Debut for a Spy (40 page)

“
Where are you, Nalishkin?”

“
Here in London, my friend, thanks to a helicopter and
Transportes
Aeros
Portugueses
. I am actually surprised to find that you are here and that you are safe. This way will be much sweeter, my friend, much sweeter than having you in 60 fathoms of salt water. But I must admonish you. That was not a very nice way to leave Marijke Templaars. I thought you had more class than that, my friend. She was very angry when we rescued her. It is amusing. We thought she was deceiving you, and all the time you were deceiving her. Now I must say farewell.

“
By the way, to show you that we are honorable people, your cheque is in the mail. Isn't that how you phrase it? I hope you will enjoy spending the money. Just remember what each penny has cost you when our final payment has been made. Goodbye, my friend.”

I stood there with the dead receiver in my hand. My complacency was shattered. What did he mean? How was he intending to hurt me? He implied that I would be around to regret it. Who was he going to hurt? Not Marijke, from the sound of things. We'd pulled that off. Who then? I had no one that close to me in Europe, except for Kate.

Kate?

Kate!

Dear God! She was coming back today! This is Friday! I'd lost track… yes, it's Friday.

I racked my brain. I couldn't remember her telling me the flight she was on. No, she didn't. She assumed I wouldn't be here. Now what? Phone her grandmother. Maybe that'll work. I clicked for a dial tone and asked for an overseas operator, then directory for Colebrook, New Hampshire. I didn't know the first name, but how many Fletchers would there be in Colebrook?

I was given the number and placed the call. It rang for several seconds.

“
Hello?”

“
Mrs. Fletcher?”

“
Yes, who is this?”

“
It's Kate's friend David Baird calling from England.”

“
Oh, Kate's not here, David. She's gone back to London. I was sorry to see her go, but I knew it was best for her.”

“
Mrs. Fletcher, do you remember the flight number or the time she said she'd arrive in London? I want to meet her.”

“
Oh, let me see. I didn't pay much attention. No… no, I can't remember any numbers. I'm sorry.”

“What time did she leave your house, Mrs. Fletcher?”

“
It was about half-past-six this morning. Does that help?”

“
Yes, that helps. And she flew from Montreal, didn't she?”

“
Yes, the car from the consulate picked her up.”

“
Thanks, Mrs. Fletcher. I've got to go, but I hope to meet you sometime.”

“
Goodbye, David. Look out for her, won't you?”

“
Yes, m’am, that's why I'm calling. Goodbye for now.”

Let's see. Allow 2 hours to the airport. 08:30. Check in at least 1 hour ahead. The flight should have departed between 09:30 and 10:00. How many could there be? I phoned BOAC and asked.

“Yes, sir, we had one flight departing at 10:00 hours Eastern Daylight Savings Time. Flight BA 62, arriving London/Heathrow at 2200 hours GMT.”

I thanked her and hung up. 2200 hours. 10 o'clock tonight. It was already after 5. That meant she was in the air – on the way. I'd meet her. I'd check on the flight's progress and arrive at Heathrow half-an-hour early. Leaving myself 45 minutes for the drive, I should be on my way by 08:45. I had a little over 3 hours before I should go. A bath, a short sleep, and grab some food at the airport while I waited for the flight.

I got to the first two.

*

Lisbon
,
Portugal
–
the
same
day

The two men stood well out of sight, watching the ship tie up to the dock. One was in uniform, the other in civilian clothes.

“
You are certain that these men are wanted in the United Kingdom?” asked the one in uniform.

“
Absolutely, Major. I couldn't be more certain of anything. I received cabled copies of the warrants for their arrest. They have been using their positions as musicians to cover their smuggling activities, and now we have the evidence we need.”

“
Why not wait until the ship returns to Britain?”

“
We think they might decide to defect and stay in the Soviet Union, and so avoid arrest. The Soviets would make it political and use it publicly, despite the fact that they are criminals.”

“
Then we will make sure they do not have the opportunity.”

“
Will it be difficult?”

“
I don't think so. The ship will be impounded until they release these criminals into our custody. If they wish to sail from Lisbon they will have no alternative. We are not after Soviet nationals. There should be no problem. So, I go get your smugglers for you.”

