Microbes of Power (Wallace of the Secret Service Series)

by Alexander Wilson

  ‘Danger! The police here!’ he repeated; became silent, as though debating the point. ‘Then, my comrades, there is no time to be lost,’ he decided, at last, in a shrill, excited voice. ‘They will not be able to die of my virus, which is a great pity. But no matter, their deaths will be very painful and, at the same time, we will be rid of the other bodies.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ demanded Plasiras, shaking him in his agitation.

  Kyprianos pushed the Greek away.

  ‘Wait! You will see,’ he cried, and darted from the room.

  While he was absent, the four remaining men spoke together in uneasy whispers. Bikelas once turned to Thalia, and asked her who it was she had declared was arranging for their arrest by the police. She merely smiled enigmatically, telling him he would know soon enough. Threats, pleas, even promises of liberty failed to obtain more from her. Plasiras held a revolver to her head, and declared he would shoot her there and then, if she did not tell them all she knew.

  ‘As well one way of dying as another, Ivan Plasiras,’ she replied with amazing coolness. ‘I have said quite enough; besides, I do not know more than I have told you, except that his name would terrify you if you heard it.’

  At that moment Kyprianos returned to the room cackling with excited delight.

  ‘It is done,’ he told his companions ‘the holocaust has commenced. Come! We will depart while there is yet time.’

  They crowded round him with cries of alarm and excitement.

  ‘What is it? What have you done?’ demanded Bikelas, losing for once his smooth, silky manner of enunciation.

  ‘What have I done!’ echoed the Cypriot in a high, gleeful voice. ‘I have set fire to the room where I lived. It is burning fiercely. Soon the flames will spread; the body there will be burnt to ashes; then the fire will creep, creep, creep, until this suite also is in flames, and these three people are burnt – slowly – to – death.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  From the Flames

  Cries of horror rose involuntarily from the two Englishmen, who were thinking not of themselves but of Thalia. The conspirators took no heed of them. They were far too agitated to spare a thought for anybody but themselves. They upbraided Kyprianos for his madness, cursing and swearing in their terror and dismay. Plasiras abruptly gripped Bikelas by the arm.

  ‘Come, quickly!’ he cried, ‘or our escape will be cut off.’

  ‘What of the police?’

  ‘We must risk them. You do not want to be burnt to death, do you?’

  They ran together from the room, followed by the equally terrified Padakis and Michalis. Shannon roared after them fiercely to save the girl, but they did not even spare her a backward glance. Kyprianos stood to gloat over them for a few moments; then, picking up their revolvers and Thalia’s automatic, he, too, followed. He closed and locked the sitting room door, and, a moment later, they heard the front door bang. A deadly silence fell on the flat. Thalia broke it.

  ‘Please forgive me for being so foolish,’ she begged. ‘I should have been more on the alert for the kind of trick played by that devil.’

  ‘Good Lord! You’ve nothing to reproach yourself for,’ commented Shannon in tones of real admiration. ‘You’ve been fine, wonderful!’

  ‘Marvellous!’ added Hill. ‘How did you know they were here, Thalia?’

  ‘When I left you,’ she related, ‘I returned to find that everyone had packed in a great hurry. I was told to do the same. No explanation was given to me, and I thought I had better not ask too much. Also I thought it would be good to go with them, so that I could afterwards let you know. I wrote a quick letter, opened wide the window that your attention would be drawn to it, if you came to search for me, and put the letter in a flower pot. The baggage was taken away down the fire escape from the bathroom window, which also goes up by the bathroom window of Kyprianos’ flat. I could not take much; the hurry was too great. I think the action of Kyprianos in putting the sickness into the secretary had frightened them greatly. We went out to a little bungalow only five minutes away. There Madame Bikelas, who was weeping, and I were put into a room together. I did not go to bed; I was too much anxious. I was called after many hours, told what Kyprianos had discovered about Raymond and questioned – oh, most unmercifully. I pretended to be broken-hearted at what they told me, and convinced them that I was innocent. But they locked me in a room alone, and did not realise that I could hear through the wall the plans they were making. When they had gone, I tried to get out, but, for a long time, I could not. At last Madame Bikelas heard me. She came, and unlocked the door, not knowing that I had been shut in for a purpose. I did not wait to give her any explanation, but came quickly here. And all for nothing it seems.’ Then that amazing girl smiled at Hill – a wonderful, courageous smile. ‘I can, at least, die with you, my Raymond, and with you, my friend Hugh.’

