Operation Snake

Chapter II

I don't think I ever felt quite so small and alone and overpowered as I made my way through the winding, ice-slick paths of the Himalayan range. I'd quickly lost sight of the village and as I trudged on, the wind tore and whipped at me like some avenging, wrathful spirit bent on destroying the stranger in its land. Behind me, I could make out the towering peak of Everest, tallest of them all, with Lhotse close beside it. To the right of them, across a terrifying series of jagged peaks, stood Makelu and to the left the heaven-scraping Cho Oyu. As I descended deeper into the range, I was surrounded by sheets of ice and vast regions of snow. Gaping crevasses, large enough to lose an army in, loomed up on all sides, and glacial slopes cut through the precariously marked path I followed. The sharp sounds of shifting ice, cracking glaciers and the rumble of snowslides, gave me a feeling of helplessness in the face of nature's awesome strength. I paused to tighten a bootstrap. My fingers stiffened in the time it took me to tighten the laces. I felt the skin of my face grow hard as the wind and the cold combined to give a mask-like texture to my features. And I was descending into the Tesi Pass. I shuddered to think what it was like climbing up toward the tops of those frightening peaks.

I paused at a cluster of ice-free rocks to take out the map and check my position. According to the simplified route traced out, I was in position. A sudden noise startled me and I swung the Marlin from my shoulder to see three tahrs, the Himalayan goats, bounding across the rocky terrain, their reddish, thick coats reflecting the rays of the setting afternoon sun. I watched them move effortlessly up the crags and started to hike on, envying them. The afternoon sun was now gone, hidden behind the towering peaks, and it would be dark very quickly. I hurried my pace and reached the mouth of the route known as Tesi Pass. It wound its way between the great mountains, a narrow ribbon amid the uncharted vastness of glacial ice, rock and snowdrifts. My instructions were to make camp anywhere within the pass and the guide, spotting my campfire, would find me. I picked a spot sheltered from the swirling wind and spent the remaining daylight hours gathering firewood. Amid the towering sentinels of unyielding rock, crowned by eternal snows, twisted, gnarled and mossy rhododendron trees somehow grew in defiance of all natural logic. As I gathered enough small twigs to start the fire and enough larger wood to keep it going, I saw musk deer and pheasant filtering through the trees. As I had enough dried meat in my pack I needed nothing further, and I lugged the wood back to the spot I'd chosen.

It was getting dark and I was starting to light the fire, using my lighter, when I was suddenly aware that I was not alone. I dropped the Marlin into my hands and whirled to face the figure standing quietly some fifty yards away. The man began to advance slowly, raising one arm in greeting, and I lowered the gun. His face, all but hidden beneath the low, furred hood of his parka, revealed weathered skin, small eyes and the flat, wide cheekbones of the Nepalese people. His legs were encased in yards of cloth, and goatskin boots covered his feet. The man walked up to me and spoke in halting English.

"You wait for guide," he said. My eyebrows went up.

"You aren't due for hours," I said.

"Me early," he answered. "You go to Leeunghi family?"

I nodded, and he motioned with a wave of his arm to follow.

"Long trip," he said. "Me come early. Make much time by night this way."

I shrugged. It had been my understanding that night travel through the pass was especially dangerous, but I wasn't equipped to argue the point. Besides, I hadn't relished the idea of spending most of the night alone by the fire in the vast emptiness of the pass with only the howling wind to keep me company. That is, if I were lucky. There were no doubt wolves in this area. And, I smiled to myself, there was always the yeti, the abominable snowman. I cast a backward glance at my unlighted pyramid of wood and followed after my guide. He moved with the surefootedness of the tahrs and I found myself scrambling and slipping to stay a reasonable distance behind him. He set a path that took us out of the pass at the first cut and climbed upwards, scrambling over slippery ice-covered cliffsides and along narrow ledges. Night fell, and we continued upwards in the darkness and then, with a special magic of its own, the moon came up and reflected an ice-blue brilliance from the snow and glacial formations. The blackness of the rocks was a startling contrast to the snow, and as I looked out over the wildness it had the angularity and sharp, etched pattern of a Duchamps or a Mondrian canvas. I could see my guide clearly now, just ahead of me, and we had come to a fairly broad ledge of rock.

"We rest here," he grunted, leaning back against the ice-covered wall of rock rising up from the one side of the ledge. I knelt, set down my pack, and gazed in awe at the magnificence of the sight stretching before my eyes, an awesome beauty that not even the bitter cold could dispel.

