Operation Petrograd

by Nick Carter

  He rose up swiftly and lifted her up onto him, entering her that way, their eyes locked into each other's, her lips parted and moist, her breath coming in little gasps.

  Carefully he sank down with her so that they were lying on the thick soft mat in front of the tub, and he thrust deeply, her body swallowing his, her muscles contracting, increasing his pleasure tenfold.

  As they made love, leisurely, deliberately, with the knowledge of experience, and with their feeling for each other so obvious. Carter could see the pleasure building in her eyes, and it made it even better for him.

  He began to vary his rhythm, at times thrusting deeply, at times lingering for a second or more almost outside her body until Kazuka was nearly ready to cry out with the exquisite pain of her anticipated pleasure, and then he would drive into her again, her pelvis rising to meet his.

  Three times they were at the peak, but each time they backed away, unwilling to let their pleasure go so easily. They would rest then, together — willing their hearts to slow, willing themselves back to control. But each time it became more difficult to hold back, and finally Carter did not stop. Finally he abandoned all control, her lovely legs wrapped tightly around his waist, his hands on her buttocks pulling her up, their bodies meshing in perfect unison.

  "Nicholas!" Kazuka cried out, and Carter could see that she was there with him, and he let go, driving deep inside her and holding, as their entire existence focused on one perfect moment that seemed to go on and on.

  * * *

  They climbed into the tub and soaked and talked about nothing. Afterward they went to bed and made love again, this time even more slowly and with even greater pleasure. It was nearly five in the morning before Carter sank into a pleasantly exhausted sleep in which he and Kazuka ran through the fragrant woods near her uncle's mountain home.

  It was a pleasant dream, and for a long time in the morning he was unwilling to wake up. Finally, however, he remembered where he was and why he had come there, and he sat up with a start.

  Kazuka had already gone to the AXE office. She had left a note for him by the telephone. They were to have lunch together at noon in a small restaurant they both knew well in Tokyo's Ginza district.

  Carter ordered up coffee and buttered toast. While he waited for room service, he took a quick shower and got dressed, checking and strapping on his weapons.

  The English-language Tokyo Tribune came with his tray, but there was nothing of significance in the morning's news. If the Japanese knew that the Russians were running around looking for a missing computer chip and killing American CIA agents in the process, they were not publicizing it in their newspapers.

  It was almost ten-thirty by the time he left his room and took the elevator down to the lobby.

  Major Matsu Rishiri, who headed the Japanese CIA's counterespionage division, had been waiting. He rose and crossed the lobby to meet Carter. He was a small, cruel-looking man with a long jagged scar over his right eyebrow and a false left hand covered by a black glove. Ten years ago he had been a second lieutenant. He and Carter had worked together, both in Tokyo and to the south near Nagasaki fighting a Chinese Communist infiltration plot. A grenade had gone off, taking Rishiri's hand and nearly his life. He hadn't liked Americans very much at the time; he felt the Orient and her problems should be left to Orientals. He and Carter had not parted the best of friends.

  "Welcome to Tokyo, Mr. Carter," Major Rishiri said, a dangerous edge to his voice.

  They shook hands.

  "Evidently your passport control computer system has been installed and works well," Carter said. He had counted on at least some anonymity for twenty-four hours. Now, however, it seemed as if everyone in Tokyo knew he was there.

  Rishiri shrugged. He took Carter's arm and together they walked outside. The morning was cool but sunny. The streets were crammed with traffic.

  "I am told that you spent the night with a beautiful woman," Rishiri said conversationally as they walked.

  The major's driver was following them with his car.

  "I have friends here."

  "Anyone I should know?"

  Carter was silent for a moment. "What brings you all the way across town from Kojimachi-ku this morning, Matsu-san?"

  "One must pay respects to old friends."

  "I'm here to find 6ut about Paul Tibbet's murder."

  "Just so," Rishiri replied. "But you bother me, Nicholas-san. Everywhere you go, death and destruction follow." He held up his black-gloved metal hand. "It's not been so long I still don't remember the pain."