He winked, smiling broadly at the Englishman.

*

London
,
England
–
the
same
day

Once again I felt cheated of my rest. I arose, dressing darkly to fit my mood. I was about to leave when I decided to take a precaution. I pulled open the cord on the sea bag and took out the Makarov with the silencer. The cartridges and the spare magazine were still in the jacket which had been stuffed in the sea bag for me. I left them in the jacket, put the gun and silencer in a pocket, and took it with me.

I made good time to the Chiswick roundabout, and from there it was an easy run out the Great West Road to Heathrow. I was just coming out of the roundabout at Cranford when a great hulking lorry cut right across my path. I jammed on the brakes, pulled hard to the left, and went over the shoulder and down the embankment. The Jag came to rest wedged across the ditch. I jumped out, ran up to the road fuming and cursing, but, of course, the lorry was nowhere to be seen. I went back to the car, started the engine, but it wasn't going to budge – I was stuck tight. Back to the road. There was an AA call box near the roundabout. I used my key and called in. Twenty minutes, they said. I was going to be late.

That was a generous estimate. By the time they arrived, hooked me up, and winched me out, nearly an hour had gone by. It was 20 past 10. The car seemed undamaged, but the AA Road Serviceman suggested I should have the steering checked. I thanked him, signed the chit, and decided to try Heathrow anyway. As I pulled away I heard the klaxon of an ambulance behind me, so I pulled in to let him pass. He turned into the airport lane, and then the clamor of police cars and flashing blue lights came up on me, and I had to let them pass. I began feeling uneasy. Surely if there'd been a crash I would have heard it from the road. The police and emergency vehicles were all in front of the main international terminal, and my foreboding increased. I had a hard time parking in all the confusion, finally leaving the car with its wheels up on the pavement in an illegal area. I didn't care. I had to get inside. There were police everywhere. I saw an inspector.

“
Excuse me, Inspector. What's happened?”

“
Nothing to concern you, sir.”

He hurried off, and I saw one of the airport security guards. Try again. Change the approach.

“Bit of excitement tonight for a change?”

“
Not 'alf, mate.”

“
What's up? Flasher in the VIP lounge?” I grinned at him.

“
More like a body in the loo, mate, stuck wiv a shiv.”

He answered a call on his walkie-talkie, leaving me in a cold sweat. I feared the answers to my questions.

I felt worse when I saw Tony Cippola with a couple of other obvious Americans. They looked very serious. I caught Tony's eye and he came right over.

“
What're ya' doin' here? I thought ya' were off somewhere.”

“
Plans changed, Tony. What's happened here?”

“
One of our guys got knifed. He's dead. Found in a locked stall in the men's room.”

I felt relief.
“Why was he here?”

“
He was supposed to meet… Oh, Jesus! I know why you're here. He was gonna meet Kate Fletcher. She was comin' in from Montreal – but you know, doncha?”

“
Yes. Where is she?”

“
We can't find her. She came through immigration but nobody remembers seein' her after that. We've made announcements, scoured the terminal, checked the taxis, but nothin's come up.”

I felt sick. Nalishkin's words echoed in my brain.

“Any speculations, Tony?”

“
Our guy's wallet and identification are gone. The embassy car's missing. Somebody wanted Kate Fletcher to go with them very badly without causin' a fuss. We've got the Constabularies alerted in several counties as well as the Metropolitan Police, and we've given them descriptions of the car as well as Kate.”

There was a flurry as two uniformed police officers came running in. Tony hurried over to see what was going on. He returned quickly.

“They found the car. Abandoned on a side road near the airport. Nobody in it. They must've had another one waiting for the transfer. They're checking it now for any clues. I don't think they're gonna find anything.”

“
Tony, it's got to be the Soviets.”

“
Why?”

“
I think Nalishkin is getting back at me for something.”

“
More two-week National Guard stuff, right?”

“
Not exactly. I was in the right place at the right time and put a nasty crimp in their plans. Nalishkin is in trouble because of it. He's really pissed off at me. He knows how close I am with Kate, and I think he's grabbed her. Has anyone found that damn list yet?”

