed past the range of the flashlight just in case

anyone took a notion to look around. rne dinghy beat

me in by two hundred yards.

I rode the waves, treading water, and watched the

four climb out to a small pier where a man with a

lantern waited. I heard the murmur of voices but

couldn't make out words. Tasler hunched forward,

obviously worried and nervous. He turned to say some-

thing to Maria Fuente and she answered with an im-

patient gesture. Then the man with the lantern led

them toward the jungle. Moments later they 'were

out of sight, the lantern's gleam blocked by the thick

vegetation walling the shoreline. I started swimming

again, using an easy side stroke that gave no telltale

splash. Behind me, the fishing boat started up, turned

and headed north.

When I reached the beach, I sat on the sand to

catch my breath and wring some of the water out Of

my clothes. My shoes were soggy and leaden, but I

hadn't dared kick them off. I had no hankering to try

the jungle landscape barefooted. I removed each shoe

and poured out water, then rubbed the inside as dry

could with the end of my coattail.

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NICK CARTER KII.LMASTER

The sound of the boat faded in the distance, and

the jungle was still. I picked my way along the nar-

row strip of sand in search of the trail the others had

taken. I missed it on the first try and backtracked, al-

most crawling so I could find the break in the thick

shrubbery.

When I did, it was barely a path. Only the broken

and branches showed that feet had trampled

them. I turned onto it, every step sounding like a

thrashing bull in the thicket. It was impossible to

move silently in the dark. I paused every few mo-

ments and listened but heard nothing to indicate the

direction Tasler and the others had taken.

I saw a light and stopped. nere was a clearing

ahead—a small village, maybe. I scanned the area

quickly but couldn't spot any guard. Of course, if

Maria and the others believed me dead, they would

consider themselves safe. They had been expected

here, which meant well laid plans. I wished to hell I

hew more about what was going on.

I crouched in the brush and studied the set up. The

village consisted of about eight huts, oval-shaped of

upright branches and thatch-roofed in the traditional

Mayan style. None had windows, only two door-like

openings opposite each other in the centers of the

long walls. My eyes had grown accustomed to the

night, and I saw that most of the huts were dark. Two

showed lights, and one of these winked out as I

watched it. The other hut seemed the largest of the

group, maybe some twenty-five feet in length and ten

or twelve feet across. An occasional shadow moved

across the lantern's glow but I still couldn't hear

voices.

The hut was about thirty feet from me, across' a

clear stretch of ground that had to be visible from at

least four of the other houses. I heard a low rustle of

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ound—a dog was outlined against the lighted

loorway for a moment then vanished in the shadows.

Damn! The animal might give me away even if no

saw me. I was still trying to figure out what to do

When a new sound exploded the silence.

I was on my feet and running—skirång the paths of

light from the hut and circling around it in search of

the road that had to be beyond. The heavy cough of

a tuck or jeep engine settled to a steady roar and

wheels spun against dirt. I got only a glimpse of

taillights and four figures in the open . jeep as I

crashed out onto the road.

Behind me, the dog growled close. I couldn't see

the animal but I could hear him charging toward me.'

The glimpse rd had of him showed he was big

enough to cause me trouble if he was in an angry

mood—and if the snarls meant anything, it was that.

I had Wilhelmina ready as I crouched and waited.

The animal had the advantage of knowing where I

was—but I didn't have to wait longe It leaped at me

with a flash of white teeth in the darkness. I jerked

up, lifting my knee in a swift cutting motion and

caught the dog in mid air. It fell back, stumbling and

thrashing to regain its feet. I slammed the gun butt at

its head and heard the crush of metal against bone.

animal was still.

From the lighted clearing, someone yelled in a

mixture of Spanish and Mayan dialect. He repeated a

name several times, obviously calling the dog that lay

still at my feet. Then the lantern winked through the

trees as he came in search of it.

I made myself invisible behind a clump of tangled

brush and let him pass me. I leaped and grabbed him

in a single motion, cutting off his startled cry by

clamping my hand over his mouth and shoving the

barrel of my Luger to his temple. His dark eyes went

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MCK CARTER : KILLMASTER

wide as he saw the gun in the glow of the lantern he

was carrying.

H? was a slight man, with a bony face over which

his dark skin was drawn like dried leather. His black

hair was shot with gray at the temples and his eyes

were frightened.

"Just be quiet and you won't get hurt," I told him

softly.

He couldn't nod, but I saw he understood. His eyes

searched my face and the darkness around us. I

touched Wilhelmina's business end to his neck.

did they go?'

I lifted my hand enough to let him answer.

sefior?"

I scraped the gunsight along his chin. "The woman

and the three men who just rode out of here in a

jeep."

He tried to shake his head and I pulled his frail

body back. He knew damned well I could snap him

in two, and he decided to cooperate.

do not know, sefior. I swear I do not know."

"You knew the jeep was here?' M/hen he nodded, I

said, "M7here did it come from?"

He looked even more frightened. His lips worked a

moment but no sound came out. I squeezed his throat

with my arm until his feet almost left the ground.

"Aaaaagghh..

"Where did it come from?'

"My son—Roberto—"

I' felt the movement without hearing the sound. A

figure came at me from the darkness, grabbing for my

gun and slicing at my neck with a heavy hand. It was

as though the old man had conjured him up by call-

ing his name. I had no doubt that this was the son

who'd arranged to help Maria and her friends.

He was a raging bear; matching my weight and

strength even though he was several inches shorter.

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ae was lean and strong, in top condition. Living in

lhe rugged jungle all his life had prepared him for

my battle.

He Hocked Wilhelmina from my hand with his

first blow. I heard the heavy gun hit the brush but

there was no time to look for it. I was too busy fight-

ing off the steady hail of blows he aimed at my body

and head. We were like two shadowboxers in the pale

glow of the lantern the old man was still holding.

He lunged at me and I caught him with a sharp

punch in the chest. air went out of him and he

Fell back, momentarily stunned. I moved in to hold

my advantage—but not fast enough. rd forgotten

about the old man. I saw only a glimmer of light on

qteel as the old man held out a machete-like knife to

his son. The younger man's arm went up in instant re-

flex, swooping the' knife into his hand and preparing

to bring its heavy blade .down to cleave my skull in

the same circle of motion.

I dropped my arm, flicking my wrist to bring Hugo

into my palm. The stiletto flew through the air as I

leaped out of the machete's path. Hugo speared into

Roberto's chest like a quivering arrow as the machete

hizzed by me too close for comfort. Ille man

stumbled forward and thudded to the ground.

The old man muttered something I didn't under-

but he didn't move. Chest heaving, I picked up

he machete and slipped it into my belt, then pulled

Hugo from the younger man's chest and wiped the

)lood on what had been his spotless white shirt.

Roberto's eyes were full of pain and question as he

watched me.

T knelt over him, Hugo's blade gleaming again.

rNow, why don't you tellme where those four went

in the jeep?"

His eyes flicked toward the old man then back at

•ne The old man took a tentative step closer but

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NICK CARTER: KTLLMASTER

stopped when I spotted Wilhelmina's ugly snout un-

der a bush and grabbed for it. I held it in my left

hand, Hugo in my right.

"Tell him what he asks. The old man's voice

was a pained whisper as he watched the oozing blood

on his son's shirtfront.

I put the stiletto tip to Roberto's throat, pushing

just hard enough to let him know I meant business.

His eyes filled with hatred but he didn't move. I saw

a tiny trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth and

knew that Hugo had punctured his lung. There was

no fight left in him, only defiance. I nicked his throat

with the blade.

"Roberto--" the old man pleaded.

I was convinced then that if the old man knew

what I wanted to know, he'd have told me then and

there. He didn't figure any gringo secret was worth

dying for.

A murmur of activity and voices stirred the tiny

village and lights came on. I glanced at them and at

the old man. Teople will get hurt if he doesn't tell

In a flood of rapid dialect, the old man called out

to the unseen villagers, then turned back to his son.

"Tell him before it is too' late."

The man on the ground seemed to understand that

his life wasn't the only one that depended on my •get-

ting what I wanted.

"Casa del Balam... i" His voice had a gurgly sound

as the blood filled his mouth. He coughed, rolling his

bead sideways to let the blood drain so he could

breathe.

I got up and faced the old man. is it?"

"South, maybe twenty miles in the jungle. It is

madness to try to find it alone—"

Tou can guide me."

He shook his head quickly. "I have never seen it. It

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•s sacred territory. Everyone in the village has heard

Df the people who dig at the temple but none of us

been there." He glanced at the still figure at our

(eet.

In the dim lantern light, I could see the doubt in

his eyes as he stared at his son. If Roberto had never

been to Casa del Balam, he at least knew who had—

and he'd made it possible for Maria Fuente and her

buddies to take Dr. Tasler there.

I bent to question Roberto but it was too late. His

eyes, open and staring, went blank and he was dead.

To the old man, I said, "Where is the nearest tele-

phone?'

He looked confused for a moment. 'We have no

telephones here. Perhaps at Tulum . .

many

norteamericanos. ..

"How far is it?'

He shrugged slightly, his brow furrowed. "Ten

kilometers." He didn't sound too sure.

"Is there a car, another jeep?'

He shook his head then glanced at his sonis body.

"Roberto has a motorbike and there is a donkey...

'The motorbike—where is it?'

He looked up, sighing and pointing to a dark recess

in the thick brush. 'There."

I slipped Hugo back into the sheath on my arm and

ilhelmina into the holster. The old man moved to

the spot he'd pointed out and held the lantern high.

In the dancing shadows, I saw a small two-cylinder

bike, the kind fourteen-year-old kids ride on back

roads in the States before they're old enough for driv-

ers' licenses. It was coated with dust, and the torn

seat oozed foam rubber and was covered with a

folded piece of cloth tied on by sfring.

But if it carried Roberto, it would hold me—and get

me to a phone where I could contact an AXE agent

in this sector of the world.

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NICK CARTER: RILLMASTER

The old man watched me, his glance darting occa-

sionally to the motionless form on the ground. He

knew his son was dead; there was a mixture of grief

and acceptance in the old man's face.

'Which way is Tulum?" I asked as I pulled the

cycle out of its hiding place and wheeled it to the

road.

He pointed in the opposite direction the jeep had

taken. "The road is very bad."

And the darkness wouldn't help. I swung onto the

bike seat and kicked the starter. The engine gagged a

couple of times but finally caught. roar was loud

in the jungle night. I found the switch for the head-

light and put the bike in gear. The old man was still

standing in the road, holding the lantern high when I

glanced back through my own cloud of dust. Then I

settled down to the jolting ride.

It took me more than an hour to cover the six miles

and another half hour to find a phone. I called the

coded number I'd memorized from the Mexico-Yuca-

tan file Hawk had given me before I left Washington,

then waited ten minutes for the return call.

The voice on the other end asked me my location

and the nature of my problem.

I gave him the name of the small hotel that catered

to tourists visiting the ruins of the walled city of Tu-

lum, then said, "I'm planning a little expedition into

the jungle. I'll need a guide and supplies."

%ere was a brief silence, then the voice said,

Tey will be at the hotel by eight in the morning."

I shoved the phone across the desk and tapped the

small brass bell. The desk clerk, who had managed to

keep himself busy at the far end of the desk, turned. I

told him I wanted a room for the night, and I pulled

my soggy wallet from a, pocket and dropped a

hundred peso note on the counter.

Twenty minutes later I came out of the shower,

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39

nade sure the door was double bolted, and fell into

bed. I cleared my mind instantly and fell asleep.

I was awake and downstairs before seven. A few

risers were in the hotel dining room. fiey looked

it me with eyes full of questions. Clothes make

e man—and mine made me a bum. I wolfed down a

louble order of eggs and tortillas, realizing that the

hore lunch yesterday was my last meal. I was on a

bird cup of coffee, thick and bitter, when the man

Ippeared in the doorway, spotted me and came

oward my table.

"Mr. Franklin?'

I nodded. I had registered under my code name,

10t really in hopes of fooling anyone searching for me

mt as a precaution against accidentally tipping my

vhereabouts to any stray informers Maria and her

)al.s might have in the region.

He slid into the seat across from me and signaled

he waiter with his eyes. The waiter brought a cup of

iOffee and moved away.

gI am Ernesto Malle. We have a mutual friend in

)upont Circle."

He was Hawk's man, an AXE contact who could be

rusted.

gwe can be ready to leave in half an hour," Ernesto

aid in almost flawless English.

"I'm ready now."

He glanced at my rumpled and dirty clothes.

ave brought suitable clothes for the jungle. You

could not be comfortable othervtrise."

As I got to my feet, he added, "They are in your

oom.

He had been busy, and he hew his way around. I

rtalked out of the dining room and left him to handle

ae waiter and my bill. When I retuned downstairs

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twenty minutes later, three jeeps were at the front en-

trance of the hotel. The people rd seen in the dining

room were milling about one of them, settling the last

of their gear-on top of picnic baskets and kuapsacks.

The hotel obviously provided jeep service to the ar-

cheological site nearby.

naäves in straw hats and sandals surrounded

by supplies and boxes sat watching in the next jeep.

Ernesto motioned me to the last jeep in the line. A

dark-skinned native with high Mayan cheek bones

was already perched in back Like Ernesto and my-

self, he wore tans, with high boots and he had an au-

tomatic pistol in a holster at his waist. As I climbed in

front, Ernesto reached under the seat and pulled out

a flat box. In it lay a Walther, a Luger and several

boxes of ammo.

"You'll need a gun," he said.

TII stick with Wilhelmina." I scooped up a handful

of ammo and dropped it in my pocket. Ernesto turned

on the ignition, rolled the jeep out of the parking slot

and headed down the road, as the other jeep followed

in our dust. "Bearers," Ernesto said.

I found an old rag and a can of gun oil, and disas-

sembling the Luger, I cleaned it carefully. The dunk-

ing in the warm salty water of the Caribbean hadn't

hurt Wilhelmina, but it hadn't done her any good ei-

there I worked her over carefully as the two jeeps

bumped away from the hotel and headed back

through the jungle the way I'd come last night.

"I'll have to know more about our destination," Er-

nesto said, glancing sidelong at me.

I filled him in on the sketchy details rd gotten from

the old man last night. Ernesto frowned and turned to

speak to the man in the back in rapid dialect. Mayan?

It had only a hint of Spanish overtones and I under-

stood none of it. The guide leaned forward and an-

swered, bobbing his head and looking very distressed.

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

41

I caught the word more than once, and the

guy didn't seen very happy.

"What's he saying?' I demanded.

Tasa del Balam is a sacred place. 'Ille House of

the Jaguar. The gods dwell in it and no s&angers may

set foot there," Ernesto said in a near monotone,

different from his previous cadence. I couldn't tell if

he believed it or not.

Strangers are there now. I don't know how many,

but four went last night—by jeep from a tiny village

near the coast," I said.

He looked thoughtful a moment, then spoke to the

man in back again. When he turned to me, he said,

"Kayum says that strangers disturb the graves of the

gods at Casa del Balam. That means there's an arche-

ological dig there, and the people don't like it."

"A government expedition."

Emesto shook his head. 2<0, foreigners." He

grinned at me. That usually means North Ameri-

"Any expedition has to get clearance from your

government, doesn't it?"

He nodded. "In theory, but he have some poaching

and a lot of smuggling of artifacts. Vvmen you get fifty

miles from the nearest police force, you can do a hell

of a lot of things undercover. Quintana Roo has only

about five people for every square mile—that gives

any man a lot of room."

I gave that some thought. Was it part of the reason

this remote section of jungle had been chosen for

whatever Maria and the others were doing? Possibly

. but it couldn't be the whole answer. Not if they

brought Tasler here. Tasler was a missiles expert—and

three missiles had already gone off course without ex-

planation. I was damned sure that whatever Maria

and her friends were up to, it wasn't as simple as

stealing art objects.

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Tell me everything you can about Casa del

Balam," I said. I settled. down to oiling Wilhelmina

and slipping in fresh cartridges while Ernest talked

again with Kayum.

After several moments, he said, "It was discovered

by an expediåon about tt,venty years ago but was

never worked because Ws in an almost inaccessible

spot. The jungle is thick, with no roads or clearings

big enough for air strips. There's plenty of water from

underground wells, so the vegetation grows up almost

as fast as it's cut dovm. As far as Kayum knows, no

one has ever tried to excavate it before. %ere's sup-

posed to be a curse on it."

'What länd of a curse?'

He shrugged slightly but did not smile. "Balam is

the Mayan word for jaguar. The jaguar is sacred to

the Mayas so his home is sacred, too. Old super-

stitions die hard."

eSVill Kayum take us in?'

"He says he can't, but I think I can convince him to

bring us close enough so we can find it ourselves." He

glanced at me momentarily, then concentrated on

maneuvering the jeep around some deep ruts. "It

would be helpful if I knew what we're up against."

I rubbed the blue steel barrel and slipped Wilhel-

mina back into the holster at my armpit. Even with-

out a jacket, I preferred the familiar weight at my

ribs.

That makes two of us," I said.

Nothing was recognizable from my ride last night.

It was the same road but I'd seen only the patch in

the pale beam of the motorcycle headlight. Now the

dusty, green jungle closed over the road with determi-

nation; it was easy to see how it would soon cover

any tracks that were not well used.

The road forked about five miles out, and Ernesto

said that one branch went to the ruins at Tulum. We

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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took the south fork, away from civilization and

deeper into the jungle. Once, I thought I saw a clear

spot at the side of the road and a path but I couldn't

be sure it was the village I'd seen last night.

We rode in silence, bouncing and jostling in the

seats. Behind me, Kayum peered for landmarks. Once

he tapped Ernesto on the shoulder, motioning him to

stop. The other jeep braked as Kayum leaped to the

ground, paced the edge of the road, then shook his

head and climbed back into the jeep. We moved on

at a snail's pace so he could look for signs. The road

narrowed to a trail with long fingers of branches slap-

ping out at us in the open vehicles.

sun was high and hot when Kayum grunted

and leaped out of the jeep again. 'Illis time he

nodded, pointing to some trampled brush at the side

of the frack.

"He says this is it. We have to go on foot from

here."

I stood looking at the snarl of vines and shrubs that

almost hid the footpath, as Ernesto and the other

driver drove the jeeps into a thicket, then dragged

branches to camouflage them. They pulled out the

knapsacks and shouldered them, one, for each of the

bearers. With Kayum in the lead and me bringing up

the rear, we pushed into the jungle. Two screeching

macaws flew away with outspread blue and gold

wings bright in the greenery over us. We lost sight of

the road almost immediately; the trees were tall and

thick, forming a vaulted arch over the path, blocking

out the sky and filtering the light. The path was virtu-

ally invisible, but Kayum seemed to sense its direc-

tion as we moved along. From time to time he

stopped and cocked his head, listening, or lashed out

at tangled vines with a machete. Then we. moved

forward again, trying to be quiet in the thick brush.

Kayum stopped and held up his hand. WYhen he

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NICK CARTER: KELLMASTER

turned to look at Ernesto, his eyes were filled NSåth

fear. He shook his head and started back toward me.

I grabbed his arm while the bearers watched intently.

"M7hat is it?a demanded, whispering lest my voice

come thundering back at me from the surrounding

forest.

Kayum shook his head again and tried to pull

away. He said something I didn't understand. Ernesto

translated.

gHe won't go any farther. He feels the spirit of the

jaguar warning him."

"How far is the temple?"

"He isn't sure, but he says it's close."

"On this path?"

Ernesto asked Kayum, then nodded.

I Kayum's arm and brought Wilhelmina

from the holster to point at his chin. "Tell him to take

us there or he'll have more than a jaguar to worry

about!"

I shoved Kayum forward, releasing his arm but

keeping the Luger where he could see it. It would be

impossible to follow the trail without him—and he

hew it. I wasn't taking any chances now that we

were this close. The bearers fell in step behind us but

they didn't look happy. They'd heard and understood

Kayum, and they shared his fear.

I heard the soft intake of a man's breath behind me

and whirled instinctively. The first bearer had a look

Of total surprise on his face,' eyes wide and terrified,

mouth open in a soundless scream. His knees were al-

ready buckling as he fell forward. A trickle of blood

oozed from a puncture in his throat where a small ar-

row quivered.

"Down!" I flattened myself behind the man's body,

unsure of the direction from which the attack bad

come. Two feet from me, Kayum moaned softly and

jabbered something that sounded like a hasty prayer.

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ASSiCNMENT: TNTERCFIPT

45

His face was buried in the soft velvet of the jungle

floor.

"Nick—there!" Ernesto warned me just in time.

I heard the soft whiz of an arrow as I rolled; an-

other feathered shaft zapped into the dead bearer. I

lifted Wilhelmina and fired three quick shots into the

foliage. nere was a strangled cry, and a body

tumbled out of a tree and crashed into the bush.

I jerked the straps of the knapsack from the dead

man's shoulders and used the pack as a barricade for

my head as I scanned the brush for the hidden en-

emy. I saw Ernesto motion to the other two bearers to

stay down. They were slipping off their packs and

were cowering at the side of the path, trying to crawl

away and make themselves invisible.

I swung around at another rustle of noise just in

time to see a dark-faced native raise his bow. The

Luger spat and the man fell. Ernesto's gun cracked in

rapid fire. Another body fell from a nearby tree; one

of our bearers shrieked and fell headlong across the

path, thrashing for two or three seconds before lying

still.

Mluatever it was they were using on the arrows left

no room for chance. The tiny arrowheads were as

deadly as the Luger slugs—and a hell of a lot more

quiet.

There'd be no sneaking up on Maria and Tasler

now—the whole damned jungle knew we were here.

And they'd be waiting for us.

The third bearer had shucked his pack and was

dashing back along the path in panic. He must have

figured his chances were pretty slim no matter which

way he played it. I rolled and grabbed Kayum's leg

as he crawled off the path under a heavy dark-leaved

bush. He kicked at me, and I cracked his ankle bone

with the gun butt. He smothered a yelp of pain. His

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

heavy leather boot had padded the blow enough so I

hadn't broken the bone, but he knew I wasn't kidding.

We lay waiting. It seemed like an eternity before I

peered over the knapsack and looked around. Silence

had enveloped us again; even the birds and animals

were quiet.

Ernesto sat up and wiped a trickle of blood from

the side of his head. "I think that's it for now," he

said, watching the foliage. "They're either all dead or

have gone back for reinforcements."

"And we're sitting ducks. Come on, let's move." I

got up, dragging Kayum to his feet as he tried to fold

himself out of sight. I shook him.

I shoved one of the knapsacks at him and said, "Get

going."

He glared at me with terrified eyes but moved

along the path again, trembling visibly, I grabbed the

straps of another knapsack and stayed right behind

him.

About twenty minutes later, Kayum stopped and

pointed through the trees. I saw a glimmer of light, a

shifting of the dappled green pattern of the forest. A

clearing? The jungle around us was silent and heavy;

a spider monkey perched on a branch thirty feet

above looked at us balefully and seemed to be listen-

ing too.

Kayum pointed and spoke softly to Ernesto, who

turned to translate for me. Kayum moved so fast he

was past us and vanishing in the green fog before ei-

ther of us could move. I swore and glared at Ernesto.

He shrugged. "The man's terrified. He could be no

use to us beyond here."

"The temple?'

He motioned with a thumb. "Beyond the clearing.

Kayum says that the strangers who disturbed the

gods made camp here when they first came. It's only

a hundred yards to Casa del Balam.'* He studied the

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

47

screen of leaves. "Doesn't look like the camp is in use

now. I don't see any signs of life."

We moved forward at a crawl, edging past

branches and sidestepping as many fallen leaves and

twigs as possible. There had been no sign of rein-

forcements after the fracas with the bows and arrows,

but it could be a trap. And like the first one, we'd

walk right into it before we even knew it was there.

At the edge of the clearing we flattened ourselves

against the ground and inspected the area.

The clearing was about fifty feet across, a bare spot

hacked out of the jungle by sheer doggedness. Piles of

cut brush and slashed vines ringed the space; tendrils

of parasites were already creeping over the bared

ground and twisting in the debris. A patch of blue

sky glittered above the treetops.

clearing was empty. A circle of stones around a

shallow pit showed a fire scar; some turned earth was

heaped over what might have been a garbage pit.

Nothing else.

My glance took in the perimeter of the clearing in

search of the path to the temple. It was hard to pick

out anything from the solid green wall, but I mo-

tioned toward a shadowed place that might be an

opening.

Ernesto nodded, and we began to circle the clear-

ing, still down and crawling inch by inch. Every few

feet we stopped and listened to the silence around us.

We gained the far side and saw that the path had

been used recently. There were fresh breaks on low

hvigs and branches were bent back

I led the way, gun ready, nerves taut. More than

anything I wanted to sneak up on Maria and Tasler,

find out what the hell was going on before they

spotted me. And in spite of all the fireworks that had

preceded our arrival, I still had to try. There was al-

ways the chance—the barest chance—that they still

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NICK CARTER : KTLLMASTER

believed me dead. If we'd gotten all the guards back

there, at least Maria wouldn't know who was on her

trail now.

A hundred yards. It seemed more like a hundred

miles.

I stepped over a small log, half rotted and spilling

ants. I heard the swish of the rope and knew instantly

I'd madea mistake. My leg jerked out from under me

and my body twisted like an aerialist falling from the

wire—only I was going up, not down. The snare rope

cut into my flesh through the thick leather of the boot

as I swung suspended, upside down, over the path. I

tried to focus my eyes and my aim in the overturned

world. I had a glimpse of Ernesto, the trickle of dried

blood at his forehead now covered with a fresh rush

of red. I spun in a half circle just in time to see the

club come at my head to crush my skull.

