Nick stared. The words he had spoken to Hawk only yesterday came back and he repeated them. "You've got to be kidding!"
No smile on any of the pale lemon-brown faces. Dark slant eyes all attentive on him and his big body.
"No kidding, Mr. Carter. On the bed. At once!" The pistol moved in her small hand. Her trigger finger was white around the knuckle. Nick understood, for the first time during all these fun and games it really percolated down, that she would shoot him unless he did exactly as he was told. Exactly.
He dropped the robe. Kato hissed. Mato smiled darkly. Sato giggled. Tonaka gave them a nasty glance and they got back to business. But there was approval in her own dark eyes as they swept briefly up and down his trim two hundred pounds. She nodded. "A magnificent body, Mr. Carter. As my father said it would be. He remembers well how much he taught you and how he conditioned you. At another time, perhaps — but that is not important now. On the bed. Face up."
Nick Carter was embarrassed and self-conscious. He was not a liar, especially to himself, and he admitted it. There was something so unnatural, even a little obscene, in lying fully exposed to the probing eyes of four Girl Scouts. Four pairs of epicanthoid eyes that were not missing a thing.
One thing for which he was thankful — it was not a sexy situation, far from it, and he was in no danger of having a physical reaction. He shuddered inwardly. A slow rising to crest in front of all those eyes. It was unthinkable. Sato would have giggled.
Nick watched Tonaka steadily. She kept the pistol on his belly, so fully exposed now, and her mouth twitched in a beginning smile. She fought it back successfully.
"I only regret," said Nick Carter, "that I have but one virtue to give for my country."
Suppressed mirth from Kato. Tonaka glared at her. Silence. Tonaka glowered at Nick. "You, Mr. Carter, are a fool!"
"Sans doute."
Beneath his left buttock he could feel the hard metal of the zipper set into the mattress. Therein lay the Luger, that nasty hot rod of a gun, a stripped-down 9mm of murder. Also the stiletto. Thirsty Hugo. Death's needlepoint. Nick sighed and forgot it. He could probably get to them, so what? What then? Shoot down four little Girl Scouts from Japan? And why did he keep thinking of them as Girl Scouts? The uniforms were authentic but that was all. They were four female maniacs from some Tokyo yo-yo academy. And he was in the middle. Grin and suffer.
Tonaka was. snapping orders. "Kato — look in the kitchen. Sato, in the closets. Mato — ah, that is it. Those ties will be just the thing."
Mato had a handful of Nick's best and most expensive ties, among them the Sulka he had worn only once. He sat up in protest. "Hey! If you've got to use ties use old ones. I just…"
Tonaka rapped him smartly across the forehead with the pistol. She was fast. In and out before he could snatch at the gun.
"Lie down," she snapped. — "Quietly. No more talking. We must get on with our work. Already there has been too much foolishness — our plane leaves in an hour."
Nick lifted his head. "I agree about the foolishness. I…"
Another rap across the forehead. He lay sullen as they tied him to the bedposts. They were very good at knots. He could have broken the bonds at any time, but again to what purpose? That was part of this whole crazy deal — he found himself more and more not wanting to hurt them. And, since he was already so deep in Goofyville, he now had a genuine curiosity to find out just what they were up to.
It was a picture he would carry to the grave. Nick Carter tie.d with his own ties, spread-eagled on his bed, mother naked and exposed to the dark stares of four little maidens from the Orient. A snatch of a favorite old song drifted through his mind: they'll never believe me.
He could hardly believe what he saw next. Feathers. Four long red feathers produced from somewhere under the miniskirts.
Tonaka and Kato were on one side of the bed, Mato and Sato on the other. If they all get close enough, Nick thought, I can snap these ties and bash their stupid little heads together and…
Tonaka dropped her feather and stepped back, the Nambu back in position on his flat stomach. Professionalism had reasserted itself. She nodded curtly at Sato. "Gag him."
"Now look here," said Nick Carter. "I… guli… ummm… phummmp…" A clean handkerchief and another of his ties did the trick.
"Start," said Tonaka. "Kato, you take his feet. Mato, you work on his armpits. Sato — the genitals."
Tonaka stepped back another few paces and kept the gun steady on Nick. She permitted herself a smile. "I am rather sorry, Mr. Carter, that we must do it — this way. I know it is undignified and ridiculous."
Nick nodded vigorously. "Hummmmpffj— guuuu— noggle-uuppp…"
"Try to bear up, Mr. Carter. It should not take long. We are going to drug you. you see, and one of the propensities of this drug is that it maintains and extends the mood of the person to whom it is given, at the time it is given. We want you happy, Mr. Carter. We want you laughing all the way to Japan!"
He had known all along that there was method in this madness. The ultimate perception changed nothing. They would still kill him if he resisted. This Tonaka kid was just crazy enough to do it. And now it was getting past the point of resistance. Those feathers! It was an old Chinese torture and he had never realized how efficacious it was. It was the sweetest agony in all the world.
Sato was running the feather ever so gently around his privates. Nick convulsed. Mato worked industriously on his armpits. Ohhhhaaahaaaaa…
Kato was using a long expert stroke on the soles of his feet. Nick's toes began to curl and cramp. He couldn't, goddam it, stand much more of this. Anyway he had played along with this nutty quartet far enough. Any second now he was just going to have to — ahhhhooo— eeeeee— bust loose and let the stuff hit the fan and maybe hurt some of these cute little — ehhhyaaaaaaa— crazies and maybe get shot with that little Nambu and eeeyaahoooaaaaa…
Her timing was perfect. He had been distracted just long enough for her to get down to the real business. The needle. The long shining needle. Nick saw it, and then he didn't see it. Because it was buried in the relatively soft tissue of his right buttock.
The needle went deep. Deeper. Tonaka was staring down at him as she jammed the plunger home. She smiled. Nick arched and laughed and laughed and laughed.
The drug hit him hard, almost instantly. His bloodstream picked it up and raced it along to his brain and motor centers.
They had stopped tickling him now. Tonaka smiled down and patted his face with a soft hand. She put the little pistol away.
"There," she said. "How do you feel now? All happy?"
Nick Carter smiled. "Never better in my life." He laughed.. "You know something — I feel like having a drink. Like having a lot of drinks. What do you say, girls? Let's all go out and get blasted."
Tonaka clapped her hands. How demure and sweet she was, Nick thought. How nice. He wanted to make her happy. He would do anything she wanted to — anything.
"I think that will be splendid fun," said Tonaka. "Don't you, girls?"
Kato, Sato and Mato all thought it would be splendid. They clapped their little hands and giggled and they all, each one, insisted on kissing Nick. Then they stood back, giggling and smiling and talking. Tonaka did not kiss him.
"You had better get dressed, Nick. Quickly. You know we have to get to Japan."
Nick sat up as they untied him. He laughed. "Of course. I was forgetting. Japan. But are you sure you really want to go, Tonaka? We could have a lot of fun right here in Washington."