Deadly Doubles Part 8

GEORGE MET NANCY with a quick hug as soon as she stepped off the court. "The sniper got away," she whispered at once. "Our driver's waiting right out front, and the other guy got your things from the locker room."

During a wild ride on the parkway, the driver abandoned the pretense of driving a private limo and used a siren. He turned it off once they were within half a mile of the hotel. All the same, Nancy and George were back in their suite just twenty minutes after the match ended.

Teresa was already there with Bess, and both of them were distraught. The news about the sniper had come over the car's two-way radio as Dan and Bess drove back from the restaurant. Bess had been forced to tell Dan about the entire plot and masquerade. He had been furious.

"He said we were dumb and reckless-that not only could he lose his job as a result, but we might have caused either or both of you to lose your lives!"

"That is crazy," Teresa said sharply. "I knew the risk to me, and I chose to take it!" She looked at Nancy. "But it was not right of me to let you risk your life."

"Yes it was," Nancy said firmly. "How else could we have found out about the dawn executions?"

Then she looked more closely at Teresa. "What's wrong?" she asked in a concerned voice. "I mean, what else else is wrong? What happened at your meeting with Roberto's friend?" is wrong? What happened at your meeting with Roberto's friend?"

Tears welled up in Teresa's eyes. "I am sure it is not true," she whispered. "Or no-I am not sure. But-"

"But?" Nancy prompted gently.

"But this friend, he is telling me Roberto-Roberto was not to be trusted! That he was-what did he say?-a double agent, working for the dictator and and for the revolutionaries. He says he found, in Roberto's papers back in San Carlos, some letters that show that he wanted to for the revolutionaries. He says he found, in Roberto's papers back in San Carlos, some letters that show that he wanted to sell sell the list of names to the senator." the list of names to the senator."

"Sell the list?" Bess gasped.

"Yes," said Teresa. "If she would not pay enough, Roberto would not care what happened to the people on the list!"

"So he really wasn't working to overthrow the San Carlos dictators.h.i.+p?" Nancy asked, appalled.

"There is no way to tell whose whose side Roberto was on." Teresa bit her lip. "And maybe he would even betray me!" side Roberto was on." Teresa bit her lip. "And maybe he would even betray me!"

Nancy was horrified, but there was no time to think over what Teresa had said. It was almost nine o'clock.

"Dawn's at five-fifty-seven," Bess said starkly. "The senator checked. Dan took Teresa straight to her as soon as he found out."

That meant Senator Kilpatrick knew about the masquerade-and Carson Drew probably knew as well. "Where's the senator now?" Nancy asked weakly.

"At the Department of Justice, pus.h.i.+ng panic b.u.t.tons and pulling strings. She took your dad with her," Bess added. "I almost forgot. She said that out of desperation the government agents even took Teresa's poetry book. They used microscopes and infrared light and tried all kinds of code tests, and it's clean. So Teresa will get it and that postcard she was using as a bookmark back tomorrow."

Nancy saw Teresa's face change.

"What postcard?" Nancy asked instantly.

Teresa shook her head, turning away slightly. "It is nothing... I just realized that that card is the last thing Roberto ever gave me," she confessed, wiping away tears.

"Roberto gave gave you a postcard?" Nancy jumped up. "Teresa, think hard. When did he give it to you? And why?" you a postcard?" Nancy jumped up. "Teresa, think hard. When did he give it to you? And why?"

Teresa looked at her, bewildered. "Why... when we were leaving the airport, Roberto said he wouldn't have time to write postcards, that he was stupid to think he would. He threw the cards into a trash can. And I-I said I would like to have the picture of the Capitol to take home to my mother. So Roberto laughed and took it out of the can and gave it to me. I was keeping it in the poetry book."

"Teresa, think think! You'd just gotten into the U.S. You hadn't even left the airport! When and where did Roberto get American postcards?"

Teresa frowned. "He must have bought them-"

"The novelty shop!" Nancy almost shouted. "I knew knew that must have something to do with this! It was the only place Roberto could have gone during those few minutes. He must have written a message on one of the cards." that must have something to do with this! It was the only place Roberto could have gone during those few minutes. He must have written a message on one of the cards."

She faced the others urgently. "Come on! We have to get hold of the manager of that store! The hit list may still be there."

"Hold on," George said promptly. "One, the store's been searched-several times. Two, he could have mailed the card. Three, and most important, the senator's not about to let any of us loose till the hit men are arrested. She gave strict orders to those musclemen outside our doors."

"That's easy," Nancy said. "George, phone the senator's office, tell her a.s.sistant that we need to follow up a lead for the senator."

Hiding a grin, George did so. "We're in luck all the way," she announced when she hung up. "We've got a bulletproof car and escorts, your father's occupied looking up legal measures the senator can invoke to protect the people who could be on the hit list, and your chaperon," she added, turning to Teresa, "has just been picked up by the FBI. It seems she has an interesting past they want to find out more about."

"Chatty a.s.sistant," Bess said, smiling at George. George simply bowed.

