The Volacano Box Affair

by Robert Hart Davis

  Illya held silence for a moment, then asked, "What makes you think he attached the transmitter to the car?"

  She pursued her lips as if struck by a revelation. "I don't know—I just assumed—"

  "Let's assume that's an illogical assumption," Illya said, "and go on from there. We tag cars only when we can't tag people. The reason is obvious. Cars can be abandoned permanently or for long periods of time. So we try to hook our tracers onto individuals. How close are you to the car?"

  "A few blocks away."

  "Follow the beeps and see if they lead to the car."

  April did as Kuryakin suggested, and when she got to the car, where she'd left Don in attendance, she signaled Illya. "I'm ashamed to say it—"

  "We don't have time to be ashamed. Follow the signal as far as is safe, then buzz me again when you've located the source. Is that Don still with you?"

  "He's looking at me now as if I'm a madwoman."

  "Get rid of him immediately."

  Don Wirts' mouth was wide open.

  "You're a policewoman!" he gasped. "You're a spy, I'll bet. That's why—"

  "I've no time to explain," April Dancer said, "but if you want to do your country a service, continue to watch this car and I'll contact you as soon as I can. If you see anyone get into it, remember what he looks like and follow him. But keep out of trouble."

  "Gosh!" he exclaimed, and then added, as April fled down an alley way, "I hope she's on the good side."

  Like a bloodhound baying after a strong scent, April followed the twists of Singapore's streets according to the strengths and weaknesses of the signal on her receiver. The beeping grew louder as she approached what seemed to be a complex of city administration buildings, and when she entered a small plaza the intensity of the beeps confirmed that she'd closed in on her quarry. Even if she'd had no receiver, the presence of two sinister Chinese outside a two-story, white-brick edifice would have told her she'd found what she was looking for. April communicated her location to Illya.

  "Does it look assailable?" he asked.

  "There's a steel fence with spikes around the building, two guards in front. No fire escape visible, but I'll go around the back for a look."

  "Proceed on your own. I'll await your signal. If I don't hear from you in two hours I'm going to join the party."

  She backed out of the alley that led onto the plaza and decided to approach the hideout from another direction. She walked around what she hoped was the perimeter of the plaza, and then headed back in on a narrow street on which small crowds of peasants were engaged in bargaining over fish and vegetables.

  Night had settled over the city, and to the south one could see the neon glare of the downtown section. But this area was relatively dim, and the scene was made even more macabre by the whitish glare of gas lamps under which the peasants' wares were displayed.

  When April emerged on the plaza she realized she was in a better position to approach the house unseen. A tree towered over the fence, and though it was some thing of a shinny to get to the lowest branch, she fancied she could do it. She put a dark shawl over her ash-blonde hair and strolled casually past the tree.

  As soon as April Dancer was under the branch she leaped up and caught the limb with one hand. Her other hand swiped at it but missed, and she dangled helplessly for a moment. Then her loose hand closed around the bark of the trunk and she lifted herself by dint of her fingernails alone.

  Her right arm was stretched to its limit, but now with the boost of her other hand she managed to get some leverage. April's calves and knees and heels pushed downward until she was reasonably certain a second swipe with her left hand would not be unsuccessful. In one motion she let go of the trunk and grabbed for the limb.

  She felt the satisfying thump of the limb in her palm, then pulled with all her might until her torso had cleared the branch. Then April collapsed on it and hung there to catch her breath, looking like a rug placed over a clothesline to be beaten.

  As soon as she was able to clear a deep breath, she dropped into the backyard of the house. There was a flagstone patio connected to the house by means of a kind of thatched walk. Stealthily she approached the door at the end of the walk. It was a French door with brass handles, and heavy shades in front of the glass made it impossible for her to see inside.

  She tested the knobs, but the door was locked. To an agent teethed on the art of burglary, a locked door presented no problem, and reference to a tool kit skillfully concealed around her waist produced the antidote readily enough.