“
Nope.”

“
Then that’s another reason they nabbed her.”

A wheeled stretcher went by with a zippered bag on it, the police clearing the way and holding back the gawkers.

“We're gonna get this out to our people and see what shakes loose. I get anything at all I call you.”

He was off at a run. Hammond! I found a phone, ran the sequence, but he wasn't available. Damn! I didn't know anyone else in the organization. I left a message for him to call me at home, and I'd try him again when I got there. I took off in a hurry.

Approaching the roundabout where I'd been forced off the road, I had a flash of intuition. It hadn't been an accident! They'd deliberately kept me from the airport! They knew my intentions from monitoring my calls! God dammit! I forgot my phone was bugged. My mind raged with anger. If I could storm their embassy or blow up that hell-hole in Bracklesham Bay, I'd… wait a fucking minute!

Oh God!

Bracklesham Bay!

The 'playroom'!

That's where they'd taken Kate!

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Cranford
,
Middlesex
–
the
same
evening

I hammered down the A30. Terrible visions of the 'playroom' and its toys flashed through my mind, with an even greater horror of what had happened to Marijke in that very room.

What if I were wrong and Kate wasn't there? Well, so be it. But if I were right, would I be in time?

I pushed the pedal down and shot up to 110MPH. Keeping to country roads at this hour meant little traffic and I maintained my speed for most of the run. Ironically, it was one of the few times I would have welcomed a police car, and not one appeared.

It took me 40 minutes to reach Bracklesham Bay.
I parked the car off the road on a side lane, reached into the jacket for the Makarov, the silencer, and the magazine, checked the load, screwed on the suppressor, and got out to walk. I kept on the grass verge as I got closer to the house.

Reaching the end of the property I stopped to crouch in the bushes for a cautious look. The fence was too high. I looked around for something to stand on. An oak tree across the street. Quietly I went to the tree, managing to hoist myself up to stand on the lowest limb. I could see over the fence. There was a car inside in the driveway. A large one. I waited, taking stock. A glow in the dark. A cigarette. Someone was sitting on the steps to the entrance. A guard. Was there another? I waited, listening intently. No conversation, no movement, just the steady glowing of the solitary cigarette.

Now what? Any attempt to go over the fence or the gate would bring that fellow down on me before I hit the ground. But since he was at the front, why not try it from the beach? I slid carefully out of the tree, went the long way around, and came up to the property from the water side. No cover here. Makes it hard. Anyone looking, I'm cooked. I hoped there was only one guard. Why not? They didn't know Marijke had told me about this place – they thought it was still secure.

Now, the fence. What's around? Driftwood! There's a big piece
– at least eight feet long. I dragged it over, propped it against the wall, then tried a cat-walk shinny up the front. Branch stubs gave my feet traction and my hands something to grasp. Near the top I straightened quickly and just caught the cap of the fence before I lost my balance. Carefully inching my feet up, I pulled myself to the top of the wall, narrowly missing getting cut to ribbons on the broken glass imbedded there. I stepped across it gingerly, then let myself down the other side, dropping the last six feet and rolling to break the fall and the noise. I was in.

Next, the guard. Very gently I eased along the side of the house, taking care not to allow any twig snaps to warn him of my presence. Every few seconds I'd pause to listen, then keep going. Beside a shuttered basement window I heard a muffled moan, then a cry. A female voice. I had to bite my lip to hang on. I wanted to rush in screaming, but that wasn't the way. Inching forward to the corner of the house, I peeked around. He was still sitting, just lighting another cigarette. I drew the gun from my belt, slipped off the safety, and stepped out.

“Good evening,” I said, and shot him in the head.

He fell over without a sound. I ran to him, no pulse, then went through his pockets. Keys. Two sets. One for a car, the other for a house. That one. Up to the door, select a key, try it in the lock. No good. Next one. Nope. Third time lucky. It opened with a clunk. I froze, gun ready. Nothing happened. I eased the door open and stepped into the dimly lit hall. No one appeared. Whoever was here was down in the 'playroom'.

