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wouldn't keep them out. It was only meant to dis-
courage them tf they casually tried to lift the door—
to make them think the door was shut, un-
usable.
Still, no one the door, one way or the other,
and we could hear the leaders giving orders. There
was the noise of digging as the bandits settled in,
making camp for the night around the cluster of
stone cottages. I looked toward Irina. She shrugged,
started to speak, but the voice I heard wasn't hers.
g They can't escape, not in this country. You've
sent the word everywhere?
It was Colonel Drain. He spoke directly overhead!
I heard the scrape of chai.rs, the clink of a bottle and
"All the omages, all our people, are watching,
Colonel,- a deeper voice said in another language—
Greek, with a strong Macedonian accent. "They
must be spirits to reach Greece unseen."
"Tomorrow we search au routes to the bor-
der,» Draja said and a glass clinked again. The
AmeHcan, the Kilmaster, is a clever man. I un-
derestimated him. Something made him suspicious.
Perhaps he realized were not in Greece.-
A third voice, thick and rough, said, "The Russian
tcoman, you say she is blond, big?
The deep voice laughed, "A Russian woman does
not smile on a Bulgarian Todor."
"I know the Russian ways," the rough voice said.
"The blond tootnan beg for me. She is mine
when we find them."
In the dark cellar I looked toward Irina. Her face
was impassive, but her eyes gleamed in the dim light
as she looked back at me unblinking. Then she
smiled and
Heavy feet ran up to the cottage above, the door
CROSS
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105
slammed open, and the feet pounded across the
wooden floor. I couldn't make out what the angy,
panting voice said, but I could guess, and Draja
soon confirmed it.
"Both guards and the pilot? the Colonel said, his
chair banging as he must have jumped up. - The
Deolll Thev doubled back on while we searched
to the eastr
•you said that this Rillmaster was clever," the
deep voice said. "He outwitted us."
"And perhaps himself," the thick-voiced Todor
said. "They could only have gone north, deeper into
Yugoslavia! They cannot escape us to the north?
A silence, then Draja's voice, low: "No, you arg
fight, Todor. North there is only our mountains and
my country. Fewer routes and nowhere to find help.
Come, toe tDill find their trail, mt uxzit for morning.
A ten-man patrol, no more."
ne chairs scraped and banged, feet stamped in
boots, and then a silence settled. But only a partial
silence. nere was still the beavy, breathing, moving
silence of men resting, sleeping, sitting in weary
silence against walls. In the dark cellar, I
toward Irina.
•rhey won't find any trail," I said. The rest won't
leave tonight.¯
"No," she said.
"In the morning, tbey'L wonder why there's no
trail to the north.-
"Perhaps they will not think of a cellar," she said.
watched her quiet face. It was a beautiful face,
sfrong and proud. I stepped toward her:
won't let them capture you, Irina.¯
Her eyes were bright. "I have been captured bee
fore. It does not matter. It is unimportant, without
meaning."
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xrcr CARTER: RILLMAs•rn
I remembered her body in the hayloft room. gres
got meaning to me."
"No," she said. 'That is not a matter of yours.
'I%at is tomorrow, and for me."
I said nothing, watching her face fn the dim, hid-
den cellar. She turned, walked to the pile of burlap
sacks and lay down. In the voluminous peasant
dress, the white petticoats like some clean flower in
the heavy darkness, she waited with her eyes closed.
"nat is tomorrow," she said. we are
here."
I said, -Irina? Only if it is what you want. Only
then."
"We have nowhere to go. I want to go far, a long
way. I want to fly tonight. Into the sun. One more
Her eyes were still closed, her clear northern face
soft and clean as if seeing a vision. L hew that
vision, we all do in Our work. Tomorrow perhaps,
there would be no sun. Tomorrow there might be
nothing, the end. In the dark, cold cellar we had
nowhere to go-—except somewhere we find in-
side us.
I went to the pile of sack. She opened her eyes as
I came down Wide, deep, burning eyes that
said we would live a lifetime tonight. The two of us.
She loosened the laces of her peasant blouse and
opened the neckline. She opened the tight bodice
and her geat, beautiful breasts tumbled out, no
longer constrained. They were soft and Ionse and
spreading there in the dimness.
cold of the cellar was like ice on my naked
legs, but my body felt like steel, like a hard, burning
sword. I spread the layers of •petticoats and her long
legs rose high to draw me down and into her in a
single, fluid motion. Her strong hands dug into my
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107
back through my peasant jacket. Locked, we moved
in the dank cellar, two straining visions blending far
and deep, and above us the heavy silence of the en-
emy coughed and laughed and rolled in sleep..
Silent, we ended.
Blood was on her lips where she bad bitten ber
cry of passion to silence. My hands were tearing the
burlap in silence. Quivering.
Joined, merged, locked, we lay there for a long
time. No words, no movement. Until, slowly, then
faster, we began to rise and fall again like the surge
of some vast, hot, flowing, sea. A great, bright, ex-
ploding sea of darknßs.
And again.
Because we were trapped. Because tomorrow we
could be dead. Because death and danger quivered
in the darkness with us. Because our enemies slept
above, our were small, but we were alive
now and we had our life.
Once more because we wanted life and this time
no clawing of burlap or biting to blood could silence
the small, tearing cries of our need, not if we died
for it.
Our sounds of passion.
And sleep.
Peace, and sleep, and ff the end came down the
narrow ladder, it came. It would, in the end, come
to everyone.
Peace and silence.
The enemy and death above.









CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cold, I opened my eyes.
Something held me down.
I reached for my Luger and touched a hard,
rough surface. Canvas. I was under the canvas
wagon cover, naked to the waist, stiff with cold.
Irina slept against me, her breasts soft and
bot on my arm. Above, the silence was that thick
silence of night where many men slept. The beav-
iness of open mouths, and bodies curled against the
cold, and ragged breathing. I looked at my watch.
Four A.M. I reached for a cigarette.
Tight one for me."
Irina sat up, her back against the hard dirt wall,
her big breasts flowing white. I lit a cigarette, gave it
to her.
"A stinking world, stinking work," I said. "You
should be wrapped in furs in Russian snow. In a fur
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109
bat and fur boots, laughing in the mow with some
happy Cossack."
"You should be fishing an American mountain
stream under a big blue sky," she said. She smoked.
"I was trained as an engineer, Nick, to build roads
across Siberian steppes and to Black Sea resorts, so
that Mongol nomads could buy washing machines
and Moscow clerks drive to the beach. I hated it. I
wanted a better world—and adventure. Danger, the
thrill of being real. We are sick, I think, you and I.
To feel alive we must deal with death and call it
duty.-
"Freebooters, pirates, predators?'
Terhaps only misfits. Risk our lives in the name of
making a perfect world where you and I could never
live."
She laughed there in the dank dirt cellar. I was
aware of her body, the surging heat, the two of us.
"Irina," I said slowly, "when you talked about
Mike Rush, you said maybe he didn't want us to
know what was behind him or why he did what he
did. He didn't want us to know what Blood Eagle
was. You and Vortov, the NKVD, don't k10W? Rush
wasn't working for you?'
"No, he did not work for the Soviet," she said.
gwe thought he was a man of your CIA, and then
Denka thought perhaps of AXE when he found that
you were involved."
ewthy were you after him, then? Why is Vortov so
concerned he came bere himself, left Russia?"
She smoked. €1n the last year, a deputy defense
minister, one of our nuclear engineers, and a general
all died in mishaps. An automobile accident, a hunt-
ing accident, and General Tukashevsky had ap-
parently been cleaning his pistol and was tragically
careless. Tukashevsky was one of our youngest gen-
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CARTER:
erals, a brilliant soldier, violently anti-Chinese, and
a particular protege of our late Defense Minister,
Marshal Crechko.
"Naturally, we investigated his apparent accident
closely. That was when we found that the General
had met in secret with one of our own people—an
NKVD agent who was not even supposed to be in
Russia, who was ostensibly on a foreign mission.
