“Yes . . . I see it!”
“It’s the typical situation,” Max said. “Boris, the typical tourist, probably ran out of money. His eyes were too big for his purse. So, he got himself a job. Doing the one thing he knows best by now—sight-seeing.”
“Hurry! He’s going so fast!”
Max speeded up, and pulled up alongside the bus. “There’s only one passenger,” Blossom said. “And, look! It’s Fred!”
“Talk about your coincidences!” Max said.
“I’ll try to get his attention,” Blossom said. She yelled. “Yoo-hoo! Fred! Yoo-hoo! It’s me!”
Seeing her, Fred rolled his eyes.
“Get Boris’s attention!” Max said. “He’s the one who’s driving!”
“Yoo-hoo! Boris! Yoo-hoo!”
“Ah . . . he sees you!”
“He’s going faster!”
“He’s ashamed—probably doesn’t want us to know that he made a fool of himself and had to take a job,” Max said.
“He’s getting away!”
“Hardly!” Max said. He stepped harder on the accelerator and pulled up alongside the bus again. “I’ll cut him off,” he said. He turned the car gradually in toward the bus, until finally the bus had to stop.
Max, Blossom and Fang jumped out of the car and hurried to the front door of the bus. It opened. They climbed aboard. And found themselves face to face with a pistol.
“Stuck ’em up!” Boris said.
“Aren’t you carrying this a bit far, Boris?” Max said. “Do you think it really matters to us that you spent all your money and had to take a job? As far as we’re concerned, you’re the same old Boris. Now put down that gun. Murdering us and disposing of our bodies won’t keep your secret. There’ll be other tourists from Zinzinotti on this bus, and one of them is sure to spot you.”
Boris clapped a hand to his brow. “I can’t stand it! This stupidity! I’ll tell you,” he said. “I’m not a tourist, I’m a FLAG agent!”
Max winced. “Boris, I’m very disappointed!”
“You are also my captives,” Boris said, waving the gun. “Move to the back of the bus!”
Blossom turned to Fred. “Fred! Do something!” Fred’s arm raised. The nickel dropped into his slot. “Peep-a-dotta, poop-a-dotta, dippa-dotta-boop!” His eyes rolled. The lemons came up. He spoke:
“Computer who tries to ‘do something’ when FLAG agent holding gun on him has no more brains than you-know-who.”
“He means you,” Blossom said to Max.
“I hardly think so. He’s probably talking about the person who put him together while watching an old Charlie Chan movie.”
“Back! Back!” Boris commanded.
Max, Blossom and Fang retreated.
“Under the rear seat you will find snorkels,” Boris said. “Put them on!”
“Snorkels? You mean that underwater diving gear? What’s that for?” Max said.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Boris snarled. “Put it on!”
Max, Blossom and Fang each donned a snorkel.
Boris snickered. “Excuse me,” he said, “but you look very strange standing in the back of a bus wearing diving gear.”
“All right,” Max said sharply, “you were looking for a laugh and now you’ve had it. May we take off this ridiculous equipment?”
“Take a word of advice,” Boris said. “Don’t do it. You’ll regret it.” He moved back to the front of the bus. “You, Fred—you come with me,” he said.
Fred followed him.
When they reached the front, Boris said to Fred, “Stand by the door.” Then he got behind the wheel and started the bus moving again.
“He’s taking us someplace,” Blossom said.
“I hope it’s not the regular tour,” Max said. “I’ve seen Chinatown.”
“We’re heading east,” Blossom said.
“Well, he can only go so far in that direction. In time, he’ll come to the East River and have to stop.”
“I’ll bet he’s taking us to that submarine,” Blossom said.
“How many times do I have to tell you, there is no sub—”
Boris suddenly jumped up out of the driver’s seat. “Smooth sailing!” he called out.
“Boris! No!”
Boris opened the front door, shoved Fred out, then leaped after him. “Bon voyage!” he called back.
“Max!” Blossom shrieked. “The bus! It’s headed straight for the river!”
