"They have him trapped. He cannot get away."
"How long before they expect to capture him?" Morales asked.
"The rain, it is come to the mountains," the Khmerranian said. "It is hard to say."
"What about that helicopter we saw just before this plane came?" Morales asked.
"It vanished, senor!"
"Things like that don't vanish!" Morales snapped. "Get some men and find out what become of it. That woman from THRUSH is in it, if we can depend on the information we received by radio from Hong Kong. We must move fast!"
He turned and started up the freshly hacked trail in a clumsy run. The others followed him.
"There goes our chance," Slate said bitterly. "If that idiot had waited a few minutes more, we would have had our yacht!"
"If a frog had wings, he would bump himself as he jumps," April said. "You had better report to Mr. Waverly that we're not doing so good."
"I suppose so," Slate said glumly .
He pulled out the pen-communicator and extended the antenna. After the connection was made, he reported that they had been shot down.
"I don't know what you can do, Mr. Slate," Alexander Waverly said, "They will have this man before we can get help to you. We are handicapped by international diplomacy. The United States representative to the United Nations requested that organization's help in putting pressure on the Khmerranian government to permit a search party to come in to look for the astronaut."
"And the Khmerranians refused, sir?" Slate said.
"Yes," Waverly said. "And the U.S. has never admitted the real danger. It cannot afford to. Everything depends upon you."
"The only clue we have is that he is trapped in a place called the Mount of the Castle."
"Call me back in fifteen minutes," Waverly said. "If that is a mapped landmark in Khmerrania, I'll have details from the geographical computer."
Waverly broke off the connection. April and Slate followed the fresh path down to the river. They found the marks where the boat had been drawn up on the shore, but there was no sight of the men. At this point the river made a sharp bend.
They could see up and down it but a short distance.
By this time fifteen minutes had passed. Slate called U.N.C.L.E. headquarters again.
"Yes," Waverly said quickly. "The Mount of the Castle is a famous landmark far off the beaten track. It is so difficult to get to that the last time it was visited was ten years ago, when an archeological group went there. It is the ruins of an ancient Khmer stronghold in a very inaccessible location on a rugged mountain about a mile from where the Mekong River cuts through a sheer gorge."
"Do you have our location, sir?" Slate asked.
"Yes, our directional devices pinpointed your transmission. You are about twenty miles below the location. You should be able to see it from your position."
"There is a severe storm coming in," Mark Slate replied. "There are nothing but clouds to the north of us."
"Well, it is there!" Alexander Waverly said. ''Take the National Geographic Society's word for it! Just get up there and get this man!"
"Yes, sir!" Mark Slate said. "Anything else, sir?"
"Just do that and it will be sufficient---sufficient to save the major cities of the world from total destruction!”
"Yes, sir," Slate said. "We will take care of the matter."
"Mr. Slate, I am positive that you will!" Waverly said.
There was complete conviction in his voice. After Slate broke the connection, he said to April Dancer, "I hope he's right."
"There is something else," April said. "This astronaut is running for his life. He will not know we're friends. He probably thinks everyone who approaches him is an enemy."
"We'll try to change his mind!" Slate said positively. "He's getting help, like it or not."
"Okay, what do we do?"
"First we'll get down the river to Site G headquarters and see what we can do about stealing a boat. They must have more than one. Then we'll divide up the enemy between us and go for broke."
It was late in the evening when they finally fought their way up the river to Site G. Heavy crocodile infestation kept them from swimming and the lush thick jungle grew right down to the water's edge which required them to cut a way for themselves.
Surveying the site from screening trees, they saw that site G looked much like any jungle teak logging camp set up by a river to handle hardwood shipments cut in the mountains.
There was a clearing and a small cluster of houses backed by an elephant compound. A boathouse and a pier jutted out into the river. There were two motor boats tied to the pier, but neither was the one used by the X-men who came to the plane.
"That means they have gone north to join the Khmerranians who have the astronaut trapped," April said.
