Nick Carter

Peking & The Tulip Affair

Peking

Dedicated to The Men of the Secret Services of the United Slates of America

Chapter 1

Hawk stood at the window of his office and watched the morning sky as a bolt of lightning tore through it in zigzag fashion. Then the sky opened up and the heavy rain gushed down, drenching the streets of Washington, D.C. There were more bolts of lightning, swording through the heavens, ripping the sky with a vengeance. The claps of thunder were heavy and deafening.

The sky was alive and crackling, opening up at uneven intervals with the thrusts of the lightning bolts. It looked as though the world had gone mad.

If the end of the world ever came, Hawk thought, it would look something like this.

Hawk stood there, fascinated by the scene. He lost all track of time. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The sky was normal and the sun was trying to come out.

The chief of AXE looked at his watch. Almost half an hour had passed. And Nick Carter was due.

It was ironic, Hawk thought, the way something always came up when Carter was getting too involved with a woman. Now it was a senators daughter. He had seen her picture in the papers too many times to suit him. But she was truly beautiful. Beautiful and spoiled.

In the street below, Nick was getting out of his car. Hawk turned away from the window, walked behind his desk, sat down and waited for his man...

She was young. Nick Carter like that. She was Chinese. Nick liked that, too. She was naked from head to foot. Nick liked that even better.

He was looking at a snapshot.

“Okay,” Nick said. “She looks good.” With a forefinger he passed the snapshot back across the desk to the man who had tossed it to him a second after he had sat down. “I believe you have a purpose for showing me a naked Chinese girl. Or rather, damn it, a snapshot of her. You’re usually not that indulgent unless you have a good reason.”

Hawk turned the snapshot over. Not that the sight of a nude girl offended him. But he didn’t want to be distracted by anything. His cold eyes surveyed Killmaster, his top agent. “Are you packed?”

Nick grinned without humor. “I’m always packed.”

“Let’s talk about the girl. Her name is Sim Chan and she’s twenty-five. Born in the Kirin Province in China. Smart, shrewd, quick — you name it. An opportunist. Took up with a top Commie when she was twenty and dumped him later for a general, who was purged by the Red Guard about a year ago. Now she’s in Peking, the mistress of Walther Kerner.” Hawk stopped and waited for the reaction.

Nick’s heart almost skipped a beat. He stiffened slightly. “Kerner. One of Bormann’s men.”

“Right,” Hawk said gruffly. “And where you’ll find Kerner you’ll find Martin Bormann.” He watched Nick light a gold-tipped cigarette. “We also know what Bormann and his crew are working on.” This brought an even sharper reaction from Nick. Hawk’s leathery face twisted into a grin. “Kerner is a scientist, specializes in drugs. That’s a well-known fact. Sim Chan, his mistress, is also a scientist, also specializes in drugs. But that isn’t a well-known fact. We had to do a lot of digging to find that one out.”

Nick made a shrewd guess. “Sim Chan s job is to spy on Kerner. The Chinese Reds don’t trust anyone, even their so-called allies. And the best way for Sim Chan to get close to Kerner is to become his mistress.”

“It has to be,” Hawk said.

“What else can you tell me?”

“Kerner is working on a drug. It’s a synthesis of a list of substances capable of producing a model psychosis.”

“Simplify, please,” Nick pleaded.

“A synthetic drug,” Hawk said. “Kerner is calling it Agent Z. The drug is related to belladonna, a plant extract. Depending on dosage, it causes giddiness to hallucinations. It’s a mind-altering drug, and once it’s perfected it can do anything, even to changing the thinking and personality of a man. Our own scientists have been trying to perfect such a drug. We’ve used marijuana and mescaline but had to rule both drugs out because they required very heavy dosages. We’re now experimenting with lysergic acid siethylamide, better known as LSD, but haven’t received the results hoped for.”

Nick looked at the glowing end of his cigarette before killing it in the ashtray. “Agent Z would make a powerful weapon for any country,” he said tonelessly.

“Your job is two-fold — stop the experiments, and get Bormann.”

Nick had crossed swords with Martin Bormann before and each time the Nazi had eluded him. Nick prayed silently that this would be their last encounter and Bormann would end up dead at his feet.

Hawk asked Nick if he had any questions.

Nick nodded his head. “How did you find all this out?”

The information had come from an AXE agent stationed inside the Imperial Palace in Peking. He had reached his contact before he had been slain. Hawk was sure the contact’s cover was still good — but one could never be sure about anything.

“You’ll go in as Harry Toombs of the Toronto Wire Service,” Hawk added. “A Canadian. You’ll also leave your toys behind. Newspapermen don’t carry guns and knives.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. You’ll stop off at Hong Kong first and see a man named Hans Danzig at the Peninsula Hotel. He’ll give you all the dope you’ll need on Agent Z.”

“Danzig?”

“A scientist.”

“Never heard of him,” Nick said.

“Very few people have,” Hawk said. “That’s why he’s so valuable to me.”

Nick’s eyebrows knitted in surprise. “Keeping secrets from me?”

“You’re always out in the field,” Hawk said softly, “so how can you possibly know everything? Of course, if you’d like a desk job—”

Nick uncoiled slowly, like a cobra coming out of its basket home, getting to his feet. “What does Danzig look like?”

Hawk described the man.

When Nick turned to leave, Hawk said: “One more thing. We’ve just perfected a drug named Store. It puts a man to sleep for a week without a trace of a heartbeat. There’s an antidote in case you want your... uh... victim to recover quickly. It may come in handy. Talk to the boys in Editing before you leave.”

Nick reached over to flip the snapshot and once again gazed at the naked Sim Chan. “Just wanted to refresh my memory.”

“Get the hell out of here,” Hawk growled.

Selina Stanton was a vivacious redhead with a stunning figure who had been a constant source of embarrassment to her senator father. Her wild escapades had gained her much notoriety in the newspapers, but lately she had toned down because her latest lover seemed averse to publicity.

For the first time in her twenty-four years Selina Stanton was in love. Selina had never known anyone like Nick Carter. Nick was handsome and intelligent, and she had fallen head over heels in love with the bronzed giant.

He was a close-mouthed bastard; he never talked about himself or asked about her former boy friends. She didn’t know too much about him except that he worked for the government. The fact that he shied away from publicity had made her curb her impulsive, wild nature.

In nile-green lounging pajamas, she walked to the portable bar and built herself a drink.

She had always got what she wanted — but now? She didn’t have Nick. She couldn’t fool herself. She knew she loved Nick — but he didn’t love her. Not really. She knew she meant more to him than just a roll in the hay, but the deep affection he felt for her was definitely not love.

Selina knew that someday there would be a break. It wouldn’t be a clean break, either. It would be jagged and rough because she was too emotional to take something like that lightly.

She gulped down part of her drink and her thoughts vanished as the doorbell sounded. She put down her glass and walked slowly to the door, not wanting him to know how eager she was. Selina opened the door and he walked in.

She closed the door and leaned her back against it. “You’re late.”

He made for the bar and poured rum into a tall, frosted glass. “I’m sorry, Selina.” He turned to face her, making his voice contrite. “It couldn’t be helped.” He offered no other explanation. He watched her come away from the door and saunter toward him. He saw the way her high breasts swayed under the pajama coat and knew she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She was close to him now, and her eyes glowed with unconcealed passion. She forgot everything except that he was here, and she wanted him. There was an ache in her loins, and it would go away only after a session with the man in front of her.

She took his glass and put it aside. She moved even closer and her arms snaked around his neck. They kissed, and her eager body was tight against his.

He breathed in the perfume of her warm, pliant body and wanted her very badly. It would be their last fling till he got back — if he got back. Nick knew how she felt about him, which was why he wanted to break away from her, but there was something magnetic about Selina. He knew the affair couldn’t last. He would have to find a way to stop their relationship without hurting her. It was going to be difficult. With a wry grin, which she couldn’t see, he realized that there was one sure way to end the affair — to get himself killed.

She finally pulled away and took his hand and led the way into the bedroom. She took off her pajamas and climbed into bed and waited impatiently for him.

Nick piled his clothes on a chair and joined her. They kissed and his hands roamed freely over her eager body. He stroked her high, firm breasts and ran one hand down the length of her, over her decorative navel, onto her creamy thighs.

“My breasts,” she moaned. “Nick. My breasts.”

He bent his head and kissed her.

Her luscious thighs parted and she pulled him down to her, welcoming his hard-muscled body.

The consummation was complete and very satisfying. There was a fine dusting of sweat beads on Selina’s forehead when they finished. Gently, Nick rolled away from her.

They lay on their sides, facing each other, Nick’s hand on her hip.

Nick knew she was a passionate creature. He wondered if she would practice celibacy while he was gone. Probably not. Even though she loved him, or thought she did, she was realistic and hot-blooded.

She looked good, lying there, her breasts lightly touching his chest. It would be nice if she just stayed that way, naked, waiting for him while he completed his mission. What a joke to inject her with Store, the suspended-animation drug Editing had given him. It would last exactly seven days. But there was no guarantee he’d be back in seven days. There was no guarantee that he would ever be back.

He didn’t want to think of the mission. Time enough for that.

“Nick,” she murmured.

“What?”

“You love me?”

“As much as I’ll ever love any woman.”

“You’re honest,” she said huskily. “I wish you weren’t so honest.”

He didn’t want to kid her along and told her so. Soon he would be telling her goodbye. But not just yet. There was still time...

He drew her tight against him and she felt his evident excitement.

“So soon?” She was surprised but delighted.

He kissed her hungrily, and soon he was lost in her arms.

Chapter 2

The huge blue-and-silver bird landed at Kai Tak Airport and Nick checked his suitcase in a locker. He fingered the pen in his breast pocket. It was no ordinary pen. In it was Store, the drug that brought on a state of suspended animation, and also the antidote. It was the only weapon Nick had.

A taxi took him to the Peninsula Hotel. Yes, Mr. Danzig was in, the desk clerk said with a cheerful smile. An elevator took Nick up to Hans Danzig’s floor.

Hans Danzig was a baldish man of fifty with a horseshoe of white hair. He had on a linen suit which seemed too snug for his stocky body. He invited Nick to sit and asked him if he wanted a drink.

“Nothing for me.”

“Just to be sociable.” Danzig picked up the phone and asked for room service. He looked at Nick and lifted his eyebrows.

“You talked me into it. I’ll have a B and B.”

Danzig spoke into the mouthpiece and then hung up. He sat down on a sofa and contemplated Nick with mild, pleasant eyes. “I don’t envy you,” he remarked.

“What does that mean?” Nick said dryly.

“I can guess your mission.”

“Very interesting.” Nick leaned back and stretched his legs. “I was ordered to see you. That’s all I know.”

“And I was ordered to brief you — about Agent Z.” Danzig stopped as if waiting for a reaction. There wasn’t any. “Exactly what did Hawk tell you about Agent Z?”

“You know, Mr. Danzig, I’m a funny cuss. I hate to talk. All I like to do is listen.”

“You mean you’re suspicious of me? How amusing.” But Hans Danzig didn’t look amused. He looked annoyed.

“I’m not suspicious of anyone,” Nick said calmly. “It’s just that I wasn’t told to mention to you any conversations I might have had with anyone. Discretion, Mr. Danzig. You know how it is.”

Before Danzig could reply, the boy arrived with the Benedictine and brandy. He tipped the boy and handed a glass to Nick and kept one for himself.

Nick sipped his drink and then asked Danzig exactly who he was.

“Just someone passing through the Orient. A scientist.” Danzig tasted his drink. “I can be as closemouthed as you. But we won’t get anywhere that way. Well, never mind. You needn’t tell me anything. It isn’t really necessary.”

“Just what is Agent Z?” Nick asked.

“A combination of synthetic drugs that can change a man’s whole personality. Can even change his thinking.”

“I believe Hawk did mention that,” Nick said, loosening up.

“That’s a lot to admit to,” Danzig mocked the AXE agent “You may get a bad report card if you say any more.”

“This may be a joke to you, sir, but it isn’t to me. You must see the position I’m in. If Hawk had introduced us, or if we had met before, I wouldn’t be so cautious. But as it is...”

“I understand.” Danzig nodded sympathetically. “I don’t envy you, my friend. It’s a hard business. What did Kipling call it? The great game, I believe. But it isn’t a game, really. Not in the true sense, is it? High stakes, yes. We play for high stakes.” He sighed.

Nick wanted to have lunch before he caught his plane. He pointedly looked at his watch.

“All right, my friend, I’ll get to the point.” Danzig put his glass aside. “Agent Z has a great potential. Imagine, if you will, enemy agents infiltrating a cabinet or a parliament of a government by using Agent Z on the members of the cabinet or parliament. They take over the minds of these officials and make them do what they want. Soon they are in control of the country.”

“It’s rather frightening,” Nick commented. “But the agents would have to get close to these officials.”

“You think it can’t be done?” Danzig grinned without humor. “Remember how fast Philby was rising before he was found out? A few more years and he might have been head of British Intelligence. When the CIA found out he was closely associated with Burgess and Maclean they refused to have anything more to do with him. What if Philby, or someone like him, had had Agent Z and was under orders to use it?”

Nick saw Danzig’s point. In 1949 Philby was the SIS representative in Washington, working in liaison with the FBI and the CIA. SIS was the British Secret Intelligence Service or MI-6. Philby had come in contact with many top officials. With Agent Z in his possession, who knows what damage he could have done.

Nick knew the whole thing sounded fantastic but in his years with AXE he had been involved in many fantastic situations.

Danzig broke into his thoughts. “During the recent elections in Germany there was a surprising number of votes for the neo-Nazis. Martin Bormann may think it’s time to take over Germany, with himself as the new Fuehrer. He wouldn’t need much of an army if his agents managed to inject the top-ranking German officials with Agent Z. He could even go after the smaller countries in Europe or South America. It’s no secret to the CIA and AXE that the Nazis who settled in countries like Argentina are itching to spread their venom through South America. They’re getting old, and this may be their last chance.”

There was a lot of respect and admiration in Nick’s eyes as he looked at Hans Danzig, as if seeing the balding man for the first time. “You’re not just an ordinary scientist.”

“No scientist is ordinary,” the man said without rancor.

“You said Agent Z is injected. Is that the only way it can be used? You can’t just slip a few drops into someone’s drink?”

“Perhaps sometime in the future that would be possible,” Danzig said. “But not now. One day you will put a man under a sunlamp that will scramble his brain cells, and he’ll get off the table a different man, an android, ready to do your bidding. But for now, we have Agent Z, a drug that has to be injected into the veins to be effective.”

“How close are they to perfecting Agent Z?”

“Very close. Walther Kerner, Bormann’s man, is an unusually brilliant scientist. We didn’t even bother trying to get him over to our side, knowing how devoted he was to Hitler. His loyalty has switched to Bormann.” Danzig reached for his neglected drink and finished it. “That’s an unusual pen you have there, Mr. Carter.”

“Nothing can surprise me at this stage of the game,” Nick sighed. “You probably know more about the pen than I do.”

“Score is one of my little inventions. I hope you know how to use it.”

“It was explained to me.” Nick lit a cigarette. “One click injects the drug; two clicks the antidote. It has to be done fast. Always go for the throat.”

Danzig got to his feet. “I wish I could tell you exactly where the laboratory is. I can’t. But it must be near Peking. It’s up to you to find it, destroy it. But you know all that I wish you well, Mr. Carter. Till we meet again.”

Nick stood up and they shook hands.

Chapter 3

Nick didn’t bother crossing the harbor to Hong Kong. There were many good restaurants on Nathan Road in Kowloon. Kowloon, which was called The City of Nine Dragons, had as many interesting tourist attractions as Hong Kong Island. There was the Yaumati Typhoon Shelter where the boat people lived and the Lauchikok Amusement Park. But Nick didn’t have the time. He had his lunch and then went out to hail a cab.

He lit a Canadian cigarette and settled back.

The cab went past the many department stores on Nathan Road. He looked out the window to watch the pretty girls sauntering by in their cheongsams, showing part of their thighs. He liked to look at pretty girls. He hoped he would never reach the stage where a pretty face or figure didn’t interest him.

The cab reached its destination.

The plane left Kai Tak Airport and headed for the mainland. Nick saw the naval and merchant ships in the harbor; the family sampans in the bays and coves. The water was a soft blue.

He liked Hong Kong. He hoped he would be back soon for a much longer stay. He thought about Selina for a while and then pushed her out of his mind. There were other things to think about.

He was racing against time. There was an awful urgency about the whole thing. The interview with Hans Danzig convinced him of that.

Agent Z. A mind-altering drug. A subtle weapon. It didn’t explode and make noise and bring death and destruction like a stick of dynamite or an atom bomb. But it was more dangerous than anything yet thought of. The idea of taking over a man’s mind, making him into a robot, was almost unthinkable. Almost inhuman. Hell, it was inhuman. A devil like Martin Bormann wouldn’t think twice about using such a weapon.

Bormann would do anything to bring about the resurgence of Nazi Germany.

Martin Bormann. Or Judas. God knew how many names Bormann had taken for himself since he had disappeared from Germany after Hitler’s flaming death. Nick had felt respect and admiration for some of his enemies. But never for Bormann. He only felt a red-hot hatred for the man without hands. No hands. Just claws. Stainless-steel claws. And a face that was no face. Just a thousand scars.

Nick hadn’t gotten to the point where he enjoyed killing. He knew others who had. But there would be no qualms about ending Bormann’s life. The man had lived too long. Nick wouldn’t be killing a man anyway, but a thing, a monster, a menace. He wanted to kill Bormann. He had to. He only hoped he wouldn’t enjoy it — really enjoy it. God, he hoped he would never come to feel a sense of joy in taking a man’s life. Even that of a monster like Bormann. He would feel nothing, absolutely nothing, when ending Bormann’s black life. That was the way he wanted it. To kill the devil cleanly, swiftly, without remorse.

He had never looked forward to killing anyone. It was different now. It was an almost insane desire to rid the world of Bormann.

When he killed it was because he had to. No other way out. He never thought twice about it. It was to save either himself or his mission. He knew that to hesitate, even for a second, could abort a mission. And he would be dead.

Killmaster tried to push everything out of his mind but he couldn’t. He was on edge, and that was no good.

He felt naked without Wilhelmina and Hugo. He was used to having them around. All he had was the drug in the pen he carried in his breast pocket, the drug called Store. But he had to get close to the enemy to use it, too damn close.

The plane was over the mainland.

He saw the sloping hills and valleys. There were the rice paddies and the water oxen. There was farm machinery, tractors and such, but not enough to go around.

Production in many of the provinces was at a standstill because of the clashes between the people of Red China. Fighting among themselves, Nick thought. Like little children. They’ll never grow up.