“Well . . . there you are, there’s your explanation,” Max said. “When Boris made us put on these snorkels, I thought he’d flipped his lid. But he knew what he was doing all along. That’s a relief.”
The bus lunged out into space—then nosed downward toward the river.
“Quick!” Max called. “Out the emergency exit!” He pulled the lever on the emergency door and shoved the door open. “Ladies first!”
Blossom jumped.
“Let’s see now, which is it, gentlemen or dogs second?” Max said.
Fang jumped.
“Well, that answers that,” Max said, following Fang out.
When Max bobbed to the surface a few seconds later he found Blossom and Fang already there. There was also another party present—a thin, pipe-like person, who had only one eye, which was located on top of his head.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Max said.
“Max! You’re talking to a periscope!” Blossom said.
“I don’t think the middle of the East River is anyplace to be choosy,” Max said. “Besides, he winked at me.”
“Ooooh!” Blossom shrieked. “We’re rising!”
The submarine was surfacing, taking Max, Blossom and Fang with it. A moment later they found themselves on its deck. A hatch cover opened. A head appeared. It was the head of a man. He was wearing a captain’s cap and a monocle in each eye.
“Welcome aboard,” the man said genially. “I am Captain 49, and you are my prisoners.”
“I take it back,” Max said. “We have met somewhere before, haven’t we?”
“That is correct,” the Captain smiled.
“I just can’t place the face,” Max said.
“I was sure you would remember—the summer of ‘61.”
“Ahhhhhhhh, yes,” Max nodded. “I’m not very good on faces, but I never forget a summer.”
“And even more recently,” Captain 49 said.
“Of course! You’re 94! 49 is 94 backwards! I should have known the instant I saw the two monocles!”
“What does that mean?” Blossom said.
“Obvious, isn’t it?” Max said. “He’s an agent for both sides—94 for us, and 49 for them, In other words, two monocles—a double agent!”
“Gee,” she said disappointedly, “and I thought he was just a nice guy that might be willing to dump his three wives if he had the right incentive.”
“You are very clever, Smart,” 49 said. “It will be a pleasure to joust wits with you. But now, come aboard. We are about to submerge.”
Max, Blossom and Fang followed 49 through the hatchway. Inside, Max said, “You’re pretty clever yourself, 49. Hiding a submarine in the East River is a neat trick. Especially when you consider that it’s impossible.”
“Coming from a man with your brains, I consider that a compliment indeed,” 49 smiled.
“Rorff!”
“What did he say?”
“He said that if we’re going to submerge somebody better close the hatch cover,” Max translated.
“Oh, yes . . . I keep forgetting that,” 49 said, closing the hatch cover.
“I suppose you intend to torture us now,” Max said.
“I hadn’t thought of it,” Captain 49 replied. “But that’s an excellent idea. First however, I must give the order to submerge.” He picked up the transmitter of an intercom system and spoke into it. “This is the Captain. Submerge!”
From a speaker overhead came a reply. “What, Captain?”
“Submerge! Submerge!
”
Again, a reply. “Is that up or down, Captain?”
“Down, you idiot! Take it down!”
“Okay, okay,” replied the voice. “You don’t have to get in a tizzy about it!”
“Aiiiii!” Captain 49 groaned. “I’m surrounded by incompetents!” To Max, he said, “It’s nice to have a fellow brain aboard—even if not for long.”
“Meaning?” Max said.
“Meaning, of course, that I must destroy you,” Captain 49 replied. “With you alive, there is a possibility that you might abort our mission. Consequently . . . well, it is self-explanatory.”
“Your mission,” Max said. “If you mean robotnapping Fred, your mission has already been accomplished. He’s in the hands of Boris.”
“Oh . . . that,” Captain 49 smiled. “That is only a bit of moonlighting that Boris is doing. Actually, we are here to destroy the U.N. Building. But, since We were here anyway, Boris said, ‘Why not robotnap Fred, and make a full day’s work of it?’ Naturally, I gave in to his little whim. That is how one keeps one’s comrades happy. All work and no play makes Boris a dull agent, you know.”
