The Genghis Khan Affair

by Robert Hart Davis

  “He lies,” Li said. “He is a Russian; he has said so. Are Russians your friends?”

  The THRUSH impostor learned fast. The Mongol leader seemed to nod at his charge. He let his black eyes turn from one group to the other.

  “We do not care. China or Russia, all the same. We do not care about either, we are ourselves. We are the sons of the great Genghis Khan! We do not want a big war to come to our land. The small man is Russian, our enemy. The other man is Chinese, our enemy. The big men are strangers to our land, we do not know about them. All are nothing, should die, end it.”

  The Mongol leader studied all the faces of the prisoners. He seemed to be thinking hard. Then he motioned, and five men went to him. These were clearly sub-leaders. The six conferred for a time. In the cold mountain morning, the sun had just reached the top of the valley rim opposite the village. At last, the conference ended.

  The leader stood from his macabre seat. “One of you lies. Perhaps both lie. But we do not want a big war to come here. If small Russian tells the truth, then a big war will come here, and that is not good. He says he will stop big war.”

  The leader turned to Dr. Li. “Chinese man says his big rockets will protect us from big war tomorrow. If he tells truth, then it is good for us, too. How do we know which one tells truth? We do not. So, we will learn who tells the truth. The Gods will tell us who speaks true.”

  The leader made a sweeping motion. There was a murmur among the horde of Mongol warriors. The five sub-leaders leaped onto their horses and galloped off toward the far end of the village.

  Solo watched them. “What does he mean, the Gods will tell, Illya?”

  Dr. Li snarled. “Some sort of stupid magic, no doubt! These savages!”

  “No,” Illya said, his eyes watching the horde of Mongols as they talked excitedly. “Look at them! They’re laying bets!”

  “Bets?” Dr. Li said, staring. “On what, Kuryakin?”

  “On us, Dr. Li,” Illya said drily. “You see, it will be a trial by combat!”

  THREE

  The Mongol warriors formed a giant circle far out on the open floor of the mountain valley. One of the sub-leaders rode just inside the circle, four lances in his hand. He struck each lance into the ground as he galloped until the lances formed the four corners of a large rectangle three times the size of a football field.

  “Come!” the leader commanded.

  The grinning and excited guards pushed Illya Kuryakin and Dr. Li forward toward where the Mongol leader stood with two snorting ponies. There was a great shout from all the wild horsemen of the Mongol Plain as Illya and Li stepped to the leader. They were excited, the Mongols.

  Illya and Li stood before the chief.

  “You will each take a horse, start at each end of the field. You will have a whip, a knife, and your hands. The man who wins the Gods say tells the truth. The man who loses tells lies. To win you must do one of three results: You must be the man who remains on the field---a man who rides from the field bounded by the lances, or is forced from the field, loses. The man who falls from his horse loses. The man who is killed loses.”

  Solo, some fifty feet away, listened. He looked around, but there was no way out. The fierce Mongol warriors ringed the field in a solid wall. Solo heard the instructions: a man lost the contest if he was killed, fell from his horse, or left the field of combat for any reason. It was, in short, really a contest of horsemanship! The question was, how good was Illya on a wild Mongolian pony? And how good was Dr. Li---the false Dr. Li?

  But there was no more time to wonder. With a great shout from the eager Mongols all around the field, Illya and Dr. Li mounted their ponies, with only furs for a saddle, and rode to opposite ends of the field. Solo and the THRUSH men watched tensely. There was a smile on the faces of two of the THRUSH men---perhaps Li was an expert horseman after all!

  At the far end of the field, Li stripped off his coat, grasped the whip in his right hand, put the knife in his teeth, and gripped the bridle of the pony in his left hand. Illya sat his pony, his whip in his left hand, the knife in his belt.

  “Now!” the leader cried.

  The two men kicked their ponies and rode at each other.

  Dr. Li rode straight at Illya, the whip lashing out. Illya evaded the whip, jumped his horse out of the path, and Li hurtled past almost to the edge of the field.

