Nick Carter - The Defector

The car was a banged-up, tired, 1950 Austin. The gauge showed half a tank of gas. The silence in the car was almost deafening. He could feel Kathy’s eyes boring into the side of his face. The car smelled of stale wine. Nick wished he had one of his cigarettes. Finally Kathy spoke. “This is just a job to you, isn’t it? You don’t care anything about me or Mike. Just get us to Hong Kong before midnight, no matter what. And kill whoever gets in your way.”

“Mother,” Mike said. “He’s doing it for Dad, too.” He put his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I understand now.”

Kathy looked down at her fingers twisted together in her lap. “I’m sorry, Nick,” she said.

Nick kept his eyes on the road. “It’s been rough on all of us. You’ve both been fine so far. Don’t come apart on me now. We’ve still got to get across that border.”

She touched his hand on the steering wheel. “Your crew won’t mutiny,” she said.

Suddenly Nick heard the roar of an airplane engine. It sounded soft at first, then steadily grew louder. It came from behind them. All at once the highway around the Austin was being chewed up by gunfire. Nick turned the wheel first to the right then to the left, zigzagging the car. There was a whoosh as the plane passed overhead, then it turned to the left, climbing for another pass. Nick had been moving at fifty miles an hour. Up ahead he could faintly make out the taillights of a troop truck.

“How did they know so soon?” Kathy asked.

Nick said, “Another truck must have found the bodies and radioed in. Since it sounds like an old prop plane, they probably grabbed whatever was flyable. I’m going to try something. I’ve got a hunch that pilot is going strictly by headlights.”

The plane hadn’t completed its pass yet. Nick switched off the lights of the Austin, then pulled off the highway and stopped. He could hear Mike’s heavy breathing from the back seat. There were no trees or anything he could park under. If he was wrong, they would be sitting ducks. Then he faintly heard the airplane engine. The engine noise grew louder. Nick felt himself beginning to sweat. The plane was low. It zoomed over them and kept dropping. Then Nick saw fire spitting from the front of its wings. From that distance he couldn’t see the truck. But he saw the orange ball of flame roll into the air and he heard the deep thunder of explosion. The plane climbed to make another pass.

“We’d better sit tight for awhile,” Nick said.

Kathy had buried her face in her hands. They could all see the truck burning just over the horizon.

The plane was higher as it made its final pass. It flew past the Austin, then the burning truck, and kept going. Nick moved the Austin slowly forward. He stayed to the side of the highway, driving at under thirty. He kept the lights off. They moved painfully slowly until they approached the burning truck. Bodies were scattered all over the highway and along the sides. Some had already burned black, others were still burning. Kathy kept her face in her hands so she couldn’t see. Mike leaned on the front seat, looking with Nick through the windshield. Nick crisscrossed the Austin back and forth across the highway, trying to get through the area without running over any of the bodies. He made it through, then picked up speed, keeping the headlights off. Up ahead he could see the blinking lights of Shench’ Uan.

As they drove closer to the city, Nick tried to visualize what the border would be like. It would be senseless to try to bluff their way through. Every soldier in China was probably looking for them. They would have to crash through. If he remembered right, this border was merely a large gate in the fence. There would be a barrier, of course, but on the other side of the gate there would be nothing, at least not until they got to Fan Ling on the Hong Kong side. That would be six or seven miles from the gate.

They were approaching Shench’ Uan now. It contained one main street, and at the end of it Nick could see a guard rail across it. He pulled over to the side and stopped. There were about ten soldiers milling around the gate, their rifles hung on their shoulders. A machine gun was set up in front of the guard hut. Because of the late hour, the street through town was dark and deserted, but the area around the gate was well lighted.

Nick rubbed his tired eyes. “This is it,” he said. “We don’t have much in the way of weapons.”

“Nick.” It was Mike. “There are three rifles on the back seat here.”

Nick turned in his seat. “Good boy, Mike. They will help.” He looked at Kathy. She was still watching the guard rail. “Are you all right?” he asked.

She turned to him. Her lower lip was between her teeth, her eyes started to fill with tears. Moving her head from side to side, she said, “Nick, I… I don’t think I can go through with it.”

Killmaster took her hand. “Listen, Kathy, this is the end of it. Once we get through that gate it will be over. You’ll be with John again. You can go home.”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“Can you drive?” he asked.

She nodded again.

Nick climbed over to the back seat. He checked the three rifles. They were ancient Russian-made but looked in good condition. He turned to Mike. “Roll down the windows on the left side there.” Mike did it. Meanwhile Kathy slid behind the wheel. Nick said, “I want you to sit on the floor, Mike, with your back against the door.” Mike did as he was told. “Keep your head under that window.” Killmaster untied the shirt-sack from around his waist. He set the four grenades side-by-side between Mike’s legs. “Here’s what you do, Mike,” he said. “When I give you the word, you pull the pin on the first grenade, count to five, then toss it over your shoulder and out the window, count to ten, pick up the second one, and do it again until they’re ah gone. Have you got that straight?”

“Yes, sir.”

Killmaster turned to Kathy. He put a hand gently on her shoulder. “You see,” he said, “It’s a straight line from here to the gate. I want you to start off in low, then shift to second. When the car is heading straight for the gate, I’ll give you the word. Then I want you to hold the steering wheel steady at the bottom, push the gas pedal to the floor and lay your head on the seat. Remember, both of you, keep down!”

Kathy nodded.

Nick stationed himself at the window opposite Mike with the Tommy gun. He made sure the three rifles were within easy reach. “Everybody ready?” he asked.

He got nods from both of them.

“All right, then, let’s go!”

Kathy jerked slightly starting off. She pulled into the middle of the street and started for the gate. Then she shifted into second.

“You look good,” Nick said. “Now hit it!”

The Austin seemed to lurch as Kathy pushed down the gas pedal, then it quickly started picking up speed. Kathy’s head went down out of sight.

The guards at the gate watched, curious, as the car approached them. Nick didn’t want to open fire quite yet. As the guards saw the Austin was picking up speed, they knew what was being tried. The rifles came off their shoulders. Two of them ran quickly for the machine gun. One fired with his rifle, the bullet plinking a star pattern in the windshield. Nick leaned out the window and with a short spray from the Tommy gun cut down one of the guards at the machine gun. More rifle shots came, shattering the windshield. Nick gave two more short sprays, the bullets finding their marks. Then the Tommy gun was out of ammunition. “Now, Mike!” he shouted.

Mike fumbled with the grenades for a few seconds, then got down to business. They were within yards of the cross-bar. The first grenade exploded, killing one guard. The machine gun started chattering, its bullets thudding like hailstones into the car. A front side window was cut in half and fell out. Nick had Wilhelmina out. He fired, missed, and fired again, dropping one guard. The second grenade exploded, close to the machine gun, but not close enough to hurt those operating it. It chattered away, chewing the car apart. The windshield became fragments, then opened as the last of the glass was shot away. Nick kept firing, sometimes hitting, sometimes missing, until finally all he got was a click when he pulled the trigger. The third grenade exploded near the guard shack, leveling it to the ground. One of the machine-gun operators was hit by something and fell. A tire exploded as the chattering machine gun chewed away at it. The Austin started veering to the left. “Pull the wheel to the right!” Nick shouted to Kathy. She pulled, the car straightened, smashed through the guard rail, shuddered, kept moving. The fourth grenade wiped out a large section of fence. Nick was firing with one of the Russian rifles. Its accuracy left much to be desired. The guards closed in behind the car. The rifles were to their shoulders; they fired at the back of the car. The back window was plinked and starred, with their bullets. They kept on firing even after their bullets could no longer hit the car.