Eighth Card Stud

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Eighth Card Stud Page 9

by Nick Carter


  She broke down, crying bitter tears into my shoulder again. I didn't have the time to waste on her runaway emotions. I shook her so hard her teeth rattled.

  "Quiet! I got rid of the two following us, but there are others back there. Possibly an army of them. But if we hurry, we can get away before they miss those two."

  "You have one of their rifles," she said, her mind still unable to come to grips with the situation.

  "Never leave a weapon behind. Or ammunition," I said. "Better to use their own guns against them than to leave the discarded guns where they fall." I didn't bother telling her how I'd come to possess the M-16 and the two clips of ammunition. Marta drifted in a limbo of shock. I should never have allowed her to come along, but I hadn't thought the going would get this rough.

  "We can find a cave in the mountains," she said, her mind jumping from topic to topic. "We can barricade the opening and you can use the rifle to hold them off until help comes."

  "A good idea," I said. "Show me this cave." I didn't want to burden her with the idea that the Seventh Cavalry wasn't likely to come trotting up at the last instant to rescue us. That happened in the movies, but all too seldom in real life to be counted on as a likely solution to our problem. Still, I felt confident now that we'd manage to elude the others behind us.

  I watched the diamond-hard points of stars in the constellations overhead wheel around the heavens. Every footstep weighed a ton, and the distance we actually walked amounted to less and less. I ended up carrying Marta in a fireman's carry, the rifle held in my right hand for immediate use. The mountains surrounded us as I hiked through a low pass. Behind lay the slopes containing our wrecked car and the carnage left by the firefight. Ahead was the easternmost edge of the Eighth Card test range. I had vague memories of Marta saying this part was used for some sort of solar power equipment, though I hadn't paid much attention at the time. It hadn't seemed important.

  Finding a cave in the rocky hills proved easier than I'd thought. I put Marta down, my jacket pillowing her head from the hard rock. She slept or had gone into a coma, I didn't know which. Bone-tired, I sat with my back against a large boulder and studied the terrain below. No movement betrayed trackers, but that meant nothing. In top form, I could have walked up the side of the hill in broad daylight and not been seen. The men intent on eliminating us might not be as skillful, but I didn't want to bet on that.

  I dozed off, only to come awake, gun in firing position, when Marta sneezed. Looking at the woman did things to me, but this was neither the time nor the place.

  "You awake?" I asked.

  "Hmmm, yeah, I guess so," she mumbled sleepily. "What's happened? I remember being in the arroyo and stumbling. You said something and then, nothing."

  I told her about the all-night trek to get here. Less than an hour before sunrise, the heavens were still unsure whether to retain the velvet blackness of night or to assume the brilliant blue mantle of the daytime desert sky. With little vegetation to retain the heat throughout the night or to absorb it during the sunny day, the temperature extremes were surprisingly great. The difference between night and day felt greater than the difference between summer and winter in Southern California. The desert wasn't the sort of place where I wanted my bones bleached in the day and frozen solid at night.

  "We've got to keep moving, or they'll eventually find us," I told Marta.

  "Maybe they've given up."

  "Doubtful. They want us — bad. They didn't seem the types to easily quit, either. If we can make the solar power station beyond the next rise, we might be able to find a telephone. I can call my superiors and take care of matters in a hurry."

  "You're sure Sutter's the one?"

  "I was until I overheard two of them talking." I didn't mention I had killed them. "They were frightened of a woman. They obviously took their orders directly from her, but they didn't mention her name."

  "A woman?" mused Marta. "I couldn't guess who it might be. The only woman working on the project is Rich's assistant, Anne Roxbury. I couldn't imagine her being the mastermind behind any espionage plot."

  "I agree." I shifted position and straightened out cramped legs. "She's even more unlikely a suspect than Sutter, but he…" I cut off in midsentence. The gleam of a flashlight had alerted me to a man less than a hundred yards downhill. "Back into the cave."

  "But there might be snakes."

  "They'll be slow moving in this cold," I said. "The men down there are anything but slow, and their bullets are mighty hot."

