Ник Картер - Assassin - Code Name Vulture

So that was the big missing part of the Stavros puzzle. The fire had snapped something inside him. It had burned out what he had left of a soul, leaving only a charred core. As he rebuttoned the shirt, I realized why he stood so erect. His entire torso must have been board-stiff from the scar tissue.

“Now you understand,” he hissed at me. “Now you will tell me who you are and what you are doing here on Mykonos spying on me.”

The husky, dark-faced fellow beside him took a short length of something from his pocket, apparently a club, just in case I was foolish enough to defy Stavros.

“Is it the CIA?” Stavros’ ugly voice came to me. “Did you make the call to Galatis pretending to be Minourkos?”

I had to spare myself or it would be all over. If Erika were unharmed at the hotel desk, as it appeared, she would soon be back up here. If I got lucky and she was paying attention, she wouldn’t just walk into the room and fall prisoner to them. She would make a fight of it I would have to be conscious to give her help.

“Yes,” I said. “The CIA.”

“Ah. The truth will out,” Stavros said. “And you are here to initiate a coup against me?”

Stavros’ eyes flashed maniacal hatred at me.

“Something like that.”

“What are the details of this CIA plot?” Stavros demanded.

I hesitated. If I said too much it would sound phony. The husky man raised the club again.

“Wait,” the young officer said with a thick accent. “We have learned certain techniques recently in Greece to gain the complete cooperation of prisoners. But he will make too much noise to embark on such an interrogation here. We have to return to camp anyway. We will take him with us.”

Stavros thought about that a moment. “All right,” he said darkly.

They grabbed me from the chair. I wondered where the hell Erika was. She should have been back from the reception desk. Maybe they had found her after all. But I couldn’t ask.

As they herded me into a waiting car outside the place, at a remote parking area from the entrance, I thought of making a try for an escape with the stiletto. If they got me to that camp, I would never leave it alive.

But there was no good opportunity to make a move with the knife. The husky man held a gun in my ribs, and I was flanked on the other side by Stavros. The officer drove.

On the way out of town along the cliff road, I kept thinking of Erika. It was hard to understand what had happened to her. She had known that she would have had to return to the room immediately when Stavros arrived.

We were out of town about a mile when we rounded a sharp curve and saw the stalled car just twenty yards ahead of us in the narrow road. I remembered that I had seen the car parked at the hotel earlier and had concluded it belonged to the management. The officer slammed on the brakes and the military car skidded to a halt a few feet from the other vehicle.

“What is it?” Stavros asked curtly.

“A broken-down car, it seems,” the officer grumbled.

“Well, get it out of the way,” Stavros commanded.

On the right side of our car was the cliff and on the other side was a steep bank of rock. The officer got out on the left side and warily started toward the car that blocked the road. Stavros, sitting on my right, opened his door on the cliff side and stood on the pavement watching. I was in the car alone with the husky man who held the gun at my side.

“Shove it over the cliff!” Stavros ordered from beside our vehicle.

“I will try,” the officer said.

Those were his last words. As he paused beside the other car, I saw Erika’s head pop up over the cliff. She had obviously been listening outside the hotel room and heard them decide to take me to the camp. She had stolen the hotel car and beaten us to the road.

“Look out!” Stavros shouted to the officer as he saw Erika aim her revolver at the man.

The Greek turned as Erika’s gun barked. A small hole appeared on the officer’s forehead. He stumbled backward and crashed against the other car as Erika swung her gun to Stavros. He was drawing a gun of his own and I admired Erika for getting the officer first, for I knew how she wanted Stavros. She beat Stavros, and her gun barked out again and hit him.

The husky man beside me in the car had kept his gun trained on me, confused about what to do first. Finally when Stavros was hit, he decided to finish me off first and then go for Erika. I saw his finger whiten on the trigger of his revolver. I swung my arm outward and hit at his gun hand, and the weapon discharged, breaking window glass beside me. The stiletto was in my palm. Keeping the gun hand at bay, I shoved hard with the knife and felt it go in under his arm. It was over for him.

Stavros had been hit in the shoulder, but it was just a flesh wound. He dropped to the ground and was returning Erika’s fire as I jumped out the far side of the car. Keeping down low and using the vehicle for cover, I headed for the other car with the gun in hand. Stavros had forced Erika down behind the drop-off again. I wanted to get a clear shot at him from a place where he would least expect it for he thought I was still a prisoner.

As I reached the other car, though, Stavros saw me. He fired two shots, and the slugs kicked up chips of asphalt beside me. I dived to the corner of the car and got out of his line of fire. In the next moment, Stavros was back inside the military vehicle. Erika’s head popped back up from the rocky drop-off, and she fired a shot into the car but missed him. Stavros was behind the wheel. The engine roared into action.

I stood up and took a shot at him. Suddenly the car lurched forward and came right at me. He was trying to pin me against the other car. I fired one wild shot and dived away from the onrushing vehicle. It crashed loudly into the other car. I lay very near the impact, covering my face and hoping the rending metal didn’t slice into my flesh. Stavros spun the wheels in reverse and did a tight turn away from the impact site. He was heading back to town. In another split-second he was underway. I took careful aim, hit a tire and blew it, but he kept going. Erika fired two shots, the slugs whined off the metal of the car and missed Stavros.

“Damn!” I heard her yell.

I got up and pulled the door of the smashed car open. It fell off in my hands and hit the pavement. I climbed in and tried to start the vehicle. On the third try it was running.

Erika met me at the car as I put it in gear.

We roared down the road after Stavros. We kept him pretty well in sight until we got into town, then we found the car abandoned near the waterfront. We piled out and looked the car over.

“He can’t be far from here,” Erika said. “I’ll take a look down by the cafés.”

“All right I’ll take a look at the boats. Be careful.”

“You too, Nick,” she said.

She started down the walk toward the cafés. There were a lot of places to hide there. I walked out onto a small pier where a handful of tourists were waiting for a boat. I was just about to ask for Stavros, when I heard the roar of a motor launch. Then I saw him on the launch at the end of the pier. The boat was pulling away.

I ran toward him but I was too late. He was underway. I aimed the revolver at him, but didn’t fire. Spotting a small, sleek boat near me, I hopped aboard with the owner who was standing slack-jawed watching the whole thing. I still had the gun out.

“Start it,” I ordered.

He obeyed silently. The motor roared.

“Now get off.”

“But—”

“Get off, damn it,” I yelled.

He got off. In that second I was at the wheel and pulling away from the pier after Stavros. I looked back and saw Erika at the far end of the dock screaming out my name. I couldn’t go back. I waved her away.