  Li reigned expertly, the pony went up on its hind legs, and Li brought it around without the forelegs touching the ground or leaving the field.

  Illya swooped into Li before the impostor could set his pony again. Li’s whip lashed out, cutting into Illya’s face. But Illya’s pony struck Li’s pony and the THRUSH man swayed in the saddle. Then the two horses whirled apart. Li galloped up the field, recovered. Illya wiped the blood from his face. The Mongols shouted.

  The battle of skill went on in the sun on the arid plain below the mountains. The ponies circled, ran at each other, hurtled around the field. Twice Illya was almost forced off the field by the horsemanship of Li.

  Once a cut of Illya’s whip nearly unseated Li.

  Then Illya caught Li’s whip and pulled it away from the THRUSH man. Li had to let it go or be pulled from his pony.

  Minutes later, in a hand to hand struggle on their horses, Illya lost his whip. Li struck with his knife. Illya evaded, and nearly rode Li off the field.

  The contest went on up and down the field in the valley.

  Solo watched the Mongol leader. The leader was studying the battle intently.

  Then, suddenly, Li had Illya backed to the edge of the field, slipping half off his pony, unable to control the pony. All Li had to do was ride hard and Illya would be beaten. The two horses were side to side. Illya was helpless.

  But Li did not push Illya off the field. Instead, the THRUSH agent raised his knife and slashed a killing blow at the helpless U.N.C.L.E. agent.

  The blow only grazed Illya, and in that instant his pony slipped out of the trap and Illya regained control and rode off still on the field.

  But Illya had lost his knife. Now the contest took a different turn. Li, his face split in a vicious grin, ceased to try to force Illya off the field, or unseat him. Instead he made attack after attack with his knife.

  Li wanted to kill Illya.

  Instead of forcing the U.N.C.L.E. agent toward the edges of the field, he inexorably attacked in the center, all his efforts on a kill, his eyes blazing with hatred and triumph as he stalked his unarmed victim.

  All around the field the Mongols began to mutter. The contest was going on longer than they would have allowed. With the knife, Li had all the advantage in forcing Illya from the field.

  The Mongols muttered, “The horse! The horse!”

  Solo realized that what they would have done was kill or cripple the horse of the unarmed Illya and so make him fall and the contest would be over.

  But Li continued to attack Illya.

  Until, suddenly, Kuryakin broke away and rode fast in a straight line, leaned down below his horse at full speed, and retrieved his knife!

  Reigning in, he turned to face the infuriated Li.

  Li rode at full tilt. The horses collided. Li slashed at Illya. The U.N.C.L.E. agent grasped his opponent, and suddenly both fell to the ground.

  The ponies galloped off. The Mongols raised a wild shout. The leader stood and raised his arm. It was a signal that the contest was over.

  “Stop!” the leader commanded.

  Men rushed out and separated the contestants. Illya stood away, his knife at his side.

  Li broke from the Mongols that held him and ran at Illya, his knife raise, aimed at Illya’s heart.

  “Stop him!” the leader commanded.

  The Mongols swarmed over Li and held him.

  The Mongol leader approached both men. He looked from one to the other.

  “The contest is over. You have both lost!”

  “Or won,” Illya Kuryakin said quietly. “No,” the leader said, “you have both lost. That is
our way. You have the right to say what will be done with each other. Chinese?”

  “Kill him!” Dr. Li said, panting.

  The leader watched Dr. Li. “You know that if you say kill, he will say kill. You will both die! You know that Chinese man?”

  “Yes. I say you must kill him. He would destroy China!”

  The leader turned to Illya. “And you, Russian?”

  “Hold him here until I can show you that I speak the truth. I will return to the Chinese base, and tell them what I know he has done, and when they tell you he is a liar, that he will start a big war, then you will know who is right.”

  “You wish us to return with you? Hear what you say, and what the other Chinese say? You do not wish him killed?”

  “His death is not important. What he has done is,” Illya said. “He wishes me dead to hide the truth, even if he must die himself.”

