Ник Картер - The Liquidator

“Yes...”

It was my turn to get things moving. From a manila envelope I’d dropped beside my chair I took a chart and unfolded it “Show me a few things about this coast,” I said in a low voice. “Or tell me what you don’t know. Either way.”

The chart took in the west coast of Greece — from the Peloponnesos past the islands of Zakinthos; Cephalonia; Ithaca, from where Ulysses sailed to make war on Troy and returned after all those years to history’s most faithful wife, Levkas; and a lot of other smaller islands and mainland ports until there was Korfu, shaped like an axe with a warped handle, the blade aimed at the coast of Albania.

“It would be a nice cruise,” the girl said carefully.

“Uh-huh. Any stopovers you’d prefer?”

“No. None in particular. But I think perhaps... three days would be a nice time to take.”

My gut tightened, not for the first time on this mission. More delay, more time with nothing happening.

“Sure you want to go with me?” I was back playing the role again.

She focused her great, dark eyes on me. “But of course, Daniel McKee.”

After dinner we walked, threading our way through narrow alleys flanked by solid rows of dark houses that seemed to lean over us, blotting out the clear Ionian sky. Christina was soft beside me, her hip pressed against mine, and I had to keep reminding myself to stay alert for a possible tail.

There was no one, no one I could see. I didn’t like it.

“Did you... uh... stay at your hotel long enough to hear from...?”

She pressed her lips against mine, but hers were cold and carried a warning. “Do not talk now,” she murmured. “Tonight is for us.”

I couldn’t tell if she was talking to me or to some kind of bug planted on her. Either way, I couldn’t object.

We walked along the quay where I had first seen her, decided not to revisit the taverna where we had met, then hip-rubbed in the direction of my hotel, which was only a couple of blocks away. As we were approaching the dimly lighted entrance, a tan Mercedes pulled out of a side street, roared toward us, then slowed abruptly. It passed at a crawl; I looked idly at the car, but could see nothing in the back seat except an indistinct blob. The driver, a hat pulled low over his eyes, looked stolidly ahead. When the Mercedes was a short distance ahead of us, it slid over to the curb on the opposite side of the street. Only a scattering of other cars were parked nearby, and Christina and I were the only pedestrians in sight.

The girl clutched my arm, dragging me to a halt. “McKee!” she whispered urgently. “Who are those people?”

“Nobody I know.” I kept my voice light; it was bad enough dealing with a rank amateur without scaring her to death.

“But they saw us and stopped.” I could feel her shudder, her body pressed close to mine. “Why are they waiting over there?”

The Mercedes was just across from the entrance of the hotel, its engine rumbling softly with thin trails of vapor drifting from the exhaust.

I turned to the girl, put my arms around her. “Don’t start worrying about everybody you see, Christina. Tonight is ours... unless.”

“Unless what?”

“You don’t have a husband, do you? Or a boy friend?”

She shook her head, eyes probing mine questioningly. “No. Would I be on vacation alone if I did?”

I nodded agreement. “So what’s to be afraid of? We’ll have a nightcap in my room, then...”

The girl shut off my words with a sudden, fierce kiss. It caught me off guard, but I recovered quickly and held her hard against me. After a long moment she dragged her mouth away from mine and began to nuzzle my neck, lips close to my ear. “Is your room safe to talk?” she murmured.

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” There was no point in mentioning my visitors of the night before, even though that had been half a country away.

Slowly she pulled back so she could look at me, eyes shining, mouth wide in a numbing smile. “So we shall have that nightcap, Daniel McKee. And afterward, we shall see...”

As we went into the hotel the tan Mercedes remained where it was, like a squat, lurking dragon breathing exhaust-pipe smoke.

Christina was neither shy nor wildly eager, but she was hardly indifferent either. She was the kind of girl who could never be indifferent about anything, whether brushing her teeth or making love to a stranger. She sat easily on the edge of the lumpy bed that dominated the room while I poured brandy into a couple of glasses. She took hers, tasted it, ran her tongue lightly over her lips like a cat.

The only chair in the room was too low and in a poor location. Breaking one of my basic rules, I perched on the broad windowsill, after being sure the window shade was tightly closed; even then I knew my silhouette made a perfect target if sniping was in order, and trusted my own instinct that no one wanted me dead. Not yet.

“Well,” I said, lifting the thick hotel-room tumbler in a toasting gesture.

“Well?”

It was my first really good look at Christina Zenopolis; the other times I’d been dazzled by too much sunlight and all that damp, toasted flesh; in the restaurant earlier the lights had been dim and there’d been a table between us. Here the light was subdued, but not too much so, and there was nothing to interfere with the view. Even the unadorned, dark blue dress she wore was almost as revealing as the afternoon’s bikini, and somehow more exciting. With her thick dark hair and wideset, startlingly blue eyes, she was a visual treasure, and so far she’d shown a mind and spirit to go with the looks. For a moment I regretted that we weren’t just what we seemed to be, and immediately told myself to stop being a damned fool.

“So you’re a student,” I remarked, making the kind of conversation anyone listening might expect a tourist to ask the girl he’d picked up and taken to his room.

“Yes.”

“What are you studying?”

She shrugged and took a healthy swallow of her brandy. “I was once hoping to be a nurse, but I had to stop.”

“Why?”

“It was...” She frowned. “Oh well, I finally admitted to myself that I could not stand being around sick people for the rest of my life. You know?”

“I suppose so.”

“And so I... well, I just study. Perhaps I will be a biologist, perhaps an archaeologist. There is no hurry to make up one’s mind, is there?”

“I imagine your folks would like you to.” I said it with a knowing grin, but I also knew she didn’t have any folks.

Christina looked at me sharply. “I do not have any parents, McKee. Surely you know; I must have told you that earlier.”

I nodded. “I guess you did. Sorry. But how do you... ah... how do you make a living?”

“Oh, I work in a boutique in Athens. It’s very close to the Hilton. They’re very nice about giving me time off when I don’t have to go to classes.” She leaned forward, the modest neckline of her dress gaping open just a fraction. “Isn’t that nice, that I should be taking a vacation now?”

“Couldn’t be nicer,” I replied, and taking my cue I stood and went to sit beside her on the bed. She didn’t move or seem surprised, but there were no automatic caresses either. I was getting to like this girl better and better.

“And you, McKee, have you found what you look for in Greece?”

“In a way.”

She laughed. “I was talking about your business.”

“Wasn’t I?” I grinned back at her. “Well, actually, I’ve only been here a few days, but I’ve met some people, looked at boats. I had some idea that maybe I could find a yacht-designing genius in your country, someone who might be able to come up with something new and exciting. So far... but whether I find what I’m looking for or not, I’m learning a few things about Greece. Most of them I like.”