Nick Carter - The Defector

“You mean Kathy?”

She nodded. “She’s more his type — quiet, reserved. I’ll bet she was a virgin when they got married. I’ll have to ask her.”

Nick asked, “How long did you go with him?”

“I don’t know, probably a month or two.”

“Long enough to learn that he was toying with the idea of the compound.”

She smiled again. “Well, I was sent there to get an education.”

Nick finished his rice and pushed the bowl away. He lit one of his gold-tipped cigarettes. Sheila took the one offered her, and as he was about to light her cigarette, he knocked the small automatic out of her hand. It slid off the end of the table and bounced on the deck. Nick reached over to pick it up but stopped before his hand touched it. Ling stood in the opening to the cabin with the .45 in his hand.

“I kill,” he said, cocking the hammer.

“No!” Sheila cried. “Not yet.” She moved quickly to stand between Nick and Ling. To Nick she said, “That wasn’t very bright, baby. You aren’t going to make us tie you up, are you?” She tossed Ling her small automatic and in Chinese told him to wait just outside the cabin. She promised him that very soon he would be allowed to kill Nick.

Ling, grunted and stepped out of sight.

Sheila stood in front of Nick smoothing her tight lavender shift. Her legs were slightly apart and the silk clung to her body as though it was wet. Nick knew now that she wore nothing under it. In a husky voice, she said, “I don’t want him to have you until I’m finished with you.” She cupped her hands just under her breasts. “I’m supposed to be pretty good.”

“I’ll just bet you are,” Nick said. “But what about your boy friend? He’s already eager enough to see me dead.”

Nick was standing against one of the bunks. Sheila moved close to him, pressing her body against his. He felt the fire building inside him.

“I can handle him,” she said in a husky whisper. She moved her hands under his shirt to his chest. “I haven’t been kissed by an American in a very long time.”

Nick pressed his lips to hers. He worked his mouth against hers. His hand went to her back, then slid slowly downward. She moved closer to him.

“How many others agents are working with you?” she whispered in his ear.

Nick kissed her neck, her throat. His hands moved up to her breast. “I didn’t hear the question,” he answered in an equally low whisper.

She stiffened and tried weakly to push herself away. Her breathing was heavy. “I… have to know,” she said.

Nick held her close. His hand moved under her shift, touching bare flesh. Slowly he started lifting the shift up.

“Later,” she said hoarsely. “You’ll tell me later after you find out how good I am.”

“We’ll see.” Nick laid her gently on the bed and finished removing the shift.

She was good, all right. Her body was blemish-free and thin-boned. She arched it against him and groaned in his ear. She writhed with him and pushed her firm, well-shaped breasts against his chest. And when she reached the pinnacle of satisfaction, she scratched her long fingernails along his back, almost raising herself off the bunk, her teeth biting the lobe of his ear. Then she fell limp under him, her eyes closed, her arms at her sides. As Nick was about to climb out of the bunk, Ling entered the cabin, his face red with rage.

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work. The .45 was aimed at Nick’s belly. He uttered profanity in Chinese at Nick.

Also in Chinese, Sheila ordered him from the cabin. She had come alive again and was pulling the shift over her head.

“What do you think I am?” Ling protested in his Cantonese dialect.

“You are what I say you are. You do not own or control me. Get out.”

“But with this… spy, this foreign agent.”

“Out!” she ordered. “Get out! I will tell you when you may kill him.”

Ling tightened his lips over his teeth and stomped out of the cabin.

Sheila looked at Nick, smiling slightly. She had a flush on her cheeks. Her emerald eyes still held the glaze of satisfaction. She smoothed the silk shift and straightened her hair.

Nick sat at the table and lit a cigarette. Sheila came to sit opposite him.

“I enjoyed that,” she said. “It’s a pity we have to kill you. I could easily get used to having you around. However, I can’t play games with you any longer. Again, how many agents are working with you?”

“None,” Nick answered. “I’m alone.”

Sheila smiled, shaking her head. “It’s hard to believe one man has done everything you have. But let’s say you’re telling the truth. What did you hope to accomplish by smuggling yourself aboard?”

The junk had ceased its bobbing. It was running over smooth water. Nick couldn’t see outside the cabin but he figured they were about to enter the small harbor at Whampoa or Huang-pu. They would pass big ships here. This was as far upriver as the big ships could go. He judged they were roughly twelve miles from Kwangchow.

“I’m waiting,” Sheila said.

Nick said, “You know why I smuggled aboard. I told you I’m working alone. If you don’t believe me, then don’t.”

“Surely you can’t expect me to believe your government would send one man to rescue John’s wife and boy.”

“You can believe what you will.” Nick wanted to be out on deck. He wanted to see where they were heading from Whampoa. “You think your boyfriend would shoot me if I tried to stretch my legs?”

Sheila tapped her fingernail against her front teeth. She was studying him. “Probably,” she said. “But I’ll go with you.” As he started to rise, she said, “You know, sweetheart, it would have been much more pleasant if you had answered my questions here. Once we get where we are going, it won’t be pleasant.”

The late-afternoon sun was ducking in and out from dark rain clouds as Nick went on deck. The two crewmen were forward checking the depth of the river. The ugly eye of Ling’s .45 followed Nick closely. He was on the rudder.

Nick went to the port side, flipped his cigarette into the river and watched the passing bank.

They were moving away from Whampoa and the big ships. They overtook small sampans loaded with families, the men sweating as they worked against the current. Nick figured at this pace it would take another full day to get to Kwangchow, if that was where they were heading. That would be tomorrow. And what was tomorrow? Sunday! He had slightly more than forty-eight hours to locate Kathy Loo and Mike and get them back to Hong Kong. That meant he’d have to cut this traveling time in half.

He felt Sheila standing next to him, tracing her fingers lightly along his arm. She had other plans for him. He glanced over at Ling. Ling had other plans for him, too. Things did not look good.

Sheila wrapped herself around his arm, working her breasts against it. “I’m bored,” she said softly. “Entertain me.”

The snout of Ling’s .45 followed Nick’s back as he walked with Sheila into the cabin. Once inside, Nick said, “Do you get some kind of kick out of torturing that guy?”

“Who? Ling?” She began unbuttoning his shirt. “He knows his place.” She ran her hands along the hair on his chest.

Nick said, “It wouldn’t take much for him to start firing that cannon of his.”

She looked up at him, smiled, ran a wet tongue over her lips. “Then you’d better do as I say.”

Nick figured he could take Ling if he had to. The two crewmen wouldn’t be much of a problem. But he still didn’t know where they were heading. It would be easier if he went along with this woman until they reached their destination.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.