  "You could always have me expelled."

  "The thought has crossed my mind, believe me. But I think I might run into some trouble." Rishiri shook his head. "Instead I think I shall just watch and wait."

  Carter smiled. "For what?"

  "For you to uncover the real reason Paul Tibbet was killed in Ueno Park. And why just now there are so many Russians running around my city." Rishiri stepped a little closer. "It strikes me, Nicholas-san, that they are rather frantically looking for something. I wonder what it might be?"

  "I don't know," Carter said.

  Rishiri laughed out loud, stopped a moment, then laughed out loud again as he turned and climbed into the back seat of his car. Before he left he looked out at Carter.

  "This is my city now, Carter. You would be wise not to forget it."

  "And you would be wise, Major, not to forget that I am your friend, not your enemy."

  Rishiri powered up his window, and the car pulled smoothly away from the curb, merging with the heavy traffic.

  For a moment or so Carter remained standing where he was. Undoubtedly Rishiri's men were nearby, watching him. This was indeed the major's city. Rishiri could put so many teams on one man that it would be virtually impossible to shake them all. But the Russians had fielded a lot of men as well. It was time for a diversion, Carter thought, that could very well kill two birds with one stone.

  * * *

  The Soviet embassy was housed in an imposing brick building that bristled with antennae in Kojimachi-ku, the diplomatic section of Tokyo. Carter took a cab crosstown from Kanda, instructing the driver to drop him off a couple of blocks away from the embassy.

  Paying the driver, Carter was able to spot at least three of Rishiri's teams: one across the street in a black Toyota Celica; one behind in some make of windowless van with a lot of antennae; and ahead a cab whose sign was lit for occupied but whose back seat was empty. Carter had to smile. Yet Rishiri had warned him, so they didn't feel it was necessary to hide themselves. There would be others, though, Carter suspected. Others who would be less obvious.

  He stepped around the cab, but instead of continuing down the crowded sidewalk, Carter turned, watched for a break in traffic, and hurried across the street.

  As everywhere in Tokyo, this area was extremely busy, the streets filled with people, cars, trucks, and buses.

  He ducked into a small shop that sold leather goods. A couple of customers inside looked up in surprise as he apologized profusely in Japanese, then stepped around the counter, through a curtained doorway, and out the back into a narrow alley.

  Rishiri's men appeared at both ends of the alley, as Carter suspected they would. He turned and raced toward one end of the alley, the two men there waiting calmly for him. At the last moment he ducked into the back entrance of another shop — this one a florist-raced through to the front and emerged on the sidewalk just as a cab was discharging a passenger. He climbed in and ordered the driver to the Soviet embassy. Rishiri's men from the alley appeared at the front of the shop as the cab pulled away.

  Carter looked out the rear window, smiled, and waved.

  It only took a couple of minutes to reach the Soviet embassy. Time enough, Carter figured, for Rishiri's teams to regroup and come after him in force. Exactly what he wanted.

  Carter paid the driver and stepped out across the street from the embassy, at the entrance to a small park with a Shinto shrine in the back.

>   Nearby was a stand selling fish, rice, tea, and beer. Carter walked over to it, ordered a beer, and lit a cigarette as he waited for the diversion to begin.

  It didn't take long. The black Toyota Celica cruised by, the driver spotting Carter. A few seconds later the van pulled up fifty yards away and parked.

  Carter was in plain view of anyone inside the embassy. By now his face was known from the airport. It wouldn't take the Russians very long to spot him and come running.

  The same Mercedes from the airport pulled out of the embassy gate and headed slowly up the block. One of Rishiri's teams in the cab was just passing, and it took off after the German car.

  A few moments later, four legmen emerged from the embassy gate. Two of them walked to the corner, while the other two headed directly across the street toward Carter.

  Rishiri's men in the Celica and the van got out and were nervously watching Carter who held fast for another couple of seconds while he finished his beer.

