Eighth Card Stud

by Nick Carter

  I kicked out with my feet and heaved upward as if pressing a million pounds. The door swung out enough for me to get under. Never in my life have I hurried more. The sharp metallic edge scrapped my chest, my belly, my upper legs, and then I scooted free from under the door. Marta relaxed and gustily sighed.

  I couldn't do anything but lie in the dirt panting, my heart pounding fiercely.

  "You did good, Marta," I finally said. "But there's still more to do. Where'd George park his car? We've got to check it out to see if the laser switching device is there."

  "Over in that direction, I think," she said, trembling with the strain of all she'd been through. I wanted to comfort her but didn't have the time to waste. She was a big girl; she'd be okay without the soothing words.

  I took off at a run, dragging out the automatic stuffed under my belt and making sure it was ready for action. A dark shape loomed ahead. I slowed my headlong pace and dropped down, wriggling forward on my belly.

  My prudence saved my life. I made a slight noise. This aroused someone in the backseat of the car who rose, trained a rifle, and began firing wildly. I squeezed off three quick shots to silence him permanently. Another shadow came around the front of the car. Two more shots dispatched him. The slide of my automatic stayed open after the last shot. I tossed the empty gun aside and pulled out my faithful Wilhelmina as I crouched next to the car. Listening until my ears ached, I heard nothing but the distant surf pounding against the beach and the occasional whine of the wind as it idly moved the thick blankets of fog to and fro.

  I peered up over the edge of the car door. Nothing. I moved cautiously but with all possible speed. I checked out the car, finding a small cut in the rear seat, the cushion stuffing pulled out. The space remaining was just the right size for the laser switching device. Madame Lin had found it first.

  "Damn," I said, "we're too late."

  "I'm sorry, Nick, I really am!" Marta cried. "I held you up. I kept you back. It's all my fault."

  I hardly heard her. This wasn't the time for placing blame, it was time for thinking. A mournful foghorn sounded once, twice, three times. The thick veils of fog parted enough for me to see the freighter a half mile off the coast.

  "That's it!" I shouted. "Madame Lin's heading for that ship. They've just given her the signal. To the beach. Hurry, dammit, hurry!" I pulled her along behind me like a captive balloon. We jogged to a bluff overlooking a sandy spit fifty feet below. A dark, huddle mass of men pushed against a rubber raft, trying to get it into the churning, boiling surf.

  "See them down there?" I asked Marta. Seeing her nod, I said, "Start shooting at them. Just like you're on a firing range. Slow, deliberate firing, trying to center each round. I want you to keep them from getting away."

  "What are you going to do, Nick?"

  "I'm going to get down there fast. Now start firing!"

  I had given her the rifle taken from the dead man in the backseat of George's car. I didn't wait to see if she'd obey. I hurtled down the winding, narrow path along the face of the cliff. My feet grew wings; I felt as if I flew like Mercury. The salt air gushed into my lungs and wiped away the aching tiredness I'd felt earlier. Power flowed into me, and I barely kept my footing on the steep path in my haste to get to the beach. The echoes of Malta's shots told me she was doing just as she'd been told. Some of the DIA training had stuck.

  Hitting the beach, I found myself the target of four different machine guns. It bothered me hardly more than a mosquito buzzing around my ears. I squeezed off round after round, Wilhelmina finding homes for each lead slug. The machine guns stopped firing. I felt invincible now.

  "Don't shoot!" cried the remaining crewman beside the rubber raft. "I'm not armed!"

  His hands flatted on top of his head. I almost believed him because of the storm cloud of anger on Madame Lin's face. She obviously exhorted him to get the raft into the choppy water and try paddling for the distant ship. I judged the freighter had anchored at least three hundred yards offshore. The shifting layers of fog tended to destroy my depth perception, though. However far the ship was, the crewman obviously figured he'd never make it.

  "So, Mr. Carter, it appears you have persisted and won. You are a trial for me."

  I had to keep reminding myself this lovely woman was ruthless and had attempted to murder me repeatedly, in the most gruesome fashions possible. My Luger centered on her. The crewman was only a pawn in this game, and I had just checked the queen.

  "The box," I said.

  "You have a disconcertingly one-track mind, Mr. Carter," she said, her voice still as silken-smooth as when she had informed me I would be left in the room with the ravenous rats. "I will deal with you. Every man has his price. I can make life much more enjoyable for you — in many ways. Together, the two of us might unlock all the Gates of Paradise. Not all my training has been in ways of death."

  "I don't doubt that, but I'm not interested."

  "Ah, you Americans. That Puritan work ethic intrudes in so many ways. It deprives you of real living."

  "No," I said. "Simple patriotism's responsible for the refusal. You don't hear much about it these days, but it still exists. My country needs that laser switch. And I'm going to take it."

  "Here it is, Mr. Carter." She tossed the black box into the sand at my feet. Kneeling down, never allowing my eyes to leave her, I picked up the switching device and forced my fingers under one of the metal sides. Gritting my teeth, I ripped back the cover to expose the delicate insides. The frangible glass gleamed whitely in the dull light and complex printed circuits etched onto the glass confused my mind with their deviousness.

  Then it happened.

  Faster than thought, Madame Lin pivoted, whirled out one of the damned surgical steel-edged fans of hers, and sent it spinning through the air. I barely managed to block that vicious attack, her fan knocking Wilhelmina into the sand.

  "Now, Mr. Carter," she said softly, "we shall see who has the upper hand." She circled, another fan flashing menacingly.

  Hugo leaped into my hand and buried hilt-deep in the crewman, who had finally come out of his shocked inaction and had tried to dive for my Luger. He rolled over and over, clutching his belly. I ignored him. He was completely out of the game. Only Madame Lin remained.

