The Invisibility Affair - Stratton Thomas - Страница 17
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"No," Napoleon agreed. "I don't think it will be that easy. If they could be removed simply by breaking a window, they wouldn't be there. Those windows undoubtedly aren't all they seem, they do marvelous things with plastics these days. Any such obvious escape route would also be thoroughly booby-trapped. I think I have an idea, however." He pawed through the contents of his briefcase, coming up with a coil of what looked like modeling clay. "We seem to have been well supplied by Chicago with plastic explosive."
"Provided it really is explosive and not some new device that no one has seen fit to inform us about," Illya commented gloomily.
* * *
After one of the Milwaukee agents had tested a small piece of the coil several blocks away and pronounced it explosive, Napoleon began deploying his forces. Brattner and one of his men were stationed in front of the door in the hall which led to the apartment in which the prisoners were confined. Two other agents were assigned to the other on that side of the hall, which presumably led to Forbes' private quarters. One man was left outside the building with orders to halt any attempted evacuation by Thrush forces. Napoleon, carrying the coil of explosive, and Illya, carrying the bulkier coil of a rope ladder, climbed the stairway and knocked at the door of the apartment directly over the one holding the prisoners.
"I rather hope no one is at home," Illya murmured. "It will simplify matters considerably."
Footsteps from behind the door denied this possibility. The door opened and a slender, middle-aged woman stood looking questioningly at them. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" she asked staring at Illya's rope ladder.
Both agents pulled out their identification cards and showed them to her. "As you can see," Napoleon said in his suavest manner, "we are special agents for U.N.C.L.E. and we will need the use of your apartment for a few minutes."
"Yes," Illya agreed before she had a chance to answer. "This is a very important case; kidnapping, you know." Without waiting for an answer, they stepped inside, crossed the living room and pushed open the door to the room directly above the room where Kerry and Dr. Morthley were.
"This is the room we'll need," Napoleon informed the woman.
"That's our bedroom!" she protested, but the agents pushed their way in, calmly but
forcefully.
"It's all right," Napoleon said. "We'll be through in just a few minutes." To Illya he suggested, "You'd better listen in a minute and make sure this the right room."
Illya removed his listening device and pressed it against the floor. Moving from spot to spot under the wide-eyed gaze of the apartment's rightful tenant, he finally nodded,
"They're over here, in the corner."
"Good," Napoleon replied. "That gives up plenty of room to work in. Help me get the bed out of the way."
"Now, wait a minute!" the woman exploded. "What's going on here, anyway?"
"It's quite all right," Napoleon assured her. "By the way, you said your name was...?"
"Beck," the woman replied. "I'm Mrs.—now stop that! What are you nuts doing to my clean floor? I just waxed that!?
Having shoved the bed to one side, Napoleon was engaged in laying down a ring of plastic explosive. Pinching off the end, he patted it lovingly into place and capped it with a tiny detonator.
The woman laughed suddenly. "Oh, I get it! It's all a joke, isn't it?" She looked around suspiciously and her eyes fell on the rope ladder, still coiled tightly under Illya's arm. "There's a TV camera in there!" She was trying to wave into the rope ladder when the two agents took her firmly by the arms and escorted her through the door into the other room.
"Just stay out here for a second, Mrs. Beck," Napoleon told her as Illya closed the door firmly. He saw Illya nod, and squeezed down on the disc in his hand. There was a muffled roar from the other room. Napoleon opened the door, revealing a neat circular hole in the floor. Mrs. Beck gasped as Napoleon sprang across the room, grasped the edge of the hole with both hands, and lowered himself through it.
Illya slipped one end of the rope ladder over a jointed iron bar which he produced from somewhere on his person and extended to full length. As he worked, he tried to reassure Mrs. Beck. "These new plastic explosives are really very good. Same effect as a shaped charge; you'll note we got the required hole without even ruffling your bedspread. We'll have one of our U.N.C.L.E. insurance adjusters around in the morning to settle for damages." He dropped the bar across the hole, let the rope ladder uncoil down into the room below, and dropped through the opening.
Mrs. Beck sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the hole in her nice clean floor. "What does it all mean?" she whispered.
Napoleon landed on the edge of a twin bed, teetered for a moment and sprang to the floor. Kerry was trying to brush plaster out of her hair while crouching in a corner of the room, while an elderly man stood watching him open-mouthed. As Illya in turn landed on the bed and bounced to the floor, there were sounds of muffled shots as Brattner and his men assaulted the outer doors of the apartment.
"Quick!" shouted Napoleon. "Get up the ladder!"
Kerry and Dr. Morthley stared at him for a moment, then began climbing on the bed over which the rope ladder was dangling. At that moment a stinging white gas erupted from the baseboard, like a sprinkler system in reverse. Napoleon held his breath and tried to make his watering eyes focus on the door to the next room. He couldn't locate it. From the sounds behind him, Illya was helping the prisoners up the ladder. He fired twice in the general direction of the door; then suddenly the gigantic form of Andy loomed over him and he received a blow on the wrist that sent his gun spinning away from him. He swung left- handed, but Andy took the blow on his shoulder and plunged by him and he was suddenly facing a gun held by a man with a gold earring. A shot sounded from behind him, and the Thrush agent winced and disappeared into the clouds of gas. A blow from behind knocked him sprawling. He gasped to recover his breath, and received what felt like a lungful of white fire. Staggering to his feet, he tried to locate one of the doors to the room, and suddenly Brattner and another agent were there, helping him into the hallway. He leaned against the wall for a moment, sucking in clean air.
Figures appeared on the stairway, and Illya and Kerry ran to join the group. "Dr. Morthley?" Illya asked.
Brattner shook his head. "Morthley and every Thrush in there disappeared into that concentrated smog. The Thrushes were wearing some sort of nose filters; did you notice them?"
One of Brattner's agents came through the outside door of the building. "George is out cold at the side of the building. They must have got out somehow, and got away."
Chapter 7
"Does This Look Like an OTSMID to You?"
Napoleon's eyes and lungs were slowly clearing. He looked at Illya and Kerry and smiled weakly. "We were partly successful, anyway."
Illya nodded. "I had Kerry started up the ladder when the gas hit. Morthley had fallen down; I was trying to get him to the ladder when the big one—Andy?—showed up out of somewhere and grabbed him. I couldn't see well enough in that fog to shoot him; to likely to hit Dr. Morthley or you, Napoleon. I did wing one of their other men, though; man with a gold earring."
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