I crossed over past the living room as quietly as I could.

Marijke had indicated the door, and as I grasped the handle I hoped it wouldn't creak. I turned it a little at a time, and when the catch had released I eased it open gradually. Again nothing happened, and I started down. As in many large, older houses, the cellar was very deep and the flight of stairs long.

I had no idea how many were down here, or whether they were all in the same room. I knew there was a room for the voyeurs, probably with one-way glass, and there was a control room on the upper floor. Was there another control room down here? I didn't know how many were in the 'playroom' or the viewing room, and I didn't know if they were armed, though it was a safe bet. I was just another fool rushing in, and there certainly weren't any angels treading here.

I was down. One door straight ahead had no light escaping, while the other, on my right, showed light inside. It seemed to be the far larger room
– I guessed the 'playroom'. Voices tended to confirm it. I took a chance on the viewing room. Opening the door carefully, I peered inside, ready to shoot if I were challenged. No one. I crept in.

Instead of one large glass there were three small ones, each separated by a cubicle. Privacy for the viewers while they got their jollies watching. I checked each cubicle
– empty. Speakers carried the sound into the viewing room, but they were turned off. I couldn't hear, but now I could see inside.

Kate was stretched on a table of sorts. I guessed it was a rack because of the apparatus at the ends. She was naked. Her arms were held over her head in leather restraints. Her feet were fastened, too, but the table was hinged and her legs were spread apart and bent down, leaving her exposed.

The classic beginning – humiliation.

One man stood beside her, naked. His penis was lying on her right breast. He was semi-erect. As I watched he began to rub his penis on her nipple while the other hand squeezed and prodded her left breast. Another man, clothed, appeared in my view. He stood between Kate's knees and began to massage her genitals. The first man began to rub his penis on Kate's face, trying to reach her mouth. She turned her head away, but the second man, prompted by the first, came to her head, unzipped himself, and, continuing to stroke between her legs with his left hand, assaulted her face with his penis. She had no way to escape, and though she held her eyes and mouth tightly closed they were able to touch her face however they wished with their erections.

Step two – degradation.

I gritted my teeth, trembling from frustration and rage. I could crash in, but would Kate be killed in the process? What was waiting for me? How many were in the room? I found a knob on the wall, turned it slightly, and heard Nalishkin's voice, though he was out of my field of vision.

“...and you have the opportunity of ending this unpleasantness any time you wish, Miss Fletcher. All you must do is give me the list your father left. Tell me where it is, and we will release you.”

Kate spoke, but her words were slightly slurred. They must have drugged her.

“No list… I don't know about it… please let me go… don't let them do this… I don't have the list… please don't hurt me.”

“
Hurt you, Miss Fletcher? Not yet. No, no, no. Not for a while, at least. You see, these gentlemen here are first to receive their little perquisites. Eventually they will torture you and then you will not be a pretty sight. But before this happens, and while your body is still lovely and intact, they will do whatever they wish with you. A pleasant little reward for their expertise. In a few minutes you will be fully awake, and they will begin. I assure you it will not be pleasant.”

Step three
– the fear of sexual assault.

“
Have you ever had anal intercourse, Miss Fletcher? I think you'll find it most painful, for they are not gentle. When they are done there will not be one opening which hasn't received their attention, and undoubtedly both at once. Do you wish this to proceed, Miss Fletcher, or shall we end here?”

The two men stepped back, allowing Kate to speak. She was more in control. She was also terrified.

“Please, whoever you are, I don't have my father's list! We've tried to find it but it hasn't turned up! Please, please, let me go! Don't do this to me! I beg you!”

Nalishkin's voice droned on as though he hadn't heard her.

“And then the real pain will begin, Miss Fletcher. Your fingers will be bent back until they crack, one by one. Your toes will be crushed, and then digital amputations will begin. Should you lose consciousness we will revive you with drugs. And then we will get serious, Miss Fletcher. That lovely face of yours will be branded with white-hot irons, and those pretty nipples will be burned off with sulfuric acid.

