13 - The Rainbow Affair

by David McDaniel

  He walked over to the ground glass and looked at it very closely while Napoleon and Illya looked at each other. Perhaps he didn't have television, but he got along all right. The Russian muttered, "Just as I thought. It's all done with mirrors."

  Rainbow paid no attention to them. He studied the unsteady image for several seconds, and then nodded. "It's the Thrush representative. I met him officially once, in the City, and I've had him watched off and on for some time. He's been trying to talk to me again. Apparently he has decided on a direct approach. Well, I suppose I'll have to let him in."

  He ordered the picture of the wall to a full shot again, and had the boat tracked visually all the way to the dock. As it was coming in, and for a minute thereafter, he spoke quickly to Napoleon and Illya as they got to their feet.

  "The Thrush has been becoming increasingly importunate in the last few weeks, and frankly I am beginning to be somewhat concerned. You will probably find it educational to watch the proceedings. Through that door you will find a short stairway leading to an observational post where you will be able to survey the room and hear all that transpires. I hope I can trust you not to betray your presence."

  They went up the stairs to a slightly cramped cubby hole somehow fitted into the structure of the office. Gauze-covered windows allowed them to view the room below through sections of the molding, and sound reached them clearly. They crouched, and watched.

  Rainbow returned to his desk, looked carefully around the room, and checked the observers with a glance. He sat as a bell chimed, and rose again as the door beneath the spy-hole opened and the Thrush came in.

  From overhead, he appeared as a faultless gray bowler, which he doffed as he entered. His hair was black, graying slightly, and thin. Johnnie Rainbow invited him to sit in one of the deep form-fitting chairs, and he placed his briefcase beside it and carefully perched on the edge.

  "Let us get directly to business," he began. "We have reason to believe that two agents of the U.N.C.L.E. infiltrated your island in the storm last night. We also assume that you captured them. Now we would like you to turn them over to us."

  Rainbow looked at him with an expression of injured disbelief. "Infiltrators he said. "On Donzerly? Ridiculous!"

  "Two men, one fair, one dark. Will you claim that they are still here undetected?"

  Stung by the implied insult, Rainbow snapped, "Sir, my security is unparalleled. A ghost could not penetrate without detection."

  The Thrush nodded. "Then you have them. What would you like in return for them? I am authorized to offer you a fifteen-passenger hydraulic lift, completely installed and maintained, for these men."

  Rainbow paused, and looked thoughtful. Above and behind the seated Thrush, Napoleon and Illya I at each other and wondered. But finally he shook his head.

  "I'm afraid your offer, though attractive, will not be able to tempt me. I have my own uses for these men."

  The Thrush shifted his weight uneasily. "The local satrap wants these men," he said, "and will therefore have them."

  Johnnie Rainbow rose and looked down at him. "These men are my personal prisoners, and mine to be done with as I please. I am not pleased to give them over to you."

  The man in the gray suit allowed the trace of an edge to appear in his voice. "Mr. Rainbow, please sit down." The command was voiced in such a way that when Johnnie gradually sank to his chair it seemed as though he was obeying. His visitor continued. "We have invested quite a fair amount in you. Many of our most advanced devices were given to you for field testing, and you have made considerable profit through them. You owe us a debt for this, and the time has come for payment. Give us the U.N.C.L.E. agents."

  Rainbow was recovering his aplomb. "Why are you suddenly so anxious to have them? Surely you have had better opportunities than now."

  "They have acquired great strategic importance; how, does not concern you."

  "I'm sorry. As my prisoners, they are my responsibility. And I could not hand control of their fate over to you. Although my dark career sometimes involves the crime of stealing,'" he quoted, "I do prefer to draw the line at cold murder."

  The Thrush paused and looked at him. "Come now, Mr. Rainbow. I can think of no fewer than ... twenty-seven in which your organization has been involved."

  Rainbow leaned forward, and his face was dark. "Falsehood, sir!" he said. "In five years, only six killings have been the direct result of my operations, and those were accidental and regrettable. My work is robbery, sir - not murder."

