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.
---
The Piper farm was quiet when Solo careened into the driveway, but Mr. Piper wasn't long in coming out. He was a big blond man with the same candid eyes Gloryanna had except that they squinted with worry. He knew nothing that helped Solo. Gloryanna hadn't come home from her breakfast date in town, he had seen no trace of a blond man named Kuryakin, and he wished someone would tell him what was going on. For a sendoff, after he repossessed his car, he made oblique threats against Solo.
"Now that I see you, young man," Piper said, "I would just as soon my daughter stopped making dates with you. You're not the kind I have planned for her. She's very special, you know"
Solo's assurances that he did know got him nowhere. Piper kicked him off the property and he went docilely. He'd been thrown out by fathers before.
Solo walked a wary quarter of a mile on the road, then stepped off into the sumac, hid himself, and tried to raise Illya on the transceiver. It came up blank. Concern lightened in him. Illya must be in trouble some where. And where was Gloryanna? There was nothing to do but return to the Thrush establishment and take his course from the balloon by the walnut grove. He'd find Illya one way or another.
---
Illya hung limply on his scarecrow post, telling himself that his tongue was not swelling, be was just miserably thirsty. Sweat poured into his eyes, his hair was soggy with it, and every bone in his body ached. He was incredibly alone. One bird had peeped at him on its way by, but that was all. He estimated that he had hung here for two and a half hours. He had a lot more time to go.
The sound of cars approaching lifted his head. It brought pain to his neck and dizziness spots before his eyes. Two cars came, both station wagons. Saturn, Charles, Barber, and three other men got out, dragging Gloryanna with them. Her blond hair was mussed and tangled, her face tear-streaked, but they had to pull her along. She was too stubborn to submit without a fight.
Illya only moaned, "Oh, no!" at the sight of her. He hated to drag innocents into these things.
When Gloryanna spotted him she threw off her captors and ran forward. "Illya! I didn't recognize - Illya! What have they been doing to you?" She whirled around, confronting Saturn. "You can't do a thing like this! People can't do things like this!"
Illya murmured through his thick tongue, "People can and do, Gloryanna. Don't make him any more enraged than he is. Be careful. He's no fool. He just pretends to be."
She patted his leg comfortingly, unaware that she brought him pain. He had thought his legs were entirely numb, but she proved him wrong.
"I was waiting by the balloon for you," she said, "and they grabbed me. Why?"
Saturn smiled. "Now, Miss Piper, we'll do for you what we did for him. We'll let you play a part in this drama. How would you like that?