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When I'd gotten to the palace and checked out the conference room I'd made a point of noticing the water carafe on the long mahogany table. It was identical to the one I'd be given later, at the noon recess. It had been sitting there on a tray, along with about a dozen sparkling crystal glasses. By noon, whatever water was left in the carafe would be stale, and it would be natural for the palace staff to bring in fresh water for the afternoon session.

The morning seemed a year long. I paced restlessly up and down the long corridor. The other security people looked at me. The halls were full of them. Two Venezuelan guards, one CIA man, and one Secret Service agent stood guard at the entrance of the conference room. Every one of them knew Nick Carter, and no one had given me a second glance when I'd inspected the room earlier.

At about eleven-thirty, half an hour before the recess, the corridor outside the conference room began to fill again. I was feeling the awful tightness in my chest, and my head was beginning to ache. But this time the pain was almost pleasurable. I knew it would disappear immediately after I'd carried out my mission.

Just before recess a CIA agent came up to me. He obviously knew me, and I was supposed to know him. I concentrated, and his face began to look familiar, though of course it wasn't. It was all conditioning, and I didn't have time to worry about how it worked. Still, these confrontations made me nervous. One slip could destroy the whole mission.

"Where have you been, Carter?" the man asked. "We haven't seen you around here for a couple of days."

"Oh. I've been checking out some leads," I said tightly, trying hard to sound natural.

"Leads?"

"I saw a suspicious-looking man at the reception the other night, but it turned out to be a dead end."

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that. I also heard you were shacking up with some German girl for a while. Any truth in that?" he sneered.

The grin suddenly reminded me of the one on the American Vice-President's face when he had introduced me to the President. "Why don't you get lost, you incompetent bastard!" I snarled.

Suddenly I noticed Hawk and Vincent standing just a few feet away, staring at me. I hadn't seen them walk up.

"You ought to keep this one on a leash," the CIA man said angrily as he walked quickly past Hawk and Vincent and moved on down the corridor.

Hawk stood there studying me for a minute. When he spoke, his voice was calm and quiet. "Come with us, Nick," he said.

"I'd like to be here when they come out," I said. "There could be trouble."

"Damn it, I said to come with us!"

I rubbed a hand across my mouth. I was in trouble, with just a little over an hour to go till I had to meet the man who'd give me the carafe. But there was no way I could get out of going with Hawk. He wasn't giving me any choice.

"All right," I said quietly.

Hawk led us to an empty private room near the security headquarters. When we were inside, Hawk closed and locked the door, then turned to me. Vincent stood off to one side, looking very embarrassed.

"Now," Hawk said in a hard, low voice. "What the devil is going on here? I've taken about as much as I can from you, Nick. You're acting like a maniac."

I gave Vincent an angry look. "You told him about the incident at the party."

"No, I didn't," Vincent said defensively. "But I should have."

"What incident?" Hawk asked.

"Just a little emotional flare-up," Vincent said.

I licked my dry lips. I was glad he hadn't mentioned my going for the Luger. Hawk was sharp. I was sure he already had doubts about my identity. Maybe he'd spotted some defect in my disguise. Maybe they'd left off some mole or scar or something else that had given me away. No, it had to be my fault. I just wasn't acting like Nick Carter.

"All right, what is it?" Hawk asked impatiently. "Why are you so damned jumpy all the time? You haven't been the same person since you came back from that villa."

The answer was easy. I was a different person. Rafael Chávez. But I couldn't tell him that. He was one of the enemy. Both these AXE men were my enemies.

"I just don't know, sir. Maybe it's because this whole thing is so damned frustrating, with the hordes of people milling around and the noise and confusion. And the worst part is knowing something could happen at any minute and we might not be able to do anything about it. This security work isn't my style."

Both men were silent for a minute. Hawk turned away and walked over to a window. "I'm afraid that's not good enough, Nick." He turned back to me. His lean frame seemed to have shrunk even further into his tweed jacket, and his cold eyes seemed to be looking right through me. "Just what happened during those two days you were gone?"

"Just what I told you," I said.

"I don't like to say it, Nick, but I think you're holding something back from me. That isn't like you, either. We've always been very frank with each other, haven't we?"

The pressure was rising in my head and chest. There was less than an hour to go before I had to be out there in that corridor. And David Hawk wanted to talk and talk.

"Yes, we've always been frank."

"Then let's be frank now," Hawk said. "I think something happened when you disappeared, and I don't understand why you're not telling me about it. I know you must have your reasons for holding back, but it would be a hell of lot better for both of us if you spit it out. Does it concern the Hoffmann girl?"

I shot a look at him. "No, it doesn't have anything to do with the girl. Why the hell should it? I told you she was clear. Do you really believe I'm lying to you? Is my loyalty suddenly in question?" I realized I was shouting, but it was too late.

"Take it easy, Nick," Vincent said quietly.

For a minute Hawk didn't say anything. He was staring at me again, piercing me with those hard, cold eyes. The pressure in my head and chest was rising dangerously, and I felt like a bomb getting ready to go off.

"Nick," Hawk said slowly, "I'm taking you off this case." His face suddenly looked old and tired.

A cold chill passed through me. I turned to meet his eyes. "You can't do that," I said hollowly. "You need me here."

"Please believe me when I say I don't want to. You're number one on my list, and you know it. Your record speaks for itself. But something is very wrong here. The feeling I had when I arrived in Caracas — the horrible feeling that something had gone haywire — is still with me. In fact, it's gotten a lot stronger in the past couple of days." He looked at Vincent. "You feel it too, don t you, Clay?"

"Yes, sir," Vincent said. "I do."

"You've always placed a lot of value on gut feelings, Nick. You've told me so yourself many times. Well, I do too. And right now I have a very strong feeling that you shouldn't be involved in this assignment any more. For your own good as well as for the good of the conference."

"Sir, if you'll just give me a chance to show you I'm all right," I said. "Just let me stay through the noon recess."

His brow furrowed, "Why the noon recess?"

I couldn't look him in the eye. "That just seems like a particularly dangerous time. Once they're safely back in the conference room, it's not likely that anything will go wrong. I'll leave then if you want me to."

"I want you to leave now," Hawk said coolly. "Vincent, go get one of the Venezuelan guards. I'm sending one back to the hotel with Nick, just to make sure he gets there all right."

"That isn't necessary!" I said angrily.

"Forgive me, Nick, but I think it is," Hawk said. His voice was as hard as his eyes.

Vincent had started for the door, and I suddenly panicked. I couldn't let these men stop me from carrying out my assignment. Something clicked inside, and my head cleared. I knew what I had to do. I had to kill them. A hard, cold determination came over me.