He knew that one hundred and sixty persons were killed recently in an armed battle between two Communist groups in Amoy. The feuding groups were the Promotional Alliance and the Revolutionary Alliance. The Promotional Alliance was primarily a worker’s group backed by Communist artillery units, while the Revolutionary Alliance was made up mostly of peasants and had the support of Communist infantrymen. Chuanchow, a neighboring city, had rushed fifty truckloads of troops to maintain order.

Nick also knew that anti-Maoist organizations had been very active in the provinces of Kiangsi and Kweichow.

Though the time for revolution was ripe in Red China, Nick felt that Mao Tse-tung would keep the upper hand. He had control of the Red army, and that was the most important thing.

Nick lowered his seat to a reclining position and took a nap. The plane flew on, above the creamy clouds.

Nick bought a copy of the People’s Daily News, tucked it under his arm, and took the bus to Freedom Square. He registered in the Cathay Hotel just off the square. He chose the Cathay because it was one of the more modern hotels that wasn’t frequented by the western correspondents. He wasn’t looking forward to bumping into employees of the Toronto Wire Service. If any suspicious Chinese officials decided to check him out with Toronto, he would get a clean bill of health; it had already been arranged with the Toronto people at the wire service. But the genuine wire-service boys from Toronto hadn’t been notified, for obvious reasons. Might as well advertise as tell anyone of the wire-service boys. Nick wanted to stay clear of them.

The furniture in his room was plain but comfortable. He put away his clothes and slid the suitcase under the bed. He hung up his jacket, kicked his shoes off, and stretched out on the bed to read the Peking newspaper. It seemed that anti-Communist and anti-Mao forces in the southern province of Kwangtung had been using antirevolutionary economism and infiltration into revolutionary committees to alienate relations between the revolutionary masses and members of the committees.

It amazed Nick that the big shots let information like this get to the people. It would seem only natural that they would keep it quiet. Did Mao Tse-tung want these different groups to fight among themselves? That’s what it seemed like to Nick. It was an old political trick. The different factions were kept weak by fighting among themselves, and Mao Tse-tung stayed on top.

He put away the newspaper and sighed. Well, Hawk had been right. He and the other passengers had been searched after landing at the airport. A grinning Chinese with buck teeth had explained that much gold and silver was being smuggled into China, so it was essential that all visitors be searched. He apologized profusely for the inconvenience.

It was a good thing he had left his weapons behind. He would have been hard put to explain away a stiletto and a Luger.

When it was getting dark he changed to a dark-blue suit and stuffed his pockets with yuan notes that had been given him in exchange for Canadian money. Five fen coins jangled in his pants pocket as he went down to the street. He spied a small restaurant across the street He dined on lamb and rice and drank two cups of hot green tea.

It was dark when he left the restaurant. The moon was a mottled lead color. It hung low over the city.

He lit a Canadian cigarette from his pack, caught a bus, and sat behind a middle-aged couple who discussed the bus strike in Canton.

Nick got off and found himself in a practically deserted part of the city. He walked through winding streets till he came to a small curio shop. He hesitated, looked around, and saw a figure standing in a nearby doorway. It was a girl. She looked at him, then looked away.

Probably a prostitute, he figured. But that didn’t make sense. It was a deserted street; business would be bad. He didn’t think any more of it and approached the door of the shop. There was a button in the jamb. He knew his contact lived in back of the shop. Nick was about to thumb the button when a sharp crack sounded — a gunshot. And it came from within the store.

He tried the knob and the door opened. As he walked in, another shot was fired.

Chapter 4

Nick hurried through the store toward the back, where he could see a yellowish light seeping through the gaping door. He flung the door open, and a man craned his neck to look at Nick. The man was squatting near the body of a middle-aged Chinese. The man, also a Chinese, was dressed in western-style clothes and held a gun in his right hand. He started to rise, at the same time shifting his gun hand to cover Nick.

Nick dived at the rising figure, and they both toppled over, rolling against an old-fashioned rolltop desk. Nick brought his knee up sharply against the man’s groin. There was a cry of pain and outrage. Nick gripped the man’s right wrist and twisted it sharply. The gun dropped from paralyzed fingers.

Nick grabbed the gun, rolled the man over, pressed the gun against the man’s back, and squeezed off a shot. The bullet shattered the aorta, and Nick got to his feet.

He started for the middle-aged Chinese and stopped, his back as rigid as plaster. A girl had materialized in the doorway — the girl who had been partly hidden in the shadowy doorway outside.

She ignored the gun Nick trained on her and ran to the middle-aged Chinese. She knelt by the man’s side and started to weep. If it was an act, it was a good one.

Nick walked to the doorway and peered into the shop. There was no one else in the store. He leaned against the wall, watching the girl.

She finally stood up and faced him. She was young and good-looking. She was wearing a peasant-type pajamalike costume. Nick decided she would have looked good in a cheongsam, the dress that was so tight there had to be slits at both sides to enable the wearer to walk. But the cheongsam was forbidden in Red China because it was an example of bourgeois bad taste.

Nick nodded at the dead man who had been his contact. “You know him?” he asked the girl.

“He... he was my father.” Her chin trembled and he was afraid she was going to cry again. “I am a coward. I am so ashamed.”

“Why do you brand yourself a coward?”

She twisted her head to stare at the man Nick had killed. “I was outside when I saw Lum Fen enter my father’s store. I recognized him. He is a well-known assassin. I couldn’t do anything. I was paralyzed with fear. Then you walked by and there were the shots and I knew my father was dead. I almost ran away, but—” She shrugged her slim shoulders.

“You had to find out for sure, is that it?”

She nodded her head slowly.

Nick moved away from the wall, went to where the man he had killed was sprawled and searched his pockets. There were identification cards and a box of cartridges. He slipped the box into his jacket pocket and stood up. There was no sense in searching the man he had come to see, and no sense in going over the small office and living quarters. The man wouldn’t have written anything down.

“You’re an American, aren’t you?” the girl asked.

“Does it matter?” He approached the girl. “Does it really matter? I mean, deep down inside?”

She saw his twisted grin. “You don’t believe what I told you?”

“How do I know you’re not allied with the man I just killed?”

“Then kill me now,” she said defiantly.

“I may just do that. This is a dangerous business.”

“I know my father was working for the Americans.”

Nick stared at her. “Did he tell you all his secrets?”

She shook her head, no. “My father and I were not — very close. He learned that I — sold my body and he threw me out. Often I came to see him and try to make him understand. I did not like it, our not speaking to each other.”

“Do you live far from here?”

“No, not far.”

“Let’s go to your place and talk.”

“Yes. But first—” She went to her father’s body, knelt, and took something from his pocket She straightened up and Nick demanded to see what she had. She showed it to him. It was a piece of jade.

Many Chinese carried jade in their pockets for luck. It was a Chinese superstition.

“It was my father’s for many years,” she said. “He would often put his hand in his pocket just to rub it. See how smooth it is.”

“Yes. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

They walked through the shop, out the front door. Either no one had heard the shots or people here, like everywhere else, just didn’t want to mix in.

Nick put his hand on her shoulder when she wanted to walk faster. “Take your sweet time,” he said. “You don’t want to attract attention, do you?”

She told him she was called Lotus and she lived alone. Her father had been her only living relative and now he, too, was gone.

Nick only half listened to her. He felt the weight of the gun in his jacket pocket. He felt good, having a weapon. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it on the girl. She was too pretty to kill. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure about her. She seemed genuine enough, but—

They reached the house where she lived. A young couple was embracing near the front door. “There is a back way,” Lotus informed Nick. They half circled the building and walked through the back door and up one flight of stairs.

It was a nicely furnished apartment with deep inexpensive rugs and water colors on the walls. She quickly rummaged through a chest of drawers and brought out some snapshots and showed them to him. “Here are pictures of my father and me. You will see that I did not lie to you.”

“Okay. I’m convinced.” He handed the snapshots back.

“Would you like some tea?”

“I’d love some,” he said.

While Lotus prepared the tea, Nick examined the pistol he had taken from the assassin who had killed Lotus’s father. It was an Astra Firecat .25 caliber with a blue finish and plastic grips. It had four safeties and could be fired only when the grip safety was depressed. It was a Spanish pistol.

“You like guns?” Lotus asked, placing two cups of tea on the low table in front of him.

“It’s possible to become very attached to a gun,” he said, putting the weapon aside. “Especially after it’s helped you out of some tough spots. And a gun is not like a woman. It talks only when you want it to talk. When you want it to be silent it is silent.”

Lotus lifted her cup of tea and sipped. “It cannot keep you warm on a cold night,” she reasoned.

“No. But it can make you feel comfortable just knowing it’s nearby when you want it. You can trust it; you can’t trust a woman.”

“You never met a woman you trusted?”

He sipped some tea. “I can’t say no to that But women are too damn emotional, and even when you feel you’ve met one you could trust you still have to be on your guard.”

“You can trust me.”

“Can I?”

“Yes,” she said, almost vehemently. “I want to avenge my father. You must give me that chance.”

Nick studied her for the first time. She was slender and virginal-looking, with a slim long throat and black black hair that came down to her shoulders and curled inwards at the ends. Her smooth skin was ivory-tinted. Her lips were full and blood-red and her eyes were dark and almond-shaped. Around her neck was a strand of Mikimoto pearls.

Oriental girls look innocent, virginal, and calm, but underneath that veneer is a passionate nature that would put western women to shame.

Nick couldn’t help it; he started to think of Lotus in a sexual way, and his senses tingled with desire.

As if she could read his thoughts, Lotus lowered her eyes like a blushing bride and then raised them again. “You want me?” Her voice was low and husky. Her teeth were tiny pearls.

“Yes. Very much.”

She was in his lap and her arms snaked around his neck and her mouth was pressed hard against his. His hands found her small, firm breasts under her clothing.

The bed was firm, sturdy, and it didn’t creak.

Later, much later, they talked. Lotus was adamant about helping Nick. Fear had paralyzed her, fear had kept her from helping her father. Now she was angry at herself for her disgraceful behavior. She had to redeem herself. Nick had to give her that chance.

Nick tried to explain. “I’d have to take you into my confidence. I can’t afford to do that. Too much is at stake. If you’re caught you’ll be tortured.”

“You’re afraid I’ll talk?”

“Yes,” he answered bluntly.

“Are you here because of the Germans?”

Nick sat up, reached for a cigarette and lit it. “You claim your father didn’t tell you any of his secrets and yet you know of the Germans. Are you trying to confuse an old man?”

“You are not old.” She touched his arm with slender fingers. “Some of the Germans are my customers,” she said without embarrassment. “They are quartered in the Imperial Palace.”

That decided it Nick hated to use her, but it was necessary. And she did want to avenge her father. “Do you know exactly where the Germans stay in the Imperial Palace?”

“Yes. In the left wing, which almost circles the courtyard. Each man has his own bedroom.”

“Do you know anything of their leader?” Nick asked.

She took the cigarette from him, puffed at it, handed it back. “I have heard of a man who never smiles because his face is frozen. When my German customers talk of him they have respect in their voices, and sometimes fear.”

“Do the Germans talk to you a great deal?”

“When they are drunk. They like to drink. They talk of a new Germany, a more powerful Germany.”

Nick killed the cigarette. “You really want to help me?” he asked, studying her face.

“Oh, yes.”

“I don’t have to tell you of the danger involved.”

“I will do anything.”

He asked her if she could get him into the Imperial Palace. She nodded her head. It would be a very easy matter.

“Tomorrow night,” he said. “Can you make me a costume? A black costume? Something that will blend with the night?”

“Yes. I suppose so. But what is the purpose?”

“You spoke of the man who never smiles. The man with the frozen face. I want to kill him. It is as simple as that.”

“Is that your mission?”

“One of my missions, Lotus.”

“But how do you know where he will be? How will you know which room is his?”

“That’s a chance I’ll have to take,” Nick said. “If I goof up the mission I won’t be losing much. The Germans will know something is amiss when they find their Chinese assassin dead. So I may as well go all out and try to kill our friend with the frozen face.”

“If you shoot him, you’ll wake the others,” she pointed out.

“I have a more subtle weapon than a gun,” he said, thinking of the drug in his pen, the drug called Store. If he found Bormann he would inject the drug. When the others found Bormann they would think he was dead and either bury him or cremate him.

“Be careful of Stryker,” she warned in a tiny voice.

“Stryker?”

“He is called Captain Stryker. He answers only to their leader. He has been with me once. He is brutal He never drinks. He is not human.”

“I’ll watch my step,” Nick promised. “I’ll have to be going soon. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“It is almost dawn.”

He laughed. “Then I’ll see you tonight.”

“You can spare a few more minutes,” she said boldly, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

Their bodies met and became one.

A cool breeze came through the half-open window and bathed their naked bodies.

They kissed with the final thrust.

Her fingers ran through his hair, feeling his scalp. “It was very nice,” she whispered.

Lotus stood by the window and giggled. “I can hear them. They are making love, I think.”

Nick was dressed. He walked to her side and put an arm around her waist. “Isn’t that rude? Listening to other people making love?”

“I don’t think they care. The girl confides in me. She is not ashamed to tell me things. Listen carefully. You can hear them.”

Nick scowled. “I don’t want to hear them. I’m ashamed of you, Lotus. Would you like it if someone listened to us making love?”

Lotus suddenly covered her mouth with her palm to suppress her giggles and came away from the window. Nick heard a moaning from below the window. He walked away and lit a cigarette. “Is that how you spend your leisure time?”

“Of course not.” She pretended to be indignant. “Why should I excuse myself to you? I do not harm anyone. Aren’t we all curious to some degree? Aren’t there people who look at dirty pictures so they can be stimulated or just out of curiosity? Are they terribly awful people? Don’t people listen to other people’s private conversations?”

“All your arguments are weak.” Nick sat on the bed. “People have a right to privacy.”

“You aren’t fooling me,” she said, sitting down on the bed beside him. “You are just as curious as I am.” There was a thoughtful wrinkle in her forehead. “You are an agent for your government. Haven’t you ever listened in on someone’s conversation? With electric devices?”

“That’s something else again. Entirely different.” He brushed her arguments aside with a wave of his hand.

“Because you say so?”

“Let’s drop it,” he begged.

“Because you are losing the argument.”

It was the same old story, Nick was thinking. Never argue with a woman. A man can’t win. Women were the same all over the world. They were always right, no matter what.

There was only one way to shut her up. He closed her mouth with his and drew her down. He felt her arms around his neck and her body squirmed under his.

Their motions were slow, graceful, like the flow of mercury. Her sighs and gasps inflamed him.

When it was over she said: “The sounds the couple in the street made excited you. There was nothing wrong in that.”

He groaned. “Lotus, you’re crazy. Absolutely crazy.”

She caressed his shoulders and back. “Americans are basically shy. The truth shames them so they hide from it.”

“Philosophy at a time like this.” He tilted his head and decided to kid her. “My dear child, you are absolutely right. I had a very strict upbringing. In fact, I was a virgin till this very night.”

She lightly slapped his face. “You are mocking me.”

“In a very nice sort of way.”

She suddenly became serious. “Have you killed many men?”

He told her that was a very strange question. He wanted to know why she asked.

“I was curious.”

“I’ve lost count,” he said. And he wasn’t being mendacious.

“The man who is their leader. He is the one responsible for my father’s death, isn’t he?”

“I imagine so,” Nick said. “Why?”

“I would like to kill him with my own hands.”

Nick saw the hate in her eyes. “That’s a tall order, Lotus. He’s probably one of the most dangerous men in the world. And believe me, he’s hard to kill. I’ve tried.”

“I must try,” she insisted. “I must get the chance. I loved my father, and now he is dead.”

“Don’t fall to pieces on me, Lotus. That won’t help matters.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you’re a good girl,” he said. “I’ll let you go to the window and listen to the young couple downstairs.”

She laughed.

Chapter 5

Back in his hotel room, Nick thought about what Lotus had told him. The man with the frozen face. The man who was the leader. The man whose followers feared him.

It had to be Bormann.

But what was the thing with the frozen face? Was Bormann wearing a mask? No, that wasn’t the answer. Anyone could spot a mask. There would be no guesswork. Lotus would have said if it was a mask. That meant just one thing. Plastic surgery. Bormann had had plastic surgery done.

And who was Captain Stryker? That was a new name for Nick’s memory bank. There was never a shortage of henchmen for Bormann.

Nick strode to the window and looked down at the street teeming with people. It was early morning, and the streets were mobbed. The sun was climbing slowly, already a hot yellow ball. He had a whole day to kill Part of it would be spent sleeping.

He stripped and lay back on the bed. He absentmindedly fingered a scar somewhere on his body and tried to remember where and when he had won that souvenir. His trained mind remembered and he chuckled. It would have been funny if he couldn’t remember something like that. He thought of all the places he had been and all the places he hadn’t been. The former far outweighed the latter.

He realized he was thinking too much, and that wouldn’t do. He turned on his side and went to sleep.

Captain Gunther Stryker hated his uniform. It was too plain. He missed the little swastika and the wide leather belt and the shiny boots. The uniform he was forced to wear now was so damn plain and ordinary. But orders were orders.

He laid his uniform out on his bed and took off his pajamas. He looked at his inside wrist and saw the liver spot where once there had been two small bolts of lightning. The mark of the SS. The sign of his fraternity had been scraped off and pig skin grafted on. Many of his comrades had gone through it because the Americans were particularly looking for SS men.

Captain Stryker had been one of the first German soldiers of his generation to see action. Not in any of the bloody invasions but with the Blue Division in Spain. Hitler’s personal contribution to Franco. He had killed and he had loved it. It became second nature to him.

The defeat of Germany had been a bitter pill to swallow. But there had been promises of revenge, and he had bided his time with many of his comrades. He had spent many years in Switzerland and Portugal, keeping in touch, and finally the word came.

He was fifty-three and still fit. His belly was lean and hard without any fat. He ate the proper foods and did the proper exercises. It was funny how the Leader insisted on doing the Canadian Air Force exercises. But that didn’t bother Stryker. The only thing that bothered him now was inaction.

He put on the plain uniform that he despised and went to see the Leader. He walked down the hall, stopped at the wooden door and knocked. “Eintreten,” he heard the familiar voice call out. He turned the knob and walked in. He almost saluted in the old Nazi style but caught himself. The Chinese hosts frowned on such displays. And the Leader was eager to please their hosts — till the proper time.

The Leader was already dressed. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No. I had just awakened when your message arrived.”

“We’ll have breakfast together. But first we must talk. Do sit down. Captain Stryker.”

Captain Stryker sat down on a plain wooden chair and watched the bulky figure pace up and down. He saw the face that wasn’t a face. He saw the black gloves and knew what was inside those gloves. It was remarkable how the Leader used those claws. He could even shoot with them. Yet there was something about him that frightened him. He was the same man who was so close to Hitler during those wonderfully productive years. And yet there was a decided change in Martin Bormann. He could feel all that hate emanate from the pacing man.

