Istanbul Read Online Free

hundred yards and stopped to tread water. The
Bannockburn
kept steadily on her slow course for the Galata Bridge. Her stern lights faded into the mist. Now and then he held the pen flash over his head and flashed —
AXE!
    Five minutes passed before he heard the sound of oars to his left. He flashed the signal again. A reply blinked back at him. A moment later a voice, made eerie by mist and water, floated to him. "N3?"
    The man in the water recognized the voice. Charles "Mousy" Morgan. It was okay. He answered softly. "N3 here. Get me out of this soup. It's colder than a brass monkey!"
    A pale face, made owl-like by horn rimmed glasses, peered down at him. "Welcome to our harbor, N3. Refer all complaints to Ankara, please. This is a hell of a time to go swimming anyway, if you ask me!"
    Nick grabbed the gunwale and swung himself into the little boat. Mousy Morgan said, "Easy, pal! This ain't much of a boat, but it's all we got." He looked at Nick's suitcase dripping in the bottom of the boat. "Dunking isn't going to do
that
much good!"
    Nick was squeezing water out of his pants. "Won't hurt it," he said. "Specially waterproofed for this job. Wish I was!" Nick leaned close to Mousy and nodded toward the big man who was rowing. "Who's our pal?" Nick was not especially pleased to find that Mousy had company. He had expected the little agent to be alone.
    The bulky man wearing a raincoat and a snapbrim hat, and handling the oars, answered for himself: "Jim Todhunter, sir. Narcotics."
    Nick gave the man a curt nod.
    Mousy Morgan said, "It's okay, N3. I couldn't handle this damned tub myself. Anyway he's doing all the work." Mousy chuckled and added, "And he stole the boat!"
    Nick sniffed. "Not much doubt where he stole it, either."
    Mousy chuckled again. "Yeah. I know. Horn fishermen don't worry much about cleaning their boats."
    "All right," Nick commanded. "Let's get the hell out of here before we have harbor patrol trouble. It'll be light soon.
    Todhunter put his broad back into the rowing. Nick sat in the stern sheets the Gladstone bag at his feet, and regarded Mousy sitting on the thwart facing him. This little character hasn't changed much, Nick thought with a touch of affection. Brash and big-mouthed as always. Compensation for lack of size. Mousy came by his nickname legitimately. Mousy was superbly unnoticeable. Nondescript. And an extremely valuable agent! No one ever really
saw
Mousy — until it was too late. Mousy could never have made it through PURG, the section of Hell that AXE used for training and conditioning its agents, but special dispensation was made in his case. Mousy wasn't meant for the rough jobs. His speciality was creeping in and out of tiny holes where no one else could go!
    Mousy leaned toward Nick and whispered so the man rowing could not hear. "I'm glad they sent you, Nick. I guess they really mean business this time. About time, too! But we're okay now — if anybody can put those bastards behind bars you can!"
    For years now Mousy Morgan had had a galloping case of hero worship for Nick Carter. Nick tolerated it because he knew the little man was sincere.
    Nick was feeling a little better about Jim Todhunter's presence. Todhunter would know him only as N3. And to all of them — the AXE men, the Narcotics people, the Turkish cops, he would appear to be on a routine mission. Object to apprehend the ring-leaders of the Syndicate.
    It might be different, of course, when the corpses start-
    ed turning up! He would worry about that when the time came. Meantime only Hawk and the man in the bedroom knew his real mission. Even Mousy Morgan did not know that Nick held the rank of KILLMASTER, with a license to kill at discretion!
    So Nick whispered back to Mousy, "What's the setup now? You people making any progress?"
    Mousy leaned closer. "I think we've finally gotten a break! We found a girl — or rather the Turkish cops found her and turned her over to us. She's a cured addict! Her name is Mija