  He looked up, directly facing the Russians crossing the street, tossed away his cigarette, turned, and walked into the small park.

  The Russians at the corner broke into a run, as did the ones crossing the street. Rishiri's men fell in behind them.

  Inside the park, Carter ducked around the back of the shrine where he scrambled up over a tall brick wall. At the top he looked back just as the first Russian was crossing the park, a silenced gun held close to his body.

  The Russian spotted Carter, brought up his gun, and was about to shoot, when a shot rang out and he was driven forward onto his knees, the back of his head exploding.

  Carter dropped down into the small garden of a private home as a woman screamed in the park, someone swore in Russian, and more shots were fired.

  As he was hurrying across the garden, a sliding rice-paper door at the back of the house opened and a pretty young woman dressed in a kimono stood in the doorway.

  She had heard the shots. She looked from the wall over which Carter had come, and then back at Carter. She hesitated a moment, but then she beckoned and stepped aside, indicating that he could pass through her home.

  Carter quickly pulled off his shoes, bowed deeply to the woman, wished her well, and then hurried through the house, two children in the living room watching him with wide eyes.

  In the front garden area, Carter donned his shoes again and peered out the gate. The street was busy there, but he could see no sign of Rishiri's men, or the Russians, though he knew it would only be a matter of a minute or so before they'd be coming over the wall, or at the very least coming around to that street.

  He looked back. The young woman and her children were looking out at him. The children waved and smiled. Carter waved back, then stepped outside, crossed the street, and turned the far corner where he caught a cab.

  It wouldn't take Major Rishiri very long to pick up his trail again, and this time Carter didn't think the man would be as cordial.

  One thing puzzled him, though. He had expected the Russians would want to follow him once he had been spotted in front of their embassy. But the one coming into the little park had drawn his gun. He had orders to shoot.

  Three

  Kazuka was ten minutes late. Carter was beginning to get worried about her, when she finally showed up out of breath. She was troubled.

  "They're out in force," she said, kissing Carter on the cheek and sitting down.

  They were at a small restaurant in the Ginza, the section of Tokyo where most of the nightclubs and fun spots were located. The area was a combination of London's Soho, New York's Times Square, and Berlin's Ku'damn. The area never slept.

  "Russians?" Carter asked.

  Kazuka nodded. "They were on me from the moment I left the hotel."

  "Did you have any trouble?"

  "I shook them on the way to the office, but when I came back out they were there. It wasn't so easy to lose them coming here, but I did. We are safe for the moment."

  "Why the sudden escalation?" Carter asked. "I don't understand."

  Their waiter came and they placed their order for assorted sushi, beef teriyaki, rice and sake. A big lunch, but Carter had a feeling he was going to need it.

  "I think I have an answer for that one," Kazuka said. "Did you have any dealings with a Lieutenant Commander Howard Peyton?"

  Carter sat forward. "What happened?"

  "It was on the wire this morning, Nicholas. He was found shot to death in his North Arlington home. It looked as if he might have been tortured."

  "The bastards," Carter said half to himself.

  "Hawk sent an advisory for you. He said Peyton was some sort of an expert on Svetlaya, the Soviet submarine base. Did you know him?"

  "I met with him a couple of hours before my plane took off," Carter said.

  "It could just be a coincidence," Kazuka said.

  Carter shook his head. "No, they knew I met with him. They probably got it out of him. Bastards." Carter quickly explained his run-in with Major Rishiri, and the planned diversion in front of the Soviet embassy. "The Russian had his gun out. He was getting set to shoot me down in broad daylight in a Shinto park. That's crazy!"

  "There would have been much diplomatic trouble for the Soviets."

  "You're damned right there would have been trouble, which means they don't have the faintest idea where Lavrov hid the computer chip. When they found out from Peyton what I had asked about, they were frantic. They think I know where the chip is hidden."

  "What?"

  Carter explained about the delicacy of the tiny chip, and the suitcase that Peyton had agreed to build.

