The Chief frowned. “I don’t think I know that one, Max.”
“Sorry, Chief—I meant the crow-disguised-as-a-wild-goose trick.”
“Oh . . . that.” The Chief nodded. “That might work.”
“I don’t think I’m familiar with it, Max,” 99 said.
“Well, you’ve heard the old saying, ‘as straight as the crow flies.’ And, if you’ve heard that one, you certainly recognize the term, ‘wild goose chase.’ The crow-disguised-as-a-wild-goose trick is a combination of the two. You make your pursuer think you’re going on a wild goose chase, but, actually, you’re zeroing-in on a predetermined destination, more or less as straight as the crow flies.”
“Of course,” 99 brightened. “I know that as the old flimflam trick.”
Max shook his head. “No, 99, they’re not at all alike. The old flimflam trick is nothing but a variation on the old button-button—who’s-got-the-button trick. The difference, you see—”
“Max, nevermind,” the Chief interrupted. “Just tell us what you have in mind.”
Max moved toward one of several maps that were on a wall. “As I see it,” he said, “we have two things going for us. One, we know where we’re going, but, unless KAOS has intercepted one of our communications, the KAOS agents don’t. That gives us the opportunity to lead our pursuers on a wild goose chase—and, by clever dodging, to lose them. Number two, we have the whole world to use as a playing field for our little game of hide-and-seek. Plus—let me add—the fact that our leader is an experienced world traveler who knows this planet like the palm of his hand.”
“You, Max?”
“Exactly, 99. Now, let me show you on this map precisely how we’ll proceed.” He touched a finger to a point on the map. “From here, we will travel by ocean liner to Africa.” He moved the finger to another point “That’s here. Then, by camel—”
“Max—” the Chief said.
“Just a second, Chief. I want to finish this while it’s clear in my mind. By camel,” he continued, moving his finger again, “we will cross the Sahara desert to . . . yes, to here, the Nile river.”
“Max—”
“99, will you let me finish? Where was I? Oh, yes, barging up the Nile in a houseboat. Now that, in due time, will get us to Alexandria—which is, yes, right here. From there,” he continued, moving the finger once more, “we will fly to Russia. By plane, of course.”
“Max, could I—”
“Chief, don’t leave me stranded in Russia. I don’t know the language.” Again, he moved his finger on the map. “By Trans Siberian Railway to the Pacific coast of Russia,” he said. “Then by submarine to Alaska, and, from Alaska, on to the North Pole—which is—” He tapped the finger on a point at the top of the map. “—right here. How does that sound, Chief?”
“Well done, Max. Except for one minor thing.”
“Yes?” Max frowned.
“As an experienced world traveler, who knows the planet like the palm of his hand, I would think you’d realize that that map you’re using is a map of downtown Washington, D.C.” the Chief replied.
Max peered at the map. “Mmmmm . . . I wondered why it didn’t look anything like the palm of my hand. Well . . . no matter. That’s our itinerary, Chief, and if those KAOS agents don’t get dizzy following us and drop by the wayside in short order, then my number isn’t 86.”
“It’s a good plan,” the Chief agreed. “I just hope it isn’t so confusing that it confuses you, too, Max. But, I suppose we’ll have to risk it.”
Professor von BOOM started to rise, and Max put his hands on his shoulders and pushed him back into the chair. “No problem Chief,” he said. “The whole plan is etched clearly in my mind. From here, we’ll go directly to the pier and get aboard a camel, then . . . No, let’s see—we get aboard a ship, don’t we?”
“If you have any trouble, just ask me,” Professor von BOOM said. “I made a mental note of everything you said, and I’ve got a memory like a . . . a . . . uh . . .”
“Yes, like what?” Max prodded.
“It slipped my mind.”
“Well, Max,” the Chief said, rising, “this is going to be a tough one. But, give it all you’ve got. The space program is depending on you. Keep in touch. And, anything I can do to assist you, just let me know.”
