The Weapon of Night

by Nick Carter

  They went, first through the modern front offices and then into the throbbing heart of the plant. Within its depths there were no windows to the outer world but the pleasant glow of simulated daylight filled its every recess. It was streamlined, spotlessly clean and for the most part spacious; the passageways between the installations were wide and free of clutter and only the inevitable ladderways and catwalks were the usual space-saving size.

  “We have tried to make working conditions as pleasant as possible,” said Weston, leading the way. Security Chief Parry walked with him, eyes alert, methodically checking the positions of his guards and the various personnel at their customary posts. Soft music played a background accompaniment to the low pulsating of the machinery. “The place was especially designed to avoid giving that boxed-in feeling that comes from working in enclosed quarters. You will notice the wide passageways leading off at various points. Each one goes directly to what we call a relaxation area — large, airy rooms with easy chairs and television sets and growing green plants and the like. The lower-level . . . ah . . . ladies’ rest-room facilities are also down here, through Passageway B. We have, as you know, a number of women on our staff, largely on the administrative side.”

  “Good, good,” said Valentina, wallowing along behind him between Nick and the company president. “But none in overalls, I see.”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Weston said regretfully. “The men would appreciate it, I know. But the women — nothing will induce them to get out of their short skirts and into overalls. I’m afraid Russia is well ahead of us in that respect.”

  Valentina guffawed loudly. “I am not sure it is such an advance, my friend,” she said. “It may be heretical of me, but I still think women should be women. Tell me, what is the relationship between these two devices here? I am familiar with the one, but . . .”

  Weston paused beside the installation and launched into a technical explanation. Security Chief Parry and the company president added punctuation points. Nick listened with only half an ear. Most of his attention was on the surrounding setup, and on the whole he was satisfied with the security arrangements. Vice President Pauling and Julia Baron stood beside him behind Valentina and the others, and he noticed that Pauling’s eyes, too, were sweeping the area between covert glances at Julia’s svelte figure. AXEman Thunder brought up the rear, but kept his eyes glued on Valentina’s bulk. Everything seemed in order.

  “Shall we move on?” said Weston at last. Valentina nodded, still gazing at the miracle of machinery that had caught her attention, and the group straggled forward in a shifting pattern. The change was slight, inconsequential, but now Nick was half a pace behind and Pauling walked next to Valentina.

  She beamed at him. “So you are vice president,” she said appraisingly. “You are a young man for so much responsibility. That is good. I like to see youth in the forefront.” Pauling cleared his throat. “Uh . . . ah —” he began. Valentina’s voice drowned out whatever he had planned to say.

  “Now that is an interesting structure,” she bellowed, pointing ahead. “What is the purpose of it?”

  A tall gantry reached from floor to ceiling, a height of some four stories, with its tower apparently embedded in the roof. Narrow platforms encircled it at various levels, and on each of them a man walked slowly, looking down. Within the frame of the gantry a cage moved up and down, like an elevator within an open shaft. The cage slowed as Nick watched and it came to a stop about fifteen feet from the floor on a level with one of the platforms.

  “A security device,” he heard Pauling say. “More in Parry’s department than mine.”

  The Security Chief turned to Valentina and nodded. “A multiple feature,” he explained, fingering his neat beard with pride. “Unique, I believe. A watchtower, alarm centre and fire station combined. Those are my men up there, of course. You’ll notice that from those platforms they have a view of the entire works. And not only that. The gantry itself extends through the ceiling to an additional thirty feet so that the duty guard — the cage operator — can observe every level of operations not only within this main building but in the grounds themselves. The cage is rising again now, as you see. The operator will make two more brief stops along his way and then emerge through the roof to scan the landscape. And then he will descend. The cage itself is equipped as a television control room with banks of monitors relaying camera information from every corner of the entire complex.”