Could Senora Ramirez be a terrorist? If so, on which side-the rebels' or the dictator's? Nancy felt a sudden stab of pity for Teresa. She was so alone on her first trip to a foreign country. The man she loved had been brutally murdered, and suddenly she wasn't sure who that man had been. Even her chaperon might betray her.

"Teresa, you stay here. You'll be safe with the guards at the door. Would you like Bess to stay with you?" Nancy asked gently.

Teresa's face was set. "I am coming with you. Perhaps I will remember something more when I am there."

"No one's going anywhere anywhere till Nancy washes her hair and scrubs that skin dye off," Bess said. "There's a contract out for Teresa Montenegro, remember?" till Nancy washes her hair and scrubs that skin dye off," Bess said. "There's a contract out for Teresa Montenegro, remember?"

Nancy and Teresa stared at each other. "Bess is right. You change back. Me, I will be all right as a blond American!" Teresa fairly pushed Nancy toward the shower.

Nancy didn't think it was the time to point out that by then there was probably a contract on her too. She used a few precious minutes to wash the gel out of her hair and to try to scrub away the skin dye. If she looked more deeply tanned than usual, it couldn't hurt much. She pulled on jeans and a s.h.i.+rt.

Then there was a knock on the door. Everybody froze.

"Takeoff time," a detective's voice whispered through the door.

They piled into the car. Nancy was still toweling her wet hair.

During the second wild ride of the night-out to the airport-Teresa sat wrapped in silence, gazing unseeingly at the lights of Was.h.i.+ngton across the river.

The limousine careened into the airport arrivals area. With Nancy in the lead, George, Bess, Teresa, and their escorts swept toward the novelty store.

The owner was in the shop, and he wasn't in a good mood. "I've been over this twice already with other agents," he snapped. "Why can't you people get your act together? Yes, I was in the shop at the time you mentioned. But I've already said I can't remember every foreigner who walks into this place. Or every native, either!"

"Please!" Nancy forced herself to smile at him. "I know this is annoying, but it's terribly important." She glanced over at Teresa, who was gazing as if hypnotized at the poster for the tennis tournament.

"It's about her-her fiance!" Nancy told the storekeeper in a low voice. "He's been murdered, and we need to know everything we can about his movements. He bought postcards. He probably bought them here."

"You mean the poor guy I read about in the papers? Is that the girl-Montenero or something-they're talking about?"

He snapped his fingers. "Now I remember! There was was someone in here buying postcards. I remember him on account of he stared at that poster just the way she's doing. Kind of creepy. And it was weird the way he picked his postcards-just up and down one of the rows, as if the pictures on 'em didn't really matter." someone in here buying postcards. I remember him on account of he stared at that poster just the way she's doing. Kind of creepy. And it was weird the way he picked his postcards-just up and down one of the rows, as if the pictures on 'em didn't really matter."

"He was interested in the poster? Did he say anything about the tournament?" Nancy asked urgently.

"Nope. Just stared. And he touched it." The shop owner scratched his head. "That was weird, too, come to think of it. Seemed like it was the poster itself he was interested in, not what it said. I had to tell him to take his big hands off it. We don't let people mess the airport up with graffiti or anything," he added smugly.

Take his hands off the poster... Nancy moved toward it as if hypnotized herself. Her eyes swept over it. Then, delicately, her hand reached out to touch one word. Semi-Pro Semi-Pro.

The dot over the i i seemed ever so faintly larger than the dot over the seemed ever so faintly larger than the dot over the i i in the word in the word International International, which was set in the same type.

Nancy's index finger touched the dot, her nail sc.r.a.ped against it-and the dot came off in her hand.

She knew what it was even before she heard one of the agents breathe the word behind her shoulder. "Microdot!" "Microdot!"

Chapter Sixteen.

NANCY KNEW SHE would never forget that frightful night. The stretch limousine must have had a souped-up motor, because the ride away from the airport was a blurred montage of headlights, nightlit monuments, and the Capitol dome glowing like a beacon in the distance.

The federal agent at the wheel did not volunteer where they were headed. Nancy didn't ask. She was well aware that if time hadn't been so urgent, she and her friends wouldn't have been allowed to go along.

Sometime during the evening, a light rain had begun to fall. The dark streets gleamed, and raindrops streaked the winds.h.i.+eld. Nancy stole a glance at her watch. Time was running out!

The limousine tore past the White House. A group of demonstrators huddled forlornly with umbrellas and banners on the far side of the street, under the watchful eye of police.

"Protesting the dictators.h.i.+p in my country," Teresa said emotionlessly. Her hands were clasped tightly, her face like stone.

At last the limo turned into the entrance to a garage. An armed guard at the entry booth checked the driver's ID. They parked in a cavernous, almost empty enclosure that was brightly lit. Their footsteps echoed as they walked across the concrete, and Nancy noticed that their escorts held guns in their hands.

The driver punched a coded sequence of numbers into an electronic device beside a heavy steel door. For a moment a tiny beam of red light swept their faces. Then, noiselessly, the door slid open.

