Nick Carter
The Omega Terror
Nobody was supposed to know I was in Madrid, and I tried to make sure nobody did. I wasn’t expecting attention, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. I was meeting Hawk in less than an hour and couldn’t take the chance of leading anyone to him.
After dinner I walked back to the Hotel Nacional instead of taking a taxi. I looked over my should der a couple of times but couldn’t spot anyone suspicious. At the hotel I asked the desk clerk if there had been any inquiries for me, as a double check for safety. The clerk’s reply was negative, so I took an elevator to the fifth floor and went to my room.
I was just about to insert the key into the lock when I noticed that somebody was already inside.
I had left a fine coating of powder on the knob of the door before I went out, and that powder had been disturbed by the grasp of a hand. There were probably prints on the knob somewhere, but in my job I rarely have time for following that line of identification. Things move too fast for detective work.
Looking up and down the corridor, I saw that I was alone. I drew the 9mm Luger, the gun I called Wilhelmina, from its holster, and started to try the door. I stopped and glanced at the overhead corridor light just a few feet away. There was a straight chair beside a table not far from the light. I got the chair, put it underneath the fixture, and climbed onto it. I reached up, removed a couple of < screws, the protective glass, and the bulb. The corridor was plunged into darkness.
Back at the door, I turned the knob slowly. As I suspected, the door was unlocked. I twisted carefully so that there would be no noise. Wilhemina was snugged in my right hand as I shoved the door open a few inches.
It was black inside. I listened for a moment and heard nothing. I opened the door a few more inches, then slipped quickly into the room.
There was still no evidence that anybody was in the place. No movement, no sound. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and I could make out black hulks of furniture and a dim light from a curtained window. I eased the door shut behind me.
It was possible that a maid had come into the room during my absence. Or that there had been an intruder, but he had looked around and left. Still, I couldn’t take any of that for granted.
I had a small suite, and I was now in the sitting room. There was a bedroom and a bath at either end. I moved to the bathroom first, the Luger poised in front of me. If anybody was still here, he would kill to protect his identity.
There was no one in the bath. That left only the bedroom. I went cautiously across the sitting room to the bedroom door. On the way there, I stopped again. The room was in perfect order, except for one thing. The Madrid newspaper I had left on the small sofa had been moved. Only about six inches, but it had been moved.
I went on to the partially open bedroom door. If there was someone still here, this was where he had to be. When I got to the door, I reached carefully inside with my left hand, snapped on the bedroom light and slammed the door open all the way.
The bed was slightly mussed, but there was no-body on it. Then I heard a sound from the corner to my right.
I whirled in a lightning movement, my finger tightening on the trigger of the Luger. I stopped the squeeze just in time. My jaw dropped open slightly as I focused on the girl sitting in the overstuffed chair.
Her eyes opened slowly and, when she saw the gun, they popped wide. She was very awake now. I set my jaw hard.
“You just damn near got yourself killed,” I said. I lowered the luger and looked around the rest of the room to make sure she was alone. She was.
“I hope you’re not angry with me, Senor Price,” the girl said. “The bellboy, he…” her voice trailed off.
I almost laughed with relief. The enterprising bellboy of the Hotel Nacional seemed to have decided tired, lonely Bob Price, the alias I was wearing, could use company tonight. I would be properly grateful in the morning for his thoughtful surprise. I wondered how he got away with it in puritanical Spain.
I turned to the girl. There was genuine fear on her face and her eyes watched the gun warily. I bolstered the automatic, moving closer to her and softening my voice.
“Look. I’m sorry, I’m just not interested. You’ll have to leave.”
She was a good looking little piece, and I could have become very interested, given half a chance. But it was late, and David Hawk was expecting me. He had flown to Madrid especially to brief me on my next assignment.
A long leg dangled from under her coat as the girl reclined in the chair, and she swung it slowly. She knew all the moves, and I’d bet she’d be great in bed.
I smiled in spite of myself. “What’s your name?”
“Maria,” she said.
I reached down, pulled her to her feet, and she came just to my shoulder. “You’re a very pretty girl, Maria, but as I said before, I’ll have to look you up some other time.” I gave her a gentle shove towards the door.
But she wasn’t having it. She moved to the center of the room and, as I watched, unbelted the coat and opened it wide, revealing a beautiful, naked body.
“Are you sure you’re not interested?” She smiled.
I watched as she walked toward me. Every curve was sleek, every inch of flesh was smooth, taut, and supple. It made a man hungry. My mouth went slightly dry when she reached me, still holding the coat wide open. Then she dropped it to the floor and pressed herself against me.
I swallowed hard as she entwined her arms around my neck. I touched her waist and wished I hadn’t. Just the touch set a fire in me. I knew I had to end this idiotic game, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. While I hesitated, she placed her mouth on mine.
The taste of her was delicious. With more will power than I thought I had, I pushed her away, reached down, and grabbed at her coat while I could still think straight. I draped the coat on her and she reluctantly pushed her arms through the sleeves. I tied it at the waist.
“Now get out of here,” I said huskily.
She looked up at me with one last appeal. “Are you sure?”
“Jesus,” I mumbled. “Of course I’m not sure. Just go.”
She smiled, knowing she had gotten to me. “All right, Mr. Price. Don’t forget me when you are in Madrid again. You promised.”
“I won’t forget, Maria,” I said.
She turned and left the suite.
I sat down heavily on the bed, loosening my tie. I tried to keep myself from thinking of how Maria would have looked on the bed. Damn Hawk, damn AXE, damn me. I needed a cold shower.
I undressed quickly and moved across the main room of the suite to the bath. When I got in there, «I saw that the door of the medicine chest was open slightly. I was sure I’d closed it before I left earlier. And it was difficult to imagine why Maria would have nosed around in there.
I opened the chest door cautiously. Apparently there was no booby trap. Then I saw the note taped to the inside of the door. There was a message scrawled on it I didn’t think Maria had written it because the scrawl was very masculine:
Get out of Madrid. If you don’t, you will die.
Something tightened inside my gut. Obviously, I’d had two visitors that evening.
I was about fifteen minutes late for my appointment with Hawk, and he had chewed three dead cigars down to stubs while he paced the floor waiting for me.
“I’m glad you could make it,” he said sardonically after he admitted me to the rather squalid hotel room.
I suppressed a small grin. Hawk was in one of his moods. “Good to see you again, sir,” I told him, “Sorry about the delay. I had a small problem.”
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