Then we found the ring. It--"
I tensed. "Ring? A large ring with a stone that
flips to show a signet Of an eagle with a snake in its
talons?"
"Yes, exactly like that," Irina said, 'A,Vben we
checked our agent's dossier, we found that he had
also been in contact with the dead deputy defense
minister, that he had been missing from his assign-
ment when the nuclear engineer had died also, and
that he had disappeared! Then an Uzbek guide who
had been with the deputy defense minister when he
died in the bunting accident told us that the minis-
ter had babbled about an eagle before he died."
"Did you ever find your agent?"
Irina nodded. "Dead in Istanbul two weeks ago,
with a road map of the area where the nuclear en-
gineer had died in the auto accident in his room,
and evidence that he had met more than once in the
past with an American State Department man."
"Mike Rush," I said.
She nodded. 'The implications were enough to
bring Denka himself down here to find Rush, but we
were too late. The rest you know, Nick—that we are
as much in the dark as your people."
I nodded in the dim cellar. "You don't know any
more about Blood Eagle than we do, and Mike Rush
wasn't a Soviet agent. Not Soviet and not CIA. Then
what, who?"





111
"Chinese?' Trina said. nukashevsky was violently
against Peking and was rapidly on bis way up. Our
dead nuclear engineer was a specialist on tactical
nuclear weapons, an advocate of arming our border
units with them. Or, our turncoat agent's assignment
was in London—perhaps MI-5?"
Tanatic Britishers, trying to be number one
agåin?" I said, thinking about it.
I remembered that Diana and Mike Rush had
been notably pro-British, and in the middle of inves-
tigating them I'd been sent on an emergency sale to
kill a British double-agent for General Wyndham
and MI-5. What had that English agent known?
"Irina," I said, "what about Colonel Draja? Could
he be behind Blood Eagle? The leader of whatever
it is, or at least part of it? An international organiza-
tion of assassins out to gain power everywhere? Fas-
cist counter-revolution? Killing the most militant
leaders in countries to create a reaction, a call for
fascistic order they II rise up to fill?"
"I would say that it is not impossible," she said
slowly. "Draja appeared very soon after Rush was
captured and has been close to all action around
Rush ever since. He could bave brought Rusb into
Albania, and in his position could have made assas-
sination of the defense minister very easy. But Rush
made a mistake, a freak accident, and was caught."
gNow Rush is dead, and the only ones who were
near him the last days—us—Draja is trying to silence.
Yeh, it's—"
I raised my bead. nere was a stirring in the
silence above, a sense of action out on the air field. A
low rumble of voices increased, metal rattled against
metal and booted feet approached the cottages. The
iheavy feet entered the cottage above our heads and
weapons crashed down. Men slumped into chairs, a
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NIC.« CARTER: KILLMASTCR
weary sound, and angry. I heard Draja's voice
swearing.
"You did not find them, Colonel?" someone said,
sleepy.
rough-voiced Todor snarled, ODO toe seem
flushed with victory, idiot?'
"There was no trail," the deep voice said. "No
Draja swore, "7ÆUS! They circled back, planned to
escape in the jet, I am sure! It had no fuel. What the
devil did they do? We had them blocked south and
east/ Are they ghosts?
There was a long silence. I listened, pulling on my
pants and boots. Irina dressed in silence, listening.
Would they think that we might be hiding so near?
Nowhere else to go?
Tou have said the American, the Ritlmaster, is
clever, Colonel." It was the deep-voiced one, proba-
bly Draja's leader with the bandit column. "He
tVOUld see that as we returned to the field we would
cut them off from the east and south and we would
know that, ehP We would find the pilot and the
guards. We WOUld look at once for their frail to the
north or west.-
Another silence, then Draja said, "So they do not
go north or west, aware that up tracel better in our
oton land. What I would do, yes—but then where do
they go, what can they do? Fly? Escape up into the
air without a plane"
"Perhaps they hace gone nowhere. Perhaps they
are here, close by, waiting for us to search on."
There it was! I had my gun, looked toward Irina.
She had her pistol out, too. We faced the entrance
shaft.
"Bahr the rough-voiced Todor said.
A
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us? A blond woman. Where do
"Where?'
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113
Among us? A blond woman. Where do you see a
woman, Stavros? Am I a woman?'
"No," Draja said. "There is nowhere to hide on
the field or in these cottages. We are not fools or
amateurs to fail to find anyone hiding among us. To
check Is automatic, yes. No, there is only one possi-
bility. The American is cleoer, a trained under-
ground agent. So is the Russian woman. Somehow
they passed through us as we returned!"
"Went to earth like foxesP
"There are rocks, shadows, and we were not then
looking!"
"A daring act. They are worthy opponents."
Elt tvill be a pleasure to kill them?
The deep voice finished, "So they are, after all, to
the eastl Trying to escape to Greece, yes! It is logi-
cat."
"And we'll find them," Draia said. "Pass the or-
ders. We move in an hour. Runners and the helicop-
ter move out now!"
I think I was grinning in the cellar. know I was
sweating. Irina came and kissed me once. That was
all.
"W1nen they move out east," I said, "well move—n
"East behind them," Irina finished. "GO where
they go, keep contact. Until they turn back."
She knew her work. We were spies in alien coun-
try and the greatest safety lay not in running away
from tbe bandits; but in staying close to know where
they were and what they were doing at all times.
ney were our best cover.
The last men of the rear guard filed out in the
dark just before dawn. We waited until the field was
deserted, then we went after them. ney moved
with speed through the rough, treeless Macedonian
mountains, following narrow roads and trails
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NICX CARTER: ra.LMASTER
through the steep valleys they could march through
in their sleep. But we kept up, and by the time they
took their first break some hours after sunrise, we
were close behind.
From a bushy ridge we watched them sprawled in
a long column in the valley below.
"Where's Draja?" I said, scowling searching the
forms lying below.
gl-le is here, Killmaster!"
We whirled. Ten bandits were behind us. Colonel
Draja smiled.
"You are trained agents, both of you," Draia said.
esvbat else would a trained agent do but follow us?
A mistake, Killmaster, you forgot that I, too, am
trained. Stavros, Tcxlor--"
"The woman," the rough-voiced one, Todor, said,
"is mine. Stavros can Hll the man!"










CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"You will kill no onclh Draja commanded, his eyes
fierce. "Stavros, take them down, watch them
closely. We're going to do very well with them and
III shoot anyone who touches the Russian woman,
Todor, or lets them escape again!"
All the way down the rocky mountain ridge I
'wore at myself. I could see Irina's fists clenched in
self-anger, too. Trained agents, the best! So clever
with our tactics we'd both forgotten a basic rule--
never do the predictable! Damnl
Worse than damn. A lot worse.
The end of our mission, and probably of us.
"Don't break another rule, Nick," Irina said softly,
watching my face as we stumbled, surrounded by
the ten bandits, down to the column. "We do not
look back, never worry about the past."
I nodded grimly. If you don't forget a mistake,
you've already made another mistake.
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CARTER: RILI.MASTER
All right, think, Cartert
Draja had stopped them from shooting us.
Because he had a use for us. What use? Had he
stopped any shooting for now, a temporary reprieve
for an immediate purpose, or didn't be plan to shoot
us at All? What had he said to the rough-voiced
man, Todor? We're going to do very wen uith them,
yes.
How do very well?
"Tie their hands, h Draja ordered. Tie them good
and take their weapons. All their weapons. Search
them well. Stravros, search the woman yourself—keep
Todor away from her!"
They knew their trade, too. All ex-partisans or sol-
diers, they didn't miss Hugo. They took my Luger,
the stiletto, and Irina's pistol and dagger. They tied
our hands securely behind us and pushed us into
line in the long column. Then they turned and
marched back westward and toward the north deeper
into Yugoslavian Macedonia.
ney marched hard and fast, pushing us on.
What was Draia planning to do with us? Persuade
us to join him? Join Blood Eagle? Is that what "do-
ing very well with us" meant? Two trained agents to
work for Blood Eagle?
