Chapter 12

"Chicken Feathers!"

SOLO LET a full hour pass lolling in the shade with Galaxy. Half of his mind enjoyed her languorous company, her soft hair, her pliant body; the other half kept track of his watch. One hour. Illya should have completed his prowling by now. He broke up the tender moment by shifting so Galaxy's head couldn't rest on his shoulder.

"You look like a man about to depart," Galaxy said softly.

"I can't spend the whole day dallying, love."

"Duty calls?"

"Not duty. Common sense calls."

"But it's been so nice."

Solo stood up, brushing the dust from his suit. "A piece of advice - get back to New York and start dancing. You're depriving a world full of lonely men."

She laughed, but it was short, interrupted by the tread of hurried steps. Mr. Saturn came around the corner of the barn, his thin face red. He stopped quickly, blanched, and recovered himself. "Galaxy! Are you still showing Mr. Solo the wonders of farm life? You might have known I'd need you."

Galaxy got up, the languor gone. "For what? I won't help clean up the barn. That's not what I was hired for."

"The luncheon supplies, my dear. It's already late. Come now, Galaxy. Right away." Saturn sent a message of haste with his caricature eyebrows.

Galaxy grimaced, squeezed Solo's hand, whispered a farewell, and left obediently.

Solo grinned. "Bravo, Mr. Saturn. You've found the way to out-argue a woman! You should write a book."

"I'm in a bit of a hurry, Mr. Solo, if you don't mind. And I'd prefer to have the theater locked when I leave."

"Right." Solo bowed slightly. "I'm on my way." Saturn was nervous, almost wary of him, but he didn't want to press the point now. He started off on a course that would take him around the barn.

"Come back through the way you came, please," Saturn told him. "I have the terrible sense of you trespassing out here while I'm innocently busy."

Solo obeyed, too, as Galaxy had. He followed the tall man inside, and at the foot of the loft ladder, halted. "I can see the open door from here. You go on with your shopping trip and I'll get out of your way."

Saturn watched Solo walk across the board stage and down the hill, then he climbed the ladder. At the last of Saturn's hurried shuffle, Solo spun around and sped back into the barn, running the length of it, keeping his feet to the straw patches for silence. He came to the underground door he wanted to investigate. From the loft he could hear voices, but gathered no words. There were four voices up there, not just Galaxy and Saturn.

Cautiously, he tested the door. Locked. He examined the lock and it was as he expected - new and tamper-proof. He'd have to burn it off. It would be a dead give away to the next Thrush who walked by that U.N.C.L.E. was present on this farm, but Mr. Waverly had ordered haste, so perhaps it was time to make their presence known.

He crept back to the ladder, where he could pick up words from the loft. Saturn was urging Galaxy to hurry, and talking to another man he called Barber. One of them was pacing up and down, clomping on the floor.

Saturn finished his instructions to Galaxy. "Take one of the cars and while away some time in the stores, or give the local boys a thrill. Then buy the supplies and get back here."

"Why can't Barber go?" she asked.

"Because you know what he likes, and I need Barber here. Now hurry, woman. Dress! I have important things to do."

"Don't order me about, Saturn. I did my part. I kept Solo occupied for a full hour. You're the one who failed. You didn't take him."

"Because you didn't signal me that he was still here and I didn't bring enough men. There he was, and there I was - alone. All I could do was see to it that he left. He won't have time to bother us now, and I have so much to prepare here yet. Hurry. Please."

So, they knew already. It made no difference then what Solo did to the door. He returned to it and began working, using a heat plastic around the lock and the knob, avoiding explosives. He frowned as he worked. Galaxy was in with Thrush, after all. Her lipstick was still red on his cheek, but she had been stalling him as he had been stalling her. She was a better actress than she knew, because he had believed her when she brushed off his baited question about Thrush. That was the only consolation with Thrush. Their women were usually very special to look at and very adept at casual love. Soft lips and cold hearts.

He pressed the plastic in place and stood aside while he activated the mechanism on his watch to trigger the heat process. It began with a glow and ended with a flaming hiss. It was done. The door was free. He hit the door and stumbled down some steps to the underground room. It was totally dark. There was no window to even suggest the hot July sun that raged outside.

For a short moment, Solo stood still, grabbed to his right and clutched a table. The darkness was total, and deep. He pushed back his shoulders, drew a breath, and let go of the table. He wouldn't give in to any of that!

He took out his pencil flash. Seeing the room in small, lighted sections was odd, but showed him what he needed. This room was a laboratory, all right. And it was completely empty. Whatever it had manufactured or bubbled in test tubes had been carted away.

He inched his way back to the steps and voices from the barn froze him by the door. The group was down out of the loft. He heard murmurings, but again no clear words. The soundproofing down here was too good. He edged the door open a tiny crack and listened.

The voice he recalled as belonging to Barber said, "Solo's car is still outside. So where is Solo?"

"It wasn't his car," Galaxy answered. "It belonged to the Piper girl. Maybe he decided to leave it for her."

"We have no time to hunt for him," Saturn said. "Leave someone to guard the barn. We must get going!"

The arrangements were quickly made and Solo heard three people bang over the stage boards on their way out. Somewhere in the barn was a man with a gun, waiting for him to show himself.

He might outwait him. He closed the door and sat in the dark, figuring. He didn't dare call Illya. Too many times the pocket transceivers beeped at the wrong moment and gave everything away. He'd leave Illya alone. Give them all ten minutes to clear the area and he could take the one-man guard easily. He hoped. He made himself comfortable, pulled out his gun, and attached the silencer.

Ten minutes weren't enough. His lone guard was joined by more men, just a drone of voices and occasional footsteps above him. Luckily they didn't come near the lab door, but they had him neatly boxed without being aware of it. The odds were too great this early in a mission, so he leaned back to wait some more. Surely some of them would get bored and leave.

It took another half hour of waiting in the dark before the extra feet clip-clopped away. He opened the door a crack and listened. No voices. The guard must be alone.

Creeping out of the dark, Solo slithered through the door on his stomach and let his eyes adjust to the light inside the barn. There was his adversary, squatting by the wall, halfway down.

Since shooting from ambush wasn't his style, he stood up, yelled, "Hey, buddy, still waiting?" and brought up his gun. The guard went into frantic motion, stiffening himself and raising his rifle at the same time. The rifle never had a chance to crack the silence. Solo's U.N.C.L.E. Special whispered under the silencer and the man toppled onto a bale of hay. Solo fled, pausing only long enough to be sure the way was clear. He ran down the hill for Gloryanna's car.