The Final Affair: A Man From U.N.C.L.E Novel

by David McDaniel

  “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 for
ever —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.

  bulking against flame-lashed clouds of smoke behind which hidden armies clashed. it stood like a besieged tower of dark sorceries in some legendary war. Then another mortar shell blasted its flank. and white stone fragments flew.

  “Yeah.. they lead to a lock like an ignition switch on a car.”

  “Any numbers on it?”

  “None. Hey, how’s your room holding up? It sounds like you’re taking a beating back there.”

  “I can’t tell. It’s still dark. But I think part of the ceiling came down a few minutes ago.”

  “Is Joan okay?”

  “She’s just fine. Right here. holding the phone for me. There should be two more wires coming out of that lock, one off the right side and one off the bottom.”

  “I can’t get at the back of the lock — it’s set into a welded box.

  Two other wires come out together, twisted around each other. One’s yellow and green, one’s purple and white.”

  “Where do they go?”

  “Down inside. I can’t see where. Into the casing, I think.”

  There was a long silence. broken bya shuddering blast somewhere above them and the hysterical chatter of machine gun fire. Another blast punched down the hall outside and shook the door in its frame.

  “Illya? There’s these two wires…”

  Illya took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Okay. Napoleon. Cut one of them.”

  “Check.”

  Raduysya Mariye, blagodati poliaya, Gospod s’t’voyu; blagoslovyenna ti mezhdu zhenami i blagoslovyen’ plod’ chryeva tvoyevo Iisus’. Svyataya Mariye, matyer’ Bozhi, ya moli o nas’ gruishnikh’ ninui i v’ chas’ smyerti nashyey.