Read Twelve Hours To Destiny for Free Online

rubbing himself dry with the large, rough towel, he felt a little better. Pain still suffused his body, but the sharp, blistering agony had now subsided to a dull ache and he was able to think more clearly. He recalled a little of the long walk from the quayside to Kellaway’s residence, remembering only that he had protested weakly that, once the enemy suspected that he might still be alive, this would be the first place they would think of looking for him. But the other had evidently overruled his objections and now as he slipped into pyjamas, feeling the soft, cool touch of silk against his skin, he was strangely glad that he had given in. He had needed that shower to shock some of the feeling back into him.
    “You ready?” Kellaway called.
    “Yes.” He came out of the shower. The other poured a stiff drink, handed it to him. “Better get this down you. You look as though you need it.”
    “Thanks.” Carradine tossed the raw whisky down in a single gulp, twisted his lips as the liquor started a fire on its way down into his stomach.
    “What now?” asked the other, lowering himself gingerly into a chair. “If the enemy do know you are here—and why, they won’t wait to have another try at you once they realise you’re still alive.”
    Carradine nodded. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow. If possible I’d like to take a look at Chao Lin’s office, just in case there is some clue that was missed. Then the sooner I get across to the mainland and over the frontier, the better. My guess is that the trail will stop dead this side of the Chinese border.”
    “The chances are a million-to-one against you picking it up on the other side.”
    “I know,” muttered Carradine morosely. “You don’t have to rub in how difficult it’s going to be… Now, first of all, I shall need papers. Some identity.”
    “I think I can get something for you. Anything else? Remember that once you’re inside China, you’ll be completely on your own. You can trust no one.”
    “You don’t have to tell me that,” muttered the other grimly. “I’ve been in one or two Communist countries in Eastern Europe, but that was child’s play compared with this. I’d sooner take my chances inside the Kremlin than in there.” That little affair on the road into Kowloon had told him just how high the dice were stacked against him. God, but the Chinese Intelligence must be far more efficient than they had ever realised back in London. If he did succeed in getting back, he should be able to put the Chief wise on a few points. Up until now, they had considered the Chinese Communists as a rather backward lot where military intelligence was concerned. At that very moment, he had a far different picture of how they operated.
    He refilled his glass, sipped his drink more slowly this time, savouring each mouthful. Gradually, the whisky made him feel sleepy, a deep lethargy seeping over him in waves so that he could scarcely keep his eyes open.
    “You must be all in,” said Kellaway apologetically. He rose to his feet. “Forgive me. I’m afraid I’m not being much of a host tonight. Too many things have been happening. I’ll show you to your room.”
    *
    The Headquarters of the Chinese Counter-Intelligence Organisation was housed in a large modern building on the outskirts of Canton, an ugly erection of six stories standing head and shoulders above all of the neighbouring buildings as though certain of its own importance. The two lower floors housed the typists and cypher clerks, the third floor contained the communication centre while on the fourth, behind locked rooms were the Records Section. At the far end of the Records Section, a narrow stairway led up to the floor above. Here, behind doors guarded by men armed with submachine-guns, were the conference rooms in which the devious operations were planned and set in motion. The top floor, reached by an express lift operating directly from the ground floor, housed the secret