“
Mlodzic here has a real treat for you – a little specialty which he learned in the middle east. He will pop out one of your eyes – just one, mind you, so you will still be able to watch the entertainment with the other.

“
And then it gets unpleasant and messy. You will be cut with knives and razors – a little at first, then deeper and deeper, until, finally, those meathooks over your head will be skewered through what is left of your breasts and you will be hung up and butchered, a little at a time. You will see your own entrails drawn out of your gut and sliced like sausage, and you will pray for death, Miss Fletcher. I can promise you that, yes indeed.”

Step four
– the fear of mutilation and excruciating pain.

The naked ape smiled toward the corner. He said nothing, but I guessed he was looking at Nalishkin. Who else? Were there only three of them? What do I do? If they were serious about this, they had to prove they weren't bluffing. Or were they? Was it all just to scare her? Kate had said nothing. She wasn't crying or whimpering despite the terror she must have felt. The drug must still be working. But I knew what they were capable of if Kate did not. I'd seen a sample in Paris. I couldn't allow this to begin. It would be better if she died quickly. I steeled myself. If I went in I had two choices and a split-second to decide. Neutralize them, or kill Kate. In which case I would die, too. It depended on what happened in the next few moments.

“It's decision time, Miss Fletcher. I think a little demonstration is in order to prove what we say is true. This is all very real, as you are about to learn.”

The one with clothes on reached up above him and brought two coiled wires down from an assortment of apparati above the table. There were strong metal clamps on each wire. He looked to the corner, then proceeded to place the clamps on the aureolae of Kate's breasts. She cried out from the pain.

“When the current is turned on this will hurt you terribly, Miss Fletcher. We are not bluffing. Do you have anything to tell me? This is your last chance.”

“
Please, please, believe me! I'm not a fool! I want this to stop! If I had that list I'd give it to you! Why can't you believe me? Why do you want to do this?”

“Why, my dear?” said Nalishkin softly. “Because I enjoy it.”

One of the thugs must have received the go-ahead. He reached up to a switch as I steadied the gun on the back of his head. Before he could flip it I squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened! The gun jammed! There was an arcing sound from the other room and Kate screamed, her body jumping from the table. Frantically I worked the clip out and replaced the round.

“That was nothing at all, Miss Fletcher. Very low voltage. You'll get a real lift from the next one.”

The other bastard was readjusting one clamp which had come loose, while his crony was turning up a dial. As he reached for the switch I fired two shots through the glass. then slammed open the connecting door and rolled in on the floor. I came up to face the corner with the gun aimed at Kate. I nearly shot her. Just in time I realized that Nalishkin was the only other one in the room. He was stunned.

The ape with clothes had a hole through his head back to front. Mlodzic was on his knees, holding his gut. I stood, slowly, and shot him in the head. He fell back and lay still. I held the gun on Nalishkin. Kate had lost consciousness. Nalishkin quickly regained his composure.

“
Well, well, my good friend David Baird – singer, test-pilot, now marksman. And I should say 'pathfinder' as well – for here you are in the one place I thought was inviolable. What do we do now, my friend? Are you about to rescue the fair damsel, is that it? It will be temporary, my friend, for I will get her again – you can't stop me. You can't protect her every minute of every day.”

“
I can stop it, Volodya. Right now, and I probably will. I can kill you, and I should.”

I was trembling. I hoped he couldn't see it.

“No, no, my friend. You won't kill me. Scum like these creatures on the floor, yes, but you are too sophisticated to kill a cultured man in cold blood. It is against everything you believe in. I am unarmed. I offer no resistance. Go ahead, free her. Leave. You win this round, my friend, that is all. But I am puzzled. How do you know of this place?”

I thought quickly. I reached a decision.

“Marijke told me, Volodya. In fact, she brought me here. She told me many things about you, your operation, your sex-traps. In fact, her father and grandfather both work against your communist regime. In time they'll change it – they and others like them.”

“
Ah… I've wondered, many, many times, but no proof.”

“
You still can't prove it.”

“
But I will move to stop them now.”

“
Perhaps I tell you a lie, Volodya. Maybe I want you to believe this so I can have my revenge on Marijke.”