Nick Carter - The Defector

“At first I thought it was a gag. They gave me an address in Orlando and told me to go there. I went along with it until I got to the house in Orlando. There she was. And the boy too. She never did tell me her real name, I just called her Kathy and the boy Mike. When the furniture was moved in and the two guys left, she put the boy to bed, then stripped right in front of me. She said she was going to be my wife for awhile and we might as well make it convincing. When I refused to go to bed with her, she told me I’d better cooperate or Kathy and Mike would die horrible deaths.”

Nick said, “You lived together as man and wife for six months?”

John shrugged. “What else could I do?”

“Didn’t she give you any instructions or tell you what would happen next?”

“Yes, the next morning. She told me that together we would make new friends. I’d use my work as an excuse to avoid old friends. When I’d completed the formula for the compound, I would take it to China, hand it over to the Reds, and then I’d see my wife and boy again. Frankly, I was scared to death, because of Kathy and Mike. I saw she was making reports to the Reds so I had to do whatever she said. And I couldn’t get over how much she resembled Kathy.”

“So now you have completed the formula,” Nick said. “Do they have it?”

“That’s just it. I didn’t complete it. I still haven’t I couldn’t concentrate on my work. And after six months j things were getting a little hairy. My friends were pressing and I was running out of excuses. She must have gotten the word from higher up because she suddenly told me I’d work on the compound in China. She told me to announce my defection. She’d stay for a week or two, then disappear. Everyone would think she had joined me.”

“And what about Chris Wilson? Wouldn’t he have known the woman was a phony?”

John smiled. “Ah, Chris. He’s a bachelor, you know. Away from the job we never got together because of NASA’s security, but mostly because Chris and I didn’t travel in the same social circles. Chris is a girl chaser. Oh, I’m sure he enjoys his work, but his main train of thought is usually on the girls.”

“I see.” Nick poured himself another cup of coffee. “This compound you’re working on must mean a great deal to the Chi Corns. Can you tell me exactly what it is without getting technical?”

“Sure. But the formula isn’t complete yet. When and if I do complete it, it will be in the form of a thin salve, something like hand cream. You’d spread it on: your skin, and if I’m right, it should make the skin immune to sunrays, heat and radiation. It’ll have a sort of cooling effect on the skin which would protect astronauts against harmful rays. Who knows? If I work on it long enough I might even be able to perfect it to a point where they wouldn’t need space suits. The Reds want it because of its protection against nuclear burns and radiation. If they had it, there’d be little to stop them from declaring nuclear war on the world.”

Nick sipped his coffee. “Does this have anything to do with the discovery you made back in 1966?”

The professor ran his hand through his hair. “No, that was completely different. By fiddling around with an electron microscope, I was lucky enough to find a way of isolating certain types of skin diseases which weren’t serious themselves, but when characterized, offered a little help in diagnosing more serious ailments like ulcers, tumors, and possibly cancer.”

Nick chuckled. “You’re too modest. From what I understand it did more than offer a little help. It was a big breakthrough.”

John shrugged. “That’s what they say. Maybe they exaggerate a little.”

Nick had little doubt that he was talking with a brilliant man. John Loo was valuable not only to NASA, but to his country as well. Killmaster knew he had to keep the Reds from getting him. He drained his coffee and asked, “Do you have any idea how the Reds found out about the compound?”

John shook his head. “None.”

“How long have you been working on it?”

“Actually, I got the idea while I was in college. I kicked it around in my head for awhile, even made a few notes. But it wasn’t until about a year ago that I really started putting the ideas to work.”

“Did you tell anyone about it?”

“Oh, in college I might have mentioned it to a few friends. But once I was with NASA, I told nobody, not even Kathy.”

Nick crossed to the window again. The small transistor radio blasted a British marching song. Outside the window, the huge man still lurked in the patio. Killmaster lit a damp, gold-tipped cigarette. His skin felt chilled by the wet clothes he was wearing. “What it boils down to,” he said, more to himself than to John, “is to break this hold the Chinese Reds have on you.”

John remained respectfully silent.

Nick said, “I’ve got to get your wife and boy out of China.” Saying it was easy, but Nick knew the execution of it would be something else again. He turned to the professor. “Do you have any idea where in China they might be?”

John shrugged. “None.”

“Did any of them say anything that might give you a clue?”

The professor thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. Then he shook his head, smiling weakly. “Afraid I’m not much help, am I?”

“It’s all right.” Nick reached for his wet coat on the bed, shrugged his broad shoulders into it. “Do you have any idea when they’ll be taking you into China?” he asked.

John’s face seemed to brighten a little. “I can help you there, I think. I overheard the two sports downstairs talking about that I think they’ve made arrangements for midnight next Tuesday.”

Nick looked at his watch. It was three-ten A.M., Wednesday. He had less than a week to locate, get to, and remove the wife and boy from China. It didn’t look good. But first things first. He had three things that had to be done. One: he had to rig a cover statement with John over the microphone to keep the two downstairs from getting trigger-happy. Two: he had to get out of this house as unharmed as possible. And three: he had to get on the scrambler and tell Hawk about the phony wife and boy in Orlando. After that, he’d have to play it by ear.

Nick motioned John over to the lamp. “Can you make this radio squeak as if it had static?” he whispered.

John had a puzzled look. “Sure. But why. Understanding came into his eyes. Without another word he fiddled with the radio. It squawked, then went off.

Nick said, “John, are you sure there’s no way I can persuade you to come back with me?”

“No, Chris. This is the way I want it.”

It sounded a bit corny to Nick, but he hoped the two downstairs bought it

“All right,” Nick said. “They won’t like it, but I’ll tell them. How do I get out of this place?”

John pushed a small button built into the nightstand.

The two men silently shook hands. Nick crossed to the window. The Neanderthal man was no longer in the patio. Foosteps sounded on the stairs.

“Before you go,” John whispered. “I’d like to know the real name of the man helping me.”

“Nick Carter. I’m an agent for AXE.”

A key clicked in the lock. The door was opened slowly by the smaller man. The monster was not with him.

“My friend is leaving,” John said.

The slick-dressed man smiled politely. “Of course professor.” He had brought into the room a smell of cheap cologne.

“Goodbye, John,” Nick said.

“Goodbye, Chris.”

When Nick was outside the room, the man shut and locked the door. He pulled out of his belt an Army .45 automatic. He pointed it at Nick’s belly.

“What is this?” Nick asked.

The slick man still had his polite smile. “Insurance that you leave quietly.”