Текст книги "The Final Affair"

Автор книги: David McDaniel

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Then Don’t Touch The Other One.”

The moonlight had vanished in the merciless arc-white illumination of parachute flares over the two main assault points, bracketing the center of the island. Solo stopped just inside the doors, squinting into the naked glare, as the patter of small arms fire was heard in the distance, punctuated by the thump! of a grenade.

They flinched back into the shadows as running footsteps skidded up the walk. The door was flung open, and they leaped upon the individual who burst in before they recognised Mr. Goldin, covered with dust and blood.

“What happened?” Where’s Illya?”

MThey got him —he’s wounded. An alarm got tripped in the power house and there was a Guard handy. Sanders got into the generator control room .

ten feet ahead of him, and I guess he set it to Manual/Zero Delay. The Guard kicking in the door was the last thing I saw.” He shuddered violently and sat down on the bottom step. “I’ll be okay in a minute.”

“Are you hurt?” said Joan, kneeling beside him. “You look a bloody mess.”

“Cut scalp —no damage. .1 tucked a piece of my shirt that tore off under my cap to keep the blood out of my eyes.” He shivered again. .‘Just shock. Besides, I think some of this was the Guard.”

“What about Illya?” Napoleon insisted.

“The Guard’s first shot hit him —I couldn’t tell how bad. He was thirty feet away from me, and I could just see his legs sticking out from behind a desk. I was pinned down behind a generator, covering Sanders, who was out in front with most of the explosives. By then there were two or three Guards, because I got one who came after Kuryakin, but another came in from the protected side and dragged him off. And just about that time Sanders yelled sOOlething and took off for the control room door. The first Guard that shot at us came running in from the other side, and another one was shooting over my..head, so I didn’t see much, but I saw Sanders get into the control room and slam the door behind him, and I saw the Guard smashing in the door just before it all blew up. That was about the last thing I saw. But Kuryaktn was dragged off the other way.”

Solo turned to Joan. “Where would they take him?”

I’Not the Infirmary, under the circumstances…ProbabTy one of the Interview Rooms in the basement of the Big House.”

Something they couldn’t see lit up the sky beyond the Big House like a flash of lightning, and the concussion of heavy artillery shook the glass doors.

“They’re going to be concentrating more out towards the ends of the island,” Solo said. “Think you could get me there from here?”

“I can do it underground,” said Joan. .‘No, wait —theylll have full internal security on now. Welll have to go outside. But yes, anyway.”

“All right. Short, Mills —Goldin, are you functioning?”

He nodded and stood up with a deep breath. “Can you spare me some ammunition?”

“Take mine,M said Joan. “I‘11 be with Hr. Solo.”

“Right. You three are now detached. You’ve still got fifteen pounds of plastique and most of a pack of fuses. Do your best with them and link up with our side whenever you can.”

“But sir —” said Short.

“I can’t lead a parade in there,” said Solo. “And remember: don’t damage anything we can use if you can help it. Now, go get ‘em!”

All five flitted like deadly shadows into the twilight of the falling flares. Again the moon was the brightest illumination, and Joan and Napoleon raced across the wide grassy lawn bathed in its tender light.

She led him directly into a clump of decorative shrubbery close against the sturdy stone foundation of the Big House, and together they crouched in darkness, breathing quickly, scarcely touching. Intense and nearly continuous gunfire rattled not far away, and flashes danced beyond the Long Buildings. The tang of smokeless powder perfumed the soft tropical breeze that stirred the leaves of their hiding place.

Joan touched his shoulder and beckoned him to follow as she ducked into the narrow sheltered space between the stumps of the bushes and the wall.

On hands and knees they hurried towards the rear of the house. From time to time small unseen things smacked the stone above them and pattered down through the dense leaves. Around the corner ahead a blue-white flash and a sound like a thunderclap made them stop and cower back.

“Are they shelling?” asked Napoleon.

“I can’t tell. But I’ll let you know in a minute —the door we’re going in by is just around the corner. See where the Barn comes closest to the Big House? The door there is where Illya’s group went in, and probably where they took him out —then straight in the rear basement door and into the first room available because by then the balloon was going up outside.

Where would you go if you were a horse?”

“Right after you, sugar-lump,” said Napoleon.

“Come on, clown,” she said, and reached back to touch his hand momentarily before edging forward.

