"Leave the girl alone," I said. "She knows nothing. Neither do I. I arrived at your damned window too late to hear anything."
Novosty eyed me narrowly, appraising what I had said. "That undoubtedly means you know everything or most of it. Now, save the girl further problems by telling me who you have passed this information on to. Have you managed to reach your headquarters?"
"We found out nothing," I said. "We have nothing to tell."
Novosty studied my bruised and bloody face and nodded to Koval. Marsh threw Heather bodily to the floor in front of me; he and Koval both watched my reaction. Koval held Heather's arms above her head.
"You want to see your girl friend raped?" he said. "How would you like that? She's a lovely thing, isn't she?"
Marsh grinned and licked his lips. Just looking at him made me sick. I didn't want to look at Heather.
I hesitated. Was it worth going on with this? How much, actually, did we have to gain by playing dumb? We were protecting little information. On the other hand, by admitting what we knew and bluffing a little to boot, we might at least find out if Novosty and his crew were an assassin team or if they were up to some other game altogether.
"Okay, I'll tell you what you want to know," I said. "Let the girl go."
"I hope you're not playing games again," Novosty said.
Marsh glared in frustration, but Koval gave him a look that said there would be plenty of time for such things later, before they killed Heather. Koval released her arms and she sat up, trying to cover her nakedness with her hands.
"Take the girl into the bedroom. Give her clothes," Novosty said. "You do it, Koval. Marsh, you stay here."
Heather looked at me questioningly as she moved past me to the bedroom, holding her clothes against her. Koval followed and closed the door. I remember Heather's purse then and wondered if she'd have a chance to get to it — and her little gun — before Koval saw it.
"Now, my friend," Novosty said. "We will talk business. First, what dealings did you have with Augie Fergus in Egypt?"
"He was going to sell me some information. But he was killed by his Arab friends before he could give it."
"And what was this information?"
"He didn't say," I lied. "But what was Fergus to you?"
"Nothing," Novosty sneered. "Just a man who did jobs for us now and then in the Mid-East. Our people there asked me to find out about your dealings with him. Now, about the comrades at Land's End. Are they dead?"
"They're dead," I said.
"And they told you nothing?"
"Nothing. I overheard you talking through the window, though, before your Russian friend spotted me. About the Defence Ministry."
Novosty's face went blank. "I see."
I was thinking as I talked. They had not removed my jacket and, when Koval frisked me, he had not found Hugo. But I couldn't use the stiletto as long as my hands were tied behind my back.
"I understand you plan to execute your mission as your man leaves the building." I watched Novosty's face; it remained expressionless.
"What exactly is our mission?"
I hesitated, watching him and Marsh; I wanted to see both their reactions to what I was about to say. "Why, to assassinate a third British government official," I said, "in accordance with your overall plan."
Novosty's eyes narrowed slightly, the only change of expression. But Marsh was a different story His eyebrows went up in surprise and he barked a laugh. Novosty gave him a hard look but Marsh's laugh had told me plenty. At least, he thought the mission he'd been recruited for was something quite different.
"We did not speak of assassination at Land's End," Novosty said. "Are you playing a last hand with me?"
"I didn't actually hear the word," I admitted "But we've known for some time now that this supposed attempt to blackmail the British government is actually a series of planned executions for Russia's benefit. It's a Soviet plot and you were sent here to see it through."
I watched Novosty's face and he watched mine. It was like playing draw poker, except that the stakes were our lives — mine and Heather's — and Britain's security.
"But you do not know who we plan to kill next," Novosty said thoughtfully.
"No, it can be one of several possible targets. We don't know the exact date either but that won't help you much. The game is up, and Russia will soon be exposed." I raised my voice, letting a little emotion slip in. Watching Novosty, I concluded that he believed me. But he wasn't about to deny the charge, not just yet.
"Take him to the bedroom," he told Marsh with no further comment on what I'd told him. "Tie the girl again and lock the shutters on the window. Then bring Koval back out with you."
Marsh took me into the bedroom where Koval was watching Heather. The Russian had found Heather's purse, I noticed, which was a disappointment. They locked the window and tied Heather's hands behind her. As Marsh left the room, he punched a big fist into my stomach. I grunted and doubled over, going to my knees. Marsh laughed and followed Koval out of the room. The door closed behind them.
I couldn't breath for a long, agonizing moment. Heather knelt awkwardly beside me. "Are you all right?" she asked anxiously.
I could talk now but my breath came hard "I'm going to get that bastard," I muttered.
"What did you say to Novosty?" Heather asked.
"I told him the truth."
"What happened? Is he the assassin?"
"Novosty told me nothing," I said. "He's a very good poker player But Marsh told me plenty — without saying a word."
Her lovely blue eyes searched my face.
"Either Novosty has nothing to do with the assassination plot," I said, "or Marsh thinks he doesn't, which is possible, of course. It wouldn't be the first time a hired agent was kept in the dark about the real nature of a mission»
"True." Heather nodded.
"But somehow I really don't think Novosty has anything to do with the assassination plot."
"Will he kill us now?" she asked quietly.
There was no point in lying to her.
"Well, even if we are on the wrong trail, it seems that he has to. We know that he's up to something and that it involves the Defence Ministry."
"I suppose that's what they're doing out there right now," Heather said, "plotting our unpleasant demise."
I moved my wrists against the ropes binding them. The knot was very tight, too tight to work loose. I looked at the shuttered window. "They'll probably wait until dark," I said.
"They wouldn't want to disturb the village," Heather agreed wryly.
I sat there, twisting the rope binding my wrists and wondering what the hell I could do. Besides Hugo the stiletto, I had Pierre, the cyanide bomb, attached to my thigh and my belt and buckle held plastic explosive and a miniature dart blowgun — all gifts from the imaginative men in Axe's Special Effects and Editing. But Hugo was the only weapon that could free our wrists.
I flexed my right forearm and the stiletto was released from its sheath. But it did not slip into my palm as usual; its route was obstructed by the rope around my wrists. I turned my back to Heather.
"Can you get your hands up to my wrists?" I asked.
She glanced at me and turned her back to mine. "I don't know. But even if I can, I won't be able to undo the ropes."
"I know. But look at my right inner wrist. You'll see the tip of a knife there."
Heather looked and saw. "Why, Nick, you have the nicest surprises!"
I grinned at her and turned further so she could reach the point of the stiletto. I could feel her working at it "Pull it in an even, slow movement," I said, "moving it outward and past the ropes."
She did and in another moment the stiletto slid past the ropes and clattered to the floor. We glanced anxiously toward the door, but the discussion in the next room continued without interruption.