“Lum Fen is dead.”

Stryker was startled at the news. Lum Fen was one of the best assassins working for the ChiComs. It was Stryker who had discovered the contact who was feeding the Americans information. It was Stryker who had persuaded Bormann to let Lum Fen assassinate the contact man. Now Lum Fen was dead.

“The man he went up against was weak and middle-aged,” Stryker said. “How could he have failed?”

“But he didn’t fail,” Bormann pointed out. He stopped pacing and looked down at his henchman with hollow eyes. “The contact is dead. Shot twice. Lum Fen did his job well. But it seems someone else came along and did our man in.”

Stryker stared up at the rigid face and shuddered inwardly. “But who? The contact was working alone.”

“Perhaps another agent to take the place of the man we caught in the Palace. An agent from AXE. It would be nice if that were so and the man turned out to be Nick Carter. I owe him so much. I would like to meet him once again.” The voice was silky smooth, almost oily. “Yes. That would be pleasant. Sometimes I think Carter and I were both born in hell. He is as ruthless as I am.”

“Verdammen?” Stryker swore. “What could he be after?”

“Only one thing,” Bormann intoned. “Agent Z.”

Captain Stryker got to his feet. “What shall we do?”

“Nothing we can do, my dear captain. Our friend, whoever he is, must make the next move.” Bormann put an arm around Stryker s shoulders. “Come. Let us go to the Speisezimmer and have breakfast.”

Nick tried on the black costume Lotus had made for him. There were two breast pockets and two side pockets. It was a one-piece outfit, easy to slip on, easy to slip off.

Lotus watched him take off the outfit. “Do you approve of my sewing?” she asked.

“Betsy Ross couldn’t have done better.” Nick put on his own clothes. He knew how he was going to slip into the Imperial Palace. He didn’t like it. But Lotus was right. It was the only way.

Lotus had on a very tight dress that showed her small, firm curves to advantage. The dress was red, the color of passion. She smoothed her hands over her hips. “Do you like the dress?”

“Yes. You look beautiful in it. Too bad it has to be wasted on a guard.”

“Don’t carry on so. I have forgotten the number of men I have been with.” She patted his cheek, stood on tip-toe, and pressed her lips to his. Her body felt warm and soft.

His hands caressed her back, feeling the flesh under the material of her dress. She was naked under the red garment.

“Are you excited?” she whispered.

“Very much.”

“We have time, do we not?”

“I can control myself,” he said with a grin. “Can’t you?”

She stepped back, her face and eyes sad. “I want you to make love to me now. I want to remember it while I’m with him.”

His hand caressed her cheek. “I understand.”

Her hands lifted the dress, pulled it off her head. She stood naked and unashamed. Her body was slim and perfect, with firm curves. She saw him looking at her with eager eyes, and her own eyes glowed.

His name was Lee Dan and he had been in the army for four years, since he was twenty. He came from a village in the province of Hunan where his father had been the mayor. He could have stayed in the village, working in the fields, but he had found that too dull, so he enlisted. Now he was nothing but a guard for the Germans. The two years he had spent in Manchuria had been profitable, enjoyable, and rather exciting. He had looted with his comrades, encouraged by his officers. He didn’t think the people he had shot and stolen from were simple farmers like the people from his own village. He was a soldier and he obeyed orders. These people were against Mao Tse-tung and they had to be punished.

Then he had spent a year near the Indian border. There was talk of an invasion, and he was eager for some action. The invasion never came. It was never explained just who was going to do the invading.

Now, after all that, he had been assigned to guard the wing of the Imperial Palace where the Germans lived.

He and his comrades didn’t like the Germans. They acted so superior. They were outcast Germans. Pariahs. They wore plain-looking uniforms and they looked ridiculous. Yet they marched and drilled as if preparing for a great war. What war?

Lee Dan looked up at the moon and shifted his rifle. It was a big, fat, romantic moon. He wished he had a woman.

There was a girl member of the Red Guards who interested him. She had flashing black eyes. He had taken her out twice but could never make any headway. Once she had allowed him to touch her as if she was giving him something precious. He made up his mind that if he took her out again he would demand she go to bed with him or he would never see her again.

A twig snapped and his mind cleared of his thoughts. “Who is that?” he demanded sharply.

“It is only I,” a voice came from the shadows. “Lotus.”

Lotus. He knew her. She was a prostitute who catered to the Germans. The Germans had all the luck. Lotus was very beautiful. He supposed that she was here to enter the wing where the Germans lived. Well, he wasn’t going to let her through. Even if he could, he wouldn’t. Just for spite. A Chinese girl going to bed with white men. And Germans.

He saw her in the moonlight, walking toward him. That dress. So tight. Her sharp breasts moved slightly as she walked. He felt like cracking her skull with his rifle butt.

No, he didn’t. He didn’t feel like that at all.

His body churned with desire. Yes, damn it. He wanted her. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want such a beautiful creature. He managed a scowl.

“What do you want?” He made his voice stern.

Lotus stood just a foot away from him. “I think I am lost.”

“You can’t fool me. You know the Germans live here. You’re looking for a German lover for tonight. Well, you can t get through. So be off, Chinese slut.”

Lotus stiffened. “Raper of women, killer of babies. Watch your tongue or I’ll cause you to lose it.”

“Just be off. I have my orders.”

“I am not looking for Germans.” Her voice became soft. “I was lonely. Have you ever been lonely?”

He couldn’t believe his ears. Was Lotus making herself available to him? He wasn’t that lucky. Then a thought struck him. Yes, of course. It was a matter of money. Perhaps she couldn’t find any customers this night so she decided to try the guards. “I have six yuan in my pockets. That is all the money I have.”

“I do not wish money, my friend.” She laughed lightly.

“What do you wish, then?”

“An hour of your time. If you can spare it?”

He looked about him. If he was caught off his post he would be brought up on charges. His superiors were very strict about that. And he was under the immediate supervision of the Germans. There was no telling what they would do.

Lee Dan shook his head with much regret. “I am sorry, Lotus. I am on duty. Another night, perhaps?” Curse the luck. After he had wished for such an opportunity Lotus had shown herself but he had to turn down her sweet and generous offer.

“Behind me is thick woods,” Lotus reminded him. “A bed of soft grass and we will be comfortable. Nothing happens here. You will be safe. Come.” She took his arm.

He shook his head rapidly. “I can’t. It is so tempting. But I can’t. If I leave my post—”

Lotus raised her skirt slowly. Her slim legs, her slim sleek thighs appeared. Then she took off the dress and she was naked in the moonlight. She passed her hand over her breasts. “I will not offer myself to you again. If you do not come with me you will always regret it. You will dream of me and curse yourself for acting like a child, afraid of nothing. And what if something does happen? Who will know you left your post? No one will know. Unless you tell them. And you are not that foolish, Lee Dan.”

Lee Dan raked her body with his hot gimlet eyes. He saw the slight flare of her hips, the line of her thighs, the flat belly, the sharpness of her breasts.

Lotus slowly turned, her dress over her right shoulder, and she walked into the woods. “Come, follow me, Lee Dan. We will go deep in the woods where we won’t be seen.”

He saw her tight buttocks and the backs of her moving thighs. He cursed himself for being all kinds of a fool.

He was only human.

He started to follow her and then quickened his pace, afraid of losing her in the woods.

Chapter 6

Nick Carter felt ridiculous in the black costume he was wearing, but it was decidedly necessary. He had to get into the wing where the Germans lived without being seen. The costume would help. Off to his left he heard rustling. He knew it was Lotus and the Chinese guard she had seduced from his post. He stayed in the shadows till he reached the courtyard. He darted quickly, a black figure outlined by the moonlight He was inside the wing.

His forehead felt gritty because of the dirt he had smeared on his face. Grin and bear it, my boy. He had the Spanish pistol in his hand and hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

He found a door ajar and crept toward it, and peered in.

There was a man sleeping on the bed, his back to Nick.

Nick prayed it was Bormann. He reached for the pen and widened the door, pushing it inward, stepping over the threshold. He was near the bed now. It was a young man. It wasn’t Bormann. He started to turn, but the man suddenly opened his eyes and started to look about.

Nick jabbed at the man’s neck with the pen and fingered the clip once. The German froze, fell back, his eyes open and staring.

What lousy luck. Nick swore. He backed out, crept silently down the hall, paused at a door. He was thinking furiously. Should he take another chance? He felt he was stretching his luck. Just one more. What the hell.

He opened the door and walked in as silently as a cat. He heard the deep snores. No, this man wasn’t Bormann either. He was backing up when the man sat up, rubbing his eyes. Nick stepped forward quickly, the pen in his hand.

The man’s eyes widened at the sight of the black-clad figure. His mouth opened to cry out when the pen hit home in the man’s neck.

He cursed his bad luck when he saw guards crossing the courtyard through a chest-high window in the hall. There had to be another way out. He turned, hurried down the hall, turned a corner and waited, hoping they wouldn’t come his way.

They were coming his way. Damn!

He started up the corridor when he saw a wide door partly open. He went for it and slipped inside, his gun ready, just in case. It was a big room with a bar at one side, a jukebox, of all things, and tables and chairs. Some kind of officers’ mess, most likely. To the left of the bar was another door. He tried it. It opened and he was outside, on the palace grounds.

He circled the wing, staying in the shadows when he could, hoping to reach the courtyard and the unguarded post before Lotus and her temporary lover were finished.

He was in the courtyard now. He headed for the guard post and was through. Up a well-used lane, across a field, and he stopped to catch his breath. Then he moved to the big tree where he had left his clothes. He took off the costume, put on his own clothes, and waited for Lotus.

When she arrived a few minutes later, he took her arm and they moved quickly and silently away from there.

The couple from last night were once again embracing by the front door. Lotus and Nick went into the building by the back way.

In her apartment, he dumped the bundle of black material that was his costume and heaved his two-hundred-plus into a soft armchair. “What’s with those two downstairs? Don’t they have a home?”

“Her parents are very strict,” Lotus explained. “She shares an apartment with them and cannot bring her boy friend up. And he lives with two brothers. So you see, it is very difficult for them.” She was stripping as she spoke. Naked, she left the front room and soon Nick heard her splashing in the tub in the bathroom.

He lit a cigarette and thought of the night’s escapade. He had aborted it. Perhaps he shouldn’t have bothered. But no, he had tried because one of his missions was to kill Bormann. He’d had to take the chance. It was just rotten luck it hadn’t worked out.

It would be stupid to try again. He would have to forget Bormann for the time being and concentrate on Agent Z. He had to get one of Bormann’s men alone and make him talk. He had to find the laboratory.

Lotus came out, wearing a cheongsam. The slits were high, and her thighs were long, slim, ivory-tinted. She looked lovely.

“You like it?”

“Very much. But I thought that kind of dress was forbidden in Red China.”

“It is.” She sat on his lap, and one slender arm snaked around his neck. “A friend brought it in from Hong Kong. I don’t wear it outside.”

“He wasn’t stopped?”

“He brought in several items,” Lotus said. “He paid the customs guards to look the other way. Corruption is one of our oldest virtues.” She kissed him. “He also brought me some rice wine. Would you like some?”

“Sure.”

She kissed him again, got off his lap, and went to get the wine and two glasses.

They drank, and Nick asked if there was any food around. Lotus made a dish of chicken and rice and Nick ate wolfishly.

Later, she asked him if he had killed the leader of the Germans. Nick explained to her what happened. He also explained about the drug he had used.

“They will think those two are dead... and they will bury them,” Lotus said. Then she laughed gleefully. “It is one hell of a joke, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Nick suddenly drew her toward him, and kissed her almost harshly.

She felt his urgency. There was no talk of the guard she had lain with that night It was not important. It was just something that had to be done. Besides, there had been many men. Right now, none of that meant anything. So very unimportant.

She ran her fingers through his hair. They kissed passionately. She knew this was a man she could learn to love. But that was just a dream. She was a realist Life on the mainland made one a realist.

Nick stood up, cradling her in his arms. He carried her into the bedroom and deposited her gently on the bed.

She watched him undress and then she took off the cheongsam. She had been naked underneath.

He joined her on the bed, and her body was alive and moving.

Nick took a hot bath, and Lotus insisted on washing his back. He declined her offer to wash all of him. She used a heavy towel and dried him while he stood with a wry grin on his face. “I can dry myself there,” he protested.

“Don’t be silly.”

He put on a pair of shorts, and they sat in the front room, eating almond cakes and drinking goat’s milk. He realized he was spending more time in Lotus’s apartment than in his own hotel room. Well, it was more pleasant here.

“Are you going back to the Imperial Palace?” she asked him.

“No. I think tomorrow night I will let the victim come to me. With your help.”

“I will do anything,” she said fervently. “You know that.”

He told her what he wanted. She was to date one of the German officers. He was to come to her flat, where Nick would be waiting. He would be too involved with her to notice Nick until it was too late. If the idea was too distasteful...

There was a tight smile on her lovely face. “You know I will do it. There is nothing I won’t do to help you.”

“It’s a calculated risk,” Nick explained. “He may bring someone even though you tell him not to. Or he might tell some of his fellow officers where he is going. When he doesn’t return, you will be under suspicion. So think it over carefully before you agree to it.”

“There is nothing to think about,” she said, almost angrily. “I am in this to the very end.”

“Let’s hope the end doesn’t come sooner than expected.”

“I know you are not afraid.”

“I have my moments,” Nick conceded.

“You are a very brave man,” she said, embarrassing him. “I have never met anyone like you before.”

“Your father was a brave man. He believed in something and died for his beliefs.”

She put her hand on his thigh. “Can you spend the night with me?” she asked.

He shook his head. It was too dangerous.

There was a silence between them. They had met just the other night, and yet there was a strong bond between them. It wasn’t just sex. That was just a part of it. It was something else, something neither one would be able to explain. But it was there. Strong and invisible.

Each felt admiration, respect, and loyalty toward the other. They were a team; one complemented the other.

Nick knew it would be awkward when they parted. It would come to that when his mission was completed. Unless he died. And he had no intention of dying. His luck had held good, but it couldn’t last. The time had to come when his number would be up. He only wanted it to be quick when it did come.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, studying his pensive mood.

He didn’t want to tell her that he had been thinking of death. The grim reaper was looking over both their shoulders. He didn’t want to remind her of that.

“Thinking of my college days.”

“You looked so grim,” she whispered. “I thought you were thinking dark thoughts. So I disturbed you.”

“That’s all right.”

“Were you thinking dark thoughts?”

He managed a loose grin. It was hard to fool her. He remembered something from Virgil.

Here’s Death, twitching my ear: “Live,” says he, “for I’m coming.”

Nick knew what Virgil meant. Live for the moment at hand, and to hell with tomorrow.

“No dark thoughts,” he said gruffly. “Not when I’ve got such a pretty doll like you with me.” He reached for her, and she was available.

Chapter 7

Captain Stryker had never seen the Leader in such a fury. But he couldn’t blame him. Two of their men had been found dead this very morning without any marks on their bodies except for puncture marks on the necks.

The last reports had just been received. No one had seen a thing.

They were in Bormann’s room, just Bormann and Stryker. The man who had found the bodies had been ordered to keep silent about it, but Bormann knew such a thing was impossible. And his men and the Chinese guards had been questioned. It was futile to hope that the business of the two dead men could be covered up.

Bormann was in a rage, ranting and raving, and Stryker thought the man’s face would split open. He knew about the plastic job. He had been in the next room while the operation had been in progress. He was close to Bormann and enjoyed his position. He wasn’t as clever as the scientist Walther Kerner, but he was shrewd enough to know that a man of Bormann’s genius could carry him far even if it meant always being a subordinate.

It took a while for Bormann to calm down, but even then he was shaking a bit. “There must be some explanation for this madness.”

“The puncture marks on the necks,” Stryker said. “Could that have caused their deaths?”

“Very likely. Remarkable coincidence otherwise, both men having the same marks. I don’t believe Dracula has returned from the dead to inflict this tragedy on us. It had to be the same man who murdered our man Lum Fen. I see the fine hand of AXE at work. A man who enters the enemy camp undetected has to be a rather remarkable man of daring. Yes. Of course. Nick Carter. But how did he do it? How did he get past the guards? And how did he kill the men? A poison? I can’t see any agent from AXE using poison.”

Stryker scratched the side of his nose. “Perhaps he got through by bribing a guard?”

“A thousand-to-one shot. You think he approached a guard in the middle of the night and tried to bribe him?” Bormann’s voice was incredulous. “Make sense, Captain Stryker. Nick Carter, if the man is Carter, is not a fool. No, this was well planned.”

“What will I do with the men?”

“Bury them. Or perhaps you want to stuff them?” Bormann appeared exasperated. “I seem to be surrounded by incompetence.”

Stryker stiffened but held his tongue. He was a good soldier and proud of it “Yes, sir.”

“You questioned the guards personally?” Bormann asked for the fourth time.

“Yes.”

“No man left his post?”

Stryker shook his head.

“Question them again,” Bormann ordered. “I don’t believe in ghosts. A man of flesh and blood did this deed. Keep after those guards. One of them must have left his post. But which one? Keep after all of them. Break them down. The man who left his post must confess.”

“But why should he leave his post?” Stryker asked. “Unless he was bribed?”

“Nonsense. There has to be an explanation. And it isn’t bribery. No, not bribery with money. You don’t plan a mission and then approach a guard with money, hoping he will accept it and take off. That’s ridiculous. But a woman can seduce a man away from his post Yes — a woman.” Bormann nodded his head slowly. “That makes more sense, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it does,” Captain Stryker said weakly.

“But you don’t think so, is that it?” Bormann lifted a bottle of whisky and poured some into a glass. “It isn’t hard for a man like Nick Carter to find a woman to help him. Even in Red China.”

“Perhaps she was sent with Carter to aid him?” Stryker said.

“Yes. That’s possible.” Bormann drank a third of his whisky. “Either he brought a woman with him or found one here to help him. That doesn’t matter, anyway. The thing that does matter is he’s done damage. I can’t have our men get into a panic. I need them for the right moment, and that may be very soon.”

“The drug is almost perfected?”

“According to Kerner,” Bormann said. “Yes, he’s sure he’s close to perfecting Agent Z. Very close. And then we strike. We strike hard.” His voice rose and grated against Stryker’s ears. “Germany is waiting for us, Captain Stryker. We cannot fail our nation.”

Stryker almost raised his arm in the Nazi salute. He wanted to click his heels. It would be like the old days.

“Agent Z,” Bormann said, lowering his voice. He was calm again. “It will be our salvation. You can do anything with Agent Z, depending on the dosage.” He saw how eager Stryker was, hungry for more information about Agent Z. Only he and Kerner knew the real potential of Agent Z. He had fed his men bits and pieces to whet their appetite. To them Agent Z was a secret weapon, a great weapon. “I can inject you with Agent Z and you would become my slave,” he suddenly boasted.