He joined her peering around the corner close to the ground. Three tall masts, like flagpoles, stood centered on three sides of the yard. About the top of each shimnered a blue nimbus like St. Elmo’s Fire. Electric tension filled the air with the heady pungency of ozone. As they watched, the halos grew in intensity until giant jagged sparks staggered in firey script to a point in the center where a field of some unguessable force seemed to gather them for seconds before hurtling a bolt of ferocious energy towards the moon-spangled sea.

“What’s that?” said Joan.

“It’s a fiendish thingie, Mark IV,” said Napoleon. “Come on, while it’s recharging. They’re probably shooting at the Corrlnand Sub.”

“I hope that door’s open!”

It was closed and locked, but not for long. A thermite “skeleton key”

blew the handle off and probably triggered an alann, but nobody was likely to notice under the circumstances. Napoleon braced a heavy standing ashtray and a chair against the inside to hold it closed, muffling the sounds of battle without, while Joan checked the first few of a series of rooms on either side of the corridor.

She beckoned Napoleon silently with a quick wave of her U.N.C.L.E.

Special, and he noticed as he joined her the twisted wire of a field telephone running under the third door on the left. Quietly he eased the door open, to hear a voice. “How many men in the attacking force? How many men?”

Solo kicked open the door with his automatic extended and barked, “Freeze!” A man in shirtsleeves looked up from the metal cot in the pale glare of a Coleman lantern and slowly raised his hands. “Are you alone?”

The man glanced down at the scarred leather case of the field phone in the shadow beneath his chair and said, “Yes.”

Napoleon kicked away the rifle which leaned against the chair and Joan caught it as an unsteady voice said from the cot, “Hello, Napoleon. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you. How fast can you run?”

“1 don’t know. Even if 1 wasn’t shackled to this bunk.”

“The bunk’s bolted to the wall,” the Thrush interviewer volunteered.

“And before you get rough, 1 don’t have any keys but my locker key, and that won’t help. Only the Chief Therapist can open them. You, whatever-you-name-is —the Guard that locked you in there didn’t even use a key, did he?”

“He’s right. Napoleon. And, honestly, I don’t feel like moving very fast.”

Solo inspected his partner’s shouldert neatly wrapped in a field dressing which obscured the extent of the damage. “How is it?” he asked professionally.

“.It could be worse. It missed nNJjor arteries and I think the shoulder joint is all rightt but the left hand hasn’t been working and I’m pretty sure something is broken but I don’t know where. Besides, I think I lost about a quart of blood. Is there some water?”

“On the table,” said the interviewer.

“You drink some first,” said Solo.

“Glad to.” Rising slowly, the interviewer poured a glass of water and drank it, then refilled the glass and held it for Illya wtlile he drank, awkwardly.

Something slammed the building like a fist, and dust settled from the cool green walls. The table jumped, rattling the pitcher.

“Now they’re shelling,” said Solo. “Who’s on the other end of that phone?”

The interviewer paled. “My boss,” he hedged.

“The Boss? Acting Central?”

“Uh… yes…”

“Okay. You ring up and tell them that they are under arrest in the name of the United Network Command For Law And Enforcement.”

The interviewer started to stall, and the fitful hell of the hand-crank set clattered discordantly. Napoleon picked up the handset, pushing the talk-switch. “Yeah?” he said impatiently.

“Myron, this is Jay. Forget the prisoner. We’re pulling out all personnel with tech priority. You’ve got six minutes to report to Bay Four.

They’re arming Little Brother. See you there, fella.”

Napoleon looked at the silent handset for a roment, then turned to the interviewer. “Tell me, Myron,” he said thoughtfully. “Who is ‘Little Brother’?”

The Thrush interviewer looked around unhappily, and helped himself to another glass of water while Joan and Napoleon watched him suspiciously.

“He’s —ah —look, how much longer are you going to keep me here? There’s no help I can give you —I’m not even worth anything as a hostage. Honest..”

“I believe you,H said Napoleon sincerely. “But Jay said ‘Little Brother’

as if he expected you to know what it meant, and although I only spoke with him for a moment on the telephone I feel I can trust his judgment in this.

And by the by —he also said to tell you they were pulling out all personnel with tech priority. I forget where he said they were leaving from. but I doubt if they’ll miss you in all the confusion, and they didn’t seem likely to wait. Who is ‘Little Brother’?”

He glanced at Joan, who shook her head. “He’s new since my time,” she said. “But Myron looks terribly upset all of a sudden. Take a load off your conscience,” she advised him.

