“That will be my pleasure,” Solo said.
Lilli smiled. “Good. It is settled then. I will lead you to the safe in Burton’s secret stronghold. The rest is up to you.”
“When?” Illya asked.
“Tonight, I think,” Lilli Kessler said. She took out a long Russian cigarette, leaned forward to Solo. “You may light me now, Napoleon dear.
Two
Napoleon Solo lurked inside the darkened doorway across the old street from the dark and silent old mansion-town house in the upper east seventies. The old town house showed no light, no movement inside, no signs of life at all. An empty and innocent old building. But it was neither innocent nor empty. It was the secret stronghold of Manfred Burton.
Inside, Lilli Kessler was at work, and Solo was waiting for the signal.
Solo bent down over his radio-pencil. “Bubba, this is Sonny. Come in Bubba.”
The pencil spoke in the cool accents of Illya Kuryakin. “Bubba here. Burton is at the table. I see most of his men. And how is it there?”
Solo smiled as he pictured Illya again in the waiter’s disguise at the Café Leider. That was the plan: Illya to watch Burton and his men: Solo to wait to be let into the stronghold: Lilli Kessler to open an entrance from the inside, lead him to the vault where Burton kept all that was valuable. The key to the plan was time.
Lilli had explained that it was her well-known habit to relax alone in her dressing room for precisely a half hour before her first appearance. Alone and undisturbed---she had established this in order to have time for her most secret reports to Interpol in the rare cases when she made contact.
Since Burton knew this habit, he would not miss her for that half an hour, and her maid, Helga, was one hundred percent reliable. So Solo and Lilli had one half hour to secure the films of the plans, and to get Lilli back for her first appearance. Meanwhile, Illya watched Burton and his men in the café just in case. Now, Solo leaned over his pencil-radio.
“All okay here. The house is quiet. How does Burton look?”
“Confident,” Illya reported tersely. “Time is flying, though.”
“I know,” Solo said, one eye on the house. Then he saw the faint signal, a brief flash of red light from a second floor window. “There she is. I’m going in.”
“Be careful, Napoleon,” Illya said from the café.
“Just watch Burton, my friend,” Solo said. “Over and out.”
He clicked off the pencil-radio and put the pencil into his breast pocket. He checked his U.N.C.L.E. Special, his tiny smoke bombs, his knife, and the various escape equipment concealed in his clothes. Then he left the doorway and moved as silent as a cat across the street. There would be guards, but he was out of the line of vision from the house where he crossed the street.
Solo moved in the shadow of the buildings until he reached the old mansion. The windows on the first floor were all heavily shuttered with steel shutters. On the second floor the windows were covered with wooden shutters, but one set of shutters was now open a crack. It was the window from which the signal had come. Solo studied the façade of the building.
A drainpipe led up to the roof. It was some ten feet from the window, but a narrow ledge ran around the entire second floor beneath the windows. Solo carefully checked the street and the silent house, then moved quickly to the drainpipe and swarmed up to the second floor.
The ledge was only three inches wide. Carefully, he moved out on his toes on the ledge. He clung to the window shutters with his fingers. Between the windows there was a recess in the brick wall about head high. He clung to this and inched toward the second window. As he reached it, the shutter opened quickly outward. Solo slid inside, Lilli Kessler stood there with her finger on her lips. Solo nodded.
He watched her close the window. Then she motioned for him to follow her. He saw that they were in a bedroom. She led him across the room and out into a dim hallway. They moved along the hallway until they came to a small door. She went through the door and Solo followed. Far away somewhere he heard voices---two men talking and laughing somewhere below on the first floor.
He found that they stood in a small room filled with brooms and pails and cleaning equipment.
“This room is not wired. There are two guards downstairs. They don’t remain too alert, since they rely on the shutters and the alarm system,” Lilli said.
“Alarm system?” Solo said.
“I turned it off,” Lilli said. “One of the advantages of being a trusted ‘friend.’ I learned the location of the alarm. I shall have to turn it back on immediately.”
Solo nodded. “Then what?”
