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Школа кожевенного мастерства: сумки, ремни своими руками

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70 NICK CARTER: AMIN, AAT I. R pile of garbage. Bottles and cans clattered. His hand came up. I dove, heard the muffled thowwick of the silencer, like a cork popping. I rolled as I hit We ground. There was another thowwkk. Sparks flew from the cobblestone alongside my head as I came up with Wilhelmina. I was on my belly when I snapped off my Best shot, the roar shattering the silence. My second shot was in. He spun drunkenly, his hands clutching his throat. He dropped face down. The bullet had tom open his throat, severing his jugular, and he was probably dead by the time I reached him: or would be soon. There was no time for a search. Windows began popping open and lights flared on. Shouts began to break out. I swept up his fallen gun, dropped it into my pocket and took off. The one thing I didn't need was to be picked up by the local fua. I pounded through the alley, hot broke into a walk just before corning out the far side into a wide street. blended into the crowd, and two blocks further on I picked up a cab. I gave the driver the name of my ho-tel and instructed him to drop me off at the side en-trance. Ten minutes later we arrived and I took the semi. elevator to my floor. Once I was m my mom. with the door locked. I got out the gun. It was a Roger .4/ single-action revolver with a four-and-a-balf-inch barrel_ I unscrewed the mounted silencer and checked the remaining bullets. They were soft-nosed, the kind that mushrooms on contact. It's the preferred choice of professional assassins since they can rip a hole W a victim's body the size of a billiard ball. I used a few sheet of newspaper to wrap the gun and after tying the bundle securely I rang room service. I really needed a drink. When it arrived, I tipped the bellhop, Hocked the door and settled back. I sipped at the scotch slowly and thoughtfully.

It Whoever had dispatched the hatchet man would be dis-appointed. But where there had been onc there could be others. Them was no way my getting around it. Ob-viously, someone wanted me dead in a very bad way.

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CHAPTER 9

At eighteen thousand feet the Adriatic looked like a shimmering blue scarf beneath a thin layer of scattered clouds. We were about two-and-a-half hours into our flight and the two pretty Yugoslavian stewardesses moved briskly down the aisle, gathering up the last of the coffee cups and stacking them on plastic trays, I glanced at my watch. It was about twenty minutes 50 touchdown. So far the flight had been strictly routine. During the drive to Beirut's international airport that morning. I tamed frequently to look out the cab's rear window, but sew nothing to make me suspicious that I had picked up another tad. Before boarding the OAT DC-3 for Dubrovnik I had managed to get rid of the wrapped silencer by dropping it into one of the air-port's litter baskets. Once aboard, I scanned my fellow passengers and they looked fairly typical, some businessmen carrying attache cases, a few families and a clutch of German tourists. After takeoff I settled back and relaxed, at least up 72

73 to a point. Right then I was fairly certain that whoever had tried to nail me in the alley the night before hadn't been put.up to it by Korla. It simply didn't wash. Soria wanted his five million in a bad way, and without me he'd be out of the money. So if it wasn't Keels, then who? Like most questions, it raised interesting specula-tions. Of course, the Russians couldn't be ruled out. By now they'd be pretty determined to locate Salobin, and if they had gotten on to Karla, and tied me in with him, it figured they could've sent one of their hired guns after me. But there were other possibilities. bet example, Keels may have fed me a pack of lien. Maybe Rafai had never worked for him. And if Rafai had been tied in with someone else, and Karla got wind of it, he may have simply muscled in on the hope of collecting big. In fact, at this point I couldn't even be sure he had Salobin. The his man who took my bul-let in his throat could have been a member of a rival faction after the same prize. Likely? Maybe. Boa I couldn't be sure. I was still kicking these and other przwibilities back and forth when the DC-3 began its descent. We bumped and shook as vaporous clouds swept past the wingtips. Banking slowly, the plane swung into its final landing pattern. There was a noticeable drag as the flaps came down, and a solid bump when the landing gear locked in The pitch of the engines shifted, be-coming a piercing whine. As we dropped lower, the view of the coastline through the window sharpened noticeably. Tiny black spots peppered the curving beach. People. Sunlight glinted across slanted rooftops. Beyond the sprawling city, row after row of snow-Capped mountains receded to the horizon. Minutes later we touched down and bounced fairly hard. The brakes hissed and grabbed, cutting the speed way down. When we gently taxied off the runway and turned onto the concrete apron, the Germans lunged to

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74 NICE CARTER: KELLMASTER their feet. Shouting and shoving, they were the first ones off. After passing through customs I went to the airport's currency exchange desk and had AXE's dollars con-verted into dinars. f speak enough Serbo-Croatian to get by, and I had no trouble getting through to the cabbie who took me to the Marjoro, the hotel where Korla had reserved a room. It was on the fourth floor, and the wide window looked out on the beach and the sparkling sea. I had showered, and was thinking about lunch. when the phone rang. I recognized Korla's voice instantly and be didn't waste a second. There were going to be a few delays, was the way he phrased it, but he assured me that everything was going according to plan and that he'd be getting back to me very soon. "How soon?" I demanded. had put a deliberate edge in my voice and he quickly sensed it. "I don't know," he replied testily. "You will just have to wait and see. it could be two or three days be-fore we get straightened out on this end." He paused. "Arc you becoming restless, Mr. Carter?" I had him going in the right direction. "Not restless, but i don't intend to hang on to the end of this phone for the next seventy-two holm or more. If you need the time, fine, but don't handcuff me to your schedule." There was another pause, a longer one, but when he spoke again there was more of a conciliatory tone to his voice. "Agreed, but if you're going to he gone for any length of time, leave word where you can be reached." I promised I would, and hung up before he could click off. I believed that Keels was leveling. There was a good chance that Salobin may have still been enroute from wherever they had been keeping him. It also figured that Kilda may have wanted the time to check me out, to make certain I hadn't set him up for some

Vie TURNCOAT 75 kind of counterplot. Meanwhile. my toneh approach on the phone had worked. In effect. it put Korla on notice that I wouldn't take any crap he might try to hand out, phis the tact that I wasn't going to babysit the tele-phone while waiting for his call. In fact, with the next few days being open. I figured it was as good a time as any to net in touch with Steve Biro, Hawk's wartime buddy from the OSS. Getting out my memo pad with Biro's number, I di-aled the desk. Biro was on location below Kotor, mak-ing it a long distance call. There was a brief wait, and then the clerk came back on. He apologized for the delay. but the lines to Kotor were tied up temporarily. "Nitro kr He wanted to know if it was very urgent. I told him it wasn't and that I'd be coming downstairs. When the call came through he could page me in the bar. He said he would, thanked me, and buzzed off. The bar was just about deserted when I got there. It was of? the lobby, and the bartender, a balding, round-faced man. flashed a friendly, gold-toothed smile. I ordered a small glass of 'akin, a kind of one-gulp plum brandy that goes down like liquid fire. When I set the empty glass down, he was back with the bottle. iirdnur Another round? I nodded. and he refilled it to the brim. This time I didn't gulp. I treated it with the respect it deserved, sipping at it slowly. The bartender busied himself, pol-ishing his glassware with a small towel. The minutes ticked by. Suddenly a phone rang. It was behind the bar, at my end. The bartender picked it up, spoke briefly, then looked at me and asked ff I were Howard Kierzek. My call had come through. I took the instru-ment from his outstretched hand. "Hello. Mr. Biro?" "Who's this?" It was a booming voice, commanding but still friendly.

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76 NICK CARTER: KILANIARIER I didn't bother with my cover name. I simply said that I was an overseas representative of the "Amalga-mated Press and Wire Services" and he made the AXE connection instantly. The voice boomed on. He said he had rmeived a call from the "old man" in Washington only the day before, alerting' him that I'd be getting in touch. Without a pause be invited me to come on down. "How soon can you leave?" "This afternoon would be fine, providing that's okay with you "Great," he boomed back. "We've had to stop shooting this morning. Some sound equipment prob-lems. But that'll give us a chance to talk. Always wanted to meet you, in fact" I got out my pad and began writing the instructions he gave me for the drive down. "The trip shouldn't take you more than a couple of hours," he concluded. "It's a beautiful drive, some of the nicest scenery in Yugo." I thanked him again and started to say goodbye, when he suddenly interrupted. "You like bourbon?" "Love It." 'Great," he bellowed. "We're gonna get along just fine." After a quick lunch in the hotel's restaurant I had the desk phone for a car rental. There were a couple of choices, but I figured I'd save the taxpayers some money and settled for a Fiat. The car agency said they'd have someone drive it over and it arrived within a half-hour, a bright red little job and spanking clean. Minutes later I drove off. My one piece of luggage was in the trunk. I don't like leaving luggage in an empty hotel room if I can avoid it. Biro and his crew were on location about midpoint between Rotor and Huelva, but the road is circuitous since it loops around the Bay of Rotor, making it a

TUC TURNCOAT 77 longer trip than the actual miles involved. Once Du-brovnik was behind me, the highway bugged the pic-turesque coastline and I passed beach after beach that makes this part of the Adriatic such a great tourist draw. But about a half hour later the countryside changed abruptly. It became wilder, rougher. The heather disappeared. replaced by rock strewn shore-line. Road traffic also fell off noticeably. I stopped once to check my direction at a small fishing village, then swung back onto the main toad. It wasn't much later when I spotted the one coming up behind in my rear-view mirror. For a second or two I thought he wanted to pass, but when I eased over, gave him the road, he one back on his speed and maintained a steady distance in between. Automatically, the warning flags began popping up. From what I could see through themirror, the car looked like a Porsche, but I wasn't too sure. For a while we played the old footsie game. When I'd toe doswn on the gas, spurt ahead, he moved up fast to close the widening gap. But when I'd ease off, he followed suit Immediately. An idiot couldn't miss the telltale signs. I had picked up another tail figured it might be one of Korla's boys sent out to keep an eye on me, but t couldn't be sure. There was a second passibility. After the shoot-out the night before in Beirut, there was a good chance that another hit man had been dispatched. While I mulled this dark possibility over, the road ahead curved sharply. I banked into it, and when I came out of it a road sign flashed by. A valage was up ahead. I came down on the pedal and the Fiat moved out Reaching inside may jacket, I withdrew Wilhelmina from my shoulder holster and wedged the small lures barrel under my tight thigh. I wasn't out to buy trouble, but I wasn't taking any unnecessary chances. Meanwhile, the up-coming village was a piece of luck.

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78 NICK CARTER: KILLAIASIER Once I got there the cat-and-mouse game could be broken off. I continued to come down on the gas pedal and the speedometer needle swung right, began edging past the 75 line. From behind came the roar of the oncoming car. I rechecked the rear mirror. He was well over to the left, out of the curve, moving very fast. Obviously, he had spotted the village sign and had decided to make his move before we'd get there. I floored the pedal as the distance between us shrunk, but the spunky little Fiat was no match. Swiftly, the distance closed. In a few seconds he'd be alongside. The road was arrow straight, flanked on the left by a thick well of rushing pin., and with the sea on my right. I gauged the width of the road's tight shoulder. It was mostly sand, powdery, with tufts of sprouting grass. I swerved onto it, the steering wheel jerking viciously as I left the road. I backed off on the gas, fought the wheel. I gave the brakes two light taps. The Fiat's rear fishtailed right-left, the spinning tires throwing a cloud of sand sad flying grass as he swept by. I wasn't much of a target, but I heard the two shots; the double ping of metal. Pumping the Fiat's brakes, I cut left, swinging hack onto the tarmac. By the time I came to a skidding halt, the Porsche WAS a black speck fleeing towards infinity. I took a couple of quick breaths, tucked Wilbelmina back inside my shoulder holster and stepped outside to have a look. Considering. the haze he had fired through, he hadn't done too badly. One of the hullets had nicked the chrome just above the driver's window, and the second had grooved a two-inch metal scar on the roof. It was close. I got out my handkerchief, dusted the sand from the Fiat's windshield and climbed back in. The remainder of the trip was anti-climactic. At Zelenika, a small port village, I tamed left and

THE TURNCOAT 79 followed the road that circled the unruffled bay. About ten minutes later I drove into Ferast, got a few more directions, and twenty or so minutes later I arrived in Kotor. I had no trouble getting a line on Biro's movie set. A tall, white-gloved policeman in the town's main square patiently heard we through, and when I made some movements with my hands, to indicate movie cameras at work, he caught on even faster. Grinning, he pointed straight ahead. "Pravo. Pasi run vos. Skrenite 'eves Pravo, grave.- I was to go straight on to the railroad crossing, Olen make a left turn. From here it would he straight all the Way. I thanked him, and as I took off he the me a brisk .lute It took less then five minutes to get to the railroad crossing, and I swung left astt instructed. The dirt-topped road was narrow and rued, and the Fiat's springs groaned painfully. Five minutes later the road tilted upward and I had to shift into low. About thirty or so yards later I topped the steep rise, but I was in no way prepared for the incredible sight below. Stretching out in all directions was a battlefield mock-up that looked like something straight out of World War H. Barbed wire and the burnt-out hulks ef German tanks dotted a huge, lumpy field that had been tom up and centered to give the effect of repeated shelling. Biro's prop men had certainly done a bang-up job. They had even blasted off the limbs of some of the few remaining tee., and they looked like the old wartime pictures published years ago in Life and Time. Impressed, I released the footbrake and began inch-ing my way down. Movie extras wearing German uni-forms and ragged partisan battle jackets milled all over the place. It must have been break time because they were lolling around, eating from paper bags and sipping coffee from plastic cups. I pulled up alongside

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

one group perched atop a gutted German ammo carrier

with a swastika emblazoned on the engine hood.

"Anyone here speak English?"

A tall guy with a crew cut, and wearing an S.S.

Sturmbannfuhrer's uniform, hopped down and came

over. If he weren't munching a candy bar I would have

expected him to yell "Achtung!" but he said "Hi" in a

soft British

accent, smiled agrecably, and politely

waited for me to take it from there.

"Tm looking for Steve Biro. "Do you know where I

can find him?"

"No problem," he assured me, and pointed to a

stand of birch trees at the far end of the scarred field.

"Mr. Biro's trailer is behind those trees. He may be

wandering around the set, but if you see his Mercedes

he's probably there."

I thanked him, and he waved goodbye, heading back

Lurching and bouncing, I cut across the field toward

the birches. When I cut around them I spotted the

with a black Mercedes parked alongside. I

pulled up behind, gave the Fiat's horn two light bleeps

and got out. When I slammed the door behind me, the

trailer door popped open and a large-boned man in his

late fifties filled the narrow doorway. I immediately

recognized the craggy face topped with its mop of iron

grey hair from his pictures in the news weeklies. He

put out a big knuckled hand and practically pulled me

into the trailer.

"Carter, this is one hell of a pleasure," he boomed.

"I mean that. Hawk tells me you're the best, and that's

enough for me."

The fact that Hawk would have said something like

that was both surprising and flattering, and while I

thanked Biro for inviting me down he waved to a chair.

"Forget it." he grinned. "And now for some bourbon."

The trailer was littered with books and magazines,

and mountains of paper were piled everywhere. But he

knew his way around. After poking into a corner, he

came up with a couple of paper cups and set them on

the narrow table between us. From a wall cupboard

came an unopened bottle of Old Crow. He slit the gov-

ernment sticker with his thumbnail and set the bottle

down. The small refrigerator provided a tub of cubes

and a siphon of soda water. He dropped two cubes into

each cup, splashed in a generous amount of the Old

He patted the siphon. "Need any?"

He nodded approval and raised his cup. "Cheers."

He drank noisely, his big Adam's apple bobbing up

and down. Settling back, he replenished his drink and

pushed the bottle my way.

"So let's get down to

business," he grinned. "From the little Hawk told me,

it seems you're after a pretty big fish and I want you to

know right off, Nick, that I'll do all I can to help. But

remember, I don't have to be told everything-just

what you think I ought to know and skip the rest. Fair

I appreciated his frankness, and during the next few

minutes I filled him in on what I thought necessary. I

didn't mention Salobin by name, but only said that he

was a Russian missile expert who had defected, was in

turn kidnapped, and that he was due to arrive in Yugo-

slavia shortly. I told him about Korla, of course, that

he had apparently masterminded the snatch, and that

my express mission was to get the kidnapped Russian

out of the country and into American hands.

I didn't spell out precisely why Salobin was that im-

portant-though Biro probably guessed-and other

than mentioning my original meeting with Korla in Bei-

rut, I left out the part about Hananna and the two at-

tempts that had been made on my life. I also made no

mention of the ransom figure.

"What I'm looking for right at this moment," I

concluded, "is a line on Korla's whereabouts. And this

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

is where Hawk thought you and your Yugoslavian con-

tacts could be of help. I'm assuming Korla is in the

country because he called me at my hotel only this

morning, and it would be a big help to me if I could

pinpoint his whereabouts."

Biro drained his cup, chuckled. "It could be I'm a

little ahead of you, Nick. When Hawk called to tell me

you might be dropping by, he also told me about

Korla, and asked me to do some preliminary checking.

And I did. I made inquiries through some of my old

partisan buddies who are on the receiving end of some

pretty good underground pipelines. They say Korla is a

first rate bastard, but that's something you already

know. But they also told me that he has a spacious

apartment in Belgrade where he stays once or twice a

year, plus a seaside villa below Dubrovnik. It's a reno-

vated eighteenth-century castle. If he's in the country

at the present time there's a good chance he'd be in

one of these two places. Which one I can't say right

now, but my friends are working on it and I may know

Biro was already proving helpful, and that led to a

question that had been bugging me for the past two

"But how is it" I asked, "that a guy with Korla's

background could have this kind of entree in Yugosla-

via? After all, this is an iron-curtain country, and I'd

imagine a wheeler-dealer like Korla would have been

given the boot a long time back."

Biro chuckled again. "Right. But then Tito's brand

of communism isn't anything like the Moscow or Mao

variety. If this were, say, Romania of Albania, the

likes of Korla wouldn't get a foothold. But I repeat,

Yugoslavia is different and you'd better believe it."

Still chuckling, he replenished my drink and then his

"Just ask any Yugoslavian," he continued, "what

kind of government he's living under and

promptly say, 'Communist.' But what other Communist

government has

advertising, profit sharing,

markets and some of the slickest call girls in the

business to keep the tourists happy? And then there's

their relaxed life style that you just don't find in any

other Communist country. Take their famous skinny-

dipping beaches, for example. Hell, between Kotor and

Dubrovnik alone you can see more bare ass and boobs

than you will in Southern California or the French Riv-

"Til buy that," I smiled. "Yugoslavia doesn't fit the

Communist mold, but does that really explain Korla's

He shrugged, swirling the bourbon around in his

cup. "Maybe not precisely, Nick, but it sort of all

hangs together when you consider Korla's background.