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CHAPTER FOUR

It felt like my head split open; pain welled behind

my eyes and everything blurred into muddy greens

and reds. I felt myself spinning, my leg still snared in

the rope. I went limp and tried to stay conscious. I

could hear rustling sounds of someone moving and a

murmur of soft, almost whispering, voices. My spin

slowed and I opened my eyes a slit.

It took a couple of seconds for my vision to clear

and a few more for me to orient myself. Ernesto was

lying on the ground, felled by a blow to his head. He

wasn't moving. I glanced around, but whoever had

been there was gone now. We'd been caught and

were no immediate threat. Our attackers had either

gone for instructions or planned to leave us here to

die in the jungle.

Not while I still had Hugo. I flipped my wrist and

felt the comforting bone handle fall into my palm.

With a quick jerk that brought nausea and dizziness

rushing at me, I folded my body upward and grabbed

the rope around my ankle. As soon as I had a tight

hold on it with my left hand, I slashed the rope with

the blade of the razor-sharp stiletto and dropped to

the ground.

49

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

I moved to Ernesto, feeling for a pulse, relieved

when I felt the regularbeat. The wound on his head

was messy but not deep. I pressed a handkerchief to

it and turned him over, cutting the ground snare

that caught his foot. A few seconds later his eyes flut-

tered open. He was dazed and groggy. I helped him

sit up.

' 'Ae'Vhat happened

"We'll think about that later. We're okay, no one's

here now, but I don't think we'll be alone for long.

Let's get out of here." I found Wilhelmina and Er-

nesto's Walther where they had fallen. Why hadn't

our attackers picked them up?

I helped him to his feet and we staggered toward

the brush.

'We have to get off the path. They know we're

here, and they'll box us in."

He nodded, grimacing with pain, and pointed.

This way."

I didn't argue. We thrashed through vegetation that

closed behind us immediately. In seconds, the path

had vanished and we were moving on dead reckoning

and whatever sense of direction Ernesto had in the

jungle.

My head throbbed like a drum. Twice rd been sur-

prised on this little jaunt, yet I still hadn't caught

sight of the people I was after. Maria and her pals

seemed to have enlisted a hell of a lot of help from

some local talent—the type who were very much at

home in the jungle with unusual weapons. Indians?

The peninsula was inhabited mainly by Mayas, a

peaceful people who hadn't been at odds with anyone

s(nce the Spanish conquest. But somebody had stirred

them up now.

We plodded in silence for ten minutes or so, listen-

ing and looking about every few yards to see if we

were under observation. If we were, we didn't spot

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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anyone. But r kept thinking about how we hadn't

spotted the marksmen with arrows or the guys with

the clubs.

Ernesto halted and held up a hand. I saw the

temple ahead of us.

It was huge; a massive stone pyramid, slightly oval

in shape, covered with moss and lichen and towering

hundreds of feet above us. Yet against the backdrop

of the jungle, it was almost invisible. None of the ex-

terior had been cleared or restored like the structures

at the larger archeological sites at Uxmal, Chichen

Itza or Tulum. I'd heard there were hundreds of

temples scattered throughout the jungle, unexplored

and unknown to any but a few natives who happened

to stumble over them while hunting. This was obvi-

ously one of them: Remote, inaccessible—a perfect

hideout for almost anything that needed privacy.

And close enough to mainland U.S. for a missile

fracking station.

The sun glinted on metal, and I saw the silver pole

reaching from the top of the pyramid through the

frees. Squinting, I studied it until I made out the

shape of the radarscope glittering in the bright

Caribbean sun.

I was no expert on missles, but the equipment looked

powerful enough to track anything in the air. Or

deflect it.

I held a whispered consultation with Ernesto. "How

do we get inside?"

He drew his brows together. "There may be several

entrances, most likely at the cardinal compass points.

No telling how many rooms and passages there are

inside. Many temples are mazes."

T nodded, scanning the base of the temple for signs

Of activity or a way of entry. With the vines and grass

growing right up to the structure, any openings were

completely screened from view.

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NICK CARTER: KTLLMASTER

"Where's the most likely place for lookouts?"

Ernesto shook his head. "They'd have to be in the

jungle if they re outside. The only other place would

be along the walls themselves, but the slope would

cut off any view of the base. More than likely any

guards are in the trees near the entrances. Inside—"

He shrugged. " Illey could be anywhere."

"I'll take a look. You stay out of sight and try to

keep me covered."

I left him propped against a tall palm, the knap-

sacks at his feet. I reloaded Wilhelmina's clip and

slipped the gun under my arm. My shirt was sticky

with sweat and some of Ernesto's blood, and my head

still echoed with a faint drum beat.

I slid through the bush, moving cautiously and

without taking my eyes from the temple. There was

nothing—no entrance and no sign of guards. I moved

as lightly as I could, stopping every few seconds to

look again and listen, and staying deep in cover so I

would be invisible to anyone more than a few feet

away. I liked that—except it worked both ways. I

could fall over a hidden sentry without seeing him.

I covered one wall of the pyramid. Nothing. I

edged my way around a sapodilla tree toward the

rear of the structure. The forest had been cut back

several feet from the base, the grass and brush well

trampled. A hazy layer of dust filmed the leaves of

the nearby trees and spots of bare ground gave evi-

dence that the area got enough traffic so nothing had

a chance to grow over it.

I stood behind a squat broad-leaved palm and

scanned the length of the wall. The trampled places

converged on a spot near the center; I made out a

dark shadow on the stone walls The entrance?

I raised my glance to the surrounding trees but

their lush foliage screened them so well I couldn't be

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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sure there were no guards. I'd have to take my

chances.

I slid Wilhelmina from the holster and held the

Luger close to my side. As I inched forward, the

damned brush rustled and crackled around me like

Fourth of July fireworks. I'd be a lot quieter on the

open ground but rd also be a much better target.

It was close to two hundred feet to the entrance.

The birds above me had fallen silent at my approach,

but as I stood watching the doorway, thev began to

chirp random calls. There was no sign of guards. It

looked as if the men back on the path had been ex-

pected to take care of any intruders.

I didn't like the idea of getting into a tight place

didn't know, but there was no other way. VVhatever I

was looking for had to be inside the temple.

I stepped out into the open, holding my breath as I

tried to sense any change in the atmosphere around

me. Even at full alert, I almost missed him. He

dropped from a tree at my left and was on me before

the blur of motion registered in my brain.

His arms circled me from behind, pinning mine to

my body. I had a good four inches on him but he was

like tempered steel. I sucked air and doubled forward

in a quick motion to throw him off guard, but he antic-

ipated the move. He clung to me, his feet heavily

planted and immovable. Wilhelmina was useless

unless I could get turned around. And even then, I

wasn't sure I wanted to risk the noise of a shot that

would bring more guards on the run.

I relaxed and went limp. The man staggered

forward under my weight. It was enough to give me

the edge I needed. I ducked and brought my heel up

hard behind me. I heard his grunt of excruciating pain

and felt his arms loosen. I jerked sharply, breaking his

grip as I came around swinging Wilhelmina in front

of me.

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

He was still doubled over, his eyes huge with

whites showing around the dark pupils, his • face

twisted with pain. He •tried to grab for the gun. I

smashed the Luger against the side of his head and

watched him fall.

ne sound of the scuffe blanketed the soft ap-

proach of another man. Instinct made me turn in time

to see a spear driving at my back. I grabbed at it but

couldn't do more than knock it off course for the mo-

ment. The man holding it pulled back, then came at

me again in a crouch. He was dressed in some länd of

native costume, feathers at the head and neck and

strips of what looked like hammered gold around his

waist. His face was streaked with bright paint that

made him look like something out of a primitive reli-

gious ritual. The spear was four feet long, too long to

give him the advantage of in-fighting. If he backed off

far enough to throw it, I'd be able to deflect it before

it hit me. And he knew it.

His face was placid, with no sign of stress. I might

have been a wild boar he'd hunted down for his sup-

per. He was sure-footed, his bare toes curled into the

dust, and he was patient. He wasn't the slightest bit

afraid of the gun I was holding. Maybe he knew that

I had more to lose than gain by using it. Or maybe it

was just that I hadn't plugged his buddy when I had

the chance and he was banking on the same thing. He

balanced on the balls of his feet and moved slightly.

The spear made a small whirring noise as iftame at

me, a feathery blun I ducked and twisted sideways.

The deadly shaft passed over my shoulder, so close I

swore I felt the brush of the tailfeathers on my neck.

I realized in that instant that the arrow had been a

ploy. The man leaped at me, arms spread, a loose

length of thin cord in- his hand. He'd distracted me

long enough to make his real play. His arms flung

past me, hands over my head, then coming down

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55

swiftly and yanking the garrote about my neck. He

put all his muscle behind it, pulling the ends tight,

twisting and cutång off my air supply. I felt the thin

rope cut into my flesh; my head was already cloud-

ing, blacking as I gasped for oxygen. The streaks of

blue and white paint on the native's face blurred in

my vision. I heard the faint clack of the metal plates

of his costume.

I gagged and brought Wilhelmina up until I felt

the hard muzzle against unyielding flesh. As he

tightened his pull, I squeezed the trigger. "Ihe shot

sounded muffed, but my head was roaring so loud it

would have blotted out a freight train going by. For a

few seconds, I thought it was too late. The rope

seemed to slice deeper into my flesh. The last of my

air was gone and I heard myself groan, felt my hands

fall as I edged over the brink of consciousness.

Then it was over. The guy went limp and fell

forward, half pinning me under him as we hit the

ground. For a second, all I could do was gulp air and

wait for the black nausea to pass. When I finally sat

up, pushing the native aside, I saw the blood welling

from his ribs. He twitched a couple of times then was

But time and the noise had played against me.

Four others, similarly dressed, had formed a circle

around me, spears drawn. The tip of one was at my

neck, another at my chest.

The man directly in front of me grunted and

reached for Wilhelmina which had slipped from my

fingers. I made one fry for it, but the spear at my

chest drew blood. I let them drag me to my feet and

toward the entrance to the temple. Despite the fact

that I had killed one of them and cracked another's

skull, they were surprisingly gentle with me. They

made sure I moved where they wanted me to and

they kept me boxed in so I couldn't make a sudden

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break, but none of them laid a hand on me, except for

the spears close to my flesh.

air inside the temple was cool and damp, a re-

lief after the heat of the jungle. It took several mo-

ments for my eyes to get used to the gloom. We were

in a tunnel that seemed to rise as it probed the inner

recesses. It was low, and I had to walk half bent to

keep my head from hitting the roof. The tunnel was

lit by torches stuck in holders along the walls, The

lead guard lifted one down and lighted our way with

it.

Ernesto had said Mayan temples could be mazes of

rooms and passages. It looked as if he were right

about this one. Every half-dozen yards or so, another

passage cut off into the darkness at an angle to the

one we were following. Occasionally I saw flickering

torches in side tunnels but most were dark

I tried to keep my wits about me and draw a mental

map of our route, but it was impossible except for the

fact that the ground rose steadily under my feet.

cool air helped clear my head. Wilhelmina was hang-

ing from one of the guard's waists by a small leather

thong. From the time he'd picked it up, he'd given no

sign that he knew how to use it or wanted to. None of

the others in the jungle had used guns either; they

were more at home with the weapons of their ances-

tors.

We turned from the main passage into a smaller

one, the guy behind me prodding me with a spear tip.

We went single file but there was no chance to jump

the man ahead of me. By the time the thought

crossed my mind, we were at a narrow stairway cut

into the stone. It climbed at a sixty-degree angle, with

high risers and narrow treads that had been worn to

smooth hollows by centuries of climbers. ne leader

was already ten steps ahead of me, his upper torso

cut from view by the low stone ceiling. A spear

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

57

ipoked at my back, pricking the skin. I started to

climb.

It was a long way up. The air was close and warrn-

er here, and I was sweating. I counted eighty-three

steps before we came to the top. That meant we were

maybe seventy feet up inside. Was there more than

one way out?

At the end of another short passage, we came into a

room. It was a stone cavern, with thick square pillars

supporting the ceiling. There were carvings on the

columns—warriors with spears and feathered

headgear and neckpieces similar to those worn by the

men who'd taken me prisoner: The room was about

fifty feet across and less than half as wide. Several

torches hung along the walls, the flames licking up-

ward and the smoke being carried off through unseen

vents. At the far side, a low platform, on carved stone

legs that looked like skills, spread half the length of

the room. On it stood two carved figures, both styl-

ized but recognizable. One was a reclining human

figure, Chacmool, the fire god; the other was a jaguar,

with gleaming eyes of jade

and inlaid spots of

turquoise covering its body. A small fire in a stone pot

on the belly of Chacmool danced lights against the

jeweled eyes of the animal.

The man who'd led the way was at the platform

now, bowing and kneeling before the stone images.

His soft murmur hummed in the cavernous room as

he prayed.

The others took places along the walls and near the

doorway. Now that they had me here, they seemed

content to let me stand or move at will. I looked

around, checking for other exits and found two near

the men who'd taken up guard duty. The doorways

were low openings, and the light was so dim I

couldn't tell if they led to other levels or to rooms off

this one.

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The native at the altar finished his ritual and was

backing away, head still bowed. Without looking at

me, he spoke -to one of the guards and then went

through the doorway at my left. *Ihe light of his torch

vanished as he went around a bend.

I was gauging my chances against the three re-

maining guards. I could take one of them with Hugo,

but the other two would heave spears before I could

duck down the stairs. Pierre was powerful enough to

fill the room with paralyzing fumes, but rd still have

to make a fast break and I doubted that I could beat

two expertly thrown spears. Besides, even if I made

it, rd be right back where I started from—outside and

not knowing what the hell this was all about. I had

no choice but to hang around and see what happened

next. Maria Fuente and Dr. Tasler were here some-

where, probably Tasler's daughter, too.

Steps whispered and light bounced along the tun-

nel walls, then spilled into the room as the guard and

three others returned.

Maria Fuente was as beautiful as the last time rd

seen her—and just as deadly. She had a small caliber

revolver tucked in the waistband of her very tight

slacks. The black grip showed starkly against the

edge of the clinging white blouse that was open

several buttons from the top to expose shadowy cleav-

age. Her eyes were hard and mocking.

"So, Nick Carter, you have not learned your lesson,"

she said softly.

"We had a date...

She laughed, throwing her head back and brushing

her long hair over a smooth shoulder. "Yes, some unfin-

ished business ...

The small Oriental glanced at her. "Shut up." It

was spoken in a normal tone but it was as effective as

a shouted command. Maria's face went serious and I

thought I detected a hint of, flush in her cheeks.

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

59

third man of the party was one I'd seen before. He'd

helped Dr. Tasler on board the docked boat in San

Miguel,' and he was one of the two who'd taken shots

at me before I dived overboard. He didn't look happy

at meeting me again. And he was holding his gun

right out where I had no trouble seeing it.

small man was obviously in charge. He stepped

out of the shadows and came toward me. He was

Chinese, maybe not pure blooded but with slanted

eyes and a distinct yellow cast to his skin. His sleek

black hair was perfectly straight, and his eyes were

like chunks of black glass.

«so you are the great N3," he said coldly.

I nodded. "And you—?'

"Kim Han. We have been waiting for you."

"We?' I glanced toward Maria and the heavy with

the gun.

Kim Han smiled, barely bending his lips. "Dr. Liu

and myself."

"And just who is Dr. Liu?" I said.

The slim smile vanished and his eyes went hard.

"You have expended a great deal of energy tracking

down this place. I might have thought you were in-

terested in finding Dr. Liu, himself." He was baiting

me, and I knew it.

I took it. "Actually, I was on the trail of a beautiful

woman," I said, glancing at Maria momentarily. "I

should have known she'd have someone else waiting

in the wings."

He frowned slightly, not understanding the idiom

but catching the meaning. Maria looked uncomfort-

able and shot me a venomous look. So the arrange-

ment between her and the mysterious Dr. Liu was

less than romantic—or was it that Kim Han didn't

know about her many charms with other men? Maybe

he was expecting to have them all to himself. His cold

glance swept over her and almost thawed for an in-

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MCK CARTER: KILLMASTER

stant, but then he was all business again. 'The House

of the Jaguar is well guarded, Mr. Carter. I advise

you not to attempt an escape. My men have orders to

kill you if you try."

Mow long am I supposed to stay here?'

He shrugged. "That is up to Dr. Liu."

"When will I meet him?'

"When he is ready." Han was enjoying himself.

So far I didn't have an inkling of what the hell was

going on. I was inside a mysterious, remote temple,

prisoner of a man I'd never met, and on the trail of

something I didn't understand. I wasn't doing too

well.

He turned to leave but Maria put a hand to his

arm. "Carter is still armed. He carries a knife—"

Han turned to the man with the gun. "Gant, search

him. If he gives you any trouble, shoot him."

The heavy-set guy moved toward me like a truck.

He shoved the barrel of his .38 in my middle and be-

gan frisking me with his other hand. He pulled Hugo

from its sheath a moment later and tossed it aside as

he crouched to pat down my legs. I kept the half

smile fixed on my lips as though it were pasted there

as his beefy palm patted my inner thigh and calf with

no more than a cursory touch. I had to guard against

letting my breath out in. a sigh of relief when he

passed by Pierre and stood up again.

'That's it."

Han motioned to the Äfayan guard who already

had my gun. The man swooped up the stiletto and

slid it into his belt. Han motioned again, and the two

guards came forward, each grabbing an arm and

propelled me down the other passage across the room.

Moments later they shoved me forward into a small,

almost cell-like room. I had only a glimpse of it be-

fore the light retreated and I was in total darkness.

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CHAPTER FIVE

A small rustle of sound caught my attention and I

tried to pinpoint its source. Wthen it came again, I

knew I wasn't alone. I dug in a pocket and found a

book of matches. In the tiny flare of light, I saw a

huddled figure in the corner, wide eyes staring as he

tried to crouch deeper into the darkness.

"Dr. Tasler?' I moved to him, swearing as the

match burned my fingers and I flipped it away. I

struck another.

«VVho are you?' He was sitting up now, frowning

and peering at me.

"My name's Nick Carter. The government asked me

to keep an eye on you." I sat beside him with my

back against the cool stone wall.

"The government—P!" His voice caught as he real-

ized the implication of what I'd said. Then he sighed.

"I should have known...

"You're a valuable piece of property, Tasler. The

government doesn't take defection lightly."

Out I'm not—n He sucked air in deeply as the

match burned out and we were in the dark again.

'Rs not what you think."

"Why don't you tell me about it?'

61

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"No . • I can't—"

"Look, Tasler, we're both trapped in this place and

it's going to take some doing to get out. But it can be

done—and we can probably take your daughter with

I heard him suck air again. "You know about

Sheila?'

"I know she's been kidnapped and they used her as

bait to get you here. I know, too, that we're dealing

with ruthless people who don't give a damn for human

life—especially yours or Sheila's or mine. These guys

want something, and as soon as they get it they're go-

ing to finish off all three of us."

"They promised—"

'You're a fool ff you believe it. Now, suppose you

tell me who Dr. Liu is and why he needs you."

ne long silence was broken only by the sound of

his heavy breathing. I really hadn't thrown him a

curve. Tasler was too intelligent to believe the Hnds

of promises he'd been handed. Vtmat he'd done he'd

done in desperation—because he didn't know any other

way to protect his daughter.

"Your only hope of getting Sheila out of here alive

is to throw in with me. Together we've got a chance."

I didn't mention Ernesto. It was possible that Tasler

could be forced into betraying me.

"How will you get us out?'

don't know yet, but I'll find a way," I said. M?hen

he didn't answer right off, I asked, "Are you familiar

with our governmenes AXE agency?'

I heard a rustle of sound as he pulled himself up

and leaned toward me. His voice was hardly a

whisper. "You work for AXE?"

"Right. NX" I let that sink in. If he was familiar

with AXE, he'd know that my N3 rating as Killmaster

gave me carte blanche to decide if he lived or died—

in the interest of his country. Any assignment I took

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

63

involved the safety and security of the nation, and if I

had to kill one-—or more—of our own people to protect

that security, there'd be no questions asked.

Finally, he sighed. "All right. What db you want to

know?'

"Let's start with Dr. Liu."

"He's a Red Chinese scientist."

"He's found a way to deflect and reroute missiles in

Right?'

"You know about the test shots of the K-IV?'

He let his breath out. EThis is his base of oper-

ations. His laboratory is at the top of the pyramid."

"You've seen it?'

"I was taken there as soon as they brought me here.

Liu's got a radar-tracking system and a launching pad

on a movable platform that he can raise in the air

over the temple. It must have taken him months to

carry in equipment to set it up."

CCW%y does Liu need a launching pad if he's deflect-

ing missiles already in the airr

"He's got a nuclear warhead. He plans to guide it

to a missile launched from the Cape and let it hook

up magnetically. He can reset the guidance system

and aim the armed missile at some strategic Russian

site. W"hen it hits, our government will never be able

to convince the Russians we didn't plan it. They'll

force the issue, and while they're attacking the US.,

they'll also hit the southem Russian border and in-

vade India and Burma." He sighed. "The Chinese

government is behind Liu's move and ifs been well

planned."

Hawk's fears were right. The Red Chinese were

ready to precipitate World War III by setting snarl-

ing dogs at each other's throats.

"How do you fit into the picture?' I asked Tasler.

'Liu needs a more powerful solid fuel to propel the

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NICK CARTER : KILT-MASTER

missile's extra weight and distance -after the hookup.

I've been working on just such a fuel."

"How close are you to completion?' He was silent

and the darkmess around us got heavy. "Come on,

Tasler, if you don't level with me you know what I

have to do. And with you out of the running, how

long do you think Liu will keep Sheila around? As a

plaything, maybe a day or two. Then she's finished.

He can't let her out alive to tell anyone what he's up

to."

Tasler hesitated. "Days, maybe less. I was very

close. • • e"

«But you ran out on your job."

"No—you don't understand."

"Suppose you tell me."

The sigh was more of a shuddering breath "this

time. "I couldn't go back. They kmew everything I

was doing. No matter how careful I was with my re-

ports and calculations, they knew."

"You mean someone was stealing your results?"

"Not only results, ideas. At first I thought it was a

fluke, just one of those crazy coincidences."

"Just a minute. Start from the beginning and don't

leave anything out."

He hesitated. "They may be listening... .0

I doubted it. The walls of this place were of thick

solid stone. Even Dr. Liu would have a hell of a time

bugging/ every room. "Whatever happened at the

Cape, they already know anyhow. Don't waste any

more time—just brief me."

it had started a year ago, he said. He'd come up

with a fuel formula that looked promising and

prepared a lab sample for testing. The experimental

sh6t was carried out in a test tunnel with scale equip-

ment. The fuel was a definite improvement on its pred-

ecessors but it fell short of Tasler's expectations. Yet

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

65

'ess than three weeks later he read of the same ex-

periment conducted by Chinese scientists in Peking.

"Was it that revolutionary a formula?' I'd heard

:hat scientists were duplicating each other's work con-

stantly.

"In some ways, but as I said, I was willing to con-

sider it a coincidence. But when the same thing hap-

pened three more times, I knew it couldn't be. For

someone else to be doing every experiment I did at

the exact time I did was too much to accept."

'*How could you be sure of the timing?'

"The scientific journals are dated and the experi-

ments were always out of the same laboratory. Still, I

pushed on with my work."

"And the Chinese reports continued?"

"No. They stopped quite abruptly. At first I was re-

lieved, but then I realized the pirating was still going

on—only the work wasn't being published."

It seemed far-fetched but something had pushed

Tasler into bolting.

"Go on."

"As you probably know, Mr. Carter, every govem-

ment has an agency to sift bits of information it re-

ceives from various sources. The purpose is to find out

if any of our own security systems have developed

leaks. The top man at Cape Kennedy, Dr. Simpson

Wainwright, handles queries about our type of work.

Two months ago he was questioned extensively by

the CIA about the solid fuel research we were

conducting. Three different sources had supplied the

information that Red China was close to developing

exactly what we were after." Tasler sighed.

"Wainwright called me in and almost accused me of

writing something that shouldn't have been written or

tallcing out of turn."

"And you hadn't?'

"Positively not! I know that, and I convinced

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

65

'ess than three weeks later he read of the same ex-

periment conducted by Chinese scientists in Peking.

"Was it that revolutionary a formula?' I'd heard

:hat scientists were duplicating each other's work con-

stantly.

"In some ways, but as I said, I was willing to con-

sider it a coincidence. But when the same thing hap-

pened three more times, I knew it couldn't be. For

someone else to be doing every experiment I did at

the exact time I did was too much to accept."

'*How could you be sure of the timing?'

"The scientific journals are dated and the experi-

ments were always out of the same laboratory. Still, I

pushed on with my work."

"And the Chinese reports continued?"

"No. They stopped quite abruptly. At first I was re-

lieved, but then I realized the pirating was still going

on—only the work wasn't being published."

It seemed far-fetched but something had pushed

Tasler into bolting.

"Go on."

"As you probably know, Mr. Carter, every govem-

ment has an agency to sift bits of information it re-

ceives from various sources. The purpose is to find out

if any of our own security systems have developed

leaks. The top man at Cape Kennedy, Dr. Simpson

Wainwright, handles queries about our type of work.

Two months ago he was questioned extensively by

the CIA about the solid fuel research we were

conducting. Three different sources had supplied the

information that Red China was close to developing

exactly what we were after." Tasler sighed.