Slate nodded soberly. "Even if we are successful in stealing a boat, I'm afraid they have a good head start on us."
"There are still quite a number of people at the station," April said, peering intently through the leaves.
"Yes, it looks like a real teak camp," Slate said. "Too many for us. We'll have to wait for darkness."
"That'll be an hour," she said. "And the storm is rolling in fast. We can't wait, Mark."
"I know," he said and grinned at her. "I was just hoping. Come on. I never wanted to grow old anyway!"
They worked their way as closely as they could. Then Mark Slate took a thin vine, as narrow as a piece of string. He jammed his gun into the fork of a tree and fastened the vine to the trigger. Then he and April worked their way down along the edge of the clearing, tying more lengths of vine to the original piece.
"I think that is as much as we can trust," Slate said at last. "If we make it too long, it will break. Are you ready?"
April nodded. Slate pulled his improvised cord. The gun exploded, ripping a shell through the slatted walls of the elephant compound. The great beasts trumpeted in sudden fear. The two agents from U.N.C.L.E. could hear the shouts of the mahouts, running to quiet their charges.
"Come on!" Slate said hurriedly. Under cover of the excitement, he and April made a dash for the boat dock. They reached the boat easily. Slate kicked over the engine.
"They've seen us, Mark!"
"Hang on tight!" he rasped. "The boat is chained to the dock. I'm jerking it loose!"
He gunned the engine. The boat shot forward. April braced herself as best she could, but the terrific jar knocked her back in the cockpit. For a second she was half stunned and did not realize what was happening.
The chain did not break. It ripped away a section of the dock way. The jerk and the heavy drag caused Slate to lose control of the boat. It spun around and rammed its bow into the soft mud bank just below the pier.
A bullet ripped into the boat. Slate gave up trying to free the stuck boat. He whirled and shot back. Another bullet smashed into the hull from a different direction. The loggers were coming in on them from two sides.
April Dancer raised up, still groggy, but her mind was sufficiently clear to understand their extreme danger. She fumbled in her purse, pulling out the little package of smoke bomb mints. Tiny marvels from the U.N.C.L.E. chemical laboratory, they turned into bombs when dropped in water.
She broke the package and hurled its entire contents in a sweeping circle. Smoke shot up from the water, billowing in a blinding cloud that swept down upon them. It was stifling, but protecting.
"I've got to get in the water and push us off!" Slate gasped. "Hold your breath, April. I think we can make it before we suffocate in the smoke!"
"Mark! Be careful!" April cried. "There's crocodiles in the water!"
"I can't help it!" he gasped. "Being eaten is no worse than falling into the hands of those Khmerranian devils!"
"Just a minute” April cried. "Let me beat on the water. Maybe that will scare them away!"
She started hammering on the surface with a piece of the broken dock. Slate jumped out, waist deep in the churning water. An ugly snoot rammed out
of the river just beyond him. April could see it dimly through the thickening smoke. She jerked up her gun and fired as the huge mouth opened.
The ugly reptile turned over, threshing the water in agony. Slate gave it no more heed than a mosquito. He threw his entire weight against the bow of the stuck boat. The boat moved slightly.
"Now reverse the motor, April!" he shouted. "It's far enough out now that it won't tangle the propeller."
April sprang back and threw the engine in gear. The boat shuddered. Slate heaved against the bow again. It started to move. He pulled himself aboard.
The smoke was thickening so much both were coughing badly. Suddenly a bullet crashed through the smoke and buried itself into the gunwale.
"Can they see through the smoke?" April gasped.
"They're shooting blindly. Get down, April! We're going to make a run for it!"
He opened the throttle full. The little boat shot forward. It zoomed out of the spreading smoke screen. Three guns cut down on them the minute they appeared. It was useless to try to shoot back. The boat was so rough in the choppy water that it was impossible to aim. Their only salvation lay in all the speed they could get out of the little boat.