“It might not be a bad idea to spot some of our agents around the globe, Chief,” Max said. He faced the map again. “I could use one in, say, Africa, and Russia, and Alaska, and—”
“Max, I can’t do that.”
“Chief, you said ‘anything.’ ”
“I know, Max, but I also explained that all of our people are on vacation. If I started pulling them in and sending them all over the world, we’d have a morale problem.”
“I suppose you’re right, Chief,” Max conceded. “Incidentally, where are they?”
“Well, they did something a little different this year,” the Chief replied. “Each one is visiting a different country. They’re scattered all over the world.”
“Boy, would they be sore if they got called in and sent out on assignments all over the world,” Max said. “And who’d blame them?”
Professor von BOOM got up and headed toward the door.
Max caught him and directed him back to the chair. “What was the key word that time?” he asked.
“What key word?” the Professor inquired. “I thought we were ready to go.”
“We are,” Max said. “Don’t just sit there.”
Professor von BOOM got up again, and he and Max and 99 started toward the exit. At that moment, the Chief’s phone rang.
“Max—just a second; this might be something,” the Chief called.
The three halted.
The Chief picked up the phone, identified himself, then became involved in a conversation. “No, no, he’s completely sane. I can vouch for him,” he said. He covered the mouthpiece of the phone and whispered across the room to Max. “It’s about you,” he said. “It’s the beach authorities. They’re checking on you. They say you were out there in bathing tranks and wearing one brown-and-white oxford.” He spoke into the phone again. “I assure you, he’s perfectly harmless,” he said.
Max whispered back across the room to the Chief. “How did they know it was me? I’m a secret agent.”
The Chief covered the mouthpiece again. “Somebody recognized you and passed the word,” he replied to Max. With one hand, he shooed them out. “Go on—I can handle this.”
Max, 99 and Professor von BOOM departed.
“Would you believe that the brown-and-white oxford is actually a telephone?” the Chief said into the phone.
2.
“NOW,” MAX SAID, halting outside the Chief’s office, “which way to the pier?”
“If I ever knew, I forgot,” von BOOM replied.
“Max, shouldn’t we pack a bag?” 99 said. “If we’re going to the North Pole by way of Africa and Russia and Alaska, we’ll be gone for a few days, at the very least.”
“You’re right, 99. We’ll all go home and pack a bag, then we’ll meet back here in, say, one hour. Okay?”
“Max, should we let Professor von BOOM out of our sight?”
Max looked at her hostilely. “99, before we make another move, I think we better get one thing straight. Who is in charge of this mission—you or me? Who is making the decisions?”
99 lowered her eyes sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Max—you are.”
“I’m sorry, too,” von BOOM said. “To me, she sounds like the one with the brains.”
Max ignored the comment. “Then, as I see it,” he said, “our best chance for making this mission a success is to keep Professor von BOOM in sight at all times. First, we’ll all go to my apartment and pack a bag. Then, 99, we’ll go to your apartment and pack a bag. And, after that, we’ll go to Professor von BOOM’s apartment and pack a bag. Any objections?”
Professor von BOOM started down the corridor toward the exit.
Max and 99 caught up wit
h him and halted him. “What did I say wrong?” Max asked.
“Did I hear ‘objections?’ When I hear that, I’m due in court.”
“Consider the objections overruled,” Max said. “Now, can we leave? At the rate we’re progressing, the North Pole will be melted before we get there.” He looked thoughtful for a second. “I imagine headquarters is surrounded by KAOS agents, just waiting for us to step out, so they can attempt to kidnap the Professor,” he said. “We better leave by the secret exit.”
“Max . . .” 99 said worriedly.
“I know what you’re thinking, 99,” Max said. “You think I’ll get lost again in all those secret passageways. But you’re worrying for nothing. Since the last time, I’ve been studying a map of the secret exit. And now I know it like the palm of my hand.” He led the way down the corridor. “Just trust me,” he said.
Von BOOM whispered to 99. “Can we trust him?”
“Of course,” she replied. “Max knows exactly what he’s doing.”
The Professor nodded gloomily. “So did General Custer when he set out to beat up on that handful of Indians,” he said.