"Wainwright called me in and almost accused me of

writing something that shouldn't have been written or

tallcing out of turn."

"And you hadn't?'

"Positively not! I know that, and I convinced

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NICK CARTER : KILLMASTER

Wainwright for the moment. From whatever source

the Chinese were getting their information, it wasn't

from anything I said or wrote." He paused and

seemed to choose his words carefully. "That left only

one possibility," he continued. "Someone was reading

my mind."

I wished there was some light so I could see his

face. There was no doubt in his tone; he was serious.

I said, "You mean ESP?'

"That's what I thought at first, but it's more insidi-

ous than that. Dr. Liu has developed a thought-po-

licer and had someone in the laboratory using the

device on me.

"A thought-policer?l"

"Yes. It operates similarly to a lie detector but with-

out physical contact. It monitors changes in cardio-

vascular activity and the respiratory system, telling

the operator when the subject's thought pattern takes

a positive swing. Not only can answers to direct ques-

tions be read, but reactions to visual data."

I considered the idea—and didn't like it at all. "You

mean this policer can read emotional reactions?'

"At a glance. By placing the subject in his normal

work pattern, it therefore indicates successes and fail-

ures. With someone in the laboratory monitoring ev-

erything I did, it wouldn't be hard to figure out when

I was on the track of something significant. All he had

to do then was 'feed' me pertinent questions or infor-

mation and read off my reactions."

"Did you discover who was doing this in the lab?"

It had to be someone skilled

"I'm not sure.

enough to understand the principles I was investigat-

ing and to be able to interpret my work. I'd come

into the lab and find the formula for the catalyst

written on a scrap of paper on my desk. At first I

couldn't figure out what was going on. When I

did it was too late. They already had everything

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

67

{'d been doing. I didn't dare take my story to

Wainwright or anyone else. Who would believe it?

Everyone in the laboratory had top-security clear-

ance, yet someone was a spy."

"This thought-policer—wouldn't you have been able

to spot it if someone brought it in?"

"Liu's device looks like a wrist watch. The guards at

the Cape didn't spot it, and neither did I. Liu showed

me the thought-policer when I arrived. It's even more

sophisticated than I imagined."

"How so?'

I felt him stir and change position. "It also contains

a recording device and a memory cell."

"A memory cell?'

"Yes. It actually records the subject's thoughts, al-

most like a voice pattern, and the computer reads

them back and makes a printout. Liu can read off the

subject's thoughts moments after the policer has been

used on him." He drew a deep breath and let it out

slowly. 'T•le demonstrated it—very effectively, I might

say. He reads me back my thoughts like an echo."

"You're sure it wasn't a trick?'

"I accused him of that and he challenged me to test

it. I mentally reviewed a complicated chemical

equation. There was no way he could have guessed

that particular thought, yet he read it back to me per-

fectly."

A device to read out another person's thoughts: the

concept was frightening—and deadly. No wonder Liu

was so sure he could pull off his coup.

"So you stopped working."

"I couldn't stand the strain," Tasler said. "My

health has been poor the last few years. The heart at-

tack was genuine."

"And after it you refused to go back to work?

gyes. If I couldn't stop them from reading my

thoughts, I had to stop thinking."

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'Would it be possible to jam the policer by setting

up blocking thoughts?"

He was silent a moment. #You mean like creating

static on a radio frequency?'

c' I don't know. You'd have to know *you were being

monitored, of course."

"It might be worth a fry when Liu tries his gadget

again."

He sighed. "If Liu hurts Sheila...

I knew Tasler would be no match for the kind of

torture Liu had in mind. I changed the subject,

guessing at the rest of the story. "And someone con-

tacted you and told you your daughter wanted to see

you.

"I believed the telegram was from Sheila! She said

she was on her way to Cozumel and wanted me to fly

over for a few days. When I got there, that girl—

Marie Fuente—told me Sheila was in trouble and

couldn't come to the hotel. She said she'd been in-

volved in a hit-and-run accident and was afraid of the

authorities. Maria said she'd arranged for me to meet

Sheila on the north side of the island during the

cruise. But she wasn't there. The man who met me

said if I valued her life, I'd better do as I was told.

They brought me here and r ve been a prisoner ever

since—and I still haven't seen my daughter, only Dr.

Liu. Liu wants me to perfect the formula I was work-

ing on at the Cape."

"Where is Sheila now?" I asked.

"I don't know," Tasler sounded completely deject-

I got to my feet and moved my hands along the

wall.

"What are you doing?' he said.

'Trying to find us a way out of here." I covered the

four walls of the room. It was about eight feet by six

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ASSiGNMENT: INTERCEPT

69

with only the single door. The walls were stone, close

fitting, solid. I couldn't touch the ceiling but I felt the

slight upward flow of air from the doorway behind

me. Air vents could be a dozen feet over my head. I

had no way of telling.

I went back to the doorway. It was arched in the

&aditional Mayan corbel style and barely high

enough for me to pass through with my head bent. I

eased out into the corridor and listened. No sound

came through the thick stone walls or the maze of

angled passages. There was no guard near the door

but I suspected I wouldn't get far before I stumbled

over one. Somewhere down the line I'd have to come

out into a lighted area—and thefd be waiting.

Dr. Liu was damned sure of himself.

I went back into the cell and hunkered down near

Tasler. "I want you to start yelling."

"Loud. Demand to see Liu again."

eVVhat good will that do?'

I wasn't sure, but I said, "It'll get us some action." I

pulled him to his feet and led him to the doorway.

"Okay, give it all you've got."

Tasler let out a half-hearted bellow. 'Tleyl"

"Louder and make it non-stop."

"Heyl Let me out of here! I want to see Dr. Liu! I

want to talk to him nowil HEY!II HEEEEYYY!MI"

I counted off the seconds until I saw the first flicker

of light down the passage and heard the sound of

n.mning feet. It took the guards eighteen seconds to

get to us. I figured that meant they were stationed

about a hundred yards away. I filed the fact for fu-

ture use.

The lead man shoved the torch into the cell. Tasler

backed away momentarily; then stood his ground,

glancing at me for encouragement.

"I want to see Dr. Liu' he said.

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The Mayan said something and lifted his spear

threateningly, but Tasler was insistent. "I want to see

him now."

The guard was puzzled. He didn't have any orders

covering this situation. He spoke to the two behind

him, and after a moment one of them retreated along

the tunnel. The others backed out of the doorway and

blocked the passage with their spears.

We waited almost five minutes before the runner

returned and spoke rapidly to the others. One of the

guards grunted and motioned with his spear for us to

follow. One man was already far ahead of us, a torch

lighting the way. The third man fell in between

Tasler and me so we were flanked on all sides. They

carried only the spears and torches, but those were

enough in the narrow tunnel that was familiar terri-

tory to them: When we came out into the big room

again, Kim Han was waiting. Maria's two buddies

from the boat were right behind him, guns dramvn.

"So you have decided to cooperate, Dr. Tasler.

Most wise," Han said.

Tasler had the spirit of it now. "I want to see Liu."

Han nodded and turned to the guards. "Take Car-

ter back to the cell."

"No," Tasler said quickly. "I want him with me."

Han's expression didn't alter as he weighed tbe re-

quest. "All right, follow me. Cant, watch Carter."

The stocky Cant grinned as though he enjoyed the

idea of handling me personally. He nudged me sharp-

ly with the tip of the Walther he was holding and

we followed Han and Tasler across the big room and

through another passageway.

This one was wider, with torches stuck in wall

sconces every few yards. It was short and well

guarded. Four Chinese soldiers with rifles were

spaced along the passage, watching us. Any one of

them löoked capable of shooting at the first false

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move. We climbed another set of narrow steps, fifteen

in all. The passage turned and led directly into a

huge room, almost the size of the one we'd left.

rd read enough about Mayan architecture to know

that their rooms were narrow since they? d never

discovered the principle of the frue arch. room

had obviously been enlarged and reinforced recently.

Steel beams supported the stone ceiling, fluorescent

lights cross-hatched the ceiling and stone walls. In-

stead of a bleak cavern, the room was bright as day; I

detected tbe hum of a distant generator.

The room was obviously a laboratory. A long table

had been set up at one side of the room, with several

smaller workbenches off it. Test tubes, flasks, retorts

and beakers stood in racks and holders over blue

flames. A large console computer stood against an-

other wall; next to it several pieces of machinery I

didn't recognize were covered with plastic drop

cloths.

But the equipment at the far end of the room was

even more impressive. rd seen similar stuff before—at

Cape Kennedy. The platform looked innocent enough

except for the grilled mechanism beneath it that

would raise it at the touch of a switch. It was the

kind of pneumatic lift technicians at the Cape used to

raise men and equipment to the nosecone of moon-

shot rockets. I glanced up and saw a glimmer of light

where a movable panel had replaced part of the

temple's apex to provide the necessary opening for

launching.

Beside the launching pad was the complicated ra-

dar equipment needed to track the missile in the

air—and aim it at its target. I could see why Tasler

had been impressed.

Half a dozen more armed soldiers were stationed

along the walls. Gant jabbed me with the Walther

again and I moved away from the doorway. Han was

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half bowing to the man who looked up from the notes

spread before him on the table.

Liu was dressed in fatigue slacks and a white lab

coat. His face might have been chiseled of yellow

marble, and dark eyes peered at us from behind

round glasses. He was sitting on a stool in front of a

desk covered with notes, and he didn't get up.

Han spoke to him in Chinese and I caught the gist

of it—I was part of Tasler's package deal.

Liu paid no more attention to me than if I had

been a fly on the wall. He looked at Tasler and said,

" rm glad you have decided to work with me, doctor.

It is foolish to delay." His English was almost unac-

cented.

I said, "Dr. Tasler wants some assurances that his

daughter is all right. So far he has only your word for

it."

Liu moved his gaze to me, his dark eyes boring

through me as though in search of some reason for

my existence. Beside me, Tasler coughed nervously as

Liu pulled back the sleeve of his lab coat and glanced

At the device on his wrist. He looked at Tasler again.

"If I allow you to see your daughter, will you coop-

erate?

CT--" Tasler glanced at me and licked his lips. I

knew he put his daughtefs safety above anything, but

he was well conditioned in loyalty to his government.

And he was thinking of what I'd told him about Liu

not keeping any promises he made.

"Sure he will. Christ, he's her father—you know

damn well he'd do anything for her release."

Dr. Liu moved slightly on the stool, facing me

squarely. He glanced at the thought-policer again.

His laugh had all the warrnth of an arctic iceberg.

"I'm disappointed in you, Mr. Carter. I had hoped

you would be a more skillful liar. You are childlike!"

He turned to Tasler. "And you are a fool. Very well, I

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will show you your daughter—and you will see what

will happen to her if you delay any longer. Cant!"

The short dark man with the gun stepped forward

like a puppet. Liu motioned to the wall opposite us.

Cant scurried to press a concealed button in the

stone. A large panel slid sideways revealing a window

about eight feet square. Liu motioned us to it.

Tasler stumbled and almost fell. He grabbed the

edge of the window, his knuckles white. His face was

filmed with sweat and he was shaking visibly. I

looked through the window I saw why.

We were looking down into another room. A dozen

Indians in feathered garb, their faces painted with

grotesque designs, and carrying knives and spears,

were dancing slowly in front of a low, flat altar. One

man, naked except for a loin cloth and a jaguar skin

cape over his shoulders and a huge ornate headdress,

stood facing them. His entire body was painted blue

and in the flickering torch light, he looked like an ice

statue.

But it was what was behind him that accounted for

the low whisper that escaped Tasler?s lips.

On the altar, a girl lay tied to a stone ring in the

wall. She looked about twenty-four, slim, red-haired

and beautiful. And scared. Her eyes mirrored fear

and her body was tense. She was watching the cere-

mony before her with fascinated horror.

I had no doubt that it was Sheila Taslers

The dancing men swayed to a beat we couldn't

hear, their mouths moving, their eyes concentrating

on the nearly naked girl. She was dressed in a short

white toga tied about ber waist with a gold rope. Her

body quivered and her high breasts thrust against the

fine cotton cloth which clung to her like a second

skin.

Tasler looked ready to collapse. I wondered if his

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heart would stand the strain; Liu might defeat

himself by causing Tasler to have another attack.

I hadn't heard Liu move, but he was directly be-

hind us. "In this part of Yucatan, rain is a most vital

commodity. The survival of the people depends totally

on the Crops they can harvest. The rain god must be

appeased."

Tasler turned, white-faced. "Sa-sacrifice P' He

could barely get the word out.

Liu shrugged. "They consider their gift to Chac a

love offering. It is an honor to die for the gods."

"My God—you can't—you can't be serious—n

Tere is no need to excite yourself, Dr. Tasler.

The entire matter is in your hands." Dr. Liu carved a

smile in his marble face. 'Thé decision is yours." He

glanced at the wrist watch again.

I was close enough now to see the thought-policer.

The instrument strapped to Liu's wrist was square,

about two inches along each side, with a dark face on

which three lines of light wiggled. It looked like a

miniature version of the kind of cardiovascular moni-

toring unit used in hospitals. By focusing on one or

the other of us, he was directing the beam, or what-

ever the hell operated the policer. He was reading

immediate changes in respiration and blood pressure.

He'd called my bluff about Taslerps cooperation a lie

because he knew it was exactly that.

Y%en he turned to me again, I tried to blank my

mind. I was a couple of seconds too late. He glanced

at the instrument and smiled knowingly. Ile didn't

even give a damn if I was on to him.

"Now perhaps we can talk, Dr. Tasler. The cere-

mony of sacrifice will not take place for two days.

The sacrifice must be purified before it can be

offered. The Mayas are a simple people and they

follow the ancient ways." He turned from the window

and returned to his desk. Tasler couldn't pull his eyes

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

75

from the scene below. He leaned against the thick

glass, pressing his face to it as he pounded.

"Sheilall Sheila!!!" Hisvoice echoed in the labora-

tory, bouncing from the stone walls and rolling in the

cavern.

Gant took a step toward him but I moved between

them. I grabbed Tasler and pulled him away. "She

can't hear you, Tasler. Come on—

He sobbed, staring down into the room where his

daughte?s gaze was still riveted on the ritual before

her. Taslefls screams hadn't penetrated the thick walls

or the panel of heavy glass. I was pretty sure nothing

else would either, not even a cannon. Cant touched

the control button and the panel slid shut.

Tasler could barely stand. I helped him to a chair

near Liu's desk. The Chinese was on his stool again,

his face immobile.

"All right, you've made your point," I said. nake it

easy on him or you'll have a corpse on your hands.

He's had one heart attack already."

Tour concern overwhelms me, Mr. Carter." Liu

didn't bother to smile.

I shrugged. Td like to see him come out of this

alive."

The laboratory was silent except for TasleRs harsh

breathing. Liu looked at his wrist almost negligently

and sighed. "Another lie, Mr. Carter. I see there is no

point in discussing the matter further with you.

Cant—" He waved to the gunman.

"Wait-"

"NO, Mr. Carter• I bave no need to keep you alive.

You can be nothing but trouble to me. Besides, I'm

sure Dr. Tasler prefers to do everything he can to

save his daughter. I have given my word that they

will both leave the temple unharmed when I have

what I need. Whether or not he believes it, he must at

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CARTER : XILLMASTER

least make an attempt to save her—and himself. Sur-

Vival instinct, Mr. Carter."

He turned to Tasler. "Are you aware that Mr. Car-

terps rating with his department gives him the respon-

sibility of deciding if his country would be better of

with you dead? He has a license to HI. I am thinking

Of your safety as well as my own convenience in dis-

posing of him. He motioned to Gant again and

the man jabbed me with the gun. The other man

from the boat came up alongside and shoved me

toward the doorway.

«lt would amuse me to keep you around, Mr. Car-

ter, but I'm afraid time does not permit such luxuries.

I have a great deal of work to do. Take him out."

They shoved me into the corridor with the guns at

my back. This time they both stayed behind me.

I was a dead man—the only missing link was the

method they planned to use.

We started dmvn the steps. All sounds from the lab-

oratory were cut off, the thick stone Galls deadening

even our footsteps. I glanced along the wall. The

torches in the holders were set at arm's reach for the

Mayans who tended them. That put them within easy

reach for a man my height. I held my breath and lis-

tened to the soft sounds of the two men behind me.

I made my move fast. I took three steps in a long

leap, sliding against the wall and grabbing for the

base of a torch. Gant and his buddy uttered startled

sounds of surprise, but I was already turning, the

torch poking back toward them. I ducked, and threw

myself across the corridor as a bullet slammed into

the wall where I'd been an instant before. I shoved

the torch hard and felt it hit flesh. 'Ille torch was flam-

ing pitch that stuck to the skin, searing and spread*

ing, impossible to brush off. The men screamed and I

swung the torch like a whip, slashing at their faces

and blinding them before they could find me again.

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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mother shot whined over my head and sent slivers of

tone spraying as it hit the wall.

The two of them were stumbling and clawing their

vay up the stairs. I smelled burning flesh and singed

lair. Gant rolled on the stone, screaming in agony as

tried to beat out his flaming shirt. He coughed and

as smoke engulfed him.

The other man was two steps higher, scrambling on

Jl fours. I threw the torch and didn't wait to see

Fhere it landed but had a good idea from the new

of agony that erupted.

I was running.

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CHAPTER SIX

I took the first passage I found. I had to shake ofl

-the soldiers who'd be pouring along the corridor an

those coming down from the lab. They could trap me

between them too easily.

There were a couple of torches lighting the firs

dozen yards, then none. The tunnel was narrow

than the main one and Hvisted and turned with a

slight downward slope. I had to hold my arms out a

my sides to stay on course, and I was slowed 'o

walk. I didn't hear anyone following me, but I had al

ready realized how thick stone walls cut off

sounds. I tried to memorize the twists and turns

made so I could orient myself in the maze of th

temple, but it was impossible. Whoever had built this

section had never learned that the shortest distan

between two points is a straight line.

There was still no sound behind me when I saw th

glimmer of light. It danced along a wall about ter

feet ahead where the passageway angled to the left.

flattened myself to the wall and eased toward it.

The corridor opened to a room—one I'd seen before

I was looking into the ceremony chamber where I'd

first seen Sheila Tasler. And she was still here.

78

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The dancing chanters were gone. So was the priest

n the blue paint.

I studied the shadows in search of guards but the

firl was alone, still tied on the altar. I moved closer,

;canning the upper walls where Liu had opened the

Janel. Unbroken darkness. I couldn't be sure the win-

-low hadn't been one-way glass. I'd have to chance it'

slipped into the room, still close to the wall, and

worked my way around to the altar. The girl heard

my approach and turned with terrified eyes. I mo-

tioned her to be quiet. She looked puzzled but said

nothing.

I felt the leather thongs that held her to the stone

hitching post. I began to work the knots with my

fingers, swearing silently because of the missing

Hugo. It took me precious seconds to get the rope un-

done.

Sheila lay very still, her gaze a mixture of hope and

wonder. She shivered and rubbed her wrists as I

pulled the final strip of leather away. Her mouth

opened, but I shook my head and pulled her to her

feet. Then we were moving slowly back along the

wall. She could hardly stand, and I had to hold her

up with an arm around her waist. She clung to me in

desperate trust. I pulled her into the shadows and

leaned against the wall.

I studied the room, noting that there were three

passages opening from it. "VVhich way did the Indi-

ans go?' I whispered.

She flicked a glance toward a corridor directly

across from us. 'There." When she saw me study the

third opening, she shook her head. "That one leads to

Liu's laboratory upstairs."

Liu had probably alerted every guard in the place

by now. Had they decided which passage rd taken?

Or were they methodically combing every one? Our

best chance was the route the Indians had used. We'd

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NICK CARTER: KLLMASTER

have a better chance against them than against sol-

diers with rifles.

"Can you walk?'

She nodded and pulled herself up. Her face had

lost some of the fear and she trusted me. I could see

the burning question ih her eyes but she said nothing

as I took her hand and led her into the dark passage-

way. Maybe she figured anything was better

what the Indians had in mind for her. Or maybe she

was just relieved to see a fellow American.

A light showed in the tunnel ahead of us. I stopped

and listened, but the walls soundproofed everything.

There could be a full-scale search with bloodhounds

going on and I wouldn't know it.

The flickering torches eased the darkmess but left

deep shadows. I could see a dozen feet ahead—so far,

we were still alone. Signaling with my finger to my

lips, we moved forward again.

silence was eerie, and I kept remembering how

Ernesto and I had been attacked in the jungle with-

out warning. An Indian who could make his way

through the thick brush without telltale sounds

wouldn't have any trouble in stone passageways. I

would have felt sa lot better if Wilhelmina had been

where she belonged, under my arm.

We came around another angle of the passage and

almost ran smack into an Indian. Some instinct

warned him a second before he saw me, and he

readied the long knife in his hand. He was like an ani-

mal, swift and silent. I shoved Sheila back and

ducked under the gleaming blade as it slashed

through the air with a slight hissing sound. I plowed

headfirst into his gut, grabbing him in a hug that

pinned his arms. He tried to twist away and get the

knife up again. He was sure of himself and made no

cry for help. That was his mistake.

I braced my weight and balanced myself, then let

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ASSIGNNfENT: INTERCEPT

81

go suddenly, giving him a shove at the same time. I-Ie

staggered back, his dark eyes glittering, the knife

coming up instantly. I crashed a foot into his crotch.

his eyes glazed and he fell back, doubled with pain. I

brought my hee up in time to catch his chin, then

slammed the side of my hand to the back of his neck.

He crumpled and was still.

I picked up the knife and grabbed Sheila's hand.

We ran. Moments later we were in the main corridor

that led to Liu's lab and the big room where Tasler

had made his pitch to Han.

There was no sign of the soldiers or other guards,

but I knew they were everywhere. They d undoubt-

edly been assigned places to search, and no matter

Åvhich way we went we could bump into them or be

spotted.

Sheila seemed to sense the renewed danger. Her

fingers tightened on mine and her palm was sweating.

When I looked at her, the fear was back in her eyes.

"Do you know your way around the temple?' I

asked softly.

She shook her head. "There are some small rooms—

they kept me in one of them. But rm not sure—-" She

looked in both directions and shrugged.

I pointed. "The laboratory is up there."

"Then I was down there," she whispered, pointing.

She indicated a passageway leading off opposite us.

Scratch that exit. The last thing we needed was to

box ourselves in a hole with no escape route. And

with Liu and his soldiers at one end, the only way

was right through the big room.

Tome on—

"But—" She searched my face. Her blue eyes were

cool and enticing. "Miho are you—?"

"Not now. If we don't get out of here it won't mat-

ter. Stay behind me and be ready to duck fast."

We inched along the corridor, straining to hear

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

sounds from any direction. A torch sputtered and I

felt Sheila jerk around. I squeezed her hand and kept

moving.

The big room seemed empty at first glance. Since

there had been guards here when Tasler and I went

to Liu's lab, they knew I hadn't doubled back this

way, so they were concentrating on the side passages.

I crouched in the opening and studied the shadows

carefully.

An Indian was standing in the darkness behind one

Of the carved stelae. His dark skin and the breech-

cloth he wore blended like camouflage. The torchlight

caught the gleam of the tip of the spear he was hold-

ing.

I pushed Sheila back and whispered, 'TII have to

take him. Wait here until I signal."

She nodded, too frightened to talk.

I crouched and slid along the wall, keeping my

eyes on him every second. There was no way of tell-

ing whether he'd spotted me; he was motionless as I

crept toward him.

Dr. Liu had said the Mayas were a simple people,

steeped in the old ways. This one was waiting for me

the way he would an animal. He'd spotted me but

Was letting me get within range....

A tiny gleam of light shifted as he brought up the

spear and readied it. I lunged, zigzagging a course

across the ten feet that separated us. He shifted posi-

tion and threw the weapon. It whistled past my head,

missing me only by inches. He had compensated for

my motion—and he'd come close. I heard the spear

fall on the stone behind me. I slammed my full

weight into the man and slashed Nith the knife. He

grunted heavily, gurgkd once and fell. I stood over

him for as long as it took me to pull the knife from

his belly. I turned to signal Sheila.

She ran across the room and followed as I led the

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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way down the stairs to the outside. My best bet was

10 get to Ernesto and regroup our forces. I'd lucked

out so far but there were a hell of a lot of them and

only one of me, and my luck might change at any

,noment.

Sheila was breathless and shaking. I wasn't sure if

it was from running or from the violence she'd

witnessed. She was still scared, but she frusted me

Fully.

We followed the downward slope of the passage-

way moving as fast as we could. I glanced along side

passages as we ran by.' Our luck held, we didn't en-

counter any more guards. Finally, we saw daylight

and the air began to lose its stuffness; I felt the heat

of the day swirl against the coolness of the tunnel.

Then we were in the open, exiting the temple and

breathing the wet heat of the jungle. I pulled up for a

second, scanning the clearing. There might be guards

in the trees, but I couldn't Spot them. The jungle was

quiet. Just to be on the safe side, we'd stick close to

the base of the temple until we were near the spot

where rd left Ernesto. I grabbed Sheila's hand and

started to run again.

We got two feet out of the doomay. I heard a

whisper of sound and looked up to see a huge net fall-

ing over us. I bolted, dragging the girl with me, but

the ropes snagged at my hands and feet as the weight

Felled us. Sheila tumbled with me, rolling and yelping

like a wounded rabbit. I clawed at the net, but it was

tough and heavy. Two natives leaped from a stone

'edge around the temple entrance and yanked the

rmds of the net together. We were snared as neatly as

couple of pheasants. They drew the net tight,

•naking it impossible for us to move more than a few

nches in any direction. Another guard appeared in

lhe doorway, and the three dragged the bundle in-

iide.