“The vault room. It is wired on a special internal alarm. You have the equipment to handle that?”
“I hope so,” Solo said. “Only two guards?”
“They don’t need more, Napoleon. Without inside help you could not have entered at all.”
“Where is the vault room?”
“Behind a secret panel on the third floor. I can operate the panel, but the vault door has the alarm,” Lilli said.
“All right. Go and reset the outside alarm in case they check; then take me to the vault,” Solo said.
Solo waited in the small room full of cleaning equipment. He held his U.N.C.L.E. Special. Not that he did not trust Lilli, but he was a sitting duck in the small room if she wanted to betray him. Moments later she returned. She nodded, and motioned Solo to follow her.
They went along the dim upstairs hallway and up the stairs to the third floor. Lilli led him silently along the hall of the third floor to a door in the interior of the old house. They entered and were in a kind of office. File cabinets lined the walls. There were two desks. Lilli walked to one of the file cabinets and reached behind it. Almost instantly the cabinet swung out, a panel slid up the wall. Lilli stepped back. Solo walked close and studied the steel door facing him.
It was a strong vault, but not an unusual type. It opened by straight double combination without the need of a key. Solo studies the door itself and the frame. The alarm worked, he was sure, by a broken circuit system when the door was moved from the frame. Solo began to take some equipment from his pockets.
“It shouldn’t be too hard if they only have the one alarm,” Solo said.
“I’m sure of that. I’ve had a long time to study it.” Lilli said. “You can open it?”
“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Solo said.
He stood close to the door and went to work. First, he attached a small battery-operated electronic device to the vault door frame. He activated the device.
“For the alarm?” Lilli said.
“It just may keep the circuit closed after the door is open,” Solo said.
Then he took out another small electronic device attached it to the combination dial. Leaning close with his ear, he began to turn the dial. After a moment the electronic device gave a beep. Solo stopped, rubbed his fingers, and continued to turn the dial. For a time in the room there was no sound but Solo’s breathing, the dial turning, and the faint beeps from the small device. After the eighth beep. Solo stepped back.
He smiled at Lilli. “Well, let’s see if the alarm is taken care of.”
He spun the lock wheel, and pulled.
The massive door came open.
Solo and Lilli held their breath.
Nothing happened. No alarms went. Solo smiled at the petite blonde, who smiled weakly in return and sat down at a desk, her hands shaking. Solo stepped into the vault. Lilli shook herself. She stood and joined Solo. The agent searched all the small metal drawers. At last he turned with a tiny spool of microfilm in his hands. Lilli took it eagerly and went to the desk.
At the desk she switched on a light and held the tiny strip of film in front of it. She nodded.
“This is it. It’s in some kind of code, of course, but I recognize it,” Lilli said.
Solo turned and closed the vault. He locked it, removed his two electronic devices, and joined Lilli at the desk. She handed him t
he film.
“You keep it, Napoleon. It scares me to even hold it.”
Solo took the film---and froze.
The sound came from the door into the room. Solo slowly turned. Lilli covered her mouth with her hand as she stared. Three people stood in the doorway. Two men with the special rifles of THRUSH in their hands, the ugly infra-red scope bulging on top of the rifles. The third was a woman, a beautiful woman with violet eyes who stood almost six feet tall and had her curves in all the right places. The woman also held a gun---an ugly Luger type pistol. She smiled.
“I’ll take that film, Napoleon,” she said.
“Hello, Maxine,” Solo said.
“The film, Napoleon,” Maxine Trent said. “Thanks for getting it. U.N.C.L.E. has its uses after all.”
Solo sighed and handed the tiny roll of film to the lovely THRUSH agent. Maxine smiled at Solo and Lilli Kessler.
Three
Illya finished serving the wine to the second table of his station, and returned to his spot against the wall. He looked at his watch. More than half an hour had passed. Lilli Kessler had not appeared. Illya bent over his pencil-radio.
“Sonny, this is Bubba. Come in, Sonny. Bubba calling Sonny, come in, Sonny!”
There was no response.