The column marched on, the sun rising hot
toward noon in the narrow valleys of the dry, dusty
mountains.
Think, Carter! How much time do you have? How
much time does Irina have? Whatever Draja had in
mind for us to do, we wouldn't do it, no, and then
he would shoot us. I stared ahead at where Draja
marched with the deep-voiced Stavros, and the
woman-loving Bulgarian, Todor. Stavros was a big,
broad man with a neatly-trimmed black beard and a
long, slow stride that seemed to eat up the distance:
TRIPLE CROSS
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117
Todor Was tall and lean despite his rough, bearish
voice.
Draja and Stavros marched at the head of the
main column, behind the advance guard spread out
some distance on either side of the steep trail. They
were deep in discussion, Draja doing most of the
talking. Todor walked a few steps behind Draja,
seeming to stare at the back of the Colonel's neck. I
couldn't see the Bulgarian's face, but there was an
angry set to his bony shoulders. I watched him-
He was angry, no doubt of it. He was burning in-
side. It was Todor that Draja had rebuked, spoken
sharply to, told bluntly that he would keep away
from Irina or be shot. He was a mountaineer with
great masculine pride, probably illiterate, certainly
narrow and rural, living much as his ancestors had
lived for a thousand years. Todor came from a land
of fierce independence, of fiery honor and self-inter-
est, where a man took what he wanted if he was a
man and where insults were not taken lightly. A
land of vendettaq
He was a man who took women, probably liked
rape more than love, and who had lost face. A man
who would not accept insult from a king, much less
an Albanian, and whose lust would be more impor-
tant to him than any cause. I watched him. There
was no doubt in my mind—Todor would do a lot to
get back at Draja.
I touched Irina, spoke ahead to the air in Russian,
'What can you speak they're sure not to under-
stand?h
She was silent. Then, "Swedish?"
I nodded. We went on marching, not looking at
each other.
"Can you make Todor get you away from the oth-
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CARTER:
"Of course."
"He would play rough. He'd want everyone to
know he was too strong a man for Draja to keep him
from a woman he wanted."
She was silent. They would know."
"Only if I was near with my hands loose."
"He would not want a woman with her hands
tied."
"NO," I said. *'YVhen we reach their camp.
Tonight."
Now I had to get my hands free before tonight.
Noon came and went, and the sun went down be-
low the higher mountains. I watched for any chance
to cut loose, but the bandits were too experienced to
give me an opportunity.
The shadows descended and somewhere near four
in the afternoon the long column took another
break. A faint hope grew in me—if we had to camp
on the trail, Irina and I would have more chance
than in a permanent camp.
Watching, searching for any way to break loose, I
sprawled in the shadows of a giant boulder. Draja
and Stavros came back along the column. They
didn't notice me silent in the shadows.
They will pay for this Killmaster?" Stavros said.
"Someone will," Draja said and laughed. "He is
the number one agent of a very secret spy group. I
have heard of him for many years. A legend, irre-
placeable, and feared by all enemies of America.
America will pay much, Stavros, and perhaps the So-
viet or China would pay more. Perhaps we sell him
to both, eh?"
"Perhaps for more than money? Many of our men
lie in jail.-
"Let them rod We are bandits, not patriots. Witb
the land of money I mean—perhaps two or three mil-
TRIPLE CROSS
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119
lion American dollars—we can get all the recruits we
need. Then there is the woman, Sbe too should be
worth much. If only to keep her being here hidden.
ne Soviet pays for silence."
«lt might be better to give ber to your govern-
ment, build your power," Stavros said. "A captured
Soviet agent would make you a hero. Your position
is valuable to us.'
'True," Draja nodded. "You might be right. We
will think."
They walked along the column. Draja was a ban-
dit, no more! A simple bandit out for nothing but
himself. Ransom, that was why he wanted me,
wanted Irina. He was only a bandit chief and he
wouldn't shoot us ever, no. We were only valuable
alive. It gave us a lot more chance!
In the shadows I lay studying all the bandits
around me. Then I saw the one I wanted. Not much
more than a boy, he'd been out on the point and
bad just come back. He looked young and strong,
and pleased with himself, proud of being a fierce
bandit. He carried two knives in his belt and too
much ammunition. I studied him and slowly became
aware of the movement high on the crest of the
mountain across the narrow valley.
Something had moved up there. Something was
there and had gone.
There again. In a different place. The flash of the
sun, still bright up so high, against some shining oly
lect. And more movement. Shapes this time, like
mountain goats.
Slowly, I turned to look up and behind me at the
3rest directly above on this side. They were there,
rief glimpses only, but they were men! Many men
oving along the crest, and lower down. Men mov-
g on all sides, and behind, and.






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I looked ahead toward where the narrow valley
wound on north. They were there, tool Creeping
from rock to rock, from busb to bush, working down-
ward!
The bandits lay around oblivious.
"Irina?" I said in Swedish. A sing-song chant as if
I were singing to myself. "Men on the mountains, all
around us. Moving in."
eyes," she said from the shadows of the rock. "Sol-
diers. I have been watching them. ney must—-
She stopped. Draja and Stavros came past, moved
on again toward the bead of the column. The break
was almost over. Ten feet behind Draja and Stavros,
Todor walked with his angry face.
Todor, D Irina said. "Draia wants me for himself. I
do not want him. He disgusts me. You, ah, that is
different."
The Bulgarian stopped as if slapped. He glared at
Irina, but behind the glare there was lust and van-
ity.
'Todor?" Irina said. "In camp will be too late."
Todor licked his narrow lips. "We move out soon,
"You are a man," Irina said. "You are not afraid to
be alone, you know the way to your camp. Or do
you fear Draja?'
Todor looked ahead, then behind. The bandits
were on their feet, re-forming their column. Todor
bent quickly and carried Irina behind the giant
rock. The column moved past me. I croaked to the
young bandit near me:
Toul Todor has the Russian woman! Stop him!"
The boy looked at me.
'There will be trouble! Draja needs us! ile will
shoot Todor! Todor is crazy!"
The boy stepped from the path and the passing




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column and went warily behind the giant rock I
was up and behind him. In the shadows of the rock
Todor lay on top of Irina, his bony buttocks strug-
gling, her legs in the air, her mass of white petdcoats
all around his hairy skin as he thrust into her, his
brain hearing and seeing nothing else.
I hit the young bandit from behind, slamming
him into the great boulder, then jumped back and
kicked him in the face as he bounced off. I squatted
back to him, groping for his knife, hoping Irina
could keep Todor on her long enough.
A loud voice boomed out up the valley, a bull-
bom:
EBandit swine! You are trapped! Lay down your—s
ne bandits dove for cover and opened a wild fire.
Rifle and machine gun fire exploded all across the
slopes in answer. The bandits died all along tho
trail. Draja was shouting ahead.
Todor struggled up out of Irina's petticoats. Her
hands were free. Todor fell into the dirt. The knife
gleamed red in her hand. She was up and behind
me, cutting my bands free. I grabbed the boy's rifle.
The bandits were fleeing all through the narrow val-
ley. Draja ran past, saw us.
Glhe spies! Bring them—D
He saw the rifle In my hands and tried to raise his
gm. I shot him down. The other bandits didn't even
stop to look at him as they fled over his body.
Everywhere, Yugoslav soldiers up the val-
ley•
It was night, and the Yugoslav troops still combed
the mountains for the wounded and the hidden.
Hawk sat against a tree.
gone of our Yugoslav contacts picked up your
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mc:r CARTER: EILLMASTR
mayday, got a fix. I alerted Belgrade; they owed me
a favor or two. It took a while for their troops to spot
you."
He'd whistled up the Yugoslav Army. Sometimes
even I forget what he can do, the power of AXE. I
looked around at the soldiers herding bandits into
rows of helicopters.
"Irina?" I said.
"Gone," Hawk said. "Vanished before I got bere.»
She had her job. I wondered if I'd meet her again.
