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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
7
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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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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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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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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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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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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
43
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
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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.
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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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MCK CARTER: KILLMASI'ER
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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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?'
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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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'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
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'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
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{'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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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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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER
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
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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
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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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\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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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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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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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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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
110
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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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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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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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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
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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
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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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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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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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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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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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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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"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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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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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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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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15.3
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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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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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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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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