The Terrible Ones

In the Darkness Before Dawn

He held her while she sobbed silently against his chest, and he went on holding her when the sobbing had subsided. She clung to him as if she would drown without his strength to save her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she gasped. “It is most… unwomanly of me.”

“It is very womanly of you,” he said firmly, and softly stroked her hair. The firm breasts, surprisingly full and ripe beneath the coarse, loose shirt, pressed against his chest and her fingers squeezed into his back. His breathing accelerated suddenly in spite of all his years of Yoga training.

“Paula….” he whispered. He touched her lips again with his and let them linger longingly, and when she did not pull away he drew her even closer and kissed her with growing heat. Her mouth opened slightly and she responded with an urgency that sent his pulses racing. Her hands moved to the back of his neck and held it with a sort of desperation so that their mouths crushed together hotly and he could scarcely have turned his head even if he had wanted to. His hand slid down her side and down her thigh, and still she did not protest. The kiss burned even brighter.

At last she turned her head aside.

“You don’t have to do that,” she breathed. “I don’t want sympathy.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m not offering it to you. Is that what you think this is?”

He kissed her again, this time almost savagely, and cupped her breast in his hand. It swelled beneath the cloth and he caressed it while his tongue met hers. She kissed back hungrily and her tense body gradually relaxed. They were breathless when they drew apart.

When she spoke she sounded almost formal.

“I have not thought of love since Tonio died,” she said. “I have not wanted any man to touch me.” She began to unbutton her rough shirt. “Did you hear me? I said Move.”

“I heard you,” said Nick, and a little pulse beat in his temple. And not only in his temple. He touched the smooth skin beneath her breasts as her shirt slid off. She caught his hand and held it against her.

“I knew you thought me hard,” she whispered. “Do you still think so?”

“No,” he murmured, sliding his arms around her and unfastening a tiny catch. “Soft, beautifully soft. Are you like that all over?”

“Why should I tell you? Is it so difficult for you to find out?”

It was not so difficult. He found that out as he helped her finish her undressing, and as she helped him finish his. Her skin was petal-soft all over, and beneath it lay a splendid form that was taut where it should be taut and yielding where it should be yielding. Nick made a blanket of their clothes and together they lay upon it, touching each other eagerly as they lay down and drawing close even before their heads touched the skimpy pillow. Their mouths met again in a long explosive kiss and then they were exploring each other with their movements and their hands. Nick felt her thighs tremble beside him as he kissed her perfect nipples and made them rise into tiny peaks. He made his hands glide slowly over her body, although the passion was already so strong in him that he knew she must know it also. She touched him lightly where he ached the most, and he sighed with pleasure. He caressed her marvelous flat belly, covering it with kisses, and moved down. Her legs parted a little as he felt her warmth and softness, felt her eagerness. His probe was gentle, loving, though his kisses were becoming bites of urgency.

“Oh, my darling!” she gasped suddenly. “Not too soon, not too soon! Hold me for a little while.”

He stopped instantly and held her so close that she was almost part of him. Soon she would be part of him, but not until she wanted it. She moved her thighs slowly against his and kissed him with such gentle longing that his desire for her became something more than lust for a lithe body. It had been a little more than that ever since he’d caught the faint breath of her perfume and felt the softness of her lips back there in the cave, but now it was growing into something that he seldom permitted himself to feel. Nick Carter, Killmaster for AXE, was close to something like real love.

Nick caressed her very gently, Paula relaxed like a cat, but like a cat she was ready to respond to every touch, and like a cat she nibbled at the one caressing her. Her hips were undulating slightly, stimulating him, and her fingers clutched at him with all their supple strength. She was no Oriental houri, no pseudo-sophisticated college girl, no succubus to drain the life from him and leave him empty and unsatisfied. She was hungry for love, and so was he, and they matched each other as though they had been born to come together. Nick measured her against him as they lay together and found nothing wanting. For the first time he could fully appreciate the splendors that had been concealed by her workmanlike clothes. His body and his hands discovered what his eyes had never seen — a shape that was perfection, a feminine body at its magnificent best, a streamlined lovely thing that was vibrant with energy and yet wonderfully controlled. And there was a strength about her that excited him enormously, a pliant sort of strength that challenged and yet begged to be subdued.

The boat rocked gently as they rolled together in their mounting need. Nick slid her under him and sank lightly down upon her, into her, and then the little boat rocked in a rhythm that had nothing to do with wind or sea.

“I’ve needed you,” Paula whispered. “Needed you so much. Oh, love me… love me.”