Hawk was fond of saying that a top agent in this grim, nasty business had to have the experience of an octagenarian, the reflexes of a cat, the nerves of a trapeze artist and the psychic ability of a clairvoyant. If he wanted to stay alive, that is. The psychic part I'd always found especially true, and suddenly it came true again. The hair on the back of my neck was not too frozen to stand suddenly, and I felt it rise as I sat on my haunches looking out at the awesome panorama. I whirled just as he came at me, both arms outstretched to push me headlong over the edge. I had only one chance and I took it, diving to the ground and grabbing his leg. He toppled, falling over me, and we both narrowly missed rolling over the edge. I got one leg up enough to push myself forward and I slid out from under him. But he was, as I'd already seen, part mountain goat, and he was on his feet and atop me, driving me back with the force of his attack. I felt my footing go out from under me on a stretch of ice and I went down. His hands were reaching for my throat, strong hands with powerful arms. I got a heel into a crack in the rock and pushed. He rolled to one side as I threw him off. I crossed a right and felt it bounce harmlessly off the heavy fur edge of his hood.

I scrambled to my feet as he regained his, and now I saw him move warily toward me. The first surprise attack had sent the rifle skittering off along the ledge and Wilhelmina was buried under my parka and sweater. The tight wristlets of the parka kept me from dropping Hugo into my palm. His small eyes were but glittering pinpoints in the moonlight, and his arms held half outstretched gave no sign of what his next move would be. I shifted my glance to his feet, saw him shift his weight to his right foot, move forward and try a grab for me. I ducked to the left and swung. This time I connected and he went backwards and down, sliding hard into the stone back of the ledge. I went after him and my foot flew out from under me on a piece of ice-coated rock. I fell, grabbed at the edge and pushed myself back from it. He was on his feet again and aiming a kick at my head. I managed to avoid it, grabbed his foot and yanked, and he came down hard beside me. We grappled, and I pushed him back away from the edge, but he was wiry and fought with a deadly desperation. I tried a karate chop along the side of his neck but the thickness of his parka deadened the effect. He tore himself from my grip, whirled away and when he turned, I saw the glint of the moon on the long, curved knife blade. He came in fast and slashed down with the curved blade. It tore a gaping hole in the front of my parka that ran the entire length of the garment. I fell back as he slashed again with the blade, wickedly bringing it down in a hook, and once again I felt it slash into the bulky parka. He had ruined the parka but he'd also opened a convenient hole in it I reached through, yanked Wilhelmina out and fired. He was coming at me again when the big 9mm slugs hit him, and he stiffened, staggered backwards and collapsed. He was dead before I walked over to him.

I searched him but found nothing. His parka was too small to fit me but it would do to stuff into the gaping holes he'd slashed in mine. I stripped it from his lifeless form and stuffed it into the front of my own where the bitter wind had already found its way through.

I had little choice but to try and make my way back to where I'd started to build a fire in the pass. To go on would mean becoming hopelessly lost and risking certain death. As I began to pick my way back carefully, trying to remember the way we'd come, I wondered whether the real guide who was to meet me would eventually show up. They had gotten their assassin to reach me early, but maybe they'd also slain the real guide. I could do nothing but wait and see. I retrieved the rifle from where it had skittered away and proceeded downward once again, retracing our route with only a few minor mistakes. My little pyramid of wood was still there, undisturbed, and I managed to get the fire going quickly, reveling in its warmth. I huddled by the fire while the wind mounted in intensity as the night deepened, and I dozed off a few times. I was wakened once by the howl of a snow leopard prowling the blackness of the night.

It was past midnight when I heard the faint sound of footsteps on the snow, a soft, crunching sound. I slithered back out of the circle of light made by the fire and brought the big Marlin around, my finger on the trigger. Peering into the moonlit pass I saw the figure approaching slowly. I waited until the figure, also bundled up in furred hat and thick parka, neared the fire, and then I moved forward, rifle aimed at it.

"Stay right there," I commanded. The figure halted and I walked up to it. As I approached I saw that the newcomer was small, not much higher than my shoulder.

"What do you do here?" I asked. "Are you passing through?"

"I come to take you to my father," the answer came in a soft, liquid voice. I lowered the rifle.

"A girl?" I exclaimed in astonishment. She moved forward and I saw a small, smooth young face peering out from beneath the big, furry hat and the upturned collar of the parka. I could make out a small, pert nose and soft brown almond eyes. She sank down beside the fire wearily.

"Do not be surprised," she commented in perfect English, just the trace of a British accent in her tone. "The Sherpa women can outclimb and outwalk any of the men. I am not one of the Sherpa, but I have grown up in these mountains."

