by Nick Carter
And I wondered if it was Selim who had made the decision to kill Drummond as he'd no doubt ordered my execution and Fayeh's. He certainly had a motive, as Thinman had pointed out, if Maspero had been his cousin.
'I needed the girl to get in touch with you,' I said.
'And that is for what purpose?' the head on the left of Bovet asked. A Sicilian accent, I noted; this was Mazzini. Which meant it was the lieutenant Reynaldo who was missing.
'John Drummond never did get his attaché case back,' I said. 'There was something in the case that is very important to the security of the United States government.'
El Bekri barked a short laugh.
Bovet was more civilized. 'The last of our concerns, Mr Carter, is the welfare of the American government.'
'As I told your man at Giza, I have money to pay for the return of the case and its contents,' I said. 'A lot of money.'
Bovet was silent a moment. When he spoke again his manner was cautious. 'And if we had this case, exactly what item of its contents would be so important to you?'
I kept my face blank, but I was surprised. Did that question mean they hadn't found the microfilm? 'If you have the case, you must know the answer to that,' I parried.
'If you wish to play games, you came to the wrong address,' Bovet told me coldly.
I was beginning to think he really didn't know what I was after. He could have the case, of course, without having found the film. It was just possible.
'All right,' I said. 'I'll tell you, because if you have the case you'll find it eventually anyway. It's a microfilm of stolen documents. It's hidden in the handle of a safety razor.'
There was another silence, this time longer. I suddenly had a hunch that Bovet did not know what I was talking about. That, or he was putting on an act because he had already sold the film back to the Russians. Or to the Chicoms.
'We do not have the case,' Bovet said finally. 'We had no idea it had any value when the switch occurred and so the case was disposed of.'
I swallowed hard. If that were true, the Novigrom I plans were lost to us. But how could I be sure?
'How?' I asked. 'How was the case disposed of?
Bovet turned to Mazzini and their silhouettes touched briefly behind the lights. Then Bovet turned back to me. 'We believe the case is at the bottom of the Nile,' he said. 'It is unfortunate we were not able to do business.'
I slumped in the chair. Whether Bovet was lying or not, this was a bad development. 'Yes,' I said. 'It's too bad.'
There was a silence. I heard feet shuffling behind me, impatient. Finally Bovet said: 'Mr Carter, I had hoped that somehow there might be a mutual profit in this meeting. Since there is not, you present a small problem for me.'
There was a grunt from el Bekri.
I guessed what Bovet had on his mind. 'I'm no danger to you,' I said. 'Your men blindfolded me to bring me here. And your faces are hidden to me.'
'Nevertheless, you are a clever man, Mr Carter. You must have absorbed information that can only be detrimental to us. Frankly, I can see no reason why I should let you leave here alive.'
This was what I had been afraid of. With no deal possible between us, Bovet had classified me as expendable. I reached into my shirt and produced the small detonating device. Two men behind me moved forward with guns and the shadow of Mazzini rose from the table.
'Perhaps this might be a reason,' I told Bovet.
One of the gunmen moved in on me. I held the instrument out away from me, showing them the buttons. 'I'd tell him to keep back if I were you!' I said loudly.
Bovet waved the man away. He leaned forward at the table. 'What is that you have there, Mr Carter? Some clever American gadget?'
'You might call it that,' I said. 'But it's a simple explosive device really. A very high-powered one. If I push this button, we all go up along with the entire building.'
There was a murmur from the three at the table.
'I think you are bluffing,' Bovet said at last. 'You would be the first to die.'
'Isn't that what you have in mind for me anyway? No, it's not a bluff, Bovet. I'll show you the explosives if you want me to.'
A brief hesitation, then: 'That will not be necessary, Mr Carter. I believe you are just the kind of man who would turn himself into a human bomb out of mistaken idealism. Put your guns away, gentlemen.'
The men behind me holstered their weapons. Mazzini sat down again, very slowly, behind the table. I rose just as slowly from my chair, holding the small control box out in front where they all could see it.
