Pulp Fiction | The Invisibility Affair by Thomas Stratton Read Online Free PDF

auburn, fell loosely almost to her shoulders. Green eyes studied the U.N.C.L.E. agents appraisingly. Napoleon was uncomfortably aware of his disheveled clothing, smudged face and margarine coating.
    "How do you do, Miss Griffin?" he said, and turned to Brattner. "I understand there are fresh clothes for us here."
    "Of course," the girl broke in. "The garments procured for your utilization have been given temporary storage space in the sleep module reserved for non-residents. Cleansing facilities are also available in an immediately adjacent area." She motioned toward a door halfway down the hall.
    Napoleon blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
    Illya stated down the hall, gesturing for Napoleon to follow. "She said the clothes are in the guest bedroom and there's a bath next to it. Come on." Napoleon continued to watch Kerry until she nodded agreement to Illya's translation, then followed Illya to the sleep module.
    They had just started to remove their greasy clothing when Brattner stepped into the room. "Didn't you say there were two Thrush agents in the trunk of your car?" he asked.
    "Yes," answered Napoleon.
    "Well, they're not there now. Smith checked the trunk before driving the car down to headquarters, and there was nobody in it."
    Napoleon and Illya looked at one another. "The anesthetic must have worn off early," Napoleon said. "Are you sure you gave them both a full charge?"
    Illya opened his briefcase, picked up the offending hypospray, and looked at it, frowning. "This isn't a standard unit," he remarked after a moment's inspection. "According to the label, it's loaded with something called M-27. Do you know anything about the powers of M-27, Napoleon?"
    Solo shook his head. "I've never heard of it before. Evidently its powers don't include sustained unconsciousness, however. It must be something Chicago supplied; I don't think Thrush tampered with our briefcase. I'll ask Mr. Waverly when I make the next report."
    Illya shrugged. "There doesn't seem to be much we can do about the escape now. You might arrange to get the car back to the rental agency; considering what it's been through, you'd better assign your most diplomatic agent to the job."
    "And have someone contact Charlie Reed," Napoleon added. "He's probably wondering what became of his margarine. Tell him it was destroyed in action, and we'll arrange for the Chicago branch to get him some more."
    Brattner nodded and left the agents to their bath.
    Returning to the living room several minutes later, Napoleon felt more assured in a clean white shirt and fresh suit. "Now we can get down to business, Miss Griffin," he said. "We understand that you were a frequent visitor at the home of Dr. Morthley outside Mukwonago a few weeks ago."
    "Not precisely a visitor, Mr. Solo," she replied. "I was working for him."
    "Working?" Napoleon sat down on a couch facing her.
    "Yes. I'm a technical writer, and..." She paused, her face slightly flushed. "I must apologize for before. It's only that I'm so used to writing technical literature for government consumption. When I get flustered—and you people are enough to fluster anyone—I'm afraid I tend to lapse into rather unfortunate forms of phraseology and terminology." She broke off again and smiled slightly. "Like that."
    "That's quite all right," Napoleon reassured her, relieved to discover that she occasionally spoke English. "By the way, may I call you Kerry?"
    "Please do," she replied. "I've always favored informal nomenclature whenever its use is practicable."
    "You started to say you worked for Dr. Morthley?" Illya asked patiently.
    She looked up at him. "Yes. He needed someone to help him prepare a proposal to submit to the government. He thought he had a revolutionary discovery, but to properly develop the potential he need financial assistance."
    "What kind of invention? And why do you say he thought he had a discovery?"
    "Because its practicability was obviously negated by ..." She laughed suddenly and shook her head.