heard Ostrov's voice, and then radio contact was temporarily broken off. When it came back, the Soviet intelligence commandant was giving me instructions which had been quickly cleared and agreed upon by himself, Hawk, Chung Li and Colonel Nutashi. We were going to be picked up by a big Soviet plane and flown to one of the United States carriers off Japan. Meanwhile, I was to prepare a full report to be given via the powerful carrier transmitter, Ostrov's rough, growling delivery was more pronounced than usual, and his final parting message sent my own hackles up.
"I'd expected something better, Carter. You had the man in your hands."
"Want to change places?" I asked, and he clicked off. I turned from the transmitter and went over to where Rita sat, clothed in a loose gray seaman's shirt and dungarees. Her hands found mine as I sat down beside her, close in the cramped quarters inside the patrol cruiser.
"I'll never be able to thank you," she said quietly.
"Ill let you try," I said. "In fact, you can start now. Think hard. Try to remember
anything
you may have heard your uncle or that large Japanese buddy of his say about where they were going. They left by chopper, which means that wherever it was, it wasn't too far away."
I watched a small furrow cut into her smooth forehead as she thought. "Uncle's visit to the temple was just to bring me there," she said. "The virus strain was never there. He said that if anything got out of hand, the temple would be the safest place to be, isolated by water and with a controlled population."
"So they stashed the strain somewhere else," I said. "Think hard — give me anything you can remember."
"Mostly they talked so low I couldn't hear them as we flew to the Kuriles," Rita answered. "But I heard enough to gather that the final phase of the plan would include a jet pilot who was to meet them, a man whose wife had been killed by a radioactive explosion."
I turned her words over in my mind. I knew they'd mean a helluva lot more if we could only fit them in with the missing parts. A jet pilot could mean they needed the use of a high-speed plane with a long range. And that even narrowed things down a little. A jet pilot with a wife killed in a radioactive explosion. I was starting to itch for that flying boat to get here. I had to get on that radio with Hawk. Rita's words brought me back.
"And there was something else," she said. "I heard Kiyishi use the phrase 'the tip of the three. He said the pilot knew to meet them at the tip of the three."
Rita sat back and moved her hands helplessly. "That's all I can remember, Nick. There was nothing else."
The tip of the three.
I let the phrase roll around in my mind but it didn't trigger a damn thing, and then I heard the sound of the heavy engines of the flying boat approaching.
"Let's get topside," I said. "Every second counts." A week, Hawk had said. Now only a few days remained. I watched the big airplane taxi to a halt, and the patrol boat came up alongside the opened doorway. We transferred to the giant plane and within a few hours we were aboard the United States carrier in the misty coastal waters off northern Japan. The ship's nurses took Rita in hand and she was assigned one of the staterooms kept aside for visiting dignitaries. I got on the radio with Hawk and as always, he listened first. He didn't say anything till I'd completed a full report and then, his voice weary, he cut in.
"It's ironic, Carlsbad, calling us puppets. He isn't even master of his own plan. Maybe we're all mad, Nick, every last one of us."
He'd taken down the few things Rita had reported to me. I heard him put some crispness into his voice but it took effort. "Ill get everyone on this at once. You'll have to just stand by. It may take time, hours, if we come up with anything at all. Where's the girl now?"
"Resting in a stateroom," I answered.
"Get someone to stay with her constantly," he said. "Maybe she talks in her sleep. Maybe she's got something in
"I'd expected something better, Carter. You had the man in your hands."
"Want to change places?" I asked, and he clicked off. I turned from the transmitter and went over to where Rita sat, clothed in a loose gray seaman's shirt and dungarees. Her hands found mine as I sat down beside her, close in the cramped quarters inside the patrol cruiser.
"I'll never be able to thank you," she said quietly.
"Ill let you try," I said. "In fact, you can start now. Think hard. Try to remember
anything
you may have heard your uncle or that large Japanese buddy of his say about where they were going. They left by chopper, which means that wherever it was, it wasn't too far away."
I watched a small furrow cut into her smooth forehead as she thought. "Uncle's visit to the temple was just to bring me there," she said. "The virus strain was never there. He said that if anything got out of hand, the temple would be the safest place to be, isolated by water and with a controlled population."
"So they stashed the strain somewhere else," I said. "Think hard — give me anything you can remember."
"Mostly they talked so low I couldn't hear them as we flew to the Kuriles," Rita answered. "But I heard enough to gather that the final phase of the plan would include a jet pilot who was to meet them, a man whose wife had been killed by a radioactive explosion."
I turned her words over in my mind. I knew they'd mean a helluva lot more if we could only fit them in with the missing parts. A jet pilot could mean they needed the use of a high-speed plane with a long range. And that even narrowed things down a little. A jet pilot with a wife killed in a radioactive explosion. I was starting to itch for that flying boat to get here. I had to get on that radio with Hawk. Rita's words brought me back.
"And there was something else," she said. "I heard Kiyishi use the phrase 'the tip of the three. He said the pilot knew to meet them at the tip of the three."
Rita sat back and moved her hands helplessly. "That's all I can remember, Nick. There was nothing else."
The tip of the three.
I let the phrase roll around in my mind but it didn't trigger a damn thing, and then I heard the sound of the heavy engines of the flying boat approaching.
"Let's get topside," I said. "Every second counts." A week, Hawk had said. Now only a few days remained. I watched the big airplane taxi to a halt, and the patrol boat came up alongside the opened doorway. We transferred to the giant plane and within a few hours we were aboard the United States carrier in the misty coastal waters off northern Japan. The ship's nurses took Rita in hand and she was assigned one of the staterooms kept aside for visiting dignitaries. I got on the radio with Hawk and as always, he listened first. He didn't say anything till I'd completed a full report and then, his voice weary, he cut in.
"It's ironic, Carlsbad, calling us puppets. He isn't even master of his own plan. Maybe we're all mad, Nick, every last one of us."
He'd taken down the few things Rita had reported to me. I heard him put some crispness into his voice but it took effort. "Ill get everyone on this at once. You'll have to just stand by. It may take time, hours, if we come up with anything at all. Where's the girl now?"
"Resting in a stateroom," I answered.
"Get someone to stay with her constantly," he said. "Maybe she talks in her sleep. Maybe she's got something in
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