  “And not only that,” added the company president. “The tower guards also have control of highly specialized fire-fighting equipment, a sprinkler type of apparatus that covers every foot, every corner of this area. It can be activated from any one of the platforms as well as from the cage. Depending on the need of the moment, it can emit accurately directed chemical solutions, certain types of gases or simply water jets. And of course any part of the plant can be sealed off by remote or direct closing of a series of heavy steel doors, so that if there is any sort of minor fire or . . . urn . . . disturbance it can be instantly isolated and contained. Naturally, those are not our only safeguards. Merely additional precautions to the overall security. Our Mr. Parry designed all this himself. He’s been with us for many years, since the very inception of the plant.” He cast a warm glance at Chief Parry. “I must say he’s devised a most remarkable system, one that has never failed us. The tower virtually does away with the need for the more conventional safety and security devices, even for helicopter surveillances. But, as I say, we still use all such devices — we even have a pair of spotter birds stationed in the roof base, though we seldom use them. Because, of course, the tower overlooks the countryside for miles around, and in this relatively flat farm country there isn’t much that can’t be seen.”

  Foolproof, thought Nick, gazing upward at the ascending cage. Unless, of course . . .

  “So,” said Valentina. “Very interesting.” And her eyes, too, stared upward, fascinated, as the bottom of the cage disappeared from sight. “But what a view he must have from up there of this whole complex. And what a pity that I cannot squeeze myself into that little cage with him!”

  Vice President Pauling gave a polite little chuckle. “There’s no need to,” he said. “We have an observation platform and we had planned to take you up there. If you will come this way . . . ?” The group milled forward.

  Plant Manager James Weston took the lead. “The access stairs and cage are on the west wall,” he said. “But before we go up you might care to take a look at this little device we call the Handy Andy. Andy’s a computer, of course, but a very special kind . . .” His voice droned on.

  Once again the group changed shape almost imperceptibly as it shuffled on its way. Nick drew up alongside Valentina and felt a light touch on his sleeve. Valentina’s whisper was very low, a slight breath in his ear.

  “I have seen that one before,” she murmured.

  Nick tensed. “Which one?”

  “Those are the stairs,” said the company president, breaking his slow stride and peering worriedly at Valentina. “Rather high and steep, as you can see. But there is another cage, as Weston said. Ah, just take it easy around here, madam. I see it is a little slippery. Extremely careless of someone.” His hand went to Valentina’s arm to guide her.

  And again the pattern shifted. Valentina cast one glance at Nick and silently moved her lips. But in that moment Pauling stepped aside to let her pass and she turned her head away so that her unspoken word was lost. And then both the president and Pauling stood between Carter and Valentina in a small knot at the foot of a tall, spiraling stair that ended high above in a platform with a vast door set into its single wall. The second elevator gantry reared alongside it, the cage waiting at floor level. Parry and Weston stationed themselves on either side of it, and waited.

  Nick looked at the cage and did not like it. It was even smaller than the watchtower cage.

  “Tight squeeze,” said Julia quietly. “I don’t know that I care too much for this. Capacity, three peopl
e — or one Valentina.”

  “Well, that’s it, ma’am,” said Pauling. “I expect you’d rather use that than make the climb? I’m sure you would.”

  “Rather small,” the president said apologetically. “To save floor space, you understand. But Parry and Weston will operate the control from below while the rest of us walk up and meet you there. Is that satisfactory?”

  “But of course, of course?” said Valentina. “It is not your fault I am large economy size.”

  “One moment, Madam Sichikova,” Nick said crisply. “In fairness both to the company and to yourself, it isn’t wise for you to go up in the cage alone.” His eyes swept the vast work area as he spoke. The other cage, he noted, was back from its skyward jaunt and hovered at mid-height within its gantry. All guards were at their stations on platforms and floor level. Nothing could have looked more secure and serene. But things have been known to happen within elevator shafts, and Valentiana had seen a familiar face among people whom she had never met before.

