Dr. Death by Nick Carter - [Killmaster 100]
Authors: Nick Carter - [Killmaster 100]
Tags: det_espionage
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impossible."
We faced each other across his desk in silence for a few moments, each uncomfortably aware of exactly what that threat could mean, if it was real. It would be bad enough if the oil drilling rigs were destroyed; that would cut off a substantial amount of oil right there. But the destruction of the refineries, which processed oil not only from the western hemisphere, but from the Arab countries as well, might cut down the supply of oil in the U.S. by as much as eighty percent.
Oil for essential industries, for gasoline, for heating, for transformation into other forms of energy, such as electricity.
The United States, as we knew it, would grind to a halt. Our country would be virtually paralyzed.
"Could it be a bluff?" I asked. "Do they offer any proof they can pull it off?"
Hawk nodded slowly.
"They claim that they will offer proof in five days. Proof that not only can they do it, but that even with advance warning, we can't stop them."
"And the proof?"
"In five days, the OAS will blow up and totally destroy the Shell Oil refinery off the coast of Curaçao. Unless, of course, we can stop them. And put them out of business."
"And if we don't? What's their price for not blowing up all the others?"
Hawk slowly drew another cigar from the breast pocket of his rumpled brown suit.
"They haven't informed us of that. Yet. They state there will be further communication after they've proved what they can do."
He didn't have to go further. If the OAS did prove they could make good on their threat, the demands they could make on the U.S. would be staggering financially, politically, and in every other way.
It was blackmail — extortion, if you please — on an undreamed-of scale.
Hawk and I looked at each other across his desk. I spoke first. One word.
"Duroche," I said.
Hawk nodded.
"The connections are too strong for coincidence. The OAS have Duroche. Duroche is a specialist — a genius — in underwater propulsion devices, the computerization of those devices, and their use with nuclear warheads. The OAS claim the ability to destroy every off-shore oil rig and refinery in this Hemisphere. Therefore…"
"Therefore, Duroche gave them this ability," T finished for him.
Hawk rammed his cigar between his teeth and lit it in short fierce puffs before speaking again.
"Correct," he said. "And therefore…"
"Therefore, I have five days to get Duroche away from the OAS," I finished again.
"You have five days to get Duroche away from the OAS
and
destroy whatever devices he's developed for them.
And
the blueprints for them."
There it was. Five days.
"And Carter," Hawk's voice was still dry and cold, "this is a solo. The OAS have warned that if we enlist the cooperation of any foreign police or officials at all, they will immediately destroy every off-shore oil rig and refinery from Caracas to Miami."
I nodded. That figured.
"You'll have to take the girl with you," he went on, puffing mechanically at the cigar. "She can give you positive identification of her father. We can't have you bringing out the wrong man. I don't like to involve her, but…"
"What if Duroche won't come willingly?"
Hawk's eyes narrowed. T knew the answer already.
"Bring Duroche out!" he snapped. "Willingly or unwillingly. And if you can't bring him out…"
He didn't have to finish. I knew that if I couldn't bring Duroche out, for whatever reason, I would have to kill him.
I hoped Michelle didn't realize that.
I stood up, then remembered something.
"The Chinese girl," I said. "Did the computer turn up anything on her?"
Hawk's eyebrows went up.
"Interesting," he said. "That is, interesting because there's nothing particularly interesting on her. No Interpol record. No reported involvement in any form of espionage. Her name's Li Chin. Twenty-two years old. Graduated very young from Vassar, top of her class. Graduate work at M.I.T. Then she went out to Hong Kong and spent a year there working in the family Import-Export business.
We faced each other across his desk in silence for a few moments, each uncomfortably aware of exactly what that threat could mean, if it was real. It would be bad enough if the oil drilling rigs were destroyed; that would cut off a substantial amount of oil right there. But the destruction of the refineries, which processed oil not only from the western hemisphere, but from the Arab countries as well, might cut down the supply of oil in the U.S. by as much as eighty percent.
Oil for essential industries, for gasoline, for heating, for transformation into other forms of energy, such as electricity.
The United States, as we knew it, would grind to a halt. Our country would be virtually paralyzed.
"Could it be a bluff?" I asked. "Do they offer any proof they can pull it off?"
Hawk nodded slowly.
"They claim that they will offer proof in five days. Proof that not only can they do it, but that even with advance warning, we can't stop them."
"And the proof?"
"In five days, the OAS will blow up and totally destroy the Shell Oil refinery off the coast of Curaçao. Unless, of course, we can stop them. And put them out of business."
"And if we don't? What's their price for not blowing up all the others?"
Hawk slowly drew another cigar from the breast pocket of his rumpled brown suit.
"They haven't informed us of that. Yet. They state there will be further communication after they've proved what they can do."
He didn't have to go further. If the OAS did prove they could make good on their threat, the demands they could make on the U.S. would be staggering financially, politically, and in every other way.
It was blackmail — extortion, if you please — on an undreamed-of scale.
Hawk and I looked at each other across his desk. I spoke first. One word.
"Duroche," I said.
Hawk nodded.
"The connections are too strong for coincidence. The OAS have Duroche. Duroche is a specialist — a genius — in underwater propulsion devices, the computerization of those devices, and their use with nuclear warheads. The OAS claim the ability to destroy every off-shore oil rig and refinery in this Hemisphere. Therefore…"
"Therefore, Duroche gave them this ability," T finished for him.
Hawk rammed his cigar between his teeth and lit it in short fierce puffs before speaking again.
"Correct," he said. "And therefore…"
"Therefore, I have five days to get Duroche away from the OAS," I finished again.
"You have five days to get Duroche away from the OAS
and
destroy whatever devices he's developed for them.
And
the blueprints for them."
There it was. Five days.
"And Carter," Hawk's voice was still dry and cold, "this is a solo. The OAS have warned that if we enlist the cooperation of any foreign police or officials at all, they will immediately destroy every off-shore oil rig and refinery from Caracas to Miami."
I nodded. That figured.
"You'll have to take the girl with you," he went on, puffing mechanically at the cigar. "She can give you positive identification of her father. We can't have you bringing out the wrong man. I don't like to involve her, but…"
"What if Duroche won't come willingly?"
Hawk's eyes narrowed. T knew the answer already.
"Bring Duroche out!" he snapped. "Willingly or unwillingly. And if you can't bring him out…"
He didn't have to finish. I knew that if I couldn't bring Duroche out, for whatever reason, I would have to kill him.
I hoped Michelle didn't realize that.
I stood up, then remembered something.
"The Chinese girl," I said. "Did the computer turn up anything on her?"
Hawk's eyebrows went up.
"Interesting," he said. "That is, interesting because there's nothing particularly interesting on her. No Interpol record. No reported involvement in any form of espionage. Her name's Li Chin. Twenty-two years old. Graduated very young from Vassar, top of her class. Graduate work at M.I.T. Then she went out to Hong Kong and spent a year there working in the family Import-Export business.
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