  "Give it up," I said. "You're beaten. I have the switching device and you don't have anything."

  "I still live. I can get another prototype from other Edward George. Many of your scientists are vulnerable to my wiles. I will find them and exploit their weaknesses."

  She continued to circle, the fan moving in a hypnotic figure eight pattern. She struck with the speed of a cobra. The fan slashed out, closed and then jabbed straight for my face. I parried with Hugo, feeling the clash of metal on metal, then grabbed her slender wrist. I squeezed hard, trying to crush fragile bones. My strength wasn't what it should be. I turned the bone-crushing grip into an arc that sent the woman tumbling onto the sand.

  Before I could finish her off with my knife, hands fumbled at my ankles. I fell forward heavily, twisting. The man I had stabbed in the belly still fought weakly, as if trying to make up for his earlier cowardice. He was more dead than alive, but I had to deal with him.

  It took longer than I'd thought it would. He refused to give up, perhaps knowing death was close and fearing it. When I stood, the bloody knife dripping in my hand, Madame Lin had gone. She had pushed the rubber raft into the murky black waters lapping against the beach and was now paddling furiously for the ship.

  I estimated my chances of swimming in the icy water and overtaking her. In my weakened condition, she would be able to fight me off easily, even if I managed to battle the Pacific Ocean successfully and reach the raft. I searched the scuffled sand, found Wilhelmina, checked the action to be sure no sand had entered, then sighted, holding the Luger in both hands.

  The iridescent green of Madame Lin's dress centered in my sights. I fired. I saw her slump forward. I lowered my sights to the edge of the rubber raft. I fired
again. A hissing louder even than the surf sounded. I kept firing at the raft until Wilhelmina's slide locked back, no more bullets in her clip.

  The raft spun around and around, then went down into the cold Pacific waters. I waited, one of the fallen machine guns in my hand. No head bobbed, swimming for the ship. I don't remember how long I stood there watching, waiting, making certain Madame Lin was dead. The mournful hoot of the ship's horn sounded like a dirge. The crew weighed anchor, and the ship vanished into the gray cloak of the fog.

  Still there was no sign of Madame Lin. Finally, she had met her fate. I knew I should have felt elation at defeating such a cunning and powerful enemy. All that remained in me were aches, pains, and a need to sleep for a week.

  The silver speck appeared in the clear, blue sky over the desert. It shimmered and danced until the dull hum of a jet engine could be heard. Then the sky exploded with eye-searing fury. Over and over and over that deadly lance of coherent light lashed out at the target, slashing and cutting until only tiny fragments were left to rain down on the parched ground.

  "Look, up high. Can you see it?"

  I squinted in the direction Dr. Sutter pointed. I saw a momentary flare as the rocket high over our heads reentered the atmosphere. Then it was blotted out by the deadly surge of the laser. The tiny flare of friction from the atmosphere was swallowed in the cataclysm caused at the fringes of the ionosphere. The laser cannon continued to buzz and hum to itself, still ready to lash out with its death-dealing power.

  "There won't be any problems with the Russian ICBMs?" I asked.

  Sutter smirked, the first time I'd seen him this smug.

  "None whatsoever. The Russians are advanced in many things. Electronic Counter-Measures and now anti-ICBM systems, bah! They can't possibly slip anything past that." He pointed to the Eighth Card laser. The pride in his voice was reward enough for me.

  Hawk came over with Martha Burlison and said, "You can be proud, Or. Sutter. A good test. A Good weapon."

  "Thanks," said the portly scientist, not really listening. He was already drifting away to check dials and instrument readings. We watched him go, a man riding the euphoria of a successfully complete project.

  "What about Dr. Sutter's drinking and gambling?" asked Marta. "Is that going to be swept under the rug?"

  "No," said Hawk slowly. "We have recommended a long vacation for Dr. Sutter in Long Beach. A man of his talents shouldn't be wasted. He will be… rehabilitated."

  Marta nodded, the sunlight reflecting off her jet black hair and making her appear more beautiful than ever. I felt a lump in my throat just looking at her.

  "Uh, Mr. Hawk, could I speak with Nick in private?"

  Hawk gave me a knowing wink, then turned and followed Sutter into the control bunker.

  "Let's walk a bit, Nick," she said. "I want to talk. About us."

  "What about us?" I asked. I didn't think I could put my feelings into order. We had been close, very close. I'd been attracted to other women, but seldom in the way I was to Marta Burlison. In my business that was bad. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear what she had to say. It might end up being painful for both of us.

  "I don't know how to say this, Nick, so I'll come right out with it. I love you, I love you very much." My heart almost stopped beating when I heard those words. "But," she continued quickly, her eyes downcast, "I want to go off by myself. For a while, at least. I… I've got to set things right in my head. I've been so caught up in all this intrigue that I haven't had a chance to properly mourn Richard's death."

  "I know what you're going through," I said softly.

  "No, Nick, you don't," she said with feeling. "You can't know. Your job is all-important to you. Maybe that's best for all of us, everyone in the United States. But it's not what I need or want. I quit the intelligence community because of the problems. I love you — but I can't bear the thought that you'll be out there somewhere getting shot at all the time. I need the time to mourn and I doubt if I'll come back to you."

  "I said I understand, Marta, and I do. Really."

  "Really?" she asked, her eyes lifting to mine.

  I kissed her gently. She broke off, smiled at me, and then turned and ran. I watched her go, a hollowness inside me. What she did was for the best. I knew that, but it still hurt.

  I stood looking out over the desert, waiting for sunset. The orange and yellow clouds convinced me that there was other beauty in the world. My thoughts soon turned back to Las Vegas and my interrupted vacation. I walked off briskly, wanting to get back to the serious job of relaxing so I could forget my job — and Marta.