  The leader was silent. The Mongols waited. Then the leader motioned. He pointed to Dr. Li.

  “Kill him! Kill all his party!”

  Dr. Li paled. “No! You fool, no! Can’t you see, you stupid ape, that this man is lying, I am your friend! I---“

  The leader stared at Li.

  You are an expert horseman. Why did you not win? Why did you try to kill this man and not just win? Why did you not kill his horse? You could have won, but you wanted to kill him”

  “I---“ Li began, and the sudden fear in his eyes showed that he had realized his mistake.

  The leader spoke again. Only now, suddenly, the stocky Mongol Chief spoke in English!

  “Do you think because I wear skins I am a fool? Do you think I believe in trial by combat and the Gods?” the chief laughed. “I have studied in Moscow and Peking. I have been to London! I speak ten languages. My people are a simple people, but to lead them I knew I must be with the times. To keep our simple life, I had to learn the ways of the modern world.

  You wanted this man dead because you feared he might make me believe him, that something might happen that would make me believe him. So then he is telling the truth. If he were a liar, you would not fear his words, as he does not fear your words!”

  The leader laughed, spoke again in English, his people watching him but not understanding what he said. “My people believe the old ways and the old Gods. Good. They do not know that I do not believe. But it is very clear that you, Dr. Li, are the liar. You are willing to die as long as this man and his companion die too! The only reason you would have for that is that he is telling me the truth, and your plan is ready, and others can carry it on for you!

  “You fear what these men tell me. You want them dead at any price. They do not want you dead, they want your plan stopped. Therefore, they are telling me the truth!”

  There was silence as the chief stopped speaking. Then the chief motioned again and spoke in his own language.

  “This man is the liar. He could have won, but he wanted the words of his opponent stopped. Therefore, it is his opponent who told us the truth. Is that not so?”

  The Mongols all nodded.

  “Take them and kill them all!” the chief commanded.

  Still struggling, Li and the others were dragged away. The chief turned to Illya and Solo.

  “We will go with you. Tell us how to stop the plans of that man!”

  “Do you have to kill them?” Illya said.

  The chief looked at Illya. “It is our way. Are they not murderers? Would they not die in your country?”

  “Yes, they would, but---“ Solo said.

  “A trial? Yes, but in our law they have had their trial. They have convicted themselves. Now come. We will help you. We, too, do not want a war. We want peace. Peace to live our lives in our own way. Can you stop these men?”

  “With your help,” Illya said.

  “Then we go now,” the leader said.

  The stocky Mongol turned on his heel and walked away. His sub-leaders followed him. Already his Mongol warriors were preparing for battle.

  FOUR

  Illya and Solo lay on the rim of the bowl-shaped valley above the Chinese missile site and looked down in the afternoon sun. Illya pointed.

  “There, those silver objects---they are the nuclear warheads,” Illya Kuryakin said to the chief.

  “They are not yet on the missiles,” the chief said in English. The chief has told them to speak only English. He did not want his people to know how much he knew of the strange modern world they hated.

  “One is,” Solo said, and pointed.

  The two U.N.C.L.E. agents looked at each other. Were they too late? One of the rockets was ready, programmed by Dr. Li to fall on Russia or Peking!

  “If we try a straight attack,” the Mongol chief said, “will they not fire it before we can stop them?”

  “They will,” Solo said, and looked at Illya. “Maxine Trent is down there. She’ll fire it if we attack.”

  “Then we can’t attack until we can stop her, Napoleon,” Illya said. “We’ll have to get down there.”

  “With all those men?” Solo said.

  All around the giant missile men worked and soldiers paced on the alert. “Maxine knows that something’s happened to Li,” Solo said. “She’ll be ready.”

  “We’ll have to risk it, Napoleon. I must get into the control room and sabotage the launch mechanism,” Illya said.

  The Mongol chief spoke. “We will not attack, but we will appear. We will ride down and threaten the base from the south. They have many men. We will lose the element of surprise, but the risk must be taken. When we ride down and appear, it will divert them, and you can slip in.

