by Gar Wilson
There was no time to reload the Uzi or even draw the SIG Sauer P-226 from shoulder leather. So Katz charged his opponent, holding the Uzi like a bar in front of his chest. He crashed into Temujin as the Mongol drew his knife. The steel frame of the subgun hit hard, driving the TRIO fanatic into the hall.
Katz stayed with his opponent and swung a boot between Temujin's legs. The Mongol groaned in agony but still struck out with the knife. Sharp steel cut Katz's left forearm. He dropped the empty Uzi and jumped back, blood trickling from the wounded limb.
"I'll get the bastard," McCarter offered, trying to aim his Browning at Temujin.
"Stay out of this!" Katz said crossly as he adopted a T-dachi karata stance, the steel hooks of his prosthesis held at chest level while his left hand was poised at his hip.
Temujin coughed. A glob of blood spilled from his lips. Yet the Mongol's lips twisted into a deranged smile as he lunged with the knife. Katz swung his right arm. The prosthesis struck the knife blade and parried the stroke. Katz's left hand delivered a spearhand thrust. The tips of stiff fingers stabbed into the nerve cluster under Temujin's arm. His fist opened, and the dagger dropped to the floor.
Katz stomped a boot to the side of Temujin's right kneecap. The Mongol cried out and fell on all fours. Katz clamped the tri-hooks of his prosthesis to the nape of his opponent's neck and applied pressure. The steel grip tightened forcibly. Flesh tore, muscles were pulverized and vertebrae crunched. Temujin's body trembled for a moment, then abruptly ceased. Katz released the Mongol and allowed the corpse to fall face down on the floor.
Calvin James and Major Alekseyev carried the senseless figure of Lieutenant Savchenko through the front door. Gary Manning followed. Katz sighed with relief, glad to see all his Phoenix Force team had survived the raid. Then he frowned when he recalled his instructions to James. He moved to the head of the stairs and watched James examine Savchenko.
"What about the three men who ran out of here?" Katz called down to James.
"I was told they're no problem," the black warrior replied. "Vladimir needs help, so we brought him inside..."
"What happened to the TRIO fugitives?" Katz insisted.
"I saw them head toward the helicopter," Gary Manning replied.
The roar of explosion outside startled everyone except the Canadian demolitions expert. Manning could not resist a smile of satisfaction.
"Sounds like they almost got it off the ground," he concluded.
22
Phoenix Force, John Trent, the two KGB agents and a handful of disgruntled TRIO hoodlums who had survived the battle, waited by the shore. The conning tower of the Manta broke the surface of the South China Sea. The submarine gradually emerged to display the great gray hump of the turtleback. Even the prisoners seemed relieved when the submarine appeared.
"Major," Katz began. "Will you do the honors?"
"Of course," Viktor Alekseyev replied as he aimed his flare gun at the sky and squeezed the trigger.
The projectile shot into the clouds and exploded in a brilliant red glare. A cheer from the crew of the Manta reached the men on the island. Alekseyev glanced down at the four metal suitcases containing the VL-800 formula.
"Mission worked out pretty well, Mr. Gray," he commented, "or whatever your name really is. It has been a pleasure and an honor to work with you. It's a pity we have to be enemies."
"Are we enemies, Viktor?" Katz inquired.
"You and I?" Alekseyev smiled. "No, no, we'll never really be enemies. We might have to kill each other in the future, but we'll never be enemies."
"I understand," Katz said, laughing. "Strange business, isn't it? How many other people talk about killing their friends and they don't take it personally?"
"With luck, I'll be assigned to Moscow after this," the KGB officer commented. "They're supposed to promote me to full colonel, you know."
"Congratulations," Katz replied.
"Well, the Kremlin might be a bit upset when they learn Vladimir defected," Alekseyev sighed.
"What?" Katz blinked with surprise.
"I heard him talk about it when he was under the influence of morphine," the KGB agent explained. "Lieutenant Vladimir Savchenko plans to head for the American embassy to seek political asylum."
"Are you going to let him?" the Israeli asked.
"I guess I should shoot him or something," Alekseyev said with a shrug. "But I won't. He'll be going to a hospital when we get back to Hong Kong, and from there he can defect without my knowledge. Best for all of us that way. The Kremlin can't blame me for that. I might not make full colonel, but I'll still get a promotion and a few other considerations."
"I hope so," Katz said sincerely. "You're a good man. I hope things go well for you."
"For you, too, Mr. Gray," the Russian said with a nod. He reached into a pocket and removed an ornate cigarette lighter. "I want you to have this."
"Thank you," Katz replied, accepting the gift.
"There's a miniature camera built into it," Alekseyev admitted. "I took some photographs of you and your men after you removed the masks when we reached Hong Kong. I was going to give them to the KGB Information Section of the Foreign Operations Department, but I'll tell them I lost the camera. The film is still in it."
"I see," Katz said with a nod.
"Nothing personal about taking those pictures..."
"I understand," Katz said, smiling as he offered his own lighter to Alekseyev. "Believe me, I understand."
"You too?" Alekseyev laughed as he took the lighter-camera.
"Film is still in it," the Phoenix Force commander assured him.
Both men smiled. Each closed his fist around a lighter, cocked back his arm and hurled the miniature surveillance devices into the sea.