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NICK CARTER: KTLLMASTER

As we bumped along the passageway, Sheila clung

to me and tried to talk.

'What ... will ... they do?"

"Just stay cool. They'll keep you alive until they get

what they want from your father."

I hadn't noticed how blue her eyes were before.

Now, only inches from mine, they seemed to appraise

me and find me not lacking. "I don't want him to help

them," she said in a fierce whisper. "I don't want him

to be a traitor."

The journey had settled to a more or less smooth

drag. "He doesn't want to be, but he may not have a

choice. They'll find his breaking point. If it's not you,

they'll torture him until he cooperates."

She shuddered and clung to me, resting her head

on my shoulder to protect it from being bounced to a

pulp. CTIelp him please...

"Thavs what I'm here for but so far it hasn't been

easy. Can you tell me anything about the set up?

Where do the guards sleep? How many of them are

there? What about the woman, Maria?" I didn't know

how long we had and the questions rushed out of me.

She looked at me. 'There are several corridors and

rooms off the one where you—killed the man. I think

the soldiers sleep there. There are about ten or twelve

of them all together. I'm not sure."

"The others?'

"Liu has private quarters on the upper level, near

the lab. 'nie other one—Han—has a room there too. I

don't know about the woman or the men who came

with her last night. rd never seen them before. The

Indians camp outside."

"How did you get here?"

She sighed and bit her lip. "I was on my way to the

States for a vacation. My father had been ill and I

planned on being with him. Just before I left, I had a

cablegram from him—at least I thought it was from

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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lim. He said he was feeling much better and needed

change of scene. He wanted me to meet him in

Jerida, Yucatan. He said he'd booked a flight for me

md would have someone meet me at the plane. So I

ook the plane to Merida. A man met me; said be was

drive me to the hotel where my father was waiting.

tm not sure what happened next—they must have

frugged me. I woke up here, a prisoner."

"How long ago was this?'

She frowned. "Two no, three days."

The bearers halted in the large room where I'd left

the dead man. Two guards emerged from the shadows

and stood with spears ready while the others un-

Fastened the net and pulled us to our feet. One of

the men grunted orders and Sheila was taken away. I

made note of the direction they took her. One of the

guards tied my hands while the others held a quick

consultation. They seemed to have specific orders but

there was some question. They gesticulated and ar-

gued in low tones. From the direction of the lab Gant

appeared, a gun fitted with a silencer in hand. His

shirt was black and partially burned away. An ugly

burn on one arm had been smeared with some kind of

unguent. He said something in Mayan to the three;

the leader shook his head and tried to argue, but

Cant silenced him with a sharp command. He glared

at me with hate-filled eyes and repeated his order.

The Indians dragged me away, with Cant close be-

hind to make sure they didn't balk.

To my surprise, they led me back down the steps

and along the passageway to the outside. We moved

quickly now, with me half stumbling as they prodded

and pushed. Minutes later we were outside again, and

Cant was squinting at the jungle. One of the Indians

pointed, and we moved in that direction, Cant in the

lead.

The path was straight and had once been wide but

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was now half-covered with jungle growth. We were

on the opposite side of the temple from Ernesto's

vantage point, and he'd never know where they were

taking me—or had they captured him, too? I swore

silently and tried to get my bearings in the thick

growth. Birds screeched as we approached.

We came to another clearing—no, not a clearing. I

saw the deep pit, inky black with water below chalk-

white walls. A cenote, one of the deep sinkholes in

the limestone terrain of the peninsula. In some parts

Of Yucatan, tribes had sacrificial wells—and the sacri-

fices were often human.

They were planning to drop me into the dark

waters, Cant was going to see to it. The natives

seemed to have some doubt that I was worthy enough

to appease their gods. I agreed with them:

Gant produced several lengths of nylon cord from

his pocket and ordered the men to tie my hands and

feet. He grinned at me evilly.

"You won't escape this time, Carter."

"Mihy not just shoot me and get it over with?"

He laughed harshly. "Don't think I won't if you at-

tempt anything. Dr. Liu is trying to keep the natives

on his side—and they don't understand that kind of vi-

olence. Seems they'd rather drop you down there to

do your dying." He pointed into the depths of the

pool. "If you manage to surface, I'll be here waiting

for you...

He motioned to the men and they dragged me to

the lip of the cenote. The water was thirty feet below,

totally black as if there were no bottom. I'd read

about these wells; some of them were hundreds of

feet deep. A few straggly vines trailed from cracks in

the limestone and hung down to the water. If I could

get hold of one of them....

A sharp shove at my back sent me flying through

space. The water rushed at me and I barely had time

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ASSIGNMENT: nrrERCTPT

87

jackknife my body so I wouldn't smash flat on the

prface and have the wind knocked out of me. I hit

be water feet first, gulping air and holding my breath

s I plunged downward. I brought my legs straight

jut in front of me, slowing my speed until I could

hrust out my tied hands and change course. A swirl

Jf bubbles was white around me but gradually gave

gay to growing darkness as the water closed over-

lead. Then I was struggling upward, wiggling

adpole, trying to bring my face above water. It was a

of a long pull to the surface.

j I gasped for air and shook the water from my eyes,

looking around quickly to get my bearings. It took me

couple of seconds to spot Cant; by then he had the

gun up and was pinging bullets into the water around

me. I picked out a trailing vine almost under the spot

where he was standing and dived. I jerked through

the water, heading for the wall. I could hear the bul-

lets splat the surface but none came within two feet

Df me. Cant was playing a game, keeping me under

water so I would drown.

I kicked and propelled myself in awkward motions

until I almost rammed into the limestone wall; I felt

my way up, fingers clawing at the pitted surface. I

;till had a few seconds of breath, and I used them to

find the vine drifting on the surface of the water. I

grabbed it and brought my face up slowly, my body

bugging the wall. I resisted the desire to sputter and

gulp air. It took a second for my eyes to clear so I

could look up. I couldn't see Cant. The ridge over me

Formed a small shelf that cut off the view of the top

of the pit. I turned and saw the shadow of the rim

across the rippling surface of the water. Cant's figure

was clearly outlined on it.

I couldn't see any of the others but r heard a mur-

mur of voices. Gant said something and the arm of his

shadow moved in an impatient gesture. Then it was

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quiet. Minutes eased by and the surface of the pool

settled to glass. The water was surprisingly cool,

probably coming from a deep underground spring. I

stayed motionless, staring at Gant's shadow .. . walt

ing.

He stood there a full ten minutes. He didn't want

to take any chances this time. Then, apparently sat-

isfied that I'd drowned, he moved away. I couldn't

tell if he'd gone back along the path, but I stayed

where I was for another ten minutes before I moved.

I rolled onto my back and floated out in the water.

There was no sign of life on the path above me. Gant

was gone.

I drifted to the middle of the pool, looking for a

way out. ne walls were sheer, except for small pits

where layers of limestone met and had eroded over

the years. It might be possible to climb—if I had two

hands and two feet free.

I made my way back to the wall and caught one of

the so I could support myself while I tried to

undo the rope around my wrists.

guy who had tied them knew what he was do-

ing. I yanked with my teeth and picked with finger-

tips until they were raw. I couldn't budge the knots. I

tried sawing the rope against a protruding edge of

limestone, but the stone crumbled, showering me with

particles, and the rope was intact.

Swearing, I floated back out into the pool. If I

could find a long enough vine, I might be able to

climb up. If it would hold my weight. From what I'd

seen of the crumbly stone, it didn't look promis-

ing

I felt the shadow before I saw it . .. the figure of a

man standing on the rim of the crater. I sucked a •

into my lungs to dive, praying that I'd be fast enough

to elude Gant's bullets.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

I was halfway underwater before the realization

soaked in that the man was waving at me—that he

had no gun. And something about the figure was

familiar. I came up, shook the hair out of my eyes

and squinted upward.

It was Ernesto Malleu

I couldn't have been happier to see anyone; thc re-

lief was enormous, and I shook my tied-together

hands in the air in greeting. He motioned me toward

the side of the pool and began to shake out one of the

coils of rope we'd brought along in the packs. Hastily,

I •rolled onto my back and kicked out, paddling

toward it.

I twisted the rope under my arms then around my

fists, clutching the end tightly and tugging twice to

let him know I was ready. He began to haul me up

like a sack of wet cement. With the wound on his

head probably still bothering him, I was sure it wasn't

easy. I hobbled up the sheer side, trying not to jerk

the rope. VVT1en my head cleared the rim of the pool,

I saw that he had looped the rope about a palm bole

and was letting it carry most of my weight as he

pulled. I scrambled over the lip and rolled away from

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

it, panting and sweating. Ernesto hurried to me, glanc-

ing over his shoulder.

"You all right?'

I nodded. Thanks for dropping by... I shrugged

out of the rope and held out my hands so he could

cut the bonds. "One more little favor if you will."

He slashed with bis knife and I was free, tossing

the ropes into the well. Ernesto said, "I had to wait

till I was sure they weren't coming back. nose

damned Indians stood on the path arguing about

whether or not the gods would accept you." He

grinned at me. "You hadn't been purified."

I grunted. Ernesto was busy at the cord around my

legs. A second later he had it off and helped me to

my feet. I glanced around. "Did they all go back in-

side?"

He nodded. Tey don't know I'm still around. I

dug a fake grave back near the spot where we were

with my name on the headstone. If

ambushed . . .

they don't check closely, it may fool somebody for a

while."

"Very good," I said approvingly. "And now, with

me dead... e"

"Yes, it may give us a little leeway."

If Cant had left the pool he must have been con-

vinced I was done for. I knew he didn't share the In-

dians' reluctance to kill me by violent means if he had

to. Standing at the rim I could see his reasoning was

sound. No one could get out of that sheer-sided hole

without assistance.

Now I had to contend with the problem of Tasler.

At this moment Dr. Liu was probably using Sheila as

the wedge he needed to force Tasler's cooperation.

With his thought-policer, Liu would be able to tell if

Tasler was shamming, unless the thought-jamming

idea worked. But even so, it was only a matter of

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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defenses and get the fuel formula—I had no doubts on

that score. Then how much time did he need to ready

the warhead?

Time was squeezing me to the wall—and I didn't

like it. I had to do something, but barging into the

temple wasn't going to get me anywhere without a

plan—I'd already found that out the hard way. Did I

have a choice?

Yes—and it hit me with considerable force. I could

destroy the temple! Dr. Liu and Professor Tasler with

it—if I couldn't get them out. And Sheila too, if need

be, was expendable. It was a tough-minded way of

thinking but the stakes were high, very damned high.

I pulled Ernesto away from the pool area to the

shade of an overhanging clump of trees. "Is there any

dynamite in those packs we brought along?'

He looked very surprised. "No—I never. .D

"Damn,» I said. "Where can we get some?"

"Some?'

"A lot of it. Boxes of it."

He stared at me oddly. "In Merida, I suppose,

but--"

«y/here's the nearest village?" I hoped it wasn't the

remote outpost where Maria and Tasler had put in

with the boat.

"There's a small one a few miles south of here on

the coast. The coast is too rocky for water traffc, but

there might be a phone or radio."

suppose my expression said I doubted that. He

went on quickly, 'There's a retired archeologist living

there. He's been there for years. I'm sure he's got

some means of communicating with the outside."

That seemed reasonable. "Okay, let's see if we can

find it." Remembering the rough trail in, I asked if

we had to go back that way and Ernesto: nodded. I

could only hope that he was right about the relaxed

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We skirted the temple clearing in single file end

made our way back to where we'd left the supplies.

Ernesto dug out the spare Walther, a compass and a

couple of canteens, and we shouldered two -of the

packs, shoving the others deep under the brush where

they wouldn't be spotted. Then, with Ernesto using

the compass to replace Kayum, the guide who'd

deserted us, we set out toward the distant village.

It tcx)k an hour to reach the road and we met no

one along the way. I was beginning to believe they

considered us dead—the gods taken us both off their

hands.

One of the Jeeps was gone. The bearer who'd es-

caped that first arrow attack had probably figured

we'd never need it and had grabbed the fastest

method of retreat. By now he was probably back in

his own village, rich beyond measure by virtue of his

new mechanical possession. I cussed him out as we

cleared the branches from the other Jeep.

Ernesto backed it out onto the road and a moment

later we were jolting along the rutted track, heading

south. 'Ihe Jeep engine putt-putted along as if it

struggled with watered gas, but it ran, startling the

birds and brushing back the encroaching, green

jungle.

I asked Ernesto about the village.

"It's very small, a farming area. There aren't more

than a few dozen families, and the old man. He's Ger-

man, I think."

"VVhat do you know about him?"

"Not much. He's an archeologist who did a lot of

digging around these parts years ago. I heard he ran

out of money and got too old to do mueh more, so he

built himself a house and settled down to write about

what he'd' discovered and about the Mayan lan-

gunge—be thinks he has a key to it."

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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believe his name is Heineman or something like

't. He's well thought of."

I had filled Ernesto in on the Chinese Communist,

Dr. Liu, who was using the Casa del Balam as head-

quarters. "Any chance at all that he's in with Dr.

; "I doubt it." He frowned and shook his head. "The

old man's reputation is pretty straight from what - 've

heard. He wouldn't let anyone come in and use the

Indians without putting up a yell."

I hoped he was right.

The few miles turned out to be more like ten the

way we twisted and wound in and around; the road

had been laid out by a drunken villager on an equally

smashed burro, I was sure. Like water, it followed the

path of last resistance. We sighted the huts of the

town just as the sun dipped behind the lush jungle to

'the west and dusk crept in to enlarge the shadows

land paint them with a deep purple brush.

The village was a handful of crude huts made of

sticks and thatched like those in the tiny village

where Maria and Professor Tasler had landed. The

setting sun breathed fire into the fluffy clouds till they

blazed up in short-lived glory, then gradually became

mauve. The vast sea appeared almost blue-black in

the growing gloom. I could see no boats at all on the

marrow sandy beach visible to us; the toothy black

rocks that frothed in the booming surf explained why.

The shoreline here was steep and fringed with

dragon's teeth, as far as a hundred yards out, im-

possible for boats, as Ernesto had said. It explained

too why Maria and her crew had landed much farther

up the coast.

Ernesto slowed and drove past the cluster of homes

where chickens scratched and where naked brown-

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They ran after the dusty Jeep shouting and laughing

as dogs barked and scooted in front of us.

The archeologist's big house was a surprise I hadn't

expected. It was built on a small rise overlooking the

sea, with four-foot stone wall surrounding it with-

out any pretense of guarding it. ne wall supported

vines and flowers, a purely decorative adjunct. A wide

gate stood open where the wall met the road, and Er-

nesto turned in and drove up to the front of the house

as though he'd been there a hundred times before.

We were greeted by two dogs and a small child who

stared at us shyly as the dogs sniffed our tires and

looked us over.

The house was sprawling, one story, and seemed to

have been built without a master plan. It was adobe,

gray and weathered, with vines climbing its heavy

sides; the roof was flat with fake turrets and bell

towers adorning it. In all it had a curiously unreal ap-

pearance.

My eyes were quickly dra'vvn to a steel grid at the

end of one wing. A radio antenna spired into the still

I nudged Ernesto and he grinned. "He's probably

got a generator, too."

Nodding, I climbed out of the Jeep as a woman

hurried from the house, drying her hands on a huge

white apron which covered her huipile. She bobbed

her head, smiling and bowing us in, then ran to tell

her master he had guests. A moment later she re-

turned, hurling a torrent of Mayan at Ernesto who

said, "We're to follow her."

She led us into a large room that opened onto a

shadowy patio where a number of large yellow

candles were glimmering from clusters of painted

holders. reflected the still dark water of a large

pool, a very peaceful place, I thought. The woman

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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nesto's guess about a generator. I could see the room

t clearly—large, heavy furniture in the Spanish style,

hand-carved, with a patina of age on each. The seats

of the chairs were of woven sisal dyed in intricate

pre-Columbian designs. On one wall hung several

temple rubbings of Mayan stelae and a carved calen-

dar in a sunburst design. It looked genuine.

Everywhere were small artifacts, terracotta figur-

ines and bowls of various sizes. place was a

museum of Mayan art.

A wizened and fragile old man appeared on the pat-

io, peering at us. I said in English, "Good evening,

Doctor... e" Aren't all archeologists doctors?

"Ah—you are norteamericanos?' He waved us to the

patio, pointing to chairs. "Come in, come in." He

picked up a briar pipe from a rattan table. "I wasn't

expecting company. Such a pleasant surprise . . . we

have so few travelers in this part of the country."

I sat down gratefully, glad to be out of the

bouncing Jeep. The old man was bearded and dressed

in rough clothes, jeans and a checked shirt, looking

for all the world like a retired middle-class tradesman,

content to sit by a fire with his pipe. But his pale eyes

danced over us with the lively curiosity of an active

mind, a man who saw few non-natives. His accent

was definitely German.

We introduced ourselves, myself as John Franklin,

Ernesto as my guide, and the old man stood to shake

our hands formally and to introduce himself in turn.

"I am Franz Heineman," he said. "Once of the Uni-

versity of Mainz, and now a Mexican citizen by choice.

Tell me what happy accident brings you to our little

village?'

"We're merely looking into some reported archeolog-

ical activity in this area," I said, as the woman re-

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N'rctK CARTER : KILLMASTER

ed to pour but Heineman waved her away with a mut-

tered thanks.

"Activity? No, there is ,none.ø He seemed surprised,

looking from Ernesto to me. He splashed whisky into

three glasses, handing them around. "Are you of the

government?'

"In a way," I said. 'Do you still explore the ruins,

Doctor?'

He made a face. "I do, yes, but not like before. I

can no longer dig... He frowned. "Has the govern-

ment issued a permit?"

"No, that's why we're checking."

"Ah—l see. No, Mr. Franklin, there is no digging

that I know about, but—"

"But there is activity?'

"Of a sort—I am not sure what. As you know, the

Temple of the Jaguar is some distance from here and

for the most part I must rely on my friends of the

village to bring me news."

Ernesto asked, "Do any of the village men work at

the temple, Doctor?'

"Yes, I believe they do." He seemed disturbed by

the line of questioning, glancing at us then gazing off

into space.

"What worries you?" I asked softly.

Heineman sighed deeply. "This is a tiny village and

family life is important. I have heard that some of the

men have been away from their homes for long

He

periods. I have heard the women complain.

sipped the whisky. "It disturbs me when I hear

rumors that the Temple of the Jaguar is being

prepared as a center of worship being restored to

its former glory." He looked at us questioningly.

"It disturbs us, too," I said. I thought about the in-

tricate electronic equipment and the deadly, powerful

missile Dr. Liu was constructing. So Liu had conned

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ASSIGNMENT: ES'TERCEPT

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\ancient temple, in order to gain their support. That

'was why Cant said it was important for Liu to stay

on the good side of the Indians.

I leaned back inthe chair. "Tell me some of the

history of the temple...

Heineman smiled. "Yes, of course. It was built as a

'monument to the rain god, Chac. Our crops here-

about depend on rain as they did in ancient times. The

people believe that Chac sends them rain when he is

happy and keeps it from them when he is displeased.

The very essence of the Mayan civilization, as you

know, certainly."

Ernesto and I nodded.

"In this part Of the country, the jaguar was much

respected and feared ...

an animal that could tear a

man apart in a matter of seconds. To kill a jaguar was

the mark of the most talented hunter, but to kill one

also meant answering for the action before the high

court. The priests of the temple considered the jaguar

holy—the only living four-footed animal permitted in,

side thetemple, as a matter of fact. It is said that the

high priest kept a jaguar in an inner room of the

temple to guard his queen. It was treated as a god

second only to himself."

"Hence the name Casa del Balam?' Ernesto asked.

Heineman nodded. "Each year Chac was appeased

with human sacrifices in the cenote, and the holy

jaguar was presented with a human sacrifice in his

den. Without these rituals, the rains would not come

and the hunt would not bring meat for the people. If

the tribes had captured any prisoners, they were

offered as sacrifices. Otherwise, villagers were

chosen—a great honor, indeed. To have a member of

one's family selected to be sacrificed was a sign that

the gods favored the house."

He sighed and shook his head slightly, smiling at

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NICK CARTER: KILT-MASTER

glory in dying. It is said that one year the boy an

girl who were picked for the ceremonies were youn

lovers. They decided to make a by for freedom, t

flee the region. They had nothing to lose, of course

No one knows how they managed to escape but they

did, and they fled through the jungle. But the escape

was soon discovered and the guards began a search

The high priest ordered the sacred jaguar turnec

loose to join the hunt. The animal scoured the jungl

in a wide circle around the temple, ignoring the war

riors and guards. It is said he marked off an area—c

charmed circle if you will, inside which violent deatt

could not take place. Then as soon as the lover.

crossed the limits of the circle, the jaguar claimed hi!

sacrifice—the young man. ene animal left the girl un

touched but cowering in the bush where she wa,

found by the temple guards and brought back. Late)

she was thrown into the holy well as an offering

the rain god."

I was fascinated by the story. Dr. Liu was usinc

the superstitions of the Indians to keep Sheila

prisoner. I now had no doubt that when Tasler gav

Liu what he wanted, Liu would turn Sheila over tt

the Indians for whatever ritual they wished. If

didn't, he might find himself with a full scale rebel

lion on his hands.

Heineman drank down the whiskey in his glass and

reached for the decanter. "I have heard it whispered

that Casa del Balam is once again being prepared fo

the gods." He looked at me and at Ernesto.

do you think so?' I asked.

He shrugged. Terhaps I add my own suspicions tc

what I have heard—but something is taking place

there. The rooms are being cleaned and the altar«

being rebuilt . . .

all in secret. I have been in thi-

village for many years and I have ways of learning

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of the village men have been away for long periods,

as I said. The women are restless and worried be-

cause it is almost planting time, and the men are

needed in the fields. All the village will suffer next

year...

I said, "We think there are strangers in the temple."

"Strangers . .L. ?' Heineman grunted. His eyes puck-

ered in deep wrinkles and he sighed again. "There

was a representative from the Archeological Institute

who came here to survey the work I am doing at

Chavan, and who visited the Casa del Balam. But that

was several months ago. I have seen no other offcial

since then.» He made a gesture. Those in charge

wish to keep the project at Balam a secret. News of a

great discovery usually brings hordes of sightseers

and other would-be diggers and smugglers. Still...

A worried line etched between his shaggy brows. I

could see he wasn't satisfied with bis own explana-

tions, but if he hadn't been to the temple, he could do

no more than suspect that illegal activity was going

on.

It was better that way. Liu would make short work

Of a helpless old man like Heineman. It would be

easy for Liu to dispose of the archeologist and the

people would be told only that an "unfortunate acci-

dent" had befallen him.

I said, "You must be right, Doctor. The authorities

are conducting secret investigations at Balam and I

am sure you will be told of them in good time."

Ernesto wisely changed the subject. 'Do you enjoy

life in such a remote place, Doctor?'

Heineman smiled. "It is my life. I have my work,

such as it is these days, and my family. I am an ac-

cepted member of the community and the villagers

provide a great deal of help to me on my book. I am

doing a bit of writing on the ancient Mayan language,

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I urged him to talk about it and he launched int

an enthusiastic discourse on the glyphs and writing

of the ancients, his attempts to find the key to decod

ing them and reading the old codices. He was pursu

ing a course that he was sure would lead him to even

tual success. He had a great number of drawings ant

graphs that he showed us, spreading them on th

floor; we passed them from hand to hand,

the work and trying to follow his involved explana

Mons.

he paused for another gulp of whisky, I said

"Tell me, Professor, are you completely self-suffcien

or are you in touch with the outside world?'

He laughed. "But of course." He shook the decan

ter. "I still enjoy some of the finer things of life.

haven't gone completely native.?

Tou have supplies brought in then?'

alndeed, yes. Every month—or oftener in emergen

cies. There is a cleared area near the beach where the

helicopter lands. I use a radio to call my son i

Merida. He assembles what we need, drives it t

Puerto Juarez and it is flown here."

I said, as if surprised. "You have a trans

mitter!"

He nodded. "My son operates a station in Mericl

so we can talk whenever we wish. We also hear th

daily broadcasts from the northern cities...

I pointed to a large console. "And I see you have

music."

He laughed again. "What would I do without it!"

"You are very lucky, 'Doctor. You have all of th

blessings of civilization with none of its ills. I er.vy

you."

He nodded and refilled our glasses. I said, "There i.

one thing Ernesto and I need additional supplies

to continue our •ournev—l wonder if we miE1ht use

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"But of course. My son will arrange for them to be

flown in to you." Heineman stomped on the tile floor

and the dull vibration brought the Indian maid scur-

rying. He issued quick instructions, the woman

bobbed her head and retreated, slippers flip-flopping.

Heineman said, "I have another son living here

with me, John. He will show you the radio. He stays

at home with me since his mother died two years

ago." He sighed. "Sometimes I think they fear to

leave an old man in the wilderness alone... e"

no you have a large household?' Ernesto asked

politely.

"No, a few servants, myself and my son and oc-

casionally a guest. Far too occasionally."

I looked around as a short, sinewy young man

crossed the room and joined us on the patio. He had a

dark complexion and dark hair, definite signs of In-

dian ancestry despite a vague resemblance to his Teu-

tonic father. John's mother had been an Indian.

"This is my son, gentlemen...

We shook hands with the young man, introducing

ourselves, and he bowed, smiling to each of us, speak-

ing excellent English.