'I'll go to the car with one man,' I told Bovet. This one here.' I pointed to the man who had brought me upstairs. 'You may cover the car windows in advance. I will sit facing the rear of the car until we hit the boulevard.'
Bovet rose from the table. His voice sounded strained. 'That is acceptable. Take him away.'
After the driver of the big Mercedes dropped me off at my hotel, I walked over to the balustrade along the Nile. Here I disarmed the explosive device and dropped the whole apparatus into the river. I would have no further use for it. I had already returned Hugo to his sheath. I had insisted on the stiletto's return when I left the New Brotherhood headquarters.
The hotel was quiet at that time of night. I picked up my key at the front desk and took the elevator up to my room, feeling empty and frustrated. When I unlocked the door, I had a surprise waiting for me.
The blow struck the back of my head before I could get the light switched on. I dropped to my hands and knees, and a kick caught me in my left side, knocking me over. I lay there groaning — and thinking that the kick had been delivered by a second man. Two against one.
When the foot came at me again, I grabbed it and twisted. Its owner bellowed and fell heavily to the floor on his back. I glimpsed his face in the light from the open door. He was an Arab. I assumed the other man was too. He now grabbed me from behind, one hand clasped over my face, pulling me backwards to the floor. I let him-then turned over, bringing my feet up over my head and kicking straight back. I heard a muffled yell and my attacker let go. I jumped to my feet, letting Hugo drop into my hand. Now I was ready for him.
'All right, Carter. That's an end of it.'
The voice came from near the light switch. I turned just as the light came on, revealing a third man. He was no Arab. He was tall, muscular, with a square face and blondish hair. He stood smiling slightly, holding a Mauser 7.65 Parabellum automatic aimed at my chest.
'Well, I'll be damned,' I said. 'Yuri Lyalin. First Kam Fong at dinner and you now in my room. It's great to have the old gang together again,' I added sarcastically.
Lyalin widened the smile a bit. He was a formidable opponent, one of the KGB's best. After spending a short time in KGB headquarters at Dzerzhinsky Square in Moscow and receiving a lot of respectful attention as a relative of General Serafim Lyalin, head of KGB's code-breaking department, Yuri had volunteered for the Mokri Dela section, which the Russians nicknamed 'Wet Affairs'. Wet meant bloody, and Lyalin had never been one to be bothered by the sight of blood. I had found that out in Hong Kong on another assignment.
'I could almost like you, Nick,' he said now in his arrogant way, 'if you were a Russian.' He motioned to one of the Arabs to close the door.
'If you were an American,' I said, 'I'm not sure my opinion of you would change much.'
The smile dissolved, but his face revealed no emotion otherwise. He was cool, and he was good. 'Your people should not have stolen the Novigrom plans,' he said evenly. 'It has all been wasted energy and life for you. We will recover the film shortly and all this will have been for nothing.'
'You win some, you lose some,' I said.
One of the Arabs, a stocky, potato-faced character, moved over and took the stiletto from me and threw it into a corner.
'You apparently found the film in the possession of the underworld,' Lyalin continued. 'Did you buy it back from them?'
I hesitated. If Lyalin had to ask, in all probability he had not
been approached about buying the film. 'They didn't have it,' I said. 'At least, they said they didn't.'
His cold gray eyes narrowed. 'I don't think I believe you,' he said.
I glanced around the room. They had turned the place upside down already. 'It's the truth,' I said.
'We shall see,' Lyalin motioned to the two Arabs. 'Search him.'
There was nothing to do but oblige him. The stocky Arab grabbed me from behind roughly. The slimmer Arab, a younger man with a hawk nose, frisked me quickly. He emptied my pockets, then made me remove my shirt and shoes. The shoes were examined carefully.
'He does not appear to have the film,' the slim Arab told Lyalin.
The Russian grunted. 'I think you have hidden the film somewhere, Carter. Where?'
'I told you — I don't have it,' I said.
The gun never shifted aim from my chest while Lyalin's eyes studied mine. I found myself wondering how he had known I was in Cairo. And how he knew I had gone to the New Brotherhood.