“I am your slave now,” Stryker said humbly.

“But think, Captain Stryker. What if you weren’t my slave but a high government official? I find a way of getting you alone and then I use Agent Z. Your mind becomes clouded, open to suggestion. I whisper in your ear, plant seeds of hate in your brain. You think the way I want you to think. Your whole personality changes. You are in a hypnotic spell that lasts forever. You are a different person. You are just what I want you to be. Imagine that, Stryker. Conquering the minds of government officials. You control them. And then you control their nation.”

“It’s a form of brainwashing, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Bormann mused. “You can say that.”

“Science has taken over,” Stryker said, regretfully. “Atom bombs. Germ warfare. Everything push-button. Rifles and machine guns will soon be obsolete. Soon even soldiers will be obsolete.”

“There will always be a need for the trooper, Captain Stryker. Now see about the disposal of the dead men and get after those Chinese guards. Don’t be too harsh with the guards. We don’t want any incidents to mar our harmonious relationships, do we?”

“I will attend to everything.” Stryker bowed stiffly and stalked out.

A good man, Bormann thought, watching the door close behind Captain Stryker. Not exactly brainy but loyal to the cause.

He finished his whisky.

There was too much at stake to allow this elusive enemy to wreck his plans. He was close, very close, to accomplishing the impossible. Yes, the impossible. A Germany with a democratic form of government. Only a miracle could entirely tear it down. But there was a good chance; the recent elections told him that. He needed a miracle, and the miracle was close at hand.

His gloved hand closed over the glass and it shattered. He would shatter Carter the same way. He would find him and kill him.

Did AXE know about Agent Z? But how could they? His men had caught the AXEman before he could leave the palace grounds. The man had died with the secret still within him. Or was he wrong? Had the man managed to get a message through to Washington? It was possible.

Another man had taken his place. Another agent from AXE. Carter. He was convinced it was Carter.

How much did AXE know? He had to find out. He couldn’t afford to let Carter roam about at will, wrecking all his plans. He had to silence the man once and for all.

He poured whisky into a fresh glass.

In his mind’s eye he saw Carter caught and brought to him. He saw himself torturing the AXE agent. He heard Carter’s screams and pleas for a quick death. He laughed and caught himself. That wouldn’t do. The others would hear. They would think he was crazy. Well, perhaps he was.

He sat down heavily in a leather-backed chair. It was a miracle he wasn’t completely mad. Hiding from the world, afraid of being caught by the police of almost every nation in the world. Hunted and hated.

Well, he also could hate. And he hated the weaklings that dominated the world. The meek. The little people. They were mere ants under his boots. He would trample them. He would trample them all. And he laughed loudly. He didn’t care if his men heard him. He didn’t care if the world heard him.

It was rare when he laughed.

Chapter 8

Nick watched the parade from the tearoom where he had ordered tea and rice cakes. How the Chinese loved parades. They were shooting off firecrackers and beating kettledrums.

It was better than a mob of chanting, pushing, screaming Red Guards, but the Red Guard frenzy hadn’t finished. They were still active in many provinces. Only the army could stop them, but it was obvious they had been told to keep their hands off.

Mao used the Red Guard to get rid of his enemies. He knew how to handle them, but sometimes they did get out of hand; too many incidents that were embarrassing to Mao.

He left the tearoom and walked down the street. There were many foreign visitors in Peking, so he wasn’t out of place. Although Red China had strained relations with almost every country except Albania, she didn’t mind foreigners. The people themselves were friendly enough unless steamed up by the Red Guard. Then they usually went after the English.

He found the small park in the square and sat down on a metal bench. It was quiet there, with just a few people taking the sun. He lit a cigarette and looked like any other white tourist. He knew he hadn’t been followed from his hotel. He had been careful He hoped Lotus had also been careful.

He was lighting his third cigarette when she showed up.

“How did it go?” he asked.

She smiled, showing her tiny white teeth. “It is arranged. He will come tonight.”

“I don’t want to rush things, but—”

“I understand,” she said, not letting him finish. “His name is Maximilian Able. He is a captain like Stryker, but not close to the man with the frozen face.”

“You must keep him occupied—”

She nodded her head. “Yes. You told me.”

“It will be over with quickly,” he promised.

“It does not matter,” she said firmly. “I have been with him before. Do not make an angel out of me, Nick. We both know what I am.”

Nick wanted to tell her that she was a sweet kid, but he thought it would sound lame. Instead, he patted her knee. “I’ll be there early.” He offered her a cigarette, and she accepted. He realized he was running low on cigarettes and asked her if she knew where she could get some American or Canadian cigarettes.

“I know what it is,” she sighed. “The cigarettes the tobacco shops sell here are awful. But I know someone.”

“You’re an amazing creature.”

“I live by my wits. I could work in a factory or a farm, but that isn’t for me. I don’t even have a philosophy, and that’s bad. I only know I’m not happy with the way things are being run here. It’s a feeling. There will never be any changes. Not drastic changes anyway. That’s the way I feel about it. That’s no good, Nick. But I can’t help the way I feel, can I?”

He didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything.

Soon it was time for them to part. She got up and walked away and he watched her trim hips under her very slim waist. Some young men entering the park turned to stare at her tight buttocks.

Nick stood up, dropped his cigarette butt, heeled it against the ground, and started to leave the park.

Two Chinese police were entering the park. They were walking toward Nick. He casually kept going till one of them spoke to him in perfect English. He was tall, looked graceful as a ballet dancer, and wore a thin mustache. “Just a moment, please. May I see your passport?”

Nick stopped. He grinned easily at the man. “Sure. Why not?” He showed the man his passport. “Anything wrong?”

Still polite, the policeman said, “Just routine, sir.” He examined the passport. “Where are you staying?”

Nick told him.

“That is odd,” the man said. “I thought all the correspondents stayed at the Lenin Hotel.”

“You know how it is,” Nick said easily. “All the boys want to do is talk shop. Then they try to get you drunk and steal your story if you have one.”

The policeman handed back Nick’s passport. His lips pulled back in a waiter’s surface smile. “Sorry for the slight inconvenience. Just routine. We hope your stay here is a happy one.”

“I’m having a ball,” Nick confided.

The two men continued on their way.

Nick left the park and crossed the square. He didn’t believe that nonsense about it being just routine. Probably stemmed from his activity of last night. He wondered if they would check his hotel room. That policeman who had looked at his passport was no dummy. He looked plenty shrewd.

Well, to hell with them. Nick was out of the square and walking slowly and easily, like a man who didn’t have a care in the world. Let them check his hotel room. The pistol he had taken from the Chinese assassin was in Lotus’s room, and so was the costume she had made for him. If they searched his room they would come up with a big fat nothing...

It was two hours before he got back to his hotel room. The hotel clerk tried to avoid looking at him. Nick went through everything and knew his stuff had been gone through with a fine-tooth comb. As far as he was concerned he was safe.

They couldn’t have found anything that would have given him away. And if they had they would have been waiting for him. So he was safe, for the time being, anyway.

He took a bath, changed into a blue linen suit, and went out. He had a light dinner in a small restaurant, then hopped onto a bus and went part way. He walked a few blocks, retraced his steps to make sure he wasn’t being followed, then continued on his way to Lotus’s flat.

She was wearing red silk pajamas that clung to her. “I found American cigarettes. Three packs.” She kissed him. “And I have two bottles of rice wine.”

“You’ve been very busy, I see.” He opened a pack of cigarettes and they lit up. “I came up the back way,” he told her. “Force of habit, I guess.”

“It is safer for you.”

They drank some wine, and he stood by the window, watching the far distant moon edging upwards. The sky was clear and there were a thousand stars to keep the moon company.

“He is coming,” she said, her arm around his waist.

He saw the tall figure crossing the street. The man didn’t seem too steady on his feet.

Nick stepped away from the window, and Lotus went to get the Spanish pistol. He stuck the gun in his belt and she made room for him in the bedroom closet by removing dresses and stuffing them into a bureau drawer. He got into the closet and closed the door, but not completely. Just a narrow crack so he could see into the room.

There was a loud knock, and Lotus went to answer.

He heard the front door open and close. It was stifling in the closet, and he started to sweat. The man’s voice came to him, loud and guttural. A slur on words due to whisky, too much whisky. There was some laughter, forced laughter on Lotus’s part. Then, finally, they came into the bedroom, and Nick had a clear view of the man.

Tall, with wide shoulders. Handsome. Dark brown hair. Maximilian Able. A captain in Bormann’s secret army. He started to take off his plain uniform. “A night made for love, my Chinese beauty. That couple was downstairs again. You should rent them your room. Make some money on the side. Five marks an hour.” He laughed and removed his shirt. There was a scar above his left hip.

Lotus took off her pajamas and, naked, she crawled into bed. The man stared at her greedily. He took off his shorts and followed her into bed.

Nick took the pen from his jacket breast pocket. He watched the man fumble, paw, kiss, and prepare for the invasion of the girl’s body.

Nick selected the right moment — when the man was too engrossed in what he was doing to be on his guard — to step out of the closet and approach the bed. He jabbed at the man’s neck and clicked the cap once. It was all over, and Lotus disengaged herself. She ran into the bathroom and Nick turned the man over. If he didn’t know better he would have sworn the man was dead.

Lotus came back and put on her pajamas.

Nick stripped and put on the man s uniform.

“What are you doing?” she wanted to know.

“When he doesn’t return they’ll be looking for him. That couple downstairs saw him come up. And he may have told some of his buddies that he was coming here.”

Lotus nodded her head wisely. “So you are going to leave here, pretending to be him. If the couple downstairs are questioned they will say they saw him leave.”

“Right. I’ll double back and come up the back way. Then we’ll work on our friend here.” Nick patted the man’s belly. “I’ll bet hell have a lot to say.”

Nick went down and walked out the front door. The couple were close together, whispering. He bumped into them, keeping his face down, mumbled something in German, and kept on going, pretending he was drunk. When he was two blocks away, he made a wide circle, hoping he wouldn’t get lost in doubling back. The streets were narrow, and he threaded his way carefully till he was in back of the apartment house. He went up the back way and Lotus kissed him as if he had returned from a long journey.

He stripped off the uniform and dressed the man and then put on his own clothes. “You’d better wait in the other room,” he advised her. Without a word, Lotus went away.

Nick found some cord and bound the man’s wrists and ankles to the bed. He put the gun on the night table and then used the pen again, this time injecting the man with the antidote.

The German started to breathe again. He opened his eyes in wonder and then anger.

Nick picked up the gun and showed it to the officer. “I’ll blow your brains out if there’s an outcry. Do you understand me?”

The man’s eyes narrowed with hate.

“I have some questions to ask you, and you’re going to answer them. Do you understand?”

Stubbornly, the man shook his head.

Nick grinned wolfishly. He put the gun aside and then went to work on the German with his hands. The man gasped and blacked out.

Nick went to the bathroom, filled a glass with water, went back to the bedroom and tossed the water in the man’s face. The eyes opened slowly and stared up at Nick.

“All you got was a sample,” Nick said. “I’ll teach you what pain really is.” His hands got busy again. Once the man started to scream and Nick dug two fingers in his windpipe.

Nick worked up a good sweat before the stubbornness left the German. The officer finally nodded his head and answered freely as Nick threw questions at him.

Nick used the pen once again and the man went under. Nick went into the front room and sank into a chair. Lotus brought him a glass of rice wine. “I heard him groaning. It chilled my blood.”

Nick drained the glass. “Don’t ask me to apologize for my actions. I do what I have to.”

Lotus touched his shoulder. “I understand.”

Chapter 9

Nick had what he wanted. The laboratory was located near the village of Tsin Then. He learned from Lotus that the village was less than a hundred miles from Peking. Nick told Lotus everything the German had told him, leaving nothing out. There was a new Nazi movement in Germany, and Bormann was more than just a small part of it Bormann had promised to help the movement with the most powerful weapon ever invented and that, to Nick, meant giving Agent Z to the movement. The German in Lotus’s bedroom hadn’t mentioned Agent Z, which hadn’t surprised Nick. Bormann had gathered around him men who followed blindly, never asking questions. So Bormann had kept Agent Z a secret except to a small handful of his closest confederates. The German knew that Captain Stryker had information about this mysterious weapon. There were a couple of others but he, himself, had been told nothing.

“I thought the man with the frozen face was working for the Chinese?” Lotus wondered out loud.

“The old doublecross,” Nick said. “He’s using the ChiComs to get what he wants. Equipment, technical help, and time. He has no intention of handing Agent Z over to the Chinese. He needs it to push his way to the top. That kraut in there—” Nick jerked his thumb toward the bedroom door — “knew about the laboratory but not what was going on. He’d been there to help supervise the delivery of laboratory animals and equipment. Lotus, I’m going to Tsin Then.”

“You’re going now?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going with you,”

He started to shake his head but saw the determination in her eyes. “It’s too damn dangerous,” he said weakly.

“I know a family in Tsin Then. They will give me food. You can’t enter the village. The villagers would be suspicious. No whites ever go there.”

“I’ll dump our friend in the closet Hell keep for a week. I’ll take along that black costume you made. It may come in handy.”

While Nick lugged the German to the closet, Lotus wrapped the costume and some food in packages and then changed into a black pajamalike outfit. They went out the back way.

On Chow Din Avenue they came across an old Packard. Nick worked quickly. He lifted the hood, crossed some wires, and soon they were driving away. In the dashboard compartment Lotus found identification papers that belonged to the owner. He was a factory foreman.

“An ordinary worker usually can’t afford a car,” Lotus explained to Nick.

They left the city without being stopped, and Nick breathed a sigh of relief. They stopped to eat and then continued.

It was two in the morning when they came within sight of the village. Nick left the dirt road, drove through some foliage, and stopped near a tree. He didn’t want to leave the car in open country. He cut the motor and got out.

“This family you mentioned — you’re sure you can trust them?” he asked her.

She made a wry smile. “You can’t trust anyone these days, not even your own family. I’ll give them a story about taking a drive out here with some man. I’ll ask them for some food and then I’ll start talking about the laboratory. Maybe they’ll tell me what we want to know.”

“You’re taking a chance,” Nick told her. “You’ll be playing it by ear, and that’s no good.”

“They may get suspicious,” Lotus conceded. “Give me all your money.”

Nick handed over all the yuan notes in his pockets.

“I’ll pay them for the food. Even if they get suspicious they won’t say anything. Not with all this money to keep them happy.”

Nick watched her run off toward the village, then he stripped and put on the black costume. It was an hour before she returned.

She had chicken pies and rice wine, which they finished off first. Then she told Nick what she had learned. The laboratory was patrolled by Chinese guards. It was a three-house compound. The white-painted house was the laboratory and the other houses, drab in appearance, housed the guards and the technicians. The villagers didn’t know what was going on. They always saw white-coated men but never the guards, enter the white house. That was how Lotus knew the white house was the laboratory. Some of the villagers worked in the compound cleaning and washing, but they weren’t allowed in the house painted white.

“Listen, Lotus, you’re sticking right here. And no use arguing with me.” He gave her the pen and told her how it worked. “In case I’m caught, I don’t want this to fall into their hands.”

Lotus took the pen, put it away, and watched him walk away. He headed to the left of the village where the laboratory was located.

Lotus had no intention of staying in a safe place while Nick went out alone against a formidable enemy. She waited five minutes and then went out after him.

When Nick caught a glimpse of the compound he dropped to his hands and knees and then slowly flattened out and started crawling, snakelike, toward the three houses. There were no wire fences but there were tall plaster posts, which meant electric-eye beams.

He was in an open field and there wasn’t much moonlight. There were five guards circling the compound. They had rifles and hand guns. They walked in pairs except for one guard. They were within the circle of posts.

Nick had no way of killing the electric beams. He was stumped. Even if he had grenades, there wasn’t much he could do with them. If he lobbed a few into the laboratory, he would do just so much damage. He had to blow the place sky-high. That meant explosives.

He started to move crablike to his left. He would circle the entire compound that way. Maybe an idea would hit him. Maybe the posts with the electric eyes didn’t entirely circle the compound. It was something to do.

His foot brushed something, and it gave. He cursed silently and reached through the short grass. A wire.

There was a shout from within the compound. Then a guard ran out of one of the drab buildings, gesturing, shouting, running to the now-confused guards.

Nick could hear a ringing from the compound. A jeep lumbered from around a building, loaded with guards. A beam of light streaked from the top of a building and played about the open field.

Nick had the Astra Firecat in his hand. He took careful aim, and the bullet shattered the searchlight.

The guards started firing wildly, aiming at the direction the shot had come from. The jeep had left the compound, its wheels digging in the dirt. Nick aimed at the driver and squeezed the trigger. There was a yelp, and the guard folded. The jeep overturned, pinning two guards under its weight. The other guards flattened themselves out against the ground, their rifles barking.

Bullets kicked up dirt near Nick’s head. He retreated wisely. Another beam of light tunneled through the night and played along the field a few yards in back of him. There was firing from his left.

The guards from the compound had outflanked him while he had been shooting it out with the guards in the jeep.

He looked to his right. Two guards were coming toward him. He kept moving back, hoping the beam of light wouldn’t find him.

A guard was running toward him, a rifle at his shoulder. Nick shot him dead.

Suddenly the air was filled with crisp Chinese words. Someone in the compound was using a bullhorn. The guards were being ordered to capture the invader alive.

All rifle fire stopped.

Nick shifted his body so that he was facing to his left He saw two guards rising from their prone position. They started running toward him. Nick emptied what was left in the chamber, and both guards died on their feet.

He was reloading the clip when the light caught him. He cursed and dived into darkness. He heard feet hitting the ground, and a rifle butt caught him at the side of his head. He turned over, started to rise, and felt another blow at the back of his neck. He went down. A dark pool opened up and he dived into it. He was falling, falling... down a bottomless pit...

In the distance, hidden in the shadows, Lotus watched breathlessly as the guards carried Nick away. The beam of light caught the guards and Nick and followed the contingent to the compound.

Lotus moved in the dark on hands and knees and came across the body of one of the dead guards. He had been shot in the head. She quickly took off her outer clothes and put on the dead man’s uniform. She hid the pen Nick had given her in the breast pocket of the jacket and picked up the dead man’s rifle.

Her hair was hidden under the peaked cap. She prayed silently as she walked to the compound. There were soldiers milling about She blended with the crowd and listened to the chatter. She learned that the foreign devil had been taken to the white building.

Chapter 10

Walther Kerner was fifty-one; he was a stocky man with a full crop of dark brown hair. His eyes were slate gray, and his nose was thick over bulbous lips. He had on an undershirt and a pair of pants. His feet were encased in bedroom slippers. He was tired, grumpy, and annoyed. He wanted to go back to sleep, but there were important matters to settle.