Now you know that the guy was born here and that he

dealt in black market penicillin during the war—and

that's an important clue. If you remember your World

War II history, you'll recall that when the Germans in-

vaded Yugoslavia in 1941, the resistance forces were

headed up by Draja Mikhailovich, a Chetnik. But two

years later, Tito and his Communist partisans were

able to boot Mikhailovich out and they took over the

entire partisan movement.

"There's a connection here, and according to my

knowledgeable old buddies, Korla got into the act

somewhere around this time. I guess Tito looked like a

winner to Korla, because my friends say that's when

Korla began to supply Tito's rag-tag army with peni-

cillin and other vital medical material that was in very

short supply. Still, this doesn't mean that Korla

giving it away for free. After all, Tito was being funded

by the British as well as the United States, and Korla

was getting cash on the barrelhead for every drop he

made. Maybe Korla was shrewdly looking down the

road a bit. He knew the war would have to come to an

end someday, and he probably figured making power-

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

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ful friends in the right places wouldrft hurt in the

least."

The picture began to emerge. S"Then you're saying

that Korla bought his way into the new movement."

Biro shrugged and ran thick fingers through his

bushy hair. "Not exactly, Nick. But I am suggesting

that Korla proved himself t0'te useful to the struggling

new forces, and I'd say it was good survival thinking

on their part to use whatever help they COUId get.

Naturally, savory tidbits like these don't get into the

history tx»ks, but my sources of information say that

Korla continued to assist the new government by

providing a variety of scarce commodities even after

the war was over. And the fact that Korla was known

as a man who dealt from the bottom of the deck didn't

matter."

Biro shook bis head wearily. "The end of the war

did more than just change the map ot Europe. Along

with the new govemments came new people. Atl the

old alliances were falling apart and new ones were

being shaped in the back rooms. A lot of horse trading

was going on. And rm sure that Korla had a hand in

it. In tact, I'm sure he's still got a hand in many of the

black market operations that are flourishing inside Yu-

gmlavia right at this moment. That's why he can feel

reasonably secure here. Obviously, because he feels se-

cure, there must be people in high authority who are

the Other way when Korla wheels and deals."

He picked up the bottle of bourbon and held it to

the light. It was half-gone anyway. "The trouble with

this stuff," he laughed, "is that it puts a knot in your

gut while it loosens your tongue. Here I am handing

you a lot of academic crap, when all you really want

and needl is some solid information to put you on

Korla's trait. Ain't that the tmth, Nick?"

In a way it was, but what he had said impressed me

and I was about to tell bim so when there was a light

knock on the trailer's door. When Biro opened it I

couldn't see the girl because his back blocked the view,

but I heard her voice. It was low-keyed, on the husky

side—the English fluent but lightly accented. Biro said

something about 'checking into it' and then suddenly

he was inviting her im

"Maya he boomed, want you to meet one hcll

of a nice guy."

Maya was a total surprise. She was about twenty-

five, dark-haired and on the tall side. fact that she

wore jeans and a man-tailored shirt in no way detract.

ed from her stunning figure. She came forward,

smiling, and her eyes put a catch in my throat—large

and luminous, they were a shade of purest violet.

Biro stood behind her, obviously grinning at my

startled expression. CVThis is Maya Hanash," he

beamed. "My script girl, and the best one I ever had."

Since Biro didn't know my cover name, I quickly

took over. "Howard Kierzak," said, taking her hand.

I shot Biro a quick glance. "Mr. Biro and I have a mu-

tual old friend who insisted that we get together if I got

to Yugoslavia. Now that I'm meeting you, the trip has

bccomc even more pleasurable."

She laughed easily, and then her expression suddenly

turned thoughtful. "Kierzak," she murmured. "Isn't

that a Croatian name?"

"My grandfather's," I lied, and I hated doing it. '*He

came to the United States after World War I and

settled in Ohio. But that was a long time ago. *

Biro tactfully broke in. "'I hate to interrupt you two,

but Maya tells me that the sound equipment that broke

down this morning is ready to roll, so I'll have to get

cracking. But I've got an idea. Why don't the three of

us have dinner tonight?"

For a moment I hesitated. It occurred to me that

Korla might try to reach me, and that I should be get-

ting back to Dubrovnik But Biro persisted.

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"You ask him, Maya."

"Please?" she smiled, her hand on my arm.

"Okay," I agreed. It was all the coaxing I needed.

Biro stepped outside with her, but a moment later he

was back, closed the door behind him. "Beautiful, isn't

she?" he grinned.

UAbsolutely stunning."

He chuckled and filled me in on some of het back-

ground. "Lost her parents when she was a kid, and was

raised by an uncle who sent her to Switzerland for hct

schooling. Besides English, she speaks French, atl the

Yugoslavian dialects, and some German RS well. In an

operation like this, language can be a problem. I've got

a polyglot cast. My leading actress is Italian and my

male lead is French. The atmosphere people are

Greeks, Yugoslavians, Germans, Czechs and God

knows what else. It doesn't make for good communica-

tion, and I'd be a dead loss without that girl. S%en the

going gets tough just yetl, Maya!' and shell pop up

at my elbow and gort out the confusion in no time."

He paused, his bushy brows puckered in thought.

"Ordinarily," he said slowly, don't interfere in things

like this. In fact, Nick, my leading lady Eould screw

her asg Off for a big, good-looking guy like you and it

wouldn't me in the least." He stopped for an-

other pause. "But Maya's something else," he went on.

"She's a kind of private person, sensitive—-" He broke

off and dropped an arm around my shoulder. "I just

thought it was something I ought to say. You're not

put off because T brought it up?"

r shook my head. "Not in the least, Steve. I'm glad

you did." And I meant it

He walked me out to the car, and when T slid in be-

hind the wheel of the Fiat he gave me directions to the

hotel he was staying at in Kotor, the Fjord. where we'd

be having dinner and where I'd be able to book a

room. I started up the Fiat, and suddenly a dull boom

pounded the air. Two more followed right behind.

Puffs of black smoke drifted over the tops of some

shattered trees.

"They're warming up for the artillery scene," Biro

explained. "I'd better go look."

When he loped Off, I put the car in gear and moved

out. Some of the tanks had started to roll, and groups

of extras in infantry uniforms were bunched up behind.

Flat trucks with camera crews had taken their positions

alongside and some smoke machines were working

along the edges of the field. As the heavy guns contin-

ned to pound away, some light machinegun fire began

chattering away. I drove to the top ot the Steep hill and

stopped for another look. More artillery had joined in,

and along with the lumbering tanks and advancing in-

fantry, it began to look like World War II all over

again. r released the brake and started down. From be-

hind, the make-believe guns of war rumbled on. At the

bottom of the bill I turned left in the direction of Ko-

tort

The Fjord Hotel faces the bay and has its own pri-

vate beach and swimming pool. The brouchure I

picked up in the lobby claimed 250 rooms, all Of them

equipped with private baths and their own balcony. I

got a comer room on the second floor that offered a

view of the sea from one window and soaring Mt.

Loven from the other.

One of the first things I did was to the Marioto

Hotel in Dubrovnik. The desk clerk had received no

calls for me, and I went on to tell him that I could be

away for a day or two and that he was to tell any caller

that I could be reached at the Fjord. I had him take

down the number, thanked him and hung up.

It was getting on to six now, which left about an

hour before Biro and Maya would arrive. r showered

and shaved. then had room service send up a drink.

Between sips I puffed at a cigarette and glanced

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THE TURNCOAT

through some magazines, but my thoughts kept going

back to Maya. I've known a lot of beautiful women in

my time, but Maya had that rare extra something that

defies descriptiom r suppose the word for it is cha-

risma, but that doesn't quite say it. We had only met

for a few minutes, spoken briefly, but a kind of inexpli-

cable magic had taken place all the same. I tried apply-

ing the brakes.

Easy, Nick, I said to myself. Keep this up and yotfll

start climbing the walls.

I went back to the magazines, but Maya's intriguing

violet eyes kept floating between myself and the pages.

Suddcnly the phone shrilled. It was the desk, calling to

say that Biro and Maya were waiting downstairs. r

took the stairway down, two steps at a time, then

pulled up short.

"Cool it, Nick," I muttered. "You're acting like a

seventeen-year-old."

She was seated in the lobby, her long legs neatly

crossed. She was on her feet the moment she saw me.

She had changed into a dark skirt with a small floral

print and a long-sleeved white satin blouse that but-

toned at the wrists. Her dark, flowing hair was brushed

to a glowing sheen, and she looked even lovelier than

when we had met that afternoon. Biro wasn't with her,

but she quickly explained.

"He's in the bar making a few calls, but be said we

should go right in and get a table and to be sure and

order him a double scotch."

ne dining room was large, but we found a comfort-

able comer booth. I ordered double scotches for Biro

and me, and the sherry Maya requested. After the

drinks arrived we settled back and chatted. I asked

how she liked her job and she said it never stopped

being exciting. We also talked about her schooling in

Switzerland, and then she asked me what I did. r told

her I was a sales rep for a Grand Rapids furniture

company, and that I was principally in the country on

businesg. I kept the details ou the vague side, ex-

plaining I was looking to buy up quantities of furniture

in the raw that could be finished in our domestic

plants. Her eyes sparkled with interest. Besides every-

thing else, she was a great listener.

It was about here that Biro showed up. Slumping in

his seat, he finished off his drink in two neat gulps and

immediately ordered another.

"Better let Maya order," he suggested. "That way

we can't go wrong."

The meal was excellent. We started out with a thick,

meaty soup, and then Maya suggested I try a culbastija

that turned out to be one of the best steaks I had ever

eaten. I had two bowls of salad, rolls and a variety of

vegetables. I skipped dessert, but finished off with two

cups of turska kava, a Turkish coffee that can blitz a

Saturday night hangover in thirty seconds flat.

Not long after the table was cleared, Biro swung to

his feet At this point the conversation had become

mostly two-sided, between Maya and me, and Bim

wasn't slow about catching on.

"Don't either of you try to stop me," he grinned,

"but I'll just shove off to the bar."

Maya watched him go, smiling fondly. "He's becn

like a father to me. A wonderful, wonderful person."

I very much wanted to make a long night Of it, but it

wasn't too long after Biro left that Maya glanced at her

watch. "We begin shooting very early tomorrow morn-

ing." she apologized. "I'm afraid I'll have to be getting

back."

was disappointed, but insisted on driving her

home. I asked for the check, but the waiter told me

that Biro had left word that it be put on his bill I left

a tip, brought Maya out to the lobby and then went to

see Biro in the bar. I told him I'd be taking Maya

home, and then he explained about his pre-dinner calls.

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"They were to some Of my old partisan friends," he

said in a lowered tone, "and they promised to get right

on it. I think they'll be able to get a line on Korla's

whereabouts fairly soon. At the most a couple of days,

but it could even sooner."

I thanked him again, picked Maya up in the lobby,

and we went out to the lot where I had parked the

Fiat. It was a beautiful evening, with a light westerly

breeze blowing in across the bay. Maya pointed out the

way. She rented a small cottage on the outskirts of

town, and it took under twenty minutes to get there. I

parked alongside what looked like a garden wall, and

after we got out we walked up the short bordered

path to the front door.

She removed the key from her purse and paused. I

kissed her gently, on the cheek. She returned it, hesi-

tated for a moment, and then placed her mouth over

mine. Her arms slid around my neck. It was totally un-

expected. Her arms tightened, and suddenly a phone

inside the house started to ring, Her lips withdrew and

she gave a low laugh. The phone kept going. I counted

the rings: five six. seven

She laughed again. ST m afraid it won't stop. Perhaps

I'd better-—

Eight nine

"What about tomorrow, Mayar

'Td like that," she replied. "I'll call from location.

'lhe very first chance."

She slipped the key in the lock, flashed another

smile. moment later she stepped inside and the door

closed silently behind her.

I waited until the phone stopped ringing, then re-

turned to the car. When I got back to the hotel I stopped

at the bar, but Biro had left, so I went directly to my

room. When I was in bed and had switched off the

lamp, I found myself wondering who Maya's caller

could have been. I felt it had to be a man, and I ex-

perienced a quick stab of honest-to-goodness Jealousy. I

closed my eyes.

"Carter," I thought aloud sleepily, "what you need is

a good swift kick in the butt."

CD 88 a P P

CHAPTER 10

It was a bit past noon and I was sprawled out beside

the hotel pool when my name boomed over the inter-

com. There was a phone waiting foc me in the

lobby. I slipped into my robe and a pair of canvas

slippers and padded over. When the clerk spotted me,

he held up two fingers and pointed to a row of phones

that stood on a marble shelf. I picked up number two

and hello.

Maya's voice came through instantly. She sounded

breathless and excited. •ne day's shooting bad gone

very well and she expected they'd wrap up work by

four that afternoon.

' 'Can you drive out around that time?"

"No problem," I replied.

She laughed. "Maybe you should pack a few things.

We might be gone overnight." Suddenly she hesitated.

"I mean if that is all right with you."

"Just great," I assured her.

She went on to explain that the next day being Sun-

day. there'd be no shooting. "And there is this lovely

mountain inn you simply must see. But with the drive

and all it would be too much to manage in one day.

You do understand, don't you?"

The fact that she was inviting me on an overnight

date did come as a delightful surprise, but I skipped

right past it. "See you at four, then," I said.

"Wonderful," she replied, and there was another

pause. "About last night. I'm sorry I had to be so

abrupt. You weren't angry?"

I laughed and she laughed back.

"See you at tour,tt I repeated.

She whispered a soft goodbye, clicked off.

After lunch I stopped at the hotel's gift shop and

bought a small overnight bag, and at three I put an-

Other call through to the Marjoro Hotel in Dubrovnik.

No messages had come from Korla, and after remind-

ing the clerk where I could be reached, I tossed a

change of clothes and my shaving equipment into the

small bag. I wasn't worried in the event Korla called

and found me out. Cooling his heels a bit wouldn't

hurt, and frankly I was anxious to have some of Biro's

information on tap before getting down to the nitty-

gritty business of dealing with Korla.

I told the Fjord's clerk that I might be gone until the

following evening and to take any messages that may

come in. From here I went directly to the parking lot,

tossed my bag into the Flat's luggage compartment and

took off. I made thc ride out in less than a half-hour,

and when T pulled up alongside Biro's trailer it was a

few minutes after four. The trailer door opened and

Maya appeared. with Biro right behind. She wore a

pair of Iirht beige slacks, sandals and a cream colored

blouse embroidered with sprays of flowers. Her long,

dark hair was cauoht up in a colorful silk handkerchief,

and she looked lovely.

I wondered what Biro might have thought of the

arrangements, and I found a chance to talk to him when

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Maya stepped back inside the trailer to get her bag. I

wanted him to know that the trip was Maya's ideat but

that I was all for it myself.

"No sweat," he grinned. "She told me about it."

He put his hand on my shoulder, the way he had the

day before. "She likes you, Nhck. And so do I."

I used the opportunity to ask him if he had heard

anything as yet from his partisan friends.

He shook his head. "But if I do, and if it's important

enough, I know where to reach you. So relax and en-

When Maya stepped out I took her bag and started

for the Fiat. Suddenly Biro called out and dug into his

pocket. He came up with the keys for his Mercedes

and held them out. "Better take my jalopy," he said.

"You'll be glad you did on those mountain roads."

He insisted, so I got my bag out of the Fiat, trans-

ferred it to the Mercedes, and put Maya's alongside.

then gave Biro the Fiat's keys, opened the passenger

door to the Mercedes for Maya and then got in on the

driver's side. I hit the ignition and the Mercedes purred

to life. I released the handbrake and we were on our

way.

We retraced the road to Kotor, following the high-

way north along the curving bay. Maya was in a real

holiday mood, chatting easily and pointing things out

along the way, We stopped briefly at Perast to fill the

Mercedes' tank and then continued on to Risan, a

pleasant seaside village. From here we turned off the

main highway, our heading almost due west. Gradu-

ally, the narrow road became winding and steeper.

"Now the mountains," Maya bubbled. "Wait till you

see them!"

She unknotted her scarf, shook her long hair loose

and settled back against the seat, her head nestled

lightly against my shoulder.

For the next half-hour the road spiraled upward.

Now knew why Biro had insisted that I take his car.

For the Fiat it would have been an uphill fight all the

way, but the Mercedes easily maneuvered the Steep,

winding turns with the stealth of a jungle cat. At one

point we passed a small mountain village with a road-

sign that read: Alt. 1,290 meters—the equivalent of al-

most 4,000 feet.

Maya hugged my arm. "We're more than almost

half-way there."

By now it was getting on to six. The sun had moved

over to the left, B)uring late afternoon shafts of golden

light into the dark, wooded ravines below. Up ahead

the road continued to wind and twist, uncoiling like a

snake through the high mountain pass. So far the traf-

fic had been exceptionally light, both ways, but as I

banked into another curve I heard the muffled roar

coming from behind. Instinctively, r touched the pedal

and the Mercedes surged forward. I checked the rear-

. view mirror, but the curve cut off the view from bee

hind. I gave the pedal another tap.

Maya sensed something, touched my arm. "Is any-

thing wrong?"

I shook my head vaguely. "Not sure

rechecked the rearview mirror and a split second later

the car game sweeping around the curve. I recognized

it instantly—the same Porsche that had tailed me the

day before. I gunned the pedal and the Mercedes

lunged.

"Maya," I said firmly, "I want you to do something.

Slide down in your seat, as far as you can. I want you

to do it now!"

She hesitated.

"Now," 1 shouted. "NOW!"

She obeyed instantly.

I said reassuringly. "Just stay that way."

I bad no idea where and bow he had picked us up.

rt could have happened as far back as Perast when we

stopped for gas. But that didn't matter now. What did

matter was tbat I wasn't going to let him pull alongside

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for a clean shot. I thanked my lucky stars that Biro

had insisted on my taking the Mercedes. At least we

were decently matched.

My eyes flashed to the mirror. He was over to the

left. but not quite all the way. I knew what be wanted—

a fairly open stretch with enough passing room. That

was his style, and he wouldn't make bis move until the

conditions were right. This guy was no compulsive

gambler. He was a pro. instinctively cautious, and

trained not to go beyond the calculated risk. Another

curve loomed ahead. I banked into it and the Mercedes

radials snarled with animal fury. But bad luck waited

for me on the way out. Suddenly the road leveled and

straightened out. It was exactly what the bastard

needed. I groaned inwardly and tightened up on the

wheel. I checked the rearview mirror. He was over the

line, on my left, and coming up fast.