Max eyed him narrowly. “You say you intend to destroy the U.N. Building . . . just how do you intend to do it, may I ask?”
“Simple. With one torpedo.”
“You’ll never get away with it!” Max snapped.
“And why not?”
“Because you’re a Bad Guy, and Bad Guys never win!”
“Ho-ho!” Captain 49 laughed. “We shall see about that! Come. I will show you my torpedo tube. Perhaps then you will change your mind.”
Captain 49 led them through the submarine to a forward compartment. “This is my torpedo tube,” he said, reaching there. “And this,” he said, pointing to a torpedo-like object, “is my torpedo.”
“I see,” Max said reflectively. “And what time is Zero Hour?”
“Seventeen-hundred hours,” Captain 49 replied. “Exactly what time is that?”
“Oh . . . around five-ish.”
“That gives me only fifteen minutes to abort your mission,” Max said. “You were right—this will truly be a test of wits!”
“Yes,” Captain 49 smiled, “since you will now be bound and gagged and locked in my cabin.” He spoke into the intercom again. “This is the captain speaking. Send a guard forward to pick up three prisoners.”
The voice replied. “Where is ‘forward,’ Captain?”
“Up front, you numbskull!”
“Yah, yah, yah! I suppose you know everything!” the voice sneered.
“Aiiiiiii-yi-yi!”
A seaman appeared a few moments later. He led Max,. Blossom and Fang to the Captain’s cabin, then bound them with rope and gagged them.
The minute he was gone, Max said, “Mmmmmmph!”
“Blfgplemlph!” Blossom answered irritably.
“Rorff!” Fang barked. The seaman had neglected to gag him.
“Prgaphooft!” Max said to Fang.
Instantly, Fang began chewing on the knot at his paws. A second later, he had it undone. Next, he removed the gag from Max’s mouth.
“I knew that knot would be a cinch,” Max said, struggling against his ropes.
Fang removed Blossom’s gag. “How? How did you know?” she said.
“The efficiency of the seamen aboard this junk is appalling,” Max said. “I knew they wouldn’t be very good at knots. Now,” he said to Fang, “Come over here and untie me.”
In less than a minute, both Max and Blossom were free again.
Max rushed to the cabin door. But it was locked.
“Stand back!” he said. “I’m going to break it down!”
“But Max—”
Blossom’s protest was too late. Max was already hurtling toward the door. He hit it! And bounced back a good ten feet, landing in a sprawled position on the floor.
“That door is made of steel!” Blossom said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you!”
“Hard steel, too,” Max said painfully, rising.
“We’re lost!” Blossom cried.
“Not yet, we aren’t,” Max said. “I still have my wits.” He picked up the intercom transmitter and spoke into it. “Attention! Captain 49 is wanted in his cabin! The prisoners are ready to talk!”
“Talk what?” Blossom said. “He didn’t even ask us anything.”
“If I know my FLAG agents, he’ll be in here like a shot,” Max said. “They’re nosy, the whole lot of them. Just let them hear that somebody somewhere is ready to talk, and you couldn’t keep them away with a team of horses. Curiosity, I guess.”
There was a sound at the door, then suddenly it flew open.
Captain 49 rushed in. “Who? Who? Who?” he said. “Who said what?”
“I said it,” Max replied. “I said, ‘Your number’s up, 49!’ ”
And, so saying, Max grasped 49 by the wrist, and, using his favorite jujitsu grip, flung him back over his shoulder. Captain 49 struck the wall, and slid to the floor, unconscious.
“Quick—to the torpedo room,” Max said. “We’ve only minutes to spare!”
They dashed from the Captain’s cabin, rushed through the tunnel-like corridors of the sub, and, minutes later, reached the torpedo room. Fortunately, there was no guard at the hatch.
“Inside,” Max said, beckoning to Blossom and Fang.
“Now what?” Blossom said.
“That torpedo!” Max said. “First, we’ll behead it!”
“Behead it?”
“I’m not sure what the technical term is,” Max said. “What I mean is, we’ll take the explosive charge off the front end.”
“Oh . . . disarm it, you mean.”
