Run, Spy, Run

Nick let his smile widen. "That little round ball. That interested you, didn't it? He saw a flash of something like comprehension in Judas' eyes. "I am about to tell you something, Judas. You have to make up your mind. Either I'm stalling or I really have got something up my sleeve. And you have to decide whether you want to take a chance on dying." He waited. Judas locked eyes with him. Julie straightened slightly.

"Continue, Mr. Cane."

"I will. But tell me first — just how thoroughly did you examine the ball, and the other items?"

"Why should I tell you that?"

"Because if you don't tell me, and if you don't untie my hands and bring those items to me immediately, the lady and I won't be needing L-pills. Neither will you and dear, lovable Braille. I must say you were very lucky when you stripped me, because things with timers sometimes go off unexpectedly, don't they, Mr. Judas? Especially if they're handled with insufficient care." His mind was racing. Pierre? Pierre was not the explosive that he needed, but a deadly gas that allowed a bare thirty seconds for escape.

Julie was staring at him. So was Judas.

"What things, Mr. Cane?"

"I think there's something that you overlooked."

"Pah! Overlooked, Cane? Once they were removed from you, how could they matter? I told you that the ball resisted us. Of course I didn't pick everything apart. I've had things blow up in my hand before."

Good. Perhaps he hadn't, then. "One of those little items is a bomb," Nick said, almost dreamily. "Operated on a combination that would take you months to discover. T set it every morning when I wake up, and then again in the early afternoon. But I have to disconnect it every eight hours. Now I've lost track of time, but if I don't reset the tiny mechanism…" Nick shrugged eloquently.

Mr. Judas gave a high-pitched bark of laughter.

"Tiny! It must be. Do you seriously expect me to believe this fiction?"

"I told you," Nick said blandly. "It's poker. What can you lose by checking? Five minutes?" He sneered.

"And you alone can work this item?" Judas faced him menacingly. "I think you'd better tell me what the combination is."

"You know I won't do that, Judas. And by the time you've tried to persuade me, it might just be too late."

The awful laugh rang out.

"Not bad poker. So. Our innocent Mr. Cane is no mere agent on a trifling mission. He is a walking arsenal of science-fiction apparatus. Really, Mr. Cane…"

"I've got all the time in the world," Nick said evenly.

Judas considered.

Among people who lead dangerous lives, the wildest bluff is worth cross-checking. But this was Judas, no fledgling in the high-stakes league of espionage. Nick's heart hammered furiously in spite of his iron control.

"Braille. Get Mr. Cane's possessions and bring them here."

The giant grunted and shuffled further into the darkness. Nick could hear movement in the background. In seconds Braille was back, carrying a tin box without a cover. He handed it directly to Judas, as though he could see him. Mr. Judas murmured in his throat and Braille shuffled quietly away.

Judas loomed before Nick, steel hand extended. The click sounded again.

The switch-blade forefinger traced a pattern down the coarse rope that bound Nick's arms. He felt the bonds fall away. Then he lifted his arms slowly from the crossbar and let them drop to his sides. The damned flow of his blood began to course slowly back into his body.

"You may stretch," said Judas. "That is all."

Nick drew his upper body away from the damp wooden beam.

"That's enough. One false move and I shall disembowel you. And then Braille and I, together, will take on the lady." He grinned diabolically. "Remember that, my dear, in case you feel like moving. Your lover is still waiting. So no heroics, please."

A whimpering sound came from Julia. She cringed against the supporting beam.

"We made a bargain, Judas," Nick said coldly. "One more threat and you can forget about what's in the box. Quick death for two, or all of us. That's all the choice you've got."

Judas looked thoughtfully into the box. Nick flexed his arms surreptitiously. Now if only his feet were free… He glanced at Julie. Something seemed to have died in her.

Judas' steel hand poked around in the tin box, lifted Wilhelmina by the trigger guard and dropped her on the floor. She clattered on the damp stones, out of Nick's reach. Next came Hugo, dismissed as a trifle. Judas clucked and took both tiny flashlights up at once — the pencil and the keychain.

"Careful!" Nick rapped. "Don't throw down anything else."

The hand halted. For the first time, Judas looked surprised. "I'm not throwing out the ball, Mr. Cane." He replaced the flashlights, then changed hands to lift slippery Pierre. He held it appraisingly up to the light. Wordlessly, he reached out and handed it to Nick.

Nick took Pierre easily in his right hand and played catch with him. "A keepsake, as I told you, Judas," he said lightly.