99 and von BOOM looked around, too. “There are people everywhere,” 99 said. “I don’t think you’ll find any privacy here at the railroad station, Max.”
“Why don’t you call from the car on the way to the coast?” von BOOM suggested.
“Because we’re going to walk,” Max replied. “This is a secret mission. If we hired a car, we could be traced. Don’t forget, KAOS is still hot on our trail. So, we have to slip out of town without being seen. We can’t leave any leads that KAOS might follow.”
“You’re right, Max,” 99 said.
“Of course I am. Now, let’s get going. I’ll telephone the Chief as soon as we get on the road.”
With Max in the lead, they started toward the exit. But on the way he stopped at the ticket desk.
“Excuse me,” Max said to the clerk, “but could you tell me the way to the coast?”
“East coast or west coast?”
“The closest one to Alaska.”
“That’s the east coast,” the clerk replied. “It’s just east of here.”
“Thank you.”
Max started out again, then turned back.
“Ah . . . which way is east?” he asked.
The clerk pointed.
“Thank you again,” Max said.
As they left the station, 99 said, “Max, won’t the KAOS agents be able to trace us by talking to that ticket clerk?”
Max halted. He thought a moment, then replied, “You might be right, 99. Just a second.”
He returned to the ticket desk, spoke to the clerk again, then rejoined 99 and von BOOM.
“It’s all taken care of, 99,” Max said. “This time, I asked for directions to the west coast. So, any information he gives the KAOS agents will only confuse them.”
Max, 99 and von BOOM made their way through the town. When they reached the countryside, they stopped again, and Max took off his shoe and dialed.
Chief: Chief here . . .
Max: Aloha, Chief. Wicky-wacky and all that.
Chief: Nevermind the aloha, Max. I’m back in Washington. I had to cut my vacation short. I got an urgent call from HIM. A crisis is afoot.
Max (surprised): Is that what it is! I always thought a crisis was an emergency. Well, live and learn. Right foot or left foot, Chief?
Chief: Max, what I meant was— Nevermind. A crisis is an emergency. Now, why are you calling? Have you lost von BOOM?
Max: I’d rather hear about the crisis, Chief. Is it anything important?
Chief: Max, I don’t know what it is. All I know is, I got a call from HIM. He ordered me to return to Washington immediately and to stand by. That’s what I’m doing.
Max: Oh, Chief . . . why don’t you call him and ask him what the crisis is? I’d think the suspense—
Chief: Max! Forget it! Just tell me why you called.
Max: I’m on my way to the coast, Chief, and I want a submarine to meet us and transport us to Alaska. We can’t wade to Alaska, you know, Chief.
Chief: I’m aware of that, Max. Where do you want the sub to meet you?
Max: On the beach.
Chief: But where, Max?
Max: Straight east from the railroad station.
Chief: All right. I’ll get in touch with the Navy and have them send the sub. Is that all, Max?
Max: Chief, how’s this for an idea? Suppose I call HIM and tell him how anxious you are to know what the crisis is? He probably doesn’t realize how worried you are.
Chief: I’m not worried, Max.
Max: Not worried? Chief, don’t you realize there’s a crisis afoot?
(The line went dead.)
“What crisis, Max?” 99 asked, as Max hung up.
“Nobody knows, 99. Not even HIM HIMself.” He looked up the road. “We better get a move on,” he said. “We don’t want to keep that submarine waiting.”
Max, 99 and von BOOM walked all day, and then all evening. Then, shortly after dark, Max called them to a halt. He cupped an ear.
“What is it, Max?” 99 whispered.
“Either the bathtub is running over or we’re near the ocean,” Max replied.
99 and von BOOM listened.
“It is the ocean, Max, ” 99 said. “We’ve reached the coast.”
Slowly, cautiously, Max, 99 and von BOOM proceeded. Soon they felt sand underfoot. A while later, they heard a sound.
“It must be the sub, Max,” 99 whispered.
