[Magazine 1966-­04] - The Unspeakable Affair - Davis Robert Hart (книги онлайн полные .TXT) 📗

"Napoleon?" Illya said as Solo came on the line. "Yes, Illya here. I am with General Valera. Yes, all is correct, naturally. The general is anxious to get started. Will you meet us—"

Illya stopped and looked at Valera. The general stood behind his desk.

"At my car out in front. A grey Bentley touring car. He can't mistake it. My general's license plate is on it. Please urge speed; this is an urgent affair."

Illya spoke into the telephone. "Out in front of the Defense Ministry. Valera's car is a grey Bentley touring car with his license on it. And, Napoleon, hurry please." As Illya put down the instrument he pretended to let it slip to the desk. He picked it up again and replaced it in its cradle. But he had heard the faint but tell-tale click on the line—someone had been listening to his call. He grinned at General Valera.

"We won't have to wait long, General," Illya said. "But, you know, I wonder if I shouldn't meet General Hoyos after all?"

"Hoyos?" Valera said. "But we agreed that it was imperative to keep the government officially out of this? I can pass all but unseen, but General Hoyos could not."

Illya still smiled. "Of course, you're right. How are your roses growing?"

Valera stood immobile behind his desk. "Roses?"

"You do grow them?" Illya said.

Valera smiled. "Ah, yes. That would be in my dossier at U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters, wouldn't it?"

Illya watched the general quizzically. "You admit it?"

Valera shrugged. "That I am Council Member 'L'? Why not? You must know, but—"

The U.N.C.L.E. special appeared in Illya's hand as if by magic. It was aimed at Valera. The general did not move.

"I think we will talk to General Hoyos," Illya said.

Valera laughed. "No, I think not."

"This is no joke, Valera," Illya said. "I have you—"

Illya said no more. Hands grabbed him from behind. His gun was knocked to the floor by a paralyzing blow. Before he could utter a sound, he was held as firmly as a trussed goose by three men who had crept up behind him silently. Valera bent and picked up the pistol. The general was smiling.

"It was the six nuclear-craft, wasn't it?" Valera said. "Yes, I realized that was a slip the instant I said it. I was not sure you had caught it, but I do not underestimate an opponent. That is why I am where I am, and why I will go farther."

Illya nodded, understandingly. "You alerted your men with some phrase in the message you gave me for Napoleon."

"You see, you are intelligent. Yes, the phrase 'an urgent affair' is my warning signal," Valera said, and the general motioned to his men. "Take him into the next office. We must wait until they bring Solo to me. It was very good of you to tell me just where to find Solo, Mr. Kuryakin. We will not have to wait long."

Valera laughed again. But this time, for once, the general was wrong.

FIVE

IN THE ROOM in the Hotel Splendide, Napoleon Solo put down the telephone receiver and rubbed his chin. So it was a trap, as they had suspected it might be. The utter secrecy, the dealing with Valera instead of General Hoyos, had had a false ring to it. Nothing the two agents could put their finger on, but a little odd. Everything had been too carefully arranged to send them straight to this country and General Valera.

Now Illya had confirmed their suspicions. The phrase "All is correct, naturally" was the signal that all was far from correct. If it had been correct, Illya would have said, "All is right," and not added the word, naturally. The call, then, was Valera's way of locating him. They would be knocking on the door in minutes.

Solo moved rapidly. He needed time now. It would not be enough to simply escape, to not be here when they came. If he did only that, they would immediately alert Valera, and Solo needed time. It was possible that Illya would escape, but he had to assume that Illya would not escape the trap.

He went to work. There was no telling how many of them there would be, and he would have to get them all and fast. He took the miniature tape recorder from his briefcase and set it in the bedroom of the suite. Across the door into bedroom, low near the floor, he set a trip wire attached to small gas bombs on either side.

This done, he took his briefcase and his U.N.C.L.E. special and went out into the corridor. He crossed the corridor to the room across the hall, an empty room rented by Illya for just such a purpose. Inside this room he stood just behind the door, with the door open a crack, and the door of his suite across the hall clearly visible.

In his pocket his left hand rested on the remote control of the tape recorder.

He was just fast enough.

The four men came down the1 corridor from the elevator—four soldiers with the insignia of the Defense Ministry staff. They were armed and they moved swiftly and with expert silence. They stopped in front of the door to 416. Solo clicked on the tape recorder with his remote control.

The four men cautiously opened the door to 416. Napoleon Solo smiled as his own voice came to him from the bedroom, his own voice talking to Waverly in New York. The four soldiers nodded to each other and entered the suite. Solo waited.

There was a short silence.

Then he heard a door kicked in, two sharp explosions low and muffled, and sudden screams.

Men were choking.

Solo stepped out into the corridor.

One man came running from the door of room 416. Solo shot him with a single sleep-dart. The man collapsed in the corridor. Solo grasped the heels of the man and dragged him into the suite. Inside he saw the other three men sprawled in the doorway to the bedroom. He dragged them all into the bedroom, closed and locked the bedroom door, and again left the suite.

He hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the corridor door, and walked away, grinning.

The whole incident had taken less than two minutes. The four soldiers would sleep for at least five hours. Solo went down the stairs and out into the street in front of the hotel. He saw the military car. The driver was reading a newspaper. Solo stepped into the rear seat and closed the door. His U.N.C.L.E. special rested with the muzzle against the driver's neck.

"The Defense Ministry, and very fast."

The driver said nothing, but put the car into gear and drove off. Five minutes later they pulled up a block from the Defense Ministry. Solo reached out and gently squeezed the driver's neck. The driver collapsed where he sat. Solo pulled the man into the back seat, bound and gagged him, and locked the car.

Moments later he stood in front of the Ministry of Defense. The only men in sight were two bored guards on the entrance. Solo saw General Valera's grey Bentley.

Casually, Solo walked past the grey touring car. As he reached the rear bumper he appeared to drop his briefcase. He bent to pick it up and then walked on and away around the nearest corner.

The soldiers on guard had seen nothing, but in the instant of bending Solo had placed a tiny vial beneath the rear bumper of the grey Bentley.

Then he returned to the military car, got in, and sat waiting where he could see the grey Bentley.

* * *

UPSTAIRS, in the office of General Valera, the general himself paced and looked at his watch. A half an hour had passed and there was no Solo and no report from his men. Valera pressed a button. Three armed guards brought Illya in from the next office.

"So," Valera said, "you warned him. I should have guessed. However, it will do you no good. He will be found, and you will not be found. Prepare him!"