"Steady," I whispered to Maya. "Hold tight."

I came close to flooring the pedal and the Mercedes

took off. Trees and tan posts flashed by. I kept check-

ing the mirror. He was gaining slightly: I let him move

up, timing it carefully. For a moment I lost him in the

overhead mirror, but quicklv picked him •up in the

sideview. He had shifted further to my left. So far so

good. I backed off slightly on the gas, waited for him

to close in. I rechecked the sideview mirror, When his

front bumper drew up alongside my rear left fender, I

cut the steering wheel right.

The Mercedes' tail swunz left. It was a light enough

bump, but the scream of metal fitted the air as our fen-

ders brushed momentarily. He didn't fan back. but

came straight om Again I eut the wheel right, hard*

Thig time there was a solid. thuddine crunch. His

brakes howled when we broke loose and he was out of

control. The crash when he hit the rail was deafening.

I plimosed him in the rearview mirror as he went over,

a dark hurtling object falling away into the cavernous

space below.

brought the bucking Mercedes to a skidding halt

along the narrow shoulder and leaped out.

"Stay inside," I cautioned Maya. "Stay put till I get

back."

I poundéd back down the road to where the Porshe

had gone over. It lay upended on its front bumper on a

slope about forty feet below, its rear precariously bal-

anced against the trunk of a massive tree. Both doors

had been blown open and a cloud of hissing, gray

smoke issued from the shattered front end. I could see

nothing of the driver.

There was a good chance be could have been

thrown clear upon impact, but I couldn't be sure. And

I had to be sure. I slipped Wilhelmina out of my shoul-

der bolster, stepped over the railing and started down.

Pebbles and loose soil fell away underfoot. I distinctly

avoided a direct approach to the battered Porsche.

Shifting to the Left, I made a wide circling trek that

would bring me to the rear of the vehicle.

The sun had almost set and the light was fading fast.

Worse yet, a thin mist rising from the valley floor

seeped upwards, blanketing the shadowy slope in a

filmy haze.

I had hoped to find a corpse, but there wag still no

sign of him. I doubted very much that he was stiÜ in

the car. In moments like this silence can become the

fine edge between staying alive or getting oneself killed.

i stepped into the shadows cast by a towering pine and

waited. Actually, total silence doesn't exist, provided

you listen with proper concentration, Gradually, from

within the dark branches above, came the nervous flut-

ter Of birds. From the distant valley floor, came a farm

dog's faint barks. Somewhere to my right, a small

forest animal scurried unseen through a tangle of grass.

At one point I heard my own breathing.

A car swept by on the highway above, tires hissing.

Just as swiftly it faded off. Another sound emerged, a

rustling, whisper light. It came from my left, some-

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where Otr in the shadowed haze of brown earth and

clumps of scattered shrubs. I tumed my head toward

the sound, not more than an inch, when the shot

banged out. Bits of shattered bark spewed the air

inches above my head.

I dropped to a crouch, darted to my right. I had

barely glimpsed the spurt of orange-tongued dame, but

I gauged the shot to have come from a patch of thick

grass fringed by a of shale rock and powdery soil

I circled the Porsche quickly and sped up a small

slope that put me on slightly higher ground. A second

later I spotted him. I was behind and above when he

came inching out of the grassy patch. He was on his

belly, dragging himself forward on his elbows. He must

have sensed my position, because a second later his

head snapped my way. I don't know how he managed

it, but he hobbled to one knee, raising his bloodstained

face in my direction. He brought the revolver up

slowly, with great effort, and his hand shook violently.

Tbe advantage was definitely all mine, and I took it. I

squeezed off two shots and he went over on his back,

his arms flung outwards when he hit the ground.

I waited, slowly counting to ten. I approached from

behind, dropping to one knee alongside his body. His

eyes, bright with hate stated up into mine. A bloody

froth oozed from the comers of his mouth. Suddenly

his lower jaw twitched and his mouth snapped open;

muscles strained, words struggled to tear loose. I

leaned closer. He was trying to say something. It was

garbled, totally without meaning. He coughed suddenly

and blood welled from his gaping mouth. His eyes

glazed over and his jaw fell slack.

I checked his pulse. It barely fluttered. did what

Vd do for any animal close to death and tom by pain. I

touched the muzzle of my luger to his left temple and

squeezed the trigger;

'he shot echoed and reechoed for a long time. It

hummed in my ears as I trudged back up the slope

to the highway. When I got there, I reholstered Wilhel-

mina and started back down the road toward the

Mercedes. I could see the silhouette of Maya's head

above the front seat. W*hen I got back to the car and

slipped in behind the wheel, she turned slightly. Most

of ber face was in shadow.

'Those shots?" she whispered.

I didn't even try to lie. "The man who tried to mn

us off the road is dead," I said simply. "It had to be

done."

"For one thing be would bave killed us. For an-

other • • e"

I broke off and put my hands lightly on her shoul-

ders. I kissed her on the forehead, and then lightly

again on the lips. She didn't draw back. I knew her

head must be full of questions, but there was nothing I

could add by way of explanation at this point. It had

turned out to be a bad scene, the very worst.

"Maybe we had better go back," I suggested.

She shook her head stubbornly, slipped her arms

around my neck. "No," she said huskily. "Let's go on.

Please

I started the Mercedes. We rolled gently off the

shoulder and onto the road, driving for a while in

silence. Along the horizon, above the shadowy bulk of

a soaring mountain, an early star gleamed silver-bright

in the darkening sky. It was quickly joined by another.

I snapped on the headlamps and settled back against

the seat. Hesitantly, she broke the silence.

"Only two questions. Do you mind?"

I shook my head and waited.

"Did you really come to Yugoslavia to buy furni-

ture?"

I shook my head again.

"Is your name really Howard Kierzek?n

Another shake.

She smiled, slid close and put her bead against my

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101

shoulder as she had done earlier. "I trust you." she

murmured. "And for now, no more questions. I

promise."

About forty minutes later we turned into the inn's

graveled driveway. A striking old building, it stood well

off the road, its dark gabled roof silhouetted against a

massive backdrop of moonlit clouds.

An elderly uniformed attendant met us when we

pulled up to the door. I gave him the car keys and he

said he'd have the luggage brought in. Maya took my

hand eagerly and we went into the lobby, a spacious

low-ceilinged room finished with smokey beams and

furnished with oversized sofas and leather upholstered

chairs. From a huge fireplace at the far end of the

room, a crackling log fire threw leaping shadows across

the paneled walls.

There was a bar off the lobby. and Maya suggested

that I order something for myself and her while she

checked the desk on the reservations she had made

that morning. I was au for this. I was certainly in need

of a drink.

'Ihe dimly lit bar was quiet when I entered.

ordered a scotch for myself. neat, and a fruit cordial

for Maya. Before the drinks arrived, Maya returned.

Everything at the desk was in order. Since we were

both starved, I told the barman to have the drinks sent

to our table and we left for the dining room. We

ordered soup and a lamb gnd rice dish, and when the

waiter left with our order the drinks arrived.

The meal did wonders for both of us. While we

ate, sipping our drinks. Maya's cheerful nature showed

signs of revival. All trace of what had happened back

on the road seemed to have been forgotten. I wag de-

lighted. But the real surprise came at the end of the

meal. the waiter left the check and walked off,

Maya leaned forward, placed a slender band over

mine.

"About our reservations," she said softly, and her

full lips curved into a slight, sly smile. 'They bad this

one lovely, large room, so I thought—" Her hand

pressured mine gently. "I thought you might like that.

and I took it."

I tried hiding my surprise, tried poker-facing it, but

something must have shown in my eyes. She started to

withdraw her hand, but I caught it It was just some Ot

the things Biro had said about Maya, ber trust she

placed in people that made me wonder. The question

came to my lips.

"Are you sure, Maya?"

Her smile deepened. She withdrew her hand, stood

up. "Our room number is twenty-four. 1+11 need a little

time."

T let a decent fifteen minutes go by before starting

up. Room 24 was at the end of the long carpeted hall-

way on the second floor. "Ihe door was unlocked, and

after entering I closed it gently behind me. Some light

came from the partially opened bathroom door, enough

to see by. From the bathroom came the sound of run-

ning water. I crossed the room to the large window and

drew the drapes slightly. The spread had already been

turned down on the large double bed, and our luggage

was at the foot. I removed my jacket and found a hang-

er in the closet. I slung my shoulder holster over it,

covered it with my jacket and hung it on the rack.

I removed my tie and shirt and suddenly the water

was turned off. My pulse began to race. When the

bathroom door swung open, I turned.

She stood in the doorway. The backlighting revealed

all of her slender curves through tbe wispy, knee-length

peignoir. She smiled, then seemed to float in my direc-

tion. Her arms encircled me. She pressed her cheek to

mine and her delicate perfume flooded my senses.

she laughed.

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103

I swept het up in my arms, carried her to the bed

and eased her onto it.

I don't make love by the book. Doing it by the rules

isn't my style. I kissed the smooth hollow of her thrrxit,

then moved to her mouth. She responded hesitantly at

first, then more surely. Her arms tightened around my

neck and ber petal-smooth lips slowly parted. The tip

of her warm tongue brushed mine, probed gently.

I let it build. nere was time, endless time and I

wanted both of us to savor every delicious moment. I

undid the sash of the peignoir, swept the filmy garment

aside. Her rose tipped breasts tilted temptingly toward

me. I cradled the palm of my hand around one soft

mound, felt a sensuous shiver race through her body.

Lowering my head I grazed the fragrant, silky flesh

with my lips. Gently, she slipped ber hand over mine,

guided the erect nipple to my mouth. I drew it in, felt

her body arch. She moaned ecstatically.

The pace quickened. Her rhythmic body movements

began, slowly at first-—-a subtle stirring from some mys-

terious inner source.

My hand moved across her curved hip, •and r al-

lowed my fingers to trace a path toward the inner

regions of her satin smooth thighs. Gradually they

parted, and r explored gently, intimately. My fingers

became my eyes. Seeing what can't be seen. Feeling

what can't be described. I probed deeper still and her

movements quickened.

"Maya?"

"Yes," she whispered urgently. "Yes."

I kicked off my shoes, unbuckled my belt and

whipped off my pants.

When r moved over her again her body molded itself

perfectly to mine. Ille rhythm began anew, increased.

Tenderly she drew my head down. closed her lips over

my mouth. A moment later het long, splendid thighs

parted, made room.

Caught up, we moved together as one. We rose,

soared, fetl back and soared again. She strained against

me, moaning through clenched lips with every thrust I

made. Gradually the abrupt movements changed, be-

came a long sensuous glide. Our drift was earthbound,

and we came to rest gently, lightly, with my head

buried between her perfumed breasts.

For a long minute she lay perfectly still, then

snuggled close. In the darkness, with my arms around

her, I told her my name. It was all I could allow myself

to tell her at this time, but we couldn't remain

nameless strangers-—not after what we had just shared.

"Nick," she murmured drowsily. "Nick Carter."

She brushed my shoulder with her lips, snuggled closer.

"It's a lovely name. I like it very, very much

Her body went soft in my arms, and moments later

she drifted off to sleep.

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CHAPTER 11

105

The phone got us up a little after eight. It stood on

a small table on Maya's side of the bed, and she stirred

when I reached over her to answer its ring.

Biro's voice boomed in my ear. "Nick? nat you?"

"Right."

He sounded excited.

"I hope it isn't too early, but things have been hap-

pening fast. I've just been in touch with some of my

Yugoslavian friends and it looks like they've hit pay-

dirt. They've located Korla's present whereabouts."

By now I was fully awake. "Where?"

"I'll give you the details when I see you. But there's

something else, In fact, I was going to call you on this

last night, but I figured, hell. it could hold till morning.

Anyway. I had dinner at your hotel last night, and I

thought I'd check with the desk to find out if you had

any calls. The clerk said that a few had come in, all

from the same guy, Only whoever it was, he wouldn't

leave his name."

104

I was positive it had been Korla. It could mean that

Salobin had finally arrived in the country, and it could

also mean that Korla would be pressing hard now to

close the deal I knew I'd bave to get cracking.

"Can I meet you back at the hotel?" I asked. "We'll

leave here right after we've had some breakfast. I'll

drop Maya off first at her place, and that should bring

me back around one or so."

'TII be there," he promised: He paused. "How's

Maya?"

I grinned down at her and she smiled back.

"Lovely, but you know that."

He laughed, said something about driving carefully

and clicked off. When I reached to replace the phone,

she took my arm. A small frown creased ber smooth

brow. "Must we leave very soon?"

I kissed her lightly. "Not that soon."

The frown vanished and her full, lower lip trembled

expectantly. When I placed my mouth over hers and

nibbled gently, she pushed me off. I landed on my back

end she quickly slid on. top. She grinned down at me,

giggling wickedly. Moments later her mouth closed

over mine. A flame was kindled, became a roaring

blaze. I made no effort to snuff it out ..

Less than an hour later we were on our way, and

Maya maintained a discreet silence about Biro's call as

the Mercedes rolled up the miles. I was grateful for her

tact. About an hour into the trip, when we approached

the point where the shoot-out had taken place the night

before, we were flagged down by a uniformed polW

man. A road barrier had been set up alongside the

point where the Porsche had gone over the guard rail,

and a couple of other uniformed policemen, and a man

in civilian clothes, were busy measuring the skid marks.

The policeman, a young man with startling blue

eyes. asked to see my papers. I handed over my pass-

port, and after he scanned through it he politely

handed it back. Casually, I asked what the trouble was.

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"A police matter," he smiled, and waved us on.

When we were on our way again, I glanced at Maya.

She looked a bit pale and gave me a small, brave smile.

Obviously she was as relieved as I was. The remainder

Of the trip went smoothly, and about an hour Later we

arrived in Kotor.

I dropped Maya off at her cottage, told her ltd be in

touch and then drove directly to the hotel. I spotted

my rented Fiat in the parking lot in the rear and pulled

in alongside. It was a few minutes past one, and I

headed straight for the bar. I recognized Biro's broad

back hunched over a drink, and the moment he spotted

me he was on his feet.

"Letts take a bottle and go to your room," he said

after shaking bands. " nere's a lot to tell."

Once in the room, Biro settled back in his chair, a

tall drink clutched in his hairy fist.

"I didn't think my friends would nan it this soon,"

he chuckled, "but they've really put it together. Now

for the nitty-gritty."

He got a map out from his pocket, unfolded it, and

spread it out on the table between us. The map detailed

the Yugoslavian-Adriatic eoasdine, and Biro stabbed a

thick finger to the X he had pencilled between Du-

brovnik and Cavtat. "You remember my telling you

the other day that I was pretty sure that Korla

maintained a coastal villa in the vicinity, don't you?

Well, according to my informants was right, and this

is the precise location. From what they say, it's

perched way up on one of those rocky cliffs with its

back to the sea—it's fairly inaccessible."

He paused to take a long pull at his drink. '"But

that's only the tip of the iceberg. My friends also tell

me that over the past few years, Korla's converted the

place into a Goddamn fortress. It's loaded with elec-

tronic surveillance gear, and when Korla's in residence

his armed guards patrol the turrets and the grounds

around the clock. On top of that, right now, the num-

ber of guards seems to have been increased. So it could

mean that they've got your Russian defector there after

nil."

He finished the drink and set the glass on the table.

Gradually, his bushy brows puckered into a thoughtful

frown. "I'm not getting nosey, Nick," be said slowly. "l

know that thig is your gig and you're going to have to

tackle it the way. you think t*St. But I can't help

wondering. Are you seriously thinking of breaking into

that place and somehow, someway, making off with the

Russian?"

"You're a couple of light years ahead of me," I

grinned. "Right now I only want to look the place

over. Size it up. Just looking it over may offer gome

ideas. That's all I know right now. Time enough to de-

cide later, right?"

He pumped his head thoughtfully, and when he

reached for the bottle, I thought it a gond time to tetl

him about the shoot-out the day before, plus the one in

the Beirut alley.

art smells like the KGB," he said when had

finished. gThere's a running war here between them

and the UBDA, the secret Yugoslavian police. Actu-

any, there's common talk around here that Moscow

hes placed some of their KGB agents inside the

VBDA which gives them an inside track to a lot of

things that are going on here. They've also got agents

planted in factories and shops—moles who bury them-

selves in some obscure corner but who're ready to do

their dirty work whenever they get the Kremlin call.

The bartenderdownstairs could be one of them, or the

waiter who serv us dinner. You just can't be sure."

Sighing, he s g to his feet, putting a friendly hand

on my shoulder. they're on to you, Nick, they're

going to use every foul trick in the bag to get you out

of the way and give them a clear field to get their runa-

way Russian back. It figures, and you know that as

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108

much as I do. Anyway, I want to go on belping. Any-

way I can."

I walked him to the door, and he suddenly remem-

bered something. Reaching inside his pocket, he came

up with a snapshot of Korla's castle-styled villa taken

by one ot his Yugoslavian friends from a safe distance.

"You may find this useful," he explained, "along

with the map."

I took it, thanked him. and then another thought

seemed to cross his mind. "I almost forgot, but my

friends also tell me that Korlats been going to Du-

brovnik in the evenings. think he's shacking up

with a young actress, the wife of a local bureaucrat

who spends a lot of his time in Zagreb. don't know if

it adds up to anything, but you never know what's use-

ful in this business, right?"

I agreed, and after he gave my arm a friendly pat he

Jeft.

I locked the door behind him. and went back for an-

other look at the map. A moment later the phone rang.

It was Korla. He sounded annoyed and I let him rattle

away.

"I've been trying to reach you since yesterday," he

snarled. "First I called the hotel in Dubrovnik, and

they gave me this number. So I called and they told me

you were out. so r called again and kept calling and you

were still out. And what are you doing in Kotor?"

0 Visiting an old friend," I breezed back. "But why

the beef? You said you weren't ready and that you'd

get in touch when you were. Well, so where do we

stand now?"

"Things are settled at this end," he said tersely.

"We're ready to deliver. What about you? Has the

money issue been cleared?"

"Not altogether," I lied. "After all, a contract this

size can't be negotiated by my department head alone.

Others have to be consulted. Besides, they're putting

some pressure on me. They're asking that I be shown

what I'm paying for before any money changes hands.

Are you agreeable to that?"

"Not in the least," he snapped back.

"Then how can I be sure you really have our man?"