  "Nevertheless, it must happen from time to time. You should know what lengths are necessary for survival, let alone success. You have the ability, the character, and the talents an organization like Thrush needs. You have a high level of competence, and would rise far in our Hierarchy. This little island of England is nothing, compared to the area you could control. With us behind you, your network could expand over all of Europe. And we would be able to apply your powers to what ever problems faced us."

  The man in the gray suit looked around the room. "This little hole in the rock is like Robin Hood's cave. How far do you think you can go, with your center of operations out here in the wilderness? Join our efforts, and this little island of Donzerly will be only a crude starting place. All England and as much of the rest of the world as you could command, when we have achieved our goal."

  This took several seconds to recover from. Rainbow cleared his throat and his moustache fluttered. "Perhaps we have missed an understanding," he said slowly. "Power, per se, has no especial attraction for me. I'm not in this business for power - I'm in it for money. And the challenge." He smiled suddenly. "It's the greatest game in the world. And you people are being too bloody serious about it." He stood up again and held out his hand. "I'm afraid you can't have the U.N.C.L.E. agents, my good man. I hope you have enjoyed your trip out here, because you will have no other satisfaction to take back with you. Good afternoon."

  The man in the gray suit rose slowly to his feet. Napoleon and Illya could not see his face, but his voice was tightly controlled. "We have indeed missed an understanding. We will have those men from you one way or another, and you may never control Europe if you persist in your stubbornness."

  "I have no desire to control Europe. They probably deserve whatever troubles they have, and I'd rather let them fight. England holds all I shall ever want or need." He smiled. "The Bank of England, the Crown Jewels, the British Museum... I am satisfied with much less than the whole world, but I will not part with what I have."

  The Thrush picked up his bowler and his briefcase. "If you are not willing to work with us, Mr. Rainbow, you certainly cannot be allowed to continue working at cross-purposes. We are a worldwide organization, and for a local operation to interfere with our larger plans is unheard of. If this sounds like a threat, please accept it as such."

  Rainbow stood firmly, but his face clouded again. "Damme, sir, if I will give over to a bunch of heaven-forsaken foreigners. The finest police force in the world has been unable to run me to earth - you found me only by a stroke of fortune. You could not stop me and my men if it were to be an all-out war. My men are of the people, and can move among them at will. You will find few good men willing to join your organization in this country."

  The visitor remained unmoved. "You will contact us as you have been instructed within the next twelve hours," he said. "Four-thirty tomorrow morning. Before that time you will have agreed to a price for these men. There is no alternative."

  He turned and left. A messenger closed the door, and Johnnie Rainbow sank slowly into his seat. After several seconds he spoke again in a normal voice. "Mr. Solo - Mr. Kuryakin. Come down to the office again, please."

  They descended the narrow stairs and rejoined their host. He looked up as they entered, and a trace of strain showed around his eyes.

  "I give you my word, gentlemen, that this was not prearranged. Thrush is indeed pecking at my heels." He gestured them back to their seats, and continued. "It was by no means altruistic t
hat I withheld you from their grasp. My ancestry is Scots, and wanton wastefulness is alien to my nature. I believe Thrush merely wanted to establish mastery over me. But I will not give way to them. I consider them not only melodramatic to the point of foolishness, but far too enamored of simple violence for my tastes. I have reached a point, gentlemen, where I need no longer take orders from men whom I do not respect.

  "Thrush may be able to defeat me - they have the power, certainly, but I question their ability." He smiled briefly. "I expect to take a lot of killing. At this moment, since this is apparently to be a war, I must do all I can to inflict damage on my enemy before his impending attack. I have an advantage over him because of the extreme amorphousness of my operation. I have less than thirty people working for me full-time; all my labor is contracted out to independents who know nothing beyond their assignment. Thrush, on the other hand, has a fairly large central organization with a number of local semi-autonomous things -"

  "Satraps," said Illya. "Although the correct term is 'satrapy' for the local group, and 'satrap' being the individual in charge. The meaning has slipped askew in three or four thousand years."