'Tie him to that chair,' Lyalin told his hired hands. He indicated a straight chair in the corner of the room.
'This is ridiculous,' I said.
But they brought the chair and tied me securely to it, my hands in back of me. Lyalin holstered the big automatic and moved over to me. He got another chair and straddled it, placing it to face me.
'Are you sure you don't want to tell us something?' he asked.
Lyalin wasn't bluffing. He was going to make me talk. But I couldn't, because I had nothing to tell him. Now we would get into the bloody Wet Affairs bit.
'Go to hell,' I said.
His face hardened. He motioned to the Arabs. The young one clapped his hands on my shoulders, apparently to keep the chair from falling over. The husky one came and stood very close to me. He had pulled a length of rubber hose from his jacket. Now, at a signal from Lyalin, he brought it down across my head and face.
The impact snapped my head to the right. The skin broke on my cheek and blood ran.
A burning ache rocketed along into my neck.
The hose came down again, on the other side of my head. This time the shock was greater and I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness for a moment. But Lyalin didn't want that to happen. The Arab slapped me and I came around.
'Don't be foolish, Carter,' Lyalin said. 'Every man has his breaking point. As a professional, you are aware of that simple truth. So why prove to us how much you can take? What is the logic of it?'
I glared at him. As Kam Fong had almost killed me in the Congo, so I had had a shot at Lyalin in Hong Kong. I wished now I'd put a 9 mm slug through his KGB heart.
The hose descended another time, across my neck and head. I saw bright lights in my head, heard a loud yell. The yell was coming from me. Then blackness swam in.
Cold water hit me in the face. The coldness reached down into me, jerked me back to life. I opened my eyes and I saw three Lyalins standing before me. Three hands held my head up.
'Listen, for a smart man, you are being extremely foolish.' The voice echoed in my head.
The heavy Arab moved around to where I could see him. All three of him. He was holding something in his hand and I tried to focus on the triple image. It looked like some kind of pliers.
'Let me continue with this,' he said softly to Lyalin. 'He will beg to tell us when I am finished. It is a fine tool. It can pull teeth, tear flesh, break and smash bone. I will show you on his nose.'
He put the pliers to my face. Somewhere I found the strength to call him an ugly name. I focused — tried to focus — on Lyalin.
'You're a fool, Lyalin,' I said hoarsely. 'I'm telling the truth. They didn't give me the goddam film.'
The Arab with the pliers grabbed me by the hair. 'On second thought, perhaps we should break off a few teeth first?' he suggested. His face told me he was going to enjoy the mutilation.
'Just a moment,' Yuri Lyalin said.
The Arab looked at him.
'Perhaps Mr Carter is telling the truth after all.'
'He is lying! I can see it in his eyes,' the stocky Arab protested.
'Maybe. But I am going to assume otherwise, for the moment,' Lyalin said. He waved his two pals away. They retreated to a position near the bed.
Lyalin leaned close to me. 'The KGB is after all a civilized organization. We do not wish to harm anyone unnecessarily. Not even our enemies.'
He was a double image now, but even so I could see the cold calculation in his face. I knew what he had decided. He guessed that I did not have the film but hoped that I might somehow lead him to it. And there was always the chance I did have the film but had stashed it somewhere.
'Whoever said the KGB isn't civilized?' I said through my swollen lips.
He smiled his stiff smile. 'Untie him,' he ordered.
The big Arab wouldn't move. The other one came reluctantly and untied me. Lyalin stood up.
'Since I have spared your life,' he said, 'it is only right for you to abandon this dangerous game AXE has devised for you and give up on the Novigrom plans.'
I just looked at him. Imagine an idiotic statement like that from another professional! He knew I would not give up the assignment, and I knew he knew.
'Goodbye for now, Nick. Perhaps our paths shall cross again, yes? If so, remember that you owe me one.'
Another idiotic remark. I had expected more of Lyalin. 'Oh, I won't forget this for a long, long time,' I said honestly.
