Death Island

by Nick Carter

  Carter crouched in the classic shooter's stance, both arms straight out, and he squeezed off one shot from the Luger, then a second, and finally a third, the last hitting its mark. He was certain of it.

  Both techs were dead; it took him only a second to make sure there was nothing he could do for either of them. Carter raced down the inner maintenance road past the last two supply buildings, and he slowed down as he passed the first generator shed.

  There was a lot of shouting back up by the administration building. A car or truck horn was beeping, and he could hear the sound of some machinery running. It sounded oddly like a jackhammer.

  The fire was beginning to die down, and some of the lights were coming back on up by the radomes, but where Carter was, it was very dark.

  He had spotted the brown-skinned figure just beyond the second generator shed. But standing now between the two buildings, peering into the darkness, he could not be sure of anything he was seeing.

  The native had been very accurate with his arrows. At this range, if he was still lurking around the corner of the generator building, he would not miss.

  Carter stepped away from the building so that when he came around the corner he would not be right on top of the man if he were crouched right there.

  Then Carter spotted the body lying in the grass just off the road, in shadow, and he took a few steps closer.

  Lying beside the native was a sturdy-looking bow and an animal-skin quiver that contained two arrows. As far as Carter could see, the man was not moving, but he saw no blood.

  A car came around to the maintenance road, its headlights momentarily illuminating Carter's back. He turned around to see who was coming. At that moment he felt, rather than heard, a rapid movement to his left. He turned back in time to see the native rushing at him, a machete in his right hand.

  Carter stepped back and to one side, but he was too late to avoid the native's callused foot to his right wrist, sending his Luger flying.

  The native was momentarily off-balance. Carter managed a clumsy blow to the man's chest, spinning him backward.

  The brown-skinned man recovered nicely and came at Carter with the machete raised high.

  Carter easily sidestepped the charge and slipped Hugo out of the chamois sheath strapped to his right forearm.

  The blade glinted brightly in the headlights of the car that had come to a halt somewhere behind him. The native, spotting the stiletto, pulled up short, much more wary now mat he realized Carter was armed.

  "I mean you no harm, "Carter said in French. "But you must understand why I have to arrest you."

  The native lunged, swinging the machete in a deadly underhanded sweep intended to disembowel. Carter leaped back and slashed downward, just catching the native's forearm with the tip of the blade.

  Someone came running as the native began sidestepping to the left so that he would end up closer to the shadows at the side of the generator shed. That was when Carter knew he could take the man alive.

  He lunged at the native, who swung back with the machete but then spun around and started for the shadows. Carter was on him in an instant, grabbing his right arm and quickly bending it back so that the man lost his grip on the machete.

  The native struggled around to face Carter, who let go, stepped back, and doubled up his fist, smashing it into the man's jaw. The native's head snapped back, and he crumpled to the ground.

  "Monsieur Carter!" Gabrielle called out.

  Carter turned around as Fenster, a grimly intent look on his face, blood running down from a shoulder wound, a.45 in his hand, came rushing at him, the automatic pointed at the downed native.

  "Bastard!" Fenster shouted.

  Carter put out his right foot, tripping Fenster, who went down hard. Then he kicked the gun out of the security chief's hand. The man howled in pain.

  Gabrielle stood by the open door of the limousine. The big car's headlights illuminated the entire scene. She had evidently spotted him down here and had driven up from the main gate. He was surprised she had not been stopped. But then Fenster and his security people had evidently been too busy.

  Carter found his Luger, then pulled the native to his feet. The brown-skinned man was just coming around, and as soon as his eyes focused he began to struggle. Carter thrust the Luger's barrel above the man's nose, directly between his eyes, and the native immediately settled down, his eyes rolling in hate and fear.

  Fenster was just picking himself up. "You son-of-a-bitching bastard…"he started.

  "Get hold of yourself, Fenster!" Carter barked. "We've got work to do!"

  "The goddamned Poly…"

  Carter looked at the security chief in disgust, then hauled the native around. With the Luger jammed into the little man's neck behind his right ear, he marched him back to the limo.

  Without a word Gabrielle opened the rear door on the side opposite from where Tieggs lay, and Carter shoved the native inside and got in after him.

  Fenster came over to the car. "Where the hell are you taking him?"

  "The dispensary."

  "He's not hurt."

  "There are a few questions I'd like to ask him, Fenster," Carter snapped with exasperation. "This is the second all-out attack on this base. Hasn't it occurred to you to take a prisoner and question him? Or at the very least put up a helicopter to find out where the hell these people are coming from?"

  Fenster climbed into the front seat as Gabrielle got in behind the wheel. He looked at her for a second or two, then inclined his head. "Mrs. Rondine. It is a surprise to see you out here this evening."

  "Which way to the dispensary?" Carter asked from the back seat.

  "It's up toward Administration," Fenster said, turning around. He spotted Tieggs on the back seat. "Christ! What happened to Bob?"

  "He had an accident on the road coming up here."

  "Turn around," Fenster instructed Gabrielle. "The dispensary is the other way up from the main gate."