  I steadied the M-16 in the palm of my left hand, bracing my body against a large boulder. Squeezing the trigger gently, I felt the gun buck slightly, a brass cartridge sailing off to my right. The clatter of the spent brass was almost as loud as the cry coming from the lips of my target. I watched him roll down the hill, dead.

  The air above my head exploded, rock fragments stinging the back of my neck. A fusillade of bullets from a dozen rifles shattered the stillness of the night. I saw the muzzle flashes like dozens of poisonous flowers blooming orange and deadly.

  I fired with deliberation, picking each target carefully. Perhaps one bullet in five found flesh. Not enough. The clip emptied, I ejected it and slammed in the other one taken off the dead body of an earlier stalker.

  "We're in a tight fix, Marta," I said. "There are too many of them. I want you to get away. Get to the solar power station and call the base Security Police. I'll try to give you enough covering fire so they won't notice you're gone."

  "I won't leave you, Nick."

  "If you don't, we'll both be corpses before sunrise. This is our only chance. When the sun comes up, they'll be able to see clearly and box us in. We won't have a ghost of a chance then. But now…" I let my voice trail off, wanting her to make the decision on her own — as long as it was the right one.

  "Alright, Nick, I'll do it."

  I kissed her quickly, then hefted the M-16. "I knew you would. Get ready, now, go!"

  I fired faster, the slugs kicking up dancing spires of dust in front of a half dozen riflemen. I heard a rumble and felt a small cascade of rocks against my back. Her scrambling feet had dislodged the stones. I continued my blistering barrage until the slide locked open, the last round fired. I tossed the useless rifle aside and pulled out my faithful Wilhelmina. The feel of the butt in my hand was almost sensual, the action strong and precise as shell after shell fired. More of those 9mm rounds found targets than had the ones I'd fired through the.223 M-16. This Luger P.08 might have been around since 1908 but it was reliable enough to bring down target after target at a hundred yards.

  All good things must end. I ran out of ammunition and left Wilhelmina hungering for more. Holstering the gun, I pulled out Hugo and tried to do a sneak to my right along the side of the mountain. It didn't work.

  I found tiny puffs of dirt and rock marking a boundary I couldn't cross. The bullets came close enough to tell me that I might have perished, but they weren't ready to kill — yet. I stopped, slid Hugo into his sheath, and straightened up, arms over my head. It was time to see if my surrender tactic worked this time.

  "Okay, you've got me!" I called out. "Don't shoot."

  The way the men came after me was impressive. Alternate echelon formation, half always covering the advance of the other half, they moved quickly, efficiently up the slope. A ring of death-giving M-16 bores assured my continued cooperation. I saw no way in hell of either fighting back or eluding my captors. All I had left was talk.

  "Where to, my good friends?" I said cheerfully. If one would anger, a slim chance existed for a quick fight, a new rifle, and a few extra shots fired. None of the men moved. "What about it, you sons of bitches? Don't you do anything without your nursemaid telling you?" Not even a flicker of muscle betrayed these men. They were hard, competent, deadly.

  "Mr. Nick Carter, do not think to enrage my men. They rise above your puny taunts."

  The use of my name, as well as the soft, oily-smooth female voice swung me around. Uphill stood a w
oman dressed in an iridescent green Oriental-style gown. Her face remained in shadow as she carefully made her way down the side of the hill. Each tiny foot precisely located the most solid spot before moving to the next, lower rock. When she stood in front of me, I saw she was barely five feet tall.

  My mind seethed as I tried to match the delicately boned Oriental face, those sloping almond-shaped eyes, and the patrician nose with a picture in an AXE dossier I had happened across a long time ago during an enemy agent orientation session.

  "You do not recognize me, N3?" she said sibilantly, a smirk marring the perfection of her face.

  "How can I forget Madame Lin, the foremost of our People's Republic of China friends?"

  "Very good, Mr. Carter," she congratulated. "Your memory serves you well. It is a pity such brilliance must be snuffed out like a candle flame in a typhoon."

  "Why is that? Because I have evidence that the sabotage on Project Eighth Card can be laid directly at the doorstep of the Social Affairs Department?"