"You can't be," he replied. "That's the way it has to

be. But once there is an agreement on price, and the

money is on hand, ready to be delivered, you have my

word that a suitable exchange procedure wm be

worked out to guarantee our mutual interests."

I came close to laughing into the mouthpiece. In my

book, Korla•s word was about as reliable as a three

dollar watch. But since a payoff was something AXE

would never consider, Korla's word was ot no im-

portance anyway. So continued to stall.

I said in a friendly tone. "I'll get your

message back to my people and we'll let them decide

whether they want to go ahead on your terms. Let's see

what they come up with. Frankly, I trust you all the

way, 9 nd as soon as I know I'll-—

He cut me off. "'lhen you had better tell them this,

too. Tell them I'm giving them precisely six days to

come to a firm decision. At the end of that time ex-

pect the money to be on hand. If it isn't, the deal is off

and it will not be reopened. Do I make myself perfectly

uPerfectIy," I echoed.

Moments after he bung up reached for the bottle

Biro had left behind and poured myself a drink. Ad-

mittedly, I was playing it close to the edge. So far. r

only had Korla'8 word that he had Salobin, but on the

evidence supplied by Biro's friends I was prepared to

believe he was telling the truth. The fact that he had

doubled his guard detail at the villa had to stand for

something. Korla had to be protecting something a hell

of a lot more important than his wine cellar to take

such precautions.

Later that afternoon I caned Maya, and though re-

ally ached to see her I had to turn down ber invitation

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for dinner at her place. With Korla calling the shots,

and only six days to get something going, I needed the

time to rough out some preliminary plan. But there

was one thing I was sure of, and when I told Maya

that I'd be leaving the following morning, it took her

by surprise.

#But it won't be for too long," I added quickly.

"Two, three days at the most. •

"Good," she whispered. "And you will call when

you get back? Right away?"

"Absolutely."

She paused slightly. "You will be careful •

please

I assured her I would. I waited until I heard her

click off before hanging up.

I left Kotor a little past noon on the following day,

the luggage section of the Fat crammed with camping

gear I had bought earlier that moming at a local sport-

ing goods shop. Besides a portable butane stove and a

supply of fuel cartridges, I had bought a short-handled

axe, an army-type mess kit, a three-celled flashli2ht, a

fiber-filled sleeping bag and a lightweight, aluminum-

framed backpack.

I had also bought a pair of hiking boots, a pair of

cavalry twill pants and a chamois shirt. I chhnged into

these in a room in the rear of the shop, and then made

two final purchases—a pair of thermos bottles that

came packed in their own kit, and Zeiss 10-powered,

25mm wide-angled binoculars. After I paid, I stopped

at another combination grocery and deli—-and

picked up an assortment of canned food and a couple

Of jars of instant coffee. ne shopkeeper, an elderly

man with bushy brows. obligingly filled both thermos

bottles with clear, sparkling water.

T took the same road out cf town I had used coming

in, recrossing the railroad tracks where the policeman

had given me directions only a few days before. Once I

was on the highway, I followed the curving bay. At in-

tervals, I kept a check on the rearview mirror: Nothing

suspicious turned up. so I took my time. When I got to

Cavtat, it wasn't quite two. I drove down the townis

principle cobblestoned street and pulled up before a

small restaurant. I had a quick lunch of thick bean

soup served with half a loaf of dark, crusty bread. It

wasn't quite 2:30 when I was im•k on the road, my

heading due north. I really didn't have much fur-

ther to go. I drove through Cilipi, an even smaller

village than Cavtat.

From here the road began to dipt threading its way

along a valley door flanked by wooded hills. For a

while I lost all view of the Adriatic. Terraced vineyards

dotted some of the slopes, but there were few signs ot

habitation. About twenty minutes later. as I came out

of the turn, the sea suddenly reappeared on my left A

moment later I spotted the soaring cliff with Korla's

turreted castle crowning the summit. Its massive stone

towers were silhouetted starkly against the brilliant

blue sky.

I pulled over to the side of the roed, braked, and got

out the snapshot Biro had given me. It was one and the

same, no doubt about it. got the binoculars out of the

glove compartment and gave the place a few searching

sweeps. The outer wall that enclosed the sprawling

building was at least forty feet high. Turrets were

spaced out at about twenty-foot intervals, and I zeroed

in on one of them with my binoculars. A bearded

man's head and shoulders showed above the crenelated

stonework. If he were armed, I couldn't see it, but I as-

gumed be was. I carefully checked the other turrets.

Each one of them posted a lookout. r figured the turrets

atop the adjacent walls were similarly posted with

guards. For the moment, I had seen enough.

After I slipped the binoculars back inside the glove

compartment, r started up the Fiat. I kept the speed

under 25 mph, scarcely giving the castle a second

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glance as I drew abreast and slid by. I was looking for

something else, and about a half-mile up the road I got

lucky. It was a large, open field, lumpy and weed-cov-

ered, but at the far end, it bordered a patch of heavy

woods. It was made to order. I checked the road both

ways. No traffe was in sight, coming Of going. I cut the

Fiat's wheels hard right, fed gas. I came Off the road

fast, bouncing over the low shoulder and onto the field.

The spunky little car lurched and swayed, its springs

groaning like an animal in pain. As I drew close to the

edge Of the field I spotted a break between the trees

and beaded for it. I gauged the opening to be wide

enough to take the Fiat and inched forward. Overhang-

ing branches from the neatest trees scraped noisily

across the roof as I edged in. I kept easing forward un-

til the Fiat was fully under. When the branches

stopped scraping, and had sprung back to their original

position, I cut the ignition, braked and got out.

I walked to the field for a quick look. The low-hang-

ing branches screened practically all the Fiat, and all I

could see through dense foliage were a few glints of re-

flected sunlight off the bumper chrome. Frot? the road,

it would be absolutely undetectable.

So far, so good. Now I was ready for stage two. I

got the fully-loaded backpack out of the luggage and

buckled up. Hopefully, I'd look like a tourist on a

countryside hike. I crossed the field, and when

reached the road I turned left, beading back in the

direction from which I had come. About fifteen

minutes later I was about back to the castle. It was

well off to my right. the sunlight tossing bright reflec-

tions off the windows. I walked right past it as though

it didn't exist.

About five minutes later T crossed to the left side of

the highway and entered the woods that flanked the

shoulder. I found a narrow foot trail and plodded along

as it led to higher ground. It was fairly steep going, but

my cleated hiking boots were a big help. I was puffing

•slightly whei' came out above the tree tine, and I

stopped for a look around. I had judged things rather

well. From where I stood had a fairly unobstructed

view of the castle, but with enough distance in between

to prevent my being seen.

Satisfied, I continued the climb for about another

fifty feet. To my left was an outcropping of massive

boulders. Unbuckling my pack, I squatted down, got

out the binoculars, and focused on the castle.

Intelligence gathering can be a pretty dull business,

and I had a feeling I was in for a longs tedious session.

I kept scanning the castle at regular intervals, but there

were absolutely no signs of any activity. An hour

crawled by. Nothing. Another forty-five minutes. Still

nothing. I lit my third or fourth cigarette and took a

few tums around the area to work the cramped feeling

out of my legs. I was feeling a little hungry. and was

thinking of getting something out of the pack, when a

small burst of sunlight flared up along the castle's front

wall.

I snapped the binoculars to my eyes, zeroed in. A

second burst ot light followed. it came from a pair of

glass French doors that had suddenly been opened.

'Ihe doors led out to a small stone balcony, and a man

stepped into view. 'Illere was no mistaking him. It was

Korla. His bloated features floated before my eyes,

seemingly close enough for me to be able to reach out

and pluck the thick cigar that drooped between his lips.

He stood there for a minute or so, then ground out

the cigar on the balcony's ledge and tossed it over the

side. Turning, he reentered the room. Another spurt Of

reflected sunlight flared as the glass doors closed be-

hind him. The long wait had paid off. Korla's presence

bad been confirmed and I was more convinced than

ever that Salobin was somewhere on the premises. But

just where posed a lot of problems. figured the castle

to have as many as eighty rooms, maybe more, and IO-

cating in just which room Salobin might be kept

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prisoner would take a lot of doing. But before T could

even begin searching the rooms, I'd have to get inside

the castle. How? At that moment, I didn't even have

the germ of an idea.

For one thing, there were the security guards. Ao-

cording to what Biro's friendk had reported, the place

was crawling with them. so even if I did manage to get

inside the place and begin a room-by-room search for

Salobin, how far would I get before Korla's men would

be on to me? At the most I'd have ten minutes. But

even if got lucky and did locate Salobin, where would

it get me? If getting in would be tough, getting out

would be tougher yet. With the place loaded with elec-

tronic_surveillance devices, we'd end up as fat targets

for Korla's gun-toting goons.

"Nick,it I said to myself, "there just has to be a bet-

ter way." I sighed inwardly. "Okay, what?" I shook my

head. I had no idea.

J drove the questions out of my mind and swung to

my feet. I trudged around to get the circulation back in

my legs, and then I remembered I hadn't eaten. I got a

enn of dried beef from the pack and a package of

biscuits. What I really needed was a cup ot black

coffee, but I had left the portable stove in the Fiat, and

I didn't want to risk an open fire. I ate slowly, my back

up ngaiost one of the boulders and the binoculars

banging by their neck cord acroSs my chest. When I

was finished, I kicked some dirt loose with the heel of

my boot, deep enough to bury the empty can. I took a

few swallows of water from my thermos and lit up a

cigarette. The long wait went on.

At a little past six the sun was well over to my left.

The slanted rays backlighted the castle and the encir-

cling wall took on a purplish hue. It wouldn't be long

before dusk would set in, and I was ready to call it

quits for the day and head back for the car. I was

about to buckle on the backpack when two pinpoints

Of light showed up behind the castle's main gate. I

dropped the pack, grabbing the binoculars. It was a

car, a big black limo, and though the light was

dimming it had the same familiar lines of the one Korla

had used in Beirut. Moments later the gates swung

open and the car rolled through. it cleared the

gates it stopped, and the driver got out.

I recognized him instantly. It was the big guy, the

chauffeur who came close to strangling me after I had

slapped Korla the night we had met at the inn. He

came around to the front of the car and squatted down

to check the left tire. A moment later the rear win--

dow rd]ed down and Korla's head popped into view.

He seemed to shout something at the chauffeur, and

the big guy straightened up in a hurry, ran around to

the driver's side and hopped hack in.

I watched them through the glasses as the car slowly

made its way down the winding, graveled driveway.

When it reached the highway it turned left and beaded

north toward Dubrovnik.

I put the glasses down and settled back against the

boulder. It was just 6:30, and it squared away with the

report Biro had received from his Yugoslavian friends

that Korla would take off each evening around this time

for a presumed roll in the hay with the bureaucrat's

straying wife. If it were true, it would be another piece

of information worth considering, but just where it

might fit in, I couldn't imagine. Meanwhile, I Shanged

plans about heading back for the Fiat. I had to know

when Korla would return.

It turned out to be another long wait. The night

turned particularly dark, with no moon and only a

sprinkling Of stars. I could just barely make out the

distant cliff, and almost nothing of the castle, except

for a few lights at some scattered windows.

At intervals I dozed off, but just for brief moments.

Time dragged. By ten o'clock the traffic 00 the high*

way was almost nonexistant. Occasionally a car would

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NICK CARTER: KIELMASTER

flash by. its headlights piercing the thin mist that

seeped down from the wooded stopes.

Midnight came and went. I began to wonder if Korta

would be gone all night. A half-hour later, whcn I was

tx.•ginning to get very restless, j heard the car. Seconds

later the headlights stabbed the velvety darkness. I

raised the binoculars to my eyes. watched the limo as

it slowed down, following it as it made its turn off the

highway and onto the graveled driveway that wound its

way to the castle. I continued to watch as it made its

climb up the gravel path. The castle's gates, undoubt-

eddy electronically controlled, swung open as the car

approached. It passed through, its taillights glowing

like twin coals. Slowly, the gates swung shut.

I checked the luminous hands of my watch. It was

almost one. Korla had, been gone about six hours. Ei-

ther the girl was very good, or Korla needed a lot Of

recovery time. Frankly, I was too tired to give the sub-

ject much thought as I carefully made my •way down

the slope. When I reached the tree line I got out the

flashlight to help me locate the foot trail. i found it

soon enough and quickly made it back to the road.

About fifteen minutes later reached the field where I

had parked the Fiat.

I was too tired to bother making coffee. r got the

sleeping bag out of the luggage, spread it out on the

ground, unzipped it and slipped in.

A forest is never totally silent. I heard running

water, probably a brook somewhere. A tree toad

peeped sharply and his lady love peeped back. Maya

came to mind. I vividly recalled our night together at

the inn and the way her delicately scented body had

molded itself to mine. Her sexuality had taken me

by surprise, but in a most pleasant way. Her face

floated before my closed eyes as I drifted off into sleep.

CHAPTER 12

T awoke with the birds and located the stream I had

heard during the night. I splashed some water on my

face, brushed my teeth and refilled both thermos

bottles. When I returned, I got out the small butane

stove. primed it, and soon had a fire going. Breakfast

was instant coffee, a tin of smoked sardines and another

package of crackers. I made a careful job of cleaning

up, then replaced the stove in the car's luggage section

and buckled on my pack. I made up a whole thermos

of black coffee to take, along. It wasn't much after

seven when I started out. I crossed the field, retracing

the steps I had taken the day before. The castle

showed no activity when I walked briskly by, and

afterward I found the narrow foot trail that led to the

woods.

J took my position as before, my back against one of

the tx)ulders and the binoculars slung across my chest.

At intervals I scanned the castle's walls and windows

but didn't catch a glimpse of any sign Of life until

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around noon, when a tall, bearded guy came out

through the gate leading a large Doberman. The dog

pranced, high-stepping from the end of its leash, and

the man kept tugging at it to keep the skittish animal

in fine. The pair quickly rounded the castle's outer wall

and that was the last I saw of thcm.

During the next two hourg nothing happened. But.

at 2:30, a small delivery van turned off the highway

and slowly made its way up the castle's graveled drive-

way. I checked it through the binoculars. Lettered on

the side of the ven in the Cyrillic alphabet were the

words: Govedlna & and pork." Ob-

viously Korla was laying in some provisions.

When the gates swung open, the van quickly passed

through and the gates closed. About twenty minutes

later the van reappeared at the gates and was let out. It

took its time coming down the fairly steep drive, then

turned right at the highway and headed south. I

checked my watch. It was just 3:00. I had finished off

most of the coffee by now and was feeling hungry. I

rummaged through the pack and selected a tin of

canned beef, opening it with one of those little metal

keys and spooned some out. Jt was over S91ted and

greasy. I ate less than half and buried the rest. It took

two cigarettes to kill the taste.

By six, my 'cg muscles were cramped with fatigue.

Dusk was coming on fast and the sky first turned fawn

color behind the castle's soaring turrets, then a blush-

ing pink as the sun started to set. I was a bit curious by

now. Would the previous evening's scenario be re-

peated? I didn't have long to wait. About twenty

minutes later the glow of distant beadlamps ap-

proached the castle's gates.

When the gates swung open, Kor!a's limo moved out

and down the winding driveway. At the highway it

promptly turned left.

It gave me something to think about. Once doesn't

mean always, but twice in a row suggests a pattern. It

was imput data that could be useful. Meanwhile, I had

another long wait ahead of me.

Jt was close to I •.00 again, and I was down to the

last cigarette in my pack when the limo finally returned

I watched it snake its way back up the driveway

and through the open gates into the darkness beyond. I

was ready to close shop for the night. I stood up,

buckled on my backpack and then carefully groped my

way back down the slope. I soon made it back to the

Fiat. I was really bushed by the time I got out the

sleeping bag and must have dropped off to sleep only

seconds after I crawled in end zipped up.

I awoke early again the following morninm hut was

in no hurry about getting back to my spotter's position

on the slopes. I got the stove going. heated up some

water and shaved by means of the Fiat's sideview mir-

ror- All at once I hungered for a decent meal. so I

tossed my gear into the Fiat's luggage section and took

off. After crossing the lumpy field I turned right and

headed for Dubrovnik.

I made it in around forty minutes and found a park-

ing spot in front of a restaurant on Prijcko, one of Du-

brovnik's main thoroughfares. My outdoor table

offered a good view of the Sponza Palace with its huge

clock tower. After I had finished off a platter of

scrambled eggs and spicy sausage, plus two cups of re-

ally great coffee, I was feeling a lot better. I alse

figured it was a good time to try and contact Biro.

rnere was a phone kiosk to one side of the dining

area, but when I failed to reach Biro at his hotel, I had

the operator route the call to his mobile camper on IO-

cation. At the third ring be picked it up, recognizing

my voice instantly.

"Christ, buddy!" he bmmed. "You've had us wor-

I told him where I was, but since it was a public

phone I went very easy on the details. I told bim I had

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NICK CARTER: KTUMASTER

a few more things to check out at this end before-start-

ing back for Kotor.

0 'Have you come up with anything definite so far?"

he asked.

"Maybe," I replied. "Just maybe."

I then switched subjects and asked about Maya.

"She's fine," he assured me, "but a little anxious

about seeing you. Can I tell her when?"

"Right now, I'd say tomorrow evening sometime.

Around eight."

We hung up shortly afterward, and I spent most Of

the late morning and afternoon on a walking tour of

the city. Around five I got back to the Fiat, stepped

briefly at gas station to fill up, and then headed south

again for Korla's castle. Traffic remained lights and

though I kept a constant eye out for a possible tail, I

saw nothing.

It wasn't quite an hour later when I carefuny eased

the Fiat into its old hiding place under the trees at the

far end of the field. I cut the ignition and checked my

watch. It wasn't quite six, but the shadows were

lengthening and a few stars already showed in the

mauve sky. I didn't bother with the backpack, but I

took the binoculars.

I crossed the field, then followed it along the edge

where it bordered the highway's shoulder. I kept within

the shadow of the tangled weeds when I passed the

castle. kept going straight until I reached the familiar

break in the trees where the foot trail led upwards.

This time, however, r didn't take it all the way up.

About half-way up, I found a point that gave a fair

view of the castle's gravel driveway.

I checked my watch. It was 6:25. Less than five

minutes later I felt my pulse starting to race as the two

tiny beams of light appeared behind the castle's

shadowy gates. I raised the binoculars to my eyes,

watching the black limo make its slow descent. Once

again it turned north toward Dubrovnik.

