Ник Картер - Assault on England

Afterwards, we dressed slowly. When Heather had pulled on the jersey again, I leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“We’re going to have to make a custom of this lend-lease business,” I said.

“I’ll see what Brutus can arrange.” She smiled.

We hadn’t been dressed for long when I heard a car stopping. Heather was in the kitchen. I moved quickly to the bedroom window, pulling my jacket on. A black sedan had pulled up in front of the house. There were three men in it. One of them was Novosty.

I rushed to the bedroom door as Novosty and his pals got out of the car and moved toward the house. “Heather!” I whispered harshly. “They’re here!”

A key scraped in the lock. Heather was nowhere in sight. I ducked back into the bedroom as the front door opened.

“It is possible I can get someone else besides Marsh here,” one of the men was saying as the three entered. I glimpsed a heavyset, curly-haired character carrying a bag of groceries. He moved through the front room to the kitchen and I figured him for Koval. “But you understand that this is very short notice.”

I held my breath as Koval entered the kitchen. Heather was in there somewhere. Maybe she had managed to slip into the pantry. I could hear the curly-haired man moving about the kitchen.

“You can tell that to the Kremlin, Comrade.” It was Novosty, and it was said with heavy sarcasm. I saw him as he sat down in a chair near the doorway. I eased the door shut, leaving just a half-inch slit. Heather’s purse, I noticed out of the corner of my eyes, wasn’t on the bed anymore. Had she taken it with her...? And then I saw it in the far corner by the bed where it must have fallen somehow. Her Sterling automatic would be in it.

I set my jaw in frustration. Heather was unarmed and we were separated. It had been rotten timing.

A tall angular Briton with a neat mustache moved to a couch near Novosty.

“I know a chap what might work out,” he told the Russian. “Harry the Ape, they call him. A right sort he is for a bashing fracas. He’s keen on a fight of any kind.”

Novosty’s voice betrayed impatience. “We can’t use ordinary hoodlums in this operation, Marsh. We need men with good heads or the mission will fail.”

“Right enough,” the Briton said, unperturbed.

Koval stuck his head in from the kitchen. “A glass of vodka, Comrades?”

“I’ll give it a go,” Marsh said.

“Yes, please.” Novosty nodded. He rose, took off his jacket — and headed straight for the bedroom.

I made a dash for the closet. Just as I pulled the door closed, Novosty entered the room and threw his jacket on the bed. He pulled his tie off and for a moment I thought he was coming to the closet with it. I had Wilhelmina out and ready to fire if he opened the door. But he turned short of the closet and slipped out of my field of vision for a moment, apparently hanging the tie on some hook on the wall. He had been three feet from a 9mm slug in the chest. In another moment, he left the room.

I hadn’t had time to leave the closet when I heard a commotion from the kitchen. Koval exclaimed loudly in Russian, and then there was a crash. He had found Heather. Seconds later, she screamed.

I slammed the closet door open and rushed into the living room. Novosty heard me coming and was waiting for me. Metal slammed against my skull and I saw Novosty’s arm and the gun butt that had hit me as I went down, pain ricocheting in my head.

I fired Wilhelmina automatically, but the slug only splintered wood behind Novosty’s head. As I hit the floor I almost lost the Luger, but I held on grimly while my legs grabbed for purchase. I had Wilhelmina aimed for a second shot when Marsh’s big fist rammed my face. The impact knocked me fiat and this time I did lose the Luger.

“Try not to kill either of them!” Novosty called out. There was another crash from the kitchen and a yell from Koval. Heather was keeping him busy. But I was in big trouble of my own. Marsh had moved over me now, waiting for me to get up. I chopped at his leg, connected with his shin, and he cried out. I grabbed his foot, pulled hard and he hit the floor beside me.

I got my feet under me finally. My head was spinning, but as Marsh struggled up, I grabbed him by the lapels, turned with him in a half circle and flung him against Novosty, just as the Russian was aiming his snub-nosed automatic at me. Marsh knocked Novosty back over a table and both men crashed to the floor.

I started toward them but this time Novosty was too quick for me.

“Stay where you are!” The Russian was up on one knee, the automatic pointed at my chest. I had little choice; Hugo the stiletto could not be brought into play fast enough.

“Anything you say,” I said.

Koval emerged from the kitchen at that point, holding Heather.

“Well,” Novosty said with obvious satisfaction, “our two friends from Land’s End. It is a pleasure to meet you again.”

“I wish I could say the feeling is mutual,” I said.

Marsh now staggered back to his feet.

“Go wash your face off,” Novosty told him. “Koval, tie these two up.”

Koval grunted. He released Heather and disappeared into the kitchen again while Novosty held the gun carefully on us. In a minute, Koval was back. He tied my hands behind me with a length of strong rope. Then he tied Heather. Novosty had us sitting on the old flower-patterned sofa in the middle of the room by the time Marsh returned, his face washed and a couple of strips of adhesive across his cuts. He glowered at me.

Novosty brought a chair up near us and sat down. He lighted a cigarette, the brand we had found in the wastebasket.

“Now,” he said, blowing smoke toward my face. “Do you work for MI5?”

The rules are that you never tell the enemy anything he doesn’t know already even if it seems insignificant at the time. Novosty knew this but he had to ask.

“We’re with Scotland Yard,” Heather said coolly. “You’re moving drugs, aren’t you?”

Novosty laughed. “Oh, really,” he said. “You can do better than that, I’m sure.”

Heather’s face remained expressionless. She seemed not to have been badly hurt in her fight with Koval, I was relieved to see. Novosty turned to me.

“And what is your story?” he asked.

I looked into those flat eyes and wondered again how this man could be our killer. Novosty could kill all right and undoubtedly had that very thing in mind for us. But he would do it coldly and ruthlessly and without emotion because it was a job that had to be done. There would be no remorse in it, but no real pleasure either. He was a, professional.

“I don’t have a story,” I told him.

Novosty smiled an easy smile and took a gentlemanly drag on the long cigarette. Again he blew the smoke towards me. “The girl is MI5,” he said smoothly. “No, wait. SOE. I recall a dossier. And you with your American accent. A ruse maybe, or are you on loan from the Americans?”

Novosty was smart. I leaned back against the sofa and glared at him. “You figure it out.”

He shrugged. “It makes little difference which agency you’re working for,” he said lightly.

“Let Marsh work on him,” Koval suggested.

“Yeah, I’ll give the bleeding bloke something to think about,” Marsh growled.

“You see how eager my friends are?” Novosty grinned at me. “It would be well for you to consider cooperating.”

“I told you!” Heather said. “We’re undercover policemen. Why don’t you just show us where the heroin is and cop a plea? We’ll recommend leniency at the Yard.”

Novosty shook his head, smiling. “You have an imaginative colleague,” he said to me. “But not a very realistic one, I’m afraid.” The smile faded. He leaned over and carefully squashed the cigarette in an ashtray. When his eyes met mine again, he meant business.