The Defector

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The sun always shines in Acapulco. In a small hotel room overlooking a white-sand beach, Nick Carter, number one Killmaster for AXE, watched the red ball of setting sun splash its color over the sea. He enjoyed the sight and rarely missed it, but he’d been in Acapulco a month now and he felt uneasy restlessness building inside him.

Hawk had insisted he take this time off, and Nick was all for it at first. But a month was too long for the idle life. He needed an assignment.

Killmaster turned from the window, already darkening in dusk, to gaze at the ugly black phone on the nightstand. He almost wished it would ring.

A rustle of bed sheets sounded at his back. Nick completed his turn to face the bed. Laura Best held her long tanned arms out to him.

“Again, darling,” she said in a voice husky with sleep.

Nick went into her arms, his powerful chest crushing her perfectly formed naked breasts. He worked his lips over hers, tasting sleep on her breath. Laura moved her mouth eagerly. With her toes she inched the sheet down from between them. The movement excited them both. Laura Best was an expert at making love. Her legs, like her breasts — indeed like all of her — were perfectly formed. Her face held a childlike beauty containing both innocence and wisdom and, at times, open desire. Nick Carter had never known a more complete woman. She was all things to all men. She had beauty. She was rich, thanks to the oil fortune left to her by her father. She had brains. She was one of the international Beautiful People, or as Nick preferred, Jet-Set leftovers. Making love was her sport, her hobby, her vocation. For the past three weeks she’d been telling her international friends she was madly in love with Arthur Porges, buyer and seller of government surplus goods.

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