I thought I saw the trace of a grin on his face as he turned and left the room, his two murderous pals right on his heels.
Six
We cruised slowly down the dark street in the rented Fiat 850 Spider, Fayeh at the wheel. We were trying to get a clue to the location of the New Brotherhood headquarters. I was not at all convinced that Bovet had been leveling with me. So I had decided to go back to the headquarters — if I could find it — and try to get into the place undetected. I had spotted a partially open door on the third floor on the way to the conference room that night and was sure it was Bovet's private office. That would be a likely place to look for the film, if the New Brotherhood had it.
'I don't get it,' I said. 'I was sure there was some kind of factory along here from the sounds I heard. Maybe we're on the wrong street after all.'
'Nobody could remember all those turns, Nick. Don't blame yourself,' Fayeh said.
'But we passed the vending carts, that checks out. I don't understand. I know I heard some kind of machinery pounding.'
'It may have been a business that operates only at night,' she said. 'We may yet…'
'Wait,' I said. 'Look. That lighted building over there.'
'That is a small newspaper.'
As we approached, I heard the pound of machinery, just as I had that night. 'That's it!' I said. 'Printing presses. They must run them only at night.'
'Then we are very near,' Fayeh said.
I surveyed the opposite side of the street. Yes, there was a line of expensive estates coming up, set back off the street. The third one had a gravel drive.
That one,' I said. That third one. Pull up here.'
She stopped the Fiat at the curb, and we looked across at a darkened drive leading to a massive house behind high shrubs. 'I'm sure that's it,' I said.
She reached over and touched one of the two small adhesive bandages I still wore on my face from the Lyalin episode two nights before. 'You are still healing from your last encounter with people who play rough, Nick. Are you sure you are ready for this?'
I grinned at her. 'I've hurt myself worse than this shaving,' I said. 'Look, relax. Everything will be all right. You just keep cruising around for an hour. If I'm not out of there by then, you can call in the whole Egyptian Army if you want to.'
'All right,' she said, but she looked doubtful.
I left her then and moved quickly across the street into the shadows. When I looked back, Fayeh had already pulled away from the curb, and was heading the Fiat down the boulevard. I turned and moved down the drive
way toward the house.
I met no opposition. There was an electric eye across the drive near the house that I spotted just in time. I crawled underneath and then I was at the house. It was an impressive place with Moorish arches all along the front on two of the three levels. There were lights on the ground floor, but none on the next two.
I moved quickly to the rear of the place, watching for more electronic alarms. I found another one at the rear corner of the house. This one was a trip-wire that would have set off a bell alarm. I avoided it and moved to a trellis that ran up the entire height of the building. A vine grew on it but it wasn't a thick one. I grabbed hold of the trellis and found it held my weight. I scrambled up and in a couple of minutes, I was on the roof.
From there it was easy. I dropped through a skylight to the third-floor corridor, the one I had walked two nights before. It was dark, and no one was about. I listened and heard someone moving downstairs. It sounded like just one person. If the rest of the household was gone, that would be a break for me.
I moved quietly to the door I had noticed partially open when I'd been there before. When I tried it, I found it was locked. I pulled a small key ring from my pocket with a half dozen master keys on it, inserted one into the lock and felt it respond. I opened the door and stepped into the dark room, closing the door after me.
I seemed to have guessed right. There was a long desk in front of heavily-draped windows. I went to the desk and picked up a couple of papers which had Bovet's signature. Another paper bore the signature Henri Perrott, but the handwriting was the same. So that was it. Bovet was posing as a legitimate businessman here in Cairo. Interpol might be interested in that information.
I tried a desk drawer, but the desk was locked too. I had no key that would open it, so I had to pick the lock laboriously with a letter opener. I went through the entire desk but I didn't come up with the microfilm.
There had to be a safe, I thought, either in this office or some other room in the house. I moved around the walls. I looked behind a couple of oil paintings which appeared to be originals but found nothing except a hidden microphone. Bovet was playing spy himself.