"Surprises seem to be a part of your country," I said, sinking down beside her. "I've already had one tonight." I quickly told her of the other guide who had come for me and I heard her draw her breath in sharply.

"A thousand apologies to you," she said. "My father will be heartsick to hear of this. We were afraid something like it might happen but we were helpless to prevent it. Only three days ago we found out that one of our servants who had relayed messages between my father and Mr. Angsley belonged to Ghotak's Snake Society. That is why he sent me off to meet you at once. He knew he could have trust in me."

She was warming her hands before the fire, and I put on some more wood. Even bundled up in the shapeless layers of clothing there was something petite about her, and her movements as she stretched before the flames were fluid and graceful.

"I am Khaleen," she announced simply. "Only daughter of the House of Leeunghi and, since the death of my mother, woman of my father's home."

"And I'm Nick, Nick Carter, Khaleen," I replied. "You speak perfect English. Where did you learn?"

"I studied in England as a young girl," she said. "I returned at the death of my mother. We await your coming with great hopes born of desperation. Ghotak is close to victory."

I smiled grimly. "I'll give it everything I can," I answered. "I've already got one personal score to settle with this Ghotak cat. Hired assassins sent to kill me make me more than a little annoyed."

Khaleen smiled, her teeth beautifully even and white. She was studying me with a wisdom in her eyes that was born not of experience but of heritage.

"I think that if there is still time, you will find a way to help us, Mr. Carter," she said slowly.

"Nick," I corrected her. She smiled again and moved closer to me. I wished I could see more of her than the tiny piece of her face showing through the layers of clothing.

"We will rest a few hours by the fire before starting the trip back," she said. "We will lie close together for added warmth." She lay down in front of the fire and gently pulled me down beside her. Turning on her side so that we lay back to back, she immediately fell into a sound sleep. As I lay awake a while longer I realized the truth of her actions. Even through the heavy clothing, I could feel the warmth of her body against mine. I fell asleep shortly after, the rifle cradled in my arms.

It was still dark when I felt her stir and I awoke.

"We will start back now," she said. "It is a long and hard trip." We threw some snow on the fire and I found myself following her at an amazing pace. Her small form moved gracefully and easily through the pass, down steep ridges and along rocky ledges so narrow we had to progress inch by inch, each step an invitation to sudden death. When night came again, we were lower down in the mountains, and I saw greenery. The temperature had abated somewhat. The fire was still welcome, however, and we ate the dried meat in my pack. We had spoken very little during the trip, conserving our breath and our energies. When we finally encamped, we were both too exhausted to do anything but sleep, and in the morning we were off to an early start again. Khaleen had timed things so that we slipped into Katmandu by night, and she skirted around quiet, dark streets to bring me finally to the door of a big wooden house with the traditional pagoda-like roof supported by strong timbers. She opened the door and beckoned for me to follow. Inside, she called out in her native tongue. I heard sounds from an adjoining room, and through the doorless archway I saw the man whose picture I'd seen on the film. He walked in with brisk steps and bowed briefly. I did the best I could in my bulky outfit.

He helped me off with my things while Khaleen spoke quickly to him, and when she'd finished he looked up at me with deep, round eyes. "I apologize that your introduction to our land was one of death," he said. His eyes roved up and down my frame, towering and appearing even bigger in the low-roofed room.

"You are an impressive man, Mr. Carter," he said. "It is good. The people are easily led, easily impressed. Come, let us go in and sit down. We have much to discuss."

I noticed that Khaleen had disappeared as I followed the patriarch into a warm room with dark wood paneling and a stone stove set in one wall, a blazing fireplace in the other. Gleaming copper and brass urns, trays and pots were set into wooden niches, and a thick rug lay casually across the floor. We sat on low, blanket-covered stools and benches and the patriarch poured tea into pewter mugs.

"Tomorrow night there is to be a Spirit Meeting to Karkotek at Ghotak's temple hall," the old man said. "I fear it will be more than your eyes have witnessed, young man."

"These eyes have witnessed a helluva lot," I commented.

"During such a meeting, Ghotak inflames the people to mass eroticism," Leeunghi went on. "When they are in the throes of their erotic sensations he will encourage more and more of this mass psychological phenomenon until the people are spent and exhausted. Then his Snake Society men will pass the petition to the king among them to sign and of course they will do so."

"You have a plan to prevent this, I take it?"

"The only possible one at the moment," the old man said. "I will introduce you as an old friend when the gathering assembles, one who comes from a far-away land with news of Karkotek. The Spirit of Karkotek roams across the face of the earth, according to legend."