“Yes. Unburden your soul,” directed Napoleon coldly. “This may be your last chance to save it. Co-operate —and the next time you go to sleep you can expect to wake up. ”

The interviewer laughed. unexpectedly. “Not with Little Brother.” he said. “We’ll never even notice him.” He sat down. and shrugged. “There are worse ways to gO.”

“There may be for you,” said Napoleon. “I’ve got better things to do wi th my time. II He grinned “qui ckly at Joan. “So they I ye got a bomb under the house. huh? Where is it?”

“Does it matter? If it’ll make you happy to know, it’s a fifty kiloton nuclear warhead we hijacked a couple of years ago. There’s a lot of research on this island that shouldn’t be allowed loose in the world.”

Concussion buffet ted them again. and a crack shot up one wall. The table danced and only a quick grab by Napoleon saved the Coleman lantern from toppling. Their shadows leaped high on the walls as he swung it, hissing. by its wire handle.

“We need to know. Myron,” he said flatly. “Where is Little Brother?”

Outside. beyond the Long Buildings to the south. flames clawed at the star-crusted, smoke-smeared sky. lit red from beneath like the fires of hell.

In this infernal glare men ran and fired, and rose to run again or fell and fired no more. Quonsets vibrated like giant steel drums to the slamming penetration of slugs, and the sharp cough of U.N.C.L.E. Specials underscored the short vicious snarl of Thrush automatic rifles.

From half a mile offshore, through a light-amplifying video pickup to his place on the bridge of the command sub, Alexander Waverly watched his forces moving in along the island, units checking the outer points to their rear while the rest centered attention on isolating the c~ntral complex and moving in on it. /ith full magnification he could see machine guns on the roof above the veranda, protected by reinforced cornices, ready to rain fire on the invaders. Something had to be done about the Big House. And that strange thing behind the Big House, /hich was shooting something at him -though only the periscope showed above the surface, it seemed to attract the bolts like a lightning rod. Something would have to be done about that. too.

“Captain.” he said. “Surface. We must direct our deck gun aqainst the Big House. Aim first into the yard. there, then ease up on the building.

Give their gun crews a chance to evacuate. It’s oore than they’d give us.”

The deck shifted slightly as the sub rose. and then the top hatch was swung back to pass the three-man gun crew. scampering up a ladder to the dripping deck and a smell of salt and oil.

Illya balanced Joan’s Special in his good right hand while she had a long serious talk with their cpptive Thrush. Napoleon took the opportunity to scout the basement area in preference to sitting in on the interview —he started by following the phone wires to the foot of a stygian stairwell.

where he stopped and tugged experimentally on them. There was no give; probablya door closed on them somewhere. And it wasn’t time to go upstairs yet.

At least not all the way… Silenced automatic ready. he traced the twisted line up the side of the stairs to a landing and around the corner into total darkness. No, not total. Above him a glass double door shone in ruddy rectangles against which shifting shadows ran back and forth. Rifles chattered nearby and Napoleon hugged the wall as he crept upwards towards the dim light.

Sure enough. the wires were wedged tightly under the door. and the door was locked. He could kick it open, but that would attract undue attention, and he had enough to worry about without adding tri9ger-happy Thrush Guards.

A slug snapped through the top pane of the lefthand door and dust powdered down on him from the stone ceiling. He severed the phone wire with his commando knife and retreated, dragging the end with him.

He looped it around the railing at the foot of the stairs and went on exploring. He spent a few more minutes familiarising himself with the layout of the cellar, and then returned to base.

Joan looked up as he tapped at the door and entered. “It’s in Room 39,”

she said. HHe started to soften shortly after you left. I simply pointed out that if he cooperated convincingly he wouldn’t have to be hurt a lot before he died, and if he didn’t it’d be interesting to see if he would last until the balloon went up.”

“A well-made point,” said Napoleon. -How well did you know Ward Baldwin?

Never mind. Room 39, huh?”

“I’ll take you there,” Myron volunteered.

“Don’t bother,” said Solo. “I found it on my walk. I also got a peek upstairs. It’s full of Guards, and they’re all shooting out windows. Even our private entrance has almost been secured.

“Almost?”

MThey dropped steel shutters behind the door some time after we came in, but the chair I stuck there to hold it closed jammed them halfway. I think we could squeeze through if we wanted to 90 out that way.”

A brief glare of orange flashed down the hall just as another blast slapped the back of the building. A piece of plaster detached itself from the ceiling and shattered on the floor.

“Personally,” he added, .I’d rather wait.”

“But not here,” said Myron anxiously. “Farther in..