He was standing in a small, bare room, and on either side of him was a Chinese guard. In the center of the room, sitting on the only chair, was Nick Carter. He had on a pair of shorts and nothing else. His costume had been taken from him and a pail of water had been used to bring him to. Then he had been taken to this room to await Walther Kerner.

Kerner and Nick stared at each other, measuring each other like two fighters before the first round.

“Are you English?” Kerner finally asked.

“Does it matter?” Nick asked softly.

Kerner cocked his head. “An American. Well, well. Don’t you know Americans aren’t allowed in Red China? You’ve broken the law, Mr. ... uh—”

“Smith.”

“Oh, yes? Smith, did you say? A very unusual name.” Kerner advanced toward Nick and then suddenly shot his fist out, catching Nick on the side of his face. Nick toppled off the chair, hit the hard floor. He pushed the floor away from him and got to his feet.

“You may sit down again,” Kerner said generously. “You’ve killed six of my men. You’ve come from nowhere to spy on me. And to make matters worse, you’ve interrupted my sleep.”

“I’m sorry about the last.”

“I try to keep my humor but it is hard. You will please tell me who you are and why you’re here.”

“What would you say if I told you I’m Peter Pan and I’m looking for never-never land?” Nick asked glibly.

“You realize, of course, that I have no choice but to kill you,” Kerner said, all levity gone from his voice. “How you die depends upon you. It can be quick with but a minimum of pain or—” Kerner shrugged his shoulders. “You understand my meaning?”

“I get the general picture.”

“Are you CIA?”

“Look,” Nick said, “what’s the difference? I lost out It can’t matter to you—”

Kerner used his fist again, and Nick found himself on the floor. It was an unexpected blow. He hadn’t seen it coming and hadn’t rolled with the punch. He hoped he hadn’t lost a tooth.

“You will please get up,” Kerner said, almost gently.

“What for?” Nick said. “You’ll only knock me down again. Besides, I’m quite comfortable down here.”

Kerner motioned to one of the guards, who started to kick Nick viciously in the shins. Nick scrambled to his feet.

“Sit down,” Kerner said.

Nick said, his voice thick with emotion, “You’d better kill me now. You won’t get a damn thing out of me.” He sat down on the cold metal chair.

“I could always torture you,” Kerner said grimly. “But time is running short.” He pretended to yawn. “And I do need my sleep. Yes, Mr. Smith, if that’s your name, you will die immediately.”

The door behind Kerner opened and a beautiful Chinese girl in a quilted robe walked in. She was tall for a Chinese girl. Her hair was raven-black and her face was hauntingly beautiful.

Kerner turned and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “I’m almost finished with this man, my dear. I’ll join you presently.”

But the girl was not to be put off. “Did you find out who he is?”

“No.” Kerner frowned. “And it doesn’t matter. I’m going to have him shot right now.”

The girl surveyed Nick’s half-naked body. “It would be a waste.”

“Now, Sim Chan, let me handle this.” Kerner put an arm around her waist and tried to lead her out of the room.

“I’m not a child,” Sim Chan said, refusing to budge. She removed Kerner’s arm from about her waist.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Kerner said angrily.

“This man killed six of my people,” Sim Chan said hotly. “And you want to give him a quick death!”

Kerner glanced at Nick. “You want him tortured?”

“Better than that,” Sim Chan said. “Let us use Agent Z on him.”

Nick stiffened. A cold shiver shot up his spine.

The idea seemed to delight Walther Kerner. The scientist beamed. “Yes, why not? I’m sure the drug is perfected. And we need a human being to experiment on.”

Nick jumped to his feet “You’ll never use that drug on me.” He rushed Kerner. One of the guards slammed his rifle against Nick’s chest.

Sim Chan watched the American fold and fall heavily to the floor.

“Let us get everything ready,” Kerner said, and they left the room, leaving Nick alone. One of the guards locked the door and stood with his back to it as Kerner and Sim Chan walked down the corridor to the laboratory. The second guard said he was going to get some tea and took off.

As soon as he was out of the building he was surrounded by the others, who demanded to know what was going on. The guard told them that the scientists were going to use the drug on the foreign devil. He refused to answer any more questions and made his way to the dining room. He didn’t see one of the guards following him. The mess hall was empty. He went to an urn and picked up a heavy metal cup from a pile nearby and started to pour tea into his cup when a sudden noise made him turn. He saw the rifle butt rushing toward his head. His cry died in his throat.

Lotus swung her rifle again and heard the man’s skull crack.

She put the rifle aside and dragged the man off toward a closet that held brooms, mops, and pails. She dumped him inside and tossed in his rifle. She closed the door and went to get her own rifle.

She walked across the yard and entered the white building. She wandered down a corridor till she came to an open doorway and saw a huge room with a white man and a Chinese girl working over a table that contained bottles and test tubes. The man was drawing a liquid from a tube into a hypodermic needle. He laid the hypo down. “Shall we go collect our friend?” the white man asked.

The girl nodded and followed the man out of the room through a door to their right.

Lotus walked in. Her eyes were on the hypodermic needle.

Chapter 11

A living mushroom. That was what Nick was thinking when the door opened and Kerner and the guard walked in. Sim Chan waited outside in the hall. The guard motioned with his rifle and Nick walked out, Kerner behind him. Sim Chan led the way. They entered the laboratory.

Lotus was there. She made her voice harsh and spoke to the guard.

“What is he saying?” Kerner demanded to know.

“Fong was taken ill,” Sim Chan explained. “He asked this guard to take over for him.”

“No matter.” Kerner faced Nick and folded his arms over his chest. “Now you will get a taste of German genius.” His voice and attitude were smug. “I take it for granted you know about Agent Z. That is why you came. To find out more about the drug or to destroy it. Perhaps both.”

“Sure,” Nick said scornfully. “German genius. That’s why you lost the war. It was easy taking over the small countries. But when it came to—”

“Be still,” Kerner shouted His face was blood-red. His humor was completely gone.

Nick kept on goading the German scientist. It was an old trick but sometimes it still worked. He knew that Sim Chan was there to keep an eye on Kerner. He wanted to turn them against each other.

“How the mighty have fallen,” Nick said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Your country is no longer your own. Now you have to hide in the shadows, do your work in secret because you are afraid...”

“Fool!” Kerner thundered, smarting under Nick’s words. “You don’t know what you’re saying. There will be a new Germany, and soon. With Agent Z in our possession we can do anything. Do you hear? Anything. We will finish what Hitler started. The world will be ours and—” He caught his breath. He was talking too much. He turned slightly and saw Sim Chan staring at him. Those deep black Oriental eyes. He could never know what was going on in her mind. He managed a grin. He had to placate her somehow. “Yes,” he said, more softly. “We will do all this with the help of our Chinese friends. We will have Germany and we will help our Chinese allies in their domination of the world.”

Nick grinned at Sim Chan. “It looks like the old doublecross to me, baby. Your people will never get that drug. It’s going—”

Kerner drove his fist into Nick’s jaw with as much force as he could muster. He watched the man go down, his face hard and grim. He reached for the hypodermic needle, knelt by the stricken man and drove the needle into a vein in Nick’s arm. His thumb plunged the liquid from the tube and into the vein. He stood up, some of the fury leaving his body. “Soon well know if Agent Z has been perfected.” He clutched Sim Chan s arm, his fingers tightening in excitement.

“You’re hurting me,” Sim Chan gasped.

Kerner’s eyes bulged as he saw Nick stiffen. He knelt down, felt for a pulse beat “The man’s dead,” he gasped. “But it can’t be.”

Sim Chan remained calm. “Too much dosage.”

“No. I gave him very little. You saw.”

“Then the mixture isn’t right.” Sim Chan turned to the guards. “Get rid of him. Bury him outside the compound. Then remain outside this building. I don’t want anyone to enter.”

The two guards quickly obeyed Sim Chan’s orders.

Kerner waited till they had gone before turning to Sim Chan. “The guards obey you as if you were a field marshal.”

“Does that surprise you?” Her hands were hidden in the deep, wide pockets of her quilted robe.

“I’ve suspected for some time that you were here to spy on me,” Kerner said, his voice composed. “You even went so far as to become my mistress. I must confess I’ve enjoyed every moment of it. But as you can see, the suspicions of your comrades are without foundation.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

Walther Kerner raised his eyebrows. “So? You believe what that man said? Isn’t it obvious he was trying to turn you against me?”

“I heard you with my own ears. That drug isn’t meant for us, is it? You and your friends are only interested in taking over Germany. Perhaps the rest of the world, too. I won’t let you use us as pawns.”

Kerner licked his lower lip. Sim Chan knew too much. She was too dangerous to live. She could wreck all their plans. His hands were suddenly around her throat. First he felt the push of the knife against his belly. Then the air rushed in and he felt the pain. His hands came away and he looked down and saw the knife in her hand. She had hidden it in the pocket of her robe. He saw the blood oozing from the wound in his belly. His lips moved, and she struck again. And again. He felt himself falling. There was a red haze in front of his eyes. He knew he was dying. The pain was terrific but he couldn’t cry out. Then he died.

Sim Chan walked to the sink and washed the blood from the blade and wiped it on a cloth. The knife went back into her robe pocket. She knew what had to be done next. Confront Bormann. She wanted to kill him, but he was too important to her chief. There was always the chance that Kerner was acting on his own, but she doubted that.

She left the laboratory and went to her room, where she dressed. She used the phone on her writing table to order a car.

Chapter 12

“This white devil is heavy,” Lotus complained, one arm wrapped around Nick’s legs. “Let us stop for some tea and rice cakes.”

“A very good idea. Then we’ll borrow a car and drive him off to the village and have some of those peasants bury him for us. It isn’t right for a soldier to do manual labor.”

Lotus agreed with him, and they carried Nick’s body into the mess hall, where they parked him on a bench. “You sit down here and I’ll get the tea and cakes,” Lotus told her companion.

She went off, filled two mugs with tea, but didn’t find any rice cakes. She did find a sharp knife, which she hid in her uniform. She wasn’t going to risk a rifle shot and it would be just as great a risk to try to kill him with her rifle butt.

The first man she had killed had thought he was alone. She had been able to catch him off guard. It would be more difficult with this man, who knew he wasn’t alone. It took precious seconds to raise a rifle and bring the butt forward. But a short jab with the knife was quick and took half the time. That was the way she had thought it out.

She brought the cups of tea to the long wooden table and put them down. Her companion grumbled and asked for the rice cakes.

“I forgot,” she said. “Have your tea. I’ll get the cakes.”

He lifted the cup of tea and sipped.

She was behind him now. Out came the knife. She didn’t bother raising it She shoved it forward, the blade entering the middle of his back.

The cup fell from his hand. Tea ran down the table, soaking into the wood. Savage sounds came from his twisted mouth. He fell forward, the knife still in him. Blood poured from his mouth and mixed with the tea.

She put her arms under his armpits and dragged him to the closet, where he joined his dead comrade.

Lotus went to where Nick was stretched out, took out the pen, and used the antidote.

Nick opened his eyes and Lotus helped him sit up. She gave him her cup of tea and he drank it down gratefully.

“We can’t stay here,” she said urgently. “Someone may come in.”

Nick looked about. “How did I get here?”

“Let us go to the back, where we can talk.”

They went to the kitchen, and amid huge pans and pots and cold stoves she told him what had happened.

“So you substituted Store for Agent Z,” Nick said admiringly. “Good thinking.” Nick looked down at himself. “I need some clothes.” He was still in his shorts.

“I have two dead soldiers hidden away. But their uniforms are too small for you.”

“Wait a minute.” Nick examined some closets and found what was the equivalent of GI fatigues. He put them on, and though they were tight he could move about freely without ripping the seams. Lotus showed him the closet where she had stored the two dead guards. He took their rifles and sidearms.

“We don’t have much time,” he told Lotus. “It’ll be dawn soon. We have to act now.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked breathlessly. Hadn’t they been through enough? Wasn’t it time for some rest? She would think so. And yet this man was arming himself as if he were going to attack a fort or castle. Where did he get his energy? She had never seen anything like it before.

“I’m going to level that laboratory,” Nick said. “If I can’t blow it up I’ll burn it to the ground.”

“But how?”

“There’s enough inflammable material in that lab to start a holocaust.”

“You may be able to do it,” she reasoned. “We were supposed to guard the building after we buried you. It was the girl’s orders.” Her eyes widened. “But they’ll be there. Sim Chan and the German. What if you run into them?”

“That’s why I’m taking all the hardware. But first I have to knock out the electric-beam system. It’s probably centered in the building with the searchlights on its roof.”

Lotus shook her head. He was taking too many chances.

They walked to the front door and peered out. Most of the soldiers had gone to their barracks to catch up on their interrupted sleep. A few were milling about, exchanging gossip.

“Wait here till I come for you,” Nick whispered to Lotus. He gave her one of the pistols. “If you see anyone coming, just duck. Stay in the back somewhere. Plenty of dark corners back there.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

He walked out, keeping his head down, trying to make himself as small as possible. He had the pistol hidden in his fatigues and carried both rifles in one hand. He made it to the white building without being stopped. Then he was inside, and able to breathe easier. He made his way to the lab, where he found the dead body of Walther Kerner.

“So the thieves are falling out,” he muttered.

He looted the medicine cabinets for the chemicals he needed and within five minutes had a fire going. It was the type of fire that could never be put out. It would die out only when there was nothing left to burn. By that time the building would be a smoldering ash.

He was sweating now from the blazing flames.

He started out when he heard footsteps. Coming down the corridor was a thick-set man in a white jacket. He wore eyeglasses that were as thick as the bottoms of milk bottles. He was muttering in German. In his hand was a Luger.

Nick backed off, raising one of the rifles. The other was on the floor. The man stepped into the lab, saw the flames and Nick, and cried out something and aimed his Luger in Nick’s direction.

Nick fired, and the bullet caught the man in the left shoulder. The man stood his ground. He fired again.

Nick felt a sharp stab of pain in his left side. He fired twice, and the German dropped the Luger, clutched his belly, and fell forward. The flames were at Nick’s back. He didn’t bother picking up the second rifle but ran for the corridor. He jumped over the dead German’s prone body and raced down the corridor. At the other end, coming toward him, were Chinese guards. He fired his rifle till it was empty. Then he retreated. Back to the lab.

It was a raging inferno.

He picked up the dead German’s Luger. He couldn’t get the other rifle. The flames had engulfed it.

He had started the fire. He knew what it could do.

To his left was a doorway. That was the doorway Lotus had used when she had first found the lab. He made for it, stopped, turned, and got down on one knee, the Luger steady in his hand.

The guards poured into the lab, halted as the heat of the flames reached them. Then they saw Nick.

Nick made the Luger jump in his hand. The flames were now between him and the guards. He fired the last two bullets through the flames. Then, in an act of defiance, he threw the Luger at the remaining guards. He knew he had killed at least four of them.

He got up quickly and ran, his hand reaching inside his fatigues for the pistol he had taken from one of the guards Lotus had killed.

By some miracle the corridor was empty.

He was in the compound, amid chaos, confusion and screaming Chinese soldiers. Nobody seemed to notice him. One sergeant was trying to bring order out of chaos. He was telling the men to form bucket brigades.

Nick ran to the mess hall and found Lotus, watching the fire with excited eyes. “The roof is caving in,” she said, pointing.

Nick watched the roof of the building collapse. He gripped the girl’s shoulder. “This is the time to make a break. Even if we break the circuit of the electric eye beams we may still get away with it. The guards have too much on their minds to worry about any alarms.”

They walked slowly at first, skirting the mob of soldiers, then made a quick dash between two plaster poles. Nobody tried to stop them. They kept running till they were exhausted and then they dropped to the ground. Nick looked back and saw the fire still raging. It was orange and yellow against the hazy sky.

“Now what?” she asked.

“The man with the frozen face,” Nick said grimly.

Chapter 13

Bormann was cradling the phone when Captain Stryker knocked urgently on his door. “Come in,” he barked. Stryker walked in, his face florid. “Sim Chan is here. She insists on seeing you. I don’t like the look of it She has blood in her eye.”

“Too early in the morning to be melodramatic,” Bormann growled. “Where is she?”

“In your office. I told her to wait there.”

“Let me get dressed. Tell her I’ll be with her shortly.” Bormann watched Stryker leave, then started to dress. He had just received word that the laboratory was no more. Burned to the ground. Stryker would have to know sooner or later. But how would the man react? Would he stick with him or desert?

He strapped a wide leather belt with a holster about his waist He made sure his Luger was loaded and went out.

With the laboratory gone, work on Agent Z would have to start all over again, from the very beginning. He wondered why Kerner hadn’t called himself. The caller had been rather vague. There had been something about a white man attempting to invade the compound, of being captured, and then being put to death. Shortly after that, the laboratory had caught fire. The caller had been one of the Chinese officers assigned to the compound.

Bormann walked into his office to find Sim Chan sitting calmly in a leather-backed chair, her legs crossed, smoking a cigarette. She had on a short leather jacket over a tight-fitting dress. He bowed stiffly and sat down behind his desk.

Sim Chan looked with distaste at the masklike face. “My thought, as I drove to Peking from the laboratory, was to confront you with your treachery, Herr Bormann, and loll you.” She let her cigarette drop, and ground it out with the sole of her shoe. Her right hand slipped into the pocket of her leather jacket.

“Treachery?”

Was the man mocking her? “Yes, treachery,” she hissed. “You have no intention of turning Agent Z over to my people.”

“Where did you learn this nonsense?”

“From Kerner himself. He gave himself away.” Then she smirked. “It was just before I killed him.”

Bormann s back grew rigid as plaster. “Walther Kerner is dead? Then Agent Z has died with him.”

“What are you talking about?” she snapped.

“The laboratory has burned to the ground,” he informed the Chinese girl. “It is no more. No laboratory, no papers, no Agent Z.”

“The formulas we used are in my head,” she said.

Bormann stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Just who are you, Sim Chan?”

“Are you that stupid?” she spat. “I am an Intelligence agent as well as a scientist. I became Kerner’s mistress only to keep an eye on him.”

Bormann seemed to relax on the swivel chair. “Then we have need for each other, Sim Chan. You are wrong about me. Perhaps Kerner had his own ideas about Agent Z. I don’t know. I never tried to crawl into his mind to find out what he was thinking. I, too, believed he was loyal to our cause. If he betrayed you, he also betrayed me.”

“You are too clever, Herr Bormann.” Sim Chan studied the man with thoughtful eyes. “You may be telling the truth, but I doubt it. Time will tell.”

“We must trust each other if we are to accomplish our main objective,” he told her patronizingly. “You are an intelligent woman. If we fight each other we accomplish nothing except, perhaps, our own destruction.” He took a cigarette from an ivory box on his desk and lit it with a heavy silver lighter. “Who was this white man who was captured last night?”