"And I'll tell the people that Karkotek has given no sign that he favors Ghotak's position," I chimed in.

"Precisely," Leeunghi agreed. "Ghotak will argue and threaten. I do not know exactly what he will come up with but he will fight hard, you may be sure. The important thing is that we maneuver him into a position where he cannot get his petition signed at the end of the ritual."

"I've got it," I said. "Hell hold the ritual in any case, right?"

"That is correct," the patriarch said. "He cannot deny the people the ritual. But we must deny him his objective, whatever the price."

"Do you think they will really pay any attention to me?" I asked. "After all, I'm a total stranger to them."

"They will listen to you because first, you come as my friend and I am respected here," he answered. "And then, because you, having heard of Ghotak's claim, have come all this distance to speak out against it."

I smiled. I was beginning to see the intricate, wily twists and turns of the old man's mind, plainly learned and wise in the ways of his people. He stood up abruptly.

"Your room is upstairs and a bath is waiting for you there," he smiled. "The Western-style bathtub is a convenience I became used to during my days in the British army. I think my home is perhaps one of the very few in all this region with such conveniences, outside of the Royal Palace."

"Speaking of Royal Palaces," I said, "where does the King fit into this?"

"He prays for our success, but he must remain in the background," Leeunghi said. "If we fail to stop Ghotak, he will be forced to accede to his demands."

The old man and I exchanged bows and I went into my room which was small but comfortable, with a wide bed covered by a thick blanket of goat's fur. The bath was in a tiny cubicle adjoining the room, really only large enough to hold the bathtub itself and a towel rack. The water was already in the tub and I let the warmth relax my aching muscles. I'd just dried myself off and was stretched out under the goat's fur blanket when there was a knock at my door and Khaleen entered. I sat up in surprise. She wore a light blue robe of filmy material and her hair hung loose in black cascades down to her shoulders. Her face, freed of the parka, was ivory smooth with high, wide cheekbones set off by the delicately shaped almonds of her eyes. Her lips, wet and moist now, glistened in loveliness. Though small, her breasts thrust out sharply through the robe and she stood before me, a jewel-like, shimmering delicacy radiating from her. She sat down beside me on the wide bed and I could see she wore nothing beneath the robe. The tips of her breasts were pinpoints of provocativeness though she was seemingly unaware of this.

She placed her hands on my shoulders and pushed me back onto the bed. "Please turn over," she said. I did so and she began to massage my back and neck and shoulders with a touch that combined delicacy and strength.

"Is this a custom?" I asked in curiosity.

"To those guests who have journeyed far and long to visit us," she remarked. I lay quietly, relaxing and enjoying the sensuous touch of her hands as she massaged my body. I'd been massaged before but Khaleen's hands caressed as well as massaged, and I wondered if she knew it. I turned my head to watch her and she smiled at me as she kept on with her task. She drew the fur blanket down and her hands smoothed the skin at the base of my spine, pressing soothingly down on the nerve endings clustered there. Then, gently, she turned me over and rubbed my chest while I watched the dancing light from the flickering oil lamp play on her intent face. Finally, finished, she drew the blanket up over my chest. I caught her wrist and she sat quietly, making no movement to pull away.

"You're a very beautiful creature, Khaleen," I said. "Do you know that?" She smiled, a wise, Asiatic smile, and I had my answer. Like all women everywhere, she knew her charms all too well. She drew both hands softly across the top of my chest, up to my neck and then down again.

"You have a beautiful body," she said softly. She got up, smiled, blew a kiss at me and was gone on soft, soundless steps. I fell asleep instantly and slept like a baby.

When morning came I was surprised at how warm the day was in the valley. I needed only a shirt and a light windbreaker as I went for a walk through the streets. The old man had breakfasted with me, and I'd caught glimpses of Khaleen flitting silently through the house. After breakfast I went out to get some local color. I'd walked only a few blocks when I came to the imposing temple and the long, low assembly hall behind it. Ghotak, looking as he had on the films I saw in Hawk's office, came down the steps accompanied by three fairly tall, bare-armed men in royal blue balloon-sleeved shirts, open down to the waist. I had the impression he'd been waiting inside the door for me to come along. His timing was too good. He came directly at me and his imperious face was cold and set. He nodded, disdaining the usual bow.

"The friend of the Leeunghi House has come," he said, a sneer on his lips. "We were expecting you."

"Really?" I said. "Somehow, I got the idea you weren't."

His eyes moved slightly but his face remained impassive.

"You would be well advised not to interfere with affairs that are not your concern," he said. He, too, had obviously learned his English in the British schools that once dotted the land. Peering into his cold, deep eyes, I saw at once that there was no chance of this man being anything but an enemy, so I decided to play it straight.