“My friend doesn’t have the choice. I’m going to Room 39 to see if something can be done about Little Brother. Maybe there’s some wires I can cut or something.”

“They’re going to set it off by radio. It’s all sealed, once it’s been armed.”

“Not likely, Napoleon,” said Illya. “There’s got to be some way of disanning it. I could probably work it out in a few minutes…”

“Well, I wish I could bring it in here for you to work on.N

“Hey, look,” said Myron. “We ought to get out of here.”

Without turning around, Napoleon said, “Joan —put him to sleep.”

“Check.”

“The box they’d dug these field phones out of was stuck here behind the door,” Solo continued as Joan d~lt efficiently with the Thrush. “and there are three more sets. If I 90 in there and tell you what I see. can you tell me what to do?”

There was silence for a few seconds. Illya’s pale face was alroost lost in shadow and Napoleon read little on it before he said, “I suppose I can try. What tools do you have?”

“I’ve got the commando knife, and a few thermite skeleton keys. And the Special.”

“Nothing smaller?” said Joan. -Here.” Frcxn somewhere she produced a nailfile and a hairpin. “You can’t use a commando knife insid! a circuit board. Take these.”

“I’ll drag the other end of this wire over to Room 39.” he said. “It ran all the way to the next stairwell and up. I cut it just inside the door when I took a look into the upstairs. It’s a beautiful old place.”

“Remind me someday to tell you about the formal banquets there. ‘1

“Tomorrow.” said Napoleon. “On our way home.”

“Tonight.” said Illya. “Just because they won’t blow up the place until total defeat is inevitable doesn’t mean we can afford to stand around. How much faith do you have in our side. anyway? 1 expect them to come in that back door any moment.”

“I’m gone,” said Napol’eon. and was.

He returned a moment later. “One thing.” he said. “I’m going to have to take the lantern with me for light to work by.”

“Napoleon —” said Joan. but he was gone again and darkness filled the room. A moment later another shell burst against the back of the house.

throwing Joan against the table. She recovered her balance and sneezed.

More plaster crunched under her feet as she groped for the chair, which had been tipped over. From somewhere she could hear the insistent dripping of water.

“Illya —are you all right?”

“The bed has good springs, but the concussions make my head ache. And I find it hard to focus in the dark. Where are yoU?‘1

“Over here, near where the chair was. I’m looking for the phone pack.

Here it is.”

“Where I s Myron ?‘1

“Tucked in a corner. fast asl eep. He’s as safe as we are. ”

Another shell struck nearby and the room shuddered. A moment later the phone bell clattered.

“U.N.C.L.E. Field Base J-for-Joan. Go ahead.”

“What would you have done if this hadn’t been me?”

“I’d’ve thought of a good one quick. Where are you?”

“At the door of Room 39. I’m about to blow my way in, and thought I’d check the phone first. There’s no particular —” The phone cut off.

Joan listened. Silence pressed against her ear, and only the distant sound of intermittent gunfire outside filled the quiet. Something exploded far away towards the front of the house, more felt than heard. “Napoleon?

l’ve lost your signal…”

“What is it?” Illya asked, struggling to raise himself on his good elbow.

“1 don’t know,” said Joan. “He’s there. but —”

“Hey are you still there?”

“Where would I go?”

“Sorry for dropping you like that, but a couple of Guards were on their way past and wondered what I was doing. And —Hah! There goes the door.

Okay… stay with me, now…”

“What’s going on?” Illya insisted.

“He had to shoot a couple of Guards —just blew the door to Room 39.

He’s going inside now.”

“What does it look like? Any exposed controls at all?”

“What do you see?” Joan prompted.

“Not much. There’s a grey metal wall panel which makes this room about half as deep as Illya’s.”

“Any instruments. controls, signs, et cetera?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Joan relayed. “It fills half the room, though.”

“There’s a couple of small panels with counter-sunk screws. I didn’t see them until I looked closely.”

“Ask him if there are any access panels.”

“He just found a couple.”

“Tell him to open them. They probably aren’t booby-trapped —you needn’t mention the idea.”

“Ask Illya if I should open them.”

“He just said you should. Look —you two are reading each other’s minds anyway. Illya can hold the phone himself.”

“Okay. I’ll be busy for a while, but the round end of your nailfile fits these screwheads pretty well. I’ll ring you back after I get one off. Hey, which one should I take off first? One is eye level on the far right and the other is halfway to the left about a foot above the floor. And they’re both about a foot on a side.”