“I doubt it, 99. A submarine could never get this close to the shore. If it’s anything, it’s an inflatable rubber raft.”
Suddenly they heard a low whistle.
“I was right,” Max said. “It’s an inflatable rubber raft—and it’s leaking air.”
“Maybe that was a signal, Max.”
“We’ll see. Hello, there!” he called. “Is that you?”
A voice came back through the darkness. “This is me. Is that you?”
“You were right, 99—it was a signal,” Max said. “Come on, let’s get aboard the raft.”
They moved silently across the beach in the direction from which the voice had come. Then, in the dimness, they saw the figure of a man.
“I wasn’t sure it was you,” the man said. “I had a tip that the secret police might be waiting for me.”
Max halted. “You mean KAOS?” he said.
“Yeah, man, like chaos and then some. If they caught me smuggling in these rock ’n’ roll records, they’d put the smash on me.”
There was silence for a second. Then Max said, “I think there’s been a little mistake. When I asked you if you were you, why did you let me think you were?”
“I’m me, man,” the voice replied. “What’re you trying to tell me? You mean you’re not you?”
“Of course I’m me,” Max answered sharply. “You’re the one who’s not you.”
“What happened to me, then?” the man asked. “I was me when I left Alaska. Man! I didn’t know it was going to be that kind of trip!”
“Max, could I try?” 99 said.
“Be my guest.”
“You see,” 99 said to the man, “you’re you, but you’re not the you we were expecting. We’re looking for a submarine that—”
“Yeah, I know that sub,” the man broke in. “They got a dock for it about a mile up the coast. It makes regular trips, picking up all the secret agents that it’s their vacation time. They used to park out there in the briny deep and send a rubber raft ashore. But it was a ricky-tick nuisance. So they got themselves some money from Congress and had a harbor dug out and a dock put in. Money’s the answer to everything.”
“That must be where the sub is supposed to meet us, Max,” 99 said.
“You secret agents going on vacation?” the smuggler asked.
“Secret agents only,” Max replied. “I’m Agent 86, this is Agent 99, and this is— Von BOOM? Von BOOM—where are you?”
“You mean that dumpy little fella that looks like he needs a keeper?” the smuggler asked. “He took off. It was right after you got here. I said I’d had a tip about the secret police, and—”
“Tip!” Max cried.
“After him, Max!”
Max and 99 plunged into the darkness.
“Von BOOM!” Max called.
“You don’t have to shout!” the smuggler shouted after them.
Hurrying, Max and 99 followed the shoreline. They raced on and on, calling out to the Professor every few minutes, but getting no reply.
“Oh, Max, he’s lost!” 99 wailed.
“Then he must be somewhere in this vicinity,” Max replied, “because we’re lost, too.” He shouted again. “Von BOOM!”
“It’s no use, Max.”
“I think I see our mistake, 99,” Max said. “When he heard the word tip, he headed for a restaurant. And all the restaurants are probably back in town. That’s where we should be.”
“Which way is it, Max?”
“According to my calculations, 99, it should be directly to the . . . yes, to the left. Hur
ry—we’ve lost a lot of time.”
Again, Max and 99 plunged into the darkness.
A few moments later, 99 said, “Max . . . I’m getting water in my shoes.”
“So am I, 99.”
“Water in my shoes up to my knees, Max.”
“Yes, well, apparently we should have gone to the right, 99. This way, I think we’re going to reach Alaska before we ever reach that Russian town. Let’s try the other direction.”
They waded ashore, then plunged into the darkness again.
“Max . . . I hear something.”
“That’s my shoes squishing, 99.”
“No, Max, this is—”
“Yes, I hear it, too, 99. Shh!” Max listened for a second. Then he called out. “Hello, there! Is that you?”
A voice answered from the darkness. “No. He’s about a mile back. Are you looking for some smuggled rock ’n’ roll records?”
“We’re looking for a dumpy little man who looks like he needs a keeper,” Max replied.
“What label is it on?”