I let the binoculars go slack on its cord and dug into

my pocket for a cigarette. lit up, took a deep drag

and let the smoke come out slowly. {When something

happens three nights running you've got to believe that

more than just chance is involved. I had spotted a pat-

tern. Actually, it didn't matter whether Korla was re-

ally screwing the bureaucrat's wife, or sitting up with a

sick friend. But what did matter was that each night,

for three nights running, he had left his fortress at a

precise time and returned at an equally predictable

time. It was a starting point of a kind, something to

build on.

When Biro had asked me whether I bad come op

with anything definite, I had still drawn nothing but

blanks. But now something nad started to sprout. Ad-

mittedly, it was a wild idea, but I was scarcely in a

position to be choosy. As I worked my way back down

the slope, heading back for the Fiat, I began giving my

plan ser'ious thought.

I got back and was inside the sleeping bag, but

tonight I didn't fall asleep easily. For more than an

hour I kept toying with ideas, checking the possibilities

against the percentages of pulling it off. No matter how

I figured it, tbe odds remained staggering. "Nick," I

said to myself, gyou've got to be crazy. You've gone

strictly bananas on this one."

Bananas or not, I couldn't shake it loose.

The following morning I was off to an early start. I

didn't bother with any breakfast. I threw the sleeping

bag into the luggage compartment and backed the Fiat

out from under the trees. I got back on the highway, i"

heading south. I passed the castle, still shrouded in

morning mist and sped right by. I watched the sun

come up, the broad shafts of light turning the Adriatic

into burnished gold. I drove through a small number of

villages, until I came to Cavtat, the town where I bad

stopped for lunch when I had first set out for Korla's

castle.

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Cavtat is a combination fishing village and resort,

and I remembered seeing a number Of marinas when I

had driven through the first time. Turning Off the main

cobblestoned street, I drove to the docks that lined the

picturesque bay. Boats of every description, powered as

well as sails, and swung on their anchor chains.

I parked in an open area alongside a stack of lobster

traps and got out.

A row of weathered jetties extended Into the sea,

each with its own docking site. The second one looked

interesting. niere was a shack at the far end, and when

I was about half-way there, an Old man appeared in

the doorway.

He was rake thin, and when he shuffled up, he

doffed his cap politiely. "Dobro jutro," he greeted me.

He seemed very anxious to please.

I glanecd at some of the boats tied up at the far end

of the jetty. "Camci u zakup," I asked. "Were any of

the boats for hire?"

I had already spotted something that interested

me—a compact flybridge-cabin boat that was mc»red

at the fur end of the jetty. I pointed to it and asked if

that one was available.

"Da," he grinned. It was, and he went on to say that

it had just been brought in that morning by an English-

man who had rented it for two weeks. When we

walked down the jetty to get a closer look, I liked it

even more. By the way it sat on the water, I could tell

that it had a shallow draught, which made it even more

suitable for the purpose I had in mind.

The rental rate by the day was 300 dinars--—about

twenty-five dollars. I told him I was interested, and

that I'd take it for the day on a trial basis. If I liked it,

I might go with it for the rest of the week.

He pumped his head eagerly and his friendly grin

widened. He said he'd have it fueled up and ready to

go in less than an hour. I thanked him and told him I'd

be back after I had something to eat.

I had breakfast in a nearby dockside restaurant, and

by the time I'd eaten and paid the check, more than

half an hour had gone by. I did a few turns around the

dock area and then strolled back to the marina. When

I walked out on the jetty the old man waved in greet-

ing. Everything was ready to go. I got out my wallet

and peeled off three 100-dinar notes to cover the day's

rental. He thanked me, pocketed the bills and handed

over the keys.

"Srécan put," be smiled. "Have a nice trip." I

thanked him and hopped aboard.

The engines responded nicely when I hit the igni-

tion, and I headed north, in the direction of Korlats

castle. I was in no great rush, and I intended to take

some time to test the boat's responses. It didn't take

much to know that I had a gocxi boat under me.

I heeled sharply from starboard to port a couple of

times to check the degree of list it would take, and she

righted herself remarkably well and fast each time.

Power was no problem either. I put her through a few

deep S-curves, and the twin diesels delivered with an

authoritative growl at the slightest touch of the throttle.

Once I had put her through her paces, I settled for a

cruising speed, and about an hour-and-a-half later, I

approached the castle atop the cliff high above the sea.

I cut back on the speed, and as I slid past, I focused in

on it with my binoculars. The back view was no more

revealing than the front. From the castle's base, the

rocky cliff dropped almost perpendicularly into the sea.

There was no beach, just a surrounding jumble of par-

tially submerged boulders awash in the foaming surf.

About a nuJe beyond the castle, I spun the wheel

hard, completing a full U-turn. On the way back, after

J had passed the casde, I began to edge in toward

shore. This particular stretch of coastline is dotted with

coves and inlets, and I explored several before finding

one to my liking. It was located about three miles bee

low the castle, which made it close enough, and it was

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NICK CARTER: XlttMASTER

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fairly free of rocks. What I liked in particular wag that

it was deep enough to bring the boat right in to shore

without the risk of grounding it.

As I nudged uguwainst the embankment, T cut the

engines and listened. From beyond the weed covered

shore came the distant hum of traffic, the occasional

whine of tires. I judged the highway to be less than

fifty yards away. It was perfect.

One of the final things I did before leaving was to

locate the inlet's position on one of the sea maps I

found in the desk drawer of the boat's cabin. When I

had the information right, I jotted down the longitude

and latitude. As seas go, the Adriatic isn't very wide,

and at this point, the Italian coastline was no more

than 120 nautical miles due west at the very most. Af-

ter I made a note of this in my pad, I started up the

engines, slipped the boat through a tight V-turn and

beaded out to sea again.

The wind was to my hack, and with the boost from

a fast moving current, was able to make the return

trip to Cavtat in just a bit over an hour. When I put-

putted up to the jetty, the old man was already out of

the shack. He waved, and a moment later he caught

the line I threw him and secured me snugly alongside.

I liked everything about the boat, and when I

followed him into the shack I told him that I'd take it

for the next five days. I also told him that it might take

a day or two before I'd be getting back, but that he

was to refill the tanks, plus the spares, and have every-

thing ready to go no matter when I'd show up. To ease

his mind. I told him I was prepared to pay him in ad-

vance. He grinned happily, pumping his bead up and

down and said "Da, Da" repeatedly, Everything, he as-

sured me, would be just the way I wanted it.

Satisfied, I got out my wallet and handed over three

500-dinar notes to cover the rental, 1 also peeled off an

extra fifty and held it out to him, but he politely shook

his head and refused. I tried imagining a New York

cabbie or head waiter refusing a tip. Impossible!

I killed the next few hours hanging around town. I

was very eager to get back to Maya, but a nagging un-

certainty had to be resolved. I wandered around the

town's narrow, winding streets, peering into shop win-

dows, and finally stopped for a bite at a small restau-

rant. I ordered a Iamb' dish with rice and a bottle of

local beer. I ate slowly and it was around five when I

got up to pay the check. It came to a bit over a dollar,

including the state service charge. Incredible.

When I got back to the Flat and started up, the tank

registered less than a quarter full. I found a service sta-

tion just outside town, filled up, and then headed

north, back in the direction of Korla's castle. It was a

few minutes past six when I zipped past the place, but

this time I didn't see the need of concealing the Fiat

between the trees on the far side of the deserted field.

Instead, I continued on for about a quarter of a mile,

and then pulled over to the side and parked beneath

the shadow of a massive, roadside oak.

I killed the engine and waited. At intervals I glanced

into the sideview mirror that gave an unobstructed

view of the road behind. Traffic was light as usual.

Gradually, the dusk closed in, mantling the distant hills

and peaks in a misty, purplish haze. Soon I heard the

thin whine of approaching tires. I checked the mirror

just in time to see the headbeams arcing the dark as

the car cut onto the highway. I slumped down in the

seat. Moments later Korla's familiar limo swept by. I

let out a sigh Of relief as I watched it speed off to Du-

brovnik.

I waited until the taillights vanished before starting

up the car. Cutting bard, I made a U-turn and beaded

south.

I was glad I had double-checked. Illis was the

fourth night running that Korla had taken off. The pat-

tern was holding. It was as much as I could hope for. I

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

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toed the accelerator and the Fiat responded smartly. I

rolled down the driver's window and listened to the

wind rushing by. All at once I was in one hell Of a

burry to get back to Maya.

It was almost 8:30 when arrived in Kotor, and I

drove directly to Maya's small cottage. The place

looked dark when I pulled around to the side of the

house, but when I braked and switched off the ignition,

the small, overhead porch light glowed on. I got out,

slamming the door shut behind me and went around to

the front. Before I could ring, the door opened slightly.

"Nick?" came the low whisper.

I stepped into the darkness, kicking the door shut. A

moment later her naked body was in my arms, her

head buried against my chest.

was worried." she whispered. "Biro told me you

would be returning tonight. I was hoping you would

come here first and

We kissed lightly and t drew her close, her soft,

rounded breasts straining against me. Her tongue

glided into my mouth. Drawing back, quickly

slipped her hand in mine.

"Come," she pleaded.

She led the way through the narrow dark hallway

and into the dimly lit bedroom. Her hair hung loose

and free. She smiled, then offered her mouth, We

kissed repeatedly. When we finally broke and she

moved toward the bed, I probably executed the fastest

strip I had ever done in my life. When I joined her on

the bed she hovered above me.

"Let me." she whispered. "Please w"

She began with feathery kisses. First my mouth. then

on to my throat and chest. her scented breasts moving

lightly across me. Fiery currents rippled through me,

fanning out in all directions. By the time her moist lips

touched my groin. I was as ready as I'd ever be.

She gave a little cry, buried her head lower yet. The

fiery currents became rivers of flame. I caught her up,

rolled her under me. Our mOuths locked. Gently, her

slender legs slid upwards along my thighs and she

opened to me. She was all giving, all churning motion.

We moved as one as wave after wave of sensual

pleasure pounded through our bodies. At the very end

she moaned deeply, gave a final convulsive shudder

and relaxed in my arms.

I pushed a damp lock of bair from her forehead and

kissed her lightly on the lips.

She smiled. "Are you going to run off again? Right

I shook my head, pressed my lips against her open

mouth.

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toed the accelerator and the Fiat responded smartly. I

rolled down the driver's window and listened to the

wind rushing by. All at once I was in one hell Of a

burry to get back to Maya.

It was almost 8:30 when arrived in Kotor, and I

drove directly to Maya's small cottage. The place

looked dark when I pulled around to the side of the

house, but when I braked and switched off the ignition,

the small, overhead porch light glowed on. I got out,

slamming the door shut behind me and went around to

the front. Before I could ring, the door opened slightly.

"Nick?" came the low whisper.

I stepped into the darkness, kicking the door shut. A

moment later her naked body was in my arms, her

head buried against my chest.

was worried." she whispered. "Biro told me you

would be returning tonight. I was hoping you would

come here first and

We kissed lightly and t drew her close, her soft,

rounded breasts straining against me. Her tongue

glided into my mouth. Drawing back, quickly

slipped her hand in mine.

"Come," she pleaded.

She led the way through the narrow dark hallway

and into the dimly lit bedroom. Her hair hung loose

and free. She smiled, then offered her mouth, We

kissed repeatedly. When we finally broke and she

moved toward the bed, I probably executed the fastest

strip I had ever done in my life. When I joined her on

the bed she hovered above me.

"Let me." she whispered. "Please w"

She began with feathery kisses. First my mouth. then

on to my throat and chest. her scented breasts moving

lightly across me. Fiery currents rippled through me,

fanning out in all directions. By the time her moist lips

touched my groin. I was as ready as I'd ever be.

She gave a little cry, buried her head lower yet. The

fiery currents became rivers of flame. I caught her up,

rolled her under me. Our mOuths locked. Gently, her

slender legs slid upwards along my thighs and she

opened to me. She was all giving, all churning motion.

We moved as one as wave after wave of sensual

pleasure pounded through our bodies. At the very end

she moaned deeply, gave a final convulsive shudder

and relaxed in my arms.

I pushed a damp lock of bair from her forehead and

kissed her lightly on the lips.

She smiled. "Are you going to run off again? Right

I shook my head, pressed my lips against her open

mouth.

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129

CHAPTER 13

I was awakened a little after seven by Maya's soft kiss

on my cheek. She was up and dressed, smiling radi-

antly as she held out my shaving kit.

"I knew you'd be wanting this, so I brought it from

the car. And now, what would you like for breakfast?"

I thanked her, and told bcr that coffee and toast

would be enough. I was rather eager to see Biro on

some final points.

While Maya left for the kitchen. I went to the

bathroom. I lathered up, shaved quickly and somehow

managed to nick myself not only once, but twice. I

splashed cold water on my face, toweled myself dry

and went Out to the kitchen. Coffee was on the table,

and a pan Of scrambled eggs was on the stove.

Maya kissed me on the mouth. "Toast is not enough

for a man to start his day," she laughed. "Start pouring

your coffee and I'll get some plates."

The eggs were excellent.. as was the coffee. We sat

opposite each other in the small sunlit kitchen, and

128

though I tried to hide it, she must have sensed my

restless thoughts. Our time together was swiftly run-

ning out, and there was in fact—that I

could do to extend it.

Suddenly, she coverqd my hand with hers. "What is

it, Nick? I don't want you to tell me what you can't.

But I am •worried. About you. About so much e..

There was very little I could say.' "I know you're

imagining all sorts of things," I said quietly, "terrible

things, perhaps." I paused, searching for the right

words, and her clear violet eyes never left mine. "i'm

in Yugoslavia on a very delicate matter," I continued.

"All I can say is that an elderly man is being held a

prisoner here, and friends of his in my country have

asked me to help if I can. It requires sensitive negotia-

tions, and as you know from the experience we had

when we were driving to the inn, there are others who

would do everything to keep me from succeeding."

She nodded thoughtfully, then frowned. "But then

why not go to the police? Surely, this would be a mat-

ter for them."

I shrugged. "Ordinarily, yes. But not in a matter Of

this kind. There are areas in which the police can't

help. In fact, all involvement must be avoided. And

this is one of them. Trust me on that."

She sighed, squeezed my hand. "I trust you. But if

there were some way I could help---no matter what it

was all you have to do is ask."

I got up and went around to her side Of the table.

She stood up and for several moments I held her close.

"Thank you, Maya," I whispered.

She grinned up at me. "And now you must go again.

Isn't that so?" She was forcing herself to be cheerful,

and I loved her all the more for it.

While Maya cleared the table, I went into the bed-

room and phoned Biro's hotel, but the clerk said he

had already left for work I thanked him and hung up.

I offered to drive Maya out to location, but there were

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

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some things she had to do and she didn't want to hold

me up. We walked out to where I had parked.

gome back tonight," she said. "Please •

I promised I'd try. It was the best I could do.

ess than twenty minutes later I had parked the Fiat

behind Biro's mobije camper I knocked on the door

and Biro opened up, a steaming cup of coffee clutched

in his hairy fist.

"Christ!" he bellowed. "Long time no scep

Closing the door behind us, he waved to a chair

piled with magazines and newspapers. Scooping them

up, he tossed them on the littered table, then went to

the bubbling coffee maker and began pouring another

mug.

"Okay," he said handing it to me, "is there anything

you'd like to talk about? Not that you have to."

I grinned, then took a sip of the scalding coffee.

Despite his gruff approach, Biro fully respected my

right to say nothing. Accordingly, I told him what I felt

to be best at the moment; his Yugoslavian friends bad

provided productive information—up to a vvint.

"And the Russian." Biro asked. "Do you think

Korla has him in the castle?'t

I nodded. "Positive. I can't see it any other way.

Anyway, it's what I'm counting on."

"So you've come up with something? Some practical

"Hardly practical/' admitted. "What I'm going on

is part conjecture, part intuition and part calculated

guess. But it's all I've got. Naturally I'd like having

more, but you know the game. When time's running

out, you go with what you've got."

He scowled over his mug. "I know exactly what you

mean, Nick. Hawk and I faced plenty of situations like

this back in the war." He paused, and his bushy brows

knotted thoughtfully. "But what about the other

business, Nick? mean those three attempts to wipe

you out, It's part of the imput data you've got to con-

sider."

I hadn't forgotten. Still. for reasons I couldn't figure

out, they hadn't come after me since the night on the

road with Maya. Of course, that in no way meant they

had catted it quits, and I wouldn't allow myself to be-

lieve that for a minute. But they were holding off, and

I was damned happy about it. For one thing, it had

given me the necessary time to concentrate fully on

Korla. Meanwhile, there was something I needed from

Biro, and I went right into it.

"I'm going to need some extra fire power," I said,

"and I'm going to need it fast. In fact, t doubt if have

the time to make a request through the usual channels.

But with your shooting a war movie, and from what

I've seen, I was wondering—

"Hell. yes," he chuckled. "You've come to the right

guy. Our property departmeht's loaded. Itss a regu-

lar arsenel. A lot of it is blank ammo, of course,

but we've got the live stuff for when we go for extreme

realism in some of the scenes. Naturally, it's mostly

World War II hardware, but you're welcome to what-

ever you want."

When I told him that that would be fine, he grabbed

the phone and was soon through to his property man.

"Ryan," he barked, "I'm sending someone right over.

Give him anything he wants. I mean anything. Riflcs,

ammo, grenades, whatever. You got that?"

Biro paused to listen, grunted a few times, then hung

up.

"It's all set," he grinned. "Take anything you want.

and don't worry about Ryan. He was a sergeant who

served with our outfit back in the OSS days, and he

knows what a buttoned-up lip means. He probably

won't even tell me what you took."

When we left the camper, Biro pointed out the

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NICK CARTER: xrtLMASTER

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property shed, a Quonset but at the far end of the

open field.

"Come by when you're through." he said, "and we'll

have some lunch in the commissary."

I thanked him and hopped into the Fiat. When I

started up the engine, he pushed his craggy face

through the open driver's window. "It's Maya," he said

seriously. "I think she's gone bananas over you, Nick.

How much does she really know? About you?"

"Only my name, I hate doing it that way, but the

mask stays on. It has to. right?"

"No other way," he replied. "And it's got to be

tough on you, too." He shook his head, sighed and

stepped back. I toed the gas pedal and he waved as I

took off.

When T braked in front of the property building,

Ryan, a peppery-looking little guy in his early fifties,

wag waiting for me at the door. We shook hands

bricffy, and he led the way inside. As Biro had said,

the place was a regular arsenel. The choice in rifles

alone was staggering. The narrow aisles wore lined with

racks stacked with Gerands, Enfields, Mausers, plus

some Carcanos and Manntichers. The same was true of

the machineguns—row after row of Stens, Schmiesers

and American Thompsons.

