her was on my lips. She moved insistently against me as my hands and lips covered the swell of her breasts, caressing the erect nipples. Her hand was on me, and it was guiding me to her, and then there was a hot sweetness engulfing me. Her hips undulated against me, and her legs locked around my back. She made low, sensual noises in her throat as our passion mounted. Then she gave a harsh cry, and her soft flesh trembled violently as I exploded inside her.
A little while later, Ilse got up to get our cognacs. I lay relaxed and satiated on the couch, sprawled out full length. If this was what Ilse had to offer in return for my doubts, it seemed pointless to go on worrying about her.
Still, I watched her carefully and at the same time kept my eye on my weapons on the nearby table. I let Ilse take a drink of her cognac before I took one.
"Did you enjoy it?" she asked me after I had taken a sip.
"The drink or the entertainment?" I asked. Just then I began to feel a little dizzy.
"The entertainment," she smiled back.
"It was first class." As I sat up on the edge of the couch beside her, I felt my arms getting heavy.
"I enjoyed it, too."
I was really beginning to get tense. I was feeling dizzier and weaker, and there was no reason for it. Unless Ilse had drugged me.
"What the hell…" I said. The words just wouldn't come.
Ilse didn't say anything. She moved slightly away from me.
I looked over at her. I was suddenly very angry — with her and with myself. I had let my guard down, in spite of Hawk's warnings and my own doubts.
"You bitch!" I said loudly, the words echoing strangely in my ears. I slapped her hard across the face, and she fell back on the sofa with a muffled gasp.
I got up and reeled drunkenly. I grabbed my clothes and began pulling them on. "What's your real name?" I asked, trying to zip my pants.
She looked at my weapons but didn't have the courage to try for one of them. She wiped a trickle of blood from her mouth. "My real name is Tanya Savitch," she said.
I had my shoes on now. I took a step toward the table where the Luger and stiletto lay and almost fell on my face. I grabbed for the table, but I knocked it over and it crashed to the floor I steadied myself on the arm of the sofa, standing over the girl named Tanya Savitch.
"And you work for the KGB," I said.
"Yes. I am sincerely sorry, Mr. Carter," she said quietly. "I like you."
I glared at her and saw two Tanyas. "It was the cognac, wasn't it? But you drank it yourself. And I watched you when you went to get the glasses. What did you do, stuff yourself with an antidote earlier?"
"It was not the cognac," she said almost unhappily. "It was the lipstick. And I have a hypnotic immunity to its toxic effects."
"Hypnotic…?" I couldn't finish the question. I felt the swelling darkness overpower me, and then I hit the floor.
I didn't care about the weapons any more. I just wanted to fight the blackness and get out of the apartment. If I could even make it to the corridor, somebody might help me. I somehow found enough strength to get back on my feet and stumble toward the door.
Just as I reached it, it opened, and two men stood there. One a short, bald thug, had a stupid grin on his face. The other was the man I had seen at the cafe and the palace, probably the one who'd held the gun on me back at the training school in Washington. Their faces blurred as the drug really began working. The taller of the two, the one who had plagued me since Washington, stepped toward me.
"You appear to be a little under the weather, Mr. Carter."
I took a clumsy swing at him. He ducked away easily, and I fell against his stocky companion, who grabbed me and held me up for a moment, then hit me hard in the side of the head.
I went falling back into the apartment, landing on the floor again. As the short, stocky man stood over me, I grabbed at his legs and pulled them out from under him. He hit the floor beside me. I could just barely hear the Russian
A little while later, Ilse got up to get our cognacs. I lay relaxed and satiated on the couch, sprawled out full length. If this was what Ilse had to offer in return for my doubts, it seemed pointless to go on worrying about her.
Still, I watched her carefully and at the same time kept my eye on my weapons on the nearby table. I let Ilse take a drink of her cognac before I took one.
"Did you enjoy it?" she asked me after I had taken a sip.
"The drink or the entertainment?" I asked. Just then I began to feel a little dizzy.
"The entertainment," she smiled back.
"It was first class." As I sat up on the edge of the couch beside her, I felt my arms getting heavy.
"I enjoyed it, too."
I was really beginning to get tense. I was feeling dizzier and weaker, and there was no reason for it. Unless Ilse had drugged me.
"What the hell…" I said. The words just wouldn't come.
Ilse didn't say anything. She moved slightly away from me.
I looked over at her. I was suddenly very angry — with her and with myself. I had let my guard down, in spite of Hawk's warnings and my own doubts.
"You bitch!" I said loudly, the words echoing strangely in my ears. I slapped her hard across the face, and she fell back on the sofa with a muffled gasp.
I got up and reeled drunkenly. I grabbed my clothes and began pulling them on. "What's your real name?" I asked, trying to zip my pants.
She looked at my weapons but didn't have the courage to try for one of them. She wiped a trickle of blood from her mouth. "My real name is Tanya Savitch," she said.
I had my shoes on now. I took a step toward the table where the Luger and stiletto lay and almost fell on my face. I grabbed for the table, but I knocked it over and it crashed to the floor I steadied myself on the arm of the sofa, standing over the girl named Tanya Savitch.
"And you work for the KGB," I said.
"Yes. I am sincerely sorry, Mr. Carter," she said quietly. "I like you."
I glared at her and saw two Tanyas. "It was the cognac, wasn't it? But you drank it yourself. And I watched you when you went to get the glasses. What did you do, stuff yourself with an antidote earlier?"
"It was not the cognac," she said almost unhappily. "It was the lipstick. And I have a hypnotic immunity to its toxic effects."
"Hypnotic…?" I couldn't finish the question. I felt the swelling darkness overpower me, and then I hit the floor.
I didn't care about the weapons any more. I just wanted to fight the blackness and get out of the apartment. If I could even make it to the corridor, somebody might help me. I somehow found enough strength to get back on my feet and stumble toward the door.
Just as I reached it, it opened, and two men stood there. One a short, bald thug, had a stupid grin on his face. The other was the man I had seen at the cafe and the palace, probably the one who'd held the gun on me back at the training school in Washington. Their faces blurred as the drug really began working. The taller of the two, the one who had plagued me since Washington, stepped toward me.
"You appear to be a little under the weather, Mr. Carter."
I took a clumsy swing at him. He ducked away easily, and I fell against his stocky companion, who grabbed me and held me up for a moment, then hit me hard in the side of the head.
I went falling back into the apartment, landing on the floor again. As the short, stocky man stood over me, I grabbed at his legs and pulled them out from under him. He hit the floor beside me. I could just barely hear the Russian
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