MFU Whitman - The Affair of the Gentle Saboteur Read Online Free PDF Page B

Scotia. Then by private helicopter to an estate here on Long Island. Burrows is an expert pilot. So is Leslie Tudor."
    "How do you know?"
    "Burrows told me."
    "Where is this estate on Long Island?"
    "I don't know. I came in by commercial plane Tuesday morning. I brought in nothing. They brought in all my equipment. On Monday Burrows took the suite in my name at the Waldorf. That was my base of operation. Of course, I'd been thoroughly briefed in England. By Burrows. Monday, when he took the suite, he brought in two suitcases with all the equipment I needed—also, fifty thousand dollars in American money."
    McNabb said, "Yes, we have most of that."
    "Mission accomplished, I would return the way I had come. If Burrows—or Tudor––wanted any changes, they knew where to reach me. That's it, Mr. Waverly—so help me."
    Solo knew—as he was certain Waverly knew—that the man was telling the truth. It matched their own knowledge; his statements aligned with the meager but incontrovertible facts they themselves had deduced. Waverly sighed. "Well, now, Mr. Stanley..."
    The loudspeaker came alive.
    "Mr. Waverly! Television Section! Mitchell here! Emergency! Please come up at once, sir!"
    Waverly pressed a button of the console board. "Right away, Mr. Mitchell."
    "Is Mr. Solo in your office, sir?"
    "Yes."
    "Mr. Solo, too, please."
    "Yes."
    Waverly punched the disconnect button, stood up, and waved to the armed guards. "Take Mr. Stanley back to Detention. Thank you."
     
    As soon as he entered the Television Room, Solo heard the beep of Illya's code signal and the additional signal of their code for SOS—emergency! The large room was crowded with electronic equipment. The technicians stood by. Waverly pointed at Frank Mitchell.
    "Extrapolate!"
    Mitchell moved quickly to a huge scanning board. He pulled a lever and the board lit up, showing maps slowly revolving behind cross hairs. He put a headset over his ears and plugged the line into an outlet. The fingers of both hands took the control knobs, and he nodded toward Waverly.
    "You, Mr. Solo!" Waverly said.
    Solo positioned himself in front of the eye of a camera in another wall. He flicked a switch.
    "Napoleon Solo. Go ahead, Illya. Over."
    He pushed down on the switch.
    A small screen showed Illya's face. He was using the micro-TV, transistorized receiver and sender, tiny, cigarette-package-sized, standard equipment for special agents of UNCLE. The beam was on his face for identification. He would have moved the instrument to give them some idea of where he was. He did not. Solo understood. Illya could not. There was, in all probability, a gun leveled at him.
    Mitchell turned the control knobs. The maps behind the cross hairs revolved more slowly.
    Illya spoke tensely.
    "I have been taken by agents of THRUSH. Also taken is Steven Winfield, son of Sir William Winfield, British Ambassador to the UN. We are being held as hostages for the return of Albert Stanley." Illya smiled wryly. "Two for one. Tell Mr. Waverly to reassure Sir William and warn him that there be no outcry. You, Napoleon, will be contacted by phone at your apartment some time after nine o'clock tomorrow morning. No tricks. Take care." Illya smiled again, and his picture disappeared from the screen.
    Solo pushed up the switch.
    "Are there any other instructions? Over."
    He pushed down the switch.
    There was no sound. The screen was black.
    He tried again. Nothing.
    Grimly Waverly said, "All right. Kill it." Turning to Mitchell, he queried, "What've we got?"
    Mitchell removed his headset.
    "Not enough time to pinpoint anything, but I did get the general location."
    "Where?" Waverly asked.
    "He's somewhere out on Long Island."
     
     

5. "No Way Out"
     
     
    THEY WERE NOT uncomfortable, although they had no idea where they were or when it was day or night. It was a large, windowless room fitted with a prison-type steel door. They could hear no sounds from outside. Illya believed it to be a basement room because of