"Not us, not the Soviets, and we've uncovered
more high officials who bad 'accidents' with Blood
Eagle around. All over the world. It's getting serious,
N3. We've put it on the top of the agenda for the
NATO security meeting in a few days."
"And not Colonel Draja," I said. Me was just a
bandit with dreams of money. Both the Rushes are
dead and we've got no more leads."
'Then we have to use the Rushes. Back to square
one. Dig into their lives, their recent actions. Flush
someone out."
I nodded slowly. Dig into the lives Of Mike and
Diana Rush, try to find out why they had had to
die. I watched the helicopters taking off. After a
time I got up and walked to climb aboard one.
Hawk followed me.
Back to work. Nothing had changed. Only a few
deaths.












CHAVI*ER SIXTEEN
The Yugoslav Army chopper flew me into Skopje,
ind an American Navy jet—without markings—took
ne down the valley of the Vardar to Thessaloniki. I
*lept all the way; I'd had enough of the Macedonian
nountains. In I took a commerical jet
to Athens and went straight to Mike and Diana
Rush's apartment. If I was going to find a path to
Blood Eagle, it would bave to start there.
Someone else seemed to have the same idea.
As I parked my Maserati on the narrow street,
md climbed the three flights once more, I heard the
)anging in the apartment. Someone was opening
Irawers, pushing furniture, not trying very hard to
»e quiet.
rd retrieved Wilhelmina from Draja's body and I
ot it out now. I used my picklock on the apartment
or and slipped in.
The man searching the apartment was in the bed-
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room, so busy slamming things around he didn'
hear me. He was either arrogant or inept. Mayb
both. I glided to the inner dcxy.
He had his back to me, was bent over a bureat
drawer, clawing through it and flinging bras ant
panties around the room. He was a tall man, lean
with beautifully brushed graying blond hair, wear
ing an impeccable gray flannel suit the way only
born diplomat can wear clothes. Our number thre
man at the Athens Embassy, Jonathan Cuming.
"Hello, Cuming," I said blandly.
He spun around, a pair of green panties in his ele
gant hand, almost losing his balance and not lookin:
very diplomatic now. His whole search wasn't ex
actly what you'd call the usual occupation of an am
bassadorial type.
"Who the devil—I" Then he recognized me—recog
nizing from a single meeting was part of his jot
"Carter? Yes, I recall. Are you still—n
He stared. He'd seen my gun. He went very pale
'CWhat are you looking for, Cuming?' I said.
His gray eyes were riveted on my pistol, panic be
hind them. This wasn't his arena and that mean
that he had to be pretty alarmed to be here—o
pretty desperate.
Tou know Diana Rush is dead?" I said.
He literally wrung his hands. "A suicide, yes! Th
Ambassador is terribly alarmed! would she—
The Secretary himself wants a report. I came to se
if there was anything to cast some light, but bu
there is nothing!"
He was as nervous and distraught as a Baptist vil
gin in a brothel—or a pretty good actor. Somehow,
wondered again what the number three man at a
embassy was doing handling his own dirty work.
"How do you how what to look for?" I said.
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125
eel thought ... we thought . at the Embassy,
that she must have been involved in some kind of
trouble. I mean, trouble that could concern the Em-
bassy. Perhaps blachnail, or—"
"Do you how that Mike Rush fs dead, too? Prob-
ably suicide. D
He almost staggered at that one. I thought he was
going to faint, but he got a grip on himself.
Who are you? Not just a friend, not a Pentagon em-
ployee! nat gun! You—n
ÜLet's just say we both work for the same branch
of Washington, I'm looking for the same thing you
say you are, and I outrank you. Did you know about
Rush?D
-only Can't you put that pistol away? rm not
armed and you said we work for the same people."
"I said it, you didn't," I said. I kept Wilhelmina
right on him. I'm not in polite work about
Mike Rush?"
"I know only that the CIA reports he was Idlled in
Albania trying to escape a labor camp."
Tell me about Blood Eagle, Diana's part in it.*
what?"
I had the same question—was he for real, or a good
actor?
"All right, what have you found here?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing at all! She
apparently knew nothing Of Embassy affairs; Rush
never brought any work or documents home. There's
nothing referring even to her own work at the Ross
Institute." Cuming shook his head. 'We often told
Rush that it wasn't really the thing to have his wife
work for an organization and a man who saw no dif-
ference between us and the Soviet Union!"
"Is there anything that mentions Stig Suderman?"
Uso you how that, too? No, I found nothing."




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His voice had changed just a hair, not quite the
hand-wringing innocent. It wasn't much, but there
was more iron behind the gay flannel than he was
letting on up to now.
"Is there something at the Embassy Suderman
would be especially interested in?"
"An international gun-runner and violence mer-
chant is always interested in something at an Em-
bassy," Cuming said. He looked around the room.
"But there is nothing here to give even a hint as to
why the Rushes are dead. Nothing." He sighed, took
a tentative step, trying not to look at my Luger.
"Well, I must get back to my work. You ... you...
"Someone will let you know what we find out," I
said drily.
He almost scuttled out, stiff as a board as if he felt
my pistol in his back. I made a quick search Of the
apartment to be sure, but he seemed like the meticu-
Ious type. I found nothing and went into the second
apartnent next door where Diana had been hiding.
I searched more carefully there and the afternoon
was half over before I finished. Nothing.
I drove to the building housing The Institute For
Permanent Peace and parked up the street. I lit a
cigarette and settled to wait. The afternoon wore
down slowly, and I half dozed. It was dull work,
waiting for the offce to empty, but I'd had enough
excitement for a time.
I sat up, alert, only once. At about five, the big
Texan, Jeb Hood, came out. He stood for a time on
the crowded street as if thinking hard. Then he
looked up and down the street, and walked away to
the right and disappeared into the crowds.
At five-thirty the middle-aged receptionist ap-
peared, and right behind her John Ross and Alfredo
Stroesser. They walked away, Ross and Stroesser
TRIPLE CRCXSS
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127
deep fn conversation. I waited ten more minutes,
then went up.
The office was locked and silent. I checked the big
conference room at the end of the corridor. It was
empty. I used my picklock to open the connecting
door into Ross's office. But it wasn't the philosopher's
office I wanted now.
I found where Diana had worked behind the sec-
ond glass door up the dingy corridor of the deserted
offices. It was a small room, with one window, a desk,
and some rows of filing cabinets. I got down to
work
The files were crammed with the minutes of the
peace seminars and meetings, and packed with re-
ports from all over the world. ne reports were
mostly on Incidents of violence, statements by offi-
cials of various governments that the Insfitute either
approved or disapproved of, and the success or fail-
ure of the organization's peace efforts.
I checked closely for the names of the victims Of
Blood Eagle I knew. Some were there and some
weren't. All the government officials had a file de-
voted to them, but there was nothing on the Soviet
nuclear engineer and nothing on Paul Waring, the
right-wing American oil tycoon. There was nothing
—bout Colonel Draja.
There was a fat file on the activities of the CIA,
another on the reported actions of the NKVD, plus
MI-5 and just about every other national security
and espionage unit. But it was all public knowledge,
or well-hown rumor. nere was nothing about
AXE. Hawk knew how to keep secret.
There was nothing on Blood Eagle or Mike Rush.
A big file on Stig Suderman told me nothing I
didn't know already.
The sun was almost down outside over Athens,
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glowing faintly pink on the distant rutns of the
Acropolis. The city seemed to surge with sound as
night descended, but in the offce everything
was silent.
I turned to Diana's desk. The files bad shown only
what I already knew—that The Institute For Per-
manent Peace had a lot of contacts all over the
world and made itself a nuisance to any and all gov-
emments. A moral watchdog. Had Diana and Blood
Eagle been using it? Maybe her desk would tell me.
I went carefully through every drawer. Nothing. I
looked under the desk blotter. There was a menu
from a take-out Greek restaurant {n the American
quick-food style, that was alL
I tried under the center drawer... and felt a key.
A small, flat key that was taped to the underside
of the shallow drawer. I pulled it off,
And felt the gun in my back











CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
•What are you doing in here?"