  "If he told the Russians that he was building such a suitcase," Kazuka said, "they'd have to believe you knew what the chip was and where it was."

  "Which also means that they haven't found it yet either," Carter said. "Otherwise they wouldn't be so frantic to stop me."

  Another plan began to form in Carter's mind. Finding the computer chip in Tokyo would be next to impossible. Only a stroke of blind luck could help them now. The microchip could be anywhere, even at the bottom of Tokyo Bay. It was even possible that Lavrov had fooled them all — his own people as well as Paul Tibbet. It was possible he never had the chip. Or it was equally possible he had hidden it somewhere outside of Tokyo, only telling Tibbet it was within the city to throw him off.

  The odds of finding the computer chip Lavrov said he had brought out weren't worth thinking about. However, Carter knew for certain where at least one chip was located.

  Svetlaya.

  * * *

  After lunch they made their way back to Kyobashi, the huge television tower modeled after Paris's Eiffel Tower rising in the distance to the north. Kazuka made two passes by the AXE office, each time spotting a different Soviet team. She parked a block away and they made their way back to the tall apartment building next to the building that housed Amalgamated Press and Wire Services.

  In the basement they hurried along the dimly lit maintenance corridor filled with cable runs, plumbing, and heating ductwork to a thick steel door that Kazuka unlocked.

  Inside, they took the elevator up to her office.

  Besides making this particular operation more difficult, the fact that the Russians were parked outside their front door was disturbing for normal AXE business. Something would have to be done soon to remove Amalgated Press from any suspicion. Their cover had been built too carefully for it to go down the drain because of one assignment.

  Kazuka led Carter into the back rooms, which were screened from any electronic surveillance. The outer offices were busy. Besides AXE assignments, Amalgamated Press was a legitimate, working wire service that gathered and transmitted real news.

  It was late evening in Washington when Carter's call to Hawk went through.

  "You've heard about Peyton," Hawk said.

  "Yes, sir. He was doing some work for me," Carter said, and he quickly explained what he and Peyton had discussed, and what the navy man had promised to do.

  "What'
s your situation there, Nick?"

  "Not good, sir. I don't think we have a chance of finding the Petrograd chip here. The Russians have no idea where to look. And they've become careless and trigger happy."

  "I was afraid of that."

  "I have something else in mind, sir," Carter said. He looked up. Kazuka was staring at him.

  "Go ahead," Hawk said.

  "I'll need the cooperation of our embassy and Arnold Scott, as well as the Japanese."

  "Has Rishiri made contact with you yet?"

  "He was waiting in the lobby of my hotel this morning."

  "They'll have to be told, then. Is that what you're saying?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "You want to set up a diversion there in Tokyo. Make the Russians think that the CIA and Japanese intelligence are mounting an intensive search for the chip. Meanwhile… you want to get into Svetlaya."

  "Yes, sir," Carter said. "And for that I'm going to need a lot of help."

  "You've got it, Nick. The President has given us a green light for anything other than an all-out shooting war. We want that computer chip!"

  "I'll see if I can bring it back for you. Meanwhile, see if someone else on Peyton's staff can come up with such a suitcase. Get it over here to me as soon as possible."

  "Good luck, Nick."

  "Thanks, sir, I think I'll need some."

  Carter hung up the phone, went to the one-way window, and looked down at the busy city. For what he had in mind, he would definitely need Major Rishiri's cooperation. A lot of pressure would have to be put on the Japanese to go along with this operation. The Soviet Union was barely two hundred miles across the Sea of Japan from Hokkaido, the north island. The huge Russian bear had always loomed ominously to the north.

  "You're going to Svetlaya," Kazuka said softly.

  Carter nodded, and then turned to her. Her face mirrored her fears. "We'll never find the chip here."

  "Is it that important, Nicholas?"

  Carter nodded.

  She seemed to gather up her spirit. She smiled and nodded. "Then we will do it right so that you will come back. My uncle's house is still there in the mountains waiting for us."