"John, please show our guests to the radio room.

They wish to send a message to Merida."

"Of course. If you will come this way...

Heineman said, "We dine in an hour. You must be

my guests."

We thanked him and followed John, who led us

toward an ell of the house. We walked past several

rooms that contained beds and chests of drawers,

around a hallway that had no carpet but was floored

with red tile. I had a chance to study the man; I

could see the questions in his eyes, but he asked none.

I judged he was about thirty, with a thin face and

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NICX CARTER: XILLMASTER

and shirt, and looked as if he might battle a jaguar

with his bare hands.

There was a large door at the end of the hallway

which he opened and stood aside for us to enter as he

snapped on a light. square room was filled with

equipment. The hum of a generator was steady; I

thought the sound came from outside the house. The

black control board of the transmitter, with its

gleaming dials and hobs, stood to the right; there

was a hand mike on the table near it and several

spare mikes on a shelf above. On the walls were the

call cards of hundreds of ham stations around the

world.

John moved to the transmitter and flipped the

power switch on. "You want to call Merida, gentle-

men?'

"Yes," I said. "Can your brother patch us through to

another number?"

"Yes, he has a telephone hookup." John sat on a

stool in front of the board and busied himself adjust„

ing dials, raising a signal then giving his brother's

call code. He repeated the code several times before a

voice crackled over the receiver.

John nodded to us. He conversed for several

minutes with his brother, then explained what we

wanted, mentioning that we were guests in the house.

When John handed me the microphone, I gave it to

Ernesto. Ile gave the man on the other end the num-

ber he wanted.

My brain was racing, seeking some excuse to ask

John to step into the corridor. He must have divined

something of what I was thinking. He smiled at me,

nodded to Ernesto and left the room,closing the door

behind him.

Ernesto got his contact and began to run down the

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enough dynamite and caps to blow Casa del Balam

and Dr. Liu and his equipment off the peninsula.

Dinner was a long, informal affair with Heineman

talking animatedly about his life work to his captive

audience. He apparently assumed we were as interest-

ed as himself in the subject of the ancient Mayas,

and gave us no pause.

I presented to him—I hoped—an expression of fas-

cination, but I let my mind' wander. According to Er-

nesto's radio conversation, the supplies would arrive

in the morning. Better than I had hoped for. Then it

would be up to us to get them inside the temple and

wired up, without being seen or detected.

I couldn't help thinking about Sheila and the way

she had frusted me completely when I pulled her

along the dark corridors of the pyramid. Somehow I

would have to make time to check the rooms,nake

another fry for hers

The dinner over, we retired to the rooms that had

been prepared for us. I was standing by the open

window having a last cigarette when I heard voices

outside.- They were low, almost seductive. I realized

the light behind me was dim so that I was unseen by

the window. Two lovers had evidently paused to ex-

change kisses. I was eavesdropping on a romantic in-

terlude and was about to turn away when the woman

laughed.

It jolted me. I ground the cigarette out and peered

into the darkness outside. I couldn't be wrong about

that laugh. It was Maria Fuentel

The voices murmured again, and I picked out two

shadows in the garden. The faces were pale blurs but

the two were obviously not strangers to each other.

ney were locked in a tight embrace.

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enough dynamite and caps to blow Casa del Balam

and Dr. Liu and his equipment off the peninsula.

Dinner was a long, informal affair with Heineman

talking animatedly about his life work to his captive

audience. He apparently assumed we were as interest-

ed as himself in the subject of the ancient Mayas,

and gave us no pause.

I presented to him—I hoped—an expression of fas-

cination, but I let my mind•wander. According to Er-

nesto's radio conversation, the supplies would arrive

in the moming. Better than I had hoped for. Then it

would be up to us to get them inside the temple and

wired up, without being seen or detected.

I couldn't help thinking about Sheila and the way

she had frusted me completely when I pulled her

along the dark corridors of the pyramid. Somehow I

would have to make time to check the rooms, muike

another fry for her.

The dinner over, we retired to the rooms that had

been prepared for us. I was standing by the open

window having a last cigarette when I heard voices

outside.ffhey were low, almost seductive. I realized

the light behind me was dim so that I was unseen by

the window. Two lovers had evidently paused to ex-

change kisses. I was eavesdropping on a romantic in-

terlude and was about to turn away when the woman

laughed.

It jolted me. I ground the cigarette out and peered

into the darkness outside. I couldn't be wrong about

that laugh. It was Maria Fuente!

The voices murmured again, and I picked out two

shadows in the garden. The faces were pale blurs but

the two were obviously not strangers to each other.

ney were locked in a tight embrace.

It shook me a little, Maria being here. Heineman

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NICK CARTER : XILI.MASTER

had never once mentioned another guest, nor had

Maria joined us for dinner. YVho was with her?

I glanced around, then climbed over the sill and

ducked into the shadow of the building. I was a few

seconds too late. ne couple moved apart with

whispered words and hurried toward a door. I caught

a glimpse of white pants and shirt as the man disap-

peared along the outside patio bordering the bedroom

wings. Maria stood a moment at the door, then turned

and disappeared inside.

I ran lightly across the stones and had the door

open in Mme to see Maria vanish into a bedroom in

the wing next to mine. I slipped cautiously into the

hall, easing the door shut behind me; I listened at her

door several moments then opened it.

Maria was humming softly as she pulled the white,

loose blouse over her head and I blinked at seeing she

wore nothing at all underneath it. She exposed

bronzed, naked breasts that a goddess would have

given a golden apple for. She stood another moment,

arms raised, body taut and head tilted, as if posing

for unseen eyes. Then she reached to unfasten the

colorful full skirt she wore. When it dropped to the

floor, she, was nude except for the thin-strapped

leather sandals on her feet.

She made a slow turn—and saw me.

Her face paled and her dark eyes went wide in as-

tonishment. I crossed to her in two steps and clamped

my hand over her mouth, pinning her to me so she

could not struggle. She sagged against me, still in

shock.

I said, "Now tell me what you're doing here, baby."

Her eyes were frightened but she was rallying, fry-

ing to hide it. She began to breathe hard and nodded

furiously, agreeing to my request. I let her go—gin-

gerly.

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"If you scream I'll break your pretty little neck be-

fore anyone gets here."

She eyed my hand, held close to her cheek, and ran

a pink tongue over her lips as she stared at me.

I said, Tou thought I was dead—that's a mistake

you keep making, you know. Now, what are you do-

ing here?"

"I—I came to see Juan."

Juan?'

ØJuan—John Heineman."

No wonder the figure in the garden had seemed

familiar.

Her eyes went hard for a moment and she looked

away. "He is in love with me, and I do not like to

sleep in a dark gloomy cell in a crumbling temple in

the jungle!" She pulled against my grasp and I knew

she was telling the fruth. 'Tle thinks I am a represen-

tative from the Archeological Institute."

'Did you know there were guests here?'

"Juan said two government men had arrived. fiat's

why I did not pay my respects to the Professor. He

would want to introduce us and I preferred—" She

shrugged.

"I,Vho came here with you?'

«No one. I am alone." Her eyes glinted like ar-

rowheads in the sunlight.

That I didn't believe. She wasn't the type to hack it

over long miles of jungle trail and drive herself along

those winding rutted roads. I began to wonder about

the purpose of her visit. Would she come all this way

for the reasons she claimed? Heineman hadn't men-

tioned that the Institute representative was a woman.

It was obvious that Maria had been here before; she

knew her way around, and she knew Juan—or John—

well enough to meet him in a shadowy garden.

One thing I knew, I couldn't leave her alive to tip

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

off Dr. Liu and the others. She saw something in my

eyes and backed off, frightened again.

"Nick—please!"

I moved close to her. Even naked, she would dart

from the room if she got the chance. Instead she

rubbed her lovely body against me and her warmth

seeped my shirt and the pressure burned my

flesh.

She whispered, "I haven't been telling you—the ex-

act fruth...

"Yeah?'

She moved sinuously. "Help me, Nick—please—"

I grinned and shook my head. She had a right to

pull out all the stops, to use anything she could. "It

won't work, baby. I can't seem to forget that hife

you had in your hand the last time we got cosy."

She ignored that. -"Nickl I have to get away." Her

eyes were round and childlike. is a madman. I

know now that I was a fool to believe him, but thaes

all past. Help me to keep it in the past."

'*Wthat brought on this sudden realization?'

"Don't tease me, Nick." She shook her head and the

dark hair fanned over tawny shoulders. She moved

back far enough to allow me to feast my eyes on the

perfectly formed breasts. "I am telling the fruth. Liu

promised to help me, that's why I worked for him.

But now I kmow he will Idll me when he's finished

with me—just like he's going to kill the others when

his plan is complete."

Some of that was hue, I was sure. GWhat did he

promise you, baby?'

She lowered her jet lashes momentarily. Mvmen she

looked up again a less wary man would have sworn

she was being honest, but I knew better. Maria was

an accomplished actress=and she was accomplished

at using men.

"My family was very powerful in Yucatan," she said

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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softly. "My ancestors were among the early rulers of

the country, descended from a line of Spanish nobility.

o Our home in Merida was a showplace for visiting dig-

nitaries. My great grandfather built it when he was

governor. My grandfather and father were aides to

later govemors." She looked at me, her eyes pleading.

gUntil my father was ousted from his post. His ene-

mies sought to, destroy him, and they spread vicious

lies, accusing him of corruption and theft. They con-

vinced the governor that my father was a thief—and

our family was disgraced. My mother died of shame

and my father is a broken man today."

I said nothing at all, wondering if any part of this

tale was frue.

For a moment emotion flared in Maria's eyes, but

she masked it quickly. "Dr. Liu promised to help me

regain what is rightfully ours, to make the name of

Fuente honored throughout the land once more."

I was skeptical. "How is he going to do this?'

"He said he would pay me very handsomely—

enough money so I would be able to buy up much

coastal land here in Quintana Roo. The region is be-

ginning to grow, and there will be power and wealth

for those who develop it. I want to give my father

something to live for again, to let him know the joy

of building...

And to let him make a fortune so Maria could have

the power she craved? It might be frue; it would be

like Dr. Liu to promise the sky and deliver nothing—

or only what suited his plan. But Maria was capable

Of fabricating the story entirely, too. I couldn't tell

how much of it was a lie. It was probably true that

any Mexican who bought up a great deal of land be-

fore development hit its peak would cash in for high

stakes ... if the timing was right:

I said, "So you were willing to help Liu blow up

half the world to make your father happy?'

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NICK CARTER : XILLMASTER

She shook her head and her beautiful body twisted

under my hands. The golden globes of her breasts

flattened against my chest. "No—I swear I did not

know what he planned! I had never seen the Temple

of the Jaguar. Liu told me he was going to excavate

it, make it an important site—like Uxmal or Chichen

Itza. %ere are many temples scattered in this part of

the jungle and it is believed that Casa del Balam was

the center of an important holy city."

'You're interested in archeology?'

She sighed and leaned against me, pressing her

weight to me and burying her face in my shoulder.

"Please believe me, Nick." She sobbed softly and be-

gan to rub her hands caressingly over the muscles of

my back.

I heard the sound of the door opening behind me

and whirled. But Maria was faster. Her fingers

clawed at my face, one fist beat on my chest and she

screamed with convincing terror.

John Heineman came into the room, stopped short

and stared dumbfounded for a second. Then he

lunged, head down a raging bull.

"He tried to rape me—oh, God, thank God, Juan—n

Maria kicked and scratched, trying to keep my hands

busy so I could not meet John's attack. She continued

to scream and yell as I shoved her roughly aside. She

sprawled backward over the bed, her tawny legs fly-

ing as she rolled to the wall. I had only a glimpse of

ber gleaming eyes as I devoted my attention to the

enraged lover.

I managed to avoid his head-long charge. He

turned quickly, arms flailing. He didn't have any

science to his fighting except to rush in and keep

pounding, but he was as strong as an ox. I kicked out

and thrust his haymaker blows aside. I didn't want to

hurt him unless I had to. He'd been duped by Maria

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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and undoubtedly believed himself in love with her.

He was attacking me in mistaken zeal.

He came at me again, growling and trying to smash

a fist in my face. I ducked and stepped aside, letting

the blow sail over my shoulder. He charged again.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flicker of

movement near the bed. Maria was gathering her

clothes, donning something—I couldn't spare the

glance to see what. She was getting ready to bolt, to

run for reinforcements or to skip out before I could

get back to her. She could return with Gant or her

other gunmen in minutes--

John, was crouching for another charge. I turned

slightly, feinting a left, then kicking out at his middle

and sending him flying across the room to the oppo-

site wall. The wind was knocked out of bim but I

hadn't put enough power in the kick to damage him.

I grabbed him as he rebounded and caught him with

quick slam to the jaw. His eyes glazed and he was

unconscious as he hit the floor.

I whirled, but Maria was gone, the door left open

in her wake. I swore.

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CHAPTER. EIGHT

There was no sign of her in the empty •hallway, but

I knew she hadn't gone far. And if she brought help, I

wouldn't have a chance unarmed. I doubled back

along the hall to the other wing and catfooted to Er-

nesto's door, pushing it open quickly.

Silently he caught up the Walther on the table

beside the bed before he recognized me. His eyes

held questions.

"Maria Fuente," I said. "She's here, and gone for

help. Let's move—fast!"

Without a word he shoved the pistol into his belt

and grabbed the knapsack he hadn't yet unpacked.

We slipped out the door at the end of the coridor

and paused in the inky dark just outside. Nothing

moved in the garden. We went along the dark wall

covered with reaching vines. Maria might have

brought a dozen men with her. Ernesto and I would

hide out at a safe distance from tbe house and wait

for the supplies in the morning.Ue had to have those

explosives.

Sooner or later, depending on how quickly he could

talk, John Heineman would tell Maria about our radio

call and the arriving chopper and we might have to

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ASSIGNNIENT: INTTRCEPT

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shoot our way to it—but that worry could be put off

Ell later.

Our Jeep was waiting in front of the house, and

there was a man standing beside it. I recognized the

stocky silhouette—Gant. I halted and touched Ernesto's

arm, pointing to the hood of the Jeep. It was up. Gant

hadn't wasted any time; he'd immobilized the Jeep in

case we got past him.

I squinted, the Walther ready, but there was no

way I could get a clean shot at him. Missing would

start a shoot-out that might have odds heavily stacked

against us. I motioned to Ernesto and we went back

the way we'd come. There had to be another Jeep—

Maria and Gant had gotten here somehow. We might

be able to find it before Cant spotted us, but there

was still the matter of the chopper. Morning was a

long way off.

A shot whined by us at head height, sending us

sprawling into the dirt. Two more shots searched us

out, one of them rapping into a tree very close by. Er-

nesto lifted his Walther but I pushed his hand down.

We'd give away our position—this way the guy was

firing blind. Two more shots shattered the stillness,

each of them farther to our right. He hadn't seen us,

only heard some noise that alerted him. From the

direction of the house, voices called out and lights be-

gan to go on.

Ernesto and I slithered through the weeds and

brush until we reached the wall surrounding the

house. We dumped ourselves over it unceremoniously

and lay in the dust on the other side.

Ernesto let out his breath. "Jumpy bastardl"

I agreed, and thanked all the old Mayan gods for

the darkness they had so thoughtfully provided. nen

we were on our feet, running, doubled over, gaining

the trees on the far side of the road.

"D'you think he's alone?' Ernesto asked as we

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NICK CARTER: KIT r MASTER

halted to survey the excited people milling about in

the yard under the lights. Someone was shouting

orders and people were beginning to move about with

flashlights and lanterns.

"No way," I said. "My guess is they came for sup-

plies. The stuff may be coming in from Merida on the

same chopper with ours. They'll have bearers to eart

whatever they're picking up.

"Wouldn't the old man have mentioned it?'

I shrugged, "Not if Maria and John set it up." Or

was the old man in league with them? Could I be

wrong about him?

I didn't think so. But I have been wrong before. It

would be wise to keep it in mind.

Beside me, Ernesto grunted, swinging the knapsack

onto his back and buckling it' More lights were

coming on across the road, and a half dozen men

were slowly moving toward us, fanning out to search

the road in both directions. A couple of dogs began to

bark and growl. I wasn't worried about the dogs;

unless they were trained man hunters, they'd make

noise and run around excitedly and accomplish noth-

ing. The men with rifles were something else. I

signaled Ernesto and we moved out.

He went first, walking slowly through the trees.

The Heineman house was at the end of the village;

the jungle closed around it abruptly but was less

thick toward the sea. The undergrowth was lower and

sparser and there were rock piles waiting to turn our

ankles. Ernesto headed toward the ocean we could

hear in the distance. At least on the sand we'd have a

point of direction to work from. lid had one taste of

suffocating green jungles and I knew it would be easy

to get lost, especially in the dark.

In places, we had to hack our way, leaving freshly

cut stalks behind. If they searched thoroughly....

Ahead of us the growth began to thin, and several

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minutes later I could see the hazy outlines of the

beach against the dark sky; the surf was pounding the

rocks, throwing veils of froth into the air. It was a

lonely, wild scene. The ground dropped away sud-

denly and we were sliding and scrambling down the

face of the steep hill that ran along the edge of the

sand.

Even at night the sand was white, a narrow ribbon

covered with foaming water in places. The jumbled

black rocks were all about us and marching into the

water to do battle with the thundering waves. There

were plenty of places to hide if the search came close,

if we didn't mind a little pounding.

Ernesto grabbed my arm suddenly, "Listen! I think

they're right behind us!"

Turning, I saw the lights bobbing along the low hill

a hundred yards away. Gant had headed directly for

the beach. It was as if he were reading my mind.

'AfVe'd better split up," I said. "Less of a target."

Ernesto nodded and took off instantly as I called to

him, 'We'll meet tomorrow at the chopper." He

waved.

I headed for a cluster of jagged rocks a hundred

yards down the beach, wondering if the two of us

were visible to the pursuers; there was some shouting,

but no one fired at us. A powerful flashlight beam cut

through the darkness, sweeping along the hill and the

narrow belt of sand.

They would certainly spot our footprints. Cant's

luck was phenomenal and I cursed it. I swerved to

run through the waves that would wash out my

prints.

ne light didn't hit me. I glanced over my shoul-

der; there were a dozen people scurrying on the hill-

side, scrambling dowtn. Voices shouted words I

couldn't make out in the crash of the waves. It was a

full-scale pursuit. Gant was going to run us down or

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NICK CARTER : KILLMASTER

know the reason why. I waded out into the surf,

looking around for Ernesto, but he'd disappeared in

the gloom.

Someone was running along the beach with the

powerful flash, playing it over the dripping rocks. It

touched me, and there was an immediate shout. I

stood out like a Christmas tree when the light hit me.

It wavered and came back, trying to nail me.

I slithered behind a rocky outcropping, drenched

by the rolling waves that burst with demon force and

tossed me about like a rag doll. I hung on as best I

could, hying to keep the rocks between me and the

shore. In the midst of the surf roar I thought I heard

several shots, but bullets were not my main worry at

the moment. I was afraid of being dashed against

sharp spines and crushed by the waves.

The water was warm and salty, though the slight

breeze let me taste the chill. There were larger rocks

farther out and I determined to make for them. Cran-

ing my neck, I had a glimpse of the shore. More men

were running toward the man with the light and in

minutes they'd be fanning out to grab me in their net.

I waited for the right second, then dived into the

water and began to swim. ne strong undertow

helped. It dragged me with express train speed

toward the open ocean and I had to fight it to turn

toward the distant rocks. As I snaked through the

black water, I wondered if Ernesto had headed back

into the jungle. I hadn't seen him since we began to

run, and he was loaded with the heavy knapsack

Heid never make it in the water.

In five minutes I came up to the rocks, clung to

them and looked back. A good sea was running and

the swells lifted me and dropped me like a chip Of

flotsam, but I was able to climb part way out of the

water, free of the smashing waves.

The lights were still searching, flickering and

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sweeping, ducking into caves, sometimes pointed

straight at me, but I was sure they couldn't see me at

that distance, unless I stood erect. I began to relax;

there were more rocks along the shore, far out. I

could probably swim from one to the other of them

all night long if I had to. So far I hadn't spotted .any-

one swimming out to search for me.

But what about the morning?

Then they'd pick me off, like shooting fish in a glass

bowl. Ergo, I'd have to get back to the jungle before

dawn. Gant might set a trap for me when the chopper

arrived, John Heineman would have spilled the beans

by then. I sighed and wished I had a cigarette.

I watched them search for more than an hour with-

out result. Ten or fifteen men with lanterns and flash-

lights spread along the shore, investigating all the

nooks and crannies the rocky beach held. Hundreds

of them. I wondered what Gant was thinking. He

must be frustrated that we were so close and he'd lost

us. I gave him another hour before he called it off.

He called it off in less than an hour, but he left

guards.

I watched the bulk of the men straggle back into

the jungle, lights bobbing and gradually disappearing.

On the shore, someone built a small fire and I could

see shadowy figures near it. I left the shelter of the

rocks and began to swim in slowly.. I came onto the

beach fifty yards from the fire and crawled to the

sand, sitting with my back to a rugged boulder to

watch and listen. There were two men at the fire.

seemed to be the only guards.

Satisfied, I got to my feet and made my way

towards them, darting from shelter to shelter silently.

I was sure neither of them was Gant, but I had to

take a look, just in case. I moved along the shadow of

the hill, approaching very close to the two. They had

found themselves a low rock to sit On and I could see

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MCK CARTER: MIXMASTER

the glow of cigarette hear the soft murmur of

conversation. Beside them were two rifles.

small driftwood fire leaped and sizzled in front

of them as they faced the sea; from time to time they

looked along the sandy beach, but from their atti-

tudes they weren't expecting anyone. Doubtless they

thought me long gone. They were Indians from the

village, from the look of them, maybe even servants

in Heineman's house. I considered Heineman's in-

volvement again. Was he part of Dr. Liu's plan? Or

had he simply fallen for Maria's story about being

from the Institute? More sophisticated men than he

might. What about John Heineman . . . ?

There was a chance that John had radioed his

brother, calling off the shipment. rd know soon

enough. Morning would answer that question.

Then one of the two guards rose to his feet. The

man was only a few yards from me, and he turned,

muttering something I could not catch because of the

surf, and walked straight at me. There was no time to

duck back behind the rocks. He was middle-aged,

slim and rather short. He halted only a hand's reach

away and stared at me in disbelief, obviously as-

tonished.

I moved fast, pushing him and kicking out with all

my strength at his middle. He went flying back

toward the snapping fire. The second man jumped up

and grabbed one of the rifles.

But I was already on him, diving like a trapeze ar-

tist and colliding with him as he swung toward me.

We went down in the hard sand, a tangle of arms and

legs. He was trying to work the bolt of the rifle, but I

slid behind him, got both hands on the rifle and

brought it up under his chin, sliding my knee up as

high as I could. I broke his neck with a snap.

*Ille first man had recovered and set off down the

sand at a run. I snapped a shell into the chamber of

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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the rifle, leveled it and shot him in midstride. He fell

into the swirling waves and was still.

It had all been done as a reflex action. I hadn't

stopped to consider that the shot might be heard in

the village and bring someone to check. Even if it

hadn't, the bodies would be found soon enough—by

daylight, or before, if Gant had' organized a patrol. I

was still buying time. I dragged the two bodies into

the surf, wading far enough so the undertow would

grab them and carry them out. Then I hurried back

to the sand, kicking out the trail of footprints I'd left

from where I came ashore.

I slung both rifles over my shoulder by the straps

and picked up a knife and flashlight that were lying

on the rock where the two had been sitting. Then I

eased back into the darkness, moving along the wet

sand where the rushing waves would obliterate my

tracks.

I found a comfortable spot in a niche of rocks a

couple of miles down the beach and settled in. I

dozed fitfully until dawn began to tint the eastern sky

and send probing fingers of scarlet across the

Caribbean. The water turned from inky black to roy-

al blue and aquamarine, flecked with white wave-

caps and darting gray gulls. Birds began to chat-

ter in the trees about me.

Stretching my muscles, I forced each to its limit

and relaxed it completely. I was famished, but none

the worse for the night on the beach. I'd seen no

other activity during the night but with daylight I

could hear sounds from the village. Gant would be or-

ganizing further search parties, but it was a different

ballgame now.

I wondered about Ernesto. Was he hidden close by,

watching? I couldn't take the chance of showing my-

self. Anyone posted on high ground would see me

and spread the alarm.

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NICK CARTER: RILLMASTER

Ihe countryside about me seemed peaceful and

quiet, and I began to wonder if the helicopter would

arrive. I wouldn't have much time once it was down.

I picked my way up the hill and began walking.

I was several miles from the spot where I'd killed

the two men last night, and I moved back cautiously,

listening for signs of a search hearing none. Had

Cant called it off altogether? It didn't seem likely,

unless he was convinced it was like looking for a

needle in a well. But maybe he had better things to

do than chase after me—also the villagers might be

balking at losing more of their number. I hid one of

the two rifles behind a sweet smelling bush; carrying

both was unwieldy in the dense green forest, and_ I

would•cheerfully have traded them for a machete.

But I managed, avoiding the jungle trails, making

my way back to a spot near the village by keeping

the sea in view to my left. I located a spot that looked

like the clearing for the helipad. It had no markings

of any kind, and it was deserted. I crouched in the

undergrowth, batting at insects, to wait. There was a

narrow track that headed toward Heineman's house;

from my present position I could glimpse the spire tip

of his radio antenna.