It was the voice of John Ross. He wasn't alone.
"Be careful, he probably has a weapon," the Span-
ish-accented voice of Alfredo Stroesser said.
"Belt holster, right side," I said.
A hand patted my right side and reached to take
Wilhelmina. While they were busy, I palmed the key
and slipped it deftly under my broad watchband.
They had my gun.
"Turn around," Ross said.
I turned. John Ross stared at me in surprise,
puzzled and almost hurt to see who I was. Stroesser
didn't seem so surprised, and not especially un-
happy on recognizing me.
"Mr. Carter?" Ross said, still puzzled and more
than a little angry. gY'Vhat is this all about? What do
you want? Do you make a habit of breaking into
people's offces?"
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"I think," Stroesser said, "that Mr. Carter has not
been telling us the fruth about himself, or about
what he wanted with Diana."
I beard the past tense—wanted. They knew Diana
was dead. I wondered what else they knew.
gApparently not," John Ross said. "Just what is it
you're looking for that you couldn't ask us about,
Mr. Carter?
•If I hew I said, sMaybe I could have
asked. Let's say rm working on a hunch that Diana
Rush wasn't telling all the buth about herself."
"And that perhaps we aren't telling the buth
about Diana, either? Or about ourselves? Ross said.
"I didn't say that," I fenced.
Stroesser snorted, "But you think it, or you would
not be sneaking in here after hours. You would have
come to us and discussed Diana. If your country-
man, Mr. Jeb Hood, hadn't called my apartment to
warn us that someone was breaking in here, we
would never bave Imown what you were doing."
So Jeb Hood had spotted me in the Maserati. But
he hadn't told Ross and Stroesser that he Imew who
I was. Or maybe he'd only recognized the Maserati
and hadn't been sure just where he'd seen it, or who
would be in it, and hadn't gotten a good look at me
when I came up here.
"Mthat are you, Mr. Carter," Ross said, "and what
is your connection to Diana's tragic death?"
G1,Vhat I am doesn't matter," I said. "My con-
nection to Diana's death was that she had some-
thing she wanted to hide and I was getting too
close. She killed berself, rather than risk being made
to tell what she was mixed up in. And it was no
spur-of-the-moment act, no. She had a cyanide cap-
sule; she was prepared to die for whatever she was
doing."
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131
John Ross slowly lowered his pistol. "What was
she doing? Working for some warrnongering power?
Selling out peace? Using the Institute?"
A Probably all of that," I said grimly. "But specifi-
cally we think she was part of a secret organization
called Blood Eagle. An organization that's been be-
hind what looks like political assassinations all over
the world. Maybe they're working for some govern-
ment, maybe more than one government. Maybe a
coalition of dissident factions inside a lot of govern-
ments, maybe one dissident group in one govern-
ment, or maybe just a bunch of crazy fanatics on
their own. We don't know, but we do know that Di-
ana and Mike Rush seem to have been part Of it and
so was an NKVD agent who's dead, too."
"Diana and her husband? Assassinations? With an
NKVD man, too?' John Ross's voice was unbeliev-
ing. "Blood Eagle? I've never beard of such a group.
Never!"
"Neither have I, h Alfredo Stroesser said. His gun
hadn't lowered, was still aimed right at my gut.
don't believe anyone else has, cither. It's a ridiculous
story, Carter. No, I think Diana Rush's death was
the result of some plot aimed at fie Institute and I
think you, Carter, are part of the same plot!"
I watched Stroesser. "What kind of plot do you
have in mind, Stroesser?"
Stroesser's face was contorted with anger, his eyes
black and violent. I tensed as his fingers whitened
on the trigger of the old Luger he held.
know your länd!" His voice was hoarse, rasping.
"An international thug! A paid assassin! I don't
know which part of the American imperialist govern-
ment you work for, but you're nothing but a hired
hand of the forces who
fear peace, hate peace,
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NICX CARTER: XILLMASTTR
would destroy anyone or anything that fosters true
peace!"
"You still haven't said what plot," I said. eWhat
am I doing against the Institute? How was Diana in-
volved? What was she doing—for or against you?
You're making speeches, nothing more, Stroesser.
Maybe you don't want to talk about—y
He purpled, thrusting the pistol forward. "Suder-
man! Yes, you and Stig Suderman were using Diana!
Perhaps her husband, too?"
I was alert. 'CWTat do you know about her hus-
band?"
"Only that he Ls gone from the Embassy and you
said be was being beld in Albania," John Ross said.
gyou're sure that's all?" I watched Stroesser. "I
wonder if you people want me to find out what Di•
ana was doing? Find out about Blood Eagle?"
"You swine!" StrcBsser almost jumped at me,
pushing the barrel of his Luger into my gut. ffm go-
ing to kill you! You broke in, we bave the right to
kill you and—s
"Alfredol" John Ross commanded.
gNol Hell destroy us! A spy!
ÜAlfredo! Put down that gunt" Ross's voice was
sharp, firm. "Put it down. Nowl We do not kill, we
do not indulge in violence. Is this how we protect
peace?'
The Luger was still sunk {n my belly, Stroesser's
face was only inches from mine. His black eyes were
like endless tunnels of hate, of a violent anger. The
eyes of a fanatic. He began to shake, then tremble
all over as ff in terrible pain. His whole body was
shaking with the tremendous effort to stop, puli back
and control himself.
Tut the gun away, John Ross said, qul-
etly now. *We are apostles of peace, of hope. Vio-
TRIPLE CROSS
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133
lence is not our way. Not even if what you say were
bue.
Slowly, Stroesser began to nod. He nodded, more
to himself than to Ross or me, and stepped back. He
looked down at the old Luger. His Nazi fathe€s gun,
John Ross turned to me. "Alfredo is worried, Mr.
Carter. We all are. We have worked long and hard
for peace, with not very much tangible result for all
our effort. Sometimes it can become frustrating, you
see? The enemy has all the weapons, the violence.
We have only our dreams, our hopes. %ere are
times when it is terribly tempting to answer violence
and bate and deceit with the same weapons. But
that must not be, eh, Alfredo?"
Stroesser was still nodding. He looked at Ross,
then put tbe Luger into his pocket. He turned and
walked out. John Ross watched him go, his imposing
face almost sad under the great shock of red hair.
The famous philosopher seemed tired. It's a long
and lonely road working against the violence and
narrow bates deep in most people and nations.
"Everyone has his limit, his breaking point," Ross
said after a time. 'When we beard of Diana's suicide
we were stunned. Then we were shocked. Finally,
we were alarmed. The way she died, you see? Like a
secret agent alone fn some hidden room. Why?
What had she done, or known, that she took with
her to the grave? WTat did she fear, or what did she
have to hide? We are very vulnerable. Had she been
working against us? In league with the warmongers?
Is there some secret action against us?'
I nodded. "it's possible, Rags. Or maybe none of
it's connected to you at all. Maybe it's all part of
Mike Rush's actions, nothing to do with the Insti-
tute.»
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NICK CARTER: rmr.MASTER
"I hope that is the case," Ross said, then shook his
head. "My God, listen to me hoping only that the vi-
olence is not involved with us! Not horrified for poor
Diana no matter what she was doing! It is hard to
change people after all the centuries of horror and
slaughter, isn't it, Mr. Carter?'
"Slow work," I agreed drily.
"But work that will Man will change. We
all must changel The evil animal in us must be
rooted out!" For an instant, Ross's eyes were as deep
and distant as Stroesser*s had been. Then he shook
himself, a man coming out of a trance. "We must
know, mustn't we? What Diana was doing, what
happened. One way or the other. Well help you any
way we can, Mr. Carter. It ds clear that you are
much more than you told us—you know things about
this that we do not. I don't want to how those
things, or specifically who you are. But call on us for
any help. We are distrusted enough by the world's
governments."
'Thanks," I said. •I II let you know if I need you. *
"Have you found anything in Diana's offce here?
"No, nothing," I lied.
He nodded. "If you want to search further, any-
where at all in these offices, let us know."
