The Mind-­Twisters Affair - Stratton Thomas (книга читать онлайн бесплатно без регистрации TXT) 📗

Napoleon stood staring after the departing sedan for a second, then returned his gun to its shoulder bolster, and turned to Illya. "What happened?" be asked.

"He told us to get into his ear," Illya said, in a tone implying that this was a perfectly reasonable request. Not having been addressed, Armden stood quietly, his face blank of expression.

Napoleon looked at them, frowning. They looked straight ahead, at nothing in particular.

"Both of you, raise your right hands," Napoleon said sharply.

Illya and Armden raised their bands, without speaking or changing expression.

Napoleon sighed. "Put your arms back down and go back to our car," he instructed. He walked behind them until they climbed into the car. Unclipping his communicator from his pocket, he called Waverly and reported the situation, while the Thundermugs looked on in respectful silence.

Chapter 7

"The Thing To Do Is Work Out A New Questionnaire"

"SO," NAPOLEON CONCLUDED his explanation to Sascha Curtis and Rita Berman, "the Harrisburg agents took Illya and Dr. Armden on to New York, and I'm back here looking for a place to stay while I investigate what happened. I wouldn't mind having a place nearby to hide that car, either," he added. "It's a bit conspicuous."

"Amazing, perfectly amazing," Curtis said. "Must be some sort of drug; it couldn't be anything else. Though I don't," he added thoughtfully, "know of any current drug which would produce just that reaction."

"Thrush is quite adept at producing new drugs, if that's what it is," Napoleon replied. "I'm still not certain it isn't some sort of instant hypnotism."

"And the hotel wouldn't give you a room, you say?" Curtis remarked. "I can't think that they're really that full. As far as I know, that hotel has never been filled to capacity."

"Could the hotel manager be a Thrush?" Rita inquired.

"If he was, he'd have made room for me if he had to throw someone else out," Napoleon explained. "Thrush would like nothing better than to have me where they can keep an eye on me. It's more likely that the manager is affected by the same anti-U.N.C.L.E. influence that has struck the rest of the town. That doesn't seem like a drug; one can do wonders with modern drugs, but transferring prejudices seems a bit extraordinary."

"But you had a room in the hotel before," Sascha protested.

"The manager didn't know who we were before," Napoleon said. "He does, now; he was quite hostile about the lack of rooms."

"I know!" Rita exclaimed. "My cousin Lem will rent you a room, and you can keep your car in his barn."

Curtis looked dubious. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Lem Thompson isn't the friendliest soul in the world."

"Oh, he'll do it if I ask him," Rita assured them. "Come on, let's drive out there now, before my next class."

"Wait a minute," Napoleon said. "Who's Lem Thompson, where does he live, and if he lives far enough from town to own a barn, how can I keep the U.N.C.L.E. car hidden and still get back and forth?"

"He's a distant cousin of mine, he has a farm just outside of town, and I can drive you back and forth," Rita explained. "I never knew any real spies before, and I intend to make the most of my opportunity. In a pinch, you could walk there and back, though; it's only a couple of miles from town."

Napoleon finally consented and Rita happily led the way to her car.

Lemuel Thompson was repairing a tractor hitch with a portable welder when Rita arrived in her car, followed by Napoleon in the U.N.C.L.E. vehicle. He shut off the welder and listened, none too patiently, while Rita explained matters.

"Know anything about farming?" he asked Napoleon.

"Nothing," Napoleon said.

"What I thought. Okay, you can stay here, since you're a friend of Rita's. But keep out of my way and don't expect any special attention. I run this place pretty much by myself, and it keeps me too busy to mess with secret agents and public images." He spat contemptuously. "Right now I got to get back to this tractor if I'm going to get my fall plowing done. Rita, you take him in and introduce him to Betsy."

"I see what Professor Curtis meant," Napoleon commented as they walked to the house. "He isn't the friendliest person in the world."

"Oh, Lem is the epitome of the grouch with the heart of gold. It's well buried, but it's there if you dig deep enough. At least he isn't being unfriendly because you're an U.N.C.L.E. agent."

"No, he's just being unfriendly on general principles. I suppose that's an improvement."

They entered the house, where Betsy Thompson, a plump, bustlingly likeable individual, showered them with enough friendliness to make up for her husband's manner. Napoleon was shown to a room, provided with washcloths and towels, and taken on a quick tour of the house, while Betsy and Rita discussed U.N.C.L.E., hypnotism, doctors, Lem's backache, and the lack of rain, Rita's classes, and the latest exploits of Eyre the wombat, whose numerous escapes had apparently made him a local celebrity. Napoleon finally managed to get in a few words to explain that he really should get back to town and do a little investigating.

"And I have to get back to class!" Rita exclaimed, looking at her watch. "If I cut it any more, I'm liable to flunk. It's pretty dull, but I have to make a passing grade, at least."

They started the drive back to town, with Rita humming happily. "Betsy will certainly be happy to have you," she said. "She always enjoys cooking, and Lem usually refuses to eat anything fancier than steak, potatoes, hamburger and apple pie. If he feels exceptionally exotic, he might try a plate of spaghetti. It's one of Betsy's perpetual frustrations; fixing kosher meals for me is about the only fun she gets in the cooking line."

"In that case, let's hope that Illya gets back soon," Napoleon said. "He knows some unusual Russian recipes, and -"

He was interrupted by the beeping of his communicator. Rita glanced sideways as he removed the pen-like device from his pocket and spoke into it.

"Solo here."

"Ah, Mr. Solo," came the voice of Waverly. "I trust you're well-rested and alert. You sounded a bit ragged the last time I spoke to you."

"Yes, sir," Napoleon replied. "I got some sleep be fore driving back here. Have Illya and Dr. Armden arrived safely?"

"Yes, that's the reason I called. We've been running tests on them, and we've discovered significant amounts of an unusual drug in their systems. As yet, we have been unable to identify the compound."

"A drug?" Rita burst in. "Are they all right?"

"I take it you're not alone, Mr. Solo?"

"Mr. Waverly, may I present Rita - what is your last name?

"Berman."

"Besides being a pretty girl, she's a friend of Professor Curtis and also of U.N.C.L.E. And right now it looks like U.N.C.L.E. needs friends out here." He held the communicator out to her. "Miss Berman, this is Mr. Waverly - and keep your eyes on the road!" he added quickly.

"How did they get you in that little thing, Mr. Waverly?" she asked. "Are you a genie?"

"Not precisely, Miss Berman," Waverly returned, unperturbed. "Although I sometimes suspect that certain of my agents consider me in that light. Now, Mr. Solo, do you have any idea of how Mr. Kuryakin and Dr. Armden could have been given the drug when you weren't?"