Nick Carter - The Defector

Nick nodded toward the open window. “Climbed a tree,” he said.

The professor laughed out loud. “Beautiful. Just beautiful. You can bet tomorrow they’ll chop down that tree.” He pointed at Hugo. “Are you going to stab me with that thing, or put it away?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, drink your coffee while you make up your mind.” He handed Nick the cup, then crossed to the nightstand which held, besides the lamp, a small transistor radio and a pair of glasses. He turned on the radio, dialed it to an all-night British station, and turned up the volume. When he put on the glasses they made him look quite scholarly. With his index finger he motioned Nick over to the hot plate.

Nick followed him, deciding he could probably take the man if he had to without Hugo. He put the stiletto away.

At the hot plate, the professor said, “You’re a cautious one, aren’t you?”

“The room is bugged, isn’t it?” Nick said.

The professor raised his eyebrows. “And clever too. I only hope you’re as sharp as you look. You’re right, though. The microphone is in the lamp. Took me two hours to find it.”

“But why, if you’re alone here?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I talk in my sleep.”

Nick sipped his coffee and reached into his soggy coat for one of his cigarettes. They were damp but he lit one anyway. The professor refused the one offered him.

“Professor,” Nick said. “This is all a little confusing to me.”

“Please! Call me John.”

“All right, John. My information is that you want to defect. Yet, from what I’ve seen and heard in this room I get the impression you’re being forced to.”

John threw his remaining coffee into the sink, then leaned against it with his head bent. “I have to be careful,” he said. “Damped careful. I know you’re not Chris. That means you might be from our government. Am I right?”

Nick sipped his coffee. “Could be.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking in this room. And I decided that if an agent tried to contact me I’d tell him the real reason why I’m defecting and try to get him to help me. I can’t handle this on my own.” He stood straight and looked directly at Nick. There were tears in his eyes. “God knows, I don’t want to go.” His voice cracked.

“Then why are you?” Nick asked.

John sighed deeply. “Because they’ve got my wife and son in China.”

Nick put his coffee down. He took one last drag on the cigarette and threw it into the sink. But although his movements were slow and deliberate, his brain raced, digesting, discarding, retaining, and the questions stood out like bright neon signs. This couldn’t be. But if it were true, it could explain many things. Was John Loo actually being forced to defect? Or was he giving Nick a beautiful snow job? Incidents began taking shape in his mind. They had form and, like a giant puzzle, they began to blend together, forming a definite picture.

John Loo studied Nick’s face, his dark eyes worried, asking unspoken questions. He wrung his hands together nervously. Then he said, “If you’re not what I think you are, then I’ve just killed my family.”

“How is that?” Nick asked. He watched the man’s eyes. The eyes could always tell him more than the spoken word.

John began pacing back and forth in front of Nick. “I was informed that if I told anyone, my wife and son would be killed. If you are what I think you are, maybe I can persuade you to help me. If not, I’ve just killed them.”

Nick picked up his coffee, sipping it, his face showing only mild interest. “I’ve just talked with your wife and son,” he said suddenly.

John Loo stopped and faced Nick. “Where did you talk with them?”

“Orlando.”

The professor reached into his robe pocket and produced a photograph. “Is this who you talked to?”

Nick looked at the photo. It was a picture of the wife and son he had met in Florida. “Yes,” he said. He started to hand the photo back, then stopped. There was something about that picture.

“Look at it closely,” John said.

Nick studied the photo more closely. Of course! This was fantastic! There actually was a difference. The woman in the photo looked slightly slimmer. She wore very little, if any, eye make-up. Her nose and mouth were shaped differently, making her look prettier. And the boy’s eyes were closer together, with the same penetrating feature John’s had. He had the woman’s mouth. Yes, there was a difference, all right. The woman and boy in the photo were not the same as the two he had talked to in Orlando. The longer he studied the picture, the more differences he could pick out. The smile, for one thing, and even the shape of the ears.

“Well?” John asked anxiously.

“Just a minute.” Nick crossed to the open window. Below, in the patio, the Neanderthal monster paced about. The rain had let up. It would probably be over by morning. Nick closed the window and took off his wet coat. The professor would see Wilhelmina sticking in his belt but it didn’t matter now. Everything about this assignment had changed. Answers to his questions came to him one by one.

He had to notify Hawk first. Since the woman and boy in Orlando were phonies, they were working for the Chi Corns. Hawk would know how to deal with them. The puzzle came together in his mind, making the picture clearer. The fact that John Loo was being forced to defect explained just about everything. Like the reason why he was followed in the first place. And the hostile attitude of the fake Mrs. Loo. The Chi Corns wanted to make sure he never reached the professor. As Chris Wilson he might have been able to persuade his friend John even to sacrifice his family. Nick doubted that, but it would sound reasonable to the Reds. It wasn’t beyond them.

Incidents came to Nick that didn’t seem to have much significance when they happened. Like when Ossa was trying to buy him. He’s asked if Nick had any family. Killmaster didn’t tie anything to it at the time. But now— would they have kidnapped his family if he’d had one? Sure they would have. They’d have stopped at nothing to get Professor Loo. That compound John was working on must mean a great deal to them. Another incident came to him — yesterday, when he first met who he thought was Mrs. Loo. He had asked to have a chat with her. And she had questioned the word. Chat, outdated, overworked, hardly ever used any more, yet a word familiar to all Americans. She didn’t know what it meant. Naturally she wouldn’t, because she was Red Chinese, not American. It was slick, professional and, to use John Loo’s phrase, just beautiful.

The professor stood in front of the sink, his hands locked together in front of him. His dark eyes bore into Nick’s head, waiting, almost fearful.

Nick said, “All right, John. I am what you think I am. I can’t tell you everything right now except that I’m an agent for one intelligence branch of our government.”

The man seemed to sag. His hands dropped to his side, his chin went to his chest. He took a long, deep, shuddering breath. “Thank God,” he said. It was barely above a whisper.

Nick crossed to him, handed back the photo. “Now, you’re going to have to trust me completely. I’ll help you, but you’ve got to tell me everything.”

The professor nodded.

“Let’s start with how they kidnapped your wife and son.”

John seemed to perk up a bit. “You don’t know how relieved I am to be talking to someone about this. I’ve been carrying it inside me for so long.” He rubbed his hands together. “Some more coffee?”

“No, thank you,” Nick said.

John Loo scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It all started about six months ago. When I came home from work there was a moving van in front of my house. Two men had all my furniture in it Kathy and Mike were nowhere around. When I asked the two men what the hell they thought they were doing, one of them gave me instructions. He said my wife and son were on their way to China. If I ever wanted to see them alive again, I’d better do as they said.