Embarrassment and the effects of the sudden awakening made her feel anything but sleepy. She hesitated a moment at the bedroom door, then continued down the hallway toward the kitchen. Something to eat would settle her nerves, she thought as she pushed open the kitchen door. A glass of milk, perhaps, and a piece of cold chicken would make a good snack.
As she reached for the light switch, something that felt like a steel band clamped itself around her waist and an enormous hand covered her mouth and most of her face. A voice came from the semi-darkness in front of her.
"Now then, Miss Griffin, we don't want to be unmannerly about this, but on the other hand we can't allow you to scream for help or turn on any more lights. There are at least two U.N.C.L.E. agents with fairly sharp ears and eyes just outside. We have gun, of course—one pointed directly at you, by the way—but we don't want to cause any more disturbance than necessary. So if you will promise to behave quietly, we can avoid such unpleasantnesses as tying and gagging you. If you agree, nod your head."
By the time the voice stopped, Kerry had had time to collect her wits and consider the situation. This was what Illya and Napoleon wanted, she thought. Besides, if she screamed, the agents would have to pretend to come to her aid, and with Thrush—and these must be Thrushes!—playing for keeps, someone could get killed. She nodded her head.
"She nodded," a voice rumbled form a foot above and behind her head.
"All right, Andy; let her go," the first voice said, and the vice-like grip was gone as quickly as it had come.
"Now isn't that much better, Miss Griffin?" the voice continued. "We don't want to inconvenience you any more than necessary, so I think we can spare a few moments for you to pack some things. We're taking you to see your uncle and you may be there for some time, so let's all go back to your bedroom where you can choose what you'll need."
As the voice stopped speaking, the door to the hallway was pushed open before her, and a man who was built along the general lines of a Percheron was outlined against the hallway light as he moved through the door. Kerry obediently followed him through the hallway and into her bedroom. A second later, the owner of the first voice entered and flipped on the light switch. She was startled to notice that he was just the opposite of the one he had called Andy—small, conservatively dressed, with a rigid crew cut. Very inoffensive looking except for the gun he still held trained on her.
Under the watchful eyes of the two men, she hastily stuffed some clothes and other necessities into a small suitcase. During this time she learned that the smaller man was Arpad McNulty and that they were indeed Thrushes. When she had finished, Andy was sent to check the back door.
"The guy's back on duty," he reported. "All ready to keep us from comin' in, but"—he gave a rumbling chuckle—"he ain't expectin' nobody to bust out."
"All right, Andy. You take him out, quietly. Miss Griffin and I will follow." With stealth incredible in such a large man, Andy eased open the door and slipped out into the night.
A moment later, McNulty took Kerry's arm and urged her to follow. As they stepped off the porch onto the walk, she noticed the form of the back door guard sprawled under the shrubbery beside the garage. McNulty hurried her through the back gate and along the alley to the north. At the street, a car was waiting, Andy already at the wheel. He was rumbling to himself as the two piled into the back seat. "That old boy's really gonna have a head when he wakes up." He chuckled. "Y'know how I got him, Arpad? Y'see, he—"
"It was a very good job, Andy," McNulty said, "and you can tell me about it tomorrow. Right now, get us out of here."
Kerry felt a vast relief. The plan had worked, at the cost of nothing more serious than a bruised head. The shock she had received on seeing the body was replaced by a feeling of well-being and adventure. It was an effort to remind herself that she was still a captive, even though she had only the two agents' word about how easily she could be freed. So far, Thrush had been terribly efficient.
McNulty was in an expansive mood. As the car started off at a moderate pace, he smiled at Kerry. "The secret of a successful operation is to remain inconspicuous," he said smugly, oblivious to her sidelong glance at Andy's garishly clothed hulk. "Thus we move very carefully with the traffic flow. We don't drive below the speed limit because we don't want to be picked up for loitering, but—"
"How did you get into my apartment?" Kerry asked. "It was locked and there were two U.N.C.L.E. agents guarding it."
McNulty favored her with a superior smile, "Another secret of the successful agent: be alert and watch for your opportunity. Or, as one of our rival organizations puts it, 'Be prepared.' The guard at the back was ready and alert except for a few brief moments when your two friends left. We simply sneaked in then."
"But the door—"
"Locks," McNulty stated, "are no barrier to Thrush."
"I see. Could you tell me why you chose to kidnap me? I know nothing that could be of any use to you, especially if you already have Uncle Willard."
McNulty looked offended. "Kidnapping, Miss Griffin? I prefer to think of it as arranging a reunion between two devoted relatives who have been separated by unfortunate circumstances. We must, of course preserve Thrush security; you, who have worked on classified government documents, must appreciate our position."
"Did my uncle request this reunion, then?"
"Not in so many words, perhaps, but we felt sure that having his favorite niece with him would spur him to even greater efforts on our behalf. We are not a heartless organization, Miss Griffin, as you can see. No expense is too great for Thrush if it contributes to the well-being
"I see," Kerry repeated noncommittally, and fell silent. McNulty settled back and hummed quietly to himself as they drove.
Kerry kept a careful check on their progress. Prisoners did this in all the spy movies she had seen, in order to locate the secret hideout they were being taken to. But in most of the movies, the prisoners had been blindfolded, she realized, uneasily. McNulty didn't seem to be the careless type, so she could only assume that he was confident that any knowledge she gained would do her no good. But, then, he wasn't reckoning with the tiny transmitter beeping away in her stomach. As the car drove on, she tried not to let her growing feeling of anticipation and excitement show.
Forty-five minutes later, the car pulled up in front of a medium-sized apartment building, a few miles south of Milwaukee. A thrill ran through Kerry as she realized that this was probably the secret Thrush Headquarters that Brattner had been unable to locate. Right here in Cudahy, She thought wonderingly.
McNulty ushered her out of the car and closed the door behind her. The car moved smoothly off to the building parking lot. Kerry felt vaguely disappointed that a section of lawn hadn't risen up to reveal a secret entrance for the car and themselves. Instead, they walked prosaically up the front steps and through the front door. Inside, McNulty led her down a long hallway and stopped in front of an apartment door and rang the bell. A beefy man in an ill-fitting suit answered the door. Another inconspicuous secret agent, Kerry thought as the man gestured them inside.
The apartment was furnished simply but was tastefully decorated. A tall, lawn man with graying hair rose from a couch as they entered. Attired in a smoking jacket and slippers, his trim appearance and erect bearing made Kerry think of a retired army officer. He bowed slightly. "Miss Griffin, I presume? I am Ivan Forbes. I assume you have become acquainted with our Mr. McNulty." He didn't bother to introduce the beefy man.