I slipped a nompson off its rack, checked the

sights. The Thompson has a fairly short barrel, is on

the light side, and though its accuracy at middle and

far range isn't the greatest. its fire power on full auto-

matic is devestating.

"How about live ammo for this?" I asked.

"As much as you want," Ryan replied. "You say

how much, you got it."

told Ryan I'd take the Thompson, and that I'd like

a half-dozen oversized clips Of ammo. He nodded, and

the shopping tour continued.

There were some Very signal type pistols on a shelf,

so I took one, plus a box of flare cartridges to match. I

also selected a small- battery-operated bullhorn and a

fifty-foot coil of thin but tough nylon rope. There was

only one item left.

"Would you happen to have any smoke grenades?" I

asked.

Ryan grinned. "How many do you want? Fifty? A

hundred? We're loaded to the gills."

I laughed. told him a few would be fine, and he

came up with four. We then made a package of the

works, wrapping all of it up in a couple of large, green

plastic sheets that I carred out and stuffed into the

Fiat's cramped luggage compartment.

Ryan waved as I drove off. Biro's description of the

wiry Irishman was more than apt. He never once in-

quired why I wanted the stuff, or who I was. Unfortu-

nately, competent people like Ryan are in short supply

these daws.

At the last minute I decided against having lunch

with Biro. Time was running short. I did stop by his

camper, though, to thank him for his help, past and

present.

"Then how about dinner tonight?' he asked.

I shook my head. i'l can't. In fact, I may have to

drop out of sight again for a couple of days."

"So this time it's down the pipe all the way." He

stuck out his hand. 0 Whatever you're getting into,

Nick, the best of luck."

We shook on it.

I was soon on my way back to the hotel When I ar-

rived, I got the bundle out Of the Fiat's trunk, went

directly to my room and locked the door behind me.

AXE's cryptology division is first rate. Ordinarily, I

prefer direct communication with either Hawk or a lo-

cal AXE agent no matter what part of the world I may

happen to be in. But there are times when this just isn't

practical. This was one of them. To speak to Hawk

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

directly would mean getting to a scrambler phone to

insure total privacy, and the nearest one would be in

the U.S. Consulate in Belgrade and I didn't have time

to make the trip. In our last telephone conversation,

Kona had given me six days to come up with the

money and we were already into the fifth day. The

only other choice had was to go with the code book.

Basically, AXE's code makes use of the three-in-one

system, a combination Of numerals, symbols and vari-

ous phrase and phonic combinations. TO make it addi-

tionally fail-safe, the system is juggled about every six

months.

For the next three hours I labored over my memo

pad. -covering sheet after sheet of paper until I had

boiled the message down to about a half-page. I then

burnt all of the notes I had made, put the final message

inside my jacket pocket and left. Rather than use any

of the hotel lobby phones, I drove into town and found

a pay booth in a local pharmacy. I dialed the four-digit

number and at the second ring a man answered.

"Hello," he said in somewhat accented English.

I returned his greeting and asked if this wag the

Centura Travel Agency.

"Yes," be replied. "May 1 be of help?"

Tve a message for Mr. Kyle. Can you take it down

now?"

His voice suddenly turned brisk, all business. "All of

Mr. Kyle's messages have to be taken on tape. Is that

agreeable with you, sir?"

I assured him it was okay, but that I wanted him to

come back on once the message had been completed.

A slight whirring sound followed, and then a recorded

woman's voice came on, telling me to begin reading off

my message when the signal tone sounded. I got out

the sheet of paper, and at the sound of the bleep began

reading Off the message. When I finished I said that the

message was completed, and after a short wait the man

came back on.

TVRNCOAT

g,And now, sir?" he asked.

135

"l'll need confirmation on my message from Mr.

Kyle some time this evening."

S' Is it that urgent?"

"If it weren't I wouldn't ask."

I gave him my hotel phone number, a quick thank

you and hung up.

wrhen I got back to the car I lit a cigarette, then

touched the flaming match to a cornet Of the message.

When it flared up I let it drop into the dashboard

ashtray.

I had no idea how the coded message would be

routed, except that it would be relayed through some

secret transmitter to the nearest NATO signal base.

Confirmation would follow through some AXE logistic

center in either Italy or Spain.

On the drive back to the hotel I couldn't help admir-

ing the way Hawk had established AXE's intricate and

highly successful lines of communication on a round-

the-world basis. Even in Yugoslavia, a third-world

country with Soviet ties. he had managed to keep toe

in the door, Somehow, someway, the proper

connections had been worked out and pieced to-

gether—-another link in AXE's almost endless, hum-

ming chain of command.

V€hen I returned to my hotel room I called room

service and ordered a sandwich, a carafe of coffee and a

double shot of. scotch. Ten minutes later the bellhop

arrived with the tray.

I wolfed the sandwicb downt but spent more time on

the drink. Coffee came last, between puffs on a ciga-

rette- After grinding out the cigarette, I got the plastic

wrapped bundle from under thc bed. untied it, and got

to work on the Thompson submachinegun first.

I stripped it down carefully and oiled each part be-

fore reassembling it' I also checked the ammo clips,

snapping them in and out to make sure of their fit. I

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CARTER: KILLMASTER

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137

also checked the Very pistol, the bullhorn and gave

Wilhelmina, my small Luger, a thorough oiling. My fi-

nal bit of preperation was to hone a fine cutting edge

oa Hugo.

At around 8:30 the Ceåtura Travel Agency tele-

phoned me as promised. It was the same guy I had

spoken to that afternoon.

'(Mr. Kyle has confirmed your booking," he said. "It

will be held on a stand-by basis as requested for the

next three days."

thanked him, and when be clicked off r gave a

little sigh Of relief. It meant that my coded message

had been received and approved, and that proper ac-

tion would bc taken by those on the other end.

I finished off what coffee was left in the carafe and

lit another cigarette. There was still time to drop by

Maya's, and I bad to apply the brakes to keep myself

from driving out to her place. But I held back. I didn't

even call because I thought speaking to her would

weaken my resolve. I bate goodbyes, but if I brought

things off I'd be back. It was a promise I fully intended

to keep, depending on events.

An hour later I went downstairs to the bar for a

nightcap. It was a quiet scene. A couple sat in a comer

booth, holding hands, with eyes only for themselves. A

middle-aged man wearing thick-lensed glasses looked

up when I entered, then went back to reading his

newspaper. I ordered bourbon, but the bartender apol-

ogized for being out of it. American whiskey was hard

to come by. I settled for another scotch.

I nursed the drink, recalling what Biro had told me

about the prevelanee of spies who operated undet

many covers. Was the bartender one of them? The

couple? The man reading the newspaper? I shrugged,

got up and left a fifty-dinar note alongside my empty

glass. The couple paid no attention, and the guy with

the thick-lenses remained buried in his newspaper.

Frankly, r believed he'd have trouble seeing me even if

I stepped up and breathed in his face,

When I returned to my room I relocked the door

and was between the sheets in less ten minutes. It

took even less time to fall asleep.

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139

ne following morning I got Off to an early start. By

7:00 1 had paid my hotel bill and had carried the

plastic-wrapped bundle out to the Fiat and had man-

aged to cram it into the luggage section, along with the

backpack and other camping gear. After locking up, i

returned to the hotel's coffee shop for a quick breakfast

ot eggs. toast and coffee. I also had some 'sandwiches

made up, and told the waitress to fill both ot my ther-

mos bottles with black coffee. At a little past eight I

was on my way.

J drove slowly, under 60 kilometers, my eyes flicking

from time to time to the rearview mirror. Traffic was

brisk, and I'd occasionally pull over to let an oncoming

car go by, but things looked okay.

At one point I simply relaxed. By now the whole

strip of road had become quite familiar to me, and it

was a little after nine when I arrived in Cavtat.

Minutes later I pulled up alongside the jetty and

gave the horn a couple of bleeps. By the time 1 got out,

138

the old man who had rented me the boat appeared in

the shack's doorway.

He recognized me immediately and waved. "Kako

stet" everything was ready to go.

I Let him carry some of the camping gear on board,

but I managed the plastic bundle myself, When every-

thing was stashed away inside the small cabin under

the flybridge, I went bock to the Fiat. I checked the

front, rear and luggage compartments very thoroughly,

just to be sure I hadn't left anything behind that could

be traceable to me—including the butts in the ashtray.

When I finished, I drove the Fiat behind the small

tool shed that stood alongside the jetty and parked it io

the spot the old man had said I could use. I removed

the keys, and before boarding the boat I turned them

over to the old man.

"Sve najbolje," he grinned. "Cuvajge set" Good luck,

and keep well.

"Mnogo vam hvala." I called back. Thanks for ev-

erything.

Moments later I hit the ignition switches and the en-

gines came alive. The old man waved, and I waved

back. A light breeze sprang up as I headcd out to sea.

I was on my way.

About a mile or so out, I swung her around and

headed due north, my course directly parallel to the

rocky shoreline. The day was mild, the unclouded sky

a brilliant shade of blue. Occasionally, a sei!boat

scudded by, and once or twice a larger pleasure craft

came up from behind, overtaking me and then moving

ahead, its pounding engine churning the blue water

into a foaming wake.

It wasn't quite noon when the soaring cliff with

Korla's castle loomed off the starboard bow. I backed

off on the engines and began heading in for shore,

keeping an eye open for the small cove I had marked

Off on the map two days before. Minutes later I spotted

it and spun the wheel hard to port. When I entered the

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140

cove cut the engines to idling speed and drifted in to

shore. A few minutes later a light scraping sound vi-

brated through the hull and I switched off the power'

Thc stern swung left, thumping gently against the

marshy bank. I hauled out the small anchor and

dropped it over the side. So far so good.

I was in no great rush, so I went about my work

carefully. tne first thing I did was to get the weapon

bundle out of the cabin, and the backpack. I untied the

plastic sheeting and made a smaller bundle of the

Thompson, the ammo clips, the bullhorn and the

smoke grenades. I wrapped all of these together in one

of the plastic sheets and strapped it in place on the

backpack. I then tucked the Very pistol and the box ot

flares in a small storage compartment under the prow.

The last item was the coil of nylon rope, and I was

able to stuff this easily inside my jacket pocket. There

was nothing about the backpack's appearance to give

away what was inside the bulky bundle.

Satisfied, I got out the sandwiches and the coffee.

While I ate, I switched on the boat's short-wave re-

ceiver. Within seconds I picked up a broadcast from

the Italian mainland. It was a quartet, and s*hen the

music stopped the announcer gave the call letters of a

Bari station. A brief Italian newscast followed, then

more music. It was a Mozart piece and I listened for a

while, but not intently. I was thinking ahead.

In about three hours I'd have to leave. Suddenly. it

was all coming together. The final countdown had been

long in coming, but it had finally begun. The mission's

point-of-no-return had been reached. There could be

no going back.

I snapped off the radio and stretched out on the

deck. The only sounds were the gentle slaps of small

waves against the resonant hull. I set my inner clock

ahead for about two bours and quickly dropped off to

sleep.

I awoke at precisely 3:30. Some clouds ' had

gathered along the western horizon, but the sky over-

head was still a brilliant blue. I poured the last Of the

coffee from the first thermos and lit up a cigarette. Un-

seen birds chirped and scolded within the depths of the

swaying marsh weeds. At intervals a frog let out a

throaty croak. Beyond the weeds, where the embank-

ment rose at a fairly steep angle, came the whine of

tires as cars swept by on the highway some thirty yards

off.

After I killed another fifteen minutes I buckled on

the backpack and slipped the remaining sandwich in-

side my jacket pocket along with the boat's ignition

keys. Seconds later I stepped ashore. ne shoulder-

high weeds crackled and snapped as I pushed my way

through, and from time to time my boots sunk noisily

into the muddy earth.

I reached the embankment and scrambled up. At the

top, I turned and looked back in the direction of the

boat. The broad sweep of weeds hid it almost entirely

from view. So far so good. Turning, I moved out

through the high grass. Érom this point the highway

was less than twenty yards offt and I ducked at the

sound of an approaching car. I could just make it out

through the grass as it whizzed by. Moving in a crouch,

I quickly covered the remaining distance, stepped over

the guard rail and onto the highway.

I headed due north. Up aheadi the highway flowed

into an S-curve and I counted off the paces as I went.

The distance from where I started outt to the beginning

of the curve, came to about two-tenths of a mile. I

made a mental note of this.

I had already gauged the distance from the cove

where I had anchored the boat, to Korlais castle. to be

around three nautical miles, but I figured it would run

closet to four miles by way of the highway. I

maintained a good pace, about 120 steps to tbe minute,

and it was approximately three-quarters Of an hour

later when I saw thc castle bigh above the tree line to

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NICK CARTER: KitLMASTER

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my left. At this point r crossed over to the other side of

the' highway, stepped over the guard rail and entered

the flanking woods. About ten or so yards in I came

across a small clearing. I unbuckled the backpack, bal-

ancing it against the trunk Of a tree.

I checked my watch. It wasn't quite five. I was a bit

ahead of my schedule, which was just as well. There

was no chance of my being seen from the highway, so I

took out a cigarette. The sun was well over to the left,

moving toward the horizon. The light in the woods was

dimming fast. About thirty minutes later I buckled on

the backpack and headed back for the highway.

When I got there, dusk was already settling in. ne

sun had dipped below a bank of lavender clouds. I had

timed it just about right. A few early stars showed in

the horthem sky and much Of the landscape was al-

ready shrouded in shadows. Stepping over the guard

rail, I started up the highway, heading north. I kept

close to the shoulder and maintained a good hiking

stride. About a half-hour later, as the night darkened,

the dark bulk of the cliff loomed high above the tree

line to my right. Ten minutes later I breezed right by

the castle which was already cloaked in darkness.

When I had continued down the road for•about an-

Other quarter-of-a-mile, I quickly crossed the road and

began retracing my Steps.

I soon found what I wanted, a row of tangled

bushes. Ducking behind them, I squatted down behind

the thick cover. My position gave me fairly good view

of the castle's facade, with the front gates and the

winding gravel road leading down to the highway. It

was all I needed. I got out my binoculars and gave it a

careful going over. It looked no different than it had

the other days: NO sign Of life disturbed its tomb-like

appearanee gnd I settled down to wait.

Along the western horizon the sky still glowed where

the sun had set, and I watched it fade gradually, like

the house lights in a theater before the curtain goes up.

Minutes later the last of the light was gone. I checked

my watch. The luminous hands read 6:20. My impa-

tience began to grow. A great deal depended on the

next few minutes. At 6:25 1 went back to the binocu-

lars. I focused them on the castle's front gates,

straining to catch a glimpse of the limousine's head-

lights. Six-thirty came and went. Nothing happened. I

wiped the sweat from my forehead. Another five

minutes dragged by. Still nothing.

I cursed under my breaths For four nights running,

Korla had turned up with clock-like regularity. Why

the switch, I wondered. Suddenly, I began to feel edgy.

Had Koria caught wind of my spying? It was a possi-

bility.

I weighed the thought, wondering where I might

have slipped up. There were too many imponderables

to be able to pinpoint any one thing in particular.

There was also the possibility that Korla may have had

me under surveillance without my suspecting it. If so, I

could have been setting myself up without knowing it. I

glanced around. Nothing stirred. I strained my bearing,

but other than a slight, stirring breeze, heard nothing. I

rechecked my

Korla had given me six days to come up with the

money and a payoff plan, and this was the fifth. By to-

morrow I could run out of time and the picture could

be unalterably changed. I had set everything on

tonight, Everything.

I squirmed around on my heels. Another three, four

minutes dragged by. I pressed the binoculars to my

eyes and came close to letting out a whoop. Two

circles of light gleamed brightly, high up along the cliff.

Slowly they began their descent. I let the glasses go

slack on the cord and let out a sigh of relief. Gradu-

ally, the limo came down the long, winding driveway.

At the point where it met the highway it peused briefly,

then swung left, heading north as usual for Dubrovnik.

As it slid past my cover, I peered from between the

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NICK CARTER: KTLLMASTER

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bushes and caught a quick glimpse of Korla's huge-

bulk hunched up on the back seat.

"About time, you fat bastard," I grinned. I was

feeling a hell of a lot better.

When the taillights winked off in the distant gloom,

left my cover. Keeping closé to the bushes I followed

the highway to the point where it was joined by the

gravel road that led up to thc castle. They formed a

kind of fork, with the main highway continuing south

while the graveled road branched off. breaking away

into a sweeping curve on its upward climb.

Satisfied, I retraced my steps to a point about sixty

feet below the fork. A patch of thick, waist-high grass

bordered the shoulder, dense enough to offer rea-

sonable cover, but with enough breaks in between to

observe cars coming in either direction. I moved into

the grass, slipped off the backpack and squatted down.

I untied the bulky bundle that contained the military

hardware and removed the Thompson machinegun. I

thumbed it on safety and rammed in one of the ammo

clips. I then slipped the remaining three clips inside my

right jacket pocket, along with the coil of nylon rope.

nere was also the bullhorn and the smoke grenades,

and I sct them aside on one of the plastic sheets.

1 placed the Thompson on the ground beside me.

The countdown was on at last. Meanwhile, I rnade no

point Of thinking too far ahead. Even the best of plans

bave a way of taking unexpected turns, and what I had

in mind could hardly called a sure thing. It was an

outside •shot, the kind of gambling odds that would

make Hawk fume. He would have labeled it "hare-

brained—sheer lunacy." And he would have been

right. But under the circumstances it was the best I

could come up with. It was as simple as that.

The first couple Of hours seemed to last forever.

watched the stars come out, listened to the cars as they

drove by my position. By ten the traffic had slowed

down, with only one or two cars or an occasional truck

lumbering by over a span of ten or fifteen minutes. By

eleven they were coming by even less frequently.

I watched a late, almost full moon come up, rising

slowly from beyond a rim of distant hüls like a giant,

silver balloon. Gradually, it began its westward drift,

appearing and disappearing between banks of dark

clouds.

Somewhere along the way I finished off the last

sandwich and poured some coffee from the second

thermos. I followed this with another cigarette, and

when I ground out the butt I checked my watch. It was

12:08. On the other nights when I had kept watch,

Korla had returned around one, give or take five

minutes. This left around forty-Eve minutes to run

through my final preparations.

