Gloryanna was frank. "I don't think I would."
"But you have already started by poking about the estate, by being with Solo when he came prowling. You've chosen your side. You must bear up."
Barber interrupted, still impatient. "Saturn, I came out here only because you said it wouldn't take much time. Dundee is due in two hours. Now hurry up or I'll put bullets in both of them."
"Patience, Barber. Things are well in hand. I have the perfect way to place Miss Piper here with the scare crow. Charles! Bring the equipment. Miss - start undressing.
Gloryanna recoiled and backed into Illya, swaying his post out of balance and bringing a groan from him.
"Well, hurry up!" Saturn said. "Have you ever seen a crow in red slacks?"
Gloryanna gasped. "A crow?"
Illya watched Charles unload two containers from the second station wagon. One was warm, liquid tar; the other was a great box of chicken feathers that spewed out as be walked, making a snowfall behind him.
"Oh, come on, Saturn," Illya protested. "You're not that crazy."
"You shut up! This is entirely my affair. You're a dead man." He moved in on Gloryanna. "Are you going to undress, or must I rip your clothes off?"
Gloryanna was trembling from head to foot, one hand clutching at her shirt, the other reaching for Illya. "Illya! Please - tell me what to do."
Illya closed his eyes. He couldn't help her. "Do as he says, Gloryanna. And be slow about it," he added in a whisper. He damned his profession where the best hope often meant stalling for time. Time for a girl to suffer, most probably.
Gloryanna faced Saturn bravely. "I'll do it, myself." Her fingers moved up to her shirt buttons. "But I'll keep on my underclothes. You'll have to kill me to get those off."
She cried and shivered and unbuttoned her shirt, and Illya forgot the heat and glare as he watched her. He only hoped that Napoleon would do well for Saturn when the tall, skinny man's turn came at dramatics like this.
Chapter 13
"Kiss the Maiden All Forlorn"
SOLO WAS PANTING in the heat, running from one stand of trees to another, trying to keep to cover. It was nearly impossible in these dead fields. The balloon had been no help. Red and black and gold, it was alone. Red, black, and gold. Ink bottles flashed in front of his mind. And gold paper for printing. Saturn was running more of a Chinese circus than a road show with his choice of colors.
He was nearly to the back of the estate. There would be one field left, and if he found no Illya there, where could he search next? He made the final dash to a thin row of trees and caught his breath.
The brown field before him was surrounded on three sides by woods, the deeper stand lying at the back. In the middle of it were two station wagons, six men, and Gloryanna Piper, standing by a scarecrow. Gloryanna was unbuttoning her blouse. The scarecrow's head moved, lolling and falling forward. Solo stifled his groan of recognition and immediately edged down the length of trees.
The odds were six against one, but he had to take them. He saw the feathers strewn on the ground, smelled the heavy odor of tar, and realized what was going on. "She's very special, you know," Piper had said about his daughter. That, she was. And she wasn't going to be covered with that slime!
Solo thought frantically for a way to help. He had to protect himself, because if he fell they would be lost. All he had was his pistol. They were all in range and he was a dead shot, but against six men? Five of them with rifles?
There were more men about somewhere. He had counted at least another eight in his dash to this field. Noise would bring them down on him, too. He shrugged. Gloryanna had most of the buttons undone and he had to hurry.
He scrambled on until he was even with the scene but still inside the narrow band of woods. He changed clips in his gun, substituting tranquilizing darts for lead, wanting their silence. He was as ready as he'd ever be.
Gloryanna had her shirt off entirely and appeared terribly vulnerable standing in the sun in her white cotton bra and red slacks. Solo slapped at his pocket, felt the shape of what he wanted, and pulled out three capsule-size explosives. He had to scatter the men so they couldn't turn on him in a body. He reared up and heaved one bomb with all his might for the front of the field. Before it hit the ground, he heaved another to the rear. The two bombs burst one right after the other, shooting up flame that ate the withered grass and created a frightening sight of fire and sparks.
Two men broke from the group to dash for the first fire area and one man ran to the rear. Grass fire was something they couldn't let pass. With the entire farm withered, it would flame its way to the barn and summon the fire department. So they ran to put it out while Saturn bobbed about like a crazy man on stilts.
Solo went to one knee, took careful aim, and dropped the rear man in his tracks. He swung the pistol around and felled one of the forward men in mid-stride. They plopped without a scream because of the darts and the sight panicked the skinny actor more than whizzing bullets would have. He was a frenzy of motion, tugging at the men beside him and running madly for the first station wagon. The men trailed him, craning about for something to shoot, confused by the farflung configuration of the attack.
Solo fired into the group and toppled another man, sending the others on faster. "Leave the wagon!" Solo screamed under his breath, squeezing the gun hard in hope. But they took both wagons and bounced among the stones and boulders to get away. The lone man left on his feet gave up his fire-fighting. He leaped over the burning circle and raced headlong for the next field.
With the wagons stirring dust in his face, Solo broke cover and sprinted to Illya. He grabbed up Gloryanna's shirt on the way by and thrust it at her. Illya smiled with the weakest smile Solo bad ever seen even from the sober, Slavic face.
Solo maneuvered Illya gently, freeing him and liftinf him bodily from the post. He took off the soaked jacket, then knelt and started rubbing circulation back into Illya's numb legs. Gloryanna helped and all the while Illya mumbled information.
"Dundee is coming, Napoleon. They're shipping something out tonight. We don't have time to waste."
"We have time for this. Besides, your gleanings and mine put together tell us a lot. I checked the mansion and the other barns as I passed by and no one has been near them to even disturb the cobwebs. All of the activity has been at that one old barn. And I found the jackpot there - the lab. Now you say they're making a shipment. It all means they produced the chemical right here, so our search for the lab is ended. Half done, Illya. We only need to get our sample and we can go home."
Illya moved his legs weakly and licked his cracked lips. He struggled, rising up on shaky legs that would barely hold him. "The smoke, Napoleon. It will draw them like flies."
"There are plenty to be drawn, too. Look, Illya, can you make it under your own power? Any chance?"
Illya staggered three steps, made his back a painful ramrod and stumbled three more. "Just barely," he admitted, game to try.
"Then you go that way." Solo pointed to the side of the field. "That's toward Gloryanna's farm. Keep inside the trees. I'll lead them off to the rear. I'll have a good chance once I make the woods."