Nothing happened for more than thevo hours.

nen I heard the distant and unmistakable beat of

a chopper, a strangely mechanized sound in the un-

tamed jungle. I shifted position until I located the

speck in the blue sky.

It came over high, circled once and swooped, rotors

whooshing almost overhead. The wind blast rocked

me and sent dust, leaves and twigs flying, making me

squint. The whirlybird came down in the flat center

of the rocky area and settled as lightly as a magic car-

pet, rotors idling. The doors slammed open and two

men began to climb out.

A half dozen people were rushing from Heineman's

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ASSIGNMENT : INTERCEPT

119

house. A number of villagers straggled around the

pad, staring at the bird. Maria Fuente and Gant

ducked under the blades and ran to the arrivals. The

first man out of the chopper carried a small black

bag. Maria spoke rapidly to him, cupping her hand

close to his ear: In another moment he hurried off in

the direction of the big house.

I slipped from my hiding place and moved toward

the bird. I was nearly in front of it and had to circle;

it was a dozen yards away, a big "metal bug

completely screened in by the thick green growth.

The clearing was partly natural and partly cleared

jungle. Rocks and trees had been pulled back to en-

large it. I crossed the place where the debris had

been tumbled into a shallow dip. It was overgrown

with lichen and vines; the jungle was reclaiming its

The copter pilot, a young Mexican in fatigues, was

chattering with Gant as he began to unload the

machine. I worked the bolt of the rifle and left the

safety off. I stood up and walked toward them.

Maria saw me first and yelped, 'There he is!"

I leveled the rifle at her and ordered her to stand

perfectly still. I saw at a glance that Gant had a pistol

in his belt, but the pilot was unarmed. None of the

edging back now, were armed.

"Continue unloading," I said, watching Cant

closely. He was glowering at me with tight lips.

"You're a dead man, Carter," he snarled at me.

"You won't get away with—n

"Shut up," I said. I was close enough now to see the

controls of the machine. I could fly this bird if I had

I'd flown others. .1 glanced at the single card-

to .

board carton that had been unloaded. It was marked:

MEDICAL SUPPLIES and stamped with a medical in-

signia.

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I asked, "Who was the man who came with you?"

"A doctor, sehor,» the pilot replied in Spanish.

Maria said, "You hurt Juan badly, Nick—he's still

unconscious."

I smiled at her, thinking that this single fact had

undoubtedly been the turning point. If John Heine-

man had talked about the radio message the dyma-

mite would not have arrived. I could see the boxes

stacked behind the seats of the chopper. They had

called urgently to have a doctor sent out and in the

excitement no one had thought to ask about the ship-

ment that had been ordered.

"Your lovers have a way of winding up hurt—or

worse," I told Maria. I motioned Cant away from the

bird, a plan forming in my mind. "Back to the house,

all of you," I said loudly to the servants. I gestured

toward the pilot. "Not you."

Maria started toward me and stopped short when I

brought up the muzzle of the rifle. "Nick. she

said.

"Too late, baby," I said roughly. Behind her, Gant

moved quickly, snaking a Walther from his belt. He

shoved Maria, pushing her straight at me. I danced

aside as she screamed and fell full length in the dirt.

I aimed the rifle and fired. Gant's shot went into

the sky as blood spurted from his chest. I worked the

bolt and shot him again, just below the first wound.

The force of it slammed him back and he crumpled to

the rocky ground, face up, legs sprawled awkwardly.

nen for a few seconds no one moved. I sent an-

other shell into the chamber of the rifle and looked

around. The villagers had disappeared like magic.

Maria had scrambled to her feet and dashed headlong

into the brush. I spit a shot after her but missed as

she scampered like an animal on all fours, then was

out of sight behind the thick greenery.

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ASSIGNMENT: TNTERCEPT

121

I turned back to the pilot. He was staring at me, his

face white under his tan. I leaned to pick up Gant's

Walther and tucked it in my belt. I let the rifle barrel

swing toward the pilot as he clung to the edge of the

cockpit door, looking sick and scared.

"How much room do you need to set this thing

down?' I asked.

He wet his lips and coughed. "Twenty meters,

sefior.

'That's good enough. Any more medical supplies in

there?'

The pilot swallowed hard. "One more box, sefior.»

"Get it out." I watched him as he climbed up and

struggled with a box. As he set it on the ground, some-

one thrashed out of the jungle at the far side of the

clearing. I swung toward him and leveled the rifle.

Ernesto yelled, "It's me, Nick—don't shoot!"

I was very glad to see him.

He came up to us, eying Ganes body. "I heard

shooting—thought maybe you were in trouble,"

"It's all over now," I said. "We've got the dynamite.

Lees go for a ride."

The pilot was biting his lip, watching us both as if

he might be next to join his ancestors. I motioned

with the rifle, telling him to get behind the controls.

He jumped to obey. Ernesto and I climbed in beside

him, wedging ourselves into the tight space. I told the

pilot to take her up.

In another minute we were rising over the flat

green land, swooping toward the emerald sea where

the surf was still making lacy patterns along the

rugged coast. I glanced back to see Maria standing at

the edge of the clearing, staring up at us.

I swung open the door, bracing it against the air

pull with my foot, and aimed the rifle.' She realized

what I was doing and whirled, trying to flee. But she

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NICK CARTER : XTLLMASTER

was too late. The shot •cracked, sounding muffled by

the roar of the rotors overhead. Maria fell in her

tracks.

I pulled the door shut.

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CHAPTER NINE

The young helicopter pilot passed me his binocu-

lars and I scanned the swiftly flowing jungle below

us. We skimmed the treetops heading on a north-

easterly course. When Ernesto thought we'd gone

far enough we made a large circle, then another.

Even with the powerful glasses it took some doing to

spot the pyramid in the thick mass of foliage. The sun

glinting on the steel radarscope finally zeroed me in.

It took only a minute after that to pick out the clear-

ing a half mile distant.

Tere--" I pointed out the patch of almost level

cleared ground. "Put it down."

The kid looked at me as if astonished I could ask

such a thing. "The overhanging trees—»

I shook my head. "You said you needed twenty me-

ters. Well, you've got it. Land this bird." I waggled

the Walther pistol and he eyed it, biting his lower lip.

I suppose he kmew I wouldn't shoot him while he had

the controls, but I had just shot a man and woman in

front of him and he couldn't be positive.

He swallowed hard and began to circle the clear-

ing, inspecting it and picking his spot. The chopper

hovered, dust began to billow up from the ground,

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NTCK CARTER : KTLLMASTER

then he brought us in like a fly on a lilypad. Heid

been right to be scared. The long tree branches were

waving and hvisting in the updraft only inches be-

yond the flailing rotors. I had the door open by the

time the landing gear touched.

"Start unloading," I yelled, and Ernesto began

wrestling the boxes out to my waiting arms. I piled

them on the ground, keeping an eye on the nervous

pilot. He was jittery as a guy balancing nitro on his

eyelids. The rotors whipped the heavy air, whirling

dust about us and filling the jungle with noise.

WVhen the last box was down, Ernesto jumped clear

and I signaled the pilot to take off. He looked re-

lieved and wasted no time with goodbyes. One of the

rotors clipped a feathery branch as he rose, slipping

the bird slightly sideways, but no damage resulted

and he was airborne. In a few seconds he was re-

treating beyond the treetops. We heard him for a

couple of moments, then he was gone.

get this stuff out of the open," Ernesto said.

I agreed, pointing to a likely spot. I said, "I hope

we didn't make a mistake."

"YVhat länd of mistake?'

"Maybe we should have kept the chopper. We

might need a fast exit—n

He shrugged. "If anyone at the temple heard tho

chopper landing, theyll figure pretty fast that this is

the only spot within miles it could come down."

"Yeah..

. That had occurred to me. ney'd be

swarming all over us in minutes if that were so. "Ihe

chopper and pilot would be prize booty. We both

cocked our ears, but could hear nothing.

It was possible they were used to the delivery ser-

vice that passed over on the way to Heineman's place.

Probably if the Indians saw the chopper they? d think

nothing of it. And no one inside the temple could

hear it—too much rock between them and the sound.

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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I lifted a box of dynamite and carried it to the edge

of the clearing and stashed it in some thick foliage.

Ernesto did the same; we made it as fast as we could,

then tried to erase our tracks from the clearing. We

were hot and sweating by the time we finished, but

there'd been no indication we'd been seen. At least no

one had come to investigate.

Wiping my face, I peered in the direction of the

temple. nere was a path from the clearing; it would

be a long heavy haul getting the explosives the rest of

the way, but we had no choice. I could see that Er-

nesto wasn't looking forward to it either. I said, "I

suppose we should be grateful we got a ride this

far," and he grunted.

By now Dr. Liu might have tortured Sheila or

Tasler—or both—enough so that Tasler was cooper-

ating fully. Liu was playing for damned high stakes,

and the fact that Dr. Tasler's heart wasn't in good

shape wouldn't make any difference in the long run.

If Tasler didn't cooperate, he was dead anyway.

"Our luck is holding so far," Ernesto said, his brow

puckered. "You want to just walk in there and—"

"Not in these clothes," I said. I'd had a plan—a kind

of general plan based on costuming and a little the-

atrical makeup, things weid ordered from Merida

along with the dynamite. I fished out the package and

opened it. We had loincloths, sandals and headbands.

Dressed as Indians we'd have a slightly better chance

to enter the temple unannounced.

ne only thing that worried me was our height.

Both Ernesto and I towered over most of the Indians

we'd met. But there was no other way.

We stripped off our clothes and got costumed. "The

main thing," I said, "is to plant the explosives close

enough to Liu's lab. It's got to go up without fail." As

I said it, I began to realize how I was counting on

this toss of the dice. It was our only chance of getting

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NICK CARTER: RILLMASTER

him—and trying to stand apart and look at it objective-

ly, I knew it was one heil of a longshot.

"What about the guards?'

They'll be all over the place, but if they think

we're a couple of Indians, we may get past. It's dark

inside the temple, that'll help. If worst comes to worst

we'll blow the dynamite and take them all with us." I

looked at him. "Tiu's lab is at the top and there's a

ceremonial room almost underneath it. That's our

spot."

I was thinking that the Indians seemed to have free

access to the altar, and there was a lot of movement

in and out. A couple of charges placed along the wall

under the observation panel should do the trick.

Ernesto said, "M/hat about the girl and Tasler?'

"Mie'll make one all-out fry. Unless Maria or Cant

radioed, Dr. Liu still thinks I'm at the bottom of the

well; he may be careless about guards. But if we can't

get to Tasler and Sheila, we go without them."

Ernesto nodded. He'd been in the business long

enough to know there was no other choice. I dug in

the package for the makeup and handed him a tin.

"Okay, let's make me look like an Indian."

Ernesto's skin was not as dark as the Indians' but

dark enough to pass in the poor light. We set to work

matching my complexion to his. He uncapped a tube

of greasepaint and began spreading the stuff on my

back, working it in. I got busy with my face and

arms. It took about twenty minutes to bronze me to a

native hue iand another ten for Ernesto to very care-

fully paint blue marks on my face and arms like those

rd seen on some of the Indians in the ceremonial

room. Then I did his face and arms.

Ernesto said, "Let's cover the marks on the boxes

too He began smearing coloring on the printed

legends. I did the same, and we were ready.

I put one of the animal skins over my shouider to

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ASSIGNMENT: NI'ERCEPT

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effectively conceal the pistol stapped under my arm

with a stout thong. We each slung one of the dyna-

mite boxes onto a shoulder, and picked up a twelve-

Inch, curved-bladed knife that had come with the

*upplies and we set out.

The jungle seemed unnaturally quiet, but maybe it

s my edginess. One bullet into our boxes from an

,mseen soldier and we were kaput. Remembering the

revious encounters with hidden Indians it made me

nervous, but our best bet was to walk right in like we

elonged. If we were seen and our disguises pierced,

e could expect arrows at the throat or spears in the

elly.

Without halting or pausing we crossed the clearing

and entered the temple. We saw a few guards at a

distance—they glanced at us and looked away—but I

had the uneasy feeling of being watched. Leading the

ay, I tried to look like one of the brothers bringing

in supplies. Inside the temple, the cool air made my

skin prickle until my body adjusted to the change in

temperature. Ernesto stayed two paces behind me as

led the way up the long passage and steps to the

room where the guards had taken me—and where rd

left a dead man on my way out.

"When I approached the stelae I could see a guard

standing in the shadows. His eyes were on us but his

uttitude was relaxed. 'Ille light was blessedly poor. I

paused to transfer the heavy box to the other shoulder

•o it shielded my face; he made no move to stop us as

e went by. I could feel his eyes on us until we were

out of sight in the dim corridor.

A half dozen Indians passed us, some chattering,

none paid us the slightest attention—which was heart-

ening. There must be enough activity in the temple

and enough strange faces. I began to think we might

Dull it off after all.

ne altar room was not far. I glanced around, there

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MCK CARTER: KILL-MASTER

was no one in sight. I .pulled down a torch from a

wall bracket and turned off the passageway,-leading

Ernesto through the network of corridors, hearing his

sandals slapping the stones behind me.

The ceremonial room was empty. nere was no

sign of Sheila or of the priests who had danced

around her on the stone altar. I glanced at the stone

walls, checking for the panel in the laboratory and

feeling relief when I saw it was closed. Would Dr.

Liu have any cause to open it and look down into the

room? I hoped not.

I shoved the torch into one of the stone holders

shaped like skulls and motioned to Ernesto. Toncen-

trate on this wall. Liu's lab is just above."

He nodded and set down his box beside mine. To-

gether we felt along the wall for any crevices to shove

the charges into. There had to be no mistake—we

wouldn't get a second chance. The old temple had

been cleared and many of the old, crumbling stones

replaced, but not all. Ernesto found a seam wide

enough to put an arm into, running along the wall at

ankle height. It was perfect.

We opened both boxes with the twelve-inch knife

and set to work tamping the sticks into the seam. As

Ernesto packed the dynamite in, I followed him, fas-

tening the detonating caps and wires, then covering

them with dirt from the floor.

We used all the dynamite we'd carried in, stuffng

the seam with explosives. I brought all the lead wires

together and bared them, taping them and preparing

leads for the clock mechanism. Ernesto shoved the

empty boxes out of sight behind the altar and wound

the mechanism.

'Illow much time do we need?'

That was a question rd been turning over in my

mind. I knew we were stretching our luck to the

breaking point as it was. We had wetlked into the

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ASSIGNMF„xr: INTERCEPT

129

temple and gotten this far without any problems, but

someone could walk in at any time and start asking

questions.

If they discovered the seam filled with explosives

before they went off, it was all for nothing.

I said, "We need an hour, but we can't risk it. Set it

for thirty minutes."

He pursed his lips and whistled soundlessly. That

. not much time to look for

was cutting it fine

Sheila and her father and get us all out to safety.

I saw his questioning glance. "There's only one

place to look. If they re not there-2' I shrugged. No

matter how much time we had we couldn't make an

extensive search. Somewhere along the line someone

would get a good look at us. lö"hen that happened....

Ernesto set the timer and I attached the wires. We

needed just fifteen minutes to get ourselves to the

temple entrance, clear of the blast. I carefully put the

timer into the seam, then draped a bit of cloth over it

and said, "Let's go."

We ran for the open door, pausing to look back at

our handiwork. I doubted that someone could spot it

with a casual glance. The corners of the room were in

deep shadow, even with the torch burning. Unless a

thorough search was made the dymamite was safe.

A minute had already ticked away. I grabbed the

torch and held it in front of me, leading the way back

the way we'd come.

The guard was still in his wall niche, both hands

around a spear. He stared at us in the flickering light

and he seemed more alert somehow. Maybe someone

had chewed him out for his laxity. He frowned at us

as if suspicious at our return or aware of our unfa-

miliarity. As we neared him he stepped out, his face

and eyes demanding. Ernesto glanced at me and I

saw his hand creep toward the knife at his belt.

I waved the torch us if at something behind me and

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NICK CARTER KILLMASTER

babbled a jumble of • words. The Indian looked

confused. His mouth dropped at the strangeness of

the sounds, and his eyes followed the pointing torch.

Too late he realized something was wrong. I swung

the long knife from the floor and buried it to the hilt

in his belly, the point upward, gutting him. He fell

back against the stela, fivitched for a few seconds as

his life ran out, then slid to the floor and was still.

I whispered, "Come on," motioning to Ernesto and

sprinting toward the passageway where I'd been

dumped with Tasler.

How many minutes had elapsed? I hadn't dared to

wear a watch with my disguise, but I was ticking off

the minutes in my brain; I was sure that nearly ten of

our allotted thirty had gone by.

We turned into the small cell where Tasler and I

had been held. It was empty. I swore aloud.

Ernesto said, "They must be in the lab." He looked

very woried in the dim light. "But we haven't got

time to go up there."

I had to try. I had weapons now, better odds than

the last time I'd faced Liu. There must be at least fif-

teen minutes left and I wasn't about to waste any

more of them.

I ducked out and ran back along the corridor with

Ernesto calling softly but desperately after me. He

knew where I was going; he swore, and in a moment

followed, sandals slapping.

We came into the big room at a dead run, and

were surrounded before we knew they were there. A

dozen painted Indians and two Orientals with pistols

grabbed both of us. I slashed out at the nearest with

the knife, but they overpowered me in seconds and

stripped me of knife and gun, wrestling me to the

ground, thumping my head against the stones to stun

me into submission. It was all very fast and efficient. I

groaned and spat dirt.

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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They had Ernesto as quickly. He was staring at

me and I knew he was thinking about the time ticking

away. So was I.

Kim Han appeared from the shadows and motioned

the guards to bring us along. They dragged us down

the corridor and up the stairs to Liu's laboratory.

Doctor Tasler was working at one of the benches.

He turned when he heard the commotion and

frowned at seeing two Indians being manhandled by

their own kind. I could see the questions on his face;

he was totally puzzled, but there was something

about us that kept him staring. It took him a long

time to realize who we were. Only when Dr. Liu

came toward me, smiling, did he finally believe it.

Liu said, "Well, Mr. Carter, so we meet again. You

are a very hard man to kill."

I saw Tasler form my name on his lips in astonish-

ment. He had believed me dead. His hand shook and

he dropped a test tube to the floor then stared at it in

confusion.

"Livin€s a habit of mine," I said jauntily, in a tone

I didn't believe myself.

"So it would seem," Liu agreed. "But Rs too bad

you don't like it well enough to stay out of my affairs.

I warned you, if you recall, but you chose not to lis-

ten. Where have you been since our last meeting?'

"Go jump in the well, Liu."

He chuckled. "I wonder how you got out of that—

but no matter. Where have you been?"

He caught me off guard. A mental picture of Heine-

man's house and Maria's and Gant's bodies in the

clearing as the helicopter retreated flashed through

my brain before I realized what Liu was up to.

Desperately I tried to wash the memory out.

But he'd anticipated that too; he'd been zeroed in

on my brain waves from the instant rd come through

the doorway. Now he smiled and slipped the small

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

power unit from the thought-policer on his wrist. The

memory cell. One of the Orientals in a lab coat took it

and slid the cell into a computer while Liu placed a

fresh cell in the wrist unit. The machine hummed,

lights flashed in rows, seemingly at random, and a

printout spewed from a slot.

The man handed it to Dr. Liu.

Liu studied it and peered at me through narrowed

eyes. "So you have been to Heineman's .

. doing

what, calling for assistance? A helicopter would seem

to indicate supplies as well,"

With each comment he was studying the policer

and reading off my reactions. I focused my mind on a

vision of Maria's naked body, trying to jam my

brainwaves with the strong emotion of desire, but I

was a half second too late. He'd already gotten posi-

tive reaction to his question.

wonder why you two are dressed in this fash-

ion?" Liu said, looking us both over. "Did you bring

something into the temple?'

This time I had anticipated him—but Ernesto had

not.

Liu chuckled again. Heid already zeroed in on Ere

nesto's reaction. "So you brought in supplies—very in-

teresting."

"We came only to find you," I growled.

He ignored me. "YVhat kind of supplies, I wonder?'

He studied the wrist policer. Then his expression

tightened and he stared at Ernesto, apparently

alarmed by his violent reactions.

Liu lost his studied aplomb. He faced Ernesto

directly. "What kind of supplies?' His voice was hard

and sharp. He advanced on Ernesto and shook him.

"What kind of supplies?'

I could see Ernesto's jaw working, I knew he was

doing his best to throw the Chinese off, but I also

knew he couldn't help thinking—even in twitches

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about the bomb under us. How many minutes had

ticked away? Twenty-five?

Liu didn't know what it was, but he knew he had

something. He slipped the tiny cell out of the policer

and tossed it to a lab man who fed it instantly into

the computer. Ernesto was sweating, looking help-

lessly at me.

When the technician handed him the printout, Liu

came alive. He bolted from the side of the computer

and a staccato rush of Chinese ripped from him. The

soldiers at the door stared for an instant then turned

and ran, shouting at the Indians. They cleared the

room in seconds, except for two Chinese soldiers with

rifles who kept us covered.

His orders given, Liu crossed to the wall panel and

pressed the button to slide it back so he could watch

the frantic operation below. He had once again

composed himself to his usual inscrutability; his face

never betrayed a flicker of emotion as he stared at the

men in the altar room. He made no attempt to run to

save his neck—or maybe he knew there wouldn't be

time.

Ernesto gazed at me helplessly. CIHe read my

mind...

"It's okay," I consoled him. I looked at Tasler, who

was staring at me with fear in his eyes. I asked him,

Sheila?'

"They have her in the Queen's bedroom—down-

stairs."

Heineman had mentioned the so-called Queen's

bedroom where the high priest had guarded his wife

with the sacred jaguar. Where in the temple was it?

Liu turned from the panel and came toward me. s' I

am afraid I have badly underestimated you, Mr. Car-

ter. So you placed dynamite charges. Very drastic,

but then you are desperate. Were you willing to die

with the rest of us, or did you think you could still

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NICK CARTER KILLMASTER

perfonn a miracle and take Dr. Tasler out? Or does

his daughter alone interest you? Nognatter, this time

you won't live to fry again."

His face was composed but his voice was charged

with hate. He motioned to the soldiers who immedi-

ately summoned guards. Four came forward to grab

me again, pinning my arrns behind my back and

dragging me out. I heard Ernesto grunt as he was

surrounded and dragged out.

Liu spoke to Han. "Make sure there is no mistake

this time. See to it personally. Both of them."

Han followed us out, a Luger in his hand. He

growled commands to the guards and they hauled me

along, taking another route from the foot of the stairs;

the passage was similar to all the others except that

the rooms that opened off it seemed to be in use.

Straw pallets lay on the floors, a few torches were set

in all holders. I assumed these were the guards' quar-

ters Sheila had mentioned. But where was the Queen's

room?

They hadn't tied me this time, and Liu hadn't

ordered me shot on the spot' My luck, such as it was,

was holding, but I'd failed miserably in stopping Liu.

My plan to blow him sky-high had been aborted at

the last second.

Some minutes later we came to a huge stone door

and two of the Indians pressed their weight to it.

Very slowly it swung back revealing nothing but

blackness beyond. They opened it only enough to let

a man slide through, and as another guard held his

torch high, I saw the big stone loops embedded in the

walls. It was a prison.

Han spoke sharply, and the men holding me shoved

suddenly and I sprawled forward, stumbling, being

pushed through the narrow opening, then falling into

the room that was several feet below the level of the

hall. I fell face down in the dirt, smelling dung and

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ASSIGNMENT : INTERCEPT

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the sour odors of centuries. A rectangle of light

splashed over me from the torches as Ernesto came

tumbling in, landing atop me.

I shoved him aside and sat up in time to see the

light diminishing as the huge door was swung shut.

We were in pitch blackness. I heard Ernesto moan.

"Are you all right?'

"Yes, I think so," he coughed. "VVhere are we?'

I had caught the strong animal odor, a musky over-

lay to the stale air of the temple. A prickle of fear

lanced along my spine as I listened to the unmistak-

able whisper of sound that was coming closer. The

feral odor of a big cat hit me—and I saw the glowing

coals of its eyes. 'Then the low, rumbling growl seemed

to shake the thick stone walls, and I could feel Ernesto

shiver—or maybe it was me.

We were in the jaguar pitl

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CHAPTER TEN

The room had seemed totally dark at first, but my

eyes adjusted. I made out Ernesto's figure beside me.

I could feel a slow current of air that probably came

from somewhere above us and did not disturb the

stale smells at ground level.

I devoted my attention to the far end of the big

room. I could make out the darker form in the myriad

shadows surrounding us. It was about fifteen feet

away, low, hunkering, with eyes like twin pits of Hell.

I heard Ernesto catch his breath.

"Dios mioti he whispered. "El tigrer

éEl balam," I said.

Ernesto scrambled away, stumbling on the jumble

Of broken rocks fallen from the seamed and cracked

walls. The jaguar moved, silent except for its rasping

breath. I could hear it licking its chops. Now I Imew

the big cat had been starved, long enough so it looked

forward to a good solid meal with two main courses.

Liu's men had taken our knives and guns. I still had

Pierre, my gas bomb, but I couldn't use it in this close

room; its gas would kill us as well as the jaguar. We

had only our bare hands.

136

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I crouched and felt along the rutted floor for a

rock. It would do as a bludgeon, but would it be

3nough? The thought of hand combat against a hun-

gy cat was not my idea of sport.

Ernesto was muttering in Spanish, something that

•ounded like a prayer. I didn't blame him.