It did not take long to get beyond range of the rifles, but four of the Khmerranians grabbed the other boat and set out in pursuit. It was larger than the small craft April and Slate were able to steal. It started gaining immediately. April fished a package of the chewing gum explosive from her bag of U.N.C.L.E. protective devices. A couple of water spouts from the powerful demolition material forced their pursuers back momentarily. But as the night fell, April could see that they had not given up the pursuit.
Total darkness came quickly and with it the heavy rain that preceded the oncoming typhoon. The river became a torrent. The boat made headway with difficulty. Slate turned on the searchlight in the bow, but it was scant help. They huddled wet and miserable, stung by slashing rain and buffeted by the rising fury of the wind.
A gigantic splash of lightning ripped across the sky, momentarily opening their vision with a weird blue light. What they saw in that flash was scarcely comforting. The Mekong was narrowing as they approached a great gorge slashed through towering granite cliffs. The river was approaching the speed of a rapids. The boat motor, opened to its full power, was barely making headway against the surging water.
"We're not going to be able to go much farther!" Slate shouted to April. "We---"
He broke off as the searchlight picked up foaming water churning about giant boulders in the river. He threw over the rudder hard in a desperate effort to avoid a disastrous crash. The boat turned quickly, aided by the rushing fury of the river, but not quickly enough. The heavy rain had so weakened the light beam that Mark Slate had not seen the danger until it was too late.
The boat swung around, but a violent whirlpool caused by the huge rocks caught the stern. The shock knocked April half out of the cockpit. Slate was fighting the wheel. April pulled herself up and crawled slowly aft to inspect the damage.
The planks were badly shattered. They were shipping water fast.
She turned and shouted to Slate: "We're sinking!"
The wind caught her words and beat them down to a whisper he could not catch.
She started to crawl back toward him.
The boat lurched. The stern went under a foaming charge of water.
It splashed completely over April and hit Slate with a savage intensity that knocked him half out of the boat.
ELEVEN
CLIFF HANGER
The boat shuddered but the empty gas tank up front helped keep the bow in the air when the stern went down.
Coughing from swallowed water, April caught the small guard rail, pulled herself laboriously from the lashing foam. Mark Slate braced himself and extended a helping hand to her. April was having difficulty. She could only hang on with one hand. The other tightly clasped her waterproof purse. It was precious to her, holding as it did her remaining U.N.C.L.E. protective devices. Without them she and Slate would have only their bare hands against the jungle and the modern weapons of THRUSH and Project X.
"Hang on!" Slate shouted in her ear. "The currents are sweeping us toward the bank! We may make it yet!"
But he spoke too soon. Suddenly a light loomed out of the darkness, ghostly and waveringly indistinct in the deluge falling from the sky.
"It's our pursuers!" April Dancer gasped.
"Look out! Brace yourself!" Slate cried. "We're going to crash!"
The Khmerranians saw the danger at the last second. The wheelman tried to avoid the collision. The enemy boat half turned, but the furious river slammed the wreck into the port side of the Khmerranian craft. The wreck bounced back, bobbing so that both Slate and April were swept with water.
The wreckage swerved, rebounded off a huge rock and was thrown toward the river bank.
"This is as close as we're going to get!" Mark Slate shouted above the roar of the rushing water. "We've got to swim for it!"
Still grasping her purse, April plunged into the wild foam. She lost sight of Slate as she went bobbing like a cork downstream, fighting her way slowly to the rocky bank of the river.
It was pitch black. She could see nothing. She started to stumble her way upstream, seeking Mark Slate. The raindrops blended into a solid mass of water that poured from the wind chopped clouds.
Then her foot hit something. She stumbled and fell across it. A numbing jolt of fear shook her. It was a human body! She ran her hand over the face, but it had been so badly battered that she could not tell if it was Mark Slate.