Illya looked toward, where Manfred Burton sat at his special table. The heavy-set THRUSH leader was twirling his glass in his hands and looking into the wings of the stage. The patrons of the café were beginning to grow restless. A few were questioning the other waiters. Illya bent again over his pencil-radio.
“Mayday! Mayday! Come in, Sonny! Bubba calling Sonny!”
The receiver was silent.
Illya looked at his watch. Over forty-five minutes had passed now. The people in the Café Leider were buzzing with annoyance. The maitre was on the telephone, obviously calling backstage. Manfred Burton looked at his watch. The burly man was not a THRUSH leader for nothing. Almost instantly, Burton jumped to the right conclusion---that Lilli’s absence had some danger for him.
Burton stood abruptly and motioned to his men. They all headed fast for the door. Illya abandoned his post and went quickly out the side way and ran up the alley to the street. He reached the small side street as soon as Burton and his men did. The burly THRUSH chief led the dash for his car. Illya did not wait to follow. He knew where they were going.
Illya jumped into his car and drove as fast as possible straight to the old town house Lilli Kessler had identified as Burton’s stronghold. He got there moments before Burton. The house was dark and silent. Illya Kuryakin dashed inside.
The outer door was open. Behind him he heard Burton’s car screech to a halt. Inside, Illya saw the two sprawled guards, and heard the silence. He knew at once that someone else had raided Burton’s house this night, and that that someone probably had Solo and the petite blonde chanteuse.
Illya had no time to see or think anything else. Burton and his men pounded up the stairs and into the house. Illya had just enough time to hide in a closet. He left the door open a crack. He watched the THRUSH men bend over the forms of their comrades. He saw Burton curse and dash up the stairs toward the upper floors. Illya took out his pencil-radio. He spoke very softly.
“Control Central, Waverly direct. Come in, Mr. Waverly.”
The pencil intoned softly, “Yes Mr. Kuryakin?”
“I am inside Burton’s house. It has been raided. No sign of Solo or the Kessler woman. Burton is extremely agitated.”
“Do you have any idea just who the raiders were?” Waverly’s calm voice said quietly.
“No, but I can guess,” Illya whispered. There was a silence. “Yes, Walter Hand, probably. This is most serious, Mr. Kuryakin. The Kessler woman was the best lead we’ve had in this matter.”
“Not to mention Napoleon,” Illya said softly.
Waverly’s voice was curt. “Mr. Solo knows the risks. But it seems to me that the plans are lost to us. That is most unfortunate, Mr. Kuryakin. I---“
“Just a moment, sir,” Illya snapped.
He saw Burton coming back down the stairs. The heavy-set THRUSH chief was in a wild fury. He waved his thick arms and cursed the two men who were just reviving. They appeared to be explaining something. Burton became even angrier. Illya bent over his radio.
It looks like whoever raided did get Napoleon and Lilli Kessler, and the film. Burton is in a rage. I think he is getting ready to go somewhere.”
Waverly’s voice was as urgent as it ever got. “You must not lose him, Mr. Kuryakin. Those plans are vital. We still want to try to destroy the effectiveness of THRUSH in North America. The Kessler woman’s information is most important.”
Illya watched the THRUSH men milling around outside. He could see most of the room through the crack in the door. Their voices had risen, especially Burton’s voice. And Illya clearly hears the name…Hand!
“Do you have any ideas, sir?” Illya whispered.
“You’ll think of some way, Mr. Kuryakin.”
“Yes sir,” Illya said drily. There was action out in the room. “I better sign off.”
“Very well, Mr. Kuryakin, but get that film and protect that woman.”
The receiver went dead. Illya clicked off. He watched through the crack he had left open. The THRUSH men were plainly getting ready to move. But how was he to follow them? As if in answer to his unspoken question, Manfred Burton turned to one of his men. Illya opened the door a little farther to hear.
“We’ll need more men for this. Are the new recruits ready up at Kinston Camp?”
“Some of them. Sir,” the assistant said.