The jaguar stopped, perhaps puzzled by our

'ilence. I could imagine that other men had been

-hrown to him and had spent much of their time

He was sniffing the air, the mas-

;creaming, .

;ive head swinging from side to side, the glowing,

eyes staring at us.

"He's going to charge . . ." Ernesto whispered. I

Nondered if he was sweating as much as I was.

The cat moved closer and I could make it out

Illearly. It was a big one, at least seven feet long, in-

luding the twitching tail. The tawny deep yellow fur

.vas spotted with dark circles. I knew the cat was ca-

)able of leaping twenty feet and tearing a deer to

Jloody shreds in a matter of minutes. A hungry.

aguar was one of the most feared hunters in the

Western Hemisphere. Plenty of hapless wanderers or

unwary hunters in the jungle had become its victims.

The jaguar seemed to shrink to the ground, its head

Irawn back on the long neck, its long tail flicking

)ack and forth as he eyed me. The animal was silent

mow, and the silence was more ominous than the deep

{rowling had been. He was readying himself to at-

:ack.

I weighed the jagged rock in my hand and waited,

with sweat dripping from me, trickling down between

-ny shoulder blades in a small river.

I sensed the motion that brought the big cat into

Action. All I saw was a yellow blur launched into the

lir, coming at me like a missile. A hunk of rock that

!trnesto threw with all his strength smashed into the

aguar's head. Then the cat was on me, coming down

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTF.R

with huge paws outstretched to grab me and crusb

me under its weight.

But the rock had deflected the charge, maybe bhnd

ing the cat for an instant. I rolled and ducked away,

swinging my arm with all my strength. The rock

smashed against the jaguar's skull with a heavy thud

that shook my teeth, and the animal roared with rage.

The blow didn't stop him. He leaped again, landing

on me with the force of a bulldozer, knocking me

breathless even though I rolled. I missed the bulk of

the weight, but he covered me with his body and I

felt as if my ribs were cracked. I squirmed, pushing

and shoving, afraid that I would be crushed to death

in another moment.

But that wasn't the jaguar's way, He was up, claws

raking my flesh, mouth watering so that its hot saliva

seared my naked skin. I slammed the rock at his jaw,

and the cat moved off enough to give itself room to

attack again. Ernesto threw another rock, and an-

other. He was trying to keep the big cat off balance.

The rocks distracted the cat enough for me to stumble

to my feet.

A huge paw swiped at me as I danced out of its

path. I felt a sting as claws raked my shoulder, and

blood rushed down my painted flesh, but I had

evaded the full force of the blow that would have

been powerful enough to crack my skull. I scrambled

on all fours, trying to get out of range. The jaguar

roared—a terrible sound in the confines of the room—

as Ernesto hit him again and again with heaw stones.

The jaguar charged toward him for an instant, then

changed course and was at me again.

The creature was completely enraged. I barely had

time to sidestep before the animal hit. I had a frae-

tion of a second to turn like lightning and grab the

cat about the thick neck. I locked my hands together

around its throat and hung on, out of reach of the.

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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lashing jaws. The cat twisted, trying to throw me,

lucking its massive head and whipping its body, snarl-

ng and snapping the whole time. Ernesto dodged in,

mashing the cat with a jagged rock and swiftly re-

reated out of reach of the wicked claws. I was close

'nough to feel and smell the hot, fetid breath.

The cat swung again, rearing and hying to paw me

Iff its back, twisting its head as it tried to snap off my

.rm. I clamped my legs about its body, hooking my

eet under the front legs. I would have given any-

hing for the heavy jungle boots I'd traded for the

tseless sandals. I would have given more for a single

-nife.

The cat continued to roar and shake viciously. Er-

charged in and hit the jaguar as it reared up,

lamming a rock with jarring force into the animal's

nuzzle. He slid out of the way as the animal howled.

put every ounce of force I could into the strangle

101d, forcing the cat's head upward again and making

t impossible for it to open its mouth more than a

:ouple of inches. Ernesto smashed another rock into

he animal's head.

I couldn't hold the grip. 'Ille big cat jerked down,

Ilmost spinning me over its head, then up fast again.

'd seen housecats play with mice this way, jerking

hem, knocking them senseless.

My grip broken, I dropped and rolled before the

mimal realized I was gone. I'd lost track of time and

lirection, and I didn't dare take my eyes off the

aguar to locate Ernesto. The cat had missed me and

vas tuming, body pressed almost flat against the

Tound, his teeth, which looked a foot long, bared

2nd air hissing from his lungs. -His tail men-

Icingly.

I jumped, chopping with the side of my hand. The

•at sprang at me, but Ernesto distracted him again.

:arnesto was throwing very accurately, seldom missing

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MCK CARTER KIT..LMASTER

his target, driving the big cat into a frenzy. The

jaguar?s jump was too far to my right, but I was able

to chop at his neck, a succession of quick blows—

enough to kill any man, but they didn't crack the cat's

spine. The jaguar shook its big yellow head as though

bothered by a fly and snapped at me. I leaped back

almost fast enough—but not quite. The huge jaws fas

tened on my arm and began to close.

I screamed before the pain blacked my thoughts.

Ernesto lunged, using both hands to smash a huge

rock against the cat's head. I heard the crack of bone

and felt the sudden release of the fangs. I pulled

away and scrambled toward the wall, hands

scratching for a new weapon.

I could hear the crunch of the rock Ernesto was

wielding against the animal's skeull.

I steeled my mind against the pain that threatened

to black me out as the roaring, snarling cat turned

and grabbed Ernesto. He screamed as the cat

dragged him to the ground and began clawing him. I

lunged, beating at the animal's skull with a rock in

each fist; pummeling the hard bone between the ears

as Ernesto had done moments before. The cat seemed

to pause and stop clawing. Ernesto rolled free.

He moaned, and I knew he was hurt. He managed

to drag himself away from the animal, but he wasn't

through. Ernesto had guts. He came back with a thick

heavy wooden beam he'd found on the flooi and

rained blows on the eat's head.

jaguar was wild with pain, tearing at the air

and roaring. It slashed with bloody claws, turning

from one of us to the other. But it was slowing down.

It was stunned. The rocks in my hands were wet with

its blood and I could feel that its skull was becomin

pulpy.

Ernesto staggered ancl almost fell. I saw the wicked

tear across his shoulder, and his body was streaked

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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ith blood. "Ille big cat paced in a tight circle, trying

clear its head and zero in on us again. I backed to

e wall and darted to Ernesto, grabbing the big stick

om him. He was breathing hard, holding his palm

rer the chest wound....

I initiated the next attack instead of waiting for it,

oashing the cat's muzzle and making him back off

r the first time. I circled, telling myself I was on the

Fensive, that the jaguar was finished. The gleaming

aws and teeth said different, but the cat was dazed.

he terrible head wounds were taking effect, were

ving me a slight advantage. The cat was neither as

lick nor as sure as it had been.

Ernesto somehow found the strength to hurl an-

her rock. It caught the big cat on the rump, start-

ig him and making him whirl about. In that instant

sprang, landing on the jaguar's back, bringing the

stick under its neck in the same motion. Hold-

g both ends of the stick, I jerked back planting my

at the caes shoulder and bracing my weight

;ainst it. The jaguar tried to shake me off, but its

ovements were becoming sluggish and weaker. I

as cutting into its air supply. I pulled on the stick,

'ing all my strength, straining to force it into the

lick sinews of the neck. The jaguar was thrashing,

visting, trying to rid itself of the vise.

I heard the windpipe crack ... and the big cat be-

in to go limp. It fell forward and I went with it, not

tting up on the pressure. The cat dropped to the

and was still.

Ernesto said hesitantly, "I—I think you've done it,

ick—"

I rolled the jaguar over; a low, gurgling sound

une from the cat's throat, a few fivitches—then it

as dead.

I staggered to my feet. I was soaked with blood

•ad sweat, the cat's and mine, and I was shaking. I

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NICK CARTER: RILLMASTER

stumbled to where Ernesto was huddled against the

wall. "We did it," he said hoarsely. "And I wouldn't

have given a plugged slug for our chances."

I said, "Are you all right?"

don't know . .

I think so. That damned cat

nearly ripped my arm off. Dr. Liu is going to be mad

as hell," Ernesto said, and it made me laugh. It was

the aftermath of the struggle, I knew, but we both

began to laugh in sheer relief.

Then I looked at his wound. It was bad. Plenty of

raw flesh was exposed and the blood was flowing

freely. I applied pressure to the subclavian artety un-

til the flow slackened and I could check better. There

were several deep cuts but the artery hadn't been

torn. I had nothing to bind them with but the strips

of leather from our headbands. I fashioned -a crude

dressing and sling for his arm and we sat against the

wall, both of us beat.

Ernesto sighed, "Thanks, amigo. Now all we have

to do is figure a way out of here."

I grunted. I was glad there was no more light, it

probably would have discouraged us. Someone would

come, sooner or later, probably one of Han's men to

check our demise. Maybe then we could attempt es-

cape. I had made up my mind. I was not going to

leave the temple with Liu alive.

I said nothing to Ernesto. He had plenty to worry

about for the moment. If I could come up with a plan

it would be worth talking about. I had to kill Liu.

With him dead the entire organization might grind to

a halt—provided I got bim before he got Tasle€s

formula.

We leaned against the wall for a long time, resting,

getting strength back VVhen I finally stood up I was

stiff in every joint. Ernesto watched as I went to the

wall where the door was and began to feel around,

trying to find the crack. When I discovered it, I

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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mowed it around, determining that the door was

bout four feet wide and five high. But I could see or

sel no evidence of the mechanism that allowed it to

xn. No amount of pushing would budge it, and I

ave up after a few minutes.

Emesto said, "They may not come back for days.

Taybe there's water somewhere—at the other end of

me room.

I prowled in that direction. I found a stone basin,

amp, but empty. I wondered how they brought

rater in with a live jaguar loose in the room.

"Nothing," I said.

At that moment we both heard the sound.

"It's the door!" Ernesto said, struggling up. I ran to

le door and stood beside it, hearing the unmistaka-

le gritty sounds of stone sliding on stone. I felt with

fingers—the door was moving.

It moved very slowly, and as it opened several

IChes I could hear voices. Reaching down, I tore

Terre loose from my thigh. Pulling the pin, I lobbed

ne small gas bomb through the narrow opening.

I yanked Ernesto to his feet and dragged him with

ie to the far end of the room. I could hear the

eadly gas seeping from the bomb and filling the

tmridor outside.

We waited ten minutes. There were no soundk from

utside.

Motioning Ernesto to stay put, I moved back to the

oor. It was still ajar six or eight inches. firough the

rack I could see two bodies on the stone floors

I called Ernesto.

He came, limping, and the two of us muscled the

oor open enough to slip out. 'Ille gas had cleared

nd there were five bodies in the corridor, Han and

mr Indians. One of the Indians had a small blow

I.m and darts, and a small tube of clear liquid. Tran-

uilizer for the jaguar. There were two buckets of

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

water sitting by the corridor wall. They had come to

water the animal.

I picked a revolver out of Han's belt. We both

armed ourselves with knives, then splashed water on

ourselves and drank.

"Let's drag them inside," I said, "then there'll be no

indication what happened." The gas had left no

traces.

We hauled them and their equipment into the

jaguar's den, then closed the heavy door. Let Liu and

his flunkies worry about where Han and the others

had gone.

I lifted down a torch and we set off. Tasler had

said that Sheila was being held in the Queen's bed-

room, which meant she was close by. There was no

better time to look for her. I examined the pistol, a

Smith, and found it fully loaded with .38 specials but

no extra ammo.

We looked into every room we came to with no

luck The torch burned down to a nubbin and we

were practically feeling our way along the dank

coridors when we found it. It was at a corner of the

pyramid; a larger room than most of the others and

had long horizontal air vents high up on two walls. It

also had a guard.

An old man was dozing just inside the doorway. He

had a wicked-looking knife in his hands and I knew I

could take no chances with him. As I peered around

the doorway, there was enough light to see Sheila on

a pile of straw across the room, hands and feet bound

with strips of leather.

I crept close to the old man who was mumbling as

he dozed. With the heel of my hand, I chopped hard

at the base of his skull. I felt his bones crack like egg-

shells. He slid down Mithout making a sound. The

knife clattered on the stone floor and Sheila reared up

on the dirty straw, her eyes wide with terror.

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She saw two grimy, bloody Indians enter the room

Æter killing the guard. She would have screamed if

he hadn't been gagged.

I said, "It's all right—it's Nick and Ernesto."

She nearly fainted. She flopped back on the straw,

breathing hard. I cut the gag off and Ernesto quickly

slit her thongs. Sheila let the air out of her lungs in a

tremulous sigh, staring at both of us, hardly believing

what she saw.

' It's really us," I assured her. "Under all this mess.

Are you all right?'

She began to sob uncontrollably, and I let her cry;

it seemed the best thing in the circumstances. I

chafed her wrists to get the blood circulating. She

was still dressed in the toga-like short white gown

belted around the waist. On her feet, thin sandals

were held on by strips of leather. Then she lunged

toward me and fell into my arms, and I knew she was

wearing nothing else.

For a long moment the warmth of her flesh was

pleasant, and I thought about other things, and better

times, but Ernesto broke the spell by saying, , "We

shouldn't stay here too long."

Sheila sat up then and looked at us.'You're hurt."

"Scratches," I said. "Are there more guards?"

"I don't know—he was the only one I saw." She

glanced at the man's body and away.

Ernesto asked, "How long have you been here?'

"I don't know that either. They brought me in here

after they finished with me on the altar—" Her voice

broke. I could see the red lines of welts, and the thin

lines of blood across her back and neck where the

toga didn't cover. It looked as if she'd been whipped

with a fine cat-o-nine-tails. How long had it been be-

fore Tasler brought her relief with his promise of co-

operation?

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NICK CARTER : KTLLMÅSTER

"Can you walk?' She wa's unsteady, clutching at

me, but she made it.

"I think so. .. She looked at us, biting her lip.

"My father—have they hurt him?'

s€He was okay 'a little while ago." I didn't mention

the fact that he was working side by side with Liu,

but I was sure she guessed it. She was fighting back

tears.

"He thinks hess saving me."

"Let's worry about that later. Right now we've got

to get you out of here." As I said it I had no plan, alj

I hew was that they would come looking for her

sooner or later. There must be somewhere we could

hide her.

She was defiant. "I won't leave without him."

Tou have to," Ernesto said.

She pulled her arm from me. "I have to help him!"

"We'll figure something out," I said. "Leave the

planning to us."

Ernesto went to the doorway, dragged the guards

body to the straw and dumped it. I moved Sheila out

to the corridor.

She insisted, "Let me help, Nick, please! I won't get

in the way...

I turned to her. about supplies? Have you

seen anything—heard anything? Where does Liu keep

supplies?'

She frowned. "I saw one of the guards take some

guns into a room near the ceremonial room."

"Let's go." I pulled her along the dim corridor with

Ernesto taking up the rear. We came to the central

room and flattened against the wall; I looked around

the door, seeing no one. The room was empty. I

hoped Dr. Liu thought me good and dead this time.

Meat for his jaguar.

I led the way around the central room to the pas-

sageway on the opposite side. The silence was heavy

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NICK CARTER: KILLMÅSTER

"Can you walk?' She wa's unsteady, clutching at

me, but she made it.

"I think so... She looked at us, biting her lip.

"My father—have they hurt him?'

"He was okay a little while ago." I didn't mention

the fact that he was working side by side with Liu,

but I was sure she guessed it. She was fighting back

tears.

"He thinks he's saving me."

Let's worry about that later. Right now we've got

to get you out of here." As I said it I had no plan, al

I knew was that they would come looking for her

sooner or later. There must be somewhere we could

hide her.

She was defiant. "I won't leave without him."

"You have to," Ernesto said.

She pulled her arm from me. "I have to -help him!"

ewe'll figure something out," I said. "Leave the

planning to us."

Ernesto went to the doorway, dragged the guards

body to the straw and dumped it. I moved Sheila out

to the corridor.

She insisted, "Let me help, Nick, please! I won't get

in the way... s"

I turned to her. about supplies? Have you

seen anything—heard anything? Where does Liu keep

supplies?'

She frowned. "I saw one of the guards take some

guns into a room near the ceremonial room."

"Let's go." I pulled her along the dim corridor with

Ernesio taking up the rear. We came to the central

room and flattened against the wall; I looked around

the door, seeing no one. The room was empty. I

hoped Dr. Liu thought me good and dead this time.

Meat for his jaguar.

I led the way around the central room to the pas-

sageway on the opposite side. The silence was heavy

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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and eerie about us and every step we took seemed to

reverberate along the corridor, but no one came to in-

vestigate. The guards seemed to be concentrated else-

where.

Sheila pointed to a doorway and we went in.

It was the supply room. There were boxes of

foodstuffs, machine parts and chemicals neatly

stacked along three walls. In a corner we found a

cache of firearms, among them Wilhelmina, still in

her leather holster. Eagerly I grabbed it up and

strapped on the leather. I felt a lot less naked. I

tossed Han's revolver among the others.

Ernesto fished his Walther from the pile and

slipped a spare clip into his brief costume. I found

Hugo with a nest of machetes and knives and

strapped the stiletto to my arm. I didn't question the

fate that had led us to them. I picked out an automat-

ic, rammed in a clip and pulled back the slide to

chamber a round. Then I showed it to Sheila.

"Do you know how to use this?'

"I pull the trigger?'

"First you snap off the safety. nis is an automatic.

The safety is right here. When it's on it won't fire.

YVhen it's off it'll fire eight rounds as fast as you can

pull the trigger." I gave her the weapon and she

handled it gingerly.

I said, "Keep your finger off the trigger till you

want to fire, then point it straight—"

couldn't kill anyone." Her face was pale.

"You can if you have to." I glanced at Ernesto who

was listening at the doorway. "Is there another way

into the lab?'

She shook her head again. "I was taken the same

way every time."

'Tlow about the Indians? How do they come and

"I don't know. What're you going to do?'

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ASSIGNMENT : INTERCEPT

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Lind eerie about us and every step we took seemed to

reverberate along the corridor, but no one came to in-

vestigate. The guards seemed to be concentrated else-

where.

Sheila pointed to a doorway and we went in.

It was the supply room. There were boxes of

foodstuffs, machine parts and chemicals neatly

stacked along three walls. In a corner we found a

cache of firearms, among them Wilhelmina, still in

her leather holster. Eagerly I grabbed it up and

strapped on the leather. I felt a lot less naked. I

tossed Han's revolver among the others.

Ernesto fished his Walther from the pile and

slipped a spare clip into his brief costume. I found

Hugo with a nest of machetes and knives and

strapped the stiletto to my arm, I didn't question the

fate that had led us to them. I picked out an automat-

icy rammed in a clip and pulled back the slide to

chamber a round. Then I showed it to Sheila.

"Do you know how to use this?'

"I pull the trigger?'

"First you snap off the safety. is an automatic.

The safety is right here. When it's on it won't fire.

When it's off it'll fire eight rounds as fast as you can

pull the trigger." I gave her the weapon and she

handled it gingerly.

I said, "Keep your finger off the trigger till you

want to fire, then point it straight—"

"I couldn't kill anyone." Her face was pale.

"You can if you have to." I glanced at Ernesto who

was listening at the doorway. there another way

into the lab?'

She shook her head again. "I was taken the same

way every time."

"How about the Indians? How do they come and

"I don't know. What're you going to do?'

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I didn't know that either. I wanted to get Tasler

out, and I had to finish Liu and put an end to his di-

abolical scheme, but I had no real plan. If I could get

my hands on the dynamite again.... Liu had proba-

bly hidden it somewhere. It had cost him some tense

moments.

I went to Ernesto. "Is there any other way ' into

these pyramids?'

He blinked at me. "Well, we might be able to climb

the steps outside...

"Outside!" j I snapped my fingers. If Liu has a

missile launcher he needs an opening for it. I grinned

at Ernesto. Ä"AII right—maybe we can surprise them

from the top."

"We're two against dozens!"

"Come on," I said, "we've got to try."

We retraced our steps down the passageway and

across the big room, then down the steps and sloping

path to the exterior wall. It was clear all the way.

When we came to the opening I saw it was almost

dark outside. I scanned the clearing and the trees be-

yond, but there was no sign of activity.

With the stiletto in my hand, I led the way, sprint-

ing for the jungle.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

We made it unscathed. No bullets or arrows came

flying towards us, and no challenges arose; a few

birds seemed startled, but the jungle was otherwise

quiet. In a way I was surprised—surprised that Liu

had pulled all his men off. It made me vaguely

uneasy.

Sheila suggested an answer. "The Indians hold a

ceremony every day at sundown. They pray and do a

lot of dancing in that altar room in preparation for

the big holy days coming up—the ones where they

offer sacrifices to their Gods in hopes of a good year

for the crops."

"How long do the dances last?"

"An hour or more...

«Will they miss you?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I was only there

once, the first night. The preparation of sacrifices

wasn't part of it. It seemed to be a thanksgiving and

self-purification affair. Liu wanted me to watch so I'd

be frightened, I think. Indians were all painted

and God knows what the chanting was about. It did

scare me. That was before my father was brought up

here. I didn't know what they were going to do with

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

me or why they wanted me." She shivered and

hugced her arms over her breasts.

The sun was over the horizon, behind the thick

screen of trees, and the jungle was rapidly growing

dark. We made our way along the edge of the clear-

ing, just inside the fringe of trees to keep the temple

in view.

When we -reached the place where Ernesto and I

had cached the boxes earlier, we dug out the coils of

rope, our clothes and a few packages of concentrated

protein foods and the extra ammo. Then we set out

again before it was too dark. I wanted to get to the

other side of the temple, off this track from the road

and far enough from the temple entrance so no one

would stumble over us accidentally.

It was getting harder to keep the temple in sight as

we moved. With the darkening sky, the green vegeta-

tion that covered the pyramid blended with the

jungle and masked its shape. It would be easy •to

wander off at an angle and lose it altogether.

We cut back across the face of the temple where

the clearing and entrance were and found that the

other side was totally impenetrable, with vines and

trees growing in a solid wall right up to the temples

The air was cool with the sun gone, and I was glad

for the shirt I'd put on. My shoulder and arm felt hke

they were wrapped in hot coals, but the pain had

dulled to a steady throb. I knew Ernesto was also in

pain, but he said nothing.

A few yards past the temple entrance I paused,

sniffing the air. I caught the scent of smoke and

peered through the trees. Motioning the others to

wait, I crept forward.

The smoke was coming from the camp where the

Indians lived. There were two crude, oval-shaped

huts built of stick' and with open walls and thatched

roofs. Under one an old man was sitting hunched over

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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a small fire, turning a hunk of meat on a wooden spit

fashioned from forked branches.

I looked around, able to see little by the firelight.

The camp looked empty except for the old man. I

could make out a few rolled straw mats piled together

under the next hut—sleeping quarters. There was no

arsenal of weapons. Ernesto had said the Mayas were

a peaceful people, and I was beginning to believe

him in spite of how many times they'd nearly killed

me. They got worked up when Dr. Liu convinced

them we were a threat, that we were foreigners who

would disrupt their ceremonies and displease their

gods.

Silently, I moved back to Ernesto and Sheila. There

was no point in entering the village camp; it was bet-

ter to leave no traces of our presence. If we could

stay clear of the Indians and Liu's men till nightfall, I

might be able to get inside the temple again, undect-

ed, and locate the dynamite for another try.

Somehow I had to complete my mission.

Had they missed Sheila yet? With Tasler working

in the lab with Liu, they might forget about her for a

bit. But as soon as they found the guard dead they'd

know that something was up. The whole place would

go on red alert.

We picked a spot near the corner of the temple,

close enough to keep the clearing in view but far

enough so we were invisible in the brush. ne sky

was black, and the birds had fallen silent. The gather-

ing stillness was unreal andmnnerving.

I studied the temple towering over us, trying to

pick a spot to start climbing: The outer wall had once

been sharply chiseled steps, each about a foot high

and eight inches deep. The erosion of time had

crumbled many areas and spread the entire surface

with moss and lichen. Trees sprouted from crevices

where enough dirt had collected over the years to

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTF.R

support them. entire pyramid looked much like

a huge mound of earth that was a natural part of the

landscape. But it was a steep slope; a man might

break his neck there, especially in the dark.

Still, it had to be done. I had to stop Dr. Liu. Every

hour that Tasler worked on the fuel formula made my

job more imperative. Liu seemed invincible, but I

had to get him.

We rested, gathering strength for the ordeal, After

some time, we heard_voices. The Indians were return-

ing to their camp for the night. When the jungle

stilled to silence some hours later, we settled Sheila

in a sheltered spot near the base of the temple. I

wrapped a coil of rope about my body and slipped

small pickaxe into my belt. Ernesto shouldered the

Other coil Of rope; I could see the strain in his face.

I didn't know if he'd last, climbing the steep temple

wall, but I needed him and I hoped he'd hold out. He

was a good man and I liked him.

"Don't move for anything," I told Sheila. "Stay

put."

She said, "I'm scared... Her voice trembled.

I put my arm about her shoulders and squeezed.

"You've made it this far. Don't give up now. iVe're

going to see if we can get your father out. Keep the

thought; baby—you may get the vacation you came

for yet,"

She was fighting back tears, and she nodded

bravely. I smiled as she said the words most women

feel compelled to utter: 8e careful... She reached

up and kissed me gently.

I held her for an instant, thinking how lovely it

would be lazing with her on a beach with no thought

of danger around us. But that was for the future.

