"Very well," I said.
"Now, Rafael Chávez, you will come out of hypnosis when I have counted down from five to one. You will speak fluent English, and that is the language you will use until you have accomplished your mission. You will be eager and ready to complete the mission, and you will follow all of my instructions to the letter.
"I will begin the count now. Five. You are Rafael Chávez, and you will change the course of modern Venezuelan history. Four. Your President and the Vice-President of the United States are your deadly enemies. Three. You have no thought, no purpose, but to kill these two men in the manner we have planned. Two. When you awake, you will not know you have been under hypnosis. You will not recall the names of those here with you, but you will know we are friends of the revolution who have prepared you for your mission."
When she reached number one, the threesome before me seemed to blur for a minute and then come back into focus. I looked from one face to the other.
"Do you feel all right, Rafael?" the lovely young woman asked.
"I feel fine," I answered her in English. Surprisingly, I spoke it with no difficulty.
"Who will you be for the next two days?"
"Nick Carter, the American spy."
"What will you do after you leave here?"
"Report to a man called David Hawk. I will tell him I was with you — with Ilse Hoffmann — during Carter's absence."
"Good. Go look at yourself."
I went over to a mirror. When I saw my face, it looked different. They had altered my appearance, so that I looked exactly like Nick Carter. I reached into my jacket and pulled out the Luger. The name Wilhelmina flashed across the back of my mind. I had no idea why. It didn't seem important, anyway. I pulled the ejector back and slid a cartridge into the chamber of the gun. 1 was surprised at my facility with the weapon.
I turned back to the three of them. "I don't know your names," I said.
The men were smiling with obvious satisfaction. It was the girl who spoke, though. "You know we are your friends. And friends of the revolution."
I hesitated. "Yes," I said. I aimed the gun at a light across the room and squinted along its barrel. It was a fine instrument. I slipped it back into its holster.
"You appear ready," the girl said.
I held her gaze for a moment. I knew there had been something between us, but couldn't remember her name. "Yes, I'm ready." I felt a sudden urge to get out of there, to get on with the most important thing in my life — the mission these people had prepared me for.
The man in the business suit spoke now. His voice seemed quite authoritarian. "Then go, Rafael. Go to the Caracas Conference and kill your enemies."
"Consider it done," I said.
Seven
"Where in the hell have you been?"
David Hawk was stomping around the hotel room in a black fury. His gray hair was rumpled, and there were deep lines around his cold blue eyes. I didn't know Americans were capable of such fits of rage.
"I was with the girl," I said.
"The girl! For two days? There have been important developments during your untimely vacation. It wouldn't have hurt if you'd been here for a briefing."
"She seemed too interested too quickly," I said. "I had to find out whether she was being used against us somehow. She asked me to a country villa for a couple of days, and I couldn't reach you before we left. After we got to the villa, I didn't have any way to contact you."
Hawk narrowed his steely eyes on me, and I was afraid he was seeing right through my disguise. I felt sure he knew I wasn't Nick Carter and he was just playing games with me.
"Is that the whole story?" he asked acidly.
He wasn't buying it. I had to improvise as I went along. "Well, if you must know, I got sick. At first I thought the girl had poisoned me, but it was just a bad case of the turista's disease. I wouldn't have been any good to you even if I had been able to make contact."
His eyes were glued to my face as I spoke. Finally they softened slightly. "Good Lord. We're on the brink of the climax of our biggest mission in years, and you decide to get sick. Well, maybe it's my fault. Maybe I've been pushing you too hard."
"I'm sorry, sir," I said. "But I did have to check the girl out. I'm convinced now that she's above suspicion."
"Well, I guess that's something, even if it is something negative."
"Maybe it was a wild goose chase," I said. "Anyway, I'm back on the job now. What are the new developments?"
Hawk pulled out a long Cuban cigar. He bit off the end and rolled it in his mouth but didn't light it. I had a strong sensation of déja vu — Hawk in another setting, doing the same thing. All the premonitions and flashes of impossible half-memories were making me nervous.
"The Vice-President has gone crazy on us. He says we're overdoing the security bit. He's pulled off some CIA men and sent the extra Secret Service boys home. Said it looked bad to the press to have an army of security people around, as if we don't trust the Venezuelan police."
"That's too bad," I said. Actually, it was fine. The fewer Americans around to put on my act for, the easier my job would be when I arrived at the conference.
"Well, there are still a lot of people at the palace with guns in their pockets. I brought N7 over myself when I thought you might be at the bottom of a six-foot hole somewhere."
For the first time, I realized that part of the reason Hawk had been so angry was that he'd been really worried about me. Or, rather, about Nick Carter. Somehow the realization moved me, and I found myself wondering just what fate Carter had met at the hands of the Vigilantes.
"N7-that's Clay Vincent?" I asked.
"Yes. He's put up in a third hotel, Las Américas. I've had him checking into your disappearance." he said sarcastically. "Now he can get onto more important matters. Tonight the Vice-President is attending an unscheduled party that's being given in the gardens of the American Embassy. The Venezuelan President will put in an appearance. Since the conference is tomorrow, I want to begin taking special precautions now, particularly regarding any events not on the original schedule." He chewed on the cigar.
The mention of those enemies of the people made me flare up inside. A hot wave of hatred took hold of me, and I had to struggle to hide it. One wrong move with Hawk could destroy the mission.
"All right, I'll be there," I said.
"Are you really all right now, Nick?" Hawk suddenly asked.
"Sure, why not?"
"I don't know. You just looked different there for a moment. Your face changed. Are you sure you re not still sick?"
I accepted the excuse quickly. "That could be," I said. "I'm not really myself today." I thought that any moment he would see through my disguise and I would have to kill him with the Luger in my pocket. I didn't want to kill him. He seemed like a good person, even if he was one of the enemy. But anybody who got in the way of my mission would have to be eliminated — there was no alternative.
"Well, you're really not yourself," Hawk said slowly. "I was going to send you over to the embassy to check on a couple of aides who will be at the palace tomorrow, but I don't think you're up to it. You'd better get some rest till this evening."
"That isn't necessary, sir," I said. "I'll be happy to go to the embassy and…"
"Damn it, N3! You know better than to argue with me. Just get back to your room and stay there till you're needed. I'll call you when it's time to go the embassy."
"Yes, sir," I said meekly, grateful for the opportunity to avoid any more contact with the Americans than was absolutely necessary.
"And don't contact that damned girl," Hawk shouted after me.