  April Dancer pushed the door open slowly, but as soon as she'd ascertained she was entering a dark room she plunged inside and shut the door behind her. After a few seconds she could ascertain the outlines of a laboratory. She tiptoed to the door on the other side of the room, peeked out, and saw two armed guards outside a door.

  From behind that door April could make out the unmistakable voice of Napoleon Solo. At length it opened and he was led out down a corridor, and, from what her ears could tell her, down a stairway.

  She waited a few minutes and was about to decide on her next move when an acquired sense told her she was making a mistake The entry into the house had been too easy. It just didn't make sense that an operation of cataclysmic magnitude would be so shoddily protected.

  April tiptoed back to the French doors and peered out. Her heart thumped violently as she saw that her suspicions were correct. There was a veritable cordon of white-clad orientals around the house.

  She reasoned that the room from which Napoleon Solo had been led away was an interrogation room and possibly the office where a key THRUSH agent—possibly even Kae Soong himself—was ensconced. If so there was only one possible way of getting out of this place with Napoleon. She'd have to take a high-ranking hostage.

  The move was daring. Its beauty was in its very audacity. The interrogation room was guarded by two big men with sub-machineguns, and heavens knew how many men were behind the door. She would have to rely on the element of surprise.

  April Dancer fitted a silencer over a .32 pistol, and in her left hand she clutched a teargas capsule of the kind just issued by U.N.C.L.E.—instant and potent.

  She flung open the door and squeezed off two shots in one deadly fluid motion. The two guards scarcely lifted their guns before her bullets slammed into their vitals. Even as they were crumpling to the floor April was charging across the corridor and bursting through the door they guarded.

  Kae Soong was sitting behind his desk, and behind him stood a minor assistant in the process of unfurling a chart. As she charged into the room Kae's hand darted automatically for an automatic on his desk, but April's gun was blazing and kicked up a hail of splinters that made him pull back in fright. He turned to his assistant, but this diminutive Malaccan was already reeling from a bullet in the chest.

  Kae Soong glared at her. "You are mad!"

  "Never mind the formalities. Take me immediately to my friend or I'll drop you right now."

  "This is a futile gesture," he sighed, edging from behind his desk. "We've admitted you intentionally, but the doors have shut firmly behind you. You cannot escape. Do with me what you like."

  As she stepped over the bodies of the guards in the hail she said, "They need you, Kae Soong, and without you this operation is going to fall on its face."

  "I'm afraid nothing could be further from the truth. You people never comprehend how lightly we weigh an individual life against the survival of the organization. Nothing would be impaired, nothing delayed by my removal."

  "Then suppose I remove you right now," April said, thrusting the snout of her gun's silencer in his spine.

  "You're welcome to do so, but I don't think you will, since I am your passport."

  They passed through the door to the stairwell, where she'd seen them take Napoleon.

  The stairs curved away to the left, and she cautiously made her way down with her hostage in front of her.

  At the foot of the stairs was a corridor with fou
r doors of heavy steel facing on it. At the end of it was a guard, and April could assume that just inside this doorway there would be another. A beam of light across it told her an electric eye would set off an alarm as soon as she crossed it.

  She poked Kae Soong and pointed at the beam.

  As he called out to the guard nearest them to turn off the beam she quickly reloaded her gun and removed from her kit four sodium vapor explosive charges. The guard acknowledged Kae Soong's order and the beam went out. April shoved her captive forward and as soon as he was clear she squeezed a bullet into the near guard, then into the one at the far end of the corridor.

  As the latter spun around from the impact he fell across a beam at that station and an alarm bell sent strident signals throughout the building.

  "Which one?" she demanded of Kae Soong, pointing to the four doors of the cells. The THRUSH agent looked at her stonily. "All right, we'll do it this way." She slapped a charge on the lock of each door, then triggered an ignition mechanism.

  A few seconds later the corridor was rocked by four blasts like the sound of a wrecker's ball failing on the beam of a ship. The metal doors were blown off their hinges and hung from their frames at bizarre angles. For a moment no one emerged from any of them. April Dancer peered into the first two, which were empty.