They reached an elevator and got aboard. Max punched the UP button and the car descended. After a minute or so, it stopped, the door slid open, and they got out. They were in a dark anteroom that had been hollowed out of rock. The room was lighted by brightly burning torches. A number of openings led from the room into passageways.
“Let’s see . . .” Max said, looking around. He pointed. “I think we take that tunnel over there. No . . . just a second.” He looked at the palm of his hand. “I was wrong,” he decided. He pointed again, in the opposite direction. “We take that tunnel over there.”
“Are you sure, Max?” 99 said.
Max held out the palm of his hand. “Look for yourself.”
“I have a question,” von BOOM said. “Did you have any Custers in your family?”
“Let’s make up our minds,” Max said irritably. “Are we going to play Twenty Questions or are we going to go out there and beat up on that handful of Indians? Uh . . . scratch that. I don’t know what made me think of it. It’s something a great, great uncle of mine said a long, long time ago.” He led the way toward an opening to a tunnel. “Last one in is a KAOS agent,” he called back.
99 and von BOOM hurried after him. The passageway, too, was lighted by torches. After a few moments, they reached a fork.
“This looks familiar,” Max said. “That way is the thumb, I think, and that other way is the index finger. Or is it the other way around?” He consulted the palm of his hand again. “No, I was right the first time. Or . . . wait a second—is that the same palm? Do you remember, 99? Before, was I using the palm of my right hand or my left hand?”
“Your right hand, I believe, Max.”
“Good. We’re on the right track.” He traced a path on the palm of his right hand. “We follow this line right here,” he said. “It takes us into the thumb, and then, right here at the fingernail, we reach the exit. Let’s go.”
As they continued through the passageway, Max addressed the Professor. “Just to make sure that none of our own agents get lost in here, we have guides posted along the way,” he said. “We should be reaching the first one soon. It’s Willowby, isn’t it, 99?”
“Yes, Max.”
“His appearance may startle you a bit,” Max said, speaking to von BOOM again. “He’s been down here for as long as anyone can recall, and naturally, in this dim light, he’s become a bit bleary-eyed. Also, his beard is a little longer than the beards you usually see. For him, though, it’s an advantage. At night, he uses it as a blanket. And at meals it comes in very handy as a bib. Although, the fact that it’s white is a minor drawback. It shows the gravy stains.”
There was no response from von BOOM.
“Max!” 99 cried. “He’s gone!”
Max halted and looked back. Von BOOM was nowhere in sight. “Don’t worry, 99,” he said. “He isn’t gone, he’s only lost. He must have taken a wrong turn back at that fork. We’ll just retrace our steps, then follow the index finger, and we’re bound to find him.”
“I hope so, Max,” 99 said, uncertainty in her tone, as they made their way back through the tunnel. “But suppose you used one of the key words, and he went off somewhere else? How would we know where to look?”
“He couldn’t possibly get out of here, 99. Unless you happen to know these passageways like the palm of your hand, there’s no escape.”
They reached the fork and this time took the lefthand tunnel. A minute or so later they came upon a tall, bleary-eyed man with a long white beard. Spotting Max and 99, the man immediately snatched up the end of the beard and placed it on top of his head.
“Willowby, you know, you’re not fooling anybody,” Max said. “And, besides, it’s no disgrace at your age to be getting bald.”
“I won’t have to do this much longer,” Willowby replied. “I put in a request for a hairpiece.”
“When was that?” Max asked.
“I can’t remember the exact date. But it was around the time when Lucky Lindy was taking off for Paris. How did he make out, anyway?”
“He made it,” Max replied.
Willowby tossed his beard into the air. “Hurrah for Lucky Lindy!” he shouted exultantly.
“Willowby, I’ll tell you something about requests,” Max said. “By the time you get that hairpiece, you won’t need it. You’ll be in your second childhood, and you’ll be starting a new full head of hair of your own. But, listen, what are you doing over here in this passageway? You’re supposed to be in the tunnel that leads to the exit.”