“An American. He didn’t give his name. We used Agent Z on him for experimental purposes, and he died. There is still something wrong with the formula. Before Kerner injected the American with Agent Z he gave out with a pretty speech about how he and his German friends were going to take over Germany. When the American’s body was taken away, I confronted Kerner. The fool tried to kill me, thinking all women are weak. It was he who ended up dead.”

“You know nothing of the fire?”

“No, nothing. I ordered my car and drove here to... talk to you.”

“That fire couldn’t have been an accident,” Bormann decided. “It had to be the American.”

“He was dead,” Sim Chan insisted.

“Was he?” Bormann spewed out blue-gray smoke. “Describe the American.”

Sim Chan described the man she and Kerner had used the drug on, and Bormann was convinced it was Nick Carter.

“Whoever he was,” Sim Chan argued, “he’s now dead.”

“It wasn’t his ghost who burned the laboratory to the ground,” Bormann said patiently.

Sim Chan stubbornly stuck to her guns. Hadn’t she herself seen the American die? He couldn’t have faked the death. Bormann had to be wrong. Well, if he was going to insist that dead men could live and start fires, she certainly wasn’t going to argue with him. She had always questioned the man’s sanity. She knew that there had been plastic surgery done on his face. She knew that his hands were not hands but stainless-steel claws. No man could go through all that and still keep his sanity. She knew about humoring the insane. Well, she would humor this man who was so sure of himself. He was supposed to be an ally of her people, but she doubted this very much. She was used to playing games in her chosen profession. She knew that Bormann couldn’t touch her. With Kerner dead only she could start the experiments again to perfect Agent Z.

“You chase your Nick Carter,” she said. “It is your problem, not mine.”

Bormann nodded his head in agreement. “Yes. Let me worry about Carter. We’ll find a new location for the lab, but it doesn’t pay to start the experiments again till Carter is dead.”

“And what do I do till then?” she asked with sarcasm. “Twiddle my thumbs?”

“You may remain here as my guest,” he invited graciously.

Sim Chan agreed that would be a good idea. “That way we can keep an eye on each other.”

Bormann met Captain Stryker in the courtyard. He told Stryker about the laboratory being burned to ashes and of the death of Walther Kerner. He saw the look of despair on Stryker’s face and quickly added that Sim Chan would be able to perfect Agent Z.

“But when?” Stryker asked.

“Nothing can be done till Carter is dead. It had to be Carter who set fire to the laboratory. I want you to go to Tsin Then and find out what you can. He may have gotten help from the villagers, but I doubt it. See what you can find out Visit the compound, talk to the soldiers there. Somebody must have seen something.”

“I’ll go at once.”

“What about the guards who were on duty the night Carter slipped through and killed two of our men? Have you found out anything?”

“Not yet. I have three of our men still working at it.”

“Good. And phone me once you find out anything.”

Stryker heeled about and took off.

Things were going badly, Bormann knew. He had been so close, so damn close, and then Carter had showed up. With Kerner gone, things would be difficult He knew Sim Chan didn’t trust him. But she was his only hope. Once Agent Z was perfected he would kill her and then leave China as quickly as possible.

But Carter was his first concern. Where the devil was the man?

Chapter 14

Nick had been ready to go back to Peking when Lotus discovered he had been shot in the side. Nick explained that it was only a crease. She had made him wait in the car while she went to the village for bandages and medicine. Nick’s protests had been in vain.

It was dawn when she had returned, and they had decided to stay there till nightfall. She bandaged him neatly, like a professional nurse.

He tucked his shirt inside his pants. The sun was overhead, hot and yellow. “Don’t tell me nobody’s suspicious.”

“The village doctor supplied the medicine and bandages. I gave him all our cigarettes. He didn’t ask questions.”

“You trust him?”

“No,” she said simply. “But there wasn’t much choice. I didn’t want you to get an infection.”

“We can’t stay here,” Nick told her. “When the boys at the compound find those two bodies in the mess hall they’ll start thinking and this whole countryside will be crawling with soldiers.”

“You agreed that we can’t travel by daylight. We have to stay here till it gets dark.”

“Too dangerous. If they question the doctor, and he talks, we’re in for it.”

Lotus saw the sense to his reasoning, but they were well hidden here in the foliage. Unless Nick wanted to stay in the village.

“That family you know. What can you offer them? We have no more money.”

“They don’t like the Germans. I can tell them the Germans are after us.”

“You’re grasping at straws.”

She shrugged and told him she was leaving it up to him.

Nick checked guns and ammunition. There were two pistols and a rifle. The rifle had six bullets in it. One of the pistols was fully loaded. The other had three cartridges in the clip. They weren’t exactly a two-man army. “How do I sneak in if your friends say it’s okay?” he wanted to know.

“The people will be in the rice paddies. They all work there except the very old and the young children. I’ll talk to them. They won’t say yes unless they mean it. They are honorable.”

“If they tell the others—”

“They won’t,” she insisted. Before he could say anything else she turned and ran. He grinned after her.

It was late afternoon when Captain Stryker called Bormann from the compound. Two guards had been found dead in a closet in the mess hall. He was organizing a search party.

“Did you find out anything about the man who was captured?” Bormann asked.

“He was wearing a black costume. Probably used it to get into the Imperial Palace.”

“Very clever,” Bormann said dryly.

“Some of the men saw his body carried out of the laboratory. But two guards claim they saw him later in the laboratory while it was still burning. Those two were badly burned and are in the infirmary. They were lucky. Their comrades were killed, shot to death by the man.”

“Carter must be back in Peking,” Bormann said. “He wouldn’t be fool enough to stay there, not after he accomplished what he set out to do.”

“Shall I discontinue the search?”

“I will leave that to your own discretion, Captain Stryker.”

Stryker heard the click and knew Bormann had hung up. He replaced the receiver in its cradle. Bormann believed the man was back in Peking, but there was always the chance he was hidden somewhere, trying to get his strength back. The man must be exhausted from all the chaos he had created. Now where would he be if he was still in the vicinity? There was always the village of Tsin Then. It would be foolhardy for a normal man to attempt to hide in the village, but this was not a normal man.

He could stop in the village for a quick investigation before going on to Peking. No need to bring any of the Chinese troopers with him. If he did find Carter, he was sure he could handle him alone. He wouldn’t be asleep like the Germans whom Carter had killed in their beds. Kerner was more a scientist than a soldier. And the Chinese troopers were a stupid bunch. No, Stryker was no boy. He was a professional soldier. He was more than a match for that idiot American. Maybe Bormann was afraid of him. But not Stryker. No, indeed.

Stryker left the little makeshift office and got into his car. He signaled to a guard framed in the doorway of one of the two remaining buildings. The guard went inside to cut the electric beam. Stryker drove out of the compound.

It would be quite a feather in his cap to kill this man Carter. He knew how Carter plagued Bormann. It would be quite a feat to accomplish what Bormann had never been able to do.

Lotus and Nick sat on beds of straw, their backs against the wall of the thatched hut. They had just finished eating and their stomachs were full and satisfied.

“I feel grimy,” Nick confessed. “Wish I could take a bath.”

“There is a stream nearby. But it would be dangerous to go there now. We’re lucky no one saw us come in.” She reached inside her pocket and took out a piece of jade. “This is where our luck came from.”

“What’s that?”

“The jade I took from my father’s dead body,” she reminded him.

“You’ve been carrying it with you?”

“Yes. I hope it will bring me better luck than it did my father. We Chinese are superstitious, aren’t we?”

“No more so than most people.”

Lotus suddenly cocked her head. “I hear a car.”

Nick scrambled to his feet. He peered out the doorway. The car was coming toward the village over an open field. There was one lone occupant. Lotus was beside Nick. She drew in her breath sharply. “It’s Captain Stryker.” Her fingers, like steel claws, pressed against Nick’s arm. “I told you about him. He is brutal.”

There were some old villagers outside their huts; they ignored the car.

Stryker braked and got out. He drew his Luger and started a systematic search of the huts, from left to right.

Lotus huddled against the wall of the hut while Nick flattened himself against the wall near the doorway. He had one pistol in his belt, but he didn’t want to shoot Stryker; he didn’t want the villagers in the rice paddies to hear the shot.

When Stryker entered the hut, his Luger protruded at least two feet in front of him. Nick chopped at the gun wrist and the Luger dropped. Stryker ignored the pain of his wrist and plunged his left fist into Nick’s face. Nick rolled with the punch. He dropped to both knees, wrapped his hands around Stryker’s ankles, and pulled. Stryker fell backward. Nick was on him, his knee digging in the pit of the German’s stomach, his fingers around Stryker’s neck. Stryker pushed Nick’s head away, using the heel of his palm.

Nick had to let go of Stryker’s neck or his own neck would have been broken.

Nick jumped to his feet as Stryker lunged at him. Nick sidestepped, turned swiftly, wrapped an arm around Stryker’s neck. Stryker’s back was against Nick’s front Nick kept his legs wide apart so that Stryker couldn’t heel his shins. Stryker tried to flip Nick over his shoulder, but his strength was fading fast. Nick’s arm was pressing against his windpipe, choking off the oxygen to his brain.

Nick bared his teeth as he felt the man start to slump. He didn’t let go till he was sure there was no chance of Stryker still being alive. Then his arm came away and the German folded like a rag doll with the sawdust running out.

Nick knelt and started to strip the man.

“What are you doing?” Lotus asked.

“We’re about the same size,” Nick said. “I’m taking his uniform and his car. It’ll be safer than the Packard.”

“We can’t leave his body here.”

“We won’t. We’ll leave him in some ditch.” Nick added the Luger to his collection. He put on Stryker’s uniform and found it just right.

“When will we leave?”

“Soon. But we’ll go nice and slow. I don’t want to get to Peking till it’s dark. Well stop along the way at some village or farmhouse and have a good dinner.” He showed her the money he had taken from Captain Stryker’s body. “Bormann pays his men well. Nothing too good for the master race.”

Chapter 15

The guard was shot dead on Bormann s orders. Sim Chan didn’t interfere; she just wanted to know why.

In his office, his hip on the edge of the desk, one leg dangling, Bormann explained that the guard had left his post to be with a prostitute named Lotus the night the AXE agent. Carter, had slipped into the Imperial Palace to murder two of his men. The man had finally broken under pressure. Bormann had life-and-death control over the guards under him; it was part of his agreement with the ChiComs.

Sim Chan shrugged her slender shoulders. She had on black slacks, a white blouse, and a short alpaca jacket with wide pockets. She liked wide pockets — a good place to conceal a gun. “I am indifferent to the guard’s death. I was only curious.”

“I have put in a call to the Peking police to find where this Lotus lives. When I have their reply I will personally question her. I don’t trust anyone to get Carter except myself.”

Sim Chan lifted her eyebrows mockingly. “Are you afraid if I meet him again he may convince me of your treachery?”

Bormann scowled. Mentally, he swore he would kill Sim Chan himself once she perfected Agent Z. She kept rubbing him the wrong way, taunting him, mocking him. “It’s a personal matter,” he said gruffly. “This isn’t the first time he has interfered with me. So your snide remarks are wasted. My hide is tough as leather.”

“Not tough enough to stop a bullet,” she jeered.

He was about to retort when the phone rang. He listened carefully and then hung up.

“You look pleased with yourself,” Sim Chan said. “Was it good news, Herr Bormann?”

“Better than I expected. I have the girl’s address. The police added a bit of information they thought would interest me. You know, of course, that I had had a man who was a contact for the Americans slain. He owned a curio shop. It seems that he had a daughter named Lotus, and there was a rift between them because she became a prostitute.”

“So this Lotus has reasons for helping Nick Carter,” Sim Chan mused. “If Agent Z couldn’t kill Carter, maybe one of my bullets can.”

“I must insist you don’t interfere,” Bormann snapped. He checked his Luger, put an extra clip in his jacket pocket, and stalked out.

Sim Chan waited a full minute before she casually walked out of his office...

Martin Bormann found Captain Maximilian Able in the bedroom closet of Lotus’s apartment. The man had been missing for two days. Bormann assumed he had been dead all this time. It was stifling in the closet and yet there was no stench from the body. He was puzzled.

He heard the front door open and close, and drew his Luger. There were voices. A man’s and a woman’s.

He moved and he stood framed in the doorway, his Luger covering Nick Carter and Lotus.

Lotus gasped as she saw him. Nick raised his hands slowly. He was almost tempted to try for the gun in his belt, but that would have gotten him nowhere. He would have been gunned down before he could even touch metal. His hands were shoulder high.

“We meet again, Carter,” Bormann said.

“Funny how we keep bumping into each other,” Nick said lightly. “It’s as if the gods decreed it.”

“But this is the last time, Carter. Our very last meeting. When I leave here, you’ll be very dead.”

“That’s up to the gods,” Nick said. He motioned his head toward Lotus. “Why don’t you let her go? She can’t harm you.”

“She knows too much. Besides, she helped you. You almost ruined my plans, Carter.”

“Almost?”

“No doubt you know that Kerner is dead. And you took care of the laboratory. But I still have Sim Chan. She will provide me with Agent Z. And then, Carter, I will be the new fuehrer of Germany. That will be the first step. With the help of those stupid Chinese Communists I will—” Bormann abruptly stopped and his eyes widened, staring past Nick’s shoulder. His finger started to tighten on the trigger.

Nick quickly craned his neck, saw Sim Chan in the front doorway, a gun in her hand. He shoved Lotus out of the path of fire and dived for the floor. Sim Chan and Bormann fired simultaneously, both shots sounding as one.

Nick and Lotus scrambled behind the sofa. Nick drew the gun from his belt and peered around the arm of the sofa.

Sim Chan was on her knees, blood oozing from her chest She still held the gun. She was trying to fire another round when Bormann sent a bullet spinning into her brain. She crumpled to the floor. There was blood coming from Bormann’s shoulder. He had been hit. He turned, saw Nick aiming at him, dropped to one knee, and fired.

Nick pulled his head back. The bullet almost grazed his cheek.

Lotus moved to the other side of the sofa, a gun in her hand. This was her chance to avenge her father’s death. She knew that the man with the frozen face had ordered her father’s assassination. She quickly jumped to her feet, exposing herself, and fired at the hated enemy.

Bormann howled in pain, shifted his Luger, and fired twice.

Behind him, Nick heard Lotus cry out in pain. He darted to his feet in time to see Bormann heading into the bedroom. Nick went after him.

Bormann was jumping out the window when Nick fired point-blank. He ran to the window, saw Bormann racing across the street He fired again and again. Why didn’t the man fall? Bormann was gone, swallowed up by the night.

Bormann had been hit at least three times, and yet he had kept going. Nick cursed silently. Sheer willpower. The man was made of iron. But the bullet in the back had to finish him. Probably crawl into a hole and die, Nick thought. He couldn’t live after that.

But Bormann wasn’t human. Yet he was made of flesh and blood.

“He has to die,” Nick screamed into the night. He went back into the front room and found Lotus behind the sofa, her eyes open and peaceful in death.

“I don’t want to leave you like this,” he said to the dead girl, “but I have to.” He bent and kissed her forehead.

It was time to leave. He got to his feet.

The police would find two dead Chinese girls in the apartment, and a German in the bedroom closet. It would give them something to think about.

Nick looked at Lotus once more and then left.

The Tulip Affair

Dedicated to The Men of the Secret Services of the United States of America

Chapter 1

Mark Harrison shoved his suitcase into the back of the taxi and got in. “You speak English?”

The Thai driver turned his head and nodded, showing crooked teeth. “Yes, sir. Very good. Where you go?”

“Fifty-six Suriwongse Road. That’s the Metropole Hotel.”

“Yes, yes. I take you.”

The taxi started with a jerk and then it rolled away from the curb. Harrison turned to stare out the rear window at the airport. A man was pointing to the cab he was in and talking excitedly to the driver of a blue sedan. The man got in and the sedan roared into life.

Harrison frowned and turned to face the driver. He had to be imagining things. No one knew he was in Thailand except Hawk and Tulip. Well, Harrison had been in Bangkok before and knew his way around. He said to the driver, “Turn into Dindang Road.”

The driver nodded his head and did as he was told. Under Harrison’s directions, the driver shot into Petburi Road next and then turned left at Chakapong. He drove past the Temple of the Emerald Buddha. Harrison looked back. The sedan was no longer in sight He told the driver to head for the Metropole and then leaned back and lit a cigarette.

Mark Harrison was thirty-four, with sand-colored hair and a craggy face. He had a good athletic body which he always kept in trim.

His hotel room was on the seventh floor. He unpacked, put away his things, and examined the Ruger nine-shot automatic. It was in excellent working order. He then used the phone to call the number Tulip had given him.

“Yes?” The voice was-male, gruff, almost metallic.

“Tulip sends his regards.”

“Oh, yes. And how was your trip?”

“Fine. I had some company before.”

“We can’t talk over the phone. Can you come over?”

“Sure. Where are you?”

The voice over the phone gave directions. Then there was a click, and the line was dead.

Mark Harrison thoughtfully replaced the receiver in its cradle. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit.

The Ruger automatic went into the holster under his left armpit. He went down, found a waiting taxi at the corner, and had the driver take him to a small house on Pahurat Road.

He paid the driver, walked to the front door, and found a black bar set in the jamb. He thumbed it. Presently the door opened, and a burly man in a Chinese-red kimono admitted him.

The front room was spacious, with thick carpets, blond wood furniture and Chinese silk prints on the walls.

“Sit down,” the burly man said. “Make yourself at home. Want a drink?”

“Gin and bitters, if you have it.”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.”

Harrison seated himself in a club chair and looked about. The burly man just didn’t fit in these surroundings. But in this business one had to expect the unexpected.

The burly man came back with two drinks and handed Harrison one. He sat down and seemed to study the AXE agent “You say you were followed?” the man said.

Harrison nodded. He sipped his drink.

“Just doesn’t seem possible.”

“By the way,” Harrison said, “you do have a name, I hope?”

“Carpenter. Rudy Carpenter.”

“Tulip didn’t tell me much. Just gave me your number to call. He said you would set things up for me.”

“Yes.” Carpenter looked amused. “I get you information for you to pass on to your people.”

Harrison drank a third of his gin and bitters. “You seem to think that’s funny.”

“I suppose you’re armed?”

Harrison’s eyes narrowed. There was something definitely wrong here, and he was finding it hard to think. There was a dull ache in the back of his skull.

Rudy Carpenter got to his feet. “I added something to your drink, Mr. Harrison. You can try for your gun but you’ll never make it. Yes, you were followed from the airport. By my men. But you managed to shake them, didn’t you? It doesn’t matter. I knew you would call me.” He walked to the club chair where Harrison was slumped. He wondered if the dead man had heard his last sentences. He lifted his head and bellowed, “Shigeta.”

