Nick Carter - Run, Spy, Run

"An airplane flight, leaving three hours from now. A report to your superior — which we shall work on together — and another very special flight back here. Your specialized knowledge of the dangers of flying should make it a simple matter to place you on that flight."

"What flight?"

Judas' eyes showed chips of cold determination.

"A flight from Washington tomorrow afternoon. I have been authorized by my people to undertake my biggest coup. With yonr cooperation, it will succeed. You will run some risk yourself, of course, but that is nothing new to you. Your entree into the highest echelons of the government would make your association with me priceless. Priceless." He lingered over the word.

"Get to the point, Judas. What the hell are you suggesting — what is this so-called coup?"

"The murder," Mr. Judas hissed, "of the President of the United States."

"You're mad!" Julie leaned across the table and spat the words at him. "You're mad!" And then she laughed. The withering scorn of her laughter filled the room.

"Your answer, Mr. Cane." Judas' eyes bored into Nick's.

"First one question, Judas," Nick said evenly. "Why?"

It was Judas's turn to sound amused. His hairless skull bobbed with silent laughter.

"Why? Does the question really need an answer? You know, or do you not, that I have thrown my resources in with the Red Chinese? And are we not discussing the official Number One enemy of Communism? The man who heads the most powerful of nations? A symbol only, you might say. Other men can take his place. But my employers are keenly interested in the death of that symbol. Another man might well be easier to deal with, and even if he is not, the President's death will stun the Western world. I should think it would be obvious to you. Now, your answer, please."

Nick stared calculatingly at Judas.

"And if I say Yes, I'll take your money, and then leave, what makes you think I'll do the job?"

"Two good reasons. One: I know that each man has his price and wants to see it paid. You'll get a down payment before you leave. The bulk of the payment comes only when the job is successfully completed. Two: Miss Baron will remain with me until you report back."

"I'll refuse to go without her and Harcourt."

"No, you will not. Harcourt is no longer of importance to me, or perhaps, to you. But both will stay with me."

"Perhaps I would be willing to sacrifice them for my country," Nick said quietly. "Have you thought of that?"

"I have thought of everything. It is not hard to find a man like Braille. Imagine the delicious scenes that would occur even while the medal is being pinned upon your chest! The delectable Miss Baron will die a little every day, for many, many days. I do not need to detail what can happen to her. Think for yourself. Let your mind dwell upon the picture, savor it, enjoy it..."

"Let your mind do what it pleases, Peter," Julia interrupted, her face hard and pale.

"Exactly, dear lady. The choice is his, not yours."

Nick's eyes pierced the slits beneath the lowered lids.

"And if the answer is no?"

"Then the answer is death. For you, the lady, and Lyle Harcourt. And I shall have to find another man to take your place in my new plans. Eventually, I will. In the meantime, tomorrow's action will proceed without your help. If it fails, I shall try other means."

Nick was silent. Slowly, he turned his eyes away from Judas. His face and body sagged despairingly.

Julie shot him a look of amazed disgust.

The silence deepened in the room.

Judas waited.

Nick's hold on Wilhelmina loosened. At last he drew his hand away and left the Luger lying unguarded on the table top near his right hand. Then he laid both hands loosely on the edge of the table in a gesture of submission. At last he raised his eyes and looked at Judas.

"You've left me very little choice, Judas," he said heavily.

"Hardly any choice at all," Judas agreed. His taut concentration relaxed almost imperceptibly. "Miss Baron, I think that Luger will be better off with..."

The table went over with a crash. Julie screamed out in surprise and Nick was on Judas, his sinewy hands clamped on the gun-wrist before the table settled upside down on the floor. Judas was halfway up in his chair, his right arm with the silver glove sawing futilely in the air.

Nick twisted.

The man had been badly hurt the night before but he was as strong as a bull and struggling with the wild, intense fury of a wounded animal.

"Julie! The Luger!"

Judas kicked savagely at Nick and squirmed with his body like some thick-shouldered serpent. Nick held on and then suddenly ducked and pulled the heavy body down over his shoulders. Then he was up again. Dimly, he saw sweat on the globular face. The massive arm muscles strained with effort. Nick kept turning and turning...At last the thick fingers straightened and the snub-nosed gun dropped on the floor. Nick scooped it up and leapt back, pointing at Judas.

"Don't shoot!" Judas screamed at him. "Don't shoot! I tell you you'll die and Harcourt will die!" He bounced back on his feet and reached out his hand.

Coldly, Nick shot at it.

Judas grunted, tried to clutch his hand, but had nothing to clutch it with. Blood drooled down a shapeless mass protruding from his left sleeve.

Julie was on the far side of the overturned table with the Luger in her hand. The look of disgust had been wiped away by a look of astonishment — and then hope.

Judas was still trying frantically to do something with his hand, but the mask of pain had become a mask of hatred.

Through his bared teeth he said, "For that, Cane, you die."

"You're as dead as we are, Judas. Deader. And now we really have some talking to do. Sit down. Sit down."

Judas sat, not taking his agonized eyes off Carter's face.

"Yes, we have some talking, Cane." His thin voice came from a distance. "Perhaps I am as dead as you.

But remember what you said last night? I'll take you with me."

"Is that the cellar door?" Nick gestured with the gun.

"Forget the cellar door. I am less a bluffer than you turned out to be. Pay close attention to what I say. This house and all it holds is prepared for instant destruction." He paused and swallowed painfully.

"Keep your eyes on both doors, Julie," Nick cut in. "We may have company coming."

"No company, Cane. Just Death. Even now, as we sit here talking, there are strategically planted magneto charges all over the structure. Oh, there's no need to sneer. I'm an expert in demolitions. Big ones, anyway." The white-hot hatred still flashed in his eyes. "Those charges, in turn, will trigger a full payload of TNT. A payload sufficient to raze this entire block of houses." He was talking very slowly and deliberately. "It is timed to the minute. For this one, there will be no mistake. I set it myself. We made our appointment for nine. I allowed you twenty minutes to arrive and allotted a half hour for our transaction. Do you have the time now, Mr. Cane? It must be nearly up."

"Julie?" Nick kept his eyes on Judas.

"Ten... nine minutes to ten," she reported.

"And ten minutes to make our farewells. It seems I planned it fairly accurately."

"Just what are you trying to bargain for, Judas?"

"My life, Cane. We can all leave here alive. Or none of us need leave at all. Even if you killed me now you could never find the device in time — and I am sure you would not leave Harcourt in the cellar to the tender mercies of TNT. No, Mr. Cane. You will have to let me disarm the device — or die."

Julie sneered. "Fu Manchu rides again and falls on face. He's bluffing, Peter. Worse than you did."

Judas' bandaged head sprang angrily in her direction.