Joan relayed the data to Illya, who said, “Tell him… No, give me the phone. Hello. Napoleon —open the upper one first if it’s got an insulated edge around it. The lower one’s probably something —”

An explosion on the floor above dropped blocks of stone from their ceiling and stunned them for a moment. When Illya found the phone under his .

right shoulder, it was saying tinnily, “Hello? Illya? Hello? Are you still there?”

“Right here, Napoleon. All okay. Call me before you do anything else after opening the panel.”

“There’s no insulation showing on either of them.”

“Take the upper one anyway.”

“Check. Upper right panel. I’ll call you back.”

Illya let the handset drop to his pillow wearily. “He’s working on it,”

he said. “He’ll call us back.” His voice was strained, and his breathing irregular.

There was only the endless distant sound of war overhead and the occasional shocks of explosions which had lost their power to terrify. Joan knelt on the plaster-sharded floor beside the metal frame bed and leaned her head against it, suddenly tired. It was quiet for several seconds, and then Illya said, “Joan?”

“Yes?”

“I’m getting a little fuzzy. You’d better talk to me, so I can stay awake. Napoleon should be calling back in a couple of minutes —and I have the feeling if I let go now I might not be very easy to wake up. So talk to me. What was going on outside when you came in?”

“Our main assault force was ashore and moving in. Something was burning, .

down beyond the Long Buildings.”

“What happened in the powerhouse after Sanders tripped the alarm? Do you have any idea?” .

“Oh, yes; Goldin made it out. Sanders managed to accomplish the target and took out a Guard and hiIRSelf in the process. Medal of Honor material.”

“Worthy of him. I wonder how Napoleon’s doing…”

“Illya, I’d like to ask you some questions. If you don’t mind —”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve worked with Napoleon for six years. According to your personal files you are each other’s closest friends —and this business tends to discourage such things. And now that I’ve found him again after all these years —and so close to losing him forever —I wish you could tell me what he’s really like, now.”

There was silence for a moment before Illya said, “Actually, I don’t think I really know him that well. There has always been much about him that I didn’t understand.” He paused, thinking. “for a long time he was fearless —almost suicidally so. But in the last couple of years he’s seemed to sober up. In scxne respects. I’d say —”

The phone rang. and Illya found the handset. “Kuryakin.”

“There’s a valve handle, in a box. Nothing else.”

“Rats. What does it say on the valve handle? Anything stamped or written on it? Is it metal?”

Pause.

“Yeah. Metal, with P.J.V.R. stamped on it. All caps, with periods.”

“Try turning it.”

“It turns in both directions. Shall I leave it centered where it was?”

“No, turn it all the way to the left for good luck,” said Illya. “And go to work on the other panel. ”

“It’ll be easier,” said Napoleon cheerfully. “The lantern’s on the floor. I hope it was full of fuel.”

“You may have a little longer, by the way —whoever was knocking at the back door seems to have given up. The dust is settling back here. But don’t take all night —there are lots of places I’d rather be.”

“You may be there before you know it. I’ll ring back when I get the second panel off. What should I hope to see?”

“Some switches, some wires. Probablya light or t’IIf’o. Call me.” He dropped the phone and slumped back, breathing harshly.

“I just remembered,” he said after a few seconds. I’The rest of the field surgical kit —is in the drawer of that little table —next to the closet. I saw the Guard put it there. Can you find it?”

“Probably,” said Joan, and groped away through the darkness.

“There’s some morphine in there. Just get it ready. I can’t have any until we’re through this, but I’ll want it ready. Besides, they gave me adrenalin before Myron started talking to me and it hasn’t worn off yet.

“But you wanted to know about Napoleon. He likes boats —oh, of course he told you about his 27-footer, the Pursang…”

“What’s his favorite color?”

“Color? I haven’t the least idea. His favorite wine…”

Several wooden buildings on both sides of the island were roaring skyward in flames, and the waning moon was obscured by the smoke of their burning.

The rear of the Big House was a cratered ruin, thin topsoil scattered and coral blasted to dust. No more lightning was flung at the sea, and no more shells were being fired; the surface moved dark and peaceful.

The invading force from U.N.C.L.E~.was stalled, running into concerted defense through the Long Buildings to the south and from the fortified Guard Quarters to the north of the Big House. Once again light machine guns perched behind concrete cornices of the old mansion, sleeting leaden death on anything that moved in their free-fire zone. Their infrared sniperscopes were aided by the flickering heat of the rising flames before which the U.N.C.L.E.

troops advanced and towards which they were forced to retire again. Something fat and shiny in an upper story window spat whirling spheres of yellow-white fire across the open yard to the north, and uniformed figures scampered away from its line of fire, as bullets spattered the stonework about the window.