  “But there is room for only me,” said Valentina reasonably. “And I can promise you, comrade, there is no way of inducing me to climb those stairs. Nor of talking me out of going up in the cage. It is decided, Carter. Positively.”

  Nick knew from experience that she would not give in. So. at all costs, he would have to keep Comrade Valya constantly within sight. But that was going to be difficult, because at ceiling height the elevator would go directly beyond the roof into its own housing. And for that brief period it would be out of sight.

  “Then if you don’t mind,” Nick said quietly, “I’ll send Thunder ahead of us to the roof to wait outside the housing. Miss Baron will stay here below. I’ll start climbing, keeping a little ahead of the cage. And you, sir,” he said to the president, “you might follow along behind me with Mr. Pauling. I know you realize that Madam Sichikova is my responsibility and that I’m expected to stay as close to her as possible. Mr. Parry — I assume that upper door is locked. Perhaps you’ll be good enough to send a guard up there with Thunder to let him out.”

  Parry hesitated. “Well, this is a little irregular, you know. I’m not sure that —”

  “It’s all right, Parry, it’s all right,” said the president. “Mr. Carter’s position is perfectly understandable. Send a guard up with Thunder; that will be in order.”

  “That’s not really necessary,” said Parry. “I have two men on the roof already and I can open the door from down here.” He flicked a switch on a small control panel at the base of the spiral stair. “You can go on up, Thunder. There’s an electric eye on the inner platform that’ll open the door for you. Close it, too, afterwards, but then it’ll open again for the next man to follow. You’ll find yourself on a wide observation deck with my two guards at either end and the elevator cage on your right. The door to that, of course, will only open when the cage reaches the top. Automatically, you understand. Madam will have no difficulty. And the watchtower cage, of course, will follow all our movements.”

  Then let us start at once,” said Valentina. She brushed past Pauling to step majestically into the tiny cage.

  “On your way, Johnny,” said Nick.

  Big Thunder started up the spiral stairway three steps at a time.

  “My, my,” said Pauling admiringly. “Do you suppose he’ll last the distance?”

  “He will,” Nick said shortly. “Julia. At the elevator, please.”

  Her perfume brushed past him like a soft caress.

  The watchtower cage was rising slowly to match Johnny Thunder’s climb.

  Nick watched and waited. Johnny climbed. The watchtower cage rose slowly, pacing him. Valentina watched impatiently. Julia stood nearby, waiting like the rest.

  “I must say I find your precautions a bit excessive, Carter,” Pauling said softly.

  “No, he’s dead right,” Parry said gruffly. “Mustn’t take any chances.”

  Johnny reached the landing, and the upper door opened. The watchtower cage, still pacing him, disappeared from view.

  The door closed behind Johnny.

  Valentina stifled an enormous yawn.

  “I’ll start,” said Nick.

  He took the first lap slowly, one eye on Valentina waiting in her gantry and the other on lookout for the returning watchtower cage.

  There was a sixty-second pause. Then the watchtower cage glided slowly downward and halted several feet above the floor.

  “Now, Parry,” said the company president.

  Parry pressed a switch outside Valentina’s cage. It rose reluctantly, as if unaccustomed to such weight.

  Nick raced up the spiral stairway. By the time Valentina’s elevator reached the top he would be on the inner platform to follow Johnny through that door. He saw her only feet below him, rising like a hippo in a tank, and yards away, across the huge work space, the watchtower cage glided smoothly up its gantry, pacing Valentina. Pauling and the president were climbing up behind Nick. Julia stood below, oddly flattened as he glanced down upon her, with one hand on the gantry and the other waving gracefully in the air as if in answer to some question. Parry and Weston stood there with her, watching Valentina’s rising cage.

  Nick looked across at Valentina.

  He paused for a moment to let her cage draw level with him so that he might call across to her. But in that moment there was an outcry from behind him, and as he turned to find its source he felt his head swimming as with an early morning hangover.