Fearfully she dug in her purse, extracting a cigarette lighter. She turned it upside down and struck a flame from the bottom. Out of the wick burst a blue flame hot enough to cut steel. She shielded it from the rain with her body and inspected the corpse.
"April!"
It was Mark Slate's voice in her ear. "Put out that light! The Khmerranians are going to see it!"
"Mark!" she cried, stumbling to her feet. "The dead man! It is the Spanish member of Project X we saw inspecting our wreck. The way his face is torn it looks to me just like he had been hit by a THRUSH gun!"
"It figures!" Slate shouted back. "THRUSH is out to get the astronaut before the Khmerranians can deliver him to Project X. I wonder if this was done by Avis Avalee."
"I hope that sneak is with the THRUSH group!" April said darkly. "I have a score to settle with her!"
"Come on or we're going to get settled ourselves," Slate said.
Together they fought their way up the edge of the river. Vivid flashes of lightning revealed a stone stairs leading up toward the ruined Khmer fortification that gave the mountain its name.
"They must have gone this way for there seems nothing but sheer cliff in front," Slate said. "Up we go, April!"
They climbed as fast as the wind and rain would permit. The way was alternately lighted by brilliant lightning and blinded by pitch darkness. At the top they were partially protected from the wind by the walls of the ancient temple ruins. The temple itself was deserted except for a second corpse. This time it was a Khmerranian. Again there was evidence that the murder was done by a THRUSH gun.
Beyond the temple, and snaking up the mountain were three different trails. After hesitating, they took the center one. For a quarter of an hour they fought their way upward and then found the rugged path blocked by the debris of ages. Laboriously, exhausted, they retraced their steps.
Time was running out. Every second became more than precious now. The showdown had to come here in these granite cliffs rising above the storm-swept jungle. If their quarry escaped, it would be impossible to catch up with them again.
They held a quick conference and decided to split. April took the left trail and Slate went right.
Shortly the trail narrowed to a thin ledge curving around the sheer face of the towering cliff. At first it was relatively easy. The wind was blocked until April made a sharp curve. Then the full force of the storm hit her, slam
ming the hard-driven rain into the girl's face. April clawed at the cliff to keep from being swept off the canyon wall into the fiercely raging river below.
There were at least a hundred yards she had to cross before there was any further shelter from the wild wind.
But it was impossible to cross that typhoon swept area right then. April clung to the cracks in the rock and waited. The wind was gusty and she hoped for a momentary lull that would permit her to scurry across the open area.
But before that came she saw Mark Slate coming up behind her. A brilliant flash of lightning outlined him clearly---and even more vividly showed the sharp rocks reaching hungrily out of the furious water at least a hundred feet below.
Her companion came up close and shouted in her ear: "THRUSH is coming down the other trail. They took the wrong turn too. That means the astronaut is up this one. THRUSH is coming this way. We are bound to be caught between the two of them!"
April Dancer smiled grimly, "That is their misfortune!"
He grinned in spite of the gravity of their situation. "Okay," he said. " 'Lead on, MacDuff!' "
"There's a cleft ahead," she shouted back. "The wind is sweeping across the ledge with full fury. We've got to wait for a lull."
More lightning ripped the sky. The crash of the thunder was so great even the rocks seemed to shiver.
In the weird light April saw the Khmerranians across the open space. There seemed to be six of them. Looking more intently, she was thrilled to identify a bound man with them, wearing a silvered pressure suit without a helmet.
The group with their prisoner had stopped at the other side of the wind swept area for the same reason that halted April and Slate.
"Look out, Mark!" April Dancer shouted. "They've seen us!"
She watched the leader jerk up his gun. She could not hear the report in the crash of the storm, but she knew he was shooting at them.
There was another vivid burst of lightning. Mark Slate suddenly fired at a rain-sogged figure coming from behind them.
April had only a momentary glimpse, but she recognized Avis Avalee. With the girl from THRUSH were three men April did not recognize.
The Stolen Spaceman Affair Page 10