Peking & The Tulip Affair

by Nick Carter

  He saw her tight buttocks and the backs of her moving thighs. He cursed himself for being all kinds of a fool.

  He was only human.

  He started to follow her and then quickened his pace, afraid of losing her in the woods.

  Chapter 6

  Nick Carter felt ridiculous in the black costume he was wearing, but it was decidedly necessary. He had to get into the wing where the Germans lived without being seen. The costume would help. Off to his left he heard rustling. He knew it was Lotus and the Chinese guard she had seduced from his post. He stayed in the shadows till he reached the courtyard. He darted quickly, a black figure outlined by the moonlight He was inside the wing.

  His forehead felt gritty because of the dirt he had smeared on his face. Grin and bear it, my boy. He had the Spanish pistol in his hand and hoped he wouldn't have to use it.

  He found a door ajar and crept toward it, and peered in.

  There was a man sleeping on the bed, his back to Nick.

  Nick prayed it was Bormann. He reached for the pen and widened the door, pushing it inward, stepping over the threshold. He was near the bed now. It was a young man. It wasn't Bormann. He started to turn, but the man suddenly opened his eyes and started to look about.

  Nick jabbed at the man's neck with the pen and fingered the clip once. The German froze, fell back, his eyes open and staring.

  What lousy luck. Nick swore. He backed out, crept silently down the hall, paused at a door. He was thinking furiously. Should he take another chance? He felt he was stretching his luck. Just one more. What the hell.

  He opened the door and walked in as silently as a cat. He heard the deep snores. No, this man wasn't Bormann either. He was backing up when the man sat up, rubbing his eyes. Nick stepped forward quickly, the pen in his hand.

  The man's eyes widened at the sight of the black-clad figure. His mouth opened to cry out when the pen hit home in the man's neck.

  He cursed his bad luck when he saw guards crossing the courtyard through a chest-high window in the hall. There had to be another way out. He turned, hurried down the hall, turned a corner and waited, hoping they wouldn't come his way.

  They were coming his way. Damn!

  He started up the corridor when he saw a wide door partly open. He went for it and slipped inside, his gun ready, just in case. It was a big room with a bar at one side, a jukebox, of all things, and tables and chairs. Some kind of officers' mess, most likely. To the left of the bar was another door. He tried it. It opened and he was outside, on the palace grounds.

  He circled the wing, staying in the shadows when he could, hoping to reach the courtyard and the unguarded post before Lotus and her temporary lover were finished.

  He was in the courtyard now. He headed for the guard post and was through. Up a well-used lane, across a field, and he stopped to catch his breath. Then he moved to the big tree where he had left his clothes. He took off the costume, put on his own clothes, and waited for Lotus.

  When she arrived a few minutes later, he took her arm and they moved quickly and silently away from there.

  The couple from last night were once again embracing by the front door. Lotus and Nick went into the building by the back way.

  In her apartment, he dumped the bundle of black material that was his costume and heaved his two-hundred-plus into a soft armchair. "What's with those two downstairs? Don't they have a home?

  "Her parents are very strict," Lotus explained. "She shares an apartment with them and cannot bring her boy friend up. And he lives with two brothers. So you see, it is very difficult for them." She was stripping as she spoke. Naked, she left the front room and soon Nick heard her splashing in the tub in the bathroom.

  He lit a cigarette and thought of the night's escapade. He had aborted it. Perhaps he shouldn't have bothered. But no, he had tried because one of his missions was to kill Bormann. He'd had to take the chance. It was just rotten luck it hadn't worked out.

  It would be stupid to try again. He would have to forget Bormann for the time being and concentrate on Agent Z. He had to get one of Bormann's men alone and make him talk. He had to find the laboratory.

  Lotus came out, wearing a cheongsam. The slits were high, and her thighs were long, slim, ivory-tinted. She looked lovely.

  "You like it?"

  "Very much. But I thought that kind of dress was forbidden in Red China."

  "It is." She sat on his lap, and one slender arm snaked around his neck. "A friend brought it in from Hong Kong. I don't wear it outside."