  Then Napoleon Solo, shaking his head, staggered out of the third.

  In a glance he realized what had happened and rushed back into his cell to get Dacian. April, meanwhile, went to the fourth cell but it too was empty.

  The corridor was filled with acrid smoke and the alarm bell made an intimidating din. Kae Soong stood passively, doing all he could to resist his captor without risking his murder and waiting for a chance to outsmart them. Napoleon came out of his cell bearing Dacian in a fireman's carry.

  April Dancer pressed into Napoleon's free hand another vapor bomb and a teargas capsule and, shoving the reluctant Kae Soong ahead of them, went back up the stairs. But they were halfway up when the door at the top opened and they were confronted by an arsenal of machineguns. The tapping of footsteps behind them meant that Kae's goons had come down the other stairwell and would soon be behind them.

  Napoleon Solo threw his teargas capsule down at the foot of the stairs and it burst into foul-smelling fumes. April shoved her gun deep into Kae's back and ordered him to tell his men to clear a path or she would shoot him at once.

  Kae Soon called out, but his command brought forth an explosion of gas that felt as if a rod had been shoved into their brains.

  April saw Napoleon's knees buckle, and realized that Kae had ordered his men to gas them all, including himself, but before she could pull the trigger the sickly sweet odor carried her off into a world of nightmares.

  ACT VII

  LAST ANSWER

  WHEN WAVERLY told Illya Kuryakin to forget about Napoleon, the agent's throat constricted as if' he was going to cry. "But, sir—"

  "Mr. Kuryakin, I'm quite well aware of his value to this organization, but like any other member he is expendable if circumstances call for his sacrifice. The reason I enjoined you from teaming up is that I cannot afford to lose both of you.

  "It would be a pity if we have lost him and Miss Dancer, but it would be calamitous if we tossed you into the bargain too. You must leave them to fight their way out of imprisonment alone. But I want you free to act on an instant's notice in a matter infinitely larger. I expect news from our satellite momentarily. So please stand by and do nothing about Mr. Solo or Miss Dancer. That is an order."

  Illya Kuryakin collapsed into an armchair. It was almost dawn and he'd been awaiting a signal from Napoleon or April for three hours.

  This perhaps was the ugliest aspect of the work he had to do. In U.N.C.L.E.'s struggle against those who would diminish the value of human life, it was sometimes overlooked that an U.N.C.L.E. agent had to hold life cheap indeed in order to protect the interests of order. What value was law and world tranquility if those defending it had to stand by helplessly as their closest friends were thrown without compunction into the breach?

  He was desperately tired, and took advantage of his momentary inactivity to close his eyes and catch some sleep. It seemed as if only a few moments had gone by when the strong sunlight of morning and an insistent signal from his communicator awakened him. He was also conscious of the sounds of shouting and running outside. He switched on his communicator, as he spoke into it, he sidled to the window to see what the commotion was about.

  The scene was one of incredible confusion. People were scurrying in every direction, screaming and shouting and shoving each other down.

  The voice on his communicator was that of Alexander Waverly. "Our satellite has picked up an infrared disturbance on the island of Singapore. This is it, Mr. Kuryakin."

  "Evidently the populace knows something's going on. There's a riot here."

  "The Boruvian Federation has issued a twenty-four hour ultimatum. Singapore must join or it will be little more than a pool of lava."

  "Have you pinpointed the volcano box?"

  "Yes. It's located on a high point at the center, a hill called Bukit Timah. I'll give you the coordinates now."

  Waverly read a precise set of longitudinal and latitudinal figures, then added, "The best way to reach it promptly is by helicopter to the north. There's a plateau about half mile away from the summit. The rest must be covered by foot. If you get any closer by helicopter you risk being shot down—if there's anyone there to shoot at you."

  "Do you think they've just left the device there and abandoned it?"