  "Thrush Central is large," agreed Napoleon, "but highly mobile. It seems to be able to be anywhere in the world, but it doesn't stay there, but it doesn't move. We hope to get a little more data on this sometime. The satrapies are in constant communication with Central, where the Ultimate Computer is located."

  Rainbow nodded. "They keep in touch by means of a miniaturized satellite computer on a random time sharing basis. The satrap has a small computer-combined-with-multiplex-transceiver. The whole thing can travel in a large suitcase or a small trunk. It is tied into the Master, which in this case is the Ultimate Computer, and is used for most secure messages, instant access to all data anywhere within the organization, daily orders, and all record storage. A Thrush-backed small business with a satellite computer can edge out its competition because it will not have to buy time on a computer or maintain one."

  Illya's eyes were a little wider than usual. "The satellite has access to the entire storage of the Ultimate Computer?" he said quietly.

  "Of course," said Rainbow. "But the satellites are heavily protected against kidnapping. Any attempt to take one without authorization would simply result in the machine's wiping all memory banks and irretrievably severing communications with the Ultimate Computer."

  "Nothing is perfect," said Napoleon. "It would be a challenge."

  Rainbow smiled. "We may discuss that later," he said. "There is much more you might like to know. Before I give it to you, I offer a treaty. My operation may be severely damaged soon, and your job will essentially have been accomplished. Will you agree to do what you can to keep U.N.C.L.E. off my back for a while in return for useful information and – possibly - some practical cooperation against Thrush?"

  "We can't promise anything," said Napoleon. "But we can make a full and favorable report to our chief, including your offer. He is the only one who can accept or decline."

  "I could ask little better," said Rainbow. "You are men of honor, and your word is good."

  "Thank you," said Illya. "Now about that computer…"

  Chapter 15

  How Napoleon and Illya Departed Precipitously, and the Dawn Truly Came Up Like Thunder.

  THE REMAINDER of the afternoon was spent in conversation. Illya's photographic memory took down everything he heard and fastened the threads together.

  "There are three Ultimate Computers, actually," said Johnnie Rainbow at one point. "And here and there about the world, in the most unexpected places, are large concealed areas with a water supply, electrical lines, sewage, and full covers. One Thrush Central, call it alpha, is in one of these - perhaps a warehouse in Liverpool. At the same time, in a large cave in Argentina, Thrush Central beta is on standby, ready to go into operation literally at a second's notice. Also at the same time, Thrush Central gamma is in transit from an office building in Karachi to a tramp freighter which will cruise about the Pacific Ocean for several weeks. When gamma is completely set up and functioning, alpha dumps the records since it went active into beta's bank, and hands active control over to beta. Then alpha transfers all data into gamma's bank, gamma goes on stand-by, and alpha is torn down and moved to Reykjavik. One Thrush Central may maintain control for as short a time as two weeks or as long as two months. The Computer tells them when and where to move in a completely random manner.

  "The twelve members of the Supreme Council very rarely meet. Their communications are normally through their satellite computers, and the Ultimate Computer maintains records of all their discussions."

  "And the satellite computers have complete access to the Ultimate Computer," Illya said again under his breath.

  "But they are impossible to steal," Rainbow reminded him, and Illya looked up strangely.

  "Are they impossible to steal?" he asked directly.

  Johnnie cleared his throat. "I don't know yet," he said, and the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. Then he rose to his feet. "Come along, gentlemen. I would like to see how the work is proceeding." He guided them to the door, and they started out.

  There was a distant humming which rose and fell, and a fine dust filled the air. Rainbow raised his voice slightly. "Last minute precautions. I have no idea what form their attack will take, but I do expect a direct assault on the light. We should be able to defend against any reasonable offensive move, unless they resort to using tactical atomic weapons."

  "Not here," said Illya positively. "Radiation monitoring stations all over. It would attract a tremendous amount of attention."

  "Well, we're reinforcing our structure and preparing to withstand a possible siege; we may be able to hold off the Wogs after all."