“I’ve wanted you,” he murmured, tasting the sweetness of her breasts and feeling her vibrate beneath him. “Wondered if you’d ever want me, too. Wanted you in the cave, in the bushes, in the dungeon, everywhere. Wanted you in the hay, to roll with you, like this.” He demonstrated, and she moaned with pleasure at the grinding motion. “Want you now… more than ever.”

Their mouths melted together as their bodies flexed and arched in the exquisite acrobatics of love. She gave him back everything he gave, teasing his body and tempting it, swiveling slowly and provocatively as though relaxed beyond the need to stir him further, and then pulsating suddenly with galvanic movements that made Nick catch his breath and groan with ecstasy. Each moment seemed as though it must surely be the last, yet each moment led to another even more impassioned. Every movement of hers was a charge of electricity that sapped and strengthened him at once, forcing him to fight for control and yet give her even more of himself. Sensations crowded one on top of each other in a sort of symphony of sensuality. Two magnificent bodies clashed and parted, clashed again and entwined about the other. She was passionate and urgent, but she knew the subtleties and nuances and she was savoring every one of them. Nick plunged deep into the wonders of her, lost in the painful pleasure of prolonging each play of his body so that both of them could enjoy it to the full. But a storm of passion was building inside him and he arched to let it burst.

His tongue probed deep between her parted lips and his body writhed with desperate need.

He groaned suddenly and heard her moan with him. Her legs caught at his and held them close and her hips arched to trap his body with hers. Muscles tightened and played against each other until the friction burst into a liquid flame. Thighs trembled violently and then convulsed as the storm within Nick broke and became part of her. The boat rocked violently and a tongue of spray splashed into the shelter, but the fire did not go out. It blazed for long, incredible moments of complete ecstasy as the man and woman sighed together and lay there, rocking, like a single being. Blinding exhilaration held them together in a thick mist that blotted out everything but their mutual sensation. Slowly, very slowly, it began to clear.

Nick lay back and held her lightly in his arms. Her heart was still beating like a triphammer, and so was his, and her giving had been complete. But there was nothing flaccid about her relaxed body. Nick kissed her tenderly and raised her head so that a stray beam of light from the inboard lamp played across her face. Paula’s eyes were bright but calm and there was a smile upon her lips. There was a new beauty about her and a look of fulfilment that had nothing to do with satiation.

“You’re beautiful, Paula,” Nick said softly. “Very, very beautiful… in every way.” He pushed a lock of honey-colored hair back from her forehead and brushed his lips against her eyes. And then her cheeks. And then her mouth. And then again her breasts, now soft and round. He felt invigorated and refreshed.

“You lied to me,” she murmured.

“I did what?” Nick looked up, startled.

“You lied. No padded shoulders, no built-up shoes. It’s all you, all you. And all… all magnificent.” She smiled again and drew his mouth against hers.

It was a long, slow gentle kiss that only ended when they lay back upon the rumpled clothes and entwined themselves together. They rested in each others’ arms for a little while, and their next kiss was not gentle. It was passionate, explosive, demanding of more kisses and much more than kisses. Paula’s fingertips trailed over Nick’s body, lingering over the patches of plaster and making tender little stroking movements that were like soft words of compassion.

Soon the rhythmic clisthenics began again. The sorrow that had helped to begin it all was blotted out for long, delirious moments of love between two people who both knew how to satisfy and enjoy.

“Ah, it is even better now…” Paula murmured, and whispered things that stoked the hot coals of Nick’s desire. He kissed the secret places and marveled at the sweetness and resilience of her body. So cool, she had seemed, so detached in her feline composure. But beneath the coolness there was an astonishing animal vitality and zest that brought an answering exuberance from him. She made him feel expansive and robust — ten feet tall with a mighty strength to match. He wanted above all, to bring her to heights of explosive passion such as she had never known before, and he played upon her with all his considerable skill to give her the ultimate in physical sensation.

Her long legs encircled him and her breasts melted against his chest. Somehow she was different from all the many other women he had known, and he tried to pin the difference down as he pinned her down beneath him against the rough deck of the tossing boat. The sea smell and the damp mist enveloped them as they wrestled in the sensual holds of love, mingling with the warm, sweet scent of her fresh body.

She belonged to the outdoors; she was as natural and unaffected as the wind and sea around them. And she was a loner, like himself, used to making her own tough decisions and acting upon them. He, at least had AXE in the center of his world. She only had herself to call the shots of her own life. In a way she was made for it, with her feminine-tough body and her self-reliance, and yet no woman so lithe and lovely should have to live with loneliness. She was different from the others because she was so much like himself, and yet all woman underneath the mask.