  "He wasn't stopped?"

  "He brought in several items," Lotus said. "He paid the customs guards to look the other way. Corruption is one of our oldest virtues." She kissed him. "He also brought me some rice wine. Would you like some?"

  "Sure."

  She kissed him again, got off his lap, and went to get the wine and two glasses.

  They drank, and Nick asked if there was any food around. Lotus made a dish of chicken and rice and Nick ate wolfishly.

  Later, she asked him if he had killed the leader of the Germans. Nick explained to her what happened. He also explained about the drug he had used.

  "They will think those two are dead… and they will bury them," Lotus said. Then she laughed gleefully. "It is one hell of a joke, isn't it?"

  "Yeah." Nick suddenly drew her toward him, and kissed her almost harshly.

  She felt his urgency. There was no talk of the guard she had lain with that night It was not important. It was just something that had to be done. Besides, there had been many men. Right now, none of that meant anything. So very unimportant.

  She ran her fingers through his hair. They kissed passionately. She knew this was a man she could learn to love. But that was just a dream. She was a realist Life on the mainland made one a realist.

  Nick stood up, cradling her in his arms. He carried her into the bedroom and deposited her gently on the bed.

  She watched him undress and then she took off the cheongsam. She had been naked underneath.

  He joined her on the bed, and her body was alive and moving.

  * * *

  Nick took a hot bath, and Lotus insisted on washing his back. He declined her offer to wash all of him. She used a heavy towel and dried him while he stood with a wry grin on his face. I can dry myself there," he protested.

  "Don't be silly."

  He put on a pair of shorts, and they sat in the front room, eating almond cakes and drinking goat's milk. He realized he was spending more time in Lotus's apartment than in his own hotel room. Well, it was more pleasant here.

  "Are you going back to the Imperial Palace?" she asked him.

  "No. I think tomorrow night I will let the victim come to me. With your help."

  "I will do anything," she said fervently. "You know that."

  He told her what he wanted. She was to date one of the German officers. He was to come to her flat, where Nick would be waiting. He would be too involved with her to notice Nick until it was too late. If the idea was too distasteful…

  There was a tight smile on her lovely face. "You know I will do it. There is nothing I won't do to help you."

  "It's a calculated risk," Nick explained. "He may bring someone even though you tell him not to. Or he might tell some of his fellow officers where he is going. When he doesn't return, you will be under suspicion. So think it over carefully before you agree to it"

  "There is nothing to think about," she said, almost angrily. "I am in this to the very end."

  "Let's hope the end doesn't come sooner than expected."

  "I know you are not afraid."

  "I have my moments," Nick conceded.

  "You are a very brave man," she said, embarrassing him. "I have never met anyone like you before."

  "Your father was a brave man. He believed in something and died for his beliefs."

  She put her hand on his thigh. "Can you spend the night with me?" she asked.

  He shook his head. It was too dangerous.

&
nbsp; There was a silence between them. They had met just the other night, and yet there was a strong bond between them. It wasn't just sex. That was just a part of it It was something else, something neither one would be able to explain. But it was there. Strong and invisible.

  Each felt admiration, respect, and loyalty toward the other. They were a team; one complemented the other.

  Nick knew it would be awkward when they parted. It would come to that when his mission was completed. Unless he died. And he had no intention of dying. His luck had held good, but it couldn't last. The time had to come when his number would be up. He only wanted it to be quick when it did come.

  "What are you thinking?" she asked, studying his pensive mood.

  He didn't want to tell her that he had been thinking of death. The grim reaper was looking over both their shoulders. He didn't want to remind her of that.

  "Thinking of my college days."

  "You looked so grim," she whispered. "I thought you were thinking dark thoughts. So I disturbed you."

  "That's all right."

  "Were you thinking dark thoughts?"

  He managed a loose grin. It was hard to fool her. He remembered something from Virgil.

  Here's Death, twitching my ear: "Live," says he, "for I'm coming."

