Ник Картер - Agent Counter-Agent

“Take it easy, Nick,” Vincent said quietly.

For a minute Hawk didn’t say anything. He was staring at me again, piercing me with those hard, cold eyes. The pressure in my head and chest was rising dangerously, and I felt like a bomb getting ready to go off.

“Nick,” Hawk said slowly, “I’m taking you off this case.” His face suddenly looked old and tired.

A cold chill passed through me. I turned to meet his eyes. “You can’t do that,” I said hollowly. “You need me here.”

“Please believe me when I say I don’t want to. You’re number one on my list, and you know it. Your record speaks for itself. But something is very wrong here. The feeling I had when I arrived in Caracas — the horrible feeling that something had gone haywire — is still with me. In fact, it’s gotten a lot stronger in the past couple of days.” He looked at Vincent. “You feel it too, don t you, Clay?”

“Yes, sir,” Vincent said. “I do.”

“You’ve always placed a lot of value on gut feelings, Nick. You’ve told me so yourself many times. Well, I do too. And right now I have a very strong feeling that you shouldn’t be involved in this assignment any more. For your own good as well as for the good of the conference.”

“Sir, if you’ll just give me a chance to show you I’m all right,” I said. “Just let me stay through the noon recess.”

His brow furrowed, “Why the noon recess?”

I couldn’t look him in the eye. “That just seems like a particularly dangerous time. Once they’re safely back in the conference room, it’s not likely that anything will go wrong. I’ll leave then if you want me to.”

“I want you to leave now,” Hawk said coolly. “Vincent, go get one of the Venezuelan guards. I’m sending one back to the hotel with Nick, just to make sure he gets there all right.”

“That isn’t necessary!” I said angrily.

“Forgive me, Nick, but I think it is,” Hawk said. His voice was as hard as his eyes.

Vincent had started for the door, and I suddenly panicked. I couldn’t let these men stop me from carrying out my assignment. Something clicked inside, and my head cleared. I knew what I had to do. I had to kill them. A hard, cold determination came over me.

I reached quickly into my jacket and pulled out the Luger. I aimed it at Hawk but spoke to Vincent. “Hold it right there,” I said sharply.

They were both staring at me in complete shock.

“Have you gone mad?” Hawk asked incredulously.

Vincent had turned back from the door. “Come around here, where I can see you,” I said. As soon as he did, I’d kill them both. But I’d have to be quick about it.

“What is this, Nick?” Vincent asked in a low, strained voice.

“The name is Rafael Chávez.” I said. “I’m a Vigilante. It doesn’t matter now if you know. Nick Carter is dead, and I’m impersonating him. Within the hour, I’ll have completed my mission, and everyone at the conference will be dead. Nothing is going to stop me, so move around in front of me, like I said.”

Hawk and Vincent exchanged looks. “I saw the secret tattoo on your right arm when you were washing up this morning,” Hawk said slowly. “No, you’re not an imposter. For God’s sake, Nick, put that thing down and talk to us.”

His words infuriated me. I aimed the automatic at his chest. But then I saw Vincent lunging toward me.

I whirled around to meet him, but I was a split second too late. The next thing I knew, he was on top of me, and we were crashing to the floor.

When we hit, Vincent’s meaty fist smashed into my face. It was a hard blow, and it dazed me. Then I felt the Luger being twisted out of my hand. I held on with all my strength, but Vincent had the advantage. The automatic fell to the floor. I was recovering my strength, though. I got a foot up against Vincent and kicked him hard in the groin.

He screamed and fell off me onto his back. I spotted the Luger, then started to go for it.

“Don’t do it, Nick. I’ll have to shoot.” Hawk was standing over us, holding his Beretta on me. I looked up past the long silencer and into his eyes, and I knew he was dead serious. I stood up slowly.

“You think you can stop me with that?” I asked in a menacing voice I didn’t recognize as my own.

“I’m quite sure I can,” he said calmly. “But don’t make me do it.”

“I’m going to take that toy away from you and kill you with it,” I growled. I took a step toward him.

“I’ll shoot, Nick,” Hawk said. But I could see a hint of fear in his eyes — he was afraid he couldn’t kill me.

I was just about to call his bluff when I saw Vincent staggering back to his feet. As Hawk aimed the gun carefully at my chest, Vincent came at me. I grabbed him and dragged him in front of me to shield myself from Hawk’s Beretta. Then I gave Vincent a hard shove, and he fell heavily against Hawk. Both men stumbled backward, and the gun went off, making a soft thumping sound. The slug slammed into the ceiling.

I moved quickly, smashing the side of my right hand against Vincent’s neck, and he fell away from Hawk, clearing my path. As Hawk was bringing the gun down to aim again, I grabbed his gun arm and pulled, twisting hard as I dragged him toward me. He went flying over my hip and crashed to the floor, the Beretta clattering up against the wall behind him. He was out cold.

I started for the Luger, but just then Vincent tackled me again. I went down but recovered immediately and threw a left hook into Vincent’s broad face. His cheekbone snapped, and he crumpled under the blow. He was hurt, but he wasn’t finished. I saw his hand go inside his jacket. In a single motion I slipped the stiletto down into my palm and sent it flying just as Vincent was taking aim. The knife sliced in under his ribs, and he gasped, his eyes going wide, and fell over onto his side.

“Jesus, Nick!” Hawk shouted, staring at Vincent’s body in disbelief. Hawk had regained consciousness but was still too weak to move. I grabbed the Luger and aimed it carefully at his head. He’d have to die. There was no other way. I tightened my finger on the trigger, but something stopped me. Hawk was staring up at me, defiant and angry — and hurt.

Hatred and fury welled up in my chest. This man stood in my way. I had to eliminate him. My finger tightened again on the hard metal of the trigger. I looked into that lined face and froze, stunned by an unexpected surge of emotion. I didn’t know why, but I liked and respected the man too much to shoot. Yet I had to pull the trigger. I broke out in a cold sweat as the conflicting emotions tugged at my fevered brain. I licked my dry lips and took aim again. My duty was clear. David Hawk had to die.

But I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t pull the trigger. Maybe I didn’t have to kill him, after all. I could tie him up and keep him out of the way till I’d completed my mission.

Hawk was watching my face. He didn’t really seem surprised when I lowered the gun.

“I knew you wouldn’t kill me” he said quietly.

“Shut up!” I shouted. I was too frustrated and confused to think clearly.

I bound Hawk’s hands and feet with his tie and belt. My mind raced, I’d fought like an AXE agent, not an amateur revolutionary. And I’d bound Hawk like a pro, though I knew I’d never done anything like it before. And there was that strange emotion I’d felt for the old man. It didn’t make any more sense than the flashes of unknown memories and the crazy dreams I’d had for the past few days.

Again I had the feeling that something was drastically wrong with all of this — with the people at the clinic, the mission I was on, and myself. But there wasn’t time to figure it out.

I dragged Hawk to a closet. I hadn’t gagged him because I knew the rooms were completely soundproof. He just kept staring at me.