First, I rechecked the Thompson, making certain the

clip was firmly in place. NextS I tested the bullhorn, ae-

tivating the on-off switch and blowing gently into the

mouthpiece. It made a slight crackling sound that indi-

cated it was operative. The smoke grenades came last.

I put one Of them alongside the bullhorn, and slipped

the other two inside my left jacket pocket.

By now road traffic had fallen off to a trickle and I

was depending heavily on this. At this point no vehicle

bad passed in either direction for almost twenty

minutes. At around 12:30 1 fiddled with the Thomp-

son's gunsling adjusting it to a position that felt com-

fortable when I slipped it over my left shoulder. At

about 12:40 the lights of an approaching car, heading

south in my directiont blazed brilliantly as it topped the

rise in the road. I tensed momentarily, but it roared

right by, blue exhaust trailing in its wake. For the next

ten minutes, no further cars appeared.

It was a bit past 12:50 when the moon, with almost

perfect timing, slipped out from behind a cloud cover.

Pale, silvery light illuminated the highway as focused

my attention north in the direction from which Korla

would be coming. It wasn't more than a few seconds

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NICK CARTER: Ktt.tMASTER

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147

later when r heard the faint whine of approaching tires.

I reached down with my right hand and picked up the

smoke grenade. I was well within the thick patch of

grass, only a bit of my head poking out. The sound

grew louder. The glow of headlamps appeared over the

rise. There was no mistaking the black limo as it began

slowing down, edging toward the shoulder to pick up

the gravel road that led up to the castle.

r waited until it was about ten yards away before

pinning the grenade. It made a slight popping sound,

and I made my underhand toss in edvanee Of the

oncoming car. It landed on the sandy shoulder and

went into a spluttering spin. There was a brief, blue-

white flash, a muffled swoosh and suddenly a mush-

rooming cloud of dense smoke billowed skyward.

Brakes screeching, the limo slid past my position,

jcrking to a halt. A split second later the driver's door

burst open and the chauffeur leaped out. He leaped

around to the front end of tbe car, running toward the

smoking column for a moment before pulling up short.

slipped the off my shoul into a crouch and sped toward him. His back was to

me, his knees bent, as though he were trying to ICX)k

under the cloud to see what was causing it. I spun the

Thompson around, gipping it by the barrel like a

baseball bat. He heard me coming, but before he could

straighten up I drove the gun's solid wood stock smack

up between his crotch. He let out an anguished cry, his

bands clutching at his groin as he fell. He hit the

ground face down, making wet, grunting sounds as his

stomach emptied.

Pivoting, I raced back to the limo and yanked open

the rear door. I dragged Korla out, slamming his back

hard against the door. His puffy eyes had a dazed, be-

wildered look. For a second or two he just stared, and

then recognition hit him.

"Carter!" be gasped.

I thumbed the Thompson off safety and slipped the

muzzle under his trembling. flabby chin.

"Move!" I snapped.

I pushed him toward the front of the car and he

stumbled and came close to falling. I grabbed bim by

the jacket, swung his bulk around and propped him up

against the front fender. Some of the initial bewilder-

ment was gone now. His control was coming back, so I

prodded lhe Thompson's barrel against his ribs, to

keep him running scared.

Sweat beaded his upper lip and dripped from the

corners of his slack mouth. He swallowed, choking on

his saliva. "What's going on?" he blurted. "W—-what?"

I slapped the engine hood with my palm- "Up you

go, Korla. On the double."

He shook his head with disbelief. "N----no."

I punched the Thompson's stock into his gut, just

bard enough to knock him off balance. He toppled

back, arms flapping. I used my shoulder, ramming it

into his chest and shoved him up and over the fender

and onto the hood. He lay there on his back, panting,

the top of his head just below the windshield* He was

really sweating rivers now. I slung the Thompson over

my shoulder, dipped into my jacket pocket and came

up with the coil of nylon rope.

A man stretched out on his back is literally helpless,

End that's the way I wanted Korla. I wanted him

helpless and terrified, and I was getting it both ways.

Now I intended to add the element of shock and sap

what remaining will was left and make him totally sub-

missive to my demands.

'VDo as you're told," I wamed him, "and you might

go on living. Try anything and I'll crack your skull like

an eggshell."

I quickly threw a coil of rope ground his right

ankle, giving it a couple of tums and yanking it tight.

He let out a whimpering cry, but when I made a move

for the Thompson he choked it off. I threw a second

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CARTER: KTUMASTER

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149

loop around the same ankle and threaded the free end

of the rope down between the bumper. I gave it a

couple of turns around the bumper guard, threaded the

end back up again and then Jgxjped it a couple of times

around his left ankle.

The rest went quickly.' r brought the rope down

again, gave it a couple of more turns around the

bumper, then up across Kotta's chest and then another

loop around his right wrist. I knotted it tightly and

then tied what was left of the rope to the car's right,

sideview mirror: This left Korla spread-eagled, but with

his left band free--—whicb was precisely what I wanted.

Turning, darted back toward the patch Of grass

where I had left the bullhorn. About halfway there I

heard a light shuffling sound. I spun toward it. The

chauffeur had partially recovered and was tQ'ing to

pull himself up. When I closed in, he turned, his hand

fumbling inside his tunic. He came up with a soub-

nosed automatic, but his hand wobbled badly. I

whacked him across the knuckles with the flat side of

the Thompson's stock and the gun went spinning off

into the roadside bushes. Cursing, be began tottering to

his feet. I jabbed the sgcck through a short arc and the

steel butt plate caught hirn under the chin. There was a

dry, snapping sound and he spilled over on his back.

I waitcd a few seconds, but he didn't budge. Turn-

ing, r ran back to the patch of grass, scooped up the

bullhorn and hustled back to Korla. eyes bulged

with terror as I slipped the Thompson off my shoulder.

I touched the muzzle to his left ear I could feel

his flesh quiver.

"Okay. Korla," T said flatly. "You listen carefully

because I'm only going to say it once. In a few minutes

you're going to get the chance to save your fat hide.

you're going to do is to teu your goons to bring

Salobin out, and he'd better be in good shape. Now if

you do exactly ag you're told, I promise NI cut you

loose later on. But remember, you're a fat, juicy target.

Try any tricks, get your men to open fire and VII blow

the top of your head off right through the windshield."

I backhanded him twice across the face to make sure

the message had sunk through.

"You understand?"

"What makes you so sure Salobin is here?" he

gasped.

I couldn't help grinning. "Then you'd better start

praying. Because if Satobin isn't produced, you're

about ten minutes away from becoming a corpse."

Darting around to the driver's side, pulled open the

door and slid in behind the wheel. I quickly lowered

the driver's window down all the way and released thc

brake. The engine was in neutral, so I slipped the gear

lever into drive, toed the accelerator and eased

forward. ne wind had carried , away most of the

smoke from the grenade as I eased over to the right

and onto the graveled driveway that led up to the

castle. I kept the big car down to a crawl, maneuvering

it cautiously through the first two sweeping curves. The

top of Korlats head blocked a portion of the vind-

shield, but I could see well enough up ahead.

The castle was in almost total darkness, but when I

bad made it about halfway up, a light suddenly came

on above the front gates. I braked to a quick halt,

sucked in my breath and slapped my palm down hard

on the horn.

A lot of things happened at once. Lights began

showing behind windows, voices were raised. I kept

leaning on the horn until a sry)tjight, high up on one of

the turrets, stabbed my way. A second one joined in.

The beams moved inward, stopping abrupdy when they

centered on the vehicle.

The sight of Korla, bound and squirming on the

hood of bis limo, must have shocked them out of their

skulls. Tiny figures darted along the castle's upper

walls. Shouts and yells floated across the air, and more

lights kept popping on. For the moment I held the ad-

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MCK CARTER: Kitt-MASTER

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151

vantage, and I made my move. I snatched up the bun-

horn, thumbed the switch on and passed it out the

driver's window.

"Grab this," I yelled to Korla. "Better ten them to

hold their fire."

He reacted instantly. His left hand flew back and T

pressed the bullhorn into his sweating palm. A moment

later his voice, choked up with fear, boomed out.

'Oon't shoot!" he shrieked in Croat. "Don't shoot!"

The shouting along the wall broke off instantly.

Silence. r slipped the nompson out the open window,

laying the muzzle alongside Korla's bead. "Tell them

they have five minutes to bring Salobin out. Tell them if

he isn't down here by then Ifil blow your head off. And

remember, I understand your language---so no tricks."

Hs hand trembled as he put the bullborn to his

mouth. For a few moments he made strange, slobber-

ing sounds and then the words spilled out. Be repeated

the message almost word for word. They were to bring

Salobin down immediately.

I prodded the Thompson's manle against his skull

for added effect, and he really hit the panie button.

"Napred, napred2P' he screamed. Hurry—hurry.

Within seconds, the two men withdrew behind the

gate, leaving Salobin alone on the graveled roadway.

For a while the old man seemed uncertain as to which

way to go. He took a few steps forward. Stopped.

Started up again. Then came to another halt.

I reached out the window, snatched the bullhorn

from Korla's hand.

"Salobin," I called out. "I am a friend—an Ameri-

can. I am here to help you. Do you understand? I am

here to help you. Start coming down."

Apparently his English was good enough to under-

stand my message, because he suddenly broke into a

wobbly run. Twice he came close to falling. I toed the

accelerator and zoomed forward. I pulled along-

side him, I braked hard. Reaching back, I unlatched

the rear door, swung it partly open. Gasping, he

crawled in and I slammed the door shut behind him.

"Down," I yelled. "On the floor."

Reaching out the window, I rammed the bullhorn

back into Korla's hand. "One more thing," I snapped.

"Tell your men to stay right where they are. No one's

to follow. If they come after us, Korla, you die."

I waited until he delivered the message, then shifted

r eased back on the Thompson and checked my into reverse.

watch. When about three minutes had passed, I gave It was tricky backing the car down the winding

driveway, but I wanted to keep Korla facing up front.

Korla another nudge with the muzzle.

"You've got twoninutes left," I warned. "Better get As long as he was exposed, it would keep his men

from opening fire. I managed the first winding curve,

them moving. O

He let out a howl and began shrieking into the butl- straightened out, and then backed into the second, the

horn. It helped. Less than a minute later the front gate spinning rear wheels throwing up clouds of gravel I

swung open and two men hustled out supporting a kept checking therear mirror. About twenty yards re-

frail, white-haired man between them. I gaveKorla an- mained•

I called out to Satobin. "Be careful. Hold on tight."

other nudge with the Thompson.

'*Tell your men to go back inside. I want Salobin "Da,da,» he replied quickly.

I gunned the accelerator, spun through the final S-

by himself."

Korla continucd to cooperate. voice came close curve and came out on the highway. I cut hard right to

to cracking under the strain, but he repeated my in. get the front end pointing south. For a brief moment

structions exact!y.

the limo's right side was exposed to possible fire, but

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NtCK CARTER: KILLMASTER

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with Koda fully exposed they held off. slammed the

car into drive, floored the pedal and took off like a

shot.

I couldn't quite believe it yet. It bad actually

worked. In less than five minutes we'd be at the point

where r had anchored the boat. A movement came

from behind me. I glanced into the rear view mirror as

Salobin's strained face popped into view. The lid of his

left eye, the false one, drooped noticeably. I had the

right mam

"W---who are you?" he stammered in accented En-

glish.

I laughed. "Superman, the mild-mannered reporter."

He shook his head dazedly. "1—-1 do not under-

"It's all right." T said reassuringly. "I'm an Ameri-

can like I said. You're safe now, Salobin. Everything•s

going to be fine. But keep your head down."

"Day" he said obediently, and popped out of sight*

I checked the rearview mirror. No lights showed

from behind. Obviously, for the moment anyway,

Korla's hysterical plea had kept his meq in line. I let

out a sigh of relief.

There was no joy in it for Korla. His bulk shifted

under the rope, and his left hand was thrown across his

face to ward off the slicing wind. He had gone through

a hell of a lot, but r couldn't have cared lese- Mean-

while, I was prepared to keep my word and cut the

bastard loose once we reached the cove. How he'd

manage from there would damn well be his problem,

not mine.

Less thnn three minutes later I approached the

sweeping curve I had paced off after leaving the boat.

cove would be right behind it, less than a tenth of

a mile. As I roared out of the turn I began slowing

down, coming to a screeching balt alongside the bigh-

way guard rail.

A split second later lots Of things began to happen.

A pair of headlamps, dead ahead, suddenly blazed on.

r ducked instinctively. A splatter of gunfire broke out.

The windshield went first, filling the car with Eying

shards of glass. I glanced up. What was left of Korla's

skull had been scattered with the glass. Blood sloshed

thickly over the dashboard and down the wheel.

'*OUT!" 1 yelled to Salobin. "Out!"

I grabbed the Thompson and flung open the passen-

ger door. r slid out, falling to the ground as another

volley burst out. I wormed forward toward the front

right wheel, bringing up the Thompson. The head-

lamps were an easy target. I got off a quick burst and

the lights went dark instantly.

Suddenly, two shadowy figures darted toward the

limo. They were shouting to each other, and there was

no mistaking the language-—Rus.fian! I squeezed off

another burst. The lead man went down, clutching his

chest. A second later the one behind tripped over his

fallen companion. He recovered quickly, scrambling for

his fallen weapon. I tilted the rnlompson slightly and

squeezed the trigger. His hands flew to hig face and he

fell forward across the first man's crumpled body. I

didn't waste a second.

Scurrying back, I yanked the rear passengcr door

open. I reached in, grabbed Salobin•s arm and pulled

him out and down to the ground. I literally threw him

over the low guard rail and then followed suit. I hit in

a heap, my body spinning as I rolled down the slight

incline. I ended up on my back, still clutching the

Thompson. I heard footsteps. At first I couldn't see

him, but then the moon slipped out from behind a

cloud, flooding the scene with silvery light. He was at

the guard rail, and one foot already over. I fired while

still oa my back, a quick raking burst while the recoil

tore at my arms. His scream filled the night, and he

dropped like a stone.

Sounds came from my left. I roiled to my knees.

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NICK CARTER:

154

Salobin crawled my way, breathing hard. I grabbed

him under the left arm.

"Are you all right?"

He nodded shakily. "Da.'" he whispered. "All right."

We were still some distance from the boat, but I

wasn't ready to chance amopen run for it. I glanced

around and spotted a thick patch of marsh weeds up

ahead. For the moment it offered the best protective

cover. I tugged at Salobio's arm, pulling him shakily to

his knees. I nodded toward the weeds.

"We can't stay here. There are others."

He nodded again. "I understand," he whispered

back.

Taking a firm grip on his arm, I started forward.

Twice his knees came close to buckling under him, and

I tightened my grip. We were making more noise than

I liked, but it couldn't be helped. We hit the weeds and

I pulled him in after me. There were movements from

behind, but they suddenly broke Off. I yanked out the

clip that was in the Thompson and rammed in a fresh

one.

I had no way of knowing how many were out there,

but they were Russians. That much I did know. Some-

how, some way, they had gotten on to me and had

planned the ambush. But they wouldn't wait long. I

was convinced of that. It was only a matter of minutes

before theytd try again. So far I had managed to pick

off a few, but if they decided to rush me, my back

would be up the old wall.

A few more seconds slid by. Somewhere within the

dense marsh weeds a frog croaked. Another joined in.

The moon slipped behind another cloud and the night

closed in like a tightening noose.

I nudged Salobin, "We've got to move now while we

have the chance. I have a boat waiting, but we've got a

bit more to go. We must try and get to it. DO you un-

derstand?"

understand," he said gently.

THE TURNCOAT

155

I took his arm again, waited, our heads just below

the tops of the wafted marsh weeds.

"Now." I whispered.

I used the barrel of the to part the wecds

as we made our slow, cautious advance. Every so often

I stopped to listen. The wind blowing off the sea stirred

the drye weeds and they brushed against each other

noisily. Other sounds came from behind, slight crack-

ling movements, but too vague to distinguish clearly.

At the point where the marsh weeds began to thin

out, I came to another halt. The cove lay before us,

across a short span of open beach. I distinctly heard

the light slap of waves. Moments later I spotted the

boat's silhouette, a dark shadow among darker

shadows. We WOuld have to make a break for it and

take our chances. There was no other way. I listened.

The crackling sounds from behind had increased. I

gripped Salobin's arm.

"We'll have to run. Will you try?"

"I will try," he murrnured.

I sucked in my breath. "Now!"

We were off and running.

About halfway there the shots broke out from be-

hind. Sand kicked up at our heels. r slammed Satobin

to the ground, dropped to one knee and pivoted

around. They were breaking through the cover of the

weeds. There seemed to be four of them, possibly five.

The ambush must have involved two cars, perhaps as

many as three. Their fire fell short, kicking up spurts

Of sand. I squeezed Off sweeping burst. Two

men fell.

I dipped inside my pocket and came up with one of

the smoke grenades. I pinned it and made my toss. It

landed about a half-dozen yards in front of them. It

flashed blue-white, detonated thuddingly. They let out

a few surprised shouts, darting back as the thick smoke

billowed into the air. Just to be suret I raked the cloud

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NICK CARTER: KJLLMASTER

THE TURNCOAT

157

with another burst, then grabbed Salobin under •the

armpit and hauled him to his feet.

I sprinted for the boat, dragging Salobin as best I

could. The distance closed, but when we were almost

there, a figure popped up in the prow. Orange flame

tongued the air. I dropped Salobin and fired the

nompson from my hip. His hands jerked straight op

over his head. He tottered, fell forward, hit the railing

and theo bung there, his arms dangling stiffy over the

side.

I carried Salobin the remaining distance, propped

him against the boat and told him to hang 00. Grab-

bing the dead man by the arm, I yanked hard. He

toppled over the rail, falling heavily to the beach. Dart-

ing back to Salobin, I tossed him on deck, then ran

around to the stern. Pulling up the anchor, I heaved it

aboard and scrambled to the deck.

While I raced for the wheel, I fumbled in my pocket

for the ignition keys. I glanced back. Two of the Rus-

sians bad managed to find their way through the billow-

ing smoke screen. I got off another burst and drove

them back. Seconds later I hit the ignition and the twin

engines came alive.

Reaching inside my jacket pocket I came up witb

the last smoke grenade. I yanked the pin and tossed it

over the stern and onto the beach. It detonated on im-

pact. I fed the engines and a light scraping sound

followed as the hull broke loose from the sandy bot-

tom. With a leap, the boat surged forward.

Once I cleared the cove, I headed straight out for

sea. When we were beyond the cove I looked back

over my shoulder. The spreading smoke screen had

blanketed the beach, cutting off any chance of our

being seen. Sporadic gunfire broke out somewhere be-

hind us, but they didn't even come close. The shots

grew fainter and then stopped altogether. Gradually, I

felt the muscles along my shoulders relax.