“Which just goes to show how little you know about it,” Max said. “Whoever heard of putting the explosive in the arm—it’s in the head!”
“Rorff!”
“Fang is right,” Max said. “We can discuss terminology later. Right now, there’s a job to be done.” He approached the front end of the torpedo. “Anybody had any experience with these things? I saw a guy do this in a movie once—but he flubbed it and blew the whole sub to smithereens.”
“That part there—the part that looks like a chocolate cream—I think that’s where the explosive is,” Blossom said. “I think you unscrew it. I saw that in a movie, too.”
“And what happened?” Max said.
She looked suddenly downcast. “I guess it was the same movie,” she said.
“Rorff!”
“Oh, was that it?” Max said.
“What did he say?”
“He said the mistake the guy in the movie made was, he unscrewed it clockwise, when he should have unscrewed it counterclockwise. Fang tried to tell him that during the movie, but the guy wouldn’t listen.”
“Hurry!” Blossom said.
Max began unscrewing the head of the torpedo—counterclockwise. After a few seconds it came loose. Gingerly, he placed it on the floor. “Now then, which part is the explosive?” he said.
“That part that says DANGER?” Blossom suggested.
“Who knows?” Max said. “This is a foreign torpedo—DANGER might mean PRIVATE.”
“Can’t we just leave the whole head off?”
“Somebody would be bound to notice. No, we’ll take a chance and leave out this DANGER part. It stands to reason that even if DANGER means PRIVATE, it’s still the explosive. Nobody wants anybody fooling around with their explosive.”
“Will you hurry!” Blossom said.
“Easy does it. You don’t make a mistake with these things twice.”
Cautiously and carefully, Max removed the section labeled DANGER. Step by wary step he moved away from the torpedo, then dumped the part into a wastebasket.
“I hope nobody drops a lighted cigarette in there,” he said, returning.
“Now, what about us?” Blossom said.
“We’re leaving the sub,” Max said. “Crawl in.”
“In? In where?”
“In
to the torpedo,” Max said. “It’s our passage to freedom. When they fire the torpedo, they’ll shoot us out with it.”
“But it looks so cramped!”
“Rorff!”
Max chuckled. “Very good, Fang.”
“What say?”
“He said it’ll be just like riding the subway. Get it? Under water, submarine, subway.”
Blossom groaned. “Ladies first, I suppose,” she said.
“That’s the American way,” Max replied.
Blossom slid into the torpedo, feet first. Fang crawled in next. Then Max followed, and, from inside, replaced the torpedo head.
“I see by my radium dial that it’s close to five-ish,” Max said. “Something should happen soon.”
A few seconds later, they heard voices. They recognized the voice of Captain 49.
“Are we ready to fire, Captain?” asked a seaman.
“Shoot, shoot, I don’t care,” Captain 49 said, sounding sick. “I’ve got a splitting headache.”
The trio inside the torpedo felt it being lifted, then slipped into the tube.
“You—what are you doing there!” they heard the Captain growl.
“Just lighting up, Captain,” another voice said.
“No smoking around a torpedo!” the Captain said. “Throw that cigarette out!”
“Yes, sir. Where’ll I throw it?”
“In the wastebasket, you fool! Am I the only one around here who can do any thinking!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ready to fire, Captain!”
“So shoot, already!”
There was a shattering explosion! The torpedo ripped forward, slicing into the water!
“Well, it’s clear sailing from here on out!” Max said cheerily to his crew.
9.
THE TORPEDO struck the U.N. Building with a thud that knocked the head off. Max’s own head emerged. He looked around, got his bearings, then squinted toward the river. Neither periscope nor submarine could be seen.
Max crawled out and climbed to dry land, followed by Blossom and Fang.
“It’s raining,” Blossom commented.
“It’s hailing,” Max corrected.
“Rorff!”
“By cracky, he’s right,” Max said.
“What say?”
“He says it’s hailing orange ping-pong balls.”
Blossom nodded. “He’s right, all right. How strange.”
Get Smart 1 - Get Smart! Page 10