  Both men felt suddenly very humble in the presence of such sublime courage. There was not a trace of fear in her countenance and manner. Faced with a terrible, cruel death, she was displaying a fortitude that was beyond description. All the time she was speaking, Shannon and Hill were fighting desperately to release themselves from their bonds, but the more they struggled the tighter they seemed to become. Repeatedly they shouted for help, singly and together, but were either not heard, or the other people in the building were too concerned about their own safety to take heed.

  ‘You are not going to die, Thalia,’ vowed Hugh, ‘if we can help it.’

  They quickly became conscious that the fire was bearing down on them. It must have obtained a rapid hold on the other suite. Momentarily the room in which they were imprisoned grew hotter, until it was almost unbearable. It was certain that before long the wall between the two flats would crash down; then! The two men looked at each other with horrified eyes, the perspiration running in streams down their faces. Each felt they must save Thalia somehow, but second by second the hope grew fainter. If they had not been locked in that apartment, they might have hopped to the dining room, and while one held a knife between his teeth, the other could have rubbed the thongs binding his wrists to and fro on the edge, until he was free.

  Despairing of breaking loose – Shannon, in his herculean efforts, knew he had opened afresh two of his wounds – the big Secret Service man shuffled across to the door, and threw himself repeatedly against it in an endeavour to burst it open. It was strongly constructed, however, and, with arms, knees, and ankles bound together, he was unable to put anything like full physical force into his exertions. Hill hopped across to his assistance, and together they tried. Shannon lost his balance and fell. It took him several precious minutes to accomplish the difficult task of regaining his feet, but he succeeded, when the others felt it was hopeless for him to try. He noticed then, with a thrill of horror, that the wall was cracking; fissures began to appear, growing larger every second. Giving one great despairing effort which seemed to be tearing the muscles of his arms to shreds, he felt the thongs round his wrists give a little, and cried out with joy. Gathering himself together for one stupendous endeavour, he put all the strength he could muster into wrenching his hands apart. A terrific strain, another; then the thongs were suddenly split asunder. Thalia gave a little cry of joy and amazement. Even in that hour of stress she was able to wonder at the mighty strength that had accomplished such a feat.

  The attention of them all was drawn with consternation to the wall, part of which, at that moment, crashed in, leaving a gap, through which shot a great, hungry flame, scorching them with its savage heat. Shannon’s hands were far too numbed to allow him to make an attempt at undoing either the bonds of his companions or those round his own ankles. He concentrated his attention on the door, therefore, being able to get more force into his plunges against it. It continued to withstand the repeated shocks, however, while more and more of the wall crumbled in. Volumes of smoke choked them, great crackling flames darted nearer and nearer. Part of Thalia’s flimsy dress caught fire, but, with a cry of a
gony, Hill threw himself against her as she now crouched by the door. His action put out the flame, but they both fell over. Shannon bent, and lifted them up. Pictures, carpet, chairs were now blazing fiercely. It seemed to them the end, and their eyes looked mutely, tragically into those of each other. It was at that terrible moment that, above the roar of the flames, they heard a voice, followed by a pounding on the door.

  ‘Anyone there?’ came in Sir Leonard’s well-known tones. It is impossible to describe their joy. As with one voice they cried out to denote their presence. ‘Key’s gone,’ he shouted back. ‘Stand away from the lock, I’m going to blow it in.’

  Shannon drew Thalia to him, Hill crouched by his side.

  ‘All clear,’ roared the former.