Downstairs Joan could only tell that the gunfire overhead was less frequent, and the shelling seemed to have stopped. It was comparatively restful now in the darkness of the cell, and breathing was easier as the d~t settled.

“…He played lacrossein college —and I remember he threw the javelin …” Illya’s voice murmured softly. prompted occasionally by Joan, as they waited for the telephone to ring again. It might have been five minutes. it might have been fifteen.

When it rang. Joan grabbed the handset. “U.N.C.L.E. base,” she said.

“How is it?”

“Pretty good, I guess, but I’d better talk directly to Illya.”

Joan helped the Russian prop the phone on the pillow next to his ear, his right hand operating the talk switch.

“Right here. Napoleon,” he said. “What do you see?”

“A mess of wires. There are a few switches —not mounted, just hanging in there between wires. And there’s a red pilot light on —and an orange one, a blue one, and a green one that aren’t on. Is that good?”

“I wouldn’t count on it. What color are the wires leading to the light that is on?”

“Uhhhhh, lemme see… One of them is red and one’s a red-green stripe…”

“Trace them back and see which one goes to a switch. It should be the striped one.”

”…and one is a blue-and-white stripe. What did you say?”

“Never mind. Trace both striped ones, and the red one too. Tell me which goes where.”

“Okay. Hey —the blue light just went on. The red one is still on.

What does that mean?”

“I don’t know yet. Trace the red wire first,” said Illya. “And see if there’s any way you can get through the panel into the triggering mechanism —unless there’s a wiring diagram stuck inside the door.”

“Nope. I looked. The solid red wire goes with a bundle out a little hole in the lefthand side. The red-green goes with a bundle out the back.

The blue-white wire runs to a switch, and another blue-white runs… ah…

to the green light? That doesn’t seen right. Just a minute.”

Something like a grenade went off somewhere overhead. “Don’t take that minute,” said Illya urgently. “Can you get past the wiring? Can you get into the space beyond that wall?”

“I’ll see.”

“What’s happening?” Joan asked as a machine gun stammered intently above them.

“Trying to get at the mechanism,” said Illya. “Sounds as if the attack has picked up again. If Thrush is going to wait until this building is taken before they set off that device, they may not have too much 1onger to wait. Incidentally, did you get a look at some of the underground areas on your way —”

“Illya, you there?”

“Right here.”

“I’ve got two panels pried loose —and finally broke the blade of my knife. There’s something about as big as my desk up on a trestle, and a box with cables. Some of them lead up to that box in the wall with the lights and switches in it. I’m behind the wll now and looking around…

That pipe with the valve on it leads into the big thing on the trestle -and there’s another pipe out the bottom. What is it?”

“There’s a water jacket around the device; a steady flow of water past it is monitored for radioactivity to detect leaks. The water’s off. so I had you close the valve. It might come bacK on with a pressure surge, and this way the inner casing will be protected. Tell me about that box with the cables.”

“It’s so!id all the way around. Maybe I could break into it, maybe not.

There’s one fat cable to the thing, though, and… Lemme see… No, it

won’t unplug.”

“Don’t cut it! Can you get into the mechanism?”

“Through the water jacket?”

“No, like where the plug goes in. That should be right up at the front, and it might not be solid.”

“I’ll see.”

“Be gentle.”

Five irregularly spaced blows in as many seconds bludgeoned the building, and there was a heavy roar like a wall caving in upstairs. Simultaneouslya thunderous wave of smoke and shrapnel filled the hallway as the outside door was blasted by a high-explosive charge.

“I’ll work on it. It sounds as if the mortars are coming up. Aren’t you glad you’re in a nice safe bombshelter instead of out here where it’s dangerous? Okay, I’m going into the firing mechanism now…”

The Big House was built like a fortress, and would have to be stormed like one. Outer defenses fallen, the stone mansion stood, deadly fire spitting unabated from shuttered casements and sheltered crannies. A hold gaped in one third-floor wall where a missile had found the narrow opening of a window, and porch pillars around three sides were bullet-pocked and splintered.

Beyond the Barn and to both sides. the U.N.C.L.E. forces now surrounded the house. unable to make a decisive attack. Sustained mortar fire had hardly diminished the defensive capacity of the Big House. but now scattered attack groups were gathering themselves for one concerted rush. Dark-windowed.