  Nick knew what Virgil meant. Live for the moment at hand, and to hell with tomorrow.

  "No dark thoughts," he said gruffly. "Not when I've got such a pretty doll like you with me." He reached for her, and she was available.

  Chapter 7

  Captain Stryker had never seen the Leader in such a fury. But he couldn't blame him. Two of their men had been found dead this very morning without any marks on their bodies except for puncture marks on the necks.

  The last reports had just been received. No one had seen a thing.

  They were in Bormann's room, just Bormann and Stryker. The man who had found the bodies had been ordered to keep silent about it, but Bormann knew such a thing was impossible. And his men and the Chinese guards had been questioned. It was futile to hope that the business of the two dead men could be covered up.

  Bormann was in a rage, ranting and raving, and Stryker thought the man's face would split open. He knew about the plastic job. He had been in the next room while the operation had been in progress. He was close to Bormann and enjoyed his position. He wasn't as clever as the scientist Walther Kerner, but he was shrewd enough to know that a man of Bormann's genius could carry him far even if it meant always being a subordinate.

  It took a while for Bormann to calm down, but even then he was shaking a bit. "There must be some explanation for this madness."

  "The puncture marks on the necks," Stryker said. "Could that have caused their deaths?"

  "Very likely. Remarkable coincidence otherwise, both men having the same marks. I don't believe Dracula has returned from the dead to inflict this tragedy on us. It had to be the same man who murdered our man Lum Fen. I see the fine hand of AXE at work. A man who enters the enemy camp undetected has to be a rather remarkable man of daring. Yes. Of course. Nick Carter. But how did he do it? How did he get past the guards? And how did he kill the men? A poison? I can't see any agent from AXE using poison."

  Stryker scratched the side of his nose. "Perhaps he got through by bribing a guard?"

  "A thousand-to-one shot. You think he approached a guard in the middle of the night and tried to bribe him?" Bormann's voice was incredulous. "Make sense, Captain Stryker. Nick Carter, if the man is Carter, is not a fool. No, this was well planned."

  "What will I do with the men?"

  "Bury them. Or perhaps you want to stuff them?" Bormann appeared exasperated. "I seem to be surrounded by incompetence."

  Stryker stiffened but held his tongue. He was a good soldier and proud of it "Yes, sir."

  "You questioned the guards personally?" Bormann asked for the fourth time.

  "Yes."

  "No man left his post?"

  Stryker shook his head.

  "Question them again," Bormann ordered. "I don't believe in ghosts. A man of flesh and blood did this deed. Keep after those guards. One of them must have left his post. But which one? Keep after all of them. Break them down. The man who left his post must confess."

  "But why should he leave his post?" Stryker asked. "Unless he was bribed?"

  "Nonsense. There has to be an explanation. And it isn't bribery. No, not bribery with money. You don't plan a mission and then approach a guard with money, hoping he will accept it and take off. That's ridiculous. But a woman can seduce a man away from his post Yes — a woman." Bormann nodded his head slowly. "That makes more sense, doesn't it?"

  "Yes, I suppose it does," Captain Stryker said weakly.

  "But you don't think so, is that it?" Bormann lifted a bottle of whisky and poured some into a glass. "It isn't hard for a man like Nick Carter to find a woman to help him. Even in Red China."

  "Perhaps she was sent with Carter to aid him?" Stryker said.

  "Yes. That's possible." Bormann drank a third of his whisky. "Either he brought a woman with him or found one here to help him. That doesn't matter, anyway. The thing that does matter is he's done damage. I can't have our men get into a panic. I need them for the right moment, and that may be very soon."

  "The drug is almost perfected?"

  "According to Kerner," Bormann said. "Yes, he's sure he's close to perfecting Agent Z. Very close. And then we strike. We strike hard." His voice rose and grated against Stryker's ears. "Germany is waiting for us, Captain Stryker. We cannot fail our nation."

  Stryker almost raised his arm in the Nazi salute. He wanted to click his heels. It would be like the old days.