A sharp-featured Japanese walked in, carrying a cloth sack. He was dressed in a business suit.

“Remove all identification,” Carpenter ordered. “You know what else to do.” The burly man walked out.

Shigeta took everything out of the dead man’s pockets and then tore the label from inside the jacket He removed a gold watch and a signet ring from the late Mark Harrison.

Then Shigeta made a phone call.

He smoked three cigarettes while waiting. It was dark when he heard a car stop outside. There were footsteps, and Shigeta peered out the window. He opened the door and another Japanese walked in. Shigeta spoke rapidly to the man and then walked into another room and returned with lead weights.

They put the body and the weights into the cloth sack. A heavy cord tied around the mouth of the sack made the body secure.

They opened the door, made sure the street was deserted, and carried the body out to the car. Shigeta stayed in back with the body while his companion drove to the dock where the body was put in a small sampan. A grinning middle-aged woman rowed them out to where the water was deep.

The two Japanese tossed the body overboard and watched it sink in the Chao Phraya River.

The woman rowed them back to the dock. Shigeta gave her 200 baht. The woman put her money away, bowed, smiled, said, “Sawaddee.”

Shigeta and his companion made their way to the car and drove off.

Chapter 2

Kris Bancroft had a Swedish mother and an English father. Her Nordic features were inherited from her mother, who was still a beautiful woman. Kris poised at the edge of the diving board; then, with the grace of a swan, sailed through the air and cut the water sharply. Her head, encased in a Latex swimming cap, bobbed to the surface of the water. She swam to the lip of the pool, shifted her body out of the water, and lay back on the concrete deck.

Kris was thirty-one, a widow, with the firm body of a twenty-year-old girl. Her teeth were white and even, her lips full and red. She had a perfect body with firm, rounded promontories that poked out the upper half of her two-piece swimsuit. Her thighs were rounded and deeply tanned.

Kris sat up when she saw the tall, bronzed giant approaching with two Stingers. She took off her cap and ran her ringers through her blonde tresses. She studied the man in the quilted robe, and her thoughts went back to last night when she had spent those heavenly hours in his arms. She had never before been so thrilled by a man’s lovemaking.

The man sank down onto his haunches and gave her one of the Stingers. “I saw you dive. I’m impressed.”

“I’m glad I impress you,” she said, putting extra warmth in her voice. “You did a very good job of impressing me — last night.”

“It took me two solid days to talk you into bed,” he reminded her with a crooked grin on his tanned face.

“I’m sorry now I waited so long.”

The bantering went on for a while till a bellboy interrupted them. “There’s a call for you, Mr. Carter. You can take it in the bar.”

Nick excused himself, followed the boy into the bar, and picked up the receiver.

“How’s the vacation coming along?”

Nick Carter recognized Hawk’s familiar voice. “Something tells me this vacation is coming to an abrupt end.”

“Can’t be helped. Try to be back by this evening. I’ll be staying late.”

“Will do.” Nick hung up and walked back to the swimming-pool area. Kris had moved to a beach chair, her long legs stretched out, twin columns of perfection.

“You’ve got beautiful legs,” Nick said. “I wish I could stay and admire them forever but I’ll be leaving soon.”

Kris reached out to touch his arm. “Isn’t there anything that will induce you to stay?”

Nick shook his head gently. “I’m may be back.”

“And I may not be here.”

Nick hated goodbyes. He always felt awkward. He proposed they have a last drink together, and Kris agreed.

She watched him walk away to the tap room. She knew it would be a long time before she found someone like him — if ever.

Hawk looked tired, more tired than usual. He motioned Nick to the chair in front of his desk and the tall, broad-shouldered man sat down. Hawk got right to the point. “About a month ago I sent out three agents for the express purpose of filtering information back about ChiCom movements in the Far East Norwich in Singapore, Bennet in Hanoi, and Harrison in Bangkok. This morning Harold Rustoff of CIA paid me a visit with some startling news. All the info I got, and which I passed on to Rustoff, has been false.”

Nick’s face and voice were emotionless. “You think they were caught?”

Hawk shrugged. “I don’t think they even got started.”

“Then they were sold out,” Nick said.

“And enemy agents took their places.” Hawk toyed with a yellow pencil. “Has to be. No other explanation. They didn’t sell out and go over to the other side. Not all three at the same time. Perhaps one, maybe, but all three? Nope.” Hawk looked at Nick with grim eyes. “They went through the Hong Kong contact.”

“Tulip.” Nick lit a gold-tipped cigarette. “I can’t see Tulip selling out, either.”

“You and Tulip are rather close.”

Nick didn’t answer.

“All right,” Hawk said. “It’s your baby. Go to Bangkok and find out what you can. If Tulip turned double...” Hawk left it unsaid.

“What about Singapore and Hanoi?”

“You just worry about Bangkok. I’m more interested in the traitor. I’ll give odds it’s Tulip.”

Nick got to his feet. Hawk had to be right about Tulip. Everything pointed to Tulip. Three AXE agents, and Tulip had thrown them to the wolves. But Nick wanted to be sure. He liked Tulip. He and Tulip were friends.

“I want to give Tulip every chance,” Nick said.

Hawk nodded his head. “I understand. That’s why I’m sending you to Bangkok first.”

The Thai people originated in Southeast China, where they founded the independent Kingdom of Nanchao in 650 a.d. In 1243 they were driven out by the armies of Kublai Khan and moved south to what is known today as Thailand.

Nick’s plane landed at Don Muang Airport late in the afternoon. He showed his passport, his visa, and his International Certificate of Health, and passed through.

Nick had his stiletto in its sheath strapped around his arm, and his Luger was in the false bottom of his suitcase.

A taxi took him to the Royal Hotel on Rajadamnern Avenue. He registered, and a bellboy, carrying his suitcase, led the way to his room on the third floor. He tipped the boy 100 satangs and closed the door after him.

Nick took the Luger out of the false bottom of his suitcase, put it under his pillow, took off his shoes, and sprawled out on the bed. When it was dark he woke and went into the bathroom, where he undressed and showered. He put on fresh underwear, fresh socks, and the suit he had worn. With his stiletto Hugo and Luger Wilhelmina for company, he went out.

Nick didn’t like typical Thai food because it was highly spiced. He found an Italian restaurant and ate. He drank a glass of sherry, paid the bill, and continued on his way.

The man who had taken Harrison’s place had to be at the Metropole. He would have to stay there to receive Hawk’s communications.

Nick walked up the seven flights, made his way to the right room, used the lockpicker’s special, drew out Hugo, and slipped inside.

The rooms were dark.

He made sure no one was home before he turned on the lights. He searched through everything. He found a Ruger nine-shot automatic, a gun Harrison favored. But there were cold cigar butts in trays, and Harrison didn’t smoke cigars. The clothes weren’t Harrison’s. He found a stainless-steel watch of Russian make in a bureau drawer.

Nick turned out the lights, sank into a club chair and waited. He didn’t smoke a cigarette, even though he wanted one. He was like a statue, sitting in the club chair, hardly a muscle moving.

Every so often he would look at the luminous dial of his watch. Then he stopped doing that.

The sound of metal against metal reached him. He stiffened slightly, then forced himself to relax. The key turned the lock, the door opened, the lights came on, and the door closed.

Nick came out of the chair in a half turn, the Luger in his hand. The man was slightly bald, thin, wearing a pin-stripe suit. He was over forty. He seemed stunned at first at sight of Nick, and then he smiled. “You... uh... have made a mistake, my friend.” He spoke English with an East European accent. “I am not rich. You may search—”

“Are you Mr. Harrison?” Nick asked softly.

“Harrison?” The man’s eyes darted from Nick’s face to Wilhelmina and back to Nick’s face. “Mr. Harrison is away. On business. He will be back shortly. I will give him your message.”

Nick motioned with the Luger. “Into the bedroom.”

“If I scream...”

“You won’t,” Nick said. “I’ll kill you, and you know it.”

The man licked his lower lip. He looked from Nick to the door as if debating his chances. He knew his chances to get away were no good. He went into the bedroom, Nick behind him.

Nick told the man to sit on the bed.

The man sat. There was fear etched on his face. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Tie you up like a Christmas package.”

Fear made his voice strained. “You’re going to torture me. I... I can’t stand torture. I can’t tell you anything. I don’t know anything. You have to believe me.”

“Sure. Now lie back.”

“No.” The man opened his mouth to scream and Nick slammed the gun barrel against the man’s head.

When the man regained consciousness, he was tied and gagged. Fear made his eyes round as an owl’s. His shirt and undershirt had been ripped down to his belt, exposing his thin, naked chest.

Ruthlessly, Nick used Hugo till there was a red bloody pattern of crisscrossing lines on the man’s chest. He never went deep, just deep enough to draw blood and inflict pain.

“I’m going to take off your gag,” Nick said. “If you yell, I’ll cut your throat.”

Weakly, the man nodded his head.

Nick removed the gag.

“A doctor,” the man whispered. “Get me a doctor.”

“Sure,” Nick said, “but not right now. You’ll answer my questions first. If I suspect you’re lying, you won’t need a doctor. Understand?”

“Yes. Please, can I have water?”

“No. Now listen.” Nick sat on the bed. “I want to know about Mark Harrison.”

“He... is dead.”

“What happened?”

“Rudy killed him. Poison.”

“Rudy?”

“Rudy Carpenter.”

“Who is he?”

“Albanian, I think He works for the Chinese. The Reds.”

“What happened to Harrison’s body?”

“In the river. Rudy’s Japanese man, Shigeta, disposed of the body. Please. I need a doctor.”

“Where do I find Rudy?”

The man told Nick and then pleaded again for a doctor.

“How did Rudy know about Harrison?” Nick asked.

“I... I don’t know.”

“That’s a lie,” Nick said harshly. He placed the steel point of the stiletto against the man’s neck. “Haven’t you had enough?”

“We got to one of your men. Tulip. In Hong Kong.”

“What happened to our men in Hanoi and Singapore?” It was a rhetorical question. Nick already knew the answer.

“Same thing.”

Nick stood up, his eyes cold. He used Hugo again. Quickly. One quick thrust, and there was a gurgle and a tiny fountain of blood.

Nick wiped Hugo clean and put him back in the sheath.

He washed his hands in the bathroom and left.

Chapter 3

It was somewhere between midnight and one. A full yellow moon decorated the night sky with a thousand stars as ornaments.

Nick circled the house, looking for some sign of life. There wasn’t a light to be seen. He approached the house from the back, crossed over the grass apron, and found the back door.

He used the lockpicker’s special, opened the door slowly, silently, tiptoed inside. He closed the door behind him, stood and waited for his eyes to become accustomed to the dark. Then he started to prowl.

He opened a door and walked in. He heard noise under his feet. He was walking on crumpled-up newspaper.

The moonlight on the bed showed the rising figure. Nick leaped, Hugo ready, upon the bed. The stiletto flashed in the silver moonlight and there was an anguished cry. Nick slid off the bed, searched for the light switch, and flicked it. He discovered the body on the bed to be Japanese.

“Shigeta. Shigeta.”

Nick’s back was rigid as plaster. He heard the footsteps approaching. He flicked off the lights and waited.

The door opened and a bulky figure crystalized in the doorway. “Shigeta!” The lights came on. The burly man stood there, his eyes on Nick.

Nick had made a mistake. Perhaps fatal. He had Hugo ready, but the burly man, dressed in white cotton pajamas, had a snub-nosed revolver in his hand.

“You will please drop that knife,” Rudy Carpenter said.

Nick let Hugo drop. He elevated his hands.

Rudy Carpenter glanced at the blood-stained figure on the bed. He stepped to one side. “You will please move. Into the other room.”

Nick walked into the front room.

“Now stand perfectly still.”

The burly man stood behind Nick and used his left hand to search the intruder. He found the Luger. “Now you may sit.”

Nick sat in the club chair.

“You killed my servant,” Rudy Carpenter said. “You are not an ordinary burglar, are you? Perhaps not even a burglar. No, I think not. Who are you?”

“Do you know how many people ask me that question?” Nick said. “Millions of people. They even stop me on the street and say ‘Who are you?’ I’ve stopped wondering why they ask me. I suppose there must be a reason. Now I have a stock answer. None of your damn business. I know I’m being ill-mannered but I can’t help it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the burly man said. “It’s obvious you came here to kill me. As you Americans say, the cover is blown. But how did you find me?”

“Does it matter?”

Rudy Carpenter was thoughtful for a minute. “Of course. Capjuhn. The man who took Harrison’s place. You got to him. Is he dead?”

“Funny you should ask that He told me he didn’t want to die alone, so I promised him he would have company.”

“You take your situation very lightly, my friend.” Carpenter backed off to a table on which stood two bottles and several tall glasses. He picked up a bottle, tilted it, and an amber-colored liquid poured into a glass. He picked up the glass and brought it over to Nick. “I offer you a last drink. I harbor no grudge.”

Nick took it. “Aren’t you joining me?”

Without waiting for an answer, Nick flung the contents of the glass into Carpenter’s face. His left hand closed over the gun wrist as Carpenter fired. Nick bounced out of the chair, hooked his right leg around the burly man’s left leg, and pushed.

They fell heavily to the floor. Carpenter was still blinded by the whisky. Instinct made him fight back with the ferociousness of a trapped rat. He jabbed repeatedly at the back of Nick’s neck with his left fist while trying to twist his gun wrist from Nick’s steel-like fingers.

Nick drove his knee deep in Carpenter’s groin and the man bellowed with pain. Nick shifted his body slightly so that his face was over the gun wrist He bit Carpenter’s wrist, and the gun fell from the man’s hand. “Rather unorthodox, I admit,” Nick grunted, gathering up the snub-nosed revolver. He swung at Carpenter’s head twice, and the man went limp.

Nick got to his feet, picked up the bottle of amber liquid, held it to his nose. There was a faint odor of burnt almonds, mixed with the fumes of whisky. Cyanide of potassium.

Nick knelt by Carpenter’s side. With one hand he lifted the man’s head; with the other he forced the neck of the bottle into the man’s mouth. Carpenter sputtered and his eyes opened. He saw the bottle in Nick’s hand and horror made his eyes round.

Nick stood up and watched Carpenter die.

Chapter 4

It was a side street just off Queen’s Road. A man reading the Hong Kong News was leaning against the building. He was a Chinese, dressed in western-style clothes. Nick went into the building, walked up one flight He rang and there was no answer.

He picked the lock and went inside.

It was a nicely furnished apartment with Oriental doodads all over the place. There was a combination cocktail table and bar. There were liquor stains on the surface. Nick went through the apartment and found no one. Not even a body.

In the bedroom, under the bed, was a metal locker that contained a small arsenal for emergencies. Nick drew it out and checked. Four guns were missing from their beds. Tulip had armed himself and run.

Tulip had got the wind up.

Nick checked the closets. There were expensive suits hanging from wire hangers. He checked dresser drawers. Silk shirts, silk underwear, silk ties. Tulip hadn’t taken much. Probably just the clothes on his back. Tulip was running light, not wanting to be hampered by luggage.

Nick rubbed his fingers over his jawbone.

There was nothing here that could help him. He left the apartment, lighting a cigarette. Outside he started walking toward Queen’s Road. The sunlight was the color of melted butter. Behind him he heard a car pick up speed. He turned to see a man leaning out the window, holding a Sten machine gun. Behind the wheel was a grim-faced man. It was Tulip.

Nick headed for the pavement, scraped the side of his face.

The burst from the machine gun sounded like a stick trailing rapidly along a picket fence.

Nick had Wilhelmina out and returned the fire.

The man with the machine gun ducked inside the car as it rounded the corner and sped up Queen’s Road.

Nick got to his feet and holstered the Luger. He was sure he had hit the man with the Sten. It was the Chinese who was reading the Hong Kong News when he had gone into the building.

Nick walked hurriedly away from the scene, and behind him a crowd was gathering. He had no wish to explain things to the Hong Kong police. After all, they had their own problems, and he didn’t want to add his own.

She had the face of an Asiatic doll: fragile and serene. Lilac mascara shadowed her eyes, her eyebrows were raven curves, her lips were strawberry red. Her name was May Chin and she was Tulip’s mistress.

The apartment was in a new development in Kowloon and it was lush. It smelled heavily of money.

May Chin was twenty-four, but looked nineteen. She was in silk lounging pajamas and she looked comfortable and unconcerned on her chaise longue.

The outside of Nick’s glass was sweating because of the ice inside. He sipped the concoction and it tasted fine and smooth. He was on a black-silk davenport and his legs were stretched out. He also seemed comfortable but not unconcerned.

“Don’t you believe me, Nick?” the Chinese girl said. “I told you I haven’t seen Harry in weeks.”

Harry Weston was the name Tulip was using in Hong Kong.

“You think he skipped?” Nick asked casually.

“I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t think so,” Nick said. “I think he’s right here in Hong Kong.”

May Chin had an amused look on her lovely lips. “Think as you damn please.” Suddenly she appeared thoughtful. “I thought you and Harry were once associated in something. A business enterprise, I believe. But no matter. You two are supposed to be friends. Yet you act like some hunter out for game. Or am I getting the wrong impression?”

“It’s a poor act, May. It won’t work. Why don’t you loosen up and save yourself some grief? I’m not leaving Hong Kong till I see Harry.”

“I’m getting the impression Harry may be hiding from you.”

“Where is he?”

May sighed as if she was bored by it all. “I don’t know.”

Nick then described the Chinese who had used the Sten gun. He saw recognition register in May’s eyes.

“Yes, I know him,” she admitted. She sat up. “Just what’s going on, Nick?”

She sounded genuine enough. Nick was tempted to believe she really didn’t know where Tulip was. He knew that she had been kept in the dark about Tulip’s activities, and AXE had ordered a check on her when it was learned she was Tulip’s mistress. She had been cleared. No known Communist sympathies.

“You’ve always been clever,” Nick said. “You never went out of your way to look for trouble. Why start now? The less you know, the better off you’ll be. That’s sound advice, May. Sound advice from an old friend.”

“Is Tulip in trouble?”

Nick became alert. “Tulip? Don’t you mean Harry?”

“I guess I slipped up. All right, Nick. I know Harry was working for his government. He got drunk one night and told me everything.”

“Very reliable, our friend Harry.”

“Can’t you tell me what it’s all about?” She was almost pleading.

Nick put his glass aside. “You really don’t know?”

She shook her head, and her hair, black as midnight, flew about her lovely face.

“He turned traitor.”

There was shock on her face. “I don’t believe it.”

“You asked for it.”

“I... I hate the Commies. Harry knew it. He wouldn’t do that to me. He wouldn’t. You must be wrong.”