  * * *

  There were several bodies lying here and there on and along the access roads up from the main gate toward the administration building area. Most of them were brown-skinned natives, however. Only a few technicians had been killed or wounded.

  One of the barracks down the hill from the radomes had been set on fire. A half-dozen technicians were fighting the blaze, which had already consumed most of the building. A pump was going — the jackhammer noise — and they were playing streams of water on the adjacent buildings. The barracks was a lost cause.

  Justin Owen was just coming out of the administration building when they pulled up across the street from it. The front of his khaki shirt was covered with blood.

  Carter opened the door, got out, and pulled the native out after him.

  "You got one of the bastards," the station manager shouted hoarsely as he hobbled across the street.

  Gabrielle and Fenster had both gotten out of the car.

  "Get up to the dispensary and get someone to come out for Tieggs," Carter told Fenster.

  For just a moment it seemed as if the man would not take any orders from Carter, but then he turned on his heel and stalked up the walk and into the building.

  Owen started to reach for his.45 when he got across the street, but Carter stopped him. "He's more valuable to us alive than dead."

  They were speaking in English, and it did not appear that the native understood a word they were saying. But he was obviously very frightened. He kept looking up at the radomes and the antenna farm as if they were some sort of monsters that would leap out after him at any moment. He had shown a lot of courage facing Carter back at the generator sheds. But now he was frightened.

  Curious, Carter thought. He looked around, suddenly conscious of the fact there were no Orientals around. Normally they were all over the place. But none were in sight at this moment. Even more curious.

  "Good evening. Madame Rondine," Owen was saying, seeming to suddenly realize who she was. "I don't know if it is wise that you remain here. Th
ere still could be danger."

  "She's staying with us," Carter said.

  "What?" Owen asked. He was very confused by everything that had happened, although he did not appear to be wounded. The blood on his khakis looked as if it had been splashed on him.

  "She's leaving her husband. She's asked for political asylum."

  "Oh, Christ," Owen groaned. "We don't need this, Carter."

  "Later," Carter snapped. "For now I want this one in the dispensary."

  "Is he hurt?"

  "No. I want to question him."

  "The dispensary is full. We can use my office," Owen said distastefully.

  Fenster came out of the dispensary with two men who carried a stretcher.

  They gently eased Tieggs out of the back seat and carried him into the dispensary.

  "What about him?" Fenster asked, looking at the native.

  "We're taking him to my office," Owen replied.

  They went back across the road and into the administration building. Carter had to half drag, half carry the native, who did not want to move no matter how harshly he was prodded with the gun.

  Inside, there were a number of people hurrying back and forth. Owen stopped one of the techs.

  "How about our communications dish?" he asked.

  "We just about have it realigned, Mr. Owen," the harried tech said.

  "We'll have communications with the States within the next half hour?"

  "Or sooner."

  "I want nothing out in the clear, do you understand that? Not a damned thing."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Nothing by radio or by telephone. There are too many ears out there."

  "Yes, sir. As soon as the link is ready, we'll patch it through our crypto circuits."

  "Good man," Owen said. "I want the en clair switchboard completely off line."

  "Yes, sir," the technician said, and he hurried out of the building.

  "This is the second time we've been caught with our pants down around our ankles. I don't want to broadcast it for any Tom, Dick, or Harry who has a communications receiver to hear."

  "If you hadn't ordered it, I would have," Carter said.

  Gabrielle had been standing silently a few feet from the men. Carter glanced at her, then back at Owen.

  "Have you someplace for her to stay?" he asked.

  "She can have the VIP quarters next to yours. But I don't think this is such a good idea."

  "I'll take the responsibility that State will clear it," Carter said. He turned back to her. "Perhaps it would be best if you went up to your room."

  Gabrielle managed a slight smile. "You want to question this man," she said. "How do you plan on accomplishing it?"

  "I don't understand," Carter said.

  "She means in what language," Fenster said. "Most of these Polys here don't speak English or French."

  "He is correct," Gabrielle said. She looked at the native. "He probably speaks a pidgin Chinese, Japanese, and Malaysian."

  "Fenster?" Carter asked. The security chief shook his head. "Owen?" The station manager shook his head.

  "I speak it," Gabrielle said softly.

  "Right," Carter said. It was about what he had suspected. There was something drastically wrong here. A security chief who didn't know what the hell he was doing. A station manager who was inept. Orientals who were everywhere except when trouble came. Natives who came and went at will. A French governor who was obviously involved with the troubles the base was having, yet nothing could be proved. And now the governor's wife showing up as the only translator.

  They all went into Owen's office. The native seemed much calmer now that they were out of sight of the radomes and antenna farm.

  Carter had him sit in a chair facing the window. The blinds were drawn.

  "Ask him why his people attacked this base," Carter told Gabrielle.

  She came up beside the man and looked into his eyes. He stared up at her, unblinking, unsmiling. She spoke, the pidgin language a soft, tonal series of vowel sounds punctuated by glottal stops.