  "But they aren't likely to stop. You may have to evacuate."

  "Leave my stronghold just as it is becoming livable? I may be of British stock, but I am not overly fond of castle life; the cold and damp are most unpleasant. Now it is nearly comfortable. And after all, a man's castle is his home. Besides, I expect Thrush to slack off once you are safely away."

  "Possibly," said Illya. "Possibly."

  Rainbow looked at his wrist watch. "Nine-thirty already! We must have a bite of supper. I have a great deal more to tell you, and the hours are passing far too quickly. Come - I will have trays sent up from the galley. Would you care for a turn around the rock before we get back to work?"

  Napoleon shook his head. "There'll be time enough for exercise in the morning." He turned thoughtfully to Illya. "Under the circumstances," he said, "I feel we should conclude our investigation of Mr. Rainbow, and concentrate upon the unexpected angles that have opened before us."

  The Russian nodded. "Succinctly put, Napoleon. I agree."

  Their host enjoyed this bit of byplay, and returned with them to his office. In the following hours, they gradually came into an open exchange of data on Thrush, with the U.N.C.L.E. agents adding less-secret items to Rainbow's invaluable file. After midnight, Illya started taking written notes.

  Thrush was not the sole topic of conversation. Rainbow would occasionally drift into a story from his military career, under Montgomery in the North African campaign, in Palestine after the War, in Korea and other combat zones later.

  "Where in Korea?" Napoleon asked.

  "Wonsan," Rainbow said. "Where were you?"

  "Up and down the other coast, mostly. Mokpo to Seoul."

  "It was a rotten little war, wasn't it?" There was silence on both sides for a moment, as Illya looked uncomfortably from one to the other. Solo returned first, and said, "Incidentally, your data on Thrush's political participation was most interesting."

  "Indeed," said Illya. "I'm somewhat hurt to find them siding with the Russians so often."

  "So is the Kremlin, comrade. That's probably why you're here."

  "Gentlemen, before we part I would like to offer you an insight. Your organization is evenly matched with Thrush as things stand now. Thrush is sma
ll, mobile, flexible, decentralized. U.N.C.L.E. is large, powerful, comparatively sluggish and regulation restricted. For this reason Thrush has the initiative, striking wherever it will. If Thrush grew to develop sufficient strength to defeat you, it would also be that much slower and easier for you to hit. Conversely, you cannot speed up enough to follow them without changing their entire structure. You would also need to seize the initiative. Your position vis-à-vis Thrush is much the same as theirs with reference to me. You may take this for what it is worth - a thought late in the night, perhaps born of inspiration, perhaps of the bourbon."

  He tipped the shared bottle over his glass, and leaned back into the chair. "The hour is late, and you must be leaving before dawn. Would you care for a short nap here? We will have a boat made ready for you, and you will leave about four o'clock."

  "We hate to talk and run..." said Napoleon automatically.

  "…but under the circumstances," said Illya, and they let it go at that as Johnnie tapped a key on his intercom.

  "Harry?" he said. "Do it." He released the key and rose.

  "I leave you here for your nap. The last of the bourbon was laced with another of Thrush's chemical wonders - it will put you comfortably to sleep in the next minute or two, and you will wake up refreshed in two hours, with time for a quick breakfast. Good night. I'd like to get to my quarters before it takes effect." And he closed the door.

  Napoleon looked at Illya and said, "I hope he makes it."

  "He will. He held off drinking his until a minute or two after we'd finished ours. I remember thinking at the time..." His voice faded away, but Napoleon didn't notice. He wouldn't notice anything for two hours.

  Shortly after four Napoleon stood in the gasoline-and-salt smelling area of the concealed clock. A large piece of camouflaged steel protected the anchorage, where several oddly assorted craft bobbed gently on the swells rolling in under the sea door, which was raised slightly to admit the breeze. He and Illya still held a last cup of steaming tea, and were bundled in most of their seafaring gear from the trip over. At their feet an impossibly tiny blue-gray inflated rubber liferaft rose and fell. Attached somehow behind it was a motor.