“Get them down here fast. Have them flown down to meet us at the airport. We’ll take the private jet. He won’t get away with this! I’ll have his heart on a plate for raiding me!
Illya waited until they had gone. Then he bent over his pencil-radio again.
“Central control, this is Bubba. Come in central control, transport section. Urgent!”
A cool female voice answered. “Transport section. You have a transport request, Agent Kuryakin?”
“A helicopter to East Seventy-Sixth Street, near the Park. I’ll be on the roof. They will see me. Also, bring a THRUSH uniform, private soldier.”
“Uniform and helicopter. Over and out,” the crisp female dispatcher said.
Illya left his closet and ran up the stairs. He did not stop to look at the room with the open vault. It was imperative that he reach the airport before Burton or the recruits.
On the roof he waited. A few minutes later the helicopter came down and hovered. Illya climbed into the hoisting rig and was raised. The instant Illya was inside and instructed the pilot where to go, the helicopter flew off. Illya struggled into the THRUSH black uniform.
“Land me near the private jet of Burton’s. You know it?”
“I know it,” the pilot said.
Less than a half an hour later Illya stood alone in his THRUSH uniform near the jet. He melted into the shadows under the giant plane. All was silent. He waited alone for two hours. The he saw the private DC-3 touch down. He watched the young men get out, and saw what he had hoped for---the new recruits all looked at each other with curiosity! Which meant, as he had expected from his knowledge of THRUSH training, that the recruits did not know each other well!
The recruits were marched to the jet and ordered to wait. The leader walked off to report to Burton somewhere. When the leader was out of sight, Illya sneaked into the jet and came out of it, making sure they saw where he came from. He averted his face in the night and beckoned to one recruit.
“You!”
The recruits looked at each other. The one Illya pointed to paled. Like all recruits, they were accustomed to being ordered constantly by everyone.
Yes, you!”
The recruit gulped. “Me, sir?”
“Over here, quick!”
The recruit jumped up and marched to Illya. The others watched. Illya snapped at the recruit.
“Come with me. Yo
u’re on a special assignment.”
“But---“ the recruit stammered.
“A man will take your place,” Illya said loud enough for them all to hear.
He marched the recruit off into the night. When they were out of sight, he quietly knocked the man out, radioed U.N.C.L.E. security, Section-IV, and told them to come pick the man up. He injected him with a sleep-dart to keep him out for a few hours. Then he took his recruit papers, and returned to the group. He did not join them at once, but waited until the leader came back with Burton and his regular men. The recruits snapped to attention; no one noticed Illya slip in.
Moments later, the recruits filed on board the jet with the regular men. Burton was in his private compartment. The jet took off with Illya sitting in the middle of the recruits and learning that they were going to take care of Walter Hand!
Four
Napoleon Solo paced slowly around the small cell. Lilli Kessler sat against the metal wall. Solo studied the walls and the single door. They were all solid steel, and behind them was the rock of the mountain.
“Do you know where we are, Napoleon?” Lilli asked.
“I have a pretty fair idea,” Solo said. “From the direction, and the time, of that little jet ride we took with my friend Maxine, I’d say we were somewhere in Colorado. Which means in Walter Hand’s headquarters.”
“In the hands of Hand, yes?” Lilli said.
Solo smiled. “You have your sense of humor intact.”
The petite blonde shrugged.”I am not a girl. I have seen much---the Nazis, the Russians, all of them. You learn to have a sense of humor.”
Solo was only half listening as he studied the steel walls. “I suppose you do,” he said abstractedly. ”From the way we came in, the sounds, I’d say this is an old mine. We’re in one of the shafts, all redone onto a cozy headquarters and prison.”
“Which means we are lost, no?”
“No,” Solo said. “But it means we could be if we don’t move pretty damned fast.”
“Move? Out of a steel cell inside a mine?”
“Did you tell Maxine who you were?
“Of course,” Lilli said. “She laughed. Why not? I am a friend of Burton, not Hand, and they have the film. They have the film and both of us. It will be quite a coup for Walter Hand.”
The Thrush from Thrush Affair Page 4