But now the mask was stripped away and she was wild and free. Together they made rapturous, uninhibited love and whispered meaningless words that blurred into moans of exquisite pleasure. Under Nick’s touch her body bloomed and became a paradise for him, one into which he sank voluptuously through a velvet passage. Their bodies fused, blazed, shuddered violently, and consumed each other. Paula tilted her head back and closed her eyes. Her lips parted and a little moan escaped them. Even her sudden, galvanic lurch against him had a grace of movement that enhanced the moment of explosion. Nick’s mind swirled in a red haze as he gave himself up completely to their joint desire. She was on the peak now, high upon the peak of passion to which he had brought her with his thrusting body. Molten lava flowed between them. Suddenly they fell through space together, clutching each other and gasping with release.

This time, when it was over, they were limp and spent. Both sighed with contentment and lay back to rest. Side by side they lay, holding each other but not talking, and when at last they did talk it was of things that had nothing to do with why they were there. They were there, and for a while that was enough.

Salt spray licked at their bodies and reminded them that the night outside was cool. It also reminded Nick that there were other things to do beside make love.

“We’ve run out of time,” he said regretfully, and kissed her once more before he rose and began to pull his clothes on. Paula gave a startled exclamation.

“I had forgotten!” she said, full of self-reproach. “How could I forget?”

“Easily, I hope,” he murmured. “But don’t forget tonight.”

She flashed him a quick and radiant smile. “Never. Just one more…”

They kissed again, and then he helped her dress.

They pulled themselves together hastily and raised the sail. Even with the auxiliary motor it would be a race to join the fishing boats entering San Jorge with their night’s catch.

They came in last, laughing together over the few fish they had somehow managed to draw into the net. But their landing was accepted without question, and that was all that counted for the moment.

Paula led him to a battered jeep parked in a side street of the fishing town, and as the sun cast its long morning shadows over the hills-they started on the long drive to the city of Santo Domingo.

Nick drove at breakneck speed while Paula navigated. Again they shared a growing sense of urgency but now it was for something other than sexual satisfaction. The wait for dawn had given them each other, but it had also taken precious time.

“This girl Luz,” Nick said abruptly. “How much could she tell if she were questioned?”

Paula’s mouth set suddenly into its old hard line.

“She could say that there are a hundred women in the city who call themselves The Terrible Ones, that a hard core of nine — of whom she is one — have a hideout in the city. That we are looking for the Trujillo treasure, and that Evita was working on Padilla for a clue. That there are other men with similar clues. That the Americans were sending help.” She shot him a quick glance. “It seems that she had mentioned that already.”

“Under duress, do you think?” Nick said quietly.

Paula stared at him. “I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “She has always had a high opinion of Castro’s Cubans and a low one of Americans. I think she might easily have said something to Alonzo without being forced to. But only about your arrival, nothing more. Nothing about The Terrible Ones. And nothing at all to anyone else.”

“I would think that Alonzo’s comrades would be wondering where he is,” said Nick. “Do they know that he’d been seeing her?”

Paula sucked in her breath. “I have been thinking about that. But the Cubans are not enemies of ours!”

“Did they know?” Nick insisted.

“Yes. They knew.” Twin lines of worry pinched her brows together. “But they wouldn’t know where to find her. Unless— they would recognize her, of Course. And all of us are out most of the day, tracking down leads. She might have been seen.”

Nick let it go at that. There was no use belaboring what might have happened to Luz if she had been caught. He changed the subject.

“Do you have any idea what the Castle of the Blacks might be?”

She shook her head. “I, too, would have guessed La Citadelle. I cannot think of any place near Santo Domingo that would fit the name. But at least we do know that it is somewhere near the city.”

“That’s not all we know,” said Nick. “We have another clue. ‘La Trinitaria.’ Because I’m sure that was meant to be a clue.”

“It was a cheap Trujillo joke,” Paula said angrily. “Typical of him, to mock the freedom fighters. Of course it would have to be a joke to him, to steal all their possessions and know that dead men could never find them.”

“No, it must be more than that. A joke, maybe, but a joke with meaning. Padilla thought so, remember?”

She nodded expressionlessly. Nick knew that she was thinking of Evita and what had turned to be her deathbed scene.

“You must have known there would be risks involved when you undertook this hunt,” he said obliquely. “The best thing you could do would be to drop this whole thing and disband altogether.”

“I will not do any such thing until—” she began hotly, and Nick cut in swiftly.