" I II do that," I said.
He stood alone in Diana's silent offce as I walked
out, just standing there and looking around as if
hoping Diana would reappear by magic. She
wouldn't.
Down in the Maserati, I looked at the small key
rd found under Diana's desk drawer. It was
stamped with a name and a number: Pegasus Club,
27. A locker key, from the of it. I started the
gaudy red car and headed for the private club of
the jet set.
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135
I parked up the block from the elegant entrance
and the narrow alley at the side where I'd had to
Ell the young man what seemed like a year ago
now. I started to get out, thinking about how best to
approach getting into the club, when I saw Stig
uderman.
He came out of The Pegasus Club almost at a nm.
In the twilight, be looked up and down the narrow
Athens street, then hurried to a small Fiat' He got in
quickly beside the driver. Stroesser? %ere are a hell
of a lot of Fiats in Athens, but I had to find out. I
slammed my door, pulled out into the stream of traf-
fic after the Fiat.
By the time we passed Syntagma Square it was
dark and I moved closer as the Fiat headed down
the wide avenue toward Piraeus. The traffic thinned
as we drew close to the port city of Athens and by
the time the Fiat began to circle the open harbor I
had to drop back to keep from being spotted.
Even in the night small boats moved busily back
and forth across the great harbor, the shadows of
the freighters towering out In the anchorage. The
Fiat moved along the waterfront and finally stopped
at a long, dim wharf that jutted out into the dark har-
Suderman got out and began to walk out on the
wharf. I waited to see the driver of the Fiat. I didn't
get the chance. The Fiat pulled away from the
wharf and picked up speed. I had a quick choice—
the Fiat or Suderman? If Alfredo Stroesser was driv-
ing the Fiat, I badly wanted to how that. But if it
turned out that the driver wasn't Stroesser, then I
wanted to know what Suderman was up to.
I decided on the Fiat—and changed my mind.
Or my mind was changed for me.
A long, black car suddenly appeared on the wharf
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136
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NICK CARTER: EILLMASTER
and drove out across the harbor road to block my
way.
Another car appeared behind me.
Some shadowy figures stood in the gloom of the
waterfront buildings to the left. The glistening har-
bor waited to the right. The two silent cars just
stood there.
A bullet slammed through my windshield, leaving
a faint, spitting echo of the silenced shot. It had
come from the car in front at the head of the wharf.
I got the picture, stepped out of the Maserati and
walked to the long, black car.
The rear door of the car opened and a brilliant,
blinding light shined into my face. I couldn't see a
thing behind the light. A hand appeared from the
open doorway behind the light, beckoning for me tc
get into the car.
I got in.
A bag dropped over my head; hands held me.
The car began to move slowly, without turning, a:
if driving back along the wharf.
I sensed them around me, but no one spoke.
The car stopped, the hands pushed me out and
started to walk me ahead. I smelled the harbor al
around, heard the lapping of the water against thc
wharf piles.
They were walking me toward the unseen water.










CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I pulled back, but the hands gripped me harder and
pushed me on.
nen they turned me sharply left, across a shaky
surface, and onto another wooden surface. Roughly,
I was pushed down some steep stairs, turned again,
and again, and finally stopped.
A heavy door closed. I saw the glow of light
through the bag on my head. Hands took my
weapons. I was sat in a chair and the bag was
pulled Off.
I blinked in the dim light that was like a glare af-
ter the bag. While I blinked like I made a
quick study of the room. It was large, low-ceilinged
with thick beams, and had a single light hanging
from the beams that left all the corners in empty
darkness.
Five men stood around at the edge of the circle of
ght. They just stood there, only two of them with
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NICK CARTER: rn.LMASTER
weapons in sight, silent and hardly even looking at
me.
The one who was looking at me sat in the center
of the circle of light, facing me across a narrow
table. Cool and blank, with flat almond eyes that
looked me up and down, right and left. Chinese eyes
that examined me like a jeweler inspecüng a rare
pearl. They were all Chinese.
But only the one behind the table was a woman.
"You have followed Mr. Suderman," she said.
"Why?"
To see whom he'd meet," I said bluntly. "Now I
how."
"So?" Sbe studied me. "Knowledge can be
freedom; it can also be death."
"Did the Chairman say that? Or was it Confu-
cius?"
She didnt smile. Tao-Tze, I believe. I am not an
expert in that area."
"Don't be modest," I said. Tve heard that
Madame Hsing is expert in almost everything."
g Ah?" Her almond eyes narrowed—I knew her.
Madame Hsing Pei Chuan, Chief of Internal
Counter-Revisionism for The People's Republic. We
have a dossier four inches thick on her at AXE, but
that's all we have. As far as I knew, no western
agent had ever seen her. I was a first' I hoped I
wasn't going to be a last. Reportedly, she had never
left China since her student days in the West and
that made her presence here in Piraeus something of
another bombshell. David Hawk, Denka Vortov, and
now Madame Hsing. The Blood Eagle affair grew
bigger every second.
"So you know me?" She went on studying me ag if
her eyes were scalpels stripping me layer by layer.
TRIPLE cnoss
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139
Tou are more than Mr. Suderman imagines. Most
interesting."
She was tall, slender, youngish, and had the cool,
aristocratic face of an ancient Chinese princess or
Emperor's concubine. Very tall and high-cheekboned
for a Chinese—because she wasn't Chinese, no. A
Manchu if I ever saw one, with an aristocratic man-
ner that hadn't shown in the pictures we had in our
files and didn't exactly fit with the democratic prin.
ciples of The People's Republic.
"And you're a long way from Peking," stig-i.
Tat's pretty interesting, too. So's your backgro.und.
Pure Manchu, I'd say. Your family must have been
high with the old Empire."
"My family died with the old Empire, Mr. Carter.
Those who cannot adapt must die when a new
world is being born. Unfortunately, there are many
who do not understand this and do not accept their
inevitable extinction. Such people sometimes at-
tempt to turn time back in their folly. Many are not
even aware of what they are doing, fail to under.
stand the true course of history, fall into dangerous
error—or worse."
I studied her. "You sound like you have someone
specific in mind, or some thing. Trouble in the
People's paradise?"
"Life is trouble, Mr. Carters Trouble we expect, as
does any sane person. Subversion, by intent or error,
we do not. When certain events cannot be ex-
plained, we are concerned."
I had a pretty good hunch what she was talking
about and why she was here—Blood Eagle again!
Only was it that the unknown unit was operating in
China too, or was it that the Chinese were Blood
Eagle? Madame Hsing seemed to read my mind.
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GWhat can you tell me about Blood Eagle, Mr.
Carter?"
"So you're having trouble, too? Assassinations?"
will ask the questions. You are saying that Blood
Eagle is an organization of assassins? You know
"I don't know much of anything, Madame. We
think that certain assassinations have been commit-
ted by people who seem to have some association
with the words Blood Eagle."
"Assassinations where?"
"Apparently everywhere—including the Soviet Un-
and Albania."
lier almond eyes showed no reaction. a%ere was
an assassination in Albania?"
"An attempt, we think. It was prevented."
'What people have committed these acts, or failed
to?"
"Dorn you how?"
was certain she knew some of the names, but
how much more did she Was she frying to
find out what was going on as much as I was, or did
she already know, and only wanted to find out how
much I knew? Mthat I knew and who i'd told about
it. all? A small anger flared in her dark eyes.
"I have said I will ask the questions. Chiangl"
One of the silent men stepped up to me.
touched my neck with both hands. The hands
something. I almost fainted and bit blood out of m)
lip to stifle a scream. One small pressure and inside
shook almost out of control.
"A man disguised as an Albanian official
Michael Rush to escape in Albania," Madame H.si.ni
said quietly. "Rush died, the man escaped. I believi
you were that man, Mr. Carter. What did Michae
Rush tell you before he died?"
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141
I got a grip on my shaking inside. CNothing."
Oile was your friend. His wife was your friend."
"He told me nothing! Neither did his wife. I think
they both committed suicide to keep from telling me
anything."