“Not a record—a real man!” 99 said.
“Hey—that’s good!” How do you change your voice like that?”
“Max,” 99 said, “this may be the submarine.”
“You’re right, 99.” Again, he called out. “Where is the dock?”
“If you’re from a Congressional Investigating Committee, what dock?” the voice replied. “If not, it’s a little bit to the left.”
Max and 99 steered to the left and proceeded.
“Max . . . I’m getting water in my shoes again . . .”
“Sorry about that,” the voice from the darkness said. “I meant my left, not your left.”
Max and 99 backed up, then, steering to the right, moved forward again. After a moment, they felt metal underfoot.
“We’re on the sub, Max,” 99 said.
“Where are you?” Max called out.
“Part of me is right beneath you,” the voice replied. It seemed to be no more than an inch or so away.
“You mean you went below?”
“No, you’re standing on my foot.”
“Oh. Sorry. I’m 86,” he said. “And this young lady with me is 99.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” the voice replied. “But neither one of you sounds to me like you’re a day over thirty-five. Voices sound younger in the dark, I guess.”
“Agent 86 and Agent 99,” Max explained.
“Oh. Good. I’ve been expecting you. I’m Captain Jinx. I’m sorry I didn’t identify myself right away. But there are a lot of Russian spies wandering around out here tonight, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“Really? Russian spies?” 99 said.
“I caught one,” Captain Jinx replied. “He claimed to be looking for a restaurant. Likely story, eh?”
“Is he a little dumpy fellow who looks as if he needs a keeper?” Max asked.
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen him. We’re keeping the lights off so we won’t be spotted by Russian spies.”
“Could you bring him upstairs?” Max said. “I’d like to get a look at him in the moonlight. He may be Professor von BOOM.”
“Shh! Don’t shout! The whole area is crawling with Russian spies.”
The Captain disappeared—below presumably—then returned a few minutes later. He was accompanied by a small dumpy man who, in the moonlight, looked as if he needed a keeper.
“Professor!” 99 cried happily.
“Can’t you two leave well enough alone?” von BOOM grumbled. “I was having mess. The first good American French fries I’ve had in weeks.”
“Well, Captain, I guess we can set sail,” Max said. “We’re all aboard, it seems.”
“Good, good,” the Captain replied. He shouted into the darkness. “Cast off that line!”
“What?” a different voice replied.
“Untie the rope, you landlubber!” the Captain yelled. Then he explained to Max. “I use the local peasants to act as my shore crew,” he said. “It makes for good relations. I pay them union rates.”
“And they let you dock here to pick up spies?”
“Money can do anything,” Captain Jinx replied.
The Captain led the way and they climbed down through a hatch. When they were below and the hatch-cover was in place, the Captain switched on a light.
“Well, here we are, all cozy and—”
“Max!” 99 cried. “Von BOOM! He’s gone!”
“Line!” Max groaned. “The Captain mentioned ‘line!’ He’s on his way to the post office!”
Captain Jinx laughed loudly. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he said. “Relax!”
“But von BOOM is gone.”
“I know, I know. But it’s all right. He’ll never get into the post office. It closed about an hour ago.”
“You don’t understand,” Max began. “He—”
“Max! There isn’t time!”
“You’re right, 99. After him!”
Max scrambled up the ladder. 99 scrambled up right behind him. Max threw open the hatchcover and climbed out on deck. 99 climbed out right behind him.
Max jumped for the dock.
“How deep is it down there, Max?” 99 called from the deck.
“Only up to my chin, 99.”
99 jumped after him.
They swam to the shore, climbed out, then plunged into the darkness, racing along the beach.
“Max . . .” 99 panted “. . . we should be heading for town. That’s where the post office is . . .”
Max stopped. “You’re right, 99. Now, let’s see, the last time, we turned left—and ended up in the water. But then, we were heading in the other direction. Which means that this time we would be right to head left.”
“What, Max?”
“I said left is right.”