Even at this instant, I)rl Liu might be arming his

deadly missile, readying/ it for flight to—who knew

where?

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Sighing, I pulled away. be back by dawn—"

I motioned to Ernesto and we began to climb the side

of the pyramid.

Just looking at it, I knew it was going to be a very

difficult job. By the time we'd climbed ten feet, it

seemed impossible. Moss and overgrowth on the rocks

made them slippery as wet ice. For every two steps

forward we slid back three. My fingers were raw from

digging between stones, and my wounds had set up a

new raging pain as the torn muscles were put to

work.

We had to stop and rest every couple of feet. Er-

nesto was grunting but never complaining. He looked

pale and he was sweating I knew he had a fever. I

passed him the canteen. "Just sip it...

"Okay," he whispered, "I'm all right."

There was n note of desperation in his voice, like

he wanted to finish before his determination eroded.

We set out again, pulling ourselves up, backsliding,

pushing each other, squeezing between grudging tree

frunks, fighting prickly growth. I lost track of time as

we climbed and rested, panting—each encouraging

the other.

Then, as we dragged ourselves upward, Ernesto

grabbed my arm, "Listen!"

There were sounds below us. We couldn't see the

clearing but there seemed to be activity as more Indi-

ans returned to their camp, It was late and I won-

dered why Liu had kept them so long. Had he

renewed the search for us? A whiff of smoke and

meat cooking drifted upward and made •my stomach

rumble. My belly was plastered against my ribs.

The Indians in the jungle could not possibly see us.

We turned back to the task at hand, hauling ourselves

upward. Now and then aloose stone clattered down-

ward, pushed from its centuries-old place, but none of

them fell far. There was too much growth.

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

By the time we neared the top of theftemple, the

moon was well past the trees, I was sure we'd been

climbing for hours. Ernesto could no longer—hide the

pain; his face was contorted by it, and each •Sme we

rested he sat with his head down, breathing hard. He

had lost a lot of blood and was weakening noticeably.

Would he be able to hold the rope if I had to lokver

myself into the lab?

I could see the glinting radarscope above us, and I

followed its base to pinpoint the lab. A long slash of

light spilled across the side of the temple just under

it. As I got close I could see it was an air vent. I

glanced at Ernesto and put a finger to my lips for

silence.

He nodded and we inched toward the vent, lying

flat on the steep slope, crawling on our bellies. It was

a long, narrow opening covering about twenty feet

across one side of the pyramid. I was surprised at its

Size, till I realized Dr. Liu must have had the original

opening enlarged. It was about eighteen inches high,

reinforced with supporting stones at intervals of two

feet. There was no glass or covering.

There was practically no vegetation immediately

above and below the long vent; it had all been cut

back to assure a free flow of air. Raising my head

cautiously, I peered down. We were directly above

Liu's laboratory. There was n bank of lights below,

banishing any shadows in the lab itself but putting

the ceiling in darkness. No one could see us from the

room of the lab, looking past the bright lights. I could

see most of the room, Liu's desk and the computer

which he used in conjunction with his thought-po-

licer.

At first I thought the room was empty. Then I

heard Tasler speak; the words carried to us with re-

markable clarity. I peered and located Tasler and Liu

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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standing at one of the work benches behind a screen

of test equipment.

Tasler said, "I've done what you asked—now keep

your promise.

Dr. Liu was rubbing his hands together, as if he'd

just won the sweepstakes. He said, "Not so fast, my

friend. First we shall be sure the fuel works—

"You think-I would try to trick you?" Tasler's voice

showed his weariness and frustration.

"Perhaps not—but we will test the fuel just the

same. It is good scientific procedure." kle seemed to

me to be baiting the older man.

"It's not necessary!" Tasler said. "Good Lord, I've

done everything you wanted. Our samples proved out

perfectly, so now you've got the formula. You

promised to let Sheila go. I want to see her." Tasler

looked pale and exhausted.

Liu's face went cold and hard. Tou will do exactly

as I say. M/hen I am ready—" He turned away and

barked an order at someone I couldn't see. Four

Chinese in white coats came around to the work

bench and took a tray from the table in front of

Tasler. He made an involuntary move to stop them,

then sank onto a stool, completely defeated.

Liu looked at the old man contemptuously then

crossed the lab behind the technicians and pressed a

switch in one of the big consoles. A motor came on

suddenly and Liu studied a chart for a moment. A

platform near the ceiling began to descend slowly,

moving on powerful pneumatic arms attached to a

On the lift was a rocket-shaped object that glittered

in the brilliant light.

Ernesto sucked in his breath. We were looking at

Liu's missile!

I frowned, watching Liu stand with hands on hips

as the lift descended. His assistants gathered round

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NICK CARTER KTLI.MASTER

him. listening to what he told them. I couldn't hear

what was being said because of the steady noise of

the huge lift, but Liu was obviously giving them in-

structions.

When the lift stopped at floor level, the assistants

moved to the gleaming missile and began removing

panels from the tail section. Using electrically

powered tools, they disassembled part of the section,

working quickly and efficiently. Dr. Liu walked round

the missile, watching them, correcting here, pointing

out something there. When the panels were off, Liu

leaned over the tail section and supervised as the men

took materials from Tasler's tray and inserted them in-

to the opening. There was a large cylinder that must

have contained the solid fuel Tasler had developed. It

looked like a long, fat cigar, and hardly capable of

sending a rocket thousands of miles, but Tasler had

been very close to success with the fuel at the Cape.

It hadn't taken him long to perfect and test the final

ingredients and assemble the package . . . with Liu

monitoring him with the thought-policer.

A series of small tests were made, with Liu

watching the dials of several machines closely, then

making certain adjustments. After a short time he in-

structed that the panels be put back in place.

Liu looked like a well-fed cat. I watched him with

a sinking feeling. He'd gotten what he wanted.

MPhile the panels were being closed, I studied the

room. There were no Indians in sight, only Liu and

his Oriental assistants, and Dr. Tasler.

Liu spoke loudly to Tasler, "So—it is done. I

congratulate you, Doctor, on your timing: There is a

United States missile flight scheduled for dawn. YVhen

my missile follows its path and joins it, they will

strike the munitions depot in Hransk, and the Ameri-

cans will be blamed."

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Tasler was on his feet, "You fiend! Thousands will

die needlessly—you can't do this—

"I can, and I will. We have been waiting for this

moment for months. My government is ready, poised

for the signal to attack. Your foolish country and the

Russians will be much too busy fighting each other to

notice our border crossing. Russia will concentrate her

forces overseas, and it will leave her weakened on the

home front. By the time she realizes what is happen-

ing, we will have the entire land mass of the Eastern

Hemisphere in our grasp. And I will be Minister of

Defense! I will control the destiny of my country."

Dr. Liu was like a man intoxicated—his eyes glazed

with madness. But there was no madness in his logic.

It could happen just as he said. If this mis.sile got off,

there'd be no stopping the counterattack by the Rus-

sians, and the full-scale war that would follow. The

overt act would be a fact that no one could deny.

War would be automatic.

I stared at the gleaming length of the Thing that

would destroy the world. I didn't doubt for an instant

that Liu was about to do exactly as he said.

I had to kill Liu and make it impossible for the

missile to get off the ground. I might not be able to

damage the steel monster, but I could destroy the

men who had made it—if they didn't destroy me first.

Leaning through the vent, I tried to see into all the

corners of the room to determine where the guards

were, but I couldn't spot any. I'd have tm take my

chances. Turning, I motioned to Ernesto, then began

fastening the rope to one of the vent supports. Liu's

assistants were rapidly completing their job on the

missile panel.

Ernesto was beside me, still hard and fa-

voring the bad shoulder. I saw a dark stain on his

shirt where he had begun' to bleed again. Tle'd lost

too much blood already—I hoped he wouldn't pass

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NICK CARTER: KTLLMASTER

out. I whispered to him to take a good look at the

room. "YVe'll knock out the men at the missile first... e"

He nodded and examined his pistol. I could see by

his expression that he thought our chances were very

poor of stopping Liu, but Ernesto was game. He

would play it out to the end.

I had the rope tied and coiled, ready to drop. If we

could haul-Tasler up by it, we might get back down

the side of the pyramid before anyone could organize

pursuit, With exceptional luck, they wouldn't realize

how we'd come and gone. I was counting on the fact

that it would take time for guards from other parts of

the temple to congregate and to figure out their

moves.

Liu had moved back against the wall, out of range

as the technicians at the missile fastened the last

bolts. I looked at Ernesto, face pale in the ghostly

moonlight that now bathed the temple.

"l'rn all right," he said softly.

"Stout fella," I said, recalling Digby's words from

Beau Geste. I took the safety off my automatic and

aimed at the nearest man. Ernesto zeroed in on an-

other one.

I fired, and the man dropped, rollinc out of sight

beneath the lift platform. The other technicians stood

for an instant, mouths open in astonishment. Ernesto's

shot spun one of them around and he screamed. A

second shot finished him as he stumbled backwards

over a stool. Ernesto fired again as the others seat-

tered.

Dr. Liu jumped and darted for his desk. My first

shot smashed the desk in front of him, the second hit

him in the side and dropped him to one knee. He fell

out of sight under the desk, but I knew he wasn't

dead.

There was a rush of excitement at the door beyond

the work tables. Several armed soldiers rushed in, but

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

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my attention was fixed on Liu who was shouting to

them in Chinese, pointing upward. My shots made

him scuttle. The guards began firing past the bright

lights at the vent, which they could see only dimly.

Most of their bullets ricocheted from the ceiling as

frhey tried to get our range. I aimed and dropped one

of them, and Ernesto hit another before they dived

back for the protection of a workbench,

For several moments they kept us busy returning

their fire. I dodged along the long air vent, doing my

best to make it seem as if we were ten men instead of

two. Hot lead slammed the stone around us, chipping

bits of it and spraying us with sharp needles. One

shot came much too close to my head.

But we had the advantage in the long run, able to

see them much better than they could see us. For

some reason no one tried to douse the lights

. . . or

perhaps the switch was in plain view and no one

wanted to die that quickly. Liu was still shouting

orders, but nothing seemed to happen in response.

During a lull in the shooting, I looked for Tasler.

He was stretched out on the floor under a work table.

For a moment I thought he'd caught a stray bullet—

then he moved and lifted his head. So far it hadn't oc-

curred to Liu to shoot him—I hoped Tasler realized the

possibility and would keep his head down.

But Tasler was not stupid. I-Ie knew that whatever

the hell was going on, it was in his favor. He got to

his knees and began heaving flasks of chemicals from

the lab table at the bench where the guards had

taken cover. I didn't know what was in them, but

frøm the way the guards reacted it wasn't soda pop.

They jumped and ran. Ernesto and I got two, and the

last one limped through the door and disappeared.

Tasler kept up a steady. barrage of glass that shat-

tered like miniature bombs. I leaned into the room,

trying to find Liu.

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I got a bullet under the arm for my trouble. It

whined like an angry bee, stinging me. I caught a

glimpse of Liu, pistol in hand, ducking from one table

to another, trying for a second shot. I had to give him

credit. He had guts. I knew he was waiting for rein-

forcements which might appear at any second. Er-

nesto fired at him too, keeping him off balance. Then

Ernesto's gun was empty and he pulled back to re-

load.

For a moment the lab was quiet. ne smell of

burnt powder drifted up. I saw Tasler's arm come

back, then release n beaker that sailed up and down,

to smash behind a high table. Dr. Liu rolled into my

view for an instant, shouting something in Chinese.

My first shot hit close to him and he emptied his

pistol in my direction. His bullets struck all around

me. He'd fired too fast and in fury. I aimed carefully

as he lay on his back, both hands gripping the gun,

clicking the hammer on the empty chamber. I shot

him just below the chin. He jerked, flung the pistol

up; my second shot hit him between the eyes.

Wilhelmina was empty, but her last bullet had

done the job. Without taking my eyes from Liu's

body, I reached into my pocket for ammo and re-

loaded the Luger. Then I called to Tasler.

"I'm throwing down a rope. Tie it around yourself."

He stood. "Where's Sheila?"

"She's safe." I tossed the rope down.

He scrambled for it, glancing over his shoulder

toward the door. Something moved there and Ernesto

sent a shot slamming into the stone wall of the

corridor. I could imagine it ricocheting down the pas-

sageway.

Tasler got to the rope apd quickly tied it about his

body. I laid the Luger down on the stone beside me

and began to pull him up. He was heavy as hell.

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'Watch the door," I grunted at Ernesto. Suspended in

the air, Tasler was a prime target.

It seemed to take me forever to get him up to the

ledge. He scrambled over the stones with me and Er-

nesto pulling at him.

"My God, I thought you were dead! Liu told me-—"

"Liu exaggerates," I said.

Ernesto grabbed my arm. "Look!"

One of the lab assistants had dragged himself

across the floor leaving a smear of blood in his wake.

He'd managed about ten feet, from a table to the con-

sole panel of instruments against the wall. He was

pulling himself up to reach a bank of switches.

As I fired, Tasler cried, "Stop him!"

My shot crumpled the technician and he fell, his

hand clamped on a switch handle, his weight pulling

the switch as he went down.

"Oh God," Tasler gasped. Me's fired the warhead!"

I sank down, staring. A motor whirred and a dark

patch on the side of the pyramid began to fold back.

The launching platform on the floor was rising, the

gleaming warhead seemed to mock me. Liu was dead

but the object of his work was still alive and pulsing

despite anything I could do. The steel nose lifted,

pointing skyward. Now it contained enough solid fuel

to carry it halfway across the world, to accomplish its

deadly mission.

I grabbed at Tasler. "Is there any way to stop it?"

He shook his gray head. "It's an automatic system.

When the platform reaches the top it triggers the fir-

ing mechanism and the rocket will blast off."

In anger I blasted at the arm of the lift, sending

slugs that screamed from the steel without denting it.

Swearing, I scrambled sideways, trying to get to the

launch opening before the pad did.

I was crawling on all fours, doing my best to hang

onto the slippery rocks, when my body caught in a

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trailing vine and almost pitched me headfirst, down

the steep side of the pyramid.

Ahead of me the square of light began to narrow as

the missile came into the opening. Up close it seemed

huge, a blank-sided monster moving inexorably into

place with clickings and snappings as the mechanism

moved it ponderously, then halted with a shudder. I

was too late. I jumped back, grabbing the stones and

scrambling the way I had come. The missile ignited in

an orange blast' sending up a brilliant flash of light

that blinded me and lighted the surrounding jungle

like brightest day. The noise was only a tenth of a

Cape Kennedy firing, but it Hocked me back, filling

my head so I thought my eardrums would burst.

Clawing a hold on the side of the pyramid, I

watched,the missile whoosh skyward, leaving a thick

trail of smoke and flame. In moments it was far out

over the dark Caribbean. We had lost.

I groped my way back to Ernesto. Tasler was gone.

"Where is he?' I demanded.

Ernesto pointed to the lab. "He climbed back

down. -I couldn't stop him."

I swarmed through the vent opening and went

down the rope hand over hand, ignoring my wounds.

Halfway down I saw Tasler bending over Liu's body,

tugging the thought-policer from the other's wrist.

I yelled at him. "For God's sake, Tasler—"

"Get Sheila away, please."

"She yon't go without you!" I jumped off the rope

and ran to him.

"I have to try—"

"Try what?" Had the man gone crazy?

Tasler held up the memory cell he'd taken from the

wrist unit. "There was a flaw in Liu's gadget. It was in

continuous operation—he couldn't turn it off. If he

didn't clear the circuits to I reset it, it recorded his

thoughts."

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163

I gaped at him, the idea he pursued slowly percolat-

ing in my brain.

He said, "This should tell us where the missile is

headed—it would have been his last idea," He dropped

the memory cell into the computer and activated it.

I shook my head, not understanding. "What good

will it do us?" Behind me I heard noises in the pas-

sageway• The guards were reorganizing and coming

back. I reached for my Luger.

Tasler didn't bother to answer. He was busy read-

ing the print-out. Then he rushed to the control con-

sole.

I faced the door as half a dozen Chinese guards

came through. I picked off the first two, the others

stumbled over the bodies, firing at random. I hit an-

other and dived to the floor as Ernesto began firing

from above. It confused them momentarily, and I hit

two more as they retreated, shouting and firing

haphazardly. I yelled at Tasler to get down, but he

ignored me. A bullet smashed a table next to him but

he didn't budge.

Ernesto and I kept firing at anything that moved.

The guards shot around the door, trying to give cover

to charging men who were forced back as soon as

they rushed in. It was a fierce firefight for some

minutes, until suddenly the Chinese stopped shooting.

I had time to glance at Tasler working at the con-

sole. nen the firing started again, and I forgot him.

Someone had tossed in a grenade, but it landed forty

feet to my right—and went off with a tremendous

blast that shattered all the glass in the big room. I

rolled under a heavy wooden desk and covered my

face. The desk lifted several inches and dropped

back.

nen I realized that Ernesto wasn't firing.

I stared up ut the vent opening. / He was hanging

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NICK CARTER : KILLMASTER

over the ledge, his head and shoulders inside the

room. I knew at a glance that he was dead.

In a cold rage I fired at the doorway and saw one

Of the guards collapse under my bullet. Another gre-

nade rolled only a few feet into the room and went off

with a resounding roar. Someone screamed in the pas-

sageway—

Smoke was eddying in the room, heavy and acrid. I

had to get Tasler out quickly—sooner or later one of

the grenades would land too close....

I turned toward Tasler as a burst of rounds came

from the door. He looked around as if" he'd just be-

come aware of the shooting, and a slug ripped into

his belly. His eyes went wide and his mouth opened.

He started toward me, then crumpled to the floor.

"Tasler!" I yelled. I emptied the Luger at the men

in the doorway, seeing them flung back. The room

went quiet.

I got up, ramming in a new clip, hoping someone

would show himself. No one did. I ran toward the

door, still cold inside, boiling for a fight. I almost

tripped over one of them in front of the doorway. ITe

dead guard had a sack of grenades at his belt. I

ripped it off and looked around the door. pas-

sageway was strewn with bodies, but I saw a flash of

motion in the dimness. Pulling the pin on a grenade, I

heaved it along the corridor.

When it blew, I stepped into the conidor and

heaved a second grenade, farther. I would get them all

if I could. I threw two more, heard them •resound,

and waited.

niere was no sound at all, except the slow drip of

chemicals from shattered glass in the lab.

I turned and ran back to Tasler. He was still alive;

his face was white as his lab coat where blood hadn't

stained it.

"I'll carry you out of here," I said.

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ASSIGNMENT : INTERCEPT

165

He lifted one hand to his chest, ignoring

the terrible wound in his belly. "Heart—attack. There's

no ... time—get Shelia—" He could say no more.

"Don't worry about Sheila," I promised him. "I'll

take her back."

Hurry. .

"Dr. Liu's dead," I told him with satisfaction. "And

there aren't enough of the others left to make a fight*

Well be all right."

' . understand."

"You . .

don t

"Yes, I do," I said, trying to make him comfortable

on the hard floor.

"No—no time—" His fluttering hand tried to push at

me. "Go—quickly—

The desperation in his voice awakened something

in me.

He was fighting for breath. "Missile—m-m-"

"What about the missile?'

His eyes closed and his breath was no more than a

sigh. For a long moment I thought he'd breathed his

last, but he managed to open his eyes again and stare

at me.

"I—reset control." A long pause. %V1issile coming—

back."

My heart began to thud in my chest. Coming back!

Suddenly I recalled Tasler's explanation of Liu's con-

trol system that could deflect a missile in flight. "It's

coming back here?'

"Y-yes...

I stared at him. He closed his eyes as if going to

sleep and his face relaxed. He had no pulse.

I scrambled to my feet, brain whirling—the missile

would blow the temple to kingdom comel I raced

down the corridor stumbling over bodies and debris,

grabbing a wall torch, running down the stairs,

Wilhelmina held out before me. I didn't know if any-

one was left in the temple, but if I met them—

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

I crossed the big room. No one was on guard. I

raced down the stairs and into the sloping passage of

the entrance. In the clearing a small knot of Indians

stood jabbering and arguing about something. I fired

two quick shots over their heads and saw them seat-

ter.

My lungs were laboring when I reached the spot

where I'd left Sheila. She heard me shouting and

stood up, wide-eyed, trembling with a nameless fear.

'GW'hat happened ? "

I pulled her with me across the clearing. I had no

idea how much time we had—minutes maybe. Sheila

struggled, but I dared not slow down. By sheer force

I pulled her along, forcing her to run. She screamed

at me, "What're you doing? My father—I"

•your father isn't coming.

She tried to turn, to get away from me. I grabbed

her arms, shoving her, yelling in her ear, 'Me's dead!

And we will be too if you don't run!"

nat shocked her. She let me drag her along, say-

ing nothing. When I risked a glance at her face I saw

she was crying. She knew I was telling the truth, and

she was frightened. We ran as hard as we could.

iVe were back to the path that led to the temple. It

—was dark and we had to slow to make sure of our way

with the torch. We passed the spot where Ernesto and

I had hidden the boxes of supplies, and I was on

surer ground. We loped along as fast asthe rough

trail would allow. I kept looking back over my shoul-

der, wondering if I would be able to see the returning

missile. The smoke and flame from the torch sent

fingers of light into the surrounding greenery, making

the shadows deep and more treacherous. Several

times we almost sprawled into thickets when the path

veered sharply and I didn't see it in time. Sheila was

like an automaton—moving- with me at command.

Things had come too fast foÅer.

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ASSIGNMENT: INTERCEPT

167

When we reached the clearing where the chopper

had landed, she was winded, gasping for air, and try-

ing to sink to the ground in exhaustion. She could go

no farther.

I peered into the night sky and thought I saw a dis-

tant fiery trail, like the tail of a comet. Maybe my

imagination was working overtime, but I didn't wait

to find out. Grabbing Sheila up, I ran for the brush

and stumbled into the green tangle. We crashed

through the dense undergrowth and tumbled to the

ground. I struggled to shield her with my body.

The explosion lighted the sky and roared into the

night. The ground seemed to heave like an earth-

quake. Sheila screamed as I grabbed her and covered

her with my body. Flames shot skyward as though a

mighty volcano had let loose. Before the sound of the

first blast died away there were more, a half dozen

smaller explosions blended into the cacophony of

noise. The dynamite.

Bits of rock and debris began to rain down, large

rocks crashing through the foliage. I covered my head

with my arms and hugged her. I could smell the acrid

smoke and the choking dust that rolled toward and

over us.

It seemed like hours before the sounds receded and

I lifted my head. I could see nothing at all but

blackness. Between me and the stars, a pall of smoke

drifted.

"Are you all right?' I lifted Sheila and held her.

She nodded, clinging to me, sobbing against my

bloodied shirt.

I let her sit for a time, then we got up and moved

slowly and carefully back toward the clearing. The

torch rd dropped was still glowing. I whirled it

around my head and it blazed up again. Sheila stared

toward the still burning mound where the temple had

been. Tears coursed down her dusty cheeks.

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NICK CARTER KILL-MASTER

I told her what had happened inside the lab. "Your

father programmed the missile to destroy the temple.

He saved a lot of people from certain destruction...

She sighed and nodded, biting her lip. I couldn't

tell if she comprehended it all now.

Me asked me to take you back, away from here. It

was his last request."

She looked at me in the night. "How did he die?'

I didn't lie to her. "A bullet and a heart attack. He

was in very little pain. He went peacefully."

She fell against me. Take me out of here, Nick."

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CHAPTER TWELVE

Hawk flew to Merida to make sure the international

aspects were taken care of. One of the first things he

asked me when I greeted him at the airport was,

"What happened to Liu's thought-policer?'

"It went up with Liu and the rest of the temple."

Ile sighed, disappointed. "I feared as much. Too

bad."

"Listen, the world is better off without it."

He grunted. "Perhaps perhaps."

We took a car from the airport. I'd left Sheila at

the hotel and I wanted to get back to her as soon as

possible, but Hawk kept me answering questions for

an hour when we got to his room. He's never really

satisfied until everything is laid out in perfect order

for his precision mind. I went over it again, carefully.

He said, "We're going to have a devil of a time if

the Mexican government gets sticky about that

temple...

I asked him about the Cape.

'CWe found the man who was assigned to monitor

Tasler2s work. He was an agent who'd been planted

several years ago." He went on to tell me how they'd

isolated the suspect. "UnfortunateIy, he destroyed the

169

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NICK CARTER : KILT-MASTER

thought-policing unit as our boys closed Hawk

sighed heavily. "Maybe itis better that way."

I took Sheila to Cancun, a beautiful island off the

eastern coast of the peninsula. My wounds were

healing nicely and I was ready to enjoy the sun and

air—and peace. Very gradually, Sheila was losing the

deep hurt in her eyes.

We bicycled along narrow roads, found ourselves a

golden beach with no other people within miles and

stripped to the buff. We swam and sunned ourselves,

and when I reached out and drew her close to me,

she was anything but the sad, frightened girl of the

jungle.

"I never thought there was this side to you," she

said.

I grinned at her. GWhat do you mean?"

"You were so terribly efficient with guns and knives

and things. It never occurred to me that you could

stand still for a half hour...

I rolled to her and stared into her deep blue eyes.

"Woman, you have a lot to learn."

She smiled, and I saw the answers I wanted in her

eyes.

I took her into my arms and we kissed, the surf

washing over us. Gulls wheeled overhead in the azure

sky—and not a single monster reared out of the sea to

Slash at me. I forgot all about mundane things like

temples and bloody spears and concentrated on

Sheila.

More than enough to fill my mind.

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