Willowby looked at him sadly. “You’re lost again, Max.”
“I’m lost!” Max said indignantly. “You’re lost.”
“I’ve been in this same spot for over one-hundred-and-fifty years. The only way I could get lost would be if the tunnels moved.”
“Oh.”
“You took the thumb again,” Willowby guessed.
“All right, nevermind that,” Max said. “I have a more important problem right now. Have you seen anybody wandering around in here who looked like he needed a keeper?”
“Besides you, you mean?”
“I’m not going to dignify that question with an answer, Willowby,” Max replied. “This fellow I’m talking about is short and dumpy and—”
“—and is looking for the post office,” Willowby said. “He stopped here just a few minutes ago.”
“He was looking for the post office?” Max said, puzzled.
“You must have used a key word, Max,” 99 guessed. “I wonder what it was?”
“He probably wanted to mail a fan letter to Lucky Lindy,” Willowby said. “Ol’ Lindy is probably the toast of the town these days, eh?”
“There hasn’t been a lot of fuss made over it lately, Willowby,” Max said. “That happened over forty years ago.”
“Fame is fickle,” Willowby sighed sorrowfully. “They probably don’t remember Abe any more, either.”
“As a matter of fact, they do,” Max said. “Every year, almost the whole country celebrates his birthday. To a lot of people, he’s a great hero.”
Willowby looked surprised. “That’s more than I expected. All that for Abe Berkowitz?”
“Berkowitz?”
“He invented the buggywhip with the patented fox-skin grip.”
“I had another Abe in mind,” Max said. “This one—”
“Max,” 99 broke in. “What about Professor von BOOM?”
“99, his name isn’t Abe. It’s Wormser.”
“Max, what I mean is, shouldn’t we be looking for him?”
“Oh . . . yes.” He addressed Willowby again. “Which way did he go?”
“If you’re asking about that other dumpy little man who looked like he needed a keeper . . .” Willowby pointed straight up. “He went thataway.”
Max peered up at the ceiling of the tunnel. “I find that a little hard to believe,”
he said.
“Would you believe that I directed him back to the elevator?” Willowby asked.
“That makes a little more sense,” Max replied. He signalled to 99, then headed back through the tunnel.
“If you see Lucky Lindy—” Willowby called after them “—tell him some of us still remember!”
Max and 99 hurried back through the passageway to the elevator. When they reached it, Max punched the UP button, then they waited for the car to descend to their level.
“I wonder if it was ‘hand?’ ” Max said, as they stood near the elevator doors.
“If what was, Max?”
“The key word.”
“I don’t understand. What’s the connection between hand and post office?”
“If you request it, 99, you can have your letters hand-stamped. That’s because sometimes when they’re machine-stamped the impression penetrates the envelope.”
“Oh, I see—and the impression is stamped on whatever’s inside the envelope.”
“Correct. For instance, if you were mailing a butterfly to someone and the envelope was machine-stamped, the butterfly might arrive with ‘Buy U.S. Savings Bonds’ stamped on its wing. That can make a butterfly look like a professional flag-waver.”
The car arrived and they got aboard and Max punched the DOWN button and the car began rising.
“Or, maybe it was ‘finger,’ ” Max mused.
“You’re missing me again, Max,” 99 said.
“After I lick a stamp, it always sticks to my finger,” he explained.
The elevator reached the main floor, and Max and 99 got out and hustled along the corridor toward the front door.
“I just hope we’re in time,” 99 fretted. “The post office is only across the street. By now, he could have mailed his letter, or whatever he had in mind, and wandered off to somewhere else.”
“Did I by any chance mention the phrase ‘Through wind and rain and dark of night?’ ” Max said, preoccupied. “As I recall, that has something to do with the post office. I think it’s the excuse they use when they don’t get the mail delivered on time.”
“Max! Look!”
They had reached the front door and 99 was pointing toward the post office across the street. Professor von BOOM had just emerged and was descending the steps.
Get Smart 7 - Max Smart - The Spy Who Went Out to the Cold Page 2