Madame Hsing nodded to her man, Chiang. He
stepped up to me again. I fought not to shrink away,
faced him with as much fake contempt on my face I
could manage. I didn't have any real contempt for
him, no. Ile was good at what he did. Very good.
C'Aaahhhhhh—"
A moan. Mine. They got a small moan out of me
this time and for an instant everything went black
and red and green and . .
I ground my teeth to-
gether, held on, held.... ne light returned, hazy as
if through liquid, in a halo of red and green.
Madame Hsing's face was circled by red and green.
'The Rushes worked for someone," she said.
'NVb0?"
"I don't know. No one kmows. Maybe for you!"
Or for you, Mr. Carter? Your whole actiom your
search and pursuit, could be an elaborate charade to
confuse, to hide the fact that Blood Eagle is your
creation. American. *
"Or Mike Rush's capture in Albania was an act to
cover his working for Peking!" Inside I breathed as
slowly and carefully as I could, fighting the pain
that lingered all through my body, running through
every tortured nerve. "Funny, the only failed assas-
sination I know happened in Albania! Your bud-
dies!"
She was silent, watched me. Tou dare much, Mr.
Carter. If you are right, you know you are dead. Yet
you say it to my face. Perhaps to fool me? Will you,
too, commit suicide to hide the identity of Blood
Eagle?
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NICX CARTER:
If she looked at Chiang again* I might have to do
just that. I had my pill, could I get at it? I waited, a
swirling blackness of color still there behind my
eyes. Madame Hslng moved her band, a sharp ges-
ture this time. I tensed.
Then they were gone—all the men. Only Madame
Hsing sat in the long, low room with me. She sat un-
nwvring for a moment, then stood and walked to me.
She gave me a cigarette, lit it, then went back to the
table and sat on the edge. In full view, she showed
her tall, slender body curved lean and yet soft in the
narrow Chinese dress, her long le
slit almost to her hfps. It was one e ofa e
above it... ?
think,- she said, Athat you do not know who is
behind this Blood Eagle. We do not Imow either.
We have had 'accidents' that we now know were not
accidents. If it is not you, then it must be the Soviet
revisionists."
"No, I don't—- I began.
does not matter what you think now," she said.
She lit a cigarette of her own. "So we meet at last,
Mr. Carter? I have long expected this moment."
"Meet?" I said. "You knew my name before you
grabbed me."
€Your name fs unimportant. N3 Is important, the
Killma.ster of AXE. A legend in our trade, yes?'
I watched her. She swung that long, smooth leg,
the narrow dress rippling tight across the flat belly.
glt would not be good for my people to know of
Killmaster, of the skill of N3, of the danger of AXE.
But I know."
"Good for you," I satd.
She smiled. EAh, if we had dme. Your skill with
your work is legendary. Your skill with women per-
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143
haps even more a legend, yes? I think I would like
to find out. I think we would enjoy each other."
€1 didn't know The People's Republic had room
for sex,t' I said. "Except to produce workers, of
course."
"The new China is the future, Mr. Carter, but not
an is new in China. Some things do not change in-
side a person, no matter how bard she works to
change." Her dark eyes snapped and gleamed in the
long, dim room. would much like to learn what
you can do, perhaps show you what I can do. I
would like that, yes."
. "I could be persuaded," I said.
She smiled again. "Ah, alas, you have no time.
You do not know what I need to know, you are in
my way, you are the deadly Killmaster. I must HI.I
you, of course. While I have the chance."
"Of course," I said, and made my move.
It was now or never, if it wasn't all going to end
here. I grabbed her, putting one arm around that
smooth, slim neck.
"Don't be foolish," Sbe said, not struggling. EYou
have no weapon, I bave none for you to take, and
there are five of my men. They will surround you
when you step out on deck."
"I won't step out for a while. When I do, maybe
Ill be alone. The advantage of surprise. Ill have
that."
"No," she said. "You won't."
She clapped her hands twice before I could stop
her. I had only seconds. I hit her so hard she col-
lapsed half way across the long room. I jumped for
the door as the first one came through. I chopped
him down, got the second with a kick under the
chin, and ... no others came in!
I dove out through the door, hit on the dark deck
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144
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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER
of what was a barge moored at the wharf, rolled,
and tried to spot them as I rolled. The odds were
long, but I'd longer. It was dark, I had the
surprise and there were only three of them left.
I rolled, saw no one. I came up to my knees—and
looked straight into the muzzle of a gun not a foot
from my face.
Was this it? On a stinking barge a foreigr har-
bor?
I lunged. A shadowy figure jumped back. I saw
other shadows. I braced for the explosion that would
turn out my light forever.










CHAPTER NINETEEN
"Steady, old chap," a crisp voice said. "All friends
here."
He was a big, shaggy man in a white suit and
there was nothing Chinese about him. There was
nothing Chinese about any of the four men I saw
standing around mes
I said, a little hoarse. You don't come
back from the edge of sudden death all at once. You
do it a little at a time.
The Chairman's team? They won't bother you
anymore, eh? Nasty bits of bones, but peaceful now.
Any more below?"
"Three. They're peaceful too. For a time, anyway.
One's Madame Hsing herself."
The shaggy man whistled, "Hello! In Greece? This
must be a bloody big pot of jam. Better go check,
146
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+ 110%
NICX CARTER: KILLMASI'ER
"My Luger and h.ife are down there somewhere'
1 said.
"Scrounge around for the Yank's tools, Rogers,"
the shaggy man said; then turned back to me. "Now,
let's get you off this filthy scow. You look a bit dicey,
expect you could stand a sit down and a drop.
We've got a launch portside."
It was a long, low black boat that looked like it
had enough engine to run away from a PT boat. The
rear cockpit was covered and the shaggy man waved
me to a padded chair, poured a stiff scotch from a
giant leather-covered flask. He grinned.
"Medicine, eh? Knock it back, youll be right in a
tic."
I took a long drink. It was damned good scotch.
m•itish?" I said. EMr.—? Or is it Major or sonw
thing?"
"Queen's cloak-and-dagger it is. Welsh, actually,
myself. Means something to us, not to you. Jones
will do, bother the rank and all that. Ah, here're my
fellows. All locked up?"
A skinny little man nodded. Tound one Of them,
dead. Broken neck. ne other two were gone, in-
cluding the Madame."
"Bother!" the shaggy man, Jones, said. "Well,
bang on, we've got a bit of a bumpy road for a
time."
ne black boat slid away from the scow, as silent
as a ghost ship, then turned on full power. It seemed
to jump out of the water like a Hovercraft. It wasn't;
it was just all engine and fast. It tore through the
dark harbor, bouncing like a gazelle from wave to
wave, shaving the looming masses Of big freighters.
The big man, Jones, didn't seem to even notice.
"How about my weapons?" I said. •They find
them?"
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bane. Roger h
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147
"All ship-sbape. Rogers has them tucked away."
"I'd feel better if I had them tucked away," I said
"Theyll be quite safe with Rogers for now, old
man," Jones said.
The shaggy Britisher smiled in the dark cockpit of
the speeding, bouncing boat, but then he looked
away, watching something out in the murky harbor.
I felt a sudden chill and it wasn't from the speed or
the night. Call it that sixth sense of mine—and some
solid evidence, too. Jones and his men had been aw-
fully convenient on the barge when I needed them,
there in a pretty opportune nick Of time. They'd
taken the Chinese agents neatly, or so it seemed.
Maybe they were good at their work. On the other
hand, it looked as if I wasn't exactly "free" after all.
gyou don't want to give me my weapons, Mr.
Jones?" I said.
There now, you've got the wind up. Look, this is
bloody embarrassing, Carter, but it can't be helped.
You just lie back and enjoy your whisky."
I felt colder. "I don't remember telling you my
name, or you asking me. You know me. You knew
me before you got me off that barge."
He stood silently in the slamming, plunging boat.
"And I still don't get my weapons," I said.
"Afraid not just now. Sorry."