“Until you’ve found it and shared the wealth,” he finished for her. “I know. I’d feel that way myself. But about ‘La Trinitaria.’ Was there any place that they met regularly, any place that had any particular significance for them that Trujillo might have found out about?”

“They might have had and he might have found out, but they did not tell their wives about it,” she said bitterly.

“But do you think they did have?” he persisted.

“I think they must have, but I have no idea where it might have been. I tell you, they didn’t tell us anything!”

“Very wise,” he commented, shooting past a heavy truck on the upgrade and swooping down the other side of the hill. “But kind of a nuisance for us. Still, it couldn’t have been far from Domingo, could it?”

She looked at him with a faint glint of hope. “No, it couldn’t.”

“Okay, whether they had such a place or not, we still have three things to go on: Castle of the Blacks, something to do with La Trinitaria that’s a little more than a joke, and a place not far from Santo Domingo. Things could be worse. On the other side of the coin, I think we can be pretty certain that the Cubans aren’t going to help us any more than the Chinese.” He concentrated on the road for a moment and eased the brake down smoothly. “There’s a crossroads coming up— where do I turn?”

She told him and they made a rocketing left along the coastal road to the capital.

They talked a little more and then fell into silence.

Nick looked at Paula suddenly and grinned. For the past few minutes he had been conscious of her appraising look.

“Looking under my beard to see if I have a chin?” he teased.

She reddened slightly. “No. I know already that you have. I was wondering if I had proved to you that I really am a woman.”

“You proved it,” he said fervently. “Oh, how you proved it, Paolo baby!”

The sun was casting late-afternoon shadows as they left the jeep and glided through the back streets of Santo Domingo. Broken windows and bullet pocks gave evidence of recent street fighting and troopers were on guard at various points, but Paula knew her way around them and picked out their route unerringly.

They walked for almost half an hour before she touched his arm and pointed across a deserted street. “There,” she said. “We have taken the roundabout route, but it is safer this way. That is the place — our headquarters.”

He looked, and saw nothing but ruins. The whole block seemed to be tumbledown and abandoned. What she had pointed at was a pair of apparently uninhabitable wrecks. One was a very old ruin overgrown with vines and foliage and the other, its immediate neighbor, was a big sagging house whose scars dated back perhaps to Trujillo times. Loose bricks lay in front of it on the broken sidewalk, its front steps were gone, its garden was a jungle. Doors and windows were boarded up and it exuded an air of utter desolation.

“Which one?” Nick asked, puzzled.

“Both. Come, follow me.”

She flashed a watchful look down the street and stepped quickly into the tangle of fallen masonry and vines. He followed her under an overhang of foliage and through a gap between two crumbling piles of timeworn stone. The gap became a passage with a wall on one side and a curtain of old brick and foliage on the other. A suggestion of a ravaged roof hung overhead. Paula stepped over a fallen column, apparently the remnant of a collapsed portico, and into an area that looked like some long-abandoned living room with a ceiling of leaves and sky. Then they were in another passage, this one short and dank and dark, still with its roof intact. At the end of it was a blank stone wall.

“This part of it is our own work,” Paula said softly. “The roof here, which we have concealed from the outside with vines, and the door. Do you see the door?”

“No, I don’t,” he admitted.

“Good. You will, when it opens.”

So far as he could see she had done nothing to open it, but as he watched a small panel slid back and a white blob of a face stared out at them.

“Automatic warning signal,” Paula said. “We stepped on it.”

All very ingenious, Nick told himself. Marvelous what automation could do. Among other things, it left plenty of room for human error. His hand clamped over Wilhelmina’s butt.

Paula was talking to the face behind the opening.

“Open,” she said. “All is well. He is a friend.”

“Enter, then. All here is well.”

The heavy stone door swung inward. Paula hurried in and drew Nick after her.

“Luz!” she said happily, as the small dark-haired girl in the foyer swung the great door shut behind them. “You are safe, then?”

“Of course.” The girl slid a vast bolt across the door and turned to face them. Nick thought she looked unhealthily pale, and there were beads of perspiration on her upper lip. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“We’ll talk about that a little later,” Paula said. She was looking rather oddly at the girl, Nick thought. “It is Alva’s turn for duty, is it not? Why are you at the door?”

“She was very late coming in,” said Luz, looking at the floor, “and very tired. So I said I would take her first two hours.”

“Oh.” Paula was still staring at her. “Are you sure that all is well?”

“Yes, yes!” Luz said.

But she was shaking her head from side to side and her eyes were wide with fear.