"You're telling me to mind my own business," I said.

He shrugged. "Put it more crudely, if you wish," he said. "You of the Western world seem obsessed with crudity."

"And you of the Eastern world seem obsessed with power," I replied. "Thanks for the advice. I'll remember to forget it."

He couldn't keep the flash of anger from flaring in his eyes as he turned and walked back into the temple. He spoke to his three aides and they turned to me.

"You will come with us," the tallest one said, his voice low and tense. "If you do not come quietly we will let it be known that you have insulted the lama. In minutes, a crowd will gather to tear you limb from limb."

I weighed the threat and decided there was probably something to it. But I was more interested in finding out what they had in mind. I fell in beside them. One led the way while the other two flanked me. I was led alongside the low meeting house, around the back of it and into a small, tree-shrouded clearing.

"Ghotak has decided that you have come to make trouble," the tallest one said, facing me. "It becomes necessary to make you realize how wrong you will be to do this. Ghotak is sorry he must teach you so severe a lesson."

I smiled inwardly. It was a different approach but I knew the tactics would be the same. They intended to give me a good going-over. Almost as one, they reached inside their loose shirts and each one drew out a narrow length of cured bamboo, about the thickness of a riding quirt. The leader of the trio raised his hand and came down with it. I heard it whistle as it went through the air, turned away and raised my arm in defense. I felt the painful slash as it struck and felt the immediate trickle of blood on my arm. I moved back and smiled. Silent but nasty little weapons, I saw. The tallest one moved in again and now the other two were about to start slashing with their rods.

"Wait a minute " I said. They stopped dutifully. Maybe Ghotak thought his assassin had missed connections with me, but he was about to learn differently. Maybe these three were bully-boys in Nepal but compared to the kind I was used to handling, they were strictly bush-league. I had to smile as I saw them standing there, waiting for what I was going to say.

I sighed and then, with the speed of a cat, I whirled and hit the one on the right with a tremendous solar-plexus blow. I saw his eyes bulge as he grabbed at his stomach and doubled over. Without stopping my motion I whirled, dived and caught the leader of the trio around the knees. I yanked hard and he went over backwards. The third one had recovered enough to slash at me with his bamboo wand. I took the slash on my shoulder, grabbed his arm and twisted. He yelped and half turned around as I applied pressure. I let go long enough to chop him alongside the neck and he collapsed. The tallest one had regained his feet now, minus his little weapon. He came at me and twisted to kick high and out. The blow caught me on the hip as I turned my body. When he got his leg down on the ground he was off balance. I connected with a roundhouse right and felt his jaw crack. He sailed backwards into a tree and shuddered his way to the ground against the trunk. The one I'd gotten in the solar plexus was on his knees, just starting to regain some breath. I grabbed him, yanked him to his feet and gave him a punch that split his cheek open. The blood spurted from the wound as he hit the ground. I dragged the third one over to where the first two lay almost side by side. The tallest one was dazed but conscious. I yanked his head up by the hair.

"Be sure and tell your boss that I'm sorry I had to educate you this way," I said. "He'll understand, I'm sure."

I walked off and returned to the main street, pleased with the way things had gone. Ghotak was no fool. His kind of man understood power and ruthlessness. Though I doubted it, the display of those qualities might just slow him down.

I continued sauntering through the streets, observing the people, pausing at street vendors, and eventually found myself at the edge of the village. I was just about to turn back for the Leeunghi house when, looking toward the mountains towering just beyond the village, I saw three figures coming out of the mountains. The first two were Sherpa guides, I recognized from their dress. The third one wore a bright green nylon ski jacket.

"I don't believe it," I said aloud to myself. I waited, unwilling to believe what I was seeing but knowing damned well what I saw. The three figures strung out single-file grew larger, until they were upon me. The two Sherpa guides trudged by. The third figure halted and glanced at me with an expression of relief and disdain.

"It looks as though I guessed right," she said in clipped tones. "I'm going to give you another chance to cooperate with me," she added brightly.

"I'm touched," I growled.

"I knew you'd be," she said and went off after her guides. I watched her go with a mixture of anger, surprise and grudging admiration. Any girl with that much determination couldn't be all bad, I decided. She could also be a pain in the ass. But maybe she'd learned her lesson, I told myself, remembering the fright in her eyes during our last session. If not, I'd give her another one and fast. As I walked back through the village toward the Leeunghi house, I smiled as I passed Ghotak's temple and saw the three figures helping each other up the steps.