  There came two deafening reverberations, the second following so quickly on the first that they sounded practically as one. The door was flung open, and Sir Leonard, standing there, revolver in hand, took in the situation at a glance. He lifted Thalia in his one arm as easily as though she had been a child; carried her quickly away from the flames. Shannon and Hill hopped along after them. Placing the girl in a chair, Wallace went hurriedly in search of a knife, found one, and quickly cut away their bonds. He then hustled them from the burning flat. They only escaped just in time. Outside, they found a good deal of the corridor blazing, completely cutting off their descent by the stairs. Their only hope rested in the elevators, though the space between was already on fire. However, they got across safely, each of the men keeping a watchful eye on Thalia’s dress. There a great shock awaited them. They had hardly reached the doors, when the electric system failed. Useless now to expect to escape in an elevator. It was a weird, fearsome scene; tongues of flame lighting up the darkness with a vivid, terrifying light; clouds of smoke rolling round them, choking them, causing the burning tears to run from their eyes.

  ‘There’s only one thing for it,’ snapped Sir Leonard, who had examined the elevator shafts to discover that both lifts were below them, thus barring the way. ‘We’ll have to climb up. You first, Shannon, with Thalia. You’d better carry her over your shoulder to save time.’

  ‘I think I can climb,’ she observed quietly.

  Thalia found at that moment that, when Sir Leonard gave an order, it was obeyed without question. Her remark was ignored. Shannon hoisted her on his shoulder, as though she were a kitten, passed through the doorway, and commenced to climb up the shaft. Hill was ordered to follow him, Wallace bringing up the rear. Halfway up, Thalia gave a little exclamation of horror.

  ‘Oh, the poor Sir Leonard!’ she cried. ‘How can he climb with but one hand to use?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ comforted Shannon; ‘he can manage with that one as well as I can with two.’

  Nevertheless, she waited anxiously on the next floor when Hugh set her down; smiled gladly at the coming of Hill, but with marked relief as Sir Leonard appeared directly after him.

  ‘I was afraid for you,’ she said softly, patting the artificial arm.

  The darkness hid his frown – one of Sir Leonard’s few weaknesses is that he is sensitive about the false member. He hates any compassionate references to it – but he was soon smiling with admiration.

  ‘Have you no nerves, young woman?’ he asked.

  ‘She has no thought or fear for herself, sir, at all,’ put in Shannon. ‘Her anxieties are all for others.’

  ‘And to think,’ commented Wallace, ‘that I was once led to believe that you were cruel, heartless, and self-centred! What a fool I was! Come on! The fire hasn’t broken through to this floor, but it soon will. We’re not out of the wood yet by any means.’

  Thalia took his arm, and they hastened together to the stairs, and up to the fourth and last floor, the others following them. The roar of the flames below was not so loud or terrifying up there. They thought to hear a faraway, confused murmur of many excited voices, the clang of bells. Apparently fire engines were on the scene.

  ‘Have all the other people escaped?’ asked Thalia, as Sir Leonard hurried her along a corridor to the end of the building.

  ‘Yes; I think so,’ he replied.

  It was his intention to descend with his companions by means of a fire escape at the rear of the building, which he had noticed during his investigations. It was farthest away from the burning part of the house and, therefore, the safest. The other, running down past the bathroom of the flat that had been occupied by Kyprianos, was out of the question. A good deal of it was probably, by that time, a mass of twisted metal.

  They had almost reached their objective when, from behind, came a tearing, rending, altogether terrifying sound. The faces of the three men paled; their lips set more firmly. They knew what had happened. The centre of the building had caved in. If the fire escape was impassable, their condition would have become desperate again. Shannon, at a word from Wallace, flung open the window at the end of the corridor. Outside were the iron steps descending to the ground and safety. Sir Leonard glanced down. Dawn had broken, but, under ordinary circumstances, it would have been too dark to have seen much. As it was, the fire supplied a fearsome illumination. A tongue of flame was licking hungrily from a window below.

  ‘Hurry! You first, Thalia,’ he cried.

  She obeyed at once, being helped through the window on to the escape. Hill went next; then Shannon; Sir Leonard insisted upon going last. Thalia had reached the danger spot, and Hill was guiding her by, when, with a great crack, part of the wall fell in, tilting the section of the ladder on which was the girl over at an acute angle. To the intense horror of the men following her, she was thrown through the gap down into what appeared a raging furnace. Hill gave a great cry of anguish and, at imminent peril of following her, leant inwards. Almost at once he had drawn back, was looking up, the flickering light showing an expression of hope on his face.