"How are you?" I called out to Salobin.

He lay huddled up toward the prow, a small pathetic

bundle. "My leg," he murmured. "It pains

With all the running and falling, be'd have to be

bruised. "I'll have a look at it," I reassured him. "But

we'd better get a little further out to sea first."

I gunned the engines and the prow rose gracefully

out of the water, throwing up twin curtains of shooting

spray. The only thing that really bothered me now was

how the Russians had gotten on to me. Biro came to

mind immediately. He was the only one to have bad

precise knowledge as to my exact whereabouts. It was

a depressing thought. I shook my head wearily. An old

war buddy of Hawk. and a one time OSS man. besides.

It seemed incredible, but it would have to be dealt with

at the proper time. Meanwhile, it was first things first.

I eased back on the throttle all the way. When we

came to a gentle, bobbing halt I switched off the en-

gines and went forward to take a at Salobin's leg.

The problem was with his lcft ankle. He had either

wrenched it whüe running, or when I had thrown him

to the ground. From what I could see and feel, it was

badly swollen, but it didn't seem like a break. Mean-

while, there was little I could do for him at the mo-

mcnt, other than assure him that help was on the way.

As carefully as I could, I explained that a couple Of

days earlier r had dispatched a coded message to the

American headquarters of an Italian based NATO

command station, and that r received prompt confirma-

tion that a rescue vessel would be dispatched at the

proper time.

'They should heading our way right about now,g

I continued. "My message included the location we'd

be in, and the approximate time to expect us." I gave

his arm a gentle squeeze. "You've been through the

worst of it. It won't be long now."

The lid of his false, left eye tugged slightly es he

smiled. "Yoo are a very brave man to do all of this for

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CARTER: KTLLMASTER

TVRNCOAT

159

a stranger." He put his hand over mine. "I trust you,

and I thank you

I gave his arm another pat and flipped open the

storage compartment where I had put the Very pistol

and the flares. I got tbem out, placed the pistol on the

deck alongside me and tore open the top flap of the

flare carton. I took out one of the shells and was about

to load the pistol when the cabin door behind me

clicked sharply. I spun around as the shadowy figure

emerged.

Recognition came instantly.

Her slender band gripping the snub-nosed automatic

didn't waver.

"Turn around, Nick," she said curtly. "Put your

hands behind your head."

The shock waves were still hitting me as I turned

slowly, doing exactly as she said. A moment latcr the

muzzle of her automatic touched the base of my spine.

Her left hand came around, dipped inside my jacket.

She neatly removed Wilhelmina from my shouldet

holster and stepped back.

"You can turn now."

Her eyes met mine unblinkingly. She stood with het

bock to the boat's rail, her weapon pointed directly at

my chest.

I was still dazed out of my head. "It was you," I fi-

nally whispered. "You led them to me. You're one Of

She nodded. "i'm a member of the KGB---satellite

division."

I felt my jaw go slack. "so you knew all about me.

Who I was all along."

She shook her head. "Not really. It was a matter of

unusual coincidences, things coming together at the

right time, Ely working for Biro was purely routine. I

was advised by my superiors to apply for the position.

Planting agents inside an American organization is typ-

ical procedure for our division. Frequently, it provides

useful information, but I was just another plant until

you unexpectedly turned up."

She paused, and for a moment her eyes softened.

g That first day when we met and had dinner with Biro

and then you took me back to my cottage. The phone

was ringing when we got there. Remember? When I

answered, it was one of my superiors. They already

knew all about you. I was given my special orders, and

I followed them as best I could."

I forced myself to go on talking. r was fighting for

time. g You did exceptionally well üacing me to the

boat How?'i

She shrugged. For a moment I thought she was go-

ing to let the question slide by.

"It took a while, t' she continued. "Remember the

last time you came to my cottage, when you spent the

night? In the morning I brought you your shaving

equipment from your car, but I did something else, too.

I planted a magnetic bug under the fender of your Fiat,

a small but efficient transmitter. signals allowed us

to follow your movements at a safe distance. We were

able to trail you to Cavtat where you picked up your

boat, but when we finally arrived at the marina, and Io-

cated the parked Fiat, you were already on your way."

"And so you got the old man to talk."

She gave another shrug. "He proved difficult at first,

but there are ways of persuading people to do what ig

best for them. 0

"And eventually you located the cove with the

boat

"Eventually," she echoed flatty. "But the important

thing at that moment was that we were convinced that

you had come up with some plan of freeing Salobin

from his kidnappers, although we didn't know who

they were or where they held him. Of course, not long

after you bad arrived in Beirut, the KGB knew of your

presence and your probable mission. At first it was

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

THE TURNCOAT

161

planned to kill you, and, as you well know, attempts

were made. But at one point the plan was changed, It

was agreed that if you succeeded in freeing Salobin,

you would be doing our work for us. So it made simple

sense to wait; give you a free hand to effect your plan."

"And so the ambush was planned."

*'Exactly," she replied. "But the good luck turned

bad. Locating the cove with your boat proved difficult.

There must be at least fifty coves between here and

Cavtat, and we kept missing yours. We searched for

hours, and when night came it made it even more dilli-

cult. Finally we found it, but only minutes before you

turned up. When the shooting broke out and you were

able to get away, another man and myself ran back to

the boat. We intended to sabotage it, but suddenly you

were there on the beach with Salobin. When you shot

the man who was with me, there no longer

time • i"

u.And so you hid in the cabin," I said slowly. "You

waited. And now, Maya. What happens now? Are you

telling me to hand Salobin over to you?"

"It is much too late for that," she snapped back. "I

regret what has to be done. I wish we had met differ-

entiy. But you know the rules that govern our lives-—

our mission always comes first."

She nodded toward Salobin who lay huddled in the

prow. "The vital scientific knowledge this man

possesses must never fall into the hands of the United

States or any other power. We were given only one

order; kill Salobin on sight."

Wheeling suddenly, she fired point blank at the old

man. I heard his cry of pain and lunged. Spinning

toward me, she fired again. Pain stabbed my left arm. I

reeled back, and she turned again toward Salobin. I

flicked my right arm and Hugo snapped into my wait-

ing palm. I made an underhanded throw. It thudded in

below her left breast. Her violet eyes widened with

pain and surprise. The smoking gun slid from her

hand. Tottering, she managed to tug the knife free. As

it clattered to the deck, a long, low wave swept against

the boat's bull, tilting it at a sharp angle. She was al-

ready off balance when I raced for her. She fell back,

struck the rail and went over. I caught a fleeting

glimpse of her body borne forward along the crest of

the sweeping wave. She lay on her back, only her pale,

oval face glowing faintly against the inky, black water.

A moment later she slid into the trough and the wave

foamed over her.

"Maya." I whispered.

Yellow moonlight dappled the spot where I had seen

her last. She was gone

What followed was purely a seriee of mechanical

movements. Somehow, I managed to get to Salobin's

side. He was unconscious. I checked his pulse and the

faint beat was irregular. Blood drenched his chest I

started up the engines, only faintly aware of the pain in

my left arm. My major concern at the moment was

Salobin. Would he die? nere was nothing more

could do but head west, out to sea.

Less than five minutes later I heard the throb of en-

gines moving my way. switched off the diesels. The

throbbing beat grew louder. Lights suddenly blinked

ahead, Off the starboard prow. I went forward, found

the Very pistol where I had laid it and rammed a shell

into the wide muzzle. I pointed it straight up and

squeezed the trigger. It slashed into the dark sky,

trailing sparks like a rocket. About 200 feet up it deto-

nated, turning the night momentarily into day.

It wasn't much later when the power launch loomed

into view. Moments later the launch and its four-man

crew had drawn alongside, A youthful, life-jacketed

officer sprang aboard.

He threw a crisp salute. "Lt. Walters, NATO divi-

Siom United States Navy. May I be of assistance, sir?"

I pointed to Salobin. "Get him abroad. He needs

medical attention desperately."

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CARTER: KILT-MASTER

When they had transferred Salobin to the launch,

collected my few pieces of gear. I found Wilhelmina

where Maya had dropped it, and Hugo a few feet

away. I dropped my hankerchief over the blood stained

blade and carefully slipped it inside my pocket.

A moment later Lt. Walters joined me. Suddenly he

spotted my injured arm. "It looks as if you'll be

needing some care too, sir." He paused and frowned.

elf you'll excuse me," he said carefully, "are there just

the two of you. J mean, only you and the old man?"

I knew what was bothering him, but I wasn't going

to clear it up. gnat's right, Lieutenant," I said quietly.

"Just the two of us."

His frown deepened. "But if you and the Old man

bave been shot, it would mean—" He broke off awk-

wardly. "Are you ready to leave, sir?"

"Ready," I replied.

We boarded the launch and were on our way.

CHAPTER 15

Commander Horace Fuller, the cruiser's captain, was

enormously helpful and cooperative. Within moments

after we came aboard, he had Salobin rushed to the

ship's sick bay, and ordered a medical corpsman to

look after my arm. With the flesh wound cauterized

and neatly bandaaged, I sat in Fuller's cabin while he

poured a generous amount of scotch into a tall glass.

"My orders," he explained, "were to check these

waters for three consecutive nights, starting with

tonight, and to pick up an American and anyone else

who may happen to be with him. I was also told not to

ask questions, make no official record of your presence

in the log and to offer all possible assistance you might

request."

He smiled as r tossed Off the drink, but I refused his

offer for a refill. I was worried about Salobin, right

down to my toes. When I expressed my feelings, Fuller

sympathized.

UHc's not in good shape," Fuller readily admitted,

163

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MCK CARTER: Ktt.LMASTER

THE TURNCOAT

165

"and his age is working against him. But we're heading

for the Italian mainland at top speed, and there's a first

class hospital with NATO facilities in Bari. Meanwhile,

he's getting the best medical care under the circum-

stances. Lt. Baker is young. but a first rate doctor. I've

told him that you wanted to sce your companion as

soon as possible, and he wag to report immediately if

there was any change in his condition, up or down."

A split second later, as though on cue, the intercom

buzzed. Fuller slipped the receiver Off its hc»k and

clampcd it to his ear. I saw the muscles in his jaw

tense. He dropped the receiver back on the hook.

"Not good," he said. "He's slipping. I suppose you

want to see him."

I was standing when Fuller got back on the inter-

com. "Send someone to the captain's cabin immedi-

ately," he snapped. "Make this fast."

Less than a minute later we heard quick footsteps,

followed by the knock on the door. Fuller opened,

addressed the tall, youthful sailor. "Take this man to

the sick bay, and hurry."

J stepped into the corridor.

"Good luck," Fuller called after me.

There was a companionway at the end Of the

corridor and we took it downe From here we followed

a narrow passageway and turned left. At the third

to our right. the young sailor stopped. He opened the

dc»r and stepped aside. I entered, and a young lieu-

tenant came toward me.

'*Lt. Baker?"

"Yes," he replied. "He's in here."

He led the way into a small, private cabin off the

main sick bay. Salobin's face was whiter than the

pillow case- His right eye was slitted almost shut, and

the lid of the false left eye was totally closed. A stand

to the left of the bed piped an intravenous flow of

blood plasma into his left arm.

"Has be recovered consciousness at any time?" I

asked.

Baker shook his head. "And he may not. ne bullet

severed his spinal cord on the way out. He's totally

paralyzed from the hips down. I'd go ahead with sur-

gery, try to pinch off some of the severed blood vessels,

but he'd go right into cardiae arrest."

"How's the blood pressure?"

"Awful. And the cardiogram's even worse. Scarcely

any peaks. Almost a straight line."

He glanced at the plastic plasma container. uThat'g

the second pint. But there's no meaningful response.

He's losing more through internal bleeding than what's

coming in."

He leaned across the raised hospital bed and put his

stethescope to Salobin's chest. When he straightened

up he gave his head another shake. "All I'm getting is

a whisper. It can happen' at any time."

€41 want to stay with him/' I said. "Just in case he

does come around."

Baker nodded. "I'll be outside. Call it you want

me."

He left the room, closing the dCX)f silently behind

I sat down in the chair alongside the bed, stared at

Salobin's drawn face, at the withered cheeks drained of

all color. I experienced a deep sense of helplessness. So

much had happened and so many had died. The last

was Maya, and soon it would be Salobin's turn.

Tbe mission, of course, had failed, and though this

wag something that could always happen, I blamed my-

self completely. And Maya, whom I had trusted

completely had been my undoing. In one blinding flash

her bullet had turned what could have been success

into total failure.

But I felt no anger toward her. She had done ber

job, much the same as I would, and she had done it

well. Her bravery and courage were implicit. I recalled

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CARTER: XILLMASTER

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167

the afternoon we had driven to the mountain inn. when

the hit man in the Porsche had come up from behind.

They had set her up to get at me, and if we had died

together the KGB wouldn't have cared less. She must

have realized this later, but good soldier that she was,

she remained loyal to her beliefs and training, despite

the fact that her own life had hung in the balance.

But all at once a movement from the bed snapped

me back to the present, Salobin*s right hand had

moved slightly. A moment later his right eye fluttered

open. I leaned over him. Recognition showed. His lips

moved. He was trying to say something. I leaned

closer. All I could hear were choked, inaudible

whispers.

*'Louder," r pleaded* "Louder!"

Then I heard it, hut very faintly.

. I," as

though he were trying to make some kind of statement.

I leaned closer still. i' T, what?" I asked. "What?"

His lips twitched and blood-fccked saliva oozed

from the corners of his mouth. He gagged, and choked,

but he was beyond speech. He struggled. raising his

right hand shakily and began tracing a trembling finger

in the air, as though he were trying to draw something.

I reached inside my pocket, snatched out my pad

and ballpoint pen. I quickly raised the bed to an up-

right position and managed to get the pen between his

trembling fingers. Flipping open the pad, I slid it un-

demeath and placed my hand around his to keep the

pen from slipping between his fingers. His hand moved

awkwardly within mine as he guided the pen. Painfully,

slowly, he traced out a scrawled, lopsided circle. He

paused, and then, with a final effort. he placed a dot in

the center.

"lie pen slid free and his band stiffened in mine. He

coughed. Blood welled from his mouth and a harsh rat-

fling rose from his throat. I slid my arm around his

frail shoulders. Like a light being dimmed, his good

right eye clouded over. Gently, I eased his head against

the pillow and quickly lowered the bed.

When I opened the door, LL Baker joined me in-

stantly. He moved quickly to Salobin's side, pressed his

stethescope to Salobin's chest. In a moment he

straightened.

"He's dead," he sighed. "I'll notify Captain Fuller."

He paused at the door. "Will you be coming, sir?"

'*In a minute."

When he left I stared at the sheet of paper with the

crude circle Salobin bad scrawled. I groped at its

meaning. He had desperately tried to get some message

through. But what? A circle and a dot in its center. My

thoughts whirled. It made no sense. But all at once I

was remembering. When Salobin had said twice, he

may not have been referring to himsclf. Suddenly it

struck me. Could the circle and dot he had drawn

mean eye?

Gently, I raised the lid of his false, left eye. r

pressed gently against it and the plastic eyeball

popped free. Carefully, I plucked it out I examined it

under the bedside lamp. A thin, inscribed slit circled

the circumference. I ran the edge of my fingernail

along the slit and it sprang open on a tiny, inner hinge.

I gasped. Nested inside the hollow sphere was a tightly

rolled celluloid coil. I tapped it into my palm, unrolled

it. It was approximately an eight-inch strip of micro-

Elm, no more than an eighth-of-an-inch in '*idth.

I pocketed it quickly. Snapping the plastic eye shut,

I carefully pressed it back into the gaping eye socket.

Gently, I drew the lid over it and did the same for the

right eye. At the door, I looked back. Death had re-

stored a measure of tranquillity to the pallid face.

I stepped out, closed the door gently behind me.

CD 88 a P P

CHAPTER 16

I sat in Hawk's office. my written report lying on his

cluttered desk. I had flown out of Rome the day before

and wrote most of the report while over *the Atlantic

dropping it off along with the strip of microfilm late the

previous night. I knew the film bad been taken away

for immediate analysis, and I was anxious to hear the

verdict. Hawk was fully aware of this, but he was tak-

ing his own sweet time in getting around to it*

Leaning back in his creaky, swivil chair, he lit up an

inch of dead cigar. He sucked in, then blew out a reek-

ing cloud of smoke. He picked up my report, let it

drop and shook bis head ruefully.

N3," be said, "there are times you can

make a grown man cry."

His back was up about something, and I decided to

bring things to a head.

g €1s it the microfilm, sir? Is it all that bad?"

"Bad!" be shot back. W' Who said anything about it

168

being bad! Actually, it's the greatest, single piece of in-

telligence to come our way for years. nat strip of film

contains detailed photographs of the circuitry used in

the Soviet's top-secret missiles. And that includes their

Scrag as well as their multiple warheads. Do you real-

ize what this means?"

Before I could open my mouth, he raced on.

"It means we'll have the Russians over the barrel

during the next round of SALT talks. For the past few

years our people in State have had to second guess the

Russians on what they had or didn't have in their ar-

send But now we know. And there's only one way the

Russians can get around this, and that's to scrap some

of their most important and start over again.

Putting it another way, it means we can now bargain

with them from a position of strength which was some-

thing we simply couldn't do before."

I had an uncontrollable urge to grin, but I fought

the impulse down.

"In that case, sir," I asked. "What is disturbing

He slapped his hand down on my report. "Illis, N3!

Getting your hands on that strip of film after Salobin

died was absolutely sheer brillance on your part, but it

just as easily could have gone the other way. If that

girl's bullet had killed Salobin outright, the mission

would have been torpedoed right then and there. Ev-

erything would have gone down the drain."

He was right, of course, and I knew it all too well.

"AXE wouldn't be what it is today without you,

Nick," he said almost gently. "You know that."

I thanked him, got up.

"Nick." he caid when I got to the door.

"Yes?"

'This Maya." He paused. "l uish she would have

been on our side."

I nodded. "So do I, sir."

CD 88 a P P

Page 170 (172/180)

170

NICK CARTER: KILT-MASTER

It was almost dusk when I left the building. I was

atx)ut to hop a cab to my hotel, but decided to walk.

As I headed south the sky behind the Washington

Monument tcx)k on a soft, violet hue. It reminded me

of Maya's eyes. It reminded me of a lot of other things

as well.

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SAVING THE

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(NF) {111.1B)

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