A Korean Tiger by Nick Carter Page B

There was also a six-foot gap between buildings. Nick studied the dark pit below. He whistled softly. To him it was nothing. But for Bennett? For a woman? Then, somehow, with great clarity, he knew the truth. Bennett, the little traitor, might have been the problem — but not the woman! Whoever she was, and on whatever side, she would be in charge. She'd probably pushed Bennett!
    There was a certain studied carelessness in the movements of Killmaster now. Hawk would have been vastly puzzled at the sloppiness of his Number One Boy. Nick leaped to the roof below. He did it easily, but clumsily. He fell and rolled and allowed himself to curse aloud. He stood in silhouette and brushed himself off, muttering angrily, and made more noise than a bear in a thicket. There was a coldness along his spine that couldn't be helped. If they were around — the other losers, Russian or Chinese — he had to draw them. About the winners, Russian or Chinese, he didn't have to worry at the moment. They would be making time and tracks.
    He crossed the roof, shambling noisily, and climbed awkwardly over a parapet leading to the next roof. The buildings were on the same level to the end of the block. Then he would have to descend to the street.
    It was on the third building that he found the body of Avatar.
    It was lying in deep shadow near the base of a ventilator. Nick saw it in time, but
let
himself appear to stumble over it. He cursed. If he was being watched — he hoped he was — they must be hard put to contain their laughter, would think they had the world's prize jackass to deal with.
    He had never met the Berlin man in person, but he had been shown a picture in Washington. The man had been a top agent, yet without the rank of Killmaster. Only three other men held that rank in AXE, with Nick Carter the senior officer. Yet this had been a good man, a very good man, and now he was dead. Nick knelt beside the body, using his pen light, and made a rapid search of the pockets. There was no wallet, no credentials. They would have taken those for possible future use, for copying and forgery. Everything else was in order. Avatar had not been in disguise. He was wearing an American-made business suit of conservative cut, a white shirt and a dark blue tie. His felt hat had rolled a few feet away when the bullet had taken him between the eyes. Nick let the tiny beam rest for a moment on the black hole, the rictus of death, the staring eyes. He wondered if the guy had had a wife. A family? Few AXEmen did.
    With a thumb and forefinger he closed the eyes, patted the still warm cheek and got to his feet. Avatar must have checked at the hotel, found that Raymond Lee Bennett was still there, either seen or somehow heard of the woman and the others and had decided to move without waiting for Nick. Lacking Killmaster rank, still, on the mission, he would have been licensed to kill. Fate had given matters a reverse twist.
    Nick Carter went on his way over the roofs. He came to the last building, found a rusty fire escape leading down to a narrow street that ran off toward the dock area. What had been a hunch, a suspicion, became a near certainty. Bennett and the woman must be trying to get out of Cologne by an unusual route — the river. It would be slow — that would be the chief drawback — but there were also many advantages. Roads can be easily blocked; trains, planes, buses, private cars can be easily stopped and searched. It is hard to blockade a river as large and as busy as the Rhine.
    As he dropped from the last fire ladder to the narrow cobbled lane he told himself that it must be the Chinese — they had Bennett! Time would have been of the essence to the Russians; it would not matter so much to the Chinese. They were a patient people, and China was a hell of a long way off — they would try to find a safe hole and go to ground. Wait. The Rhine was cluttered with tugs, steamers, barges and sailing boats, cabin cruisers, whatever. It was at