  He saw Pauling drop upon the stairs, his hand clutching at his throat. He saw the company president grab at the stair rail, miss it, fall and clatter downward. His senses swirled. Through the thick mist that he somehow knew was within him rather than outside him he saw Parry, Weston and Julia slump down on the floor, and when he tried to clamber up the stairs to pace Valentina’s rising cage he felt as though he were wading through thick mud that grabbed at his legs and filled his mouth and nostrils.

  Gas! he thought frantically. Got to reach the top! Got to . . . Valentina . . . must get to the door . . .

  And then the mud tugged at him, flowed through him, drowned him, and he dropped.

  His last blurred view was of a massive female figure slumped grotesquely in a cage, a cage that seemed to climb inexorably beyond his reach. . . .

  The one man who had held his breath stayed quietly where he was until he was absolutely sure that no one else was moving. Then he gave himself a further count of ten, for safety’s sake, and looked around him. The safety doors were scaled. Guards lay slumped on floors and platforms. So did the Brass and the Very Important Visitors.

  He smiled grimly to himself and took the one precaution needed for the critical few minutes to follow. Then he fingered the controls with his expert touch and went about his business.

  Two elevator cages moved through the stillness of the gas-filled room.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Life Is Full Of Ups And Downs

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Hamilton Garvey. “And what’s more I don’t know anything about you. Am I to assume you’re asking me to put you through to the Central Intelligence Agency?” The First Secretary of the American Embassy in Cairo stared at his visitor with distaste and suspicion.

  Hakim Sadek sighed with exasperation. American officialdom gave him a pain in the traditional place; in his experience nearly the whole damned lot of them were hide-bound, unimaginative stiffnecks. No wonder the Americans had so much trouble making themselves understood abroad.

  “Once again, then,” he said patiently. “My name is Hakim Sadek and I am a professor of criminology at the University of Cairo. I am also attached, as a consultant, to the local Department of Police, and I am currently investigating the murder of a German surgeon named von Kluge. I have information which I have been requested to turn over to an American agency called AXE. Not the Cee Ai Ay. AXE. Ah, Ex, Ee. One of their agents, classified D5, was to contact me to receive this information. He was murdered even as we met. It is now even more essenti
al for me to contact his superiors, his colleagues. I have much to report, and it is urgent. Make contact any way you like — do your own talking, scramble it, fry it, code it, use Hindustani or pig-Latin — but for the sake of Allah, make contact!”

  Garvey pursed his lips. He knew about D5 — something about him, anyway. AXE had hot-lined an inquiry about the fellow’s whereabouts. It seemed that he was missing. And now it seemed that he was dead.

  “But why come to me?” he asked quietly, still disliking this repulsive-looking fellow. “What makes you think that I can make contact at all? Oh, we shall write, of course —”

  “No, we shall not write,” Hakim said with icy calm. “We will place a call on the hot line to AXE headquarters in Washington, and we will speak with Hawk or the agent classified N3, also known as Killmaster. And I know that you can make contact because N3 told me so himself when I was working with him on a previous occasion. Every American embassy, legation and consulate in the world has such a hot line for emergencies. Is that not so? And this is an emergency. Hawk himself sent D5 to me, and now D5 is dead. Now, will you kindly place that call?”

  Garvey pushed back his chair and got up, very slowly. Sadek seemed to know a lot about AXE — about Hawk, N3, D5. And he was right about the hot line.

  “Very well,” he said at last. “I will. Wait here, please.”

  He stalked from his desk to an inner office door and closed it behind him.

  He was back within three minutes, wearing a look of astonishment on his broad face.

  “I have them on the line. Come this way, please,” he said.

  Hakim followed him into the small back room and spoke into the receiver.

  “Sadek here,” he said. “Carter?”

  There was a slight pause, due perhaps to hesitation or perhaps to the process of unscrambling. Then a dry voice spoke clearly in his ear.