  "You surmise that because of my presence, Mr. Carter. My organization has been most thorough in covering any hint that this is a Chinese mission."

  "That's not true, Madame Lin," I said, stalling for time. If Marta reached the solar power station, the SPs could arrive in less than ten minutes. I had to stay alive at least that long. "My investigation — and simple logic — told me the Chinese were responsible for Eighth Card's problems."

  "Indeed?" Madame Lin said, smiling benignly. I didn't let her innocent appearance fool me. I knew her For a cold-blooded killer who stopped at nothing to further her country's aims — if those aims happened to coincide with her own.

  "Sure," I said, bravado tingeing my words. "The Russians appeared the odds-on favorites for sabotage at first. They have the nuclear delivery edge, in spite of our Trident submarines. They could knock out every single land-based launch site and, since they have numerical superiority on us, continue to blast away until all the U.S. glowed a radioactive blue. But that edge vanishes if Eighth Card develops a potent anti-ICBV laser cannon."

  "Your superiority with the Trident submarine is evanescent, too," said Madame Lin. "Our Soviet comrades are working on a computer capable of listening to undersea noises, sorting out the natural from the artificial and pinpointing even the most quiet of submarines. Coupled with their satellite observations, you are most vulnerable."

  "That's what gave you away," I said, sweat beading on my forehead. She remained implacable, unyielding. I fenced verbally for some slight advantage and found none. "You shouldn't have knocked down the Russian spy satellite. For the small leverage that gave the Russians in the SALT negotiations, it hardly seemed worth it."

  "I have been advised that the destruction of that satellite was of paramount importance, Mr. Carter. It spied on our troop movements through Manchuria to the Amur River. A quick drive to the sea will yield much valuable land, including the town of Vladivostok. Of itself, the city is unimportant. Psychologically its loss will greatly demoralize the Soviets."

  "You couldn't attempt such a massive land grab unless the Russians were busy elsewhere, like fighting an all-out atomic war with the United States."

  "You have discerned the salient points of my strategy, Mr. Carter. I commend you."

  I wanted to glance at my wristwatch to see how long Marta had been gone. It seemed an eternity, but I thought it must be closer to fifteen minutes. Any time now the SPs would arrive.

  "It is cold out, Mr. Carter, and yet you sweat profusely. Could it be that you find my presence disconcerting?"

  "I hadn't expected to find China's top field agent out in the middle of the New Mexico desert. I suppose you were responsible for Burlison's death."

  "An unfortunate mistake, that," Madame Lin said, her voice carrying mock sympathy. "His death wasn't required for another few months. If he had been like the other scientists and remained in the observation bunker, the high power switching device that allows the laser to fire repeatedly in very short periods of time would have been stolen. He blundered across our agent as he worked on the carriage of the laser, trying to remove the switch. The magnitude of the error is shown by your presence, Mr. Carter. AXE only sends its top agents when requested by the President of the United States. This is a mark of distinction for me, N3. I pit myself against your country's best. I admit it required elaborate ruses to capture you, ruses that would otherwise have been unnecessary."

  "Doesn't the mutual trade pact and the diplomatic recognition between China and the U.S. mean anything?" I asked. "We are treating fairly with you. Why does the Social Affairs Department still send spies into America?"

  Madame Lin chuckled softly. "Mr. Carter, I am not the naive fool you take me for. The spying between our countries has not diminished because of this new era of camaraderie. Rather, it has intensified. More spies clog up the T'ien An Men Square than ever. We find them posing as repairmen working on the Forbidden City. They lay brick along the Great Wall. They work in junks in Shanghai harbor. Everywhere we find them, drinking Coca-Cola and spying on us. We only reciprocate. New freedoms mean greater opportunities for learning, is that not so?"

  I remained silent. I had no way of knowing if she spoke the truth. It did have the ring of sincerity, however, and it sounded like the type of foreign policy the U.S. had been pursuing since World War II.

  "You appear distraught, Mr. Carter. Could it be you await the return of the dark-haired woman?"

  I retained my outward icy calm. Madame Lin enjoyed toying with me, just as a cat plays with a trapped mouse.