  “You will do what you have to, and then we will await your signal to attack. When we attack, they will fire their missile. It will fail, and the threat will end.”

  Illya and Solo glanced at each other. “Many of your people will die, Chief,” Solo said.

  “We are not afraid to die. We are only one band; our people are many. A great war will harm all. We do what must be done.”

  Without another word the stocky Mongol leader turned and walked away toward where his men waited on their fiery ponies below the mountain.

  Illya and Solo began to work their way carefully downward among the rocks. When they reached the bottom, they moved to the edge of the open space on the floor of the valley and waited. Illya pointed to the weak place in the barbed wire fence they had cut when they escaped earlier, and had pieced back together so that it had not been found.

  “When we see the way clear, we go through there,” Illya said. “We work around to the left behind the buildings and vehicles. At the control room, I’ll get inside; you watch outside. Once I’m in we won’t hide any more. I won’t need more than a few seconds.”

  “Right,” Solo said. “Will we have time to get out?”

  “I hope so, Napoleon.”

  Solo stared across the open space. “Yes, I hope so.”

  Then they saw the workers and soldiers on the base suddenly begin to run toward the south. The Mongol warriors were defiling from the mountains out onto the valley floor. They brandished their weapons, and formed a great mass on their wild ponies.

  On the nuclear base everyone was shouting now. The workers and soldiers grabbed their weapons and ran toward the southern perimeter.

  “Now,” Illya called out.

  The two agents sprinted out across the open space. They were at the fence in seconds, and through the fence. Inside they ran left and around among the buildings and masses of vehicles readying the missile pads. They reached the control room unseen. Solo crouched, his pistol ready. Illya slipped inside the building.

  Napoleon Solo waited in the shadow of the control building.

  There was firing to the south---the Chinese were firing. Solo heard nothing from the Mongols. He could imagine the small warriors just sitting their horses, while the Chinese could not figure what was happening.

  Inside the control building he heard sudden shots. Solo waited. There were no more shots inside the control buildin
g. Two men appeared around the corner of the building. They were Chinese security men. They saw Solo too late. The agent cut them both down with two shots from his pistol.

  He waited.

  The firing had increased at the south perimeter. But still the Mongols did not return the fire.

  Then Solo saw her---Maxine Trent.

  Still in her Albanian uniform, the beautiful THRUSH leader came running across the open ground toward the control building. She was not alone. Four other Europeans in civilian clothes were with her---THRUSH men.

  Solo readied to fire---and Maxine saw him in the same moment. She opened her mouth, shouted, and dove to the ground.

  Solo fired. Two of the THRUSH men were too slow in going down. Now they went down and would not get up. Maxine crawled behind a crate, her pistol out.

  Illya Kuryakin came running from the control building. He had blood on his arm.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Illya Kuryakin shouted, and dashed off to the nearest building.

  Solo needed no second invitation. The two agents raced back by the same route in the cover of buildings and trucks. Maxine and her men ran after them. Other soldiers appeared now, joined Maxine in pursuit.

  Then Solo looked back as they reached the fence. Maxine has stopped. Solo saw her stare toward himself and Illya, and then back at the control room.

  Solo had no more time to look. He dove through the fence behind Illya. Barbed wire ripped his arm. Bullets kicked dirt all around them. The air was alive with wasp-like sounds as the pursuers fired at them

  Then they were in the rocks and climbing. Behind them the soldiers and THRUSH men were still following. They reached the crest of the hill.

  Illya took out a tiny grenade and threw it. The explosion rocked their pursuers. It was also the signal to the Mongols.

  There was a great shout to the south, and instantly the firing increased and rolled across the valley in a massive attack.

  The soldiers pursuing Illya and Solo turned and ran back down to their threatened base.

  Illya and Solo stopped and looked back down the hill to the base.

  They had a clear view.

  The battle to the south rose in intensity. The Mongols were taking heavy punishment in their direct assault, but they were pushing into the base through sure force of numbers.