  "It could be. They don't know we have a way of detecting their device, so they may feel they can switch it on and leave it unattended without fear of discovery until it's too late. On the other hand, if they've issued an ultimatum they must reason that a capitulation by Singapore will make destruction of the island unnecessary.

  "So, unless they can shut their device off by remote control, they may remain behind to stop its operation manually. That makes more sense anyway, because if Singapore does capitulate, THRUSH will want to dismantle the device and remove it. So I think you can expect a welcoming committee. Arm yourself accordingly."

  "Yes, sir."

  "One last point. We still don't know if THRUSH has the formula for the reflecting elements or not, so it is still in our interest to capture someone who can tell us. Therefore you must not destroy the volcano box site wholesale if there are important personnel there. In brief, you've got to stop the device from going off, but at the same time learn if the formula has fallen into their hands."

  Illya Kuryakin shook his head at the incredibly delicate maneuvering he'd have to do to accomplish both goals, and accomplish them alone, and accomplish them within less than twenty-four hours. "Will do," he said, concealing his lack of conviction from his superior officer.

  TWO

  AS CLOSELY AS he could figure, Napoleon Solo awoke from his gas-induced sleep about four hours after his attempt to break out of the prison beneath the laboratory. The sun was thirty degrees up into the eastern sky, from what he could gather looking out of the slit in a wildly bouncing panel truck. Beside him, jammed awkwardly into a corner on her stomach, was April Dancer, her hair tousled. At his feet was the half-broken body of Edward Dacian.

  The truck was progressing uphill over unpaved land, and sometimes soared so high over a bump that the three bodies hung suspended for a moment before striking the metal floor. The ride lasted another half hour. Then the truck stopped and the rear doors were opened. Two guards menaced them with sub-machineguns while two more entered and dragged them out, testing the stiff cord that bound their hands behind their backs.

  As the guards set them on their feet they observed their surroundings. They were about fifty yards below the summit of a high hill from which rose, as if out of a chimney, a geyser of steam. The steam was discolored grey, but from time to time as they gazed at it, it would bear up in its midst some vividly colored cloud of vapor, like a metal being subject
ed to the flame of a Bunsen burner. The odor was sulfurous, the sound at once a humming, a hissing, and a roaring that grew louder even as they stood still.

  The guards appeared somewhat awed and frightened, but they prodded Napoleon Solo and April Dancer upwards, while a third helped Dacian.

  After a few moments they had made their way through the scrub at the top of the hill, and saw the volcano box site. At the center of course was the scaffolding and box, but these were almost entirely obscured by steam and smoke. Near them, a couple of helicopters stood with rotors whirling, fanning the steam into hideously lovely patterns. Opposite, a couple of rough huts contained what Napoleon surmised were electrical generating equipment and monitoring systems.

  And directly in front of them was the smiling face of Kae Soong.

  "My colleagues revived me early so that I could be present at the start of the performance. But you will have the envious distinction of being present at the end of it, while I will be far away. Place them there," he instructed a guard, pointing at the huts.

  The guard led Dacian and the two U.N.C.L.E. agents, and made them stand in front of one from which came the throaty sound of a generator. Cables led from it to the steam-shrouded scaffolding. Kae Soong issued some commands, then entered the other hut, which was presumably where the monitors were housed.

  When be came out he said, "Another half day and this island will be no more. And after that, who knows? We are so excited with our toy, we don't know what to do with it first."

  The wind shifted momentarily and they were drenched in pungent mist. When the breeze abated, Kae Soong was gone and could be seen walking towards one of his engineers. Then Napoleon Solo felt a rough hand on his shoulder. A guard was ordering them to sit against an outcropping of rock near the generator hut. They did so, and the guard took a stance against a tree, watching them intensely and muscles tensed as if eager for an excuse to cut them down.

  Napoleon sat between April and Dr. Dacian. He murmured to April, hoping the guard wouldn't make out what he was saying in the hiss and roar of the volcano box.