“That’s what I was afraid you said.”
“But even if it works out that left is right, 99, you and I know it will turn out to be wrong. So, actually, right is right. Right?”
“Whatever you say, Max.”
“This way, 99.”
They turned right and plunged into the darkness again.
“Max . . .”
“It could happen to anybody, 99. All we have to do is turn around and go in the other direction.”
They waded back to shore, then, once more, plunged into the darkness.
“Von BOOM!” Max shouted.
There was no reply.
“Oh, Max . . . he’s lost!” 99 wailed.
“Nonsense, 99. We know he’s in Russia. It’s just a matter of narrowing it down a bit.”
Tiring, Max and 99 trudged on. The first light of dawn appeared in the sky. And then suddenly they heard a voice. It seemed somehow familiar.
“I’ll sell you one, man,” the voice said. “But, I’ll tell you this: it won’t do you no good. It won’t fit in a mail slot.”
“Von BOOM!” 99 cried.
They rushed ahead and found the Professor standing in the prow of a row boat that was stacked high with phonograph records. Facing him was a young man who was dressed as a sailor.
“Professor, come along,” 99 urged. “We have to get back to the submarine.”
“No, 99, it’s too late for that,” Max said. “That sub is already at sea. We’ll have to take this row boat.”
“I think you’re right, Max.”
“You couldn’t be no wronger, Max,” the young man broke in. “I got to wait here for my contact. If I’m not here with these rock ’n’ roll records when he shows up, he won’t trust me no more. In the smuggling business, you got to protect your reputation.”
“There happens to be a crisis afoot,” Max said.
The smuggler scowled. “Which foot is that, right or left? I never did know.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Max said. “It’s an emergency. The future of the whole U.S. space program depends on getting Professor von BOOM to the North Pole by way of Alaska.”
T
he smuggler looked at von BOOM. “Man, if it depends on that, it’s too sick to make it, anyway,” he replied.
“In that case, I’ll have to use my authority,” Max said. “In the name of the government, I hereby commandeer this row boat.”
“Man, you can’t do that!” the young man said. “Where do you think you are—in Russia?”
“It’s done,” Max said. “Shove off!”
Grumbling, the young man got out of the boat, gave it a push, sending it out into the water, then jumped back aboard. He and Max began rowing toward Alaska.
When they had passed out of sight of land, Max said, “I’m sorry that this is necessary, but you understand, I’m sure.”
“I don’t understand it a-tall, man,” the young man replied. “I was doing myself some free-enterprise smuggling, and all of a sudden the government come along and took over. It’s un-American.”
“Actually, it’s only a slight inconvenience,” Max argued. “As soon as we reach Alaska, you can drop us off, then you can row back to Russia with your smuggled records. Very simple.”
“When we reach Alaska, the Coast Guard will be waiting for us,” the young man said. “And when they see these smuggled records, they’ll get nasty, man.”
“He’s right, Max,” 99 said. “If we get caught, there’ll be a lot of explaining to do.”
“Mmmmm . . . and we don’t have time for that,” Max mused.
“Let’s turn back,” the young man said.
“I have a better idea,” Max replied. “We’ll dump the records overboard.”
The young man shook his head sadly. “Man, you sure work for the government, all right.”
“You keep rowing,” Max said, rising. “I’ll get rid of the records.” He bent down, picked up a stack of records, then headed toward the stern of the boat with it.
Unfortunately, he tripped over his own oar. The stack of records fell from his hands—and crashed through the bottom of the boat.
“Max . . . I’m getting water in my shoes,” 99 said.
“About two seconds and you’re going to have water in your ears,” the young man said. “This row boat is going to sink like a row boat full of records.”
“Max! We’re going down!”
“Everybody overboard!” Max shouted. “Abandon boat!”
“Anybody notice anything funny?” the young man said.
“I do,” 99 replied. “Max—look! The boat is rising!”
Get Smart 7 - Max Smart - The Spy Who Went Out to the Cold Page 12