  "Agent Z," Bormann said, lowering his voice. He was calm again. "It will be our salvation. You can do anything with Agent Z, depending on the dosage." He saw how eager Stryker was, hungry for more information about Agent Z. Only he and Kerner knew the real potential of Agent Z. He had fed his men bits and pieces to whet their appetite. To them Agent Z was a secret weapon, a great weapon. "I can inject you with Agent Z and you would become my slave," he suddenly boasted.

  "I am your slave now," Stryker said humbly.

  "But think, Captain Stryker. What if you weren't my slave but a high government official? I find a way of getting you alone and then I use Agent Z. Your mind becomes clouded, open to suggestion. I whisper in your ear, plant seeds of hate in your brain. You think the way I want you to think. Your whole personality changes. You are in a hypnotic spell that lasts forever. You are a different person. You are just what I want you to be. Imagine that, Stryker. Conquering the minds of government officials. You control them. And then you control their nation."

  "It's a form of brainwashing, isn't it?"

  "Yes," Bormann mused. "You can say that"

  "Science has taken over," Stryker said, regretfully. "Atom bombs. Germ warfare. Everything push-button. Rifles and machine guns will soon be obsolete. Soon even soldiers will be obsolete."

  "There will always be a need for the trooper, Captain Stryker. Now see about the disposal of the dead men and get after those Chinese guards. Don't be too harsh with the guards. We don't want any incidents to mar our harmonious relationships, do we?"

  "I will attend to everything." Stryker bowed stiffly and stalked out.

  A good man, Bormann thought, watching the door close behind Captain Stryker. Not exactly brainy but loyal to the cause.

  He finished his whisky.

  There was too much at stake to allow this elusive enemy to wreck his plans. He was close, very close, to accomplishing the impossible. Yes, the impossible. A Germany with a democratic form of government. Only a miracle could entirely tear it down. But there was a good chance; the recent elections told him that. He needed a miracle, and the miracle was close at hand.

  His gloved hand closed over the glass and it shattered. He would shatter Carter the same way. He would find him and kill him.

  Did AXE know about Agent Z? But how could they? His men had caug
ht the AXEman before he could leave the palace grounds. The man had died with the secret still within him. Or was he wrong? Had the man managed to get a message through to Washington? It was possible.

  Another man had taken his place. Another agent from AXE. Carter. He was convinced it was Carter.

  How much did AXE know? He had to find out. He couldn't afford to let Carter roam about at will, wrecking all his plans. He had to silence the man once and for all.

  He poured whisky into a fresh glass.

  In his mind's eye he saw Carter caught and brought to him. He saw himself torturing the AXE agent. He heard Carter's screams and pleas for a quick death. He laughed and caught himself. That wouldn't do. The others would hear. They would think he was crazy. Well, perhaps he was.

  He sat down heavily in a leather-backed chair. It was a miracle he wasn't completely mad. Hiding from the world, afraid of being caught by the police of almost every nation in the world. Hunted and hated.

  Well, he also could hate. And he hated the weaklings that dominated the world. The meek. The little people. They were mere ants under his boots. He would trample them. He would trample them all. And he laughed loudly. He didn't care if his men heard him. He didn't care if the world heard him.

  It was rare when he laughed.

  Chapter 8

  Nick watched the parade from the tearoom where he had ordered tea and rice cakes. How the Chinese loved parades. They were shooting off firecrackers and beating kettledrums.

  It was better than a mob of chanting, pushing, screaming Red Guards, but the Red Guard frenzy hadn't finished. They were still active in many provinces. Only the army could stop them, but it was obvious they had been told to keep their hands off.

  Mao used the Red Guard to get rid of his enemies. He knew how to handle them, but sometimes they did get out of hand; too many incidents that were embarrassing to Mao.

  He left the tearoom and walked down the street. There were many foreign visitors in Peking, so he wasn't out of place. Although Red China had strained relations with almost every country except Albania, she didn't mind foreigners. The people themselves were friendly enough unless steamed up by the Red Guard. Then they usually went after the English.