Surrounded by their armed guard, Nancy and her friends stepped inside into a bright, hospital-white corridor. The steel door slid shut again, and another door concealed in the opposite wall slid open.

Then they were crowded together into a small, futuristic elevator car, which sped upward.

When they stepped out, Nancy fought back a giggle. Unconsciously she'd been expecting a science-fiction laboratory of some kind. But the room they entered was a cross between a drab office and her high school chemistry lab.

The electronics technicians who were waiting for them, though, were all business. As soon as the federal man produced the tiny i i dot from the poster, it was whisked beneath a high-powered microscope. dot from the poster, it was whisked beneath a high-powered microscope.

Nancy, Teresa, Bess, and George were ushered into a small office and told to stay there.

"Make yourselves some coffee if you want to. There may be something around here to go with it," the man in the lab jacket added. He went out, shutting the office door behind him.

"None of us has had any dinner yet, come to think of it," George said in a flat voice. "Not that it matters."

Bess tasted the coffee that was left in the gla.s.s pot and made a face. "This is awful." She emptied the pot, washed it, refilled it, and turned on the machine. Nancy rummaged in the small cupboard for the "something" the scientist had referred to. Her stomach felt like lead, but she had to keep her hands busy. She found a box of crackers and a jar of cheese spread and began making snacks for everyone.

George paced between the window and the door. Teresa sat on a plaid daybed, looking like a statue.

The coffeepot steamed, sending out the strong, comforting smell of brewing coffee. The clock ticked away. Eleven-thirty. Midnight. One A.M. Two A.M.

"Why don't they tell us something?" Nancy exclaimed at last.

"Remember the old saying, no news is good news." Bess pressed a third mug of coffee into Nancy's hand.

Nancy set it down so hard that the scalding liquid splashed her wrist. "I can't stand this. I have to know!"

She opened the office door. At once a young woman in a lab coat appeared. "I'm sorry. It's really much better if you stay in there."

"Tell me something!" Nancy pleaded.

"You were right. It was was a microdot-a piece of film. The list is on it. We still haven't been able to crack the code, but all the mechanics of protection have been set up. Agents in all the major cities of the U.S. are standing ready to provide protection for the people on that list as soon as the names are decoded. And now I must get back to my computer!" a microdot-a piece of film. The list is on it. We still haven't been able to crack the code, but all the mechanics of protection have been set up. Agents in all the major cities of the U.S. are standing ready to provide protection for the people on that list as soon as the names are decoded. And now I must get back to my computer!"

She vanished again.

"A lot of good protection will do if it comes too late," George muttered as Nancy made her report.

Teresa's eyes were closed, and her lips moved silently.

Three A.M. Four.

Bess had fallen asleep. Even George was drowsing. Nancy struggled against the heaviness in her eyelids.

She thought she was awake, but all the same the faint creak as the office door opened made her jump. Dan stood silhouetted in the doorway, his face one broad grin.

"It's okay. They've cracked the code. The FBI has gone to everybody's rescue." Dan went over and kissed Bess awake. "Come on, honey. I'm taking you girls home."

As they headed for the elevator an older man came toward them. He was dressed in an immaculate navy-blue suit, but his tie was askew. "Which one of you is Nancy Drew?" he asked.

Nancy stepped forward, and he shook her hand firmly. "A fine job. Senator Kilpatrick said you were good, and she was right. Thanks to you, a lot of people are going to sleep better from now on."

"Has El Morro been caught?" Nancy asked at once.

"You'll be hearing all about it in the morning. I understand the senator's planning a news conference." The agent smiled warmly and went back to his office.

The limousine repeated its ride through the Was.h.i.+ngton streets. "Stop a minute," Dan ordered as it pa.s.sed an all-night fast-food restaurant. He went in and returned with bags of hamburgers, french fries, and sodas.

When they reached the hotel, they carried them up to their suite. Dan intended to sleep on the sitting-room sofa again, and Teresa would have the other bed in Nancy's room. Her chaperon was still being detained for questioning.

By the time they finished eating, the first streaks of light were in the eastern sky.

"I can't go to sleep now! Can you find out-have all the people on the list been warned in time?" Nancy asked Dan.

Dan telephoned Senator Kilpatrick's office and in a few minutes turned back to Nancy jubilantly.

"It's okay! We got to 'em in time! So far El Morro's escaped capture, but there's a dragnet out for him. At eight o'clock this morning the senator's going to go on the air to announce that San Carlos's president-for-life has fled his palace. The revolution is underway, but Senator Kilpatrick has been able to help those political leaders she's been meeting with work out a coalition government."

"So there's no reason for El Morro to hang around here, especially if he's just a hired a.s.sa.s.sin," George commented.

"Right. There are a lot of people watching for him at the airports. He'll probably head for home, wherever that is, as soon as the senator announces that all five people on the hit list are now under U.S. government protection. Then we'll nab him."

Nancy jerked upright. "Five people?" people?"