[Magazine 1966-06] - The Vanishing Act Affair - Lynds Dennis. Страница 12
"Into the old tunnels and corridors. There are new corridors, but I think we can find a way through."
"Stay here," Solo said.
The agent inched along the stone ledge to the old door. It was rusted and locked, but there was a trace of oil around the lock. The door had been used. Solo took out a small strip of what looked like foil and stuck it to the door next to the lock. The foil was self adhesive. Solo polled a small metallic thread and jumped back.
The foil burst into an intense white heat. The door glowed around the lock, melted, and when the white hot glow died away in the dark sewer, a gaping hole had appeared in the metal around the lock. Solo stepped forward and pushed the door open. He motioned to Maxine.
Together, Solo and Maxine stepped through the door and into a short stone tunnel that led to a flight of stone steps going upward. Carefully, they moved up the stairs in the pitch dark. The steps did not go far, and came out in a low room that stank of slime and ancient decay.
They crossed the low room and went through an archway into another low stone room. The second room was low but vast, its corners hidden in the dark. Solo flicked on his ring flashlight. The ultra-powerful beam picked out all the corners of the vast room.
Rusted metal rings hung from the walls; rusted metal cages littered the floor. Spikes that had once been sharp protruded out from the walls. There was a cauldron and a brazier all turned to dust at Solo's touch. What had once been skeletons lay on the floor, nothing now but white dust.
"Things don't change much," Solo said. "It reminds me of a Thrush headquarters."
"Ah, ah, Napoleon dear. Remember, we're partners; speak nicely about us," Maxine said.
"I'd rather speak nicely about how we're going to get out of here," Solo said, his powerful miniature light playing around the walls. "I don't see any way out, and no one's been in here for centuries. There must be another way in; that door had been oiled."
"Then we better find it," Maxine said.
They turned and retraced their steps to the smaller stone room. As they passed out of the vast room into the smaller one, Solo suddenly crouched and pulled Maxine down. His U.N.C.L.E. Special was out. Maxine held her pistol.
Something moved along the right wall of the smaller room. Solo and Maxine waited, watched. His light out, Solo crouched with his Special trained on the wall. A Stone moved, a large stone.
The stone fell into the room.
Someone, a figure, came through the hole in the wall. A second figure followed. The two figures turned to replace the stone.
Solo switched on his miniature flashlight ring.
The two strangers dove for the floor.
Solo and Maxine shone the light directly on the two and stepped forward with their weapons.
* * *
DEEP beneath the city of London, in a large, soundproof room lined with thick sheets of lead, the twelve men sat at the long table and watched their leader. They were all deformed, disfigured men, and their leader was Morlock The Great.
The tiny magician stood before a great map of the world. His thin, delicate hands swept an arc in the air that took in the whole world and the many red pins on the map. His eyes gleamed in his large head.
"They are all completed. We are ready. We will not wait now."
"And Kuryakin?" one of the men at the table said.
"He does not matter. He and Dabori cannot escape from her," Morlock said.
"Dabori perhaps has found a way. I never trusted him," another man said.
"It does not matter!" Morlock said. "If they escape it will be too late. We know they have not yet escaped. I am telling the Inner Council, you men, that the day is at hand! We move—tonight!"
The twelve men at the table looked at each other, and their eyes glowed like the eyes of their leader. Morlock The Great laughed a diabolical laugh that filled the large room where the Inner Council of the Brotherhood held their secret meetings.
"They all want to stop us, but they will not!" Morlock said. "After tomorrow the prophecy will be fulfilled—we will inherit the whole Earth!"
Excitement ran through the room like an electric current. The members of the Inner Council began to talk, to congratulate their chief. Suddenly, there was a low buzz and a light over the single door began to blink. Morlock pressed a button.
"Yes?" the tiny magician said.
"Report strangers entering the old vaults from the sewer!"
"How many?" Morlock snapped.
"Two, sir. The detector shows that they are armed."
"Very well. Deal with them!" Morlock snapped, and then said, "No, wait. I will come and deal with them myself."
The midget switched off his communicator. His satanic features twisted into a crazy grin as he surveyed the members of his Inner Council.
"As a precaution, we will find out who they are and what they know. But, whoever they are, they will not stop us now. Tonight, gentlemen! Tonight the morlocks take over the world, as predicted long ago!"
In the large, secret room far below the great city, there was a savage shout from all the leaders of the Cult
* * *
AS HE stepped toward the two figures on the old stones, Napoleon Solo grinned. But he didn't feel as happy as he looked.
"Really, Illya, you look silly lying there," Solo said.
Illya raised his head. The small Russian stood up and dusted himself off.
"What took you so long, Napoleon?"
"I was delayed," Solo said, "but I brought a friend. Step forward, Maxine."
Maxine Trent came into the light of the tiny ring flashlight. The beautiful Thrush agent smiled at Illya.
The blond U.N.C.L.E. agent raised an eyebrow.
"A friend, Napoleon?"
"In this case, apparently," Solo said, and explained the details of Thrush's participation in the affair.
"It should be an interesting experience," Illya said as he eyed Maxine from under his lowered brows. "I, too, have a friend. Paul Dabori is the man who sent the warning to Interpol."
Illya recounted his experiences and the four of them squatted in the dark, the light out now, to plan their next move. Solo rubbed his chin.
"Atom bomb shelters," Solo said slowly.
"That explains why the house in Salisbury was so empty. A bomb shelter underneath it," Maxine said.
But Solo was not listening. He was rubbing his chin, thinking. Now he looked at Illya and the morlock, Paul Dabori. The hunchback waited eagerly to see what he could do.
"Atom bomb shelters," Solo said again, "and robberies for money to stock them, probably. And hallucinations that make men think they are being attacked."
Illya nodded. "Are you thinking the same thing, Napoleon?"
"When you had the hallucination," Solo said, "you thought Thrush was attacking you."
"The enemy most on my mind," Illya said. "Yes. And those armored car guards thought they were being robbed—what was most on their mind."
"And the Cult believes that they will survive while the rest of the world goes under," Solo said.
There was a silence, and it was Maxine Trent who finally spoke. Maxine had listened, and now she spoke.
"And they have built atom bomb shelters. So it is clear that Morlock The Great intends to help his Cult survive. He doesn't intend to wait, he's going to make the atom bombs drop!"
Illya sighed. "It looks very much that way. I'm afraid that rather than wait for us to kill each other off, he's going to help us—by starting an atomic war!"