  "Oh, yes, Mr. Carter. She was captured less than five minutes after she left the safety of your little fortress in the mountainside. My assistants have taken her to the solar power station. Please accompany me to that area. I think you will find the experimental setup most enlightening."

  With five cold rifle muzzles poking into my back and sides, I could only agree.

  "You're a gracious hostess, Madame Lin. May many guests always reside in your home."

  "You have mastered the art of the Chinese curse, Mr. Carter. I assure you that you will live in interesting times for the remainder of your life."

  She spun and went up the side of the hill as swiftly as a gazelle, but with none of the bouncing. She glided like a ghost, her legs and feet hidden by the hem of her brilliant green dress. Tired, I scrambled up the mountainside after her as best I could. Using the time to assess my chances of escape, I decided to wait for a while. Wilhelmina was empty and only Hugo remained as a positive factor on my side of the equation. He would have to be used as a last resort.

  Besides, I had to find out if Madame Lin had lied about capturing Marta. Deep down inside I knew the Oriental never lied when she could inflict even a small psychic wound on an enemy with the truth.

  Cresting the hill, I stared across the brown expanse of desert. A false dawn turned the eastern sky into a dull gray flecked with pink patches of clouds. The wind that had chewed through to my bones all night long had died down to a gentle whisper. All around me the animals began to stir, hunting and being hunted. I identified more with the prey than the predator at the moment.

  "Do you see the tall structure, Mr. Carter? That is known as a power tower. Surrounding it for several acres on the north are Fresnel lenses that track the sun, hoard every single ray of light, then concentrate and reflect a beam on one small portion of the tower. A huge boiler is placed at the focus, steam is generated, and turbines spin. Electricity is manufactured. Let us examine this marvel of your science more closely."

  Madame Lin gracefully climbed into a four-wheel-drive jeep and motioned me to join her. It would have been cozy except for the M-16 resting against the back of my neck, ready to fire through my brain if I made a false move.

  The driver expertly took the turns down the side of the mountain. Although he jostled us repeatedly, he retained complete control. We made good time to the power tower, as Madame Lin had called it. The structure rose upward more than twelve stories. From the d
istant mountaintop, it hadn't seemed this large. I chalked up the deceptive size to the clear desert air and the lack of any other structure to use as a comparison.

  "Elevators will take us to the top, Mr. Carter," Madame Lin said. "Up there Mrs. Burlison awaits us."

  The sound of her laughter grated on my ears like fingernails across a chalkboard. My guards shoved me into the elevator where another of the Oriental's men worked the controls. He had broken through the exterior panel and had crossed wires inside, for what purpose I couldn't guess. I had the dreadful premonition I would find out all too soon. Madame Lin wasn't the type to expend effort needlessly.

  The speed of the elevator caused my knees to buckle slightly. I still hadn't recovered fully from the nightlong chase through the desert. I kept a keen lookout for an opening. Hugo still rested in position and could kill in a split second, but the guards were too attentive. Three of them watched me at all times.

  "Here we are, Mr. Carter. The top of the world, one small step away from the sun!"

  Dawn brightened the horizon. Twelve stories below my feet motors purred and moved the giant lenses toward the spot where the sun would appear. The mirrors behind the massive lenses all pointed directly at the spot where I stood.

  "Yes, Mr. Carter, "said Madame Lin. "In less than fifteen minutes this entire area will be bathed in the loving rays of the sun, but concentrated a million-fold. A temperature of over one thousand degrees Fahrenheit will push the fluids inside this vessel past their boiling point. But you will not care about that. You and your meddling friend will long since have been reduced to powdery ash."

  I kicked backward, my foot smashing squarely into the guard's kneecap. I felt the sick crunch but I was already spinning to one side, not gloating. A fist drove into the side of my head, but I ignored the flash of stunned pain and kicked out again. This guard collapsed in a pile of pain, his groin ruined forever. The third guard used his rifle butt to drive me to my knees, but it was Madame Lin herself who stopped my abortive escape.

  A small pistol pointed directly at my head, but that barrel looked as large as a firehose to me.

 

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