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Napoleon gave way, step by step. Finally his back was to the wall, and Arnold smiled as he spun the wand toward the U.N.C.L.E. agent’s face.
Using the wall as a brace, Napoleon kicked out, catching Arnold low. The little Thrush staggered back, but regained his offensive position instantly. Napoleon’s hand darted down to the calf of his wetsuit and came up with a slender blade. Arnold brought the wand up, and Napoleon flipped the little knife across at him.
Arnold screamed and collapsed, the knife quivering in his knee, splitting the cap.
“So help me, I’m going to spend a week in bed when this is all over,” Napoleon muttered as he slumped down next to the two unconscious Thrushes.
Chapter 15
“I do believe you’re upset with me/7
BULLHORN at the ready, Matt waited for Napoleon’s signal. The watch on his wrist read fifteen to, and all of the lights on the pier flickered and went out. The U.N.C.L.E. assault squad went into flawless action. Two portable spot lights flashed on, bathing the open pier with light from two angles. Four armored vehicles pulled out onto the beach and arranged themselves in skirmish formation facing the fun house. Their headlights finished the lighting and not a shadow remained unplumbed.
“All right, we know you’re in there,” Matt’s voice echoed through the bullhorn. “Let’s make this as easy as possible on all of us.”
There was no response from the Space House, no sign of life, no sound.
“Avery Porpoise, send your men out with their hands raised,” Matt called out, and then repeated. There still was no response. The U.N.C.L.E. agents pulled forward, expecting to be ordered to invade.
Matt lowered the bullhorn and signaled a squad leader forward. The two agents were picking out objectives for the attacking squad when the first sign of life appeared. Three figures in black, their hands raised, and all laughing, danced out of the entrance to the Space House.
“We surrender,” their leader shouted, as she broke into a dance. Mai and the boys had made it through the maze. Noting Mai’s new step, one foot free to dance wildly, the other dragging behind, the two boys fell in.
“Allee allee in free! We’re doing the ‘Bird’, the ‘Jailbird,”’ Andy shouted as he picked up an imaginary ball and chain on his leg and started dribbling the ball.
The U.N.C.L.E. agents dropped their jaws, and lowered their guns in disbelief. They had all tangled with Thrush before, but never with Thrushes quite like these. “You three kids get down and out of the way,” Matt ordered over the loud hailer. “You on the inside, come out with your hands raised.”
The flower children continued to dance, Mai putting all the curves of her healthy young body into her newly invented “Jailbird.” None of the U.N.C.L.E. agents noticed, until three Thrushes grabbed the children, that three more figures had come out of the maze.
“All right,” the self-styled leader of the three thugs commanded, “open up and let us through, or well kill the-whooof!”
It’s doubtful that “whoof” was really the intended target of the threat, but Mal’s elbow shooting into the thug’s diaphragm made any other pronouncement impossible. His lungs emptied, and instant unconsciousness followed. Andy stomped the instep of the Thrush holding him and gained release. He then double-teamed the thug holding Charlie. The two boys soon had that situation in hand; one of them wrapped himself around the thug’s legs, the other sat on his chest and arms and smashed his head into the ground.
Mai, in the meantime, wasn’t letting the third thug go u
Then, as if they had choreographed it, the three flower children fell back into the comic steps of the “Jailbird.”
Thrush bullets spat from the loading door, and Matt and the squad leader reacted instantly. Matt leaped, picked up Mai in one arm, snagged Charlie with his free hand and yanked the two to relative safety. Andy was plucked into the air and carried to the skirmish line by the second agent. U.N.C.L.E. returned fire with a vengeance, and two Thrushes tumbled out of cover. The firing let up and Matt scrambled to his feet, discovering he still had an armful of Mai.
“Are you a spy, too?” she cooed, kissing him on the forehead. “I just love spies.” Matt reluctantly disentangled and picked up the abandoned loud hailer.
“Come on out with your hands raised. You haven’t got a chance. We have the exits covered, and were ready to shoot if we have to, so let’s make it easy. He repeated this several times and then ordered his men into the attack.
Bullets flew, and four of the Thrushes tried to make a way over the side of the pier. They fell into the waiting firenets of U.N.C.L.E. and were wrapped up and put away with no trouble at all.
Inside the darkened pool room, Illya stopped to orient himself. The muggy heat of the room gave all surfaces a strange unshadowed appearance. Next to the pool* a darker blob stood out as the only cool thing in the room. The blob moved, and Illya raised his U.N.C.L.E. Special to cover Avery Porpoise.
“Stand very still, Mr. Porpoise,” the Russian said, moving constantly to keep the fat man from pinpointing the source of his voice. “We have your little place surrounded, and I have a pistol pointed at your fat little tummy.”
“My, Mr. Kuryakin,” Porpoise answered in a conversational tone, “you U.N.C.L.E. people are quite talented. I presume Mr. Solo is behind all this. I knew once he had effected his escape that I would have to leave my little retreat, but I must admit I doubted he could work up any sort of a
“You had better step back from the pool’s edge, Mr. Porpoise. You’re right, I can see in the dark, and as I’ve mentioned, I’m aiming a pistol right at you. I’m not at all sure just what kind of ammunition I was provided with; it may only be mercy bullets, or it may be the real tiling. If you do what I say, neither of us will be forced to find out.”
He had brought himself to within a dozen feet of the fat villain. The deceptive shadowy quality of the cool rubber
suit kept him from really seeing what Porpoise was about.
“Oh dear,” Porpoise continued as he edged closer to the pool. “I do believe you’re upset with me over that little conversation we had earlier. Really, Mr. Kuryakin, there was no offense offered there. It’s just that I was in something of a hurry, and you U.N.C.L.E. people, among your other qualities, are noted for your lack of cooperation when being put to the question.”
“It wasn’t a matter of faith,” Illya corrected. “And I don’t hold it against you personally; it’s just that despite having broken your crossword code, it turns out we will need you to add the corroborative evidence against the five thousand or so people you have buying and selling Breelen’s common.” He was within three steps of Porpoise now.
“You lied to me about the crossword.” Porpoise sounded crestfallen. “You really do seem to have the upper hand. You can see in the dark, you have a gun, and you’ve broken my code. I must admit that compared to all this I can do very little. But there is one thing I can do.
“What is that?” Illya asked as he placed one hand on the fat man’s shoulder.
“This,” Porpoise answered as he twisted from Illya’s grip and plunged into the pool.
The U.N.C.L.E. agent swung his pistol to follow the fat form. What does he think he’s doing? He can’t stay down forever, even with a re-breather9 and even if he could we could always drain the pool.