“Is that why he’s hiding?” Nick saw she didn’t want to face the brutal truth. If it was an act, it was a good one. She had admitted knowing Tulip’s Chinese companion. She never would have done that if she was on the other side. She would have been more clever, more cautious. “Tulip uses people,” Nick said. “He was always that way. Maybe he’s using you now.”

“I swear I don’t know where he is,” she cried. There were tears of rage and humiliation in her eyes.

“All right,” Nick conceded. “What about the Chinese I described to you?”

“His... his name is Wong Chew. I know he’s been with Harry constantly for some time now.”

“Where can I find him?”

“He has an apartment above a printer’s shop on Jordan Road.” She gave Nick the number. “He had a little party once and Harry took me up there. It’s not much of a place. A dump.”

Nick picked up his drink and finished it. “Take my advice and get yourself another playmate.” He got to his feet.

“When I want your advice,” she said heatedly, “I’ll ask for it.”

Nick shrugged and walked out He wasn’t sure whether she was angry at him or Tulip.

He hadn’t lost anything by seeing her. Even if it was an act and she warned Tulip, it didn’t matter. Tulip knew that he was in Hong Kong and looking for him. It was Tulip who had driven the car while Wong had blasted away with the Sten gun. Nick had a score to settle with Wong. If he could get Wong to talk...

But there was another ace in the hole. Jimmy How. Nick was saving Jimmy How for last.

Nick found a restaurant and had mandarin duck with cold beer. Then he went to his hotel room, where he showered and took a nap.

Nick liked night work. The pay wasn’t better but it was much safer. He took a walla walla — a motorboat — to Kowloon, and a taxi drove him to Jordan Road.

There was a light on in the apartment over the printing store. There was the barest chance that Tulip was hiding there in Wong’s apartment. It was too much to hope for.

Nick went up the stairs and stopped in front of the door. He held the Luger ready in his right hand, and with his left he picked the lock. The door opened and a startled Chinese jumped up from a straight-backed chair. He had been reading a magazine. It flew from his lap to the floor. It was Wong. He was in his shorts. There was a bandage on his left arm. He saw the gun in Nick’s hand and ran for the bedroom.

Nick could have potted him there but he wanted the man to talk first. He ran after him.

Nick stopped in the doorway and said, “Hold it.”

The Sten gun was on the bed, and Wong was clawing for it.

Nick shot away the lower part of the man’s jaw. Then he sent another bullet spinning into the top of his head. Wong rolled off the bed.

It was getting to be a blood bath, Nick decided. He knew it wouldn’t end till Tulip was six feet under.

May Chin had been right. The place was a dump.

Nick knew it was useless but he searched the flat anyway, hoping for an address on a piece of paper, an address which could be Tulip’s hiding place. He found nothing.

Chapter 5

Nick was dressing when the phone rang. He sat on the bed and picked up the receiver. “Yes?”

“Outside call for you, sir. One second, please.” There was a faint click and a man’s voice came on. “Hello, Nick.”

Nick’s fingers tightened on the receiver. “Tulip.”

“I see you got to Wong. He was a good boy.”

“You’re next on the list, Tulip. You know that, don’t you?”

“Sure. What the hell. Maybe you’ll get me. Maybe you won’t.”

“How did you know where I was staying?”

“I saw you coming out of May’s apartment. I figured you might look her up. I followed you to your hotel Then I went back to see May, and she swore she hadn’t told you anything.”

“She hadn’t,” Nick said, breathing deeply.

“That’s a lie. She told you where Wong lived.”

There was a click and the line was dead.

Nick put the receiver back on its cradle. He finished dressing and went downstairs.

May Chin lay in the tub totally nude. One of her legs was drawn up at an obscene angle; her heavy breasts floated on the water. Her head rested on one arm; only her eyes were visible. She seemed to be staring straight at Nick.

He had never seen her so openly sexual. The door to the bathroom had been open when he came in; it was almost as if she was waiting for him, now that Tulip was gone. As if she wanted to use Nick to forget. Well, Nick was willing — and more than able.

He moved closer to her. “I’ll just join you,” he said. She didn’t answer. He leaned over her to kiss her, then recoiled in shock.

She was dead. There was a silk stocking around her neck. Nick touched the water in the tub; it was cold.

Tulip had killed May for spite. It was a senseless killing. He knew she hadn’t told Nick where he was hiding. Nick would have gone to where he was hiding instead of wasting time at Wong’s.

Tulip had killed May to show his defiance. Wong couldn’t have mattered that much to him.

But why was Tulip still in Hong Kong? What was he waiting for? Why didn’t he hop over into the mainland?

Maybe Jimmy How knew the answers.

Jimmy had done odd jobs for Tulip. He was close to Tulip, or as close as one could get. Tulip used Jimmy and he had laughed about it to Nick. And Jimmy was a big shot in his own right...

Part of the mainland behind Kowloon was called New Territories and was leased to Great Britain in 1898. There were shrimp and duck farms that catered to the many different types of restaurants in Hong Kong. There was one shrimp farm that was actually a cover for a product that would have interested the police. Heroin was more popular in Hong Kong than opium was.

And one of the biggest suppliers was a man named Jimmy How. Jimmy was twenty-six. He would have been handsome except for the ugly jagged scar on his face made by a shrimp knife. The man who had given Jimmy the souvenir was dead. He had been found dead with his throat slashed two days after Jimmy had left the hospital.

Jimmy welcomed Nick with a warm handshake and invited him into the wood-frame house. The interior was richly lavish with thick rugs and expensive furniture. Jimmy was a very rich man. There was a portable bar, and Jimmy made drinks. “Why didn’t you call me to tell me you were in Hong Kong?” Jimmy said, giving Nick his drink.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Nick rolled the glass between his palms. “I know you love surprises.”

“Sit down, Nick No need to stand. See that sofa. All the way from Grand Rapids.”

Nick sat. “Have you seen Tulip around?”

Jimmy sat in a club chair and kicked his shoes off. “I like to be comfortable. Let’s see now. What’d you say?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh, yeah. Tulip. Nope. Seems he disappeared off the face of the earth. There’s a rumor floating about that he’s dead. But you can’t take stock in rumors.”

“He killed May Chin,” Nick said bluntly.

Jimmy caught his breath sharply. “Did he do that?”

“I just said so.”

“I... I can’t help you, Nick.”

“Can’t — or won’t?”

Jimmy’s face tightened, and the scar was darkish in contrast to the surrounding skin. “Don’t come shoving your weight around here, Nick. I won’t have it.”

Nick put his glass down. “When Tulip needed forged passports, false identification papers and the like, he went to you. He paid you well. That money came from the organization I work for, and you know it. Your main racket is heroin, but you like to keep your fingers busy in other enterprises. Chances are you know about Tulip turning double. You know everything else. Now let’s stop playing games, Jimmy.”

“I told you I can’t help you,” Jimmy said coldly. His eyes were measuring Nick. He looked like a snake watching a mouse. “You’ve come for nothing, Nick.”

Nick calmly lit a cigarette. “I could kill you, Jimmy. Or torture you. Or blow the whistle and let the police have you. I’ve never bothered you because you sometimes came in handy. But if you don’t help me now, I’ll lean on you and I’ll lean hard.”

“I could have you dead in five minutes, Nick. Everybody on this shrimp farm works for me. I even have some Triads on the place. They’d just as soon kill you as look at you.”

The Triads were the gangsters who controlled the prostitution in Hong Kong. They had originally started about three hundred years ago as patriotic societies to overthrow the Manchus. Today, their main function was crime.

With one fluid movement, Nick was up and bending over Jimmy, and Hugo was out with the point of steel at the Chinese’s throat. “Shall I draw blood?” The point was pressing against the taut skin.

Nick looked into Jimmy’s eyes. There was no fear there. Jimmy had guts. Nick grinned like a banshee. “I’ve always had a suppressed desire to cut off a man’s head and use it as an ashtray.”

Jimmy’s lips moved. “Drop dead.”

Nick slowly relented. He eased the pressure, but Hugo had already taken a bite and a thin stream of blood ran down onto Jimmy’s shirt collar. “Maybe I’m going at this the wrong way, Jimmy. Are you obligated to Tulip? Is that why you’re covering for him? What’s the answer, Jimmy?”

“It’s a matter of honor.”

“Don’t go noble on me, Jimmy. You’re in a bad spot. I either kill you or turn you over to the cops. You don’t owe Tulip a thing.”

“Let me think about it.”

“Sure. I’ll give you a whole minute.”

Jimmy was a practical man. He did have a kind of code. Most gangsters did. The American gangster, when shot by a rival mob, never squealed when questioned by the police if he was found alive. If he was dying, then he gave up the ghost with his lips sealed. That was his code.

Jimmy How had a lot to live for. He had money, women, and an enterprising business. He wasn’t afraid of dying. He was sure he had proved that to Nick. If he died he would have nothing. If he went to prison he would lose everything. It didn’t matter how long he stayed in prison. Once he was in a cell his confederates would take over and he would be out in the cold. And there was May Chin. Jimmy had liked her. What did he owe Tulip? Nick was right He didn’t owe Tulip a damn thing.

Jimmy then explained to Nick that he would lose a great deal if it became known that he had betrayed Tulip.

Nick knew how the Oriental felt about losing face and prestige. “I realize that. No one will ever know.”

“You’ll have to kill him.” Jimmy reached for a cigarette in an ivory box and lit it. “I felt honor-bound to help Tulip. You understand how it is, Nick.”

“Sure, sure.”

Tulip was on Cheung Chau Island. There was an old deserted house on the island built by a Russian general of the white army after the revolution. Jimmy had bought the house two years ago from a dealer in opium. The dealer had used the house to store opium produced in Turkey and Iran and smuggled out through Beirut. This opium was considered a finer grade than that produced from the Yunnan poppy. Tulip was now hidden in that same house.

“Why didn’t Tulip get the hell out of Hong Kong?” Nick wanted to know.

Jimmy grinned crookedly. “He wants to sleep nights. He knew they would send you after him. Even a frightened rat stops running.”

“Did you know he and a Chinese named Wong made a try for me with a machine gun?”

“I’d heard about it.”

“Why did he turn traitor?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Maybe he wanted the finer things in life. That takes money, and the Chinese Reds pay well.” Jimmy mashed out his cigarette. “I’m sending a man tonight to bring him supplies. You can tag along partway. While my man gives Tulip the supplies, you can go in the back way.”

“You’re too generous.”

Jimmy bit his lower lip. “You’ll have to kill him. That’s the deal. I can’t afford to have him talk. I’ll be ruined.”

“Just don’t cross me,” Nick warned. “If you do I’ll come back and kill you on sight.”

Jimmy winced. “You hurt my feelings, Nick.”

“You’re like me; you have no feelings.”

Jimmy looked up at Nick. “You and Tulip were buddy-buddy. He told me so. Hard thing to knock off a friend.”

“We’ll see. Now where do I meet your man?”

“At the dock. His name is Yun Lee. You can’t miss him. He’ll be wearing a big straw hat and a stupid grin on his face.”

Chapter 6

There was time to kill and Nick didn’t want to spend it alone. He deliberately went out to get himself a girl.

He found her in the Oriental, a cabaret in Kowloon.

Her name was Mimi Tong and she was very pretty. She smelled good too. Jasmine. Her eyes weren’t slanted and she had that soft Eurasian look but she insisted she was all Chinese.

Nick didn’t care one way or another. She had a supple body that fit neatly against his as they danced. He held her close and smelled her perfume and he almost forgot the past few days.

“You like me?” Her arm was cool against his neck.

“Very much,”

“Are you hungry?”

“What?” The question surprised him.

“I haven’t had dinner,” she explained.

“Okay. But you’ll have to eat alone. I’ll watch.”

They went to the Rice Bowl on Kimberley Road and he watched her eat. “Are you new in Hong Kong?” she asked between bites.

“Not exactly.”

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

“I’m a man of action, and I hope to prove it to you.”

She poured almond tea into her cup. “Do you like to gamble?”

“I have other things on my mind now besides gambling.”

She giggled. “You watched me eat. Now you can watch me gamble.”

Nick’s face took on a stern look. He wanted to know if she was taking him for a ride.

She reached out and held his hand. “You won’t be disappointed.” There was promise in her eyes. A promise of a thousand delights. “I like you, Nick. I want to have some fun. I ate a good dinner; now I want to gamble. Then we’ll get together for the most beautiful time ever. Mimi Tong always keeps her promises.”

“You talked me into it. Where do we go from here?”

“Macao.”

Nick shook his head. “I’ll have to take a raincheck. There’s no time. I have an appointment.”

“I’ll gamble for only an hour,” she promised. “You won’t miss your appointment.”

“Okay, Mimi. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The hydrofoil zipped across forty miles of water to Macao, the oldest foreign settlement in the Far East. Macao had always been under the flag of Portugal.

They went to the Estoril, where Mimi played roulette, hi-lo, blackjack and fan-tan. She won two hundred and thirty dollars and insisted on giving Nick half of it. After all, she said, she had played with his money. It was only fair he should take half.

Mimi knew of a hotel nearby. Nick would have to pay more than the room would be worth because they had no luggage. But it would be worth it, she promised.

They walked past the Barrier Gate which separated Macao from Red China.

The room was on the second floor, and a cool breeze came in. He looked out the window and saw the silver of the moon on the dark water. Behind him Mimi was getting undressed. When she was naked she called out to him.

Her body was slim and graceful and her breasts were young with impudent little nipples. She helped him undress, and then they were on the bed, making love.

Later, he learned that she liked to talk in bed. She told him of her younger sister who was always “chasing the dragon.” Nick knew what that expression meant. Inhaling heroin fumes. It was the Hong Kong addict’s favorite way of taking heroin.

“Can’t you stop her?”

She shook her head. Mimi had no control over her younger sister. She could tell Nick a few things about her sister, but she didn’t want to shock him.

“Then don’t,” he said. “I shock very easily.”

She stretched, put her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. “I like you very much, Nick.” She kissed him very hard, bruising his lips.

Soon it was time for them to leave. They dressed and went down. The hydrofoil took them back to Hong Kong. Nick enjoyed the spray of water that kept hitting his face.

Mimi seemed reluctant to part. “Must you keep that appointment?” she asked.

“I have no choice,” Nick told her.

“When will I see you again?”

“I’m leaving Hong Kong,” he said. “Probably tomorrow.”

“So this must be goodbye.”

“That doesn’t mean we won’t see each other again. I travel a hell of a lot.”

They kissed, and they didn’t care who stared.

Chapter 7

Nick met Yun Lee at the dock. Yun Lee was a middle-aged man wearing a big straw hat, a long coolie coat, and pajamalike pants. He grinned stupidly and bowed. He had surprisingly intelligent eyes that seemed to ransack Nick’s face as if to find out what type of man Nick was. He spoke a little English. There was a bundle under his arm.

It took an hour to get to Cheung Chau Island from Hong Kong by ferry. A British warship, trim and sleek, sailed across the bow of the ferry. Nick heard the water lapping at the sides of the ferry. The sky was lousy with stars. Nick wished it was all over.

The hour seemed like an eternity.

There were tourists on the ferry, on their way to visit the fishing village on the island. Nick envied them. The tourists. School teachers, businessmen and their wives, government employees — from all over the world to see Hong Kong, the exotic island, the enchanting island. On their vacation. They were interested only in having a good time.

And what the hell was wrong with that?

Nick knew he wouldn’t change places with any one of the tourists on the ferry. He was doing what he wanted to do. Sure, he griped sometimes. Even the professional soldier sometimes griped. It was good for the soul. He lived in a dark world inhabited by dark people. Dark, evil people and that was inevitable. They made his world dark. And if it wasn’t for the dark evil people he wouldn’t be necessary. Maybe he should be grateful to them. They had helped create him. Nick Carter. N3. Killmaster. AXEman.

A breeze, shot with sea spray, cooled his face.

They were approaching the island. Another five minutes. Then the hunt would begin.

Five minutes... four minutes... three minutes.

The ferry docked, and Nick was alongside Yun Lee as the passengers disembarked. Though the streets were crowded, there wasn’t the hustle and bustle one found in Hong Kong.

Yun Lee and Nick skirted the village and kept on going. Then Nick started to lag behind. Yun Lee looked back once, nodded his head at Nick and kept on going.

It was a deserted part of the island, and the village was far behind. It seemed that he and Yun Lee were alone in the world. There was no noise. Not even the sound of night birds or crickets. This part of the island was well lighted by moonlight. To Nick’s left was the base of a low, sloping hill. He started for the hill, climbed it part way, and rounded it till he saw the house. He saw Yun Lee at the front door.

All he had to do was climb down, make for the back of the house, and confront Tulip. But he waited.

The front door opened and Yun Lee walked in.

It was cool and breezy and he felt a sixth sense telling him to wait... wait... wait...

The moon was low and full with a thousand stars for company.

How long did it take Yun Lee to deliver a bundle of supplies? It was almost five minutes. Was Tulip shooting the breeze with Yun Lee? Tulip spoke Chinese.

This was the time to go down and approach the house from the back. But something kept him rooted to the spot.

His hands felt clammy.

The door was opening. Yun Lee was leaving. The straw hat, the long coolie coat. Yun Lee seemed taller.

Nick drew the Luger from its holster. He started down the sloping hill He was near the base of it and Yun Lee was a few yards away, his back to Nick.

“Wait a minute,” Nick called out.

Yun Lee spun around. But it wasn’t Yun Lee. The moonlight was on his face. It was Tulip. And there was the gun. It jumped and barked.

Nick fired twice, and Tulip spun around, dropping his gun, his hands on his belly.

Nick ran toward the crumpling man. He saw Tulip hit the ground. Nick kicked at the gun Tulip had dropped. It sailed away and landed somewhere with a thud.

Nick knelt and saw Tulip’s hands over his belly. The blood was oozing between his fingers.

Tulip grinned up at Nick, and then his face twisted in pain. His breathing came in tortured gasps. “I... knew you were going to... find me. Had to be you, Nick.”

“Jimmy How crossed me.”

“No. I knew... something was up. Yun Lee. His eyes. He looked at me... as if I was... already dead.”

“Why did you turn double?”

Tulip’s face was pasty-white in the moonlight. His voice was weak. “Money. Only live once, Nick. Might... as well live... good.”

“Did you have to loll May?”

“She was... just a tramp. Did her a... favor.”

“She loved you, Tulip.”

“Sure. She... was weak. I wasn’t... weak. I proved it Didn’t I... Nick? I... proved it. Had to prove it...”

“Tulip.” Nick shook the man’s shoulder. “Tulip. Can you hear me?” He saw the open glazed eyes. Tulip was dead. Dead on an island under the moonlight. Nick stood up and holstered the Luger.

“Sorry, Tulip,” he said. “But I only played the cards you dealt me.”

Content

Nick Carter
Peking & The Tulip Affair

Peking

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

The Tulip Affair

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7