"I don't expect it would do me much good to ask
to be dropped off ashore."
"Not much, no. Look, this is deuced awkward,
Carter, but we've got our orders."
"From who?" I said. "Blood Eagle?'
He was silent again. "Now what would that be,
old man?"
"Yeah," I said. Was I out Of the frying pan and
into the fire? "How did you happen to find that
barge, Jones?"
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NICK CARTER:
eWe've been keeping a string on Stig Suderman.
Saw you both arrive, saw Suderman leave. With the
Red China chaps in the picture, it looked like time
for a Robin Hood."
It could be tn.xe; the Englishman bad a convino-
ing voice. All fun and games and jolly adventure.
Everything strictly on the up and up. It's a myth the
English have built for centuries about themselves
and made most of the world buy it until the rude
awakening. You don't build the biggest empire the
world ever knew by being nice guys. ne British
know as many dirty tricks as anyone, maybe more,
and the empire may be gone now, but they haven't
forgotten how it's done.
TTe black boat bounced on, slamming from wave
to wave, and leaving a long, gleaming wake far be-
hind in the night. We were out past all the ships
now, skirting a dark headland, and Jones didn't
seem to want to talk anymore. That was okay with
me, I had my own thoughts to work on—how to get
my hands on my tools, or anyone's tools of this work
I thought about it, but not for long.
Around the headland, the black boat suddenly
slowed, dropped down into the heaving waves, and
began to swing in toward. shore in a long arc. I saw
a light at the end of a pier and above it the dark
shape of a house. ne boat slid into the pier. I
tensed. If they took their eyes off me for a second,
the dark water of the cove was a way out. I ....
-No night for a swim, old man," Jones said beside
me.
He was watching me; there were men on the pier
and out in the cove a small boat cruised around.
"Well walk up to the house, eh?" Jones said.
We did. It was a big old house without lights.
Jones and bis men walkd me inside into an enor-
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mous beamed
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149
mous beamed room with all its furniture under
white dust covers looking ghostly in the night. We
didn't stop there and passed on through other rooms
all closed up and covered as if the owners had gone
away for the season. Our walk ended in a
kitchen far at the rear of the house.
Take a chair, Carter," Jones said. "I expect you're
a bit peckish, eh? Nothing solid, I'm afraid, but
there are biscuits on the sideboard over there, a few
sandwiches, and tea's almost ready.*
I saw the kettle steaming on a gasoline field stove.
I also saw that the kitchen windows were all
boarded up, and the rear door locked and covered,
as if to keep anyone from seeing in—or me from get-
ung out.
"Just take your shoes off—be back in a tic," Jones
said.
I was alone. didn't miss the click Of the lock in
the door Jones had gone through. Okay, I was still a
prisoner. Why? Had I found Blood Eagle? The
British themselves, some desperate game to regain
their lost power? I couldn't believe that, not the
British government. Not even MI-5. But some crazy,
fanatic group of dissident throwbacks?
As if to answer my silent questions, the door
opened, and the man who can-le in wasn't Jones. He
wasn't anyone I'd seen before this night. But he was
someone I knew.
"Hello, N3," he said, walking over to the stove.
eMilk or lemon?'
He was a small, slender little man, with a mild,
narrow face behind steel-rimmed glasses. He looked
like some myopic little clerk who'd spent forty years
seated at a small desk in some corner of the same
dusty offce, rode the bus home every evening, and
carried an umbrella when it looked like rain. He
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vrcx CARTER: KIILMASTER
looked like that, except for the wide, bristling caval-
ryman's mustache, and a crisp yet catlike walk that
told of a superb body under the meek clothes. He
was anything but a mild man.
'Lemon," I said. "How've you been, General?"
General F.E.A. Wyndham, head of MI-5! Now it
was four of a kind in Greece chasing Blood Eagle.
Hawk, Vortov, Madame Hsing, and now Wyndham.
A couple more intelligence chiefs and we'd have
most of the secret services in the world on the trail
of Blood Eagle.
"As well as can be expected in this iob at my age,"
Wyndham said, pouring the tea. for the
sale on our double."
&ffank David Hawk. I take orders."
"Quite," he said and handed me my tea. He sat
down, sipping his tea. "I bear you think MI-5 might
be Blood Eagle."
"I didn't say that, General."
ENO," Wyndham said, sipped. CBut you wouldn't,
would you? Not even if you thought it. Doubts,
though, are hard to allay. My men seemed very op-
portune, yes? Seemed to keep you captive?"
"I'm here," I said. "No apologies, no weapons."
wanted to speak to you. Jones was simply fol-
lowing standard routine for any non-MI-5 man
meeting me—no weapons, no prior knowledge of
where, when or who you were meeting."
"All right," I said.
"But not fully?" the General said. "Shall we say
that you reserve your judgrnent and I shall reserve
mine? Not exactly trust each other, but cooperate on
that basis? Keep our own secrets?"
"AXE could be Blood Eagle, too?" I said:
' world has many surprises. The Rushes were,
after all, your people, in your State Department. You
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151
happened to be with both of them when they died,
right? Gives one pause."
"Friendly mistrust," I said.
- A certain private detente," Wyndham said,
smiling thinly behind that bristling mustache of his,
and he reached into his jacket pockets. He produced
my Luger and stiletto. "A token of innocence. Of
course, we are well covered in here."
I took my weapons and stowed them away. I
didn't doubt that Jones and his boys were watching
us from out of sight. In our world, yesterday's friend
can be tomorrow?s enemy. Wyndham finished his
tea, then produced a pipe he began to light.
"I want to lay out our common knowledge where
we can trot around it, without risking a meeting
with David Hawk before we gather in I-andon," the
General said. "We have lost two people in what we
now know were assassinations—a fire-eating Admiral,
and a far-left MP. Both were noted for extremism,
but totally opposed to each other. Admiral
wanted the empire again, no matter what it cost,
and the MP wanted us to marry China. The Chinese
appear to have lost some leaders, too."
I told him about our losses and the Soviet losses
Irina had revealed to me. We both bad names from
other countries all over the world.
"All seem to have some link to the Rushes, or the
NKVD agent, or Blood Eagle in general," I said.
g And we have word that an American big-wig is
scheduled for wipe-out soon."
"We've just gotten the same information about
some high British offcial," Wyndham said grimly.
"So we've all been hit—all the major powers, not to
mention a lot of minor governments. And the victims
seem to be of all shades—rightists and leftists, gov-
ernment men and businessmen, soldiers and engi-
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CARTER:
neers. Yet, there should be a pattern, something that
fits them all."
"A pattern we had better find—and soon," I said.
"Yes," Wymdham agreed and smoked his pipe. «I
think I had best take all tbe names, run all their dos-
siers through our computer at MI-5. It will take a
few days. By then David Hawk will be in London
for the secret meet Of NATO security chiefs and we
can see what we come up with."
"You think that 11 tell us who's behind it all?"
EI don't how," Wyndham said.
I stood up, watching the peppery little General.
Then I'd better see what I can do. We may not
have a lot of üme to stop more murders."
"How will you work?
'Thaes one of the secrets I keep to myself, Gen-
eral."
He laughed. every good. Of course. Carry on, NB.
I think Jones has a car for you to use. Mustn't be
seen together, eh?h
I went out into the next room. Jones wak waiting.
•He took me out the main entrance to the big house
on the side away from the sea. My Maserati stood
there.
"I had it picked up, brought here," Jones said.
"Not a word. Piece of cake, old man."
I drove back to Athens. My only lead was still Di-
ana and Mike Rush—who were they working for, and
why? Blood Eagle, sure, but who was behind Blood
Eagle? Now there were four major power intelli-
gence operations in Athens, all claiming to be after
the assassins from Blood Eagle, all denying any con-
nection to the Rushes.
Was one of them lying? It almost had to be. Some
internal power struggle, some attempt to seize
tRIPLE CROSS
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153
greater power, and one of them had had their own
people killed to hide their complicity?
Probably, but which one?
Maybe the key I had found under Diana's desk
drawer would give me an answer.





435