  The native just looked at her, but he made no move to answer or even indicate that he had understood.

  "Tell him I will open these blinds, and something very bad will fall upon him," Carter said.

  Gabrielle seemed confused.

  "Just tell him that," Carter insisted.

  She did, and the change in his expression was noticeable. Still, however, he said nothing.

  Carter went around Owen's desk and, keeping his eye on the native, slowly raised the blinds all the way. The change in the native's expression this time was startling. His apparent self-confidence and lack of understanding instantly melted away, changing into abject fear.

  "He will be sent to that place," Carter shouted, pointing out die window to the radomes and antenna farm.

  Gabrielle told the native what Carter had said. The man shook his head and babbled something.

  "He begs you on his family's heads and on the great god Hiva Maui Hiva — which I think is the volcano on Natu Faui — not to do this to him."

  "Why did his people attack this station?" Carter asked.

  Gabrielle repeated the question, but the native kept shaking his head and repeating his plea.

  Carter lowered the blinds, and the man calmed down. Gabrielle repeated the question.

  For several moments it seemed as if the native was not going to answer them, but then he launched into a long, very involved explanation of some sort. Several times Gabrielle stopped him and asked him something else. Each time it produced another string of babble.

  At length he fell quiet, and Gabrielle looked up. She seemed uncertain. It raised the hair on the nape of Carter's neck.

  "His people attacked this base twice because each time the god of Hiva Maui Hiva appeared and told them to do so."

  Carter waited for her to go on. But she did not. "That's it?" he asked. "All that?"

  "He kept repeating it, and I asked if he meant the volcano was active… if the god spoke to his people through flame and lava. But he said no. The god himself appeared."

  "What else?" Carter asked. Fenster had a sneer on his lips, and Owen was clearly confused.

  "I asked him if the god had come as a sign. A bird flying at night. A shark. Some other sign. But he insisted the god came to them in person. In a ghostly light at night," Gabrielle said. This last seemed to disturb her the most.

  "Holy shit," Fenster swore.

  They ail turned as the native flipped off the chair onto the floor, blood gushing from between his clenched teeth as he choked.

  "Christ!" Carter shouted, throwing himself down beside the native. "Get a medic over here on the double!"

  The native had bitten completely through his tongue. A large piece of it hung by a few tatters against his cheek. His eyes were open wide and shining.

  Carter tried to roll him over on his stomach so that the vast amount of blood pumping from his severed tongue would not choke him to death. But the man resisted. When Carter finally did get him over, the native kept taking deep, rasping breaths, forcing the blood down his windpipe and into his lungs. Drowning himself in his own blood.

  Fenster had rushed out the door, but long before he returned with the medic, the native shuddered, then lay still.

  Six

  After the native's body had been removed from Owen's office, they all stood around staring at the huge pool of blood until Owen finally went to the door and shouted for his batman, Huang Chou.

  One of the technicians hurrying down the corridor looked back. "They're all gone, sir," he said.

  Owen stepped out into the hallway. "What did you say?"

  "They're all gone, Mr. Owen. There isn't one Chinese on the base."

  Owen walked in glum silence back into his office.

  Carter had poured them each a stiff shot of bourbon. "They knew about the attack before it came."

  "It would seem so," Fenster said, taking his drink.

  "Why didn't you know?"

  "
We never expected anything like that to happen the first time and certainly not a second time. We weren't even looking."

  "It's al I right," Carter said tiredly. He glanced at his watch. It was after one in the morning. It seemed like years since he had last slept. "As soon as your people get back, we'll know how they got in and out undetected."

  "What?" Fenster asked.

  "Your patrols," Carter said. "The people you sent after the natives."

  Fenster said nothing.

  "You did send up a chopper or at least a couple of men on foot to follow them?"

  Fenster shook his head. "There was too much confusion," he said. "In the darkness we didn't know who was hurt, who was killed, or what was going on."

  "Damn," Carter swore. "Is there another chopper pilot? I can fly, but I want to concentrate on the ground."

  "I can fly the helicopter," Fenster said. "But it's no use. We wouldn't see a damned thing out there. It's too dark."

  "You run a curious security operation here, Fenster."

  "I don't have to take that, Carter. Not from you or anyone else. If you want my resignation, you have it. Otherwise, I'll take you over to Natu Faui in the morning. Only that won't do you much good. We've tried it before."

  The man was probably right, Carter thought. The damage had already been done. There was very little to be done about it tonight. In the morning he would go over to the island. One way or another he was going to get to the bottom of this. And very quickly.

  He turned to Owen. "Where is your crypto section?"

  "Crypto?" Owen asked.

  "Your comm center. I have to talk with Washington this morning."

  "If you want my resignation, you can have it here and now. You don't have to complain to Washington."

  "Shut up, Fenster," Carter snapped. "If and when I want your resignation, you'll be the first to know, I assure you."

  "This isn't going to help us," Owen said wearily. "We have at least four men dead, another dozen wounded."

  "Six," Carter said. He told Owen about the two techs by the generator sheds.