XXV
LOTUS' CONFESSION
Puzzled and impatient, Don Winslow paced up and down the large,luxuriously furnished room. He liked to plan his moves in advance.Instead, ever since he had met Lotus in the dining room of the Empire,he had been facing one unexpected situation after another, inbewildering succession.
Whether Suzette, the French Secret Service operative, had any definiteplans he could not tell. As for Lotus, he wanted another talk with herout of range from any concealed dictaphone.
A soft _click_ of a latch behind caused him to whirl. There stood thegirl herself, laughing, her back against the innocent-looking panelthrough which she must have entered.
"Excuse me, please!" she cried, coming swiftly toward him. "But yourexpression was so funny--as if I had stuck a pin into you. These hiddenpanels and underground corridors make you nervous, don't they,Commander?"
At Don's warning, "Sh-h-h!" Lotus shook her head.
"It's all right, if we speak very low," she reassured him. "Idisconnected the dictaphone at the other end. Besides, there's no onetrying to listen now. Cho-San has other fish to fry just at thismoment."
"What's that?" Don asked quickly. "A moment before you came in a buzzersounded and he acted as if it were a fire alarm!"
"It was a sort of alarm," the girl replied, seating herself in one ofthe deep arm chairs. "Dr. Skell got a telephone message from the garage.It seems that two of our city agents caught someone snooping about theplace, and wanted to know what to do with him. Not that it matters much,but Cho-San will probably want to look him over."
* * * * *
It mattered a great deal to Red Pennington, however, that he had lethimself be caught by such a simple trick. As he sat now in the back of astrange car, under the muzzle of a thug's pistol he understood only toowell what had happened.
His captors, doubtless in the employ of Scorpia, had simply threatenedor bribed his own taxi driver to clear out. The two cars looked muchalike in the dark, and Red had been too unsuspecting to notice thedifference, until a gun poked him in the face. As he sat there fuming athis own stupidity, the second plug-ugly came back from across thestreet.
"I phoned de house an' asked wot ta do wid him," the fellow reported."De guy I talked to said ta leave him in de garage tied up, and turn offde lights." "Okay!" grunted the second mobster. "I guess the big shotswanna give him the once-over. If he's one of them Navy Intelligenceducks they'll prob'ly bump him off, or burn him in their Chinese tortureroom. Anyhow, it ain't none of our business.... Come on, you punk! Gitout an' put your hands behind you!"
The last words were addressed to Red, and emphasized by a wicked jab ofthe pistol barrel that raised a welt along the young officer's jaw.Pretending to be frightened speechless. Red obeyed, but his brain wasworking at top speed to figure out a break.
At the first touch of the gangster's rope, Red's crossed wrists flewapart. Sweeping up, his hands caught his enemy by the head. With apowerful forward heave he hurled the thug's body over his shoulder, thenwhirled to grapple the second man.
A pistol barked, its bullet grazing Red's arm. The next instant he hadwrenched the weapon away by a swift jiu-jitsu trick, sending its ownerreeling with a right hook.
"Now we'll see who's runnin' this party!" he growled. "Hands up orI'll--"
WHAP!
A blackjack wielded by the first mobster slapped Red's unprotected head.The bulky officer collapsed without a groan.
"Tha fat spy! I hope ya killed him!" rasped the man whose jaw Red hadcracked. "He made my teeth ache right down to my heels!"
"Shut up and grab hold of his legs, Gimpy!" the other retorted. "If Idid kill him, we got an alibi. He was threatenin' us with your gun!Anyway, we'll shove him in the garage and let the big shots worry aboutwakin' him up."
To carry Red's limp body across to the warehouse and through a smalldoor at one side was a short job. A second telephone call completed thebusiness. Immediately the pair of mobsters drove away, the bigger onestill groaning about his sore jaw.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, in the living room of the comrades' quarters, Don Winslow wasgetting the real story of the beautiful Scorpion spy, Lotus. The girlhad thrown away all pretense. She said she hated Scorpia and its evilplots to stir up war among the nations.
As for her own part in it, ever since she had been old enough to knowright from wrong, her girlish instincts had rebelled against a life ofspying and deceit. Yet her fear of Cho-San, and especially of thatmysterious personage who called himself the Scorpion, had forced her toobey their orders. Even if she had dared to break with their dreadedorganization, she had nowhere to go, no one to protect her from thevengeance of Scorpia.
At least, Lotus intimated, that was the situation until she had metCount Borg. Andre was not the criminal type she had known. He neverspoke of his past life, even after she came to know him well, but he hadevidently been a man of honor and high culture until joining the ranksof Scorpia.
The lonely girl had fallen desperately in love with him, though he hadnever acted as anything more than a kind friend to her. Whenever shewhispered to him her longing to be free from Scorpia, Andre would showonly a passing interest. Once he had half promised to take her away fromCho-San's jealous guardianship, but it never came to anything.
"And now that Andre is no longer one of Scorpia, he has forgotten me!"Lotus finished tearfully. "Now I will never be free, for there is no onewho will help me!"
"Nonsense," exclaimed Don gruffly, trying to hide the feelings her storyhad roused in him. "Listen, Miss Lotus! You have a lot more real friendsthan you ever had before. I'm one of them, and I know of another righthere in this underground stronghold of Scorpia. When you get clear,there'll be others--Uncle Sam's trusted officers and agents, men andwomen--who'll stand ready to protect you until we've wiped the Scorpionand Cho-San off the slate. You'll pick up your friendship with CountBorg on better terms than before. He'll be needing _you_ this time, MissLotus--needing someone who really cares!"
"Don Winslow," answered the girl solemnly, "you've given me a hope tolive for. That's something so priceless, something so far beyond anythanks, that I won't try to say more. Except that you're going to stopcalling me _Miss_. Promise me that, Commander!"
"Plain Don, to you!" amended the young officer, gripping the stronglittle hand she offered him. "All right, Lotus; we're shipmates from nowon. In the name of the United States Navy, I welcome you to the ranks ofpeace. But remember this, always:--_The things worth living for are alsothe things worth dying for!_ You and I and Suzette--yes, she's ashipmate, too!--may have to give our lives this very night for the causeof world peace!"
The young girl's smile was as fearless as the light that shone in herdark eyes.
"I am ready, Don Winslow!" she said calmly. "You can count on me to helpor to suffer, as the need may be. Even the tortures of Cho-San's LanternRoom could not terrify me now. Am I glad that Suzette...."
As if in answer to her spoken name, the little French maid appeared frombehind the carved Chinese screen. Impulsively she seized her mistress'hands and squeezed them.
"Suzette is glad also, Mademoiselle!" she exclaimed earnestly. "But,_helas_! There is no time to speak of that. I have bad news forCommander Winslow!"