  ‘She is lying across a rafter not more than six feet down,’ he cried. ‘I’m going after her.’

  ‘Don’t be a fool!’ snapped Shannon huskily. ‘She can’t be alive in that – you’ll go too.’

  ‘She is, I tell you. She’s lying between two separate fires. I can get her, before she’s—’

  He said no more, but started to climb into the very maw of the hungry flames. Shannon grasped his arm, and drew him back, whereupon he tried fiercely to shake off the grip, at the imminent risk of precipitating them all into the furnace. The fire escape swayed drunkenly.

  ‘Let him go,’ shouted Wallace. ‘Hold him by his ankles. If he goes down head first, he might be able to reach.’

  There took place perhaps one of the most thrilling rescues it is possible to imagine. Crowds of people were now watching below, and they were dumbfounded by the spectacle they witnessed. A man being lowered head first, literally into the heart of the flames, by another, whose mighty form, shown up luridly by the fierce flickering light below, looked more than human. One leg twined round the uneven ladder to give him a grip, he was bent inwards, holding Hill’s ankles at the extreme limit of his reach. His face scorching, his hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes sizzling he saw, through the smoke and flame, Hill’s hands clasp the girl. Exerting his colossal strength, Sir Leonard assisting as best he could, he commenced to raise them together from the inferno. Gradually he was able to move his grip from Hill’s ankles to his thighs; then to his waist. At last, with a final great effort, he lifted them to safety. Thalia’s clothing was almost burnt from her body, yet she appeared little injured herself; Hill was in a worse condition than she. Wallace quickly removed his jacket, wrapping it round her. They got her past the danger point, Shannon carrying her in his arms.

  ‘It was a miracle,’ he heard her murmur, as she fainted dead away.

  Wallace assisted Hill and, at last, they reached safety. Willing hands relieved Shannon of his precious burden. Some kindly soul hurried up with a blanket, which was wrapped round the girl, Sir Leonard’s jacket being returned to him. She was carried into a neighbouring house, Hill going with her, where a doctor was immediately in att
endance on them. Wallace and Shannon were surrounded by an excited, applauding crowd. It was publicity of a kind they did not desire, but they could not very well avoid it. They were grateful for the fact that the police, who had arrived on the scene, were too busy to spare time just then to ask awkward questions. Eventually they escaped from their admirers – Shannon, of course, was the real object of the hero-worship – by joining Thalia and Hill in the house to which they had been taken.

  They found the man and girl alone. She had long since recovered from her faint, and was now lying on a couch, one of her arms swathed in bandages. She looked little the worse otherwise for her terrible experience. Hill was sitting by her side. His head and right hand were bandaged, while his eyebrows and eyelashes had been burnt off. He rose quickly to his feet, as Sir Leonard and Shannon entered the room. Thalia greeted them with one of her glorious smiles, her lips, as scarlet as ever, parting to show the two even rows of dazzling white teeth. Shannon wondered how it was that her beautiful hair, her eyebrows, her long, curling lashes had escaped being ravaged by the flames that had licked round her, as she lay, suspended on a rafter, over the roaring furnace beneath. She held out her unbandaged hand to him. He took it very gently.

  ‘How can I say to you all that I feel, Hugh,’ she murmured softly. ‘I have not the words, and my heart is so much full that it is not easy to speak. To you, and to my Raymond, I owe my life. The good God has been very kind to me to forgive me for that which is past, and to give me three such brave and wonderful friends. First Sir Leonard saved us all from the burning room; then, when I am so stupid as to fall from the ladder, Raymond comes down marvellously to grasp me. But without your wonderful strength, Hugh, he could not have saved me. Without you I would now be ashes.’ Shannon began to protest in an embarrassed manner. ‘